Page 1

Pins of light in the darkness soon swirled, leaving expanding trails which blended into one another in shades of blue to form the morning sky high above. Soft wind caressed the leaves and high grass around her as she awoke to a new day. Hopefully, this new home would also equate to a new start, she thought.

Echoing peacefully in the nearby forest, birdsong brought a smile and she sighed, then stretched her tired muscles. All these years of running had toned her body into not only an agile frame, but also a weapon that she had to use more than once. Survival had never been easy, but she had to push on. Discovery of her true identity would spell certain doom if these inhabitants were anything like the previous bunch. Superstitious theories and trust in oracles normally meant that one more home had to be abandoned. Friends left behind. Loves lost.

Her mind drifted outward and discovered the small herd grazing quietly to her left. Luckily no one else was nearby. She slowly sat up, her long black hair now matted with strands of grass and turned to notice the large male's strong neck raise an impressively horned head and stare at her. His large, dark eyes remained locked with her blue for a long moment, then continued eating. She had always loved animals, smiling at the many young helped enter their worlds.
Confident she wouldn't startle them by standing, she pushed herself up and walked towards the treeline away from them; southwest, she mused.
As she moved, tanned hands brushed off the grass from her heavy, brown leather jacket and pants. Still wet from the morning dew, she realized she needed to find food and water soon and moved into the shadow of the large stand of trees.

Golden beams of sunlight pierced the canopy whose deep greens and browns reminded her of so many other places she had visited over her lifetime. Faces, towns, cities and moments flashed through her mind in a dizzying cinematic display. Some made her smile, others didn't.
It wasn't long before sloping ground covered in brown leaves and needles led her to a quietly flowing river. It's dark flow still masked from the morning sun and she crouched at it's bank and dipped her hand into it's coolness. After a few quick sips, she heard movement to the distant left and retreated near a large tree. Masked behind the large trunk, she soon noticed a duo of males emerge. Their dishevelled brown hair, scraggly beards and tanned faces told of youth as did the bared chests. Both seemed healthy as they stepped out into full view and crouched to refill their waterskins. Simply made bows across their backs told of some skill in weapon making as well as a hunter type race. Arrows filled a quiver made of hide whose brown fur matched their boots in color. Pants were made of woven wool and dyed in designs of blue on tan.

She listened as they spoke and soon was able to mouth the words, learning the language as was one of her many talents until she could understand them.

"...said that you were ready to bed your first wife," the taller one stated.

A smile broadened on his companion's face as he stood and tied his waterskin closed. "Alida has already been chosen by the Wise. Father told me so last night."

"Good choice," the friend agreed and rose as he tied his own container onto a simple, rope belt. "You'll be expected to father many sons, you know that?'

"For all of your daughters, no doubt," the playful chiding continued as they shoved one another, then continued back the way they had come. She had obviously stumbled onto a community not too far away and had to investigate. Her style of dress was going to be an issue, but hopefully not one she couldn't talk her way out of. It wasn't the first time she stood out, unfortunately.

Blue eyes scanned the distant bank in both directions to find no other travelers, so she stood and looked for a place to ford the river. It didn't take long for her to realize that she may have to do this the old fashioned way as she looked up into the thick canopy. Reaching up to the nearest branch, she climbed up and soon made her way across to a neighboring tree that bridged both sides. Nimbly moving across, she soon found herself on the opposite bank and moved to discover where the pair had gone.

Soon, the sounds of barking and playing children reached her ears in time with the smell of cook fires mixed with other distinguishing marks of society. Apparently not too advanced, she realized as the forest soon opened to reveal a large cluster of flat topped buildings surrounded by small, cultivated areas. Each was fenced in by woven branches suspended by a uniform ring of posts.
Nearly everyone she noticed, young and old, had dark hair and were tanned. Blue artwork in their clothing also seemed to be the norm and she studied them for some pattern. The swirling seemed to centralize all their designs and she wondered if it eluded to the cycle of life itself.

Only one way to find out how they greeted strangers, she realized and stood as a middle aged man worked outside the front door to his home, which jutted out from the round, stone walled home. Walking to her left, she soon found a narrow pathway between the neighbor's farms and continued towards what appeared to be a large, central gathering area.
Three boys, chasing one another around a high walled, wooden cart stopped in their tracks upon seeing her. Sweat and dirt caked their bodies as they panted, mouths agape.

"Hello," she nodded and smiled, then noticed the farmer to her right look up, then slowly stand. She glanced to him as well. "Good morning."

His brow furrowed slightly and he stepped towards her, then stopped as he leaned forward a bit, shadowing the low fence. "Are you of Pinsley," he queried quietly.

Now she was confused. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Your blue eyes. Only the Gifted Ones have blue eyes."

"I see." Gifted Ones? Interesting. "I was just traveling through the area and noticed your town. I was hoping to gain something to eat, if possible. I can trade or work for it, if need be." She chose her words carefully, figuring their economy wasn't one built on currency.

His hand raised immediately, head turned downward and to the right slightly. "No. I'll not debase you that way. Anything asked is given," he replied emphatically. That could be a two-edged sword, she quickly realized. He motioned for her to follow and she noticed a swing type gate hinged by leather strapping, which she pushed aside, then walked in and returned it to it's former place. Inside the shadow of his home, the main room fell below the ground, joined by a stair that descended along the outer wall. Storage sinks capped by circular, wooden lids lined the long, smoothly carved shelf directly below her as she followed the man. Furs circled a raised table of stone topped by a myriad of wooden utensils, and lit by a suspended bowls filled with oil around the room. Two doorways at the back wall led into private bedrooms and she noticed another opening to the right at the base of the stairs that led into a storeroom full of bags of vegetables.

"Woman, feed this guest," he called and she turned to notice a female emerge from the farthest doorway, dressed in a tan, woolen dress and simple shoes. Slightly overweight, years of childbearing and toil had taken it's toll on the woman who was probably not five to six years older than herself.

"I thank you for your hospitality." Both glanced to her quietly and she grinned. Learning the language was always easy. Learning the culture was normally by trial and error.

"You even speak like a Gifted One," he stated as his wife began cooking in the hearth which commanded the remaining wall.

"Perhaps you could tell me a bit more about them?" She watched him move towards the far side of the furs, then sit down at the table, then motion for her to claim a spot as well, which she did. Sizzling soon erupted from the large, metal pan as his dark haired companion tossed flat pieces of hand tossed bread onto it.

"They are borne of angels from the heavens. Strong as a team of oxen, beautiful as the flowers on the plains. They live in large cities of white and gold and have imprisoned the Deathbringer in the depths of the sea," his brown eyes narrowed with intensity and pride as he spoke. "The Wise One could tell you more than me, though. He's seen them." As she pondered his story, he studied her for a long moment, then cleared his throat. "Where do you come from, if not from there?"

That was a difficult question to answer.

Page 2

"I've lived in the forests far from here all my life," she lied. The truth would gain way too much attention. "My parents were taken from me when I was young, as were my brothers." That part was true at least and the memory that she had spent so much time suppressing returned with a vengeance as blue eyes turned away and studied his wife as she cooked their meal.

"The Giver takes as he wills," her host agreed sympathetically. "You can sleep here if you wish," an offer that regained her full attention.

"I appreciate that."

"I am Qadir," he introduced, then motioned to his wife. "That is Nazirah. Our children are about playing right now, you'll meet them later."

She nodded and grinned. "I'm Anjelika." One of her many aliases would have to do for now. "How long has this village been here?"

"Some generations. The Wise One keeps track of those things. I'm sure he'll wish to speak with you soon. Little escapes him and I'm sure he knew of you being here some time ago."

She nodded with interest. "Does he use magic?"

Qadir grinned. "Such things are forbidden here. He has dreams that the Giver tells him. That's how he knew the secrets of the heavens and became the Wise One."

"I see. Is Pinsley far from here?"

He shrugged. "Not sure. Some weeks travel I think."

"None of the Gifted Ones ever come here, I guess?"

"No. If they did, we would all be dead."

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

Grinning, her host leaned forward, hands clasped loosely together over his raised, right knee. "To even look upon them would bring their anger. We're only born to breed servants and till the land. Others take the fruit of the land to them as gifts for another season of growth and life. They are the ones that keep things right for the Giver." She was beginning to gain a fuller picture of the new world she had found and wasn't impressed so far. A story that had played out in too many fashions but, all ended up the same. In death and blood.

Once they had eaten, she returned outside as Qadir went back to his project near the front door. The midmorning sun was becoming warmer and she unbuttoned her jacket to cool down a bit as she walked quietly towards the narrow lane outside the fenceline. The technology level here gave her the advantage but, she still didn't have enough details on these larger guardians of the world yet.
Movement to her right made her turn to notice a thin, older man in solid blue coat that reached down to his ankles and covered an ornate, tan tunic and pants, both beautifully decorated in their traditional blue swirling patterns surrounded by interwoven ropes and vines. Greying brown hair and beard neatly combed framed the tanned, wrinkled face and hazel eyes as the elder spotted her and quickly approached.

"I've heard that you were here," his deeper, authoritative voice also had a kindness to it and relaxed her a bit. "I'm Oran. I've sent word that you were discovered to the Gifted Ones. I'm sure they'll be happy to know you've been found."

Anjelika's face went blank. "What do you mean?"

Her confusion passed onto the town's representative. "They've been searching for several of their young that went missing some time ago," his hands extended towards her. "I naturally assumed.... Your blue eyes..."

Nodding, she imagined how angry these individuals would be once they got word of a missing child being found, only to learn that it was an impostor. "How long ago was this?"

Oran sighed. "Nearly five years now." His hands quietly joined as the Wise One studied her. "You have the look of them. Perhaps a spell was put on you to forget."

"I'm pretty sure I remember everything I've been through since I was two or three years old, trust me."

He grinned. "Those that live in the shadows know tricks of sorcery. One of them could have given you false memories to keep you loyal. It's happened before." He backed from her and motioned into the village. "Come, I'll have you remain with me and wait for the Giver to send me the truth of this."

"Perhaps later," she replied as apprehension grew. "I was only passing through when Qadir invited me to eat with them. I'm not looking for any trouble."

His dark eyes narrowed. "I insist."

Here we go again, she thought. Sighing, she moved to the gate and pulled it open and stepped out onto the hardpacked lane, then returned the makeshift door to it's place. "I've remained here long enough." With that, she turned and sprinted from the older man back into the forest.

"They'll find you, witch! You cannot escape their eyes, no matter how far you run!"

With the sun as a reference, she moved quickly through the forest, and once finding the river, turned south and paralleled it the whole day. Seeing no other person the entire time, she hoped that his warning's were just that. Finally getting a place to rest, she stopped and quietly listened to the forest for any sign of pursuit to find none. It would take time for a smart hunter to track her, but he would find her in time. She made no effort to cover her retreat and there would be plenty of evidence of her path.
Sighing, hands went to hips as she realized how quickly this visit had gone into the dumps. No rest for the weary, she mused and soon glanced to the widened river. A bath would be a welcome end to the day's run and even help her sleep tonight. Rest had been elusive the past few 'day's' and she was desperate for a solid eight hours for once.

Once disrobing, she dipped into the current whose coolness was a shock initially, but a welcome one as she bathed and then swam for a bit beneath a blanket of stars.

Page 1 - Origin

"Boslan, I need you to handle a problem for me."

The young man stood in front of his boss' massive desk, his hands clasped behind his back.  Boslan Kendall carried himself with all the cocky arrogance typical of his 24 years.  If his boss had a problem, Boslan would see it eliminated with extreme prejudice.  That was why he was the youngest regional manager in 35 years and a rising star in the Quarqan Syndicate.  He pulled his datapad out of the coat pocket of his tailored suit and began taking notes.

"Sure thing, sir.  What do you need?"

"One of our shipments has been delayed on Ryloth.  The distributor there seems to think we're treating him unfairly.  I need you to go do some relationship management and get the shipments moving again."

"Do we need to change distributors?"

"Whatever you find to be most expedient.  I trust your judgement."

"I'll go home and pack right away, sir."

---

Boslan packed quickly, with the familiarity that came from frequent business travel.  As he placed another dress shirt into his bag, a young woman with raven-black hair entered the room and began to change out of her business attire.  She noted his packing with the same casual familiarity.

"How soon will you be back?" she asked.

"Hard to say, Marcia.  It depends on how cooperative the suppliers are on Ryloth."

"Ryloth again?  That's no short trip."  She moved up behind him, sliding her hands down his arms until she could grasp his hands and pull them back onto her hips.  "In that case, i suppose I should see you off in style.  i don't want some Twi'lek dancer to steal you away."  She smiled as her skirt dropped to the floor.

---

When the speeder arrived, Boslan tossed his bags into the back and looked up and down across the street.  He stared for a moment at a delivery truck parked down the row, then smiled and waved at it before climbing into the speeder.

"Who you wavin' to, Bos?" asked the driver.

"Nobody, just our friendly, neighborhood law enforcement guys, trying to look inconspicuous."

Inside the van, two men watched on their video screens as Boslan drove away.

"There he goes.  Looks like another business trip."

"Contact the starport and get a bead on his destination.  Then, lets go ahead and contact the judicial council so we have authorization before the first packages arrive back here."

"Roger that."

---

Page 2

The office, large, warm, and inviting, was also expensive.  Unimaginably expensive.  Poised at the top floor of Astara's most prestigious office building, the massive, imported wood desk sat before a full wall of transparisteel, commanding a view of the city unrivaled by even the government buildings next door.  Plaques and trophies adorned the walls, shelves, and tables around the room: sports, committees, legal associations, civic groups, all heralding the generosity, philanthropy, and success of this office's occupant.  But today, there were no post-trial accolades.  No celebration of victory.  No handshakes from grateful clients.  Donovan Mabos, corporate lawyer for the Quarqan Syndicate, had finally lost.

Donovan sat in his high-backed, leather chair and looked out over the city.  The speeders zipped by below him, carrying their passengers to untold destinations as the sun climbed to its autumn peak.  He took another long drink from the glass in his hand.  He hated to lose.  He hated to lose, no matter what it was.  Whether at chess, love, or law, Donovan Mabos was determined to win, and he usually did.  He sat for a moment and tried to remember the last time he lost.  It had been that Correllian he played cards with all those years ago.  The bastard had cheated, and won nearly 15,000 credits.  Unfortunately for him, his mouth had been a little too big.  It was never wise to brag about cheating a Quarqan Syndicate lawyer out of money when you're drinking ale in a bar owned by the Quarqan Syndicate.

He turned in his chair to look at the vid screen pictures of his wife and kids.  Any loss was bad, but this one was really painful.  He had known Boslan and Marcia Kendall for a long time.  He had represented them several times.  Never before had he failed them, and of all times for it to happen it had to be now.  Of course, much like the last time he lost, his opponent hadn't played fair.  The government had set them up - both of them.  They quietly had changed the rules of the game and not let anyone know until it was too late.  Now Marcia was in jail and Boslan hadn't even had time to get back to Bethany from Ryloth.

---

Boslan arrived at the prison hospital to find it very different than he had imagined.  He had envisioned a dark, squalid, dirty room, a large ward filled with rows of patients chained to the foot of each bed.  What he actually found was a facility very much like the private hospital back in town.  The only real difference had been when he entered, as the guards scanned and interviewed each visitor before lowering the force screen to admit them to the turbolift.  As he walked down the hallway to the nurse's station, he wondered if his son would be with Marcia.

"Hello, handsome."

Boslan looked to the voice to see Marcia in the room to his right, sitting in an armchair.  She had a blanket across her lap and another draped over one shoulder.  He ran into the room and bent over the chair, giving her as big of a hug as he could muster.

"Oh, careful, honey," she said.  She gently put one hand to his shoulder and straightened him some, as the blanket over he shoulder began wiggling.  "You'll smush the baby."

Boslan began to realize that his whole world had changed.  He gingerly lifted the blanket to see his son nursing contentedly at his wife's breast.  This new use for that particular part of her anatomy intrigued him, and he caught himself staring.

"How are you?" he finally managed to ask.

"Well, I would much rather be in Astara Medical, but otherwise I'm fine.  They treat me well enough.  They've been keeping me here since I arrived, but now that you're back, I understand that soon they will consider the baby old enough to be turned over to you.  Then they'll transfer me to general population."

"I'm so sorry, Marcia."

She was silent for a long time.  "I'm scared, Bos."

He knelt beside her and placed his head on her hand.  He didn't know what to say. 

Page 1 - Eve of Allschwil

Cheerful song of the lyvan lifted the darkening day as Ingamar readied dinner for his sons, Koen and Rikard. Standing near the sink, he smiled knowing that soon he would have another child to nurture on their large farm. Water cleansed the vegetables as he shaved their outer green covering then tossed them into the large, iron pot to his left.

"What are you and mom going to name her," Rikard asked, brown eyes gazing from the stove as he stirred the noodles.

"We were thinking of Agata after your grandmother," he revealed. Knowing that the festival of Allschwil would commence the following day was a good omen, he thought. Bringing in the greening of life to the Soleurz Valley, he would be able to tend to his two hundred acre farm with his sons and several agricultural droids that he had purchased several years ago. He sighed, knowing that upstairs his wife, Disa was now laboring with the midwife to bring their daughter into the world. He only hoped that they both would be alright.

"Hopefully she doesn't learn to smoke also," Koen mentioned from the dining room as he set the table.

Aged, blue eyes turned and looked through the long counter that divided the well appointed kitchen from the table. "My mother has earned her right to be a bit selfish," he turned back to his task. "Even if it is damaging," he whispered to himself, knowing that Rikard heard him anyway.

"I didn't mean.." Koen apologized, then cut off.

"It's alright. We all worry about her."

Once done, the three males carried the bowls full of vegetables, bread, and other sides from the kitchen into the well lit, rectangular room whose near end opened to the darker living room whose only life now was the melodious wind harp and strings from the smaller bordering speakers in each corner. As Ingamar sat with his sons, he closed his eyes, lifted his hands as both teenagers followed suit.

"Great giver of life, we thank you for this meal and blessing of family." They said in unison, then began eating.

"Is the family coming tomorrow," Koen asked as he cut his steak.

Ingamar nodded, "We've got to get the spare bedrooms ready. Mom hasn't had the strength to do it on her own, so."

As they ate, he heard the faint agony of labor upstairs which stopped his heart. Rising, he moved to the far doorway. "You two remain here and clean up when you're done," he directed, then passed into the foyer and up the stairs. Erdene had told him to stay from the room no matter what but, he had a hard time keeping to those directions as he heard his wife's agonizing grunts and scream. Soon, silence reigned as the music from downstairs regained center stage, echoing up through the entryway as he stood patiently waiting until hearing the cry of his newest daughter. Tears welled in excitement as he paced before the master bedroom door within the long, white walled hallway. The worst part was over, he smiled.

* * *

Rechecking the outer doors, he turned off the kitchen lights and headed into the living room as the elder midwife descended the stairs. Quickening, he met the plump, kind woman in the wood floored entry.

Turning right, he looked up as she smiled. "How are they?"

"Sleeping," she informed. Her motherly tone had helped many mothers in and around the town of Couvet over the years. "You should get some sleep yourself, Ingamar. I know you've been through a lot."

He nodded, grinning. "There's been a lot to do. Soon, we'll be taking in the crops and the cycle starts over again for a new year."

"Of course. I'll be back in a week to check on Disa and your new daughter but, they're going to need all three of you for a while longer while your wife regains her strength."

"I know," his hands went into his pants pockets. "We'll give them all the help they need, don't worry about that."

Rounded cheeks pronounced, she smiled, turned and headed for the door. "Oh, by the way, happy Allschwil."

"You as well," his right hand went to the door as she exited onto the red, flagstoned patio and descended the three steps to her awaiting speeder in the circle drive. Another day done, he could finally rest, he thought as he closed the door and locked it. Turning, he headed quietly upstairs to his room. Silently padding into the darkened room, moonlight spilled through both long windows to either end of the large bedroom until the silk lined bascinet came into view next to Disa's side of the bed. Padding to it, he smiled as his eyes finally caught sight of his daughter resting peacefully within the thickly padded, white blanket that his aunt had made the week before. She would have the best of everything, he determined.

* * *

Daylight streamed through the warming afternoon as Ingamar walked through the growing fields of butter colored vines supported upon the thin wooden fence. He was noticing a troubling discoloration lately and it had bothered him. Stopping, tanned, weatherbeaten hands gently carressed the heart-shaped leaf whose outer border flaked and fell from his touch. A deep brown, he became concerned that this was signs of an infestation that his abilities and knowledge couldn't prevent. He sighed and continued through the acres and noticed the same results.

Tiredly, boots hit the steps of the rear porch as he headed across the long patio lined with tight fitting, light tan flagstone until seeing his wife step from the double doors.

"Ready for some lunch," she asked, long, light brown hair flowing in the light breeze. Hazel-green eyes beamed from her tanned face and reminded him why he wanted to spend his life with her in the first place.

"Yeah," he nodded as he moved to her, wrapping his arm around her shrinking waist. "I love you, woman."

She chuckled. "I know," she replied then kissed him.

As they moved inside, he went to the sink and washed his hands as Disa backed to the counter beside him.

"So, why the long face?" she asked.

His happiness sobered as he scrubbed the dirt from his fingers. "We may have a problem with the crop this year," he revealed quietly. "There appears to be some sort of burn or something on the leaves."

"All of it or just certain areas?"

Blue eyes turned to her as he twisted off the water and reached for the towel laying behind her. "Most. I'll find out what I can and make sure this is a real problem or not. Thurm should be able to shed some light on it for me and we'll do what we have to," he stated as he dried his hands, noting the concern in her eyes. "Everything will be alright."

Page 2 - The Price

Within the high ceilinged hall, Ingamar walked to the community benches where most of the farmers on the northwestern side of Couvet gathered and traded stories. His father and uncles all claimed that their backsides had inadvertently molded one bench on their own. Thurm's deep, authoritative voice boomed above the rest as each expressed their concerns and Ingamar realized that he already had one answer without even asking the question: this blight wasn't just within his crops.

"...is suggesting that the snowmelt from the mountains has caused the poisoning in his own field," Willem stated, half-rising as he tried to gain everyone's attention. The wiry, middle-aged farmer had grown up within the valley along with everyone else here. "Pesticides may be able to save what's left if we hurry."

"So," Radel interrupted from the far end of the bench. "You're suggesting that we trade one poison for another? How does that help us?" He stood, accentuating his point with his stance, leaning over the maroon table covered with ashtrays and tankards. "I've never allowed science to govern the blessings from the Great One and I'm not about to start now!"

As the debate raged, Ingamar quietly neared his trusted friend and crouched near Thurm who turned to him, smiling. Heavy jowled, the elderly 'sage' of agriculture had won the trust of Ingamar's family as well as most others over the years.

"You believe this," a tanned stub of a thumb jutted from the thick, rounded fist as he motioned to the long line of farmers. "Arguing over whether science or religion should determine what's going on. I say they're one and the same. Chemicals come from the ground, right?"

Ingamar nodded, grinning. "I take it your crops are suffering too?"

Thurm shook his head. "No. Seems this problem is only on the northern side of the county. We haven't been affected at all."

Brow furrowed, Ingamar was perplexed. "I don't understand. How could that be?"

"I don't know yet but, I'm investigating it now. I'd like to take some samples of your vines and hopefully we can narrow down the cause and fix it before harvest time."

"You can have whatever you need," Ingamar rose as the overweight farmer stood with him, prompting the arguments to cease as all eyes gravitated to the duo.

"Thurm, where are you going?" Willem asked.

"You boys can argue all you want," he dismissed with the wave of his hand as they walked towards the entrance. "Let me know how it turns out."

* * *

Disa carried the basket of libations to the calmly flowing river that bordered the eastern extent of their property and knelt quietly as she listened to the water melodically flow over large rocks between the tall, green flanking grass. She had been offering these gifts to the only one that she knew could help them for the past three days. Reverently, tanned hands lowered the food offerings to the river as she silently prayed.

"Please, help us. Whatever we've done wrong, let me know and I'll set it right," she promised as emotions welled. Once her gifts had been delivered into the bosom of the gleaming flow, she straightened and silently waited.

Suddenly, the presence of someone approaching from her left lifted her eyes to see the beautiful woman. Her eyes went wide as the bluish aura around the angel stopped her heart.

"I've heard you, Disa, and I want to help but I need something more than these gifts to ensure your prosperity forever."

"Anything," she vowed without thought, trying not to gaze into the ice blue eyes but finding herself transfixed on the supernatural presence in white.

"I will raise Agata as my own. She will be forever in my care and protected from the evils of disease and sickness."

In agonizing disbelief, Disa couldn't allow her mind or heart to grasp this demand. Sinking, she felt her life ebb with each moment as she realized that she had promised to rectify this situation with 'anything' and it made her sick. Hazel-green eyes sunk as tears welled up.

"You need not fear. Your gift will garner my blessings, always."

Disa nodded reluctantly.

* * *

Driving up the long road, Ingamar had renewed hope that their efforts would save his livlihood as he stopped the speeder and turned off the ignition.

"You've been taking great care of your grandfather's house," Thurm complimented as he grunted, pushing himself from the confines of the vehicle, then slamming the door shut.

"Thank you. We've tried." He led the elder botanist to the nearest line of hanging greenish vines and stopped as Thurm examined the leaves.

"The others are doing the same thing. I've never heard of this ever happening before which is why I think the late thaw may have started this."

Ingamar studied the creased face. "You're saying it's in the river?" They had used the natural flow from the distant mountains for the past few years as some condemned the use of metal piping that bridged the aquifer deep underground.

"Possibly." He rose, labored breathing a product of a good life, so he said. "You should reopen your wells and water the field from them instead until I can find out for sure."

"Alright." He moved to the covered valves, rusted with age and weather and began breaking them loose as Thurm conducted his investigation. He only hoped that their problems would be solved that easily as he brushed off layers of rust until finally freeing the valves and twisted. In unison, the taller pipes began spraying a steady, rotating stream across the large field as he stood. Crouching underneath the nearest gout of water, he made his way towards the house as Thurm moved to the rear patio, lighting up another thick cigarra.

"Get everything you need?" Ingamar asked as he removed his leather gloves.

"Yep," he nodded as a thick plume exited his nostrils and mouth. "The test shouldn't take more than a week. I'll call you, hopefully with some good news. Amazing," he smiled as he took another long drag, "How years of experience wins out every time."

Ingamar smiled, then noticed Koen move to the rear door and open it, worried look in his eyes. "Dad, there's something wrong with mom," he motioned inside.

"What happened," he asked as both men moved to the boy.

"I don't know, I just heard her crying in your room."

Page 3 - New Acolyte

Leaving the grieving mother, the white figure moved from the river bank and back into the thin line of trees as she moved north, newborn girl in her embrace. With each step, the bluish aura melted in time with the white clothing into darker greys and black, the once beautiful face creased and sagged, blue eyes turned into pits of darkness as the Sith witch escaped with her prize. Maelona knew that one had been born to the world of Vuchelle with a deeper touch to the Force than anyone else on the backwater world within the Atravis Sector, in many generations. At least none that had survived her training that is. As she gazed down to the angelic face, deep blue eyes studied the horrific sight in quiet wonder, tiny hands clutching her blanket.

"You will be strong and help me attain my position in the sisterhood where I belong," Maelona stated as she headed towards the distant mountains, avoiding each farm and homestead along the way.

Within two days, she arrived at the narrow gorge which commanded the horseshoe shaped valley. High, forested walls rose into the air, split at it's center by a long, flowing waterfall that fell into the deep cut. Stooped with anger and power, the witch negotiated the narrow, rocky path which soon opened to a narrow plateau. Built within the rock, grey smooth walls and darkened windows overlooked the gorge and greeted it's owner in silence. Motioning with her hand, the thick, grey door ground heavily as it swung open from unseen hands as she walked into the narrow foyer, booming loudly as the door slammed home. Crying from the noise, Maelona's contemptuous gaze lowered to the weak thing in her left arm.

"Shut up! That is only the beginning. You'll learn to deal with fear and anger," her voice echoed within the darkened halls lit only by glowing lanterns which picked out tapestries and thick rugs, trophies from various battles of ascension over the years. "They'll fuel you with strength and power. You'll feel it course through your body and give it life as you command the Force, bending it to your will," a jagged grin creased the pale skin as she entered the immense library and study whose shelf-filled walls flanked thickly padded, leather furniture and richly crafted tables. Arriving at the private door, she opened it to reveal a dark staircase which rose to the second floor. "For if you don't, it will consume you."

* * *

Moving with cat-like grace, the ten year old, auburn haired girl climbed the rocky mountainside, dodging trees and boulders as she carried the buckets of water from the river to her awaiting mother. Agata had learned to keep her mouth shut and listen to everything she had been taught. Her home had never been a loving one, she actually didn't know what that meant and lessons borne from the lash and mental oppression had honed a girl whose body reflected the intense lifestyle. Jogging with the weight, she moved to the doorway and into her home as Erika scrubbed the marble floors. The teenage servant had been won in the last gathering of the Pachmari, the sisterhood that Agata was told she would be a full member of if she mastered the arts of the saber.

Once arriving at the secret doorway, hidden from view to the left of the main stairway, she touched the small panel. Opening, she then descended the dark stairs to the lab where most of her training had taken place.

"Your late," Maelona stated angrily, looking up from the long metal table topped with computers, bottles and books.

Agata dumped the water into the vat which conjoined the large machinery that she hazarded as some sort of chemical synthesizer. "Yes, ma'am," she admitted with a calm voice as she turned and stepped closer to the witch who straightened.

"Why do we loath weakness?"

"It breeds complacency and laziness which are the traits of the Jedi," she replied without hesitation.

Maelona nodded as she squared on the young girl. Drawing back, she slapped Agata who didn't flinch as the sting on her cheek announced itself. Calming herself, she turned the pain into a rejuvenating breath, as if being outside during a soothing rain.

"Have you finished with your lesson on compositions?"

"Yes, master," she stated dutifully as the sting quickly faded.

Maelona nodded, then turned back to her project. "Get out of my sight and prepare dinner."

"Yes, master." Agata didn't wait for any more instructions as she quickly left the private room which came alive with the humming from various machines and generator. She longed to learn how they worked as all she had been allowed to do thus far in that room was keep the tank full of water. The normal displeasure was no surprise as no matter how fast she tried to get things done, it was never good enough or done quickly enough. It was how her mother learned her craft, it would be the same way that Agata would perfect it also, she thought as she turned to the left and headed into the kitchen where two other, older servants slaved over the oven and sink. Setting the buckets within the closet, she turned and headed to the pot resting atop the shiny, marble countertop.

Pulled back, her long, reddish hair had grown long over the years and was another tool that her mother used to discipline the rebellious girl. Lean, her body had become strong with chores and martial training which her uncle, Soren had been showing her since she could remember, four years old, she thought. He arrived three times a week to check on her progress and begin a new lesson, sometimes with a new weapon that he had found or made in his shop. Other than he and her mother, there was no other family, most tragically dying in accidents or from disease. No one talked about those who had gone on much unless it was to use as a object lesson on stupidity.

Crashing to the floor, Agata turned to see Gala quickly move to clean up the broth and meat. Shaking her head in contempt, she knew that the middle-aged woman wouldn't survive long here if she kept that up. "Why did you do that?!"

"Forgive me," the plea as she raced to wipe up the thick, greyish puddle. A comment that intensified the girl's disdain.

"You've only got fifteen minutes to make another soup before my mother feeds you to the Orudsin," she threatened, knowing that the plants had a voracious appetite. "So, if I were you, I'd hurry."

Soon, she carried her ingredients of the meal to the table as she heard the footsteps grow louder as Maelona arrived and knew that Gala would never make it in time. She raced back into the kitchen and moved to the stove as the woman stirred, sweat pouring from her forehead. Shoving her aside, Agata tested the soup and noted the meat was cooked enough. Turning off the dial, she scooped a portion into the bowl and raced it back out to the dining room as her mother sat quietly, drinking from her goblet. As she set it on the table before the silent matriarch, she backed.

"How many times have I had to tell you to have everything ready before I sit down?" The calm tone normally unnerved the servants, but Agata was used to it. "Your duties are simple but, why does it seem that you haven't the ability to follow simple rules?" Dark eyes remained on the maroon placemat, dishes and baskets before her.

"I have no excuse, mother."

"Was this failing of your design or someone elses?"

"Gala dumped the pot onto the floor and we had to make another pot." She wasn't totally sure why that fact was important now, normally Agata was blamed no matter what.

"Then I trust you will take care of this problem and see that it never happens again, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How are you ever to claim that you're my daughter when you do this kind of thing," Maelona screamed as she backfisted the girl. Agata hit the floor hard, nearly stumbling into Gala and Lisabet as they tried to retreat themselves. "Get up!"

Agata pushed herself up and turned back towards the enraged face, horrific with anger as yellowed eyes seemed to glow. Her own pain melted as she began to fear for her own life for the first time, ever. Fists clenched as she prepared for the worst, she stood her ground.

"Get that thing out of my sight and if she fails again...," Maelona seethed through clenched teeth. Prompted into action, Agata grabbed the shaking servant and dragged her through the kitchen and into the large pantry.

* * *

Maelona calmed herself as she felt the anger in her daughter while she ate. With each crack of the lash, she began to finally believe that this one would survive long enough to make a name within the coven. Grinning in delight, she enjoyed her dinner.

Page 4 - Darkness Falls

Muffled scrubbing in the hallway was the only distraction the student had while she read her lesson for the week. Flora lore and xenobiotics were becoming a fascinating area of study for the witch-in-training as Agata sat within the large study. Light spilled down from the three chandeliers above and overpowered the lamps around the room, suspended on the walls by wrought iron holders. As she finished her computations in her notebook, familiar boots echoed into the doorway and blue eyes looked up to notice the weaponsmith as he stepped into the room. Tall, the martial artist's lean body confidently displayed muscles grown of toil in the forge and field alike.

"Ready," his deep voice called as he approached the table.

Nodding, Agata closed her book and stood. "How are you, Uncle Soren?"

"Fine," he grinned. "Although, haven't yet had the opportunity to test any of my weapons on a jedi. Ask me then."

She chuckled and followed him into the hallway and right to the training room. Opening up, the smooth, dark stone floor sported red fangs which resembled rising flame into the black background in the center of the room. Slowing, her right hand rose and summoned her staff which slowly moved towards the novice.

"You've been practising, I see," he commented. "Not bad."

"Mother taught me last week," she informed proudly as she turned and squared on her teacher.

"Today's lesson is..."

"Blindfolded," Maelona interrupted from the doorway, standing as a wraith in the shadow of the hall behind her.

"Blindfolded," Soren repeated. He reached into his thin, black leather vest and produced a long, dark brown cloth and approached Agata. Wrapping it around her eyes, he tied it off below her pony tail, then returned to his previous position. "Use the Force to block my attacks and make your own. Open your mind and allow yourself to mold the energy to your will."

Agata calmed herself and concentrated, feeling the ebb and flow soon as a flurry of attacks caught her off guard. Trying her best to anticipate his moves, it was several bruises later before her anger and fear honed her perceptions and she began to block nearly half of his strikes.

"Not bad," he commended. "But, you're better than this. Attack me!" he yelled as he continued his onslaught.

In her mind, she knew that she was betraying all she had been taught thus far and also knew that her mother was imagining how best to inspire more progress in the young acolyte.

"A jedi is trying to kill you," Maelona screamed. "This effort is pitiful. You're wasting our time!"

As tears welled with the constant barrage, she finally lunged and attacked, ignoring the countering strikes and hits until a solid strike to the side of her head sent sparks into her vision. Frustrated, she fell to her knees as desperation drove her on. Anger turned to hatred at her failings. Screaming, she jumped up and felt the weapon in her hand, the air around them and her opponent as she used the energy within her and focused it in her hands.

"That's it!" Soren yelled. "Good!"

Echoing within the square-shaped room, the pop of wood carried on as grunts of exertion mixed in until she felt the power coursing through her veins.

"Outstanding," the elder stated, motioning with his hand and stopping her cold with a cushion of air. "That's it, you did it."

Agata stopped, panting from the fight as her soreness melted into her emotion. It felt great, she thought as he untied the blindfold and blue eyes turned to him, glowing with anger.

"Next time," Maelona began. "You'll beat him without getting hit once. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," she replied as her mother turned and headed back to her lab without waiting for a reply. As she relaxed however, the pain from the multiple bruises overpowered the adrenaline. But, there were medicines for that.

* * *

Once lunch was completed, she went to her room and closed the door. Padding across the thick carpet, she entered the bathroom and turned to face the mirror. As she undressed, she noticed the purple splotches that dotted her lean body. Sore muscles ached as she removed her shirt and pants, then raised her arms to untie her ponytail. The long, hot bath was soothing and she nearly fell asleep.
Within two months they would be finding out the location for their next meeting. She knew it would be a few years before she got the chance to compete with other acolytes to become a full-fledged witch herself. Imagining her victory, standing over the bruised body of her opponent, her mother might actually smile as Agata accepted her necklace and finally got to wear the tatoos of a Sith on her forehead like the ones that her mother kept under her greying black hair. Soon.

Page 5 - Gathering

Carrying her gear, Agata moved down the stairs from her bedroom, hoping that she hadn't forgotten anything this time. Heading to the annual gathering for the Pachmari, she had no idea where it would be held this year. She had attended with her mother for the past sixteen years, the first two years she wasn't allowed to go, her mother never stated why and she didn't ask. Now eighteen, the tall, shapely body forged in constant drill and training effortlessly carried her mother's packs as well, wondering what Maelona would be using this time to gain prestige within the sisterhood. Nothing had been mentioned as their relationship hadn't changed overly much. Turning left, she followed the witch to the door normally locked and kept off-limits to everyone except the engineer who had been won in a contest three years ago against a notable sister, Lovisa. Attempts had been made since to get Renik back but, to no avail.

Shutting off the primary sensors, Agata waited patiently as their matriarch began unlocking the hangar door and access. Once done, they walked into the stale air of the large hangar, footsteps echoing within the hollow confines as lights around the landing area slowly illuminated to highlight the bottom of the modified freighter. Kept in the shadows, the vessel was purposely not used more than once a year to keep local thieves and others from finding their home.
Ramp lowered, she quickly moved to the stateroom and began shoving the large, tan packs into the locker, then closed the thin metal door and headed to her own small room beside it as their servants, five females and three males, stowed their own gear and got strapped in for departure. She ran to the cockpit and jumped into the copilot seat as Maelona finished the preflight. Dancing across the controls, practised fingers prepped the Corellian freighter and soon lifted off. Banking right, Agata watched as the darkened shadows of their home and the forested mountains to either side sped passed and soon disappeared as the Vechta rose into the night sky and sped for the darkness of space.

Pinpricks of light quickly elongated into a flash as the vessel then entered hyperspace.

"You'll stay in here and keep an eye on things, understood," Maelona informed as she plotted three more jump points to their final destination.

"Yes, ma'am," Agata replied, watching as numbers were punched into the navicomputer. She had a basic knowledge of things in the cockpit from their many trips but, not enough to take over herself. Especially in combat. "Will you be competing this time?" she asked quietly.

"Perhaps," the older woman stated, preoccupied. "Do you think you're ready for the ring?"

Agata's heart leapt. "Yes, mother."

Cold, black eyes turned to her, greyish face dully reflected pulsing lights within the dim confines. "I'm going to put your name forward for membership. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't. I promise." Agata could barely conceal her smile as excitement welled at her chance to finally be recognized as a witch. She had been training her whole life for this moment and now she could prove all the years of hard work.

* * *

Once landing on the remote temperate world, the Vechta found a spot near a large lake whose indigenous plant life glowed a dull green from beneath the gentle waves. She had never seen this world before as their gatherings were purposely changed each year. Heading down the ramp, she followed her mother out into the humid air and she finally realized why this world was lightly populated. A light, sulphurous smell emanated from the lake and permeated the land, no crops would ever grow here, she thought. Picking out the other vessels underneath their camo netting, she noticed the large, single story, temporary building which commanded the center of the landing site and matched the dull yellowish green of their surroundings. Hopefully it would remain concealed during their ritual from any potential prying eyes above.

Moving the flap aside, Maelona led her into the spacious interior lined with seats in two half-circles and four rows deep, most filled by elder members on the right and their acolytes on the left. Within the forefront and center, other witches in black and maroon robes mingled among one another as Agata recognized familiar faces. Nearly four inches taller than her mother, she spied several friends among the crowd of women as they entered the ring.

"Maelona," Lovisa called as she approached, silver necklace gleaming in the lamplight. "You'll be giving me all your servants this time," her dark green eyes gravitated to Agata. "And everything else."

"We'll see," the cold reply. Agata knew the younger witch was no match for her mother, never had been, and she wondered what the middle-aged conjuror had in mind. "You've been good enough to give me a host of servants that I've been able to keep and no one takes from me what I don't allow. You know that."

A crease crawled up the pale cheek as Lovisa turned and drifted back into the crowd. "You should watch for poisons, mother," Agata whispered.

Turning, the elder witch glared. "You think me a novice, child?" she spat, turned and left her apprentice to fend for herself.

Taking her cue, she moved towards the seats until noticing Runa, another apprentice to an elder, Sister Ulika. "Hello, there," she greeted as she sat in the chair next to the equally athletic-looking teenager.

"How's your training coming?"

"Well, yours?"

The blonde nodded as brown eyes gazed to the central crowd that began to dissipate to their respective seats. "Finally started learning some new martial techniques. My master is going to allow me to compete this week," she beamed proudly.

"You too? Hopefully they don't pair us, I'm not ready to down you yet," Agata stated matter-of-factly.

Chuckling, Runa turned to stare at the confident acolyte who had been trained well for nearly fourteen years now. Agata knew that she had to back up her confidence now, just like everyone else.

Page 6 - The Gathering (2)

As many of the newest witches tried to gain prestige by showing off their recently acquired knowledge, she kept mental notes on how far along she was already and realized her training may never be over. Her mother stated many times that no one ever learned everything, only what had been preserved through years of brutality and war. Many of the books that she had read supported that theory and there were times she wished to go on an excavation. Korriban, Dxun and many other worlds held secrets long buried in quiet valleys and forgotten ruins.

Soon, she noticed Maelona rise and approach the center of the ring, gaining the full attention of the elders. "I've come to this gathering with my greatest accomplishment. Many of the locals praise me and offer gifts in my name and have for generations. This one is the most highly prized," she half-turned. "Agata, come to me child."

Standing, she felt the adrenaline pump with each step. Passing through the narrow lane, she entered into the eastern aisle and quietly moved to her master's side.

"I'm sponsoring my student and daughter today to become one of us," the stooped witch pronounced.

Agata felt a swell of pride at the announcement as she studied the hooded faces, enshrouded in quiet darkness as they all returned her attention.

"What does she have that is worthy of our time, sister," Ulika, their matriarch asked as wind buffeted their large tent.

"Agata has mastered the art of the sword as well as begun her training in chemistry and Sith Lore. She can beat any student and new witch in this room."

"Bold words," Lovisa's unmistakable retort cut through the thick air from behind them. "Let's see her prove it. Anyone can fight."

"Excluding you, of course," Maelona returned without the courtesy of eye contact. A few chuckles rose and slowly fell away.

Eagerly awaiting the chance, Agata stood like a caged howlrunner. Maelona backed to her seat as the quiet moments lingered and she almost chose her own opponent until Gladine turned towards the left. "Jonna, you will prove this one for acceptance."

Blue eyes turned to notice the young, lithe witch rise and approach. Nearly her match in height and apparent weight, Agata studied the brown eyes as Gladine rose and approached them with two wooden staves cradled in her arms, maroon robes flowing with each step until she stopped a few feet away. "This contest is to the first blood. If Maelona's student wins, she will be allowed to test for ascension. May the Force serve you well."

Agata reached for and accepted the weapon, then stepped back as the elder retreated to the side of the large, round ring. She took a long breath and attacked. Keeping her focus, she began to feel the familiar energy flow through her body as the contest became heated. Blocks and feints proved that the other girl was indeed worthy of her title as they danced, parried and attacked. Finally, she felt the power and saw the opening, feinting left, she stabbed with the other end with a lunge that caught her opponent off guard. Aggressively, she kept up the flurry of blows until feeling the sudden burst of energy slap her front, knocking her back a step.

"Enough," Gladine yelled as Agata panted from the exertion, then finally noticed the trickle of blood from Jonna's nose as the brunette pushed herself up. Eyeing the acolyte, she nodded and laid her staff on the ground, then returned to her seat. Agata had won.

She turned and faced the rounded seats filled with elder witches and bowed respectfully, then eyed Jonna's staff. With a small effort, she extended her hand and accepted the floating weapon, then handed both to their judge and backed to stand with her mother who stood quietly.

* * *

After three hours of drilling and tests with various concoctions and simple computations, Agata stood again before the panel of her betters.

Ulika cleared her throat as she straightened. "Recite to us the tenets of the Force."

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory I gain glory. The Force shall free me," Agata replied as she had been taught many years ago.

"How does passion serve us and defeat our enemy?" Gladine asked.

"Passion is a powerful emotion that fuels our desires and gives us the avenues to touch the purer, deeper energies around us. Our enemy believe they can defeat their human side and somehow rise above what they feel. We can turn that against them and have many times."

A gentle nod within the thick hood gave her the assurance that she was hoping for and wondered how much longer these tests would last. Normally, students weren't allowed to sit in on these proceedings so she never knew what to expect.

"Maelona," Ulika called and she felt her mother approach and step up beside her. "You have proven yourself yet again and we agree that your daughter is ready to accept full membership into the Pachmari. Congratulations."

Agata bowed, beaming with pride as the smile puffed the smooth, tanned face. Rising, she waited as the elder approached and produced the treasured silver necklace which she raised and placed around the young neck. Resting upon her thick, dark grey robes, the pendant's shiny face reflected the surrounding light.

Ulika smiled beneath her hood, creasing an already aged face. "We look for great things from you in the future. You have a great mentor, young one."

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"I see that there is one more contest to complete before we break for dinner," Ulika stated as she turned to their right and all eyes noticed Lovisa standing impatiently at the edge of the ring. "Maelona, do you accept this challenge?"

"Absolutely," the dark eyes gleamed, then turned to her daughter. "Agata, wait for me outside, this will only take a moment."

Blue eyes turned to her master, "Yes, mother," she bowed, then headed passed the awaiting victim of her master's wrath. She knew that this fight was overdue and would probably end in death for the constant thorn in Maelona's side. As she passed through the flap into the sulphurous filled air, she noted the darkness and soon the pinpricks of light above. As she calmed herself, a muffled explosion of electricity and the pulsation of power emanated from the arena which prompted Agata to stop and turn nervously. Reaching out, she tried to make sure her mentor was alright.

'I said, I'll meet you in a moment,' the mental reminder.

Agata smiled as she resumed her walk to the ship.

Page 7 - The Muster

"Stop fidgeting," Maelona instructed angrily as the buzz from the laser pen echoed loudly in the small room. Agata gripped the towel in her lap tightly, eyes closed as the rumbling in her forehead rattled her teeth. Chin gripped in her mother's cold hand, she allowed the torture to continue as her tattoos were applied. Rising from her brow, the black ink border confined intricate, ivy-like designs that surrounded dark fire rising in the center in the shape of a oblong sun. Ending at her hairline, the badge that she had worked for the past eighteen years to attain would be treasured the rest of her life.

Finally, the hour long procedure was complete. As the pen clicked off, Agata could still hear the rattle that echoed in her ears in time with the searing pain. Slowing her breathing, she concentrated and tried to ease her mind into embracing and turning it into something pleasant as her mother returned the pen to the case on the shelf next to her.

"The area in the center, over your nose will be where you will tally the jedi that you kill in the future," Maelona's dark voice instructed. "I expect many."

"Yes, mother," she replied quietly, eyes still clenched shut.

"Just because you've won the rite of ascension, that doesn't mean that you're through with your studies. Many more contests await you in the future and soon, you'll be hunting our enemy into extinction."

Blue eyes finally opened and turned to view the grey, wrinkled face as the dark gaze returned the attention. "I had a dream last night that we were called to join a fleet."

Maelona nodded as she moved to the narrow, rounded door. "Yes, the dark lord will be calling us to war soon. As I said," she began as the portal slid open. "Your trials have only just begun, my daughter."

* * *

As the final day of the gathering came to a close, Agata sat within the cockpit. Knees propped up against the control panel, she read through another large tome detailing the history of the Pachmari, another gift from the elders given to all new witches. Most of it became familiar as Maelona had allowed her to study their history and lore for years. Chapters on other things such as poisons and other areas of chemistry and their various uses as well as safe storage for the more volatile liquids caught her attention however. As she drank in the information, the rampway motors whined announcing their imminent departure. Quickly pushing herself up in the high-backed chair, she closed the book and spun. Rising, she headed down the long tunnel to see the black, stringy hair swaying with each labored step.

"We're leaving. Exar Kun has summoned us to his world," Maelona informed. "Hurry back to the cockpit, child."

"Yes, ma'am." Agata backed out of her master's way, then sprinted to her room and stuffed the tome back into her backpack, slammed the closet door shut and raced back to the copilot seat as the engines sprang to life. Soon, the small fleet of freighters and personal craft rose into the air like a flock of lyvan and burned a trail through the thick atmosphere to soon enter the darkness of space. One by one, their white bodies elongated and disappeared in a flash.

As they finalized the trip to Yavin IV, Agata studied their route as gnarled fingers punched in the coordinates, then retreated as her aged mentor sat back and closed her eyes.

"Are you alright, mother," Agata asked.

"I'm fine, silence."

Nodding, she sat back and turned her attention to the lines of light speeding by the cockpit window and felt the energy level rise and knew that her master was meditating. Closing her eyes, she eased her breathing and soaked in the energies floating by in a swirl of power which she tapped into. Permeating her skin, she drew it into her very being as she had been taught, molding that power and storing it for the uncertain future. Eagerly, she hoped for glory in the coming fight as she pictured her enemy in brown robes falling as her blade burned through them with each hungry swing. Smiling, she envisioned marking lines over her nose for each victory over the oppressive Order which had been borne ingrained into the weak Republic. Puppets of the jedi, their weakness sickened her and she knew that once Exar Kun defeated the Republic fleet, the organization of corrupt systems would be theirs for the taking. The Pachmari would inhabit the jedi temple, redecorating it with their own memorials to victory.

"We would never accept the stink that lives there," Maelona's voice cut in. "It will be destroyed and we'll build our own temple on their ashes. Everyone will know our names and they'll tremble."

Page 8 - Yavin IV

Setting down into the thickly forested landscape, Agata noticed the small fleet of freighters that had flown with them disappear into other small clearings. Turning off the primary systems, Maelona glanced over.

"Get our things, we'll be leaving the ship with them."

"Yes, ma'am." Agata unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed herself up beyond the navicomputer and headed to their berthing. Excitedly, she grabbed her weapons belt and strapped it on, then buckled her smaller vibrodagger across her left thigh. Shouldering her pack, she moved to her mother's chamber and hefted both large packs full of books, clothing and who knew what else, then kneed the locker door closed. With each step towards the opening rampway, she smelled the fresh, warm air full of exotic plants and trees with the soft hint of dark power in the background. Touching her deeply, the sense of another darker presence permeated the very ground here and excited her as she felt the goosebumps rise below her tailored vacsuit. Passing her, Maelona labored down the long ramp and out into the thick, high grass as the call of some exotic avian flew overhead and disappeared.

As she walked out underneath the buried escape pod, her view opened up beyond the tall, dark olive boughs to the clouded sky which vainly covered the red gas giant that dwarfed it's forested moon. Rising, the ramp closed as the master and her apprentice headed towards the dark grey, stone temple as the engines revved and lifted off.

"You trust Renik to head straight back to Vuchelle, mother," she asked.

"If he doesn't, then he'll answer to me when this is over," Maelona explained between labored breaths as the stooped witch approached the large entryway as other darkly clad members filed in from various points and up the wide stair.

Green eyes, burning with a soft fire at their edges noticed in the darkened entryway, the large, red skinned guards who stood to either side, long polearms standing at the ready. Thick protrusions fell down from their head and back resembling sparse, coiled hair and she wondered what these beasts could be. Nothing had ever been mentioned before of this race in her tomes over the years. The original Sith were similar in coloration of skin, but not size or facial features.

"Why do you concern yourself so much with the servants, child?" Maelona's mental interruption.

"You've taught me to be mindful of everything in my surroundings, mother."

"True. These beasts are the dark lord's newest army that will protect his headquarters. In time, you will learn how to manipulate genetics and create your own servants without having to rely on the weaker beasts that inhabit most worlds. Once done, that will prove your skills as well as your place at my side."

"Yes, ma'am," she replied, dreaming for that day.

A long, darkened arm pointed to her right. "Our quarters are that way, stow my gear."

"Yes, mother," Agata bowed and turned to the darker corridor that intersected the immense hall. Noticing more acolytes, she awesomed many other Orders were joining this fight from all over the galaxy. Smiling, she couldn't wait for her first encounter with a jedi to prove her training. Turning into the second door on the right, she noticed the female members of the Pachmari claiming their lockers which flanked the beds along the dorm-like room. Realizing that the elders had claimed their berths near the door, she meandered through the dimly lit room to the first two empty beds and claimed them.

"Those are mine," a young, female voice stated from behind as Agata plopped the heavy sacks onto both cots to her left and right.

"Were," she stated matter-of-factly, then turned to notice Samua, another acolyte who eyed her coldly. Motioning with her head, "Those are empty, I suggest you choose one or two before they're taken as well."

"Just because you've recently attained the rank of witch, doesn't mean you're better than anyone else."

Drawing her blade, she stepped up and held it to the brunette's throat. "Really? Move on, or I'll show you how wrong you are."

After a few tense moments, the younger witch-in-training backed and headed across the aisle, glaring at the taller defender as Agata smiled.

Once her chores were completed and dinner prepared in the small kitchen at the end of the bay, she returned to Maelona who sat on the side of her own bed. Setting the bowls down quietly, she placed the pitcher of water to the side atop a small table at the head and sat upon her own cot. Looking into the intense face, she recognized the meditative state and calmed herself, drawing in her own piece of the power that this place possessed. Nearly overwhelmed by the intesity, she revelled in the ebb and flow now available, drinking it in. Soon, she opened her eyes as her mother picked up her bowl and began eating.

"We'll not be here long," Maelona informed.

Agata nodded as she ate as well.

"Once you've cleaned my dishes, explore the neighboring forest before the chance is lost. Bring me any interesting herbs you find."

"Yes, mother."

"It's been said that there's a particular yellow flower that holds within it's center a blood red pistil. Bring it to me."

* * *

As she left the understood border of the compound, she moved into the heavily populated forest filled with various types of wide-leaved plants, unique animals and large insects, some of which she had to fight off as they buzzed her head. Into the darkened triple canopy, she began to realize that it would be easy to get lost in here as she sought the yellow flower in particular. Scanning in every direction, she soon noticed the spots of lighter color high in the boughs to her right. As she began moving towards the thick, deep grey trunk she noticed movement on a lower branch as the large, reptilian creature shifted it's weight. From this distance, she hazarded it's size to about six feet long and easily two or three hundred pounds. It's long, barbed tail firmly wrapped around the trunk behind it, its' claws supported it's large size buried deep into the branch it rested on. This would be tricky, she thought as she slowly continued on through the bushes.

She stopped, closed her eyes and calmly reached out to soon find the immediate threats and other unseen creatures that she couldn't see naturally. Within her short range, she noticed another student out here hiding to her right and behind a tree watching her, possibly sent here for the same gift. No doubt, he would wait until Agata had already gained the prize and fight her for it, not terribly ingenious but, definitely the easier route to take.

Opening her eyes, she grinned. Turning to her right, she approached the hidden acolyte who tried to keep out of sight. "I know you're there," she whispered. "Tell you what, we work together and I promise you one of the flowers."

Dark brown eyes peered around the trunk from the paler, oblong face as he grinned, looked upward to their obstacle and stepped out. "What'd you have in mind?"

She motioned towards the trunk as she led him towards it, keeping her eyes upward as the bulging sides nearly engulfed the branch high above. Concentrating, she tugged on the branch at the base, mentally pulling with all her might until she heard the cracking and soon, the beast lurched downward, trying to keep ahold of the long, dark green limb as Agata dodged behind the tree. Slamming into the underbrush with a crash, she turned to notice the acolyte frozen, staring into the cold, yellow-green eyes of the reptile, then turn and run as the beast gave chase.

Stepping out from cover, she smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Re-entering the compound, she headed towards the dorm, prizes within her small pack hanging from her belt as the quiet halls held small groups of masters and apprentices alike. Lightsabers of all shapes and sizes hung from their belts and she knew someday she would have one, though her proficiency was in blades. The true mark of a Sith however was in the lightsaber and she would someday make her own, she thought as she headed into the dorm and to her master who reclined on her bed, large tome across her chest.

Rounding the foot of her bed, she sat across from her master and produced the sack.

"What took you so long," the dark reply.

"I had to find them, master."

Maelona sat up, closing her book. Suddenly, the slap echoed loudly in the low-ceilinged room as Agata quietly eyed her master, the familiar sting announcing itself. "I'll not have that insolence, young lady. I wanted them and that meant not taking your time about it," dark eyes glowed as she snatched the pack from Agata and opened the flap to view all three flowers. "Hmm. Matured to the right age, you got lucky."

"Yes, ma'am. What are we to do with them?"

Maelona glanced to the other witches at various points of rest and training. "Later," she spat. "Keep your mouth shut about this. Did anyone else see you take them?"

"He's dead," she informed, seeing the remains on her return trip. As the dark eyes stared into her own, she felt the tendrils of mental probing and allowed her mother to travel wherever she liked. Soon, an evil grin creased the greyish face, enshrouded in strands of dark, greying hair.

"Well done."

Page 9 - Ryloth

Emerging from hyperspace, the large fleet of Gunships and Dreadnaughts collected near the unsuspecting homeworld of a well known race. Had the Twi'lek's known of their arrival, the world would've been abandoned.

"We'll be taking some time on the world, grab our things," Maelona informed as Agata rose from her seat on the floor and headed to the storage lockers at the foot of their beds. Having a more private room, they enjoyed working with several of the drugs and such that they could pilfer from the medical bay's supplies. Agata was becoming knowledgeable of how common pharmaceuticals could be used in other concoctions. Her education was progressing well in the three month trip it had taken to get here and she had enjoyed each day to learn more from the one that she would someday replace.

Shouldering the packs, she followed her master down the long, diamond shaped hallway beyond other suites on their way to the hangar bay. Whining of engines, droids skittering from to and fro as well as yelling from the various crew chiefs greeted them in the thick, exhaust permeated air. Up the short rampway, she sat next her mother and strapped herself into the bench seat which flanked the long passenger bay as others followed suit. Staring across from herself, she noticed the tall, lanky student who sat and stored his gear underneath their seats. His dishevelled, light brown hair and lanky features told of a swordsman as she then noticed his lightsaber buried within his dark grey robes. As she scanned the growing crowd as they readied for departure, she noticed many masters and apprentices traveling with them along with two squads of armored men, enshrouded in chrome like plating carrying carbines across their backs or team-slung underneath their arms.

Leaning over to her mother, "Is this world friendly to the Sith," she asked.

"Not yet," the cold reply.

She nodded and backed as the shuttle lifted off.

Soon, they landed and she watched the troops quickly disembark, rifles at the ready and she realized that they were part of an invasion that would take the planet ignorant of their newest guests. Calmly, many of those seated near the exits rose and gathered their things, then followed into the bright sunlight. Agata unlatched her harness and grabbed their gear as Maelona stood and led her towards the starboard hatch and descended the short walkway into a large, rounded starport. High, the walls full of multilayered offices and other facilities, she followed to the large breezeway that bridged the landing area to the parking lot and main street as dark plumes of smoke rose in the air from different locales throughout the city. In the distance, she could hear occasional explosions and blaster fire. Entering the street, Maelona stopped and turned as Agata followed her eyes to the approaching speeder. Aware of the impending collision, she dropped the packs and drew her sword as the wide-eyed driver slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt not feet from them.

"What are you doing," Maelona yelled as Agata turned back to her master. "Pick those up!"

Nodding in confusion, she resheathed her sword and gathered their things.

"Don't ever do that again! You know what those packs contain! Fool child," Maelona's disgust simmered as she approached the passenger side of the vehicle, motioned as the rear door opened and she got in. Agata followed suit and joined her in the back seat, then closed the door.

"Take us to the nearest hotel," the dark witch directed to the dazed Twi'lek. "Now!" He nodded, turned the wheel and coursed through several sidestreets until they reached a large, multileveled building. It's tall entry lined with white columns greeted them as he stopped and half turned, allowing them to get out as Agata opened the door. "You'll be our driver," Maelona stated as she looked back to notice the hand gesture and the alien's eyes glaze in acceptance of his new role in life. Turning off the ignition, he opened his door and followed them into the lush, richly decorated lobby as they noticed most had probably run or were in hiding from the fighting. Reflecting off of the wine colored marble, the darkly clad witch labored towards the turbolift as Agata scanned the distant lounge and pool beyond. Stepping into the rounded lift, she pushed the uppermost button and waited as they were carried upward. Had their newest slave not pissed himself, she could swear that his body odor was the most horrid that she'd ever encountered. That would have to be remedied soon, she thought to herself as the doors slid open and they exited into the penthouse level. Turning left, she glanced back right and out the large window to see the vista view of the city sprawled out before them. Tan and fire-red colored rooves in many directions and configurations carried her eyes out to the distant green hills now enshrouded in rising columns, memorials to those dying and suffering under the Sith boot.

As she stored her master's gear into the large, walk-in closet, she suddenly heard arguing in some odd dialect and sprinted back out into the lavish living room to see another well dressed alien suspended by his neck in the air, hands gripping his throat. Wide-eyed, his head tails flailed wildly as his cream colored skin slowly became blue.

"Open the patio doors," Maelona calmly instructed, prompting Agata to move and push both wood framed, curtained doors wide. As she stepped back, his body glided passed her and beyond the short, wrought iron wall. Pleading amidst gasps for air, he suddenly dropped and she moved to watch him disappear until suddenly hitting the pavement below, not a few feet from the pool. Grinning, she headed back inside as Maelona explored their temporary home.

"How long will we be here, mother," she asked as they passed into the large dining room.

"Not long. A week perhaps. We're waiting on the Vice-Admiral to arrive with the rest of the fleet and from here, we're off to Mandalore," the low voice echoed off of the marble walls and brass fixtures until they stepped into the large, white tiled kitchen. Suddenly, a door on the far side burst open and Agata moved to collect five Twi'lek females and one male who all cowered as the one nearest to the door possibly lost her balance, revealing their hiding place.

"You will all serve us," Maelona's entrancing voice commanded which spurred their new staff into action.

Glancing into the large pantry, Agata made sure there was no one else hiding in any dark corners beyond the food-filled shelves. Finding none, she rejoined Maelona in the dining room. "This is nice," she mentioned.

"It needs to be scrubbed from their stink," Maelona spat. "Once done, then it will be inhabitable. Don't get too comfortable here."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Leave me and explore. Return for dinner."

Green eyes glanced to her master, "Of course, mother. Is there anything in particular that I should keep an eye out for?"

"Had I needed anything, I would've stated so," dark pits glared back and Agata took her cue and headed for the front door. Leaving the suite, she took the turbolift back to the lobby and headed out into the quiet streets as the sounds of distant combat echoed through the high-walled avenues lined with various establishments, homes and other venues of vice. Eventually, she found herself in the marketplace as other acolytes gathered, some interrogating or terrorising the locals as Sith guards patrolled. Apparently not all the alien population resisted the occupation.

Disappearing into a sidestreet, she noticed other small shops and quickly dismissed most until finding what appeared to be an antique shop. Pushing open the glass divided, red wood door, she noticed books and other knick-knacks piled upon small tables, hanging from the ceiling and lining the rear counter as two heavyset Twi'leks emerged from a back room. In the dim light that flowed in from the window display, she concentrated and sought out anything Force created or attuned. Finding little, she eventually made her way to the quiet proprietor who smiled nervously.

"How may I serve," he greeted, lisping through jagged teeth. His blue skin lightened underneath his chins and within both sweating palms.

"I'm seeking any artifacts or any books on Jedi or Sith. Have anything like that?" she inquired, hands on hips.

He shrugged as lighter blue eyes glanced beyond her into his collection. "Nothing such as those but, there is something that may interest you," he smiled as he leaned over the dark brown, wooden counter. "There's a farm north of here with some items that you'd be interested in. Two miles from the edge of town in a small compound."

Head cocked to the side, her interest piqued. "Oh? What type of items?"

His smile widened. "You'll see."

Nodding, she backed as she glanced beyond he and the silent partner in leather apron and into the workshop to see the shadowed interior. No telling what he was hiding, but she really didn't feel like tearing this place apart for something that may not be here. Turning, she headed back to the door.

"You come back, lady. Take care."

Opening the door, she glanced back unemotionally and headed back into the alleyway. Along the uneven, flagstone walk, she found herself back in the marketplace. Standing at the edge, she noticed to her left a smaller acolyte in black robes carressing a female slave. Laying across his lap, she nervously looked away as his fingers coursed along her cheek.

"Why are you wasting your time with that," she asked, disdain pouring from her tongue.

Dark brown eyes rose to her, "She's mine. Find your own," his coarse, low voice announced.

Chuckling in disgust, she diverted her gaze to a quiet alien as he walked into a boisterous cantina across the square. Suddenly, the explosion ripped through the doorway and front window, blowing her backward into the alley as glass and dirt quickly fogged her vision as she scrambled to take cover against the nearest wall. Crashing and rumbling resounded throughout the marketplace until soon, the cries of the wounded and muffled, tinny orders from the helmeted sergeant resounded as the fog lifted. Now all she had to do was find a vehicle.

Page 10 - The Resistance

"Orders are, shoot all of them," the sergeant informed as Agata emerged from the narrow avenue to notice Sith troopers level their weapons and fired into every alien in sight. Running and screaming, the Twi'leks dropped in groups and singly as she watched, then noticed the acolyte who had been enjoying one of the locals withdraw his dagger from her neck as she slumped to the ground.

Red bolts ripped through the air and became more sporadic as the troopers disappeared into shops and other doorways as she noticed two other acolytes approach her. Both male, they sported lightsabers and the traditional grey and black robes. She recognized the taller one whose sandy hair waved in the light breeze.

"Tiam," he introduced, then motioned to his comrade. "This is Arcadian."

"Hi," she nodded. "Agata," as she followed their eyes to the younger one, wiping off his dagger as he rose.

"You through playing with that thing," Tiam asked.

Sinister dark eyes turned to them beneath a heavy brow in a state of perpetual disdain for everything around him. "Why," he hissed.

"I've been given an address and wondered if you all wanted to take a ride," she mentioned as she eyed the sergeant strolling into the square and moved to him.

"What are we going there for," Arcadian asked.

"Items of interest is what I was told," she informed as the trooper stopped, black visor turning her direction. "I need a transport, or shuttle to take us north of here."

He nodded and turned as she heard the muffled communications within his helmet notifying him of his unit's progress. Looking back to her, "I have one on the way, madam."

"Good." She turned back to the trio and waited until soon, the whine of repulsors approached to reveal the wide, low speeder truck arrive and stop near them. Moving around to the side entrance, she got in and claimed a seat to notice the sergeant and his squad join them within. Confusion reigned as she wasn't looking for an entourage on this little foray. Sliding the door home, the sergeant sat down as the vehicle lurched and she watched through the windshield as more buildings passed until soon noticing open countryside and sparse trees.

"About a mile from the edge of town," she informed the driver who nodded. Soon, they noticed the ring of small hovels, fenced in by a high stone wall that met at the gate, protected by a foursome of mottled brown, four-legged beasts. She stepped out as the squad filtered onto the dirt road and bordering grass. Growls and barks from the guardians made her realize this place may not be what she had hoped for as she neared the gate, unsheathing her sword.

"What's your name," the smaller, odd acolyte asked from behind and to the left. His low, hissing voice was a bit unnerving.

"Agata, why?"

"What do you do?"

Brow furrowed, she didn't think this was the time for introductions as the sergeant motioned to his men. Suddenly, blaster fire erupted and soon dropped all four of their first obstacles. She watched as no activity or movement within the small buildings made her wonder if the inhabitants were preparing for an ambush.

"Anyone know anything about locks and security," she asked and noticed Arcadian approach, taking out a small pouch and producing a host of small gadgets which he employed as he knelt at the gate. She walked up and watched the silent buildings which still gave no indication of life as Tiam produced a small, handheld computer and pointed it at the compound.

"Fourteen spread among all four buildings," he informed, eyeing the sergeant who nodded.

"What are your orders?" he asked.

"Clean them out once we get in," Tiam directed as he turned to Arcadian. "How's it coming?"

"Only a moment." Several clicks and she watched him rise and push the gate open and step within the patchy grass covered yard. Agata followed and noticed a door open revealing an elderly looking Twi'lek who walked up, surrounded by children.

"What do you wish," he asked in broken Aurebesh. "We have nothing of value here."

"That's not what I was told," Agata glared as a quartet of young stood between her and their elder. Kneeling, she grabbed a female and held the blade of her sword to the small throat. "Care to revise your story?" she grinned darkly, arm across the little one's shoulders and noticed the immediate pleading in the older eyes as his arms reached out.

"Please, don't. We have nothing, I assure you." Frantically, he watched as the troops fanned out and walked to each of the homes, yanking doors open and dragging out the inhabitants, which contained more than they seemed capable.

"Really," Agata continued. "That's not what I was told."

With a flash, Tiam backfisted the Twi'lek as the children screamed, hitting him in the thighs until he knocked them backwards and away. As he fell to the ground, hands went up in defense, "Alright, alright. In that one," he pointed towards the middle building.

"See, was that so hard," Arcadian mocked, leaning over as he replaced his gear into several of the many pouches that lined his belt.

Agata kissed the female on the cheek, then rose as she withdrew her sword, stepped up and plunged it into the elder's chest, then walked away, withdrawing it as she watched the odd one run up excitedly to the target door. Gunfire suddenly erupted and she quickly moved to assist as Tiam and Arcadian joined them. Inside, the darkened interior's modest accomodations surrounded a firefight from a small door within the floor. Noticing a small table, she grabbed it and used it as a shield, allowing the guard and her companions to fire into the unseen enemy. Bolts hit the wall and ceiling as she shoved the table downward at an angle.

Green eyes caught sight of a small, grey cylindrical object fly outward and she quickly brought the table back up to hide behind. "Grenade," she yelled as the others ducked and dodged. Ripping into the rear wall and furniture, the explosion clouded the room, sending shrapnel flying in all directions as the concussion pushed her, the guard and Tiam backwards towards the door. Eyeing the guard, "You have any gas grenades?" she asked.

He nodded, pulled one from his belt as she pushed their shield back up to the darkened entrance. After he tossed it, she slammed the wooden barrier down onto the hole and laid on it. Soon, they heard choking and coughing from deep within the hide until finally, the silence informed them the plan had worked. Rising, she backed and allowed the trooper to descend the stairway. After a few tense moments, he re-emerged.

"They're down," he informed as the sergeant walked in.

"Let's drag them out and check the room," the muffled command.

"I see crates and boxes of what appear to be munitions and weapons," the scout mentioned as Agata stepped from the room and into the daylight as she brushed herself off.

Eerily eyeing Arcadian, their younger comrade glared. "That was fun, let's do it again."

Chuckling, the security expert shook his head. "Where are you from, exactly?"

"I don't know," the hissing reply. "Why, where are you from?"

"A long way from here."

Agata left the squad to their job as she headed back to the gate, noticing the young and several others corralled into the back of the transport as their guard stood nearby. Within her mind, she felt her master's presence.

"Return to me," she mentally commanded.

"Of course, madam." Without thought, she hopped into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Turning the shuttle around, she gunned her transport back towards the city as the rear door slammed shut. As dust roiled up behind her, the radio crackled to life.

"Driver of the shuttle, we command you to stop."

"You might need to send another shuttle to pick up your squad and a few others," Arcadian informed. "We have to get back to the city."

"Who is this?"

"Arcadian Trask, Sith acolyte. Why?"

A long pause and Agata glanced back to her grinning companion as he then eyed a wounded trooper laying against the passenger's seat. Soon, long minutes eeked into silence as they reached the outskirts of town.

"I guess they got the message," she stated.

"It would appear that way."

"Nice acrobatics by the way," she commended, remembering his hasty entry as she nearly left everyone. Disgusted that nothing that she considered of value was found, the site would support the army's cause.

"Thanks."

Page 11 - The Retirement

Once she stopped the speeder truck in front of the large hotel, she cut off the engine.

"What about them," Arcadian asked as Agata opened the door. She turned to notice him glance to the children that they had collected from the farming compound. Most sniffling and huddled together.

"I don't care," Agata shrugged as she stepped out. "I didn't go out there for slaves. They're yours." Closing the door, she ran up the flight of wide, low steps and into the quiet lobby. As she rode the turbolift up to the penthouse, she wondered what was required of her now. Her master usually didn't allow her any forewarning so, she had to keep her mind open. Sliding open, the doors peeled away and the darkly dressed witch stepped to the main door and pushed it open as three of their Twi'lek servants scrubbed the marble floor. Echoing off of the lavishly decorated walls, the brushes were probably disturbing her mother's meditations but, the job needed to be done. Turning to the left, she walked into the dining room and noticed Maelona seated at the near end, eating dinner.

"What took you so long?"

Agata prepared herself. "I got some information about some items of interest to the north of town and went to investigate. It ended up being a cell of terrorists who had been storing weapons in their homes," she informed, disappointed.

"What do insurgents have to do with your studies or what we've been trying to accomplish," the dark voice asked, pointed at her plate as the long, thin fingers collected another fork-full of meat.

"Nothing, mother. But, I was hoping that there would've been something of interest to me. The antique shop had some other items..."

"I have a mission for you. This will be done with the utmost secrecy and cleanly. No one is to know that you were ever there," dark eyes finally turned to her. "Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. What is the target?"

"I was just getting to that. Don't interrupt me again."

Agata nodded obediently.

"There is an officer who needs to be replaced." She turned back to her meal as long, greying black hair waved forward as green eyes followed her master's attention to a page sitting on the table. "Why are you still here?"

Agata quickly moved to the table and claimed the page of information, reading it as she exited back to the front living room. Ignoring the servants, she walked into her own room as the address was put to memory as well as the picture of the middle-aged man. His firm jaw, deeply set blue eyes and clean cut look told of a military figure, possibly. He was also in his apartment with five guards and no doubt an impressive security system. This was going to take some planning and a lot of preparation but, the newly promoted witch excitedly took in all she could about her prey and the fact that she finally had a chance to prove her training and gain some prestige.
Taking out her pack, she dug into the clothes neatly folded and found her notebook. Within a few hours, she gathered all the ingredients that she needed and used the kitchen to create her poisons. Once stored into small vials, she returned to her room and dressed down into her close-fitting, black body suit, then strapped on her dagger and vibrosword, then headed out to get to work.

Into the night the shadow moved, keeping to the darker points of alleys and corners. With the curfew in affect, she couldn't get caught by anyone as that would also prove that she was no more worthy to be called a sister of the Pachmari than she was a year ago. Gazing across the narrow, two-lane street, she noticed the tall, wide building rise up before her. Quietly, a soft breeze blew scraps of paper across her view as she studied the architecture of the building, calculating her route up the wall and to the roof. It would be easier from the adjacent building, she thought as she backtracked and soon entered a darkened alleyway and climbed up the shallow, jutting window sills and drainpipe. Once on the roof, she gazed over the dimly lit, light grey rooves which seemed to create a boxey, manmade plain that stretched for miles in every direction, broken up by the large arena to the east and taller hotels to the west. Padding to the far edge, she crouched and studied the opposite walls and rooftop.
'The Force shall free me', she thought, then rose and backed to the central air recycler as it hummed steadily. Turning, she sprinted and then leapt, launching herself and with the assistance of the flowing energy through her lithe body, landed on the roof, rolled and stood. Moving to a cluster of thick pipes and oval shaped tanks, she knelt down and retrieved the tools from her pocket. Moving to the tallest, metal cap glowing faintly in the night, she began working at twisting it off. Once done, she removed the first vial and poured the nearly translucent, greenish liquid into it, then replaced the cap. Putting the tools back into her pocket, she moved to the angled protrusion that jutted from the roof. Squared, the wooden door was the only thing standing in her way. Quickly viewing the frame, she found a simple magnetic apparatus wired to the interior. There had to be another way.

Moving to the edge, she scanned downward as she walked around to each side of the building noticing many balconies until finally curtains swayed from one. Open. Climbing down, she quietly slithered into the room and worked her way around the sleeping man in the large, four-post bed to her right. Alone, he was probably one of the guards or some stupid friend who wasn't worried about anyone's safety. Too bad. Once reaching the door, she opened it and padded out into the darkened hallway and closed it behind her. Scanning to the right and left, she noticed the kitchen beyond the living room and small table on the far left. Moving to the edge of the hallway's entrance, her eyes found it empty also. No one waiting on her here which could've been possible for this test. Once in the kitchen, she produced the other vials and poured them onto the fruit and a pitcher of juice standing within the refrigeration unit. Once done, she moved right to the target's bedroom. Suddenly, a door opened in the far hallway that she had entered in through, causing her to back quickly into the shallow doorway. Panting, quietly, she watched as footsteps approached the living room and she knew all it would take would be for the Colonel to exit his room for a drink of water and she was caught.

Now in the dim light pouring through the wide, double doored patio entrance, the male form walked on towards her, then turned into the kitchen and opened the cabinet for a cup, then closed it. She heard the faucet run for a moment, then turn off as he drank. Once emptied, he placed the cup into the sink and returned towards his room and finally disappeared. Quietly, the intruder watched until the line of light narrowed on the distant floor and was extinguished. With the first vial into the water system, he wouldn't be waking up in the morning.
Waiting for a moment, she finally continued into his room and closed the door. Lying with a companion whom she couldn't make out, the target slept soundly, facing away from the door as Agata moved to the elegantly appointed bathroom. Once into the shower, she slowly pulled the tall door closed and quickly removed her wrench and began twisting off the shower head. Squeaking, she held her breath and hoped no one heard that as expectant eyes glanced back towards the door. Nothing. Getting back to work, she soon had it off and placed the last vial, top opened up into the tube. With the water pressure, he would get a full dose when he and his girlfriend took a shower.

As she lifted the head back to the threaded tube, she heard movement across the tiled floor as someone approached the toilet. Heart racing, killing him with her dagger wouldn't be the clean way that he had to die and she would fail this test, she thought as the cascade echoed. She waited for what seemed like hours until he finished, then headed back into the room. She would have to wait for some time for him to get back to sleep before attempting to replace the head.

* * *

Late the following morning, she rose and stretched. Mission accomplished, she breathed a sigh of relief and was glad that things had gone the way they did. Hopefully her mother felt the same way. Pulling aside the blanket, she rose and pulled on her clothes, then headed out into the living room as the servants moved with plates and bowls of steaming contents to the table. Out of sight, she hoped that they had things prepared before her mother arrived, she didn't feel like doling out any punishment this early. Soon, they exited and she sat down as the familiar brushing of the long, heavy robes approached with the labored breathing and she turned to see the stooped figure enter and take her seat.

"Good morning, mother."

"I take it you were successful," the flat-toned greeting.

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded excitedly. "It was clean. No one will suspect poison. I used..."

"I'll find out soon enough. Eat, we have a meeting with the admiral this afternoon. He's going to inform us on our plan to assist the dark lord against the Republic. We'll be on our way to Coruscant soon."

Page 12 - Declaration

Through a ring of high, framed windows, daylight streamed into the large arena as tiny forms streamed down from dark openings spaced uniformly around the seated interior. Agata stood behind her master with hundreds of other acolytes as a small group of grey uniformed officers stood down on the circular, green field. Blue eyes watched as the stadium filled to near capacity and she wondered at how many this place would actually be able to hold and where they had all come from. The Sisterhood would only fill a small section but it seemed that dark robed individuals and chrome armored troops threatened to be standing on the stairways soon.

'Many of them will be dead within the month,' the authoritative voice interrupted in her mind. 'They are means to an end, child.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

She cleared her mind and blankly stared at the tiny group on the field as another strolled to them, shiny awards and ribbons decorating both sides of his breast as he turned to them and the crowd quieted.

"Fellow Sith," he began. "We've gathered here under the banner of the Sith Empire that is threatened by the ships and long reaching arm of the Jedi. It is now time to take that fight to Coruscant and dine on their blood," the Admiral's deep voice rose with each word. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Admiral Tarkin and have proudly served our Empire for most of my life. Our lord, Exar Kun has envisioned our arm of this invasion to meet him in the enemy's capitol within the month. We will push to the Mandalorian fleet who will join us and assist in this conquest and eventual victory. I'm proud to serve beside all of you who have come from every corner of the galaxy and have fought and bled beside myself and my men for the past three months. Those who have fallen for this great cause will not be forgotten and the spirits of those in the past guide us to glory on this road to those who have kept us in the shadows, murdered our families and destroyed our cities. Here, their oppression stops!" A great cheer rose as Agata was nearly stunned awake, still untouched by the tiny man's claims. She had known none of those things but, they were all considered Sith and had felt compelled to join this crusade. She was just happy to finally get the opportunity to kill Jedi.

As the morning wore on, many others stood and spoke on their views and concerns. Most spouted proud prophecies on their eventual trophies and victory, of which she found hard to believe. But soon, the boasting ended and they began filing back out of the large building. Keeping close to her mother as the witch led her quietly out into the daylight amidst more claims and concerns, she finally noticed several of the acolytes that she had raided the farm with, also traveling with their own masters.

Arriving at the speeder, she opened the door for her mother as the aged witch climbed in then followed her inside and sat down, pulling the door closed. Their driver slowly meandered through the traffic of vehicles and other black-clad practitioners of the Force.

"Do you believe what he said about our victory?" Maelona asked, staring straight ahead.

"I'm not sure I believe anything he said."

"Why not?"

Agata thought for a moment, unsure of how to verbalize her concerns. "He seemed to be blowing a lot of hot air to me. Saying only what most others wanted to hear," blue eyes looked to her mother for some support of her views.

Long dark hair bobbed momentarily. "He's looking for prestige among the leadership which makes for a short life for many under his command. We'll have to be guarded on how he deems to use this army. I'm not a pawn to be used by the likes of some pretender."

"Does he use the Force, mother?"

Dark eyes turned and glared. "You couldn't sense it?"

Agata shook her head, knowing that her abilities still had a long way to go before she would be able to sense potential in some stranger.

"He's no Force user, nor is he confident in our success as he so boldly claimed. Never allow your actions to be governed by an outsider. They were born to serve us."

She nodded. "Why did we come on this mission?"

"To kill Jedi and finally finish the job that Sith failed to do years ago. Why else?" brow narrowed, the contempt made Agata nervous for even asking. "Even though you've been trained and have become part of a secretive Order, that doesn't mean that we can stay blind to the ebbs and flows of the galaxy. If they fall, then in time our own homes are threatened. It's easier to fight in your enemy's front yard instead of your own. Only the aggressive remain."

"Yes, ma'am." The logic certainly made sense.

Soon, they arrived back at the hotel and Agata followed quietly up into their penthouse as the servants had already prepared dinner as they walked in, turning into the dining room whose dim light from a multitude of candles flickered from the high chandelier and points around the room. Two Twi'leks entered with a pitcher and stood by as Maelona sat. Echoing from the living room, the melodium suddenly cut into an announcement.

"By the order of the acting commander of the ground forces, Sith Master Ivon Korentin, because of the terrorist strikes on convoys and bombings in the city, all resident aliens are to be killed immediately." Agata eyed the nervous locals as they all looked to Maelona who glanced up to her apprentice.

"Well."

Without thought, Agata drew her sword and began cutting down the screaming servants, some running into the kitchen as she chased them, blade gleaming in the daylight, then darkening with blood as she finished her gruesome task, then disposed of the bodies. A part of her regretted that she had to kill those who seemed to be truly honest and accomodating but, she also understood the tension amongst the invaders. They had enough to worry about already.

Page 13 - Parting

Slowly rising from the incense holder, thin wisps of smoke filled the air with a fragrant, sweet smell as Agata sat, crosslegged on the large carpet and meditated. Facing the wide transparisteel doors, sunlight spilled through and highlighted her smooth face. Hungrily taking in all she could grab from the Force, energy filled her very being with power. Opening, her blue eyes peered out across the rooftops and long wispy clouds slowly hovering above.

"You know in time you will become a full-fledged witch, taking my place in this galaxy," Maelona's quiet voice cut into the silence from her left. Agata turned to see her master sitting on the long, blue velvet couch and staring into her eyes coldly. She knew that was the normal order of things but, was in no hurry to assume that place. "I won't be giving that mantle to a weak plaything for them to corrupt and manipulate. If you can't fill this role then I won't hesitate to find someone that will."

She nodded.

"What does that mean?"

"I understand, mother."

"Which part," Maelona leaned forward, dark eyes glaring. "That you will try to take it from me one day or that I won't hesitate to kill you if you prove useless to my goals?"

"Both."

The thin line arced upwards into her pale cheek. "Good. I'll hold you to your word. This is the only reason that I've poured so much time and effort into you all these years. You still have a long way to go before any of the sisters will call you their equal but, if you hold to all that you've been taught, you'll take the robes of an elder one day."

Agata spun, facing her master more squarely. "Why are you bringing this up now, master?"

Maelona straightened, then stood. "The Force will free us."

Staring at her master in interest, she watched as the older witch turned and headed towards the front door. "Get our things. It's time that we leave here."

"Yes, ma'am."

Rushing, she gathered their packs and jogged down the long, empty hallway to the turbolift and inside. Oddly quiet, her mother stared ahead as if watching unseen events play out, obscured by sight and thought. Agata remained calm knowing that she would react to whatever needed to be done, still curious about their conversation. A war had been brewing in the galaxy and came to a head when the dark lord announced his intentions on Coruscant, killing many in the senate building. His brazen act sparked battles across their empire and she had no idea of all the politics involved. It really didn't matter.

Opening, the large doors parted to allow the two females to exit and head out to the awaiting speeder, now without a driver. Once Maelona was in, her student hopped into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Humming, she hit the gear into 'D'rive and sped around the circle drive, passing tall manicured trees and flowers to enter the main street. "Where are we headed, mother?" she asked, gazing up into the rear view mirror.

"The starport."

Nodding, she soon realized why as fiery lines creased the blue sky, exploding into buildings around the city. Many ran from their temporary homes, fighting over vehicles while others looked upward to the battle now engaged in the ionosphere. Dodging pedestrian and repulsorlift alike, Agata sped to the wide entrance of the starport, cruising through the narrow, covered tunnel that led to the tarmac beyond, passing the empty security station as shuttles landed. Hitting the brakes at the low wall, she jumped out and grabbed their gear as Maelona calmly strode through the growing crowd towards troops in blue uniforms as they leveled their weapons and began firing into the growing crowd of Sith. Lightsabers erupted, deflecting bolts as chaos ensued around them. Explosions of fire and black smoke engulfed many as others flew backwards and disappeared into their comrades. Agata drew her sword as Maelona grabbed her arm.

"Head to that shuttle, now. Remember all that I've taught you," dark eyes now softened, then glowed with determination as the young face gazed back into her mother's face.

"If you're staying..."

"You'll do what I told you to do! Move!" Maelona stressed as she drew her sword and turned to face another woman in brown robes who strode confidently to them, igniting her lightsaber. Agata stood for what seemed like hours as they began fighting, surprising the young acolyte with the speed of their combat. Sighing, she sprinted to the nearest craft, protected by a flanking unit of troops in blue and black, firing into dark jedi and trainee alike, dropping many as fighters thundered overhead, strafing escaping ships who fired in return. The cacophony of blasterfire, screams of they dying and defiant, she charged the crowd around the awaiting shuttle until an explosion erupted, showering her with debris and remains as she ducked reflexively, then jumped back up and kept running through the thinning smoke until reaching the open rampway. Hitting the button, she ran down the main hallway to the cockpit, passing a fallen pilot until entering the cockpit. In the pilot's seat, a frightened, uniformed man sat, turning to her.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't know what else to do."

Pointing her sword at him, she sat in the copilot seat. "I don't want to hear it. Get us out of here."

Brown eyes just stared dumbly at the point of her sword, tapping his neck.

"Now!"

"Yes, ma'am." Spurred into action, he hit several buttons and drew back on the trio of levers. Rising into the sky, she turned back and down to the growing crowd around the lone figure in black, cutting and blocking as the enemy swarmed the witch. She should've disobeyed and stayed with her, Agata thought as the scene disappeared as the shuttle sped through the combat and out into space where the maelstrom of green and red bolts lit up the darkness of space around them. She sat quietly, sighing and regretting leaving her master alone as moments passed until they soon docked within a large, rectangular hangar alongside three other shuttles. As it set down, she noted groups disembarking and being met by soldiers in chrome-like armor who held their rifles warily. Standing, she grabbed the two large packs and shouldered them as she walked back towards the gangway, hitting the button to lower the ramp as the pilot quietly waited.

Cool air assaulted her face as she walked down the ramp and out towards the growing crowd of displaced and confused masters, dark jedi and their students. Several grouped those wounded and laid them on the cold grey, metal floor as they began diagnosing treatments and wrapped burns.

"Everyone form a line," the metallic, muffled voice stated from their left as she turned to notice the blank, shiny faceplate reflecting the myriad of faces eyeing him. "We need to confirm everyone's identity so be patient."

She watched as they interviewed each new arrival quickly, noting answers in their pocket computers and slowly moved towards them, wondering why they were so curious about their own allies. The guards kept everyone in sight as the sergeant gazed up to a quartet as they stepped up. Suddenly, lightsabers erupted from their hands as the three men and woman began cutting the guards down. Instinctively, she drew her sword and dropped the bags and attacked. Feinting, she blocked the blue blade as it swung backwards. Parrying, she waited for the right moment, then struck stabbing then cutting as she ran passed the first to attack the second. Within moments, all four lay on the hangar floor, victims of the crowd of dark jedi, red blades humming in victory. Turning, she headed back to her gear and gathered it and turned back to a new group of soldiers as the first five were dragged away.

"Who is your master," the sergeant asked.

"Maelona, a Sith witch of the Pachmari," she informed unemotionally, still feeling the adrenaline from her first combat with real jedi and angrily wishing there were more to take out her frustrations on. She waited until he nodded and motioned to his right where another group of acolytes waited. Moving to them, she set her gear down and sat. Drawing out her dagger and mirror, she made her first two marks on her forehead. Lines perpindicular to her nose, she quietly endured the pain as blood flowed down and from the corners of both eyes. Career begun.

Page 14 - The Prisoner

The long dark room full of beds uniformly placed in two rows stood nearly silent, full of the dark side which emanated from the meditation chamber, residue from it's previous and original master. Agata sat in the center of the rounded, blood red symbol, beautifully embossed within the chamber of dark grey metal. Reaching out, she tried to find her mother amidst the chaos around their vessel as the battle raged. Pushing to her own limits, she desperately used her fears to push through the minds and emotions of battle to find a scene that filled her mind with the fight atop the starport roof. Blade reflecting energy, the vibrosword angrily sought it's target as she sent all of her own stores of energy to try and save her master. As the moments passed, she noticed the background fill with Republic troops and jedi and she knew the end was inevitable but, still she tried.

With rage, she felt her mother push her own body to it's limits as she swung and feinted, catching her opponent a time or two with cuts to the arms and abdomen. Tears streamed down Agata's face as she watched, trying to lend the outnumbered witch her own soul if it were possible until the scene darkened with the swing of the blue blade, cutting into her master. Anger quickly melded into rage as Agata screamed, filling the ship with her sorrow, echoing through the long bay and up the turbolift shaft. Bowing her head, she cried.

* * *

A loud knock awoke her to the blackened bedroom, wondering if the annoying interruption was only in her dreams until the rapping resounded again.

Rolling over, she eyed the dimly lit panel. "What?"

"We've captured one of the jedi and thought you might be interested in her interrogation," Tiam informed.

Tiredly, she rose as a smile creased her face and got dressed. Pushing the blue button on the panel, the metal entryway slid to the left, revealing the acolyte who had taken part in the raid on the farm with her. "Where is she," Agata asked as she stepped out and began heading to the turbolift.

"In the medical bay. The other three died in the fighting, but she's more resilient, luckily for us."

"Anyone talk to her yet?"

"No. We figured you'd like to be there when she awoke. Hate to have all the fun alone," he grinned as he pushed the button for the turbolift. They had been given the private bay which resided at the bottom of the ship and had been the quarters of the original captain who obviously was a dark jedi himself.

"What's been going on with the battle," she asked as the thick doors parted and they stepped in.

"The captain's escaped and we found out that our enemy is actually Admiral Tarkin. He's sold us out to the Republic."

Blue eyes turned to him in amazement. "So this whole thing was a trap from the beginning?"

"Looks that way. But, we got to kill a few jedi along the way. This battle has only begun," brown eyes turned back to her as the capsule sped upward. "I'm looking forward to gutting a few more. They don't know what they did now that the whole of the Sith empire is focussed for once, not fighting one another for promotions."

No one felt that eagerness more than her she thought as the doors slid aside to reveal the busy corridor as wounded troops in partial chrome armor sat along the wall or walked by. Turning to the right, she followed the acolyte to finally reach the medical bay. Within, the dead and dying filled the beds and were carried out on repulsorbeds as they meandered through medical droids and attendants to finally reach a smaller surgery room. Within, she noticed other members of the farm raid along with an older, grey haired man in long, white coat as he walked towards the entry.

"Just don't make a mess in here," he motioned towards the floor, thick cigarra between his fingers whose fragrance filled the surgery room. On the bed lay the subject of the exercise as Agata approached the surviving member of the infiltrators. As she walked up to the woman's head, visions of her master's murder returned.

"Anyone talk to her yet," she asked.

"No," Arcadian stated as he studied the bank of sensors behind and to her left. "I'm making sure she doesn't die on us. Not yet at least," he stated while tapping several buttons.

"We gonna carve her up now," the low, hissing voice asked from their smaller companion who admired their prisoner, carressing her arm. "I want first cut," he revealed, smiling evilly.

"Not yet," Agata felt her adrenaline rise as she turned and moved to a tall cabinet and opened it to reveal small vials full of various colored liquid and found what she needed. "She's not going anywhere." Moving towards the left, she began concocting the brew that would keep their subject more 'cooperative' and smiled with each moment, knowing that this jedi would reveal all they needed to know about the betrayal. Soon, she finished and moved to the female with the injector which she placed to the crook of her arm and pushed the button. "Now she'll tell us what we want to know."

"Being a jedi, she's not going to break easily," Arcadian informed. "This is going to take a while."

Agata looked up to him, removing the first vial from the small chrome tool. "I know," she smiled. "But, we need to find out what we can and have a little fun along the way." She turned to Tiam. "Where's the captain taking us now?"

"He said something about going to the Mandalorian system. Apparently they were supposed to join us there and then go with us to Coruscant. Hopefully they haven't betrayed us too."

"We don't need mercenaries," Arcadian's disdain for the warrous race filled the room as he studied the jedi's face for any reaction to the drugs now induced. "We can do this on our own."

"Let me take her arms and legs," the ghoul interrupted. "She doesn't need those to talk."

Agata chuckled. "Maybe if she doesn't cooperate. I have bigger plans for her once we're done."

"Like what," Tiam asked.

Turning, she smiled and replaced the injector onto the counter, then returned to their prisoner's head as she came to. Eyelids fluttered as she squinted in the concentrated light spilling from two large lamps hanging over the bed.

"Good morning," Arcadian smiled mockingly. "Don't worry about fighting it, just tell us what we want to know and then you'll be free."

Agata felt the burst of focussed energy as the jedi tried to fight the drugs that quickly deadened her ability to concentrate, cutting her off from her powers as moments passed. Soon, they all noticed the determination amidst continued failed attempts to regain her composure and strength.

"I'll die first," she pushed out.

Leaning over, Agata placed her hands softly on both cheeks as she whispered in the jedi's ear. "You've been betrayed by your friends. They've left you to your fate, knowing that you had no chance to escape or fulfill your mission. But, it's okay, we're here to help you. I'll take care of you, promise. Just let us know if anyone else was sent with the three others that died earlier."

"No. There is no emotion, there is peace."

"They left you to die. Pushed you into a suicide mission, not caring whether you lived or died. Who would do that? Why? Your fleet left us, ran away and left you to die," she continued her assault as the jedi continued trying to hold on to her training.

"She's not just some acolyte. You know that," Tiam reminded.

"Let me eat one of her arms, that'll convince her," the younger acolyte hissed, wide eyed as he grabbed for the jedi's wrist.

"No." Agata reached and kept the diabolic student from gorging himself on flesh. "She'll tell us everything we need to know, we just have to be patient."

Dejected, the boy's arm retreated as he glared at her as blue eyes returned to her pet project. "She's going to reveal it all."

Page 1

Rumbling down First Street, the delapidated Chevy Nova blared Boston's "More Than A Feeling", in a vain attempt to drown out the pulsating from the overworked exhaust. As it's teenage driver tried his best to remain cool and get to school without being late again, sweat poured down his forehead in nervousness, knowing that his iron chariot badly needed an overhaul. Bondo could only do so much, he thought as the new black Mustang roared by in the cool morning. Lips pursed as he recognized the jock's trademark, another gift from 'daddy'.

Soon, the tall stone building came into view, highlighted in the morning mist with salmon block, tan trim and bordered windows which framed the three-story structure. His father and grandfather both went to the prepatory school here in Vancouver, another badge of the elite in the Canadian city. Ryan hated the prestige that came with the title but, honored that his family wanted the best for him. He only wished that he could live up to their expectations as he steered the ongoing project into the parking lot which bordered the eastern side of the compound replete with large gymnasium, library and soccer fields. Reaching up to turn the key, the engine died in time with the music.

"At least it got you this far, right," the male voice from his right stated, smiling. Ryan turned to look up to his friend's gold colored, metal rimmed glasses and grinned.

"One day you'll allow us to use this heap in auto shop. We might actually be able to save what's left," Ed chuckled as Ryan turned the handle and raised the window. Grabbing his royal blue jacket, he pushed the door open which creaked and groaned in protest. "Are you that against a modern vehicle that you have to insult the creme de la creme with this abomination," his smaller friend mocked.

Ryan sighed as he pulled on his jacket and began walking towards the side entrance, Edward in tow. "Dude, you know she's never going to go out with you in that thing," the sympathetic tone continued as his heart softened.

Brown eyes turned to the more studious appearing companion. "I hope you'll accept my appreciation without the flowery speech for your continuing support."

"You know I'm telling you the truth. She doesn't even know you exist. Accept it. We're meant for bigger and better things, that's all."

Ryan grinned as they continued their journey to the double doors as others slowly filtered inside. "Like Beth Connelly, right?"

"Absolutely. I knew you'd come around, that's the spirit," Ed returned the intentional low blow with an uppercut of his own. "I'll even formalize a more intimate evening with her if you want. I know she's been dying to go out with you for years."

"You'd do that for me, really?"

"No problem."

"You're the greatest, man."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

Ryan playfully punched his friend in the arm, then pulled the door open and climbed into the stepped foyer. Rising to the second set of double doors, he pulled open the rightmost and walked into the busy T-section as students headed towards their lockers or classrooms. He turned left and headed to his own, noticing the driver of the black Mustang, Jerry McKenna, standing with his football friends, other jocks with egos bigger than their personalities or principles. Averting their gaze, he and Ed kept walking as the group talked.

"...So, her mother's actually making her go to the Homecoming with you? That's priceless."

"Yeah," Jerry smiled widely. "And she's going to enjoy herself, mark me. So am I."

Ryan pitied whomever had to endure the egotist's wall of fame which he bragged about to everyone constantly. As he meandered through the traffic, his mind wandered to an adventurous scene as he jousted Jerry, the black knight, and unhorsed the pig into a pile of horse dung. Smiling, he lifted his helmet's visor, turned to the king and bowed stiffly in his shining armor as...

"I'll catch you later, alright," Ed stated as he passed.

"Sure." Ryan turned to his locker and spun the combination amidst the echoing cacophony of voices and shuffling feet until that one voice rose above them all, prompting him to turn to his left and notice her long red hair glistening in the morning light which poured through the upper windows. He felt his heart race at the sight of her smile, green eyes and beautiful, tanned lines. He had been in love with Lana Johnson since the fifth grade without the intimacy or even long walks...anywhere. As she talked with her three friends, closed her locker and turned away, he felt his heart go with her and wished that he could find a way into that circle. Grinning in thanks for that small moment, he returned his attention to his books as he grabbed them and closed the long metal door and headed to class.

After lunch, he hurried to biology knowing that this was the period that he would get to see her for a full hour without interruptions or someone taking her away. Entering the large, desk filled room, he claimed his seat and scanned to notice Lana walk in with her best friend, Sarah Williams. Longingly, he watched her float across the room and claim her seat.

Chuckling from his right interrupted their quiet dinner at the outdoor mall as brown eyes turned to notice Lana's cousin, Lisa, smiling at him. Her light brown hair and blue eyes had caught many guys in school and had shown most a good time, night and day when compared to her fiery haired cousin.

"There's no way you're ever going to get her to go out with you. Know why?"

Ryan straightened, not needing any more negativity beyond his own which plagued him every day.

Lisa leaned forward, displaying her generous wares which peeked from between the tighter, white shirt. "My family would never allow the son of a minister into our circle. Accept it, dreamer. Stick with your own," she smirked as she sat back.

He sighed as he returned his attention to his notebook and opened it to the previous night's homework. One consolation was that Lana was in no way like most of her family, especially the one sitting to his right.

Page 2

Another day down, Ryan led Ed down the stairs to the parking lot, mixing into the sea of other students who were the fortunate and had their own vehicles or had borrowed one to fit in with the upper echelons.

"So," Ed began. "You want me to stick around, just in case?"

"I'll see if there's a problem or not, thanks."

"Why don't you put some of that money for university into getting something else," Arthur stated from his left and behind. Taller, the son of a hotel owner always had the advantage of a limo driver if he wanted it. Trips to McDonald's were always fun - for a while.

"I can't do that," Ryan returned. "We've been saving up for that school for years."

Brown wavy hair nodded in time with the long face. "You know, I heard it from a little bird that your girl is going to the dance."

Ryan stopped as he opened the door. "Really? With who?"

Arthur motioned with his head to the right and the crowd around the black Mustang and Ryan's heart sank. "Not Jerry."

Blue eyes closed as he shrugged.

"That guy's a pig," his anger level rose. "She can't honestly want to go out with him."

"He's from a powerful family," Ed stated. "Why not?"

"She's not like that, that's why."

"Right. Your infinite knowledge of Miss Johnson told you everything there is to know about her mind and thought process. Accept it, they're both from super rich families, it only makes sense."

"You don't know the first thing about her," Ryan plopped into his car, jabbed the keys into the ignition and turned it over. Click, click. Hanging his head, he sat back.

"I'll bring my car over," Ed informed apologetically as Ryan sighed. How could she do this? She never even liked him.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Arthur leaned over the door frame. "You don't even talk to her, man."

Nodding, he looked up. "I know."

Arthur chuckled in pity as Ryan rose, slamming the door behind him. "Why didn't you ask her?"

"Never been into dances really."

"I've got a suit you could borrow, I got a new one. Tricia wouldn't let me go in the other. Come by later and I'll get it out for you."

"We'll see. Thanks."

* * *

Once home, Ryan opened the hood and scanned the wiring which he knew needed to be replaced soon. As his mind pored over the day's revelation, he still couldn't grasp how she was corralled into going to Homecoming.

"How's she look," the mature male voice asked from behind as his father closed the door to the storeroom.

"Died when I got to school," he revealed.

Approaching, the clean shaven, round face smiled as he leaned over the left quarter panel, arms folded as Ryan tested the alternator. "When I get paid, we can get you a new wiring harness. Think it's the battery?"

"No, I just checked it. Could be the solenoid, I just want to check everything else first."

"How'd your day go?"

Ryan acted like he didn't hear the question as his eyes diverted to the small device mounted near the battery.

"That bad, huh? What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied quietly.

"Really? You forget that part of my job is counseling and I think I know my own son," he smiled.

Nodding, he looked to his younger brother still sitting in the driver's seat. "Turn it over," he yelled as the meter leads touched the solenoid. Nothing. "That's it," he proclaimed as he stood. Wrapping the wires around the meter, he turned and placed it on the toolbox, then rummaged for the spare part.

"Donald, why don't you go help mom set the table," the authoritative voice calmly suggested. As the nine year old headed into the house, Ryan ripped the cardboard box open and pulled out the shiny solenoid and approached the car. "Ryan, tell me what happened. Someone give you a hard time about the beast again?"

Grinning, he hated that his dad could always find a way to lighten the mood. "I'd never confuse her for a beast."

"Uh huh. Her name wouldn't happen to be Lana Johnson would it?"

Brown eyes shot to the elder version of himself. "How'd you know that?"

"I actually listen to your mother from time to time, irregardless what your grandmother says," he smiled. "She's been the subject of many of your discussions about girls for many years, unless you've forgotten. Naturally, I don't notice when prayer requests come my way but, when someone frequently asks for the same things for years, that usually means that there's more there than an illness or something. I was once your age, believe it or not and I recognize the symptoms. We've all been there at one point or another."

"Yeah," Ryan's head lowered as fingers fidgeted with the device in his hands. "But, you married your dreamgirl." As emotion welled, he turned back to the task at hand.

"No one can know what tomorrow brings. You know that as well as I and if it's not meant to be, that's okay too. You'll find someone else in time that will take your breath away and make you happy. What is faith?"

Ryan smiled at the usual question risen in this kind of situation. "The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

"Don't worry about it then." His father straightened as Ryan finished wiring the solenoid and mounting it to it's bracket. "Let's see if she works now," he walked to the driver's side door, leaned in and turned the key. Roaring to life, the car announced the successful operation as he chuckled to himself. After dinner, he would go get that suit and attend the dance. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Page 3

Butterflies coursed through his stomach along with the shivers running up his spine as Ryan sang along with Harry Connick, Jr. and kept his spirits up, knowing that he would garner the strength to ask her for at least one dance. Standing before the mirror, his heart leapt with the song as clapping echoed from the doorway. Turning, he noticed Edward and Arthur smiling.

"Bravo, bravo," Ed smiled. "But, I save my final congratulations when and if you actually stay there for more than a half an hour and we've got a hundred dollars that says you don't even say 'hello' to her."

"Actually," Arthur cut in. "It was one word, if I remember correctly."

"Hello is one word."

Ryan grinned wryly. "Where's Tricia?"

"We're going to pick her up on the way, hurry up," Arthur informed, looking at his watch.

"Ed and I supposed to be your body guards or something," Ryan asked, picking up the tailored jacket as he moved to the stereo.

"No, his mature supervision." Ed pushed up his glasses. "Lord know's someone has to do it."

"That's why my driver is with us," Arthur replied. "How's it fit by the way?"

"Fine." Ryan turned and headed to the door. "My aunt took care of it for me," he informed, hitting the light switch as they exited his room. Heading down the stairs, he noticed his parents in the living room with Donald as they watched the news. "See you later," he bid as they headed for the door.

"Hold on," his mother called out as she rose with her camera. "Have to get a few pictures first."

"Mom, come on," Ryan pleaded. "We're going to be late."

"This will only take a minute," she motioned to the trio. "Stand together now."

"Normally, this sort of thing is done with a date," Ed reminded dryly.

"Well, if you insist," Arthur said as he put his arm around the shorter teenager who immediately backed defensively. Ryan grabbed his friend and pulled him into the frame.

"Come on, let's get this over with." A few flashes and she smiled. "See you later," they said in unison as they turned to the door.

"Not too late."

Ryan headed outside and closed the door behind him as the long, sleek limo sat patiently in the drive.

"I'm going to be scarred for the rest of my life," Ed continued. "I can't believe you did that," he glared at their taller companion. "And now Ryan's mom has the evidence that we three went to this senseless gathering without female companionship."

"Relax," Arthur chuckled as the driver opened the door. "She's not going to publish it in the paper tomorrow. Besides, he whole town knows you're still a virgin."

Ryan sat in the long couch across from the self lit bar as the stereo played quietly, nerves doing overtime in the pit of his stomach now that the realization hit him. He sighed quietly and tried to will it away as they headed to Tricia's home and soon to the school. The very thought of his attempt to gain her attention and get her away from Jerry was appearing less likely as they saw the tall, dark building approach. Slowly, the car stopped near the gym's entrance and he was sure he was going to be sick as cool sweat beaded on his forehead. Swallowing, he sighed as the door opened and they filed out into the cool night.

"Thanks," he nodded to the driver who smiled in return as he closed the door. With each step, he neared the door as Arthur opened it for his date and they followed them in as the music echoed through the short foyer and intersecting hallway which led to the locker rooms and bathrooms on the right and into the school to the left.

"You going to make it," Ed asked, gaining his attention.

"Yeah."

"You sure, you're looking like you're about to faint. I knew this was a bad idea," he shook his head as Ryan moved to the doorway and immediately scanned for the redhead he so desired to see.

"You kids don't get lost, alright," Arthur smiled as he led his blonde girlfriend into the decorated gymnasium, romantically lit as brown eyes frantically took in everyone and weeded through them until finding Sarah and Cindy, Lana's friends with their dates as they swirled and danced. That accomplished, he moved towards the line of tables, some occupied with other unattended guests until he noticed Jerry among his friends near the long table supporting the large punch bowl and other desserts. A relief swept over him until he noticed two cups in the jock's hand and expectant green eyes scanned towards his direction. Perhaps she was here after all. He continued scouring the crowd until the chill hit him as the beautiful blue dress passed right by him.

"Well, it would appear that I've won the bet," Ed proclaimed dryly as he sat down at the nearby table. Ryan watched her closely as she tentatively approached her apparent date, hesitating initially until he motioned to her. He had never seen her dressed up before and his heart stopped at the sight.

"I bet you she didn't want to come here with him."

"Right, and what brought you to that brilliant deduction, Watson?"

"You didn't see that. She hesitated as if she was hoping that he wouldn't see her."

"I still have my uncle's number. He's one of the best psychiatrists in town. I can even get you a cut rate."

"So, why did she come with him? Pressure from her friends," he shrugged as she accepted the punch from the grinning socialite bred within the shipping business and other real estate ventures. Ed was right, they were well suited to one another.

"No telling. But, I just wanted to remind you, the clock is ticking, Romeo."

Ryan began to realize and accept everyone's advice as he watched her drink from the cup and stand within his circle. "I'll be right back," he turned and headed into the hallway. Turning left, he headed towards the bathroom to notice several others spiking their drinks from a small bottle.

"Want something to liven the party," the voice asked as he approached the urinal. Turning, he recognized Mark, Lana's older brother with a small bag of pills. Shaking his head, he returned to his business. "Your loss, pal. These things will get anyone laid and word is you could use all the help you can get."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Suit yourself. But, if you go and rat us out, I know plenty of new construction sites that you could disappear in."

Ryan finished and headed to the sink as the others bartered and sold for their temporary fix. His stomach turned in distaste now instead of nervousness. Drying his hands, he headed back towards the door as he tossed the dampened paper into the metal trash bin, then opened the door. How diverse the Johnson family was, he thought as he turned and headed back down the long hallway. Suddenly, he noticed Jerry leading Lana out the front door and wondered why they where leaving so soon. Perhaps she had come to her senses, he thought as he moved to see them disappear into shadow outside and he began to wish that he had driven so he could give her a ride home. At least she would be safer with him. Footsteps approached on the polished concrete floor and he turned to notice Ed, hands in his pockets.

"Well," Ryan grinned in defeat. "I guess you won your money."

Ed nodded sympathetically. "She looked in a hurry to leave," he cut off.

Sighing, he walked back into the gymnasium and took a seat.

Page 4

Walking through the door, Ryan had found solace knowing that he at least gave it a chance and relented to the outcome, reluctantly. Jacket over his shoulder, he walked to the corner of the couch and eyed the television as his mother awoke and turned to him.

"How'd it go," she smiled as she straightened.

"Fine," he nodded. "Everyone else asleep?"

"Yeah. Dad's got a big day tomorrow, we've got the Randolph family coming in from Zimbabwe, remember?"

"Right." He grinned allowing the diversion of his family's life to take center stage. "I'll see you in the morning."

She rose as he turned to walk towards the stairway. "Did you get to dance with anyone?'

"No. Ed and I just enjoyed the music until Art was ready to leave. Good night."

"Good night."

He climbed the stairs tiredly, wishing to repeat the night over again so he would know when to divert her attention and lead her away to a quiet place and talk to her. Just once. Chuckling in disgust, he knew that it was stupid to beat himself up over nothing. His father was right, if it was meant to be, which it obviously wasn't, he would meet someone in university that would make him forget this night or school ever happened. Only if that new life could start tomorrow.

* * *

Cloudy, Monday morning started just like all the others. He wished he could put more money into the rumbling metal encasement around him as it's shaking nearly rattled the speakers from their mounts - the ones that hadn't been already blown. Accompanying him today was Peabo Bryson as he sang, trying to drown out the ambient noise that everyone else arriving in their Rolls Royce's, Mercedes and BMW's lifted their nose in distaste as they passed. At least he didn't defraud anyone to buy this one.

Turning into his usual spot, he turned off the ignition as Ed and Arthur huddled together with three others nearby. They each eyed him as he shoved the door open with a resounding creak and grabbed his coat. After closing it, he pulled on his jacket and approached as they quieted.

"Morning fellas," he greeted. "What's going on?"

Ed shrugged. "Nothing really. How you doing?"

Ryan's brow furrowed as the other trio quickly moved towards the entrance. "Really? Then why the secrecy?"

"Just getting ready for the French quiz this morning," Arthur stated as they turned and headed towards the building. "You're ready right?"

"Sure. French isn't that hard." As they walked, he noticed both his friends being quieter than normal as Ed opened the door for him and stepped aside. Taking the offer, he headed up the stairs and noticed the usual bustle in the hallways before him. Once approaching the healthier athletes, he noted their jocularity as they laughed.

"She got what she deserved," one stated coldly.

"Jerry's got a nice black eye from it too," another added. "She likes it rough, I may have to have Lisa set us up."

Ryan listened and with each step his blood went cold. The morning's mood was now being glossed over with their banter as he feared they were talking about the one he loved.

"Keep walking," Arthur advised as a hand went to Ryan's strong shoulder. "Just ignore them."

Following the advice, he moved beyond the group surrounded by cheerleaders and other fame-seeking people. As he processed the dialogue and his friend's quieter-than-normal behavior, he stopped and turned, putting both in his sights. "What happened?"

Ed backed, holding his bookbag to his chest. "Maybe we should talk later. How about it?"

"No. I want to know what's going on now," he demanded, heated adrenaline pumping through his veins with each passing moment.

Arthur cleared his throat nervously. "Lana's in the hospital," he revealed.

Ryan's heart stopped as tears welled. "What happened?" he repeated quietly.

Blue eyes watched a pair of underclassmen walk by. "I don't know exactly."

Pushing passed them, he returned to the elitist corner and stopped before the goalie who turned to him. "What happened to Lana Johnson?" Ryan felt numb as his vision fogged.

"She couldn't handle Jerry, that's what happened. Asked him to a private sight and when it came to it, couldn't roll with the veteran," he grinned.

Nearly blacking out, he felt himself nearly explode. After a few tense moments, he turned and sprinted down the stairs and to his car. Jumping in, he turned over the ignition, tires squealing as he reversed and hit 'D'rive as the Nova sped towards the hospital. Through morning traffic he flew, weaving in and out until reaching the parking garage which the Chevy flew up into, nearly clipping the thick, cement pillars as he turned and looked for an empty spot which he soon found. Slamming on the brakes, he jumped out and slammed the door to notice the police car, lights ablaze and siren blaring skid to a halt behind his car. Stopping, he realized he probably broke every traffic law in the book as he sobered and squared on the officer who stepped out in a hurry, hand to his pistol.

"Hold it right there, son. Get against the car, hands out."

Ryan sighed as tears streamed down his already wet cheeks. Nodding, he turned and leaned against the roof of his car, arms outstretched.

"You didn't see me chasing you half way across town?"

"No, sir. I didn't. I'm sorry."

Arm across his back, the officer pulled out Ryan's wallet and checked through it. "Give me your hands, one at a time."

Reaching backwards, his head hit the rusty metal as the cuffs gripped his wrist, and was then joined by the second.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

Sobbing, Ryan couldn't answer as he was led to the back seat of the patrol car and guided inside. Emotions overflowed as he leaned forward.

"You realize how many people could've gotten killed with your stunt? I'm going to check your car, alright? Sit tight." As the door closed, Ryan slumped sideways onto the leather seat and wept.

Page 5

Sitting in the white walled cell, Ryan stared at his hands through reddened eyes. He kept replaying the scenario Saturday night, watching her leave with him, knowing that he could've stopped them. Somehow, he could've saved her.

Loud clanking of keys announced the guard as the prisoner didn't even look up until he recognized the black dress shoes. Rising, his eyes looked into his father's as arms wrapped around him and drew him close. "We're going to get you out of here, alright?"

"I'm sorry," was all he could muster as tears resumed.

"Edward told us everything, it's okay. Don't worry about that now. Alright?"

After a few moments, Ryan backed. "I've got to get to the hospital to check on her."

Serious eyes stared back. "Alright," he nodded. "Come on."

Together they rose and headed out into the booking area as fingers tapped keys and other offenders pleaded their case. Through the lobby, he walked out into the waning daylight and looked across the parking lot and tall skyline to see the green rolling mountains beyond and he wished he could escape with her up there somewhere. Take her away from all this.

"Where's mom," he asked.

"At home with Don. You hungry?"

Ryan shook his head. "Not really." Dodging cars, they made it to his white sedan and got in. So many emotions welled at once as nervousness peaked with the realization of the trouble he was in now. "Where's my car?"

"Impounded. We can pick that up in the morning on our way to see the lawyer. I've called Brother Webber and he's agreed to see us. Don't worry, we'll do what we have to."

A long silence was nearly deafening as Ryan glanced to the digital clock above the temperature control. 6:47. Visitation would be over soon but, he would have enough time just to look in on her.

"Does she know how much you care about her?"

Ryan glanced to his father, hospital nearly in sight. "No," he shook his head as brown eyes gravitated back to the tall buildings as they passed by.

"I think you need to get it off your chest. Just be prepared that she may not feel the same."

"I know. All these years have been a silly crush," he blurted without thought. "But this is different."

"How so?"

"Now she just needs a friend."

They turned to the familiar entry that led to the ramp, near the scene of his arrest as they rose into the garage filled with cars until they arrived to the third deck. Pulling into the empty spot, Ryan nearly ran from the car towards the glass-lined hall and doors. Pulling them out of the way, he jogged towards the elevator and hit the 'DOWN' button and waited. Sighing, his father caught up as the doors slid aside revealing her cousin, Lisa and several others. Stunned, he stepped aside as they exited and she eyed him in confusion as they passed. Entering, he pushed the '2' and eagerly waited.

"You know she may not be alone."

Ryan nodded. "I know." He hadn't thought of that but, it didn't matter right now. Soon, the doors slid aside and he moved quickly to the facing desk. "Lana Johnson, please."

Large brown eyes scanned the clipboard and the nurse looked up. "Room Two-Thirteen. Visiting hours are nearly over, you better hurry."

"Thanks," Ryan stated as he scanned and noted the numbers and arrows, following to her room and noting the butterflies emerge within his stomach again. Within each passing room, some lay quietly watching television, others visited with family or friends until he found the open door to the darkened room. He stopped, suddenly blank with what to say or do.

"I'll wait out here," Charles smiled as his father motioned to a small alcove lined with seats and vending machines.

Ryan's legs disappeared and with each moment, he knew that his chance would again pass him by if he didn't act. "Father, give me the strength," he mentally whispered and took his first step, then a second until he found himself approaching the curtain lined bed. A thick white blanket covered her feet and he could hear hushed voices talking beyond. Too far to stop now, he thought as he approached to notice Lana talking to Sarah as they both glanced to him. Thoughts flowed like a tidal wave at the conversations overheard, his thoughts of what occurred and his own regrets as he stood there quietly, eyes glossed.

"Yes," Sarah interrupted as the blonde straightened, wiping her cheeks.

He sighed as he gazed into those green eyes. "I'm sorry," he pushed out as his hand went to his mouth. Sniffing, both girls eyed him in confusion through reddened eyes.

"For what," Sarah asked him. "You weren't there."

"I was at the dance," he nodded. "I should've stopped him..."

Rising, her friend approached, placing her hand on his arm. "She's been through enough today, alright."

Ryan nodded sympathetically. "I know we never met but, if there's anything I can do..."

"Thank you," Sarah continued to push as Ryan relented, the shattered look in that face etched in his mind.

"Alright, I'm going," Ryan moved towards the door and turned as Sarah pulled it closed. "You're going to stay with her?"

Sarah nodded, then pushed it shut.

* * *

The trip home was quiet as Ryan couldn't get the look on her face out of his mind. Chin resting on his fist, he gazed out into the blur of spots of light that broke up the darkness.

"You alright, Ryan?" Charles asked quietly.

"How could someone do that to someone else? What kind of person could do that?"

"Unfortunately, there are many like him. Remain on the solid rock and we can pull those like her to safety."

Page 6

Pulling up into the driveway, Ryan recognized Ed's maroon Lexus against the curb. With all their joint harrassment, his friends were his greatest strength. Stepping out of the car, he walked around into the garage as his father followed.

"I'll pay all the fees and whatever else," Ryan promised.

Charles shook his head. "You're saving that money for school. Had this all been over something else, I'd say yes but, not many people care about a stranger these days."

Ryan smiled in disbelief. "I was the one that nearly caused the accidents."

Serious steel-blue eyes studied him momentarily. "That means working this summer and next."

Nodding, he knew what had to be done. "No problem."

"We'll see," he sighed as a guiding hand led Ryan into the home where his mother prepared dinner. Smells of pot roast and potatoes assaulted his nose as they entered from the utility room. Beyond the distant counter, he noticed Ed and Donald look up from the couch.

Grabbing him up, his mother hugged him tightly. "What in the world were you thinking? I've been so worried."

"Everything's fine," Ryan promised, though he knew that was far from the truth however, the feel of his mother's embrace helped a bit.

She backed, "Why don't you go get cleaned up and dinner should be ready soon," she directed while carressing his cheek.

Ryan nodded as Donald approached their dad. "Did you have to fight off any big guys in the shower?"

"No," he replied flatly.

"Leave your brother alone," Charles directed. "Let him at least get in the house first."

"He's in the house now," innocent brown eyes gazed upward.

Before anyone else asked him about his short tenure, he pushed his way passed and neared Ed who smiled sympathetically.

"Guess you didn't make it to the hospital," he asked.

"Parking lot but, dad and I went to see her after he got me out. She's got her friend staying with her now and we saw her family leaving as we got there."

He nodded. "How's she doing?"

Ryan shrugged, then turned and headed up the stairs. "You staying for dinner?" he asked, gazing underneath the banister.

"Yeah."

* * *

After dinner and a movie, Ryan walked outside with Ed as his friend prepared to leave. Under the spots of light from the tall pole a cat scurried from the fenceline and crossed the street, chasing who knows what.

"I was waiting to see your face in the news this afternoon," Ed mentioned as he rounded the trunk, keys in hand. "Crazed teenager causes casualties in the downtown area," his hand waved through the air as if reading the headline.

"I couldn't think of anything else but getting to her," Ryan grinned.

"Never knew the beast could move that fast, you've proven me wrong yet again. You sure you weren't meant to be an automotive engineer instead?"

Nodding, he chuckled. "No, I don't think so."

Turning, Ed stopped near the driver's door. "You know I'm here for you but, as a friend, I think your efforts in this may never go beyond a smile."

Brown eyes rose from the dark street. "And it would be worth that moment. Sounds crazy, I know but...," he shrugged. "I've never wanted more than the best for her, even if it meant that she would be with someone else."

Ed reached into his pocket, drew out his wallet and produced a card, then handed it to him. Ryan accepted it, "What's this?"

"My uncle's business number. Call before five p.m. His secretary leaves then."

Ryan smiled as his hand dropped. "I don't need a psychiatrist."

"Yes, you do. If anyone would devote so much to someone for so long and only hope for so little, that person needs to be locked up. Trust me. Don't worry, I'd come to visit you each week with another coloring book."

Ryan jabbed his friend softly in the chest as Ed recoiled. "Get out of here, you nut."

"You'd come to thank me in the future."

"Whatever," Ryan laughed as he retreated to the sidewalk. "I'll catch you tomorrow."

"Alright. Oh, by the way, bring a pen."

"Why?"

"All the autographs for people that I've lined up. We've never had many convicts in our class. Twenty bucks a pop, less your ten percent."

"You know, this tire is looking a bit low. Maybe I should take a look at it."

"I'm leaving," Ed stated as he jumped in the seat and closed the door. Ryan watched him drive away and knew that every day from now on would be filled with many things that he wasn't sure that he was ready for. Sometimes life was just that way.

Page 7

As they sat at lunch the next day, Ryan gazed over Arthur's shoulder and noticed Sarah sit with Cindy and Beth, all Lana's inner circle. The large room, busy with talk, popping soda caps, chairs skidding across the polished wooden floor, sunlight poured through high windows that lined the northern wall. Knowing he wanted to ask for an update, he felt the familiar nervousness.

"Hey," Art interrupted, garnering Ryan's attention. "You here?"

"No, sorry. I was just wondering how she's doing, that's all," Ryan revealed as he attended his french fries.

"I heard Jerry was arrested at his house Sunday for rape," Tricia informed as she leaned forward.

Ryan looked up into her hazel-brown eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. Samantha Fredericks said that his father flew off the handle and accused Lana's parents for doctoring the story so they could take over his shipping business. Of course, she always..."

Ryan tuned out the rest as he pushed himself up and without thought, walked through the long aisle to the head of the prohibited table that he had always feared to approach before. Eyes rose to him as he stood there.

"What do you want," Cindy asked.

"I was wondering how she was doing, that's all," he placed to Sarah.

"How do you think she's doing?" Emotion welled in her brown eyes as her brow furrowed. "Just do us all a favor and leave her alone, okay? She doesn't need any more sympathy or empty promises of help, or even phone numbers to the crisis center, psychiatrists or whatever else you had in mind."

"All I wanted to know was how she was doing, that's all," he replied quietly. "Sorry to bother you." He turned and headed back to his table, embarrassed and angry. This wasn't going too well, he thought as he sat back down.

"That was brave of you," Ed commented. "And you returned with all your limbs, good going Doctor Jones."

"Sarah and she are pretty close, aren't they," he eyed Tricia.

"Been together since the first grade and they only live a block from one another so, yeah. I'd say so. Beth Averitt even said she saw them hugging one day," she added, eyeing Ed like a co-conspirator to the secret.

"You never hug a friend," Ryan accused.

"Of course," she shrugged defensively.

"So, that doesn't necessarily mean that they're gay or anything, does it?"

She shrugged and finished her salad.

After lunch, they headed towards their lockers. Ryan opened his as he felt the presence of someone behind him. Half-turning, he recognized the blonde hair and brown eyes. "Hey," he greeted.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Sarah apologized as Cindy and Beth looked on. "All of this has been a bit much for us."

"It's okay. I totally understand," Ryan smiled sympathetically. "Is she still in the hospital?"

Sarah nodded. "Probably will be for another day or so," she informed, then turned and led the duo into the crowd. He wondered what brought her to that point, they had never spoken before and she didn't seem like the type that made friends easily, especially with someone out of the normal loop. He knew that he had to make another attempt to speak to Lana before she was taken home and became out of reach.

* * *

Once the final bell rang, he waited out in the parking lot for his dad as Ed walked up. "Hey, you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. My dad's coming to pick me up. We have to go see the lawyer and I was going to the hospital afterwards."

Ed nodded. "Good luck, then. This lawyer happen to work for her father?"

Ryan shrugged, confusedly.

"You didn't know that her dad owned a law firm?"

"No."

Arms outstretched. "See, all you have to do is ask. Just a wealth of information here but, since you're a friend I won't charge."

"I appreciate that. And, since I'm the one that fixes your car, I won't complain."

Nodding innocently, Ed smiled. "Tell her I said, hello. She'll have no idea who I am but, it's the thought that counts, right?"

"Right. I'll call you when I get home."

"Alright."

* * *

Once they arrived at the large, grey marble building, Ryan looked up into the nearly solid, window covered wall that rose into the air. Nervous again, he headed quietly into the building richly decorated with thick carpet, plant arrangements and brass fixtures. Quietly, he rode the elevator to the third floor as he wondered how long this would take. As the doors opened, he followed his father into the lobby and noticed Brother Webber whom had written many contracts as well as represented several of their members in court over the years.

"Brother Charles, good to see you," the plump, suited man greeted, then looked to Ryan. "Ryan, how you doing?"

"Fine," he nodded. "Just hoping to get all this over with."

Smiling, the rounded cheeks framed the rounded head and short brown hair. "I understand but, don't worry, keep the faith. We'll do what we can, although you may not be able to drive for a while."

"Yeah, the officer that arrested me said that also."

"Come on in my office," he motioned and they followed him through the cubicle filled room to a flanking office. Shelves filled with thick, red bound books overshadowed a small round table stacked with a box full of vanilla files. Taking a seat, he listened to the options and got the court date which made him more nervous. Glancing at the clock on the back wall near the large window, he noticed the time flying in the wrong direction. Soon, they were finished and rose to leave.

"So, I'll see you at the courthouse in a few days, then," Brian extended his hand as Ryan shook it.

"Alright. Thanks again."

"No problem," he shook his head. "You've helped me out in the past, it's my turn."

"Brian, thanks again," Charles shook his hand also as they turned to leave. "See you Sunday."

"Absolutely."

Ryan hurried their return to the elevator as they began talking about the renovation project and began to get impatient, knowing that time was being lost. He sighed as they rambled on until his father noticed his stance.

"But, we need to get going. I'll talk to you later."

"Alright," Brian nodded, then waved to Ryan. "Take care."

"You too," Ryan smiled as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in. Once his father entered and the doors closed, he pushed the '1' button and stepped back.

"You shouldn't be so rude," his father scolded. "He's doing this much cheaper than he should."

"I know. I don't mean to be it's just, I wanted to get to the hospital before it got to be too late."

"I can't keep doing this trip every day, just to let you know."

Ryan nodded. "She's only gonna be there until tomorrow anyway so, this will be my last chance to see her for a while."

"Who told you that?"

"Her friend."

Charles sighed, "I need to check in on Misses Galbraith anyway. We'll not be staying long, though."

"Alright."

* * *

Ryan headed down the long, white hallway, eagerly awaiting to be in the same room with her again. Rehearsing what to say, his eyes widened as her cousin, Lisa stepped out and turned to him as he stopped not a few feet from her.

"What are you doing here," she asked, brow furrowed.

"I came to see how she's doing. You okay?" He noticed her reddened eyes as she looked away.

"Fine." Blue eyes turned back to him. "When are you going to give this up?"

"What?"

"Pursuing a lost cause."

Ryan eyed her quietly. "I'm here as a friend, nothing more."

Page 8

Lisa walked away and he turned to the thick, medium brown door and sighed. Pushing it open, he noticed the television on and the quiet corner beyond the long curtain. Two chairs commanded the far corner facing the foot of her bed as he walked up and glanced up to see the documentary on whales as the unseen commentator spoke about the depths they could swim and for how long. He took a long breath and stepped into the light, then turned to see her laying there alone. Emerald green eyes gazed to him and for a moment he was speechless.

"Hello again," she said quietly.

"Hi," he smiled sympathetically. "I'm not going to ask how you are, Sarah said you've been hit with a barrage of that for the past few days."

"Good."

Without any clever words to rely on, he quickly gazed back up to the program. "You ever get to see them when they swim up near the Bay in the winter?" he asked, turning back to her.

She nodded, hands clasped across her waist. "Once."

"We took a trip two years ago to see a friend building a church in Fair Harbour and I got to see several. I think we even got a few pictures."

"Hmm."

He grinned, knowing this was probably just as uncomfortable for her as well. "Is Sarah here?"

Lana shook her head. "Not yet. Her mother wanted her home for dinner but, she said she'd be here afterwards."

"Good. I would hate for you to be here alone."

She studied him quietly and he would give anything to know what she was thinking.

"Has she been bringing you your assignments?"

"Yes," her eyes motioned to the dark blue bookbag on the nearby chair to her right.

"Need help with anything? I'm pretty good with physics and geology."

"I got it, thanks."

He nodded, hands nervously going into his pockets. "Professor Wallace usually enjoys hearing himself talk so, that gives you plenty of time to get the homework done in his class. I normally don't even have to take any books home."

For the first time, he noticed her crack a smile and it nearly brought tears to his eyes. "I take it you already knew that."

She nodded. "He's not the only pompus windbag in that school."

"My friend Ed thinks that's one of the prerequisites to being hired there."

Her smile widened which nearly gave him wings and he could swear he was floating. Prompting a smile of his own, their unspoken words began to soften her features. "Are you ever going to tell me your name," she asked.

"Sorry. Ryan Simmons."

She nodded. "I knew who you were, we've just never hung out or anything."

His mouth fell open. "You did?"

"We've been in the same class since fifth grade, how could I not?"

Ryan shrugged. "Just never thought you did, that's all. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks. I'm not an invalid."

"I know, it's just..."

"Thanks, Ryan." She pushed herself up and faced him more directly while pulling up the thick, white blanket that he was sure wasn't issued by the hospital. She sighed and he realized that he was probably hitting a nerve that she was trying to deal with since that night.

"Well, if you do, just ask. Alright?"

She nodded as her face rose, eyes glistening in the dim light.

"You know, if you'd rather be alone, I'd understand."

Swallowing her tears, she shook her head. "No, that's okay." Reaching for some tissue from the nearly empty box, she wiped her nose and looked back to him. "I heard you nearly got yourself killed yesterday."

He grinned sheepishly as he looked away. "Yeah. You know the crazy thing, I didn't even see the cop until he rolled up behind me in the parking garage and went for his gun. I've never been that scared in my life."

"What were you doing?"

Brown eyes gravitated back to her as he smiled. "I heard someone had been hurt...," he swallowed hard as he couldn't finish the sentence. Sarah was right, she had been through enough for the month, perhaps longer, he thought as he looked back to the television. Clicking, the door opened and he turned to notice Lisa and Sarah enter together. He grinned as he squared to them and backed.

"We got it from here," Lisa stated as Sarah moved around the bed and sat next to Lana, picking up the bag and setting it in her own lap.

Ryan nodded and turned back to Lana. "I'll see you later, then."

She eyed him for a moment, then nodded. Under the scrutiny of two more females, he retreated back out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He had accomplished this much, he thought. It had been worth the wait just getting the chance to talk to her and letting her know that he cared. Walking back towards the elevator, he noticed his father approaching from the opposite direction.

"How is she," Ryan asked.

"Fine. Stubborn as ever." Steel-blue eyes motioned behind him. "How's she?"

Ryan nodded. "Okay. This is going to take a while I think but, she has good friends with her now."

"Good to hear. Did you get to talk to her?"

Grinning, he nodded as they entered the elevator.

Page 9

Out on the back porch, Ryan sat on the lawn chair as Arthur dealt the cards to he and Edward. Another week down, he thought as the cool night breeze wafted over the tiled flooring and across the modest pool.

"So," Ed began. "You two ready to hand me all your chips? No offense but, poker is my game."

"That's why you've lost every time we've played," Arthur jabbed as he tossed Ryan his last card.

"Just warming you both up for the takedown, that's all," his brown eyes peered over the fanned cards before his face at each of them in turn.

"How kind of you," Ryan smiled.

"That's the kind of guy I am, what can I say?" he shrugged as he took a sip of his Pepsi.

Arthur leaned across the table, glaring. "So Minnesota Fats, you in or not?"

"Absolutely," Ed returned as he tossed in two white chips. "So, Ryan, I guess you're happy."

"Why," he asked as he pitched his own.

"Word has it that Lana will be back to school Monday. You mean you didn't know?"

"I haven't had the chance to talk to Sarah since Tuesday at the hospital."

Arthur dropped his chips. "I also heard that her brother may have been the one that sold Jerry the sedative."

"He couldn't have known what he was going to do with it," Ed stated. "Mark may be a dirtbag but, he sticks up for her all the time."

"They all do," Ryan added.

"There's no way he would've gotten to first base another way," Arthur added. "She's been studying gung fu under her neighbor since she was a kid. It's amazing she didn't kill him when she woke up."

Ryan began seeing the picture of the encounter in his mind again, emotions slowly boiling. "Let's not talk about that any more, alright?"

"Sorry, man," Arthur glanced to him apologetically. "I can't imagine what I'd do if someone did that to Tricia. Especially him."

"End of conversation means not to continue," Ed chastised.

* * *

As Ed stopped his Lexus in the parking lot, Ryan noticed the black limo pulling up in front of the steps at the front of the building. Opening the door, he stood, jacket in hand and noticed the driver soon open the door and allow Lana to exit along with both brothers in tow. They headed up the stairs and Ryan wondered if she knew that the one partly responsible was right behind her. Possibly. He knew how rumors got started and how convoluted they became as time went on. It would only be more convenient for the most well known dealer to be the one Jerry bought it from, and how much intrigue could be drummed up in this circle of drama.

"Your welcome," Ed interrupted as he approached the hood of the car.

"Sorry," Ryan closed the door and pulled on his jacket. "I was just wondering if it was true about Mark. I saw him in the bathroom that night selling all sorts of things."

"He's been in the business for the past two years. How do you think he bought that Rolex?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, "I just can't believe that someone like her is surrounded by people like that. In her own family no less."

Ed placed a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to the twentieth century, friend. No one is safe from corruption, what fun would that be? I'm sure your buddies in C block can relate, right?"

Ryan pushed him away playfully as they approached the double doors, nearly shoving him into three girls who glared disapprovingly. Reeling, the smaller student pointed defensively at Ryan as he retreated.

"You need to watch where you're going," Ryan smiled and opened the door for the trio who walked passed without saying a word.

"I had a bit of assistance, thank you."

"No problem." As they ascended the stairs, he softened knowing that things may get back to normal now that she was back to a schedule. Surrounded by her wall of friends and family, he may not have many opportunities to speak to her. But, at least she knew he existed now and that was enough.

"When's your court date," Ed asked as they coursed through the hallway.

"On the twentieth." He glanced to the high browed corner and noticed they were a bit quieter this morning without their spokesman who was sitting in jail.

"You really should lose your fascination with them," his friend chided as brown eyes gazed back to his left. "They're all below you, whether they choose to believe that or not."

"What makes you say that?"

"Let's go down the list, they have no morals, little in the way of principles and they don't have the favor of the valedictorian now. I gave her the position as my application to Harvard has already been accepted."

"Lana has great grades but, I doubt she's that worried about giving the speech next year. We're only juniors, Harvard wouldn't even be looking at you yet."

"I have an in-road, pal. If you want in, the window's closing fast."

"I'll pass," he smiled, knowing his friend had trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy sometimes. "You're a trip, you know that."

Ed chuckled. "I'll catch you at lunch."

"See ya," he bid as he turned in to his locker and spun the combination. Shadow from the partially blocked sunlight suddenly gave him that familiar feeling of proximity, prompting him to turn and notice Lana grinning at him, both brothers behind her. "Hello there. Glad to see you out."

She nodded. "I just wanted to thank you for the flowers and the visit."

"Of course," he shrugged. "Ready to get back to it?" he motioned to the building around them.

"I guess we'll find out," smiling, she turned and continued on to her locker as Mark glared at him momentarily, then approached.

"Keep your distance, punk. She's worth better so, give it up."

"I couldn't agree more, she is worth better," Ryan returned the serious glare and kept it until the dark haired dealer grinned and drifted into the traffic. Nervous adrenaline pumped as he realized how close he was to death, turned and grabbed his books, then headed to French.

* * *

As the lunch bell rang, he headed through the throng racing to get a seat. Knowing his was usually safe, he headed to the bathroom instead. Walking around the corner, he noticed Mark and his trio of friends in the corner near the high window. Averting their gaze, he stepped into the nearest stall, pushing the door to as he turned. Suddenly, the door burst open as he was pushed forward into the toilet. Hits to his back and sides, prompted him to curl defensively as the assault continued. Arms up, he tried to fend off the blows as best as he could until a foot stepped on his elbow, pinning it to the floor. Mark crouched onto his midsection, strong hand to Ryan's throat.

"You spread any more rumors about me and I'll kill you, understand?"

"What are you talking about," Ryan, frantic for air and his life.

"Don't give me that s**t, I know it was you. This is just a warning," Mark stated, drew back and punched him in the face, then retreated with his crew as Ryan rolled over, allowing the cool tile floor to calm the swelling as his whole body screamed in pain. Panting, he couldn't believe what had just happened as they laughed and headed out into the hallway, leaving him to his shame. Aching, he pushed himself up to kneel as piercing in his ribs announced itself. He breathed shallow as he gingerly rubbed his sides, hoping that nothing was broken. Anger, fear, anguish, and desperation fought and swirled in his mind as he knew that seeking revenge was not how his father would react. He was in enough trouble already. As tears streamed, he leaned on the toilet seat and stood, turned and headed to the sink as the door reopened allowing two other students in as they walked by and headed to the urinals. Turning on the faucet, he washed his face from blood and sweat, coursing his fingers through his hair as frustration continued from the encounter. Sighing, he twisted the knob and rose, noticing for the first time his bruised face in the mirror.

"Dude, what happened to you," one of the other occupants asked as they turned to him.

Ryan turned and eyed both for a moment. "Tripped in the stall," he said quietly, turned and headed to the paper dispenser and dried his face, still aching. Once done, he headed out into the now empty hall, reflecting sunlight from the distant doors at the opposite end. Glancing right, he noticed the lunch room door and heard the voices and normal cacophony within. Taking a deep breath, he walked to it and pulled it open. Walking to the line, he ignored the stares until Misses Turner approached.

"Who did this?" she inquired.

"I tripped in the bathroom stall. I'm fine," he returned.

Studying him as he grabbed a set of silverware, she sighed. "I think you should go see the nurse."

He nodded. "I will." As she walked away, he glanced to notice Lana and her friends eyeing him and he grinned as he scanned for her brother and his entourage. Not here as usual. He turned back and soon received his food, then carried the tray to his table where all eyed him in shock.

"What was the license number," Ed asked.

Ryan chuckled, paying for it as he held his left side, bringing tears to his eyes. He noticed Arthur's anger welling up and straightened. "It's fine."

"No, it isn't fine. Who did this?" Arthur's temper was well known in the wrestling circle and Ryan knew he didn't want to get anyone else involved.

Shaking his head, he commenced eating.

"Tell me or I'll beat it out of you," Arthur leaned over, glaring at him.

"He's already been through that part, Igor," Ed defended.

"Shut up, squirt. I wasn't talking to you." Blue eyes glanced back to Ryan. "We've all been friends for a long time and you've never tried to take on a problem alone, why now?"

Returning the gaze, he noticed Lana rise with her friends and head to the collection window for their trays. "This one's a bit more complicated. I'm fine."

Arthur turned and followed his eyes, then looked back. "Mark? You're serious? Why?"

Ryan straightened. "Let it go." He continued eating and soon noticed the quartet approach, heading to the door and suddenly, Lana turned and rounded the table to stop to his right.

"You okay," she asked.

He looked up. "I'll be fine," he nodded, noticing Sarah eye him also.

Lana nodded. "You may want to go get that checked out, make sure nothing's broken."

"I will."

She grinned sympathetically, turned and continued out.

"An enchanted moment," Ed added as Ryan finished eating. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it? The wounded hero facing death and smiling."

Ryan recounted his state after the assault. "Not really."

Page 10

He lay on the bed within the quiet, dorm-like room with four beds and desk as the nurse jotted down several notes. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered how far he could get if he told someone about what was going on. Lana needed to know the truth, but how could he tell her without Mark killing them both? He was insane and violent. Not only him but his crew as well. All had profited from their underground trade for some time under the noses of many but, he knew that those types always got what they deserved, sooner or later. Forgive and forget was never an easy concept to grasp however.

Footsteps approached as the nurse looked down at him. "Well, nothing's broken but, the dean wishes to see you when we're done here."

"Okay," he replied quietly, knowing what that meant.

"I'm going to send you home when he's done with you, you're father is on his way and should be here within the hour."

Ryan nodded, then pushed himself up, wincing as muscles cried out. He certainly didn't want to have to experience this again anytime soon. Rising, he walked to the door and headed out into the office. Phones rang as assistants and the secretary went about their day and glanced to the bruised and beaten teenager as he crossed through the desk filled room to the dean's office door and knocked.

"Come on in."

Opening it, he entered the richly furnished room full of shelves packed with books and trophies facing the large mahogany desk that commanded the center of the office. Tall windows flanked by maroon curtains allowed golden light to highlight the thick carpet as the dean motioned to the chair before his desk.

"Have a seat, Mister Simmons."

"Thank you, sir." Ryan sat, nursing his ribs and looked into the mature officer of the school eyeing him from behind silver rimmed glasses. Clean shaven, his neatly combed, greying brown hair told of a politician who hosted many dinners and other sponsored gatherings for the prestigious institution.

"The nurse notified me of your visit and stated that you've had an interesting afternoon. Care to tell me who else was involved in the altercation?"

"No, sir," brown eyes fell to the top of laquered desk and it's many accents bordering the front edges.

"Care to explain why? You realize that fighting here can lead beyond suspension. We frown on such behavior here and in light of your recent arrest, it wouldn't bode well for your continued attendance here." He leaned on the desk, arms crossed before him. "Were you the initiator of this incident?"

"No, sir."

"Then I insist you tell me who was or you'll leave me with little choice but to suspend you."

Ryan looked up, knowing that another black mark on his record would only hurt him in the long run, especially when he wasn't at fault in the first place. "It was just a misunderstanding, that's all. I was in the stall and someone tripped into the door, knocking me into the toilet and down on the floor. That's all."

Sitting back, the dark eyes studied him for a moment. "Your father is a minister, is he not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I'm sure that he's taught you the Ten Commandments?"

Ryan knew immediately where this was going. "Yes, sir. I know what you're getting at but, I assure you, this wasn't an attack, just an accident."

"I'm not that ignorant of pugilist's wounds, son. You've suffered quite a bit for an accident unless you're suggesting that a crowd fell into that door and stampeded over you as they got up."

Ryan grinned. Interesting theory.

"Why are you protecting a criminal responsible for what's happened?"

Those words struck a chord as Ryan eyed his judge. He knew that's exactly what his family would ask. "Mark Johnson, sir," threats be damned.

Eyes widened. "I see. Thank you. You may go."

Rising, he turned and headed to the door, knowing that he should start writing his will soon. He had Brother Webber's number. Outside, he noticed his father approach the main door from the hallway. As their eyes met, his father straightened in shock.

"I'll explain on the way," Ryan said as he led back out into the corridor.

* * *

The hot bath felt heavenly as he dried off and got dressed. Both sides of his torso were darkened and he realized how lucky he was that nothing had been broken. Opening the door, he allowed the steam to escape and headed downstairs where he noticed his father in the kitchen.

"Thirsty," he asked as he poured himself a glass of water.

"No, thanks."

"So," Charles began as he returned the pitcher into the refrigerator. "Jealous boyfriend?"

"She doesn't have a boyfriend," he informed as he leaned against the counter and watched his father sip from the glass, then lower it again.

"That leaves an over-protective friend," he posed as more of another question.

Ryan smiled as he moved towards the living room. He had already told the dean, what harm would it do now? "Her brother." He plopped onto the thickly padded couch and watched as his counselor sat in the bordering chair and place his glass on the end table.

"Worse. Why did he attack you?"

"He said that he thought I was circulating a rumor that he supplied the drugs that Jerry used on her. I saw him in the bathroom that night selling and he even offered me some. I guess it would only make sense that I would be the number one suspect."

Eyeing the coffee table quietly, the minister mused for a moment. "It would be damning if he did and she found out. Even so, a drug dealer doesn't belong in a school."

"Even one whose family owns half the town? The dean didn't seem too eager to expel Mark for the fight. I doubt he'll even be notified, their grandfather supports the school pretty heavily."

Charles grinned in disgust, shaking his head. "You think we should pull you out and go to another school?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere," Ryan stated emphatically. "What is faith?"

Smiling from the elder made Ryan realize he had learned that one finally. Hopefully it held up in the coming days.

Page 11

Placing his plate into the dishwasher, Ryan heard the doorbell ring. Straightening, he moved to the door as his mother opened it to reveal Ed, his chauffeur until he got his license back.

"Good morning, Edward," she greeted as Ryan approached.

"Morning, ma'am," he smiled. "Ryan, you ready?"

"Yeah," he grinned, jacket hanging around his left arm as he moved passed his mother. "Have a nice day, mom."

"You too. See you when we get home."

Into the brisk morning, he could smell the salt in the air as the prevailing winds came from the west from the bay. Low hanging clouds drifted over the mountains as they walked to the Lexus.

"You didn't tell them that I did this, hopefully. I'd have to give you another walloping," Ed jabbed.

"No. I kept your name out of it like I promised."

"Good. That's good to hear 'cause the pipe's in the trunk."

Ryan smiled as he opened the passenger door and got in, nursing his still-sore body as the driver hopped in beside him.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Ed asked as he jabbed the key into the ignition.

"Yeah," he nodded as he closed the door and winced as he grabbed the seatbelt. Ed shook his head as Ryan glanced over to his friend as they backed into the street. "Let's hear it."

"I just don't think she's worth all this, man. Sometimes you have to cut your losses and walk away."

Brown eyes turned and watched the road as they moved through the nice neighborhood. "That's just it, some things are worth...everything. Even a life if necessary." He felt his heart pumping harder as these things had been on his mind for many years. "Haven't you ever felt that way about someone? Someone that made you fly, wishing you could take them with you. Your heart ever ache for just a smile or a look? Things that make life worth all the other crap you have to endure, day in and day out."

Ed stared for a long moment. "That was beautiful. I wish I had recorded that for your tombstone when Mark buries you."

Ryan huffed, emotion welling uncontrollably. "I'm being serious. Why can't you be for once?" he asked quietly. He sighed as they continued on, listening to the radio as several songs lightened the mood on their way to school. As they entered the parking lot, Ed turned off the ignition and sat back and Ryan stared at him for a moment, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"I have," the smaller math major revealed. "A long time ago. Don't you know the old saying, "Those who laugh the hardest are hiding the deepest pains"," he said, pushed the door open and stepped out.

Ryan pushed himself out and eyed his friend. "That's not always true, you know."

"Why not? How else do people cover up stress?"

"Many ways. Alcohol, drugs, violence - the list goes on. I've seen most come through church and heard their testimonies." He closed the door and moved around the car as Ed approached. "I guess one way is to always joke around and never be serious. People are all different."

"I still think you've signed your death warrant by continuing this fruitless crusade for her hand. But, that's just me."

"I've always listened to your advice, when I knew you weren't joking around. And I appreciate it."

* * *

Returning to his locker before lunch, Ryan opened the metal door and noticed the folded piece of paper fall to the floor. Bending down at the knees, he picked it up and rose, still sore as he blew a loud expulsion of air. Opening it, he read the short note: 'Meet me by the front steps for lunch'. He hoped that this wasn't the final showdown but, if it was, he would face it. Returning his books into the darkened interior, he closed it and moved towards the front entrance. Each step made him more resilient that this could be it. He was warned that any further problems would result in a rather final conclusion. As he pushed the door open, he scanned beyond the large spruce trees only seeing others heading out to lunch or to work. Perhaps they were hiding within the foliage he thought as he descended the stairs to finally see the sunlight shining on her red hair to his right. Stopping, he grinned, then scanned to his left waiting for the ambush that didn't come.

"I'm alone," she stated as Lana stepped up and leaned on the tall, stone column shaped in a formidable square.

"What's going on?" He continued his descent to come within a few feet of her.

"I heard what happened yesterday. Why did he hit you?"

Ryan nervously placed his hands in his pockets. How was he to answer that one without causing her more pain? "You said you heard, what did you hear?"

"Mark stated that you wouldn't be bothering me anymore and when I saw you, I was able to put two and two together. There's more to it, isn't there?"

"Lana... this whole thing has gotten blown out so much and the problem is, no one is telling the truth about what happened. I can't prove anything about Mark but, I do know that Jerry planned...," he cut off as the mention of that name made him more angry.

"I know," her eyes lowered. "The doctors found it in my system," she explained as tears welled. "My mother made me go to that stupid dance with that bastard," she informed as tears rolled down her cheeks and he wanted to hold her and take the pain away. "Now she blames me for what happened." Glowing with anger, she wiped her face, turning to him. "You believe that? I'm at fault!" Shaking her head, Ryan couldn't believe his ears.

"Why?"

"She and his mom are best friends and I've always been the black sheep of the family," shaking her head in disgust. "Straight A's, no vices and I'm the whore," she cut off amidst sobs.

Without thinking, Ryan wrapped his arms around her as she cried and he felt his heart melt along with her. Tears flowed freely as he held her tightly. Oddly, his sore muscles didn't hurt any more as she rested on his shoulder. He prayed that he could think of some way to help as others passed by on their way out to the circle drive and he ignored them all. Soon, she sniffed and straightened to rest her cheek against his.

"I'm sorry that my brother is the way he is," she whispered. "He and Mike used to be good people that I looked up to. But, that was a long time ago."

"Their faults are not yours. Everyone chooses their own life and you've chosen the right one, no matter what anyone else thinks. You'll be the one sitting in the large office while they're in rehab or prison and they'll be admiring you. I promise you that."

Suddenly, she backed from him and he reclaimed his arms from around her. He noticed her eyes as he turned to see Mark glaring at him from the stairs.

"You just can't follow simple instructions, can you?" he spat as Ryan backed to square on the more muscular threat. "I told you to stay away from her, didn't I?"

Lana stepped between them, fists clenched. "Leave him alone. I called him out here to talk."

"This is between him and me, Lana. Go back inside with your friends, this won't take long."

"Right. Not any more, you touch him and I'll kick your ass, hear me?"

Mark grinned at her as he descended the last two steps. "Since when? Lana, get back inside, I'm not going to tell you again."

"Why? None of your friends here to back you up?" She leaned into his vision. "Like I said, you touch him again and I burn your drug stash and your black book and I tell grandpa everything."

A comment that caught his attention as his blue eyes glared at her. "You think they'll care? Has anyone listened to you since the summer anyway? Please, be real. How many words has dad said to you since you went and got religion? Mom sent you out to that dance to finally get that pole out of your ass."

Ryan lunged and punched him squarely as Lana blasted the same target with several blows that made Ryan stop in amazement. They both stood over him as he slipped onto the concrete, unconscious.

"I've always wanted to do that," Lana stated.

"So have I," he stated, feeling the adrenaline rush still coursing through his veins, desiring another target for his rage.

"Thank you by the way," she said, eyeing him as he came down from the rush.

"For what?"

"Being here. Being there when I needed someone else to talk to about whales," she smiled.

He grinned. "Anytime."

Page 2

"Take us through our preflight," Kavan ordered as Jocon moved passed him.

"Yes, My Lord," the human replied.

Orange eyes watched as the troop of witches in maroon robes carried his newest property through the gangway and followed his left finger as he pointed towards the medbay. Glowpanels from the walls and uniformly placed along the ceiling highlighted the clean, medium grey plating, rounded table that made up the small galley and framed on the far end by the autochef and long counter.
Once they made their delivery, he ensured they all exited back the way they came, then nonchalantly tapped the CLOSE button for the main entry. Boots echoed off of the metal flooring as he made his way to the cockpit, as Jocon finished up the preflight, and sat within the pilot seat. As his piercing eyes glanced to the large, high ceilinged hangar, the ship peeled from the Order's palace on Sindabur.

"Plot for Khanfu," Kavan instructed.

Jocon leaned over and his tanned fingers tapped on the navicomputer, knuckles beaten up by his intense training for the past seven years, and soon straightened as he nodded to his master. "Done."

Pinpricks of light elongated and Kavan pushed himself up out of the highbacked, tan leather seat. Time to learn his new weapon's capabilities, he surmised. Jocon's quiet steps behind, his mind recounted the plan that he had formulated for this mission. Jedi had been rebuilding this sector with the help of the Alliance and other investors for the past twenty years and had been hunting down Imperial Liberation Front operatives and cells with impunity. Some had said the operation against the previous rulers of the galaxy had been going too well.
Kavan didn't care, it only meant that he had troops to use for his own goals. Leaders of the ILF needed assistance and a reason to continue fighting and he was going to bring that to them. Strength and his training with the Force would be the gleaming example these fighters needed.

Once passing through the galley, Kavan led Jocon to the right and through the entryway to the medbay. The closer confines lined with storage cabinets along the left and lab station to the immediate right, he glanced to the centerpiece. Reclined on the padded bed which he had spent more than a few moments on himself, he noted the simply clad female. Still asleep, he wondered how long her condition would continue as he approached and placed his hands on the plastisteel framing along the thick padding.
Even without concentrating on her mind, Kavan could feel her power and felt excited adrenaline rush through him.

"She's more powerful than I imagined she'd be," Jocon interrupted the silence from the foot of the bed. "Can't wait to see what she's capable of."

"She's a means to an end. As soon as I'm done with her, she'll pass from memory," orange eyes turned and glared at the younger acolyte. "I'm the reason for this campaign. Jedi of this sector will fall at my feet and beg for mercy, or die. It's that simple."

Jocon nodded respectfully. "Of course, Milord. It will be a glorious day, indeed." The bald head sported intricate red tattoos and reflected the Sith who had learned his own talents in the secret base hidden in this sector, then found by Kavan during an arena match. He was one of the few that were worth a moment of consideration. Being four inches shorter, the trainee was always smaller in many ways to his master.

Kavan glanced back down to the smooth, golden face and hair of fire. "Her likeness could almost make a nice new heraldry for me also," he mused.

"How should we wake her," Jocon inquired.

"I'll do that when we arrive, then instruct her on what she needs to do. For now, it's alright for her to be asleep." In the Force, he felt a slight resistance rise in the subject and mentally touched the female alien. Suddenly, he felt himself entrapped by the brilliance which immediately empowered his own defenses. Back and forth they went for what seemed like hours, until he found a crease and pushed himself out, back into reality.
Kavan stumbled backwards, eyes widened in surprise and anger.

"My lord," Jocon stepped to him concernedly.

Brow furrowed in rage, Kavan's sneer was obvious, which soon melted to amusement. Suddenly, he burst into laughter. "This is going to be fun."

* * *

Jocon watched his master leave the medbay. As the thin door slid shut, he returned his attention to the female in brown leather jacket, tan pants and high leather boots. The dark green veil seemed to be of silk and he felt himself curious which prompted him to approach her right side to study it closer. Embroidered in the cloth over her mouth, cheeks and nose, he noted an intricate design in the same color thread as the cover itself.
He would use this woman, but perhaps differently than his master. She was definitely a weapon, but he saw much more than that. Glowing, the golden aura about her was intense and he could only guess at her origins. They never bothered being specific as to where they would gather their weapon, but the witches seemed to be more knowledgeable at finding things in the ethereal, as they called it. The Force sparked so many other avenues for power than he realized.

This one was obviously not a Sith.

Crackling to life, the intercom interrupted his musings. "Jocon, we arrive in six hours, I suggest you ready yourself. I shouldn't have to tell you that."

"Yes, sir." Turning, he found himself nearly infatuated with her as well, but she wouldn't be with them long enough to worry about any relationship. Might as well get to work, he thought and left the medbay, then headed to the meditation chamber. Kavan would not survive this campaign though, and he needed to begin preparing for his own career. Jedi weren't as helpless as he made it seem nor would the ILF troops and small navy be able to make up the difference. Stranger things had happened, however.

Time would tell.

Page 1

Within the quiet, blackness of space between the third and fourth planets, asteroids and meteorites cruised towards the star commanding the center of the system. Some nearly collided with the blue planet as it and it's moon revolved on a never-ending path around the sun which kept it's inhabitants alive.
Suddenly, a flash of sublight engines, some larger than the asteroids, cut out as the immense, elongated vessel headed towards the third planet. Bent from the weight it was anchored to, the bridge, perpindicular to the wide body, anged forward and was totally oblivious to the impending danger. Now in the path of a large asteroid the collision was inevitable - and devastating.

Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. 05:27am. MST

Sitting at his station, the sergeant daydreamed as he sat staring at the usual scopes on the long bank of computers that he and ten others monitored on their normal shift. Suddenly, a flash caught his attention which prompted him to lean forward. Blue and green light reflected from his younger face in the dimly lit room. Reaching up to the dials and switches beside the monitor, he focused the event as it quickly faded.

"Lieutenant," he spoke into the mic hanging from his ear. "I've got something that you need to see."

"I'll be right there," the prompt reply. As the Air Force operator watched, the receiving sensors noted the growing debris field that was quickly expanding as seconds ticked by.

Footsteps approached as the tall, lanky officer leaned over, shadowing the sparse light from the far wall behind them. "What've you got?"

Brian pointed to the small, highlighted objects on his screen, some larger than others. "Something just exploded in deep space. The MSX picked it up beyond the horizon," he explained of the low-orbit satellite.

"Alright. Keep an eye on it," he stated, then walked to another station farther to the left as the sergeant, now fully awake, kept his eyes peeled to the screen and studied the abnormal shapes that tumbled through space until the rounded horizon of the earth blocked them out.

Houston, Texas. 06:33am. CST

Jogging up to the main briefing room, Sam McKinnon's excited, middle-aged face peered into the gathering of engineers through the glass door as he stopped, panting. Raising his right hand, he waved and tried to gain the director's attention. Soon, the greying head turned as blue eyes rose from the branch head sitting to his immediate left. Straightening, his brow furrowed and Sam opened the door.

"My apologies," he stated as discussions stopped and he made his way to the older scientist and director of NASA. "Sir, you have an urgent call from Colorado."

"Alright, excuse me," Randall stated as he pushed himself up from his chair and headed into the hallway, Sam in tow. "What's this about?"

"NORAD discovered an explosion in space from their MSX. We've called for independent confirmation but haven't gotten anything back yet."

Randall nodded, then turned. "You need to get more exercise," he grinned, then walked into his large office.

"Yes, sir." He waited and listened.

"Good morning, Colonel. What can we do for you?" He stood, left hand on his hip. "Right...Okay. We'll look into it." He returned the phone to the black, plastic station then looked up. "Sam, we need to wake some people up."

"Right away."

Washington, D.C. 10:03am. EST

Finely dressed, Priscilla Cartwright rose from her chair and entered the Oval Office as the president sat at his desk, reading over another brief from the Director of National Intelligence. "Mister President, you have a call on line seven from the director of NASA."

"Thank you," he stated, then pushed the blinking, yellow light on the phone and picked it up. "Randall, how are things?"

"Rather exciting, Mister President. NORAD discovered an explosion in space an hour-and-a-half ago. Preliminary reports state that it's not one of our probes and way too big. We think that it was a ship of some kind. I'm sending you pictures of what we've found and I have to say that there's a threat that some of the pieces will enter our atmosphere within the next thiry-six hours."

"Did you say, a 'ship'?"

"Yes, sir. The debris field is made up of wreckage instead of rock. SETI also recorded the event. The press will soon be getting ahold of this, what should I tell them?"

Stunned at the news, brown eyes stared at the white wall opposite his tall, leather chair. "A collision with a deep-space probe or something. We'll have the DNI form a CIRG team once you can figure out where it's going to hit. Hopefully, we can get our hands on a piece of it and find out who the hell stopped by."

"Yes, sir. I'll call when we have more definitive information on a footprint."

"Alright, thanks Randall." He bid, then hung up the phone, still in disbelief.

Houston, Texas. 11:04am. CST

Sitting at his desk, the director's fingers tapped on the vinyl covering for his desk in excitement. Unfortunately, there would probably be no survivors on the vessel but if they were lucky, at least the technology would be within their grasp and a manned voyage to Mars and beyond would be realized before he was too old to enjoy it. Rising, he headed to the observation room where several engineers and astrophysicists were gathered, huddled around the large monitors now full of black space mottled with floating debris, rolling on their continued path towards Earth and it's moon.

"Any ideas yet on entry?" he asked.

Sam turned, his dark brown eyes shone from beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. "Most of the debris, it appears, will impact with the moon, but we've been following these pieces," he turned and pointed to a cluster of debris. "Which should be entering the atmosphere soon. We've calculated their speeds at over twenty-three thousand miles an hour which should get these chunks here early tomorrow morning."

"Too bad we couldn't have seen this thing before it collided with the asteroid," another scientist commented.

Randall studied the moving picture as the event unfolded, courtesy of the Hubble. "No one recorded the event before the thing exploded, I take it?"

"We've called everyone," Sam interjected. "No luck."

"Once we can study a few of the pieces, maybe it will help us figure out how big the vessel was," the director added as his cell phone soon began vibrating on his belt. "Oh, there's the press. Let me know if anything changes," he instructed as he headed out of the white, humming room whose computers and monitors kept the confined space alive. Raising the small, black phone to his ear, "Hello."

"Mister St. Cloud, this is Emily George, MSNBC. We have several reports from amateur stargazers in Australia who saw an explosion a few hours ago, care to comment?"

"Yes. We lost a deep space probe to a collision with an asteroid. That's what they saw."

"What was the probe's mission?"

"Mars observation and mapping."

"I saw their pictures, that was quite an explosion for just a probe," she returned skeptically.

"Two objects traveling at twenty-thousand miles an hour collide with one another, they're going to make a mess."

"NASA hadn't calculated the path of the asteroid when they sent the probe out?"

Randall smiled to himself. "We haven't catalogued every asteroid and meteor in the system yet. That's going to take a while. Sometimes these things happen."

"Thank you, director."

"Take care." he tapped the phone 'off' and replaced it to his belt. Now hopefully they could keep anyone else from leaking the real story.

Page 2

Maui, Hawaii. 04:53am

Sitting down at her usual station, the young Air Force second-lieutenant gazed in disgust at the disorganized desk. Shaking her head, she gingerly grabbed the candy wrapper and dropped it into the small trash can beside the steel drawers. Turning back, her blue eyes caught the flash across the sky on the display which prompted the blinking red light atop the bank of computer monitors.

"Tracking objects heading east. Seven miles elevation at speeds of," she gazed at the numbers that the unusual objects were traveling and noticed the readout: 15,038mph. "Fifteen thousand."

"Missiles?" another officer asked as he pushed his wheeled chair around to the station to her left.

"No. The debris that Cheyenne told us about. Call them and let them know five objects on their way." She informed, then began tapping in numbers to try and determine whether or not these were alone. Broadening her search, five more emerged with a steeper descent and her eyes went wide. One of them was headed in their direction.

Tampa, Florida. 23:59pm. EST

In the darkness, a phone rang raising the head of the German Shepherd laying at the foot of the couch which his master had fallen asleep on not a few hours before. Turning, the long snout pointed to the sleeping agent, a long tongue licked his cheek.

Sighing, Brian Strauss turned, raising his right hand. "Okay, I'm up," he replied sleepily. Turning, he grabbed the cell phone from it's recharging station and hit the 'TALK' button and placed it to his ear. "Strauss."

"Sorry to wake you, Brian," the director stated, also sounding like he had been rudely woken. "We need to form a Response Group. The debris is headed our way. I've already notified the mayor and you should have several law enforcement out there also to help with traffic and whatever else. I'll be in the office for logistics."

"Yes, sir. Who is their scene commander?"

"A lieutenant, Mike Coggins. You've got his number so as soon as we can narrow down where they're gonna hit, I'll call you. Just stand by. It shouldn't be long now. The DNI stated that NORAD is tracking them to us as we speak."

"Wonderful. Hopefully, they don't land in my yard."

He chuckled. "Wouldn't have to drive far."

Brian sat up. "This is true," he sighed. "Alright, I'll be ready."

Tampa, Florida. 00:07am. EST

Sitting at the round, wooden table, the six men listened to their gamemaster instruct them on the finale' of the battle. Strewn about them, papers, books and dice lay about cans of soda and empty, crumb mottled plates and a pencil or two.

"...As the final shots ring out," Chris continued, arms folded on the opened, blue binder before him. "He shouts, then falls, riddled with black, smoking holes."

"Move to him," Tom explains. "Check him for money or anything else I can find."

"Another mark in the weapon stock," Ben, the tall, younger player proudly added as he smiled.

"I guess you can have one," Dan joked.

Suddenly, a piercing whine drowned out their discussion as a loud explosion of cracking wood, aluminum and rumbling of earth startled the group, their chairs and surroundings shaking violently, to eye the large window at the back of the house.

"What the hell was that," Chris exclaimed.

"No idea," Dan stated as they all rose, he to the smaller kitchen window to see the burning grass and wooden fence, now in ruins where the shed had once stood. Heart racing, he led them through the kitchen to the door and pushed it open as crying from the young boy in the distant bedroom soon announced the once sleeping child. Turning right, he pulled open the rear door and looked out into the backyard, smelling now of electrical fire and singed wood. Dim, small glows lined the short trench and crater now residing in the neighbor's yard to their left as they filed out into the night. Curiousity piqued, they slowly approached the wreckage and brown eyes noticed the round, egg-shaped object resting, half buried in the dark earth.

"That can't be a satellite," Ben noticed as they could hear the neighbor on his back porch talking to the police dispatcher about the new addition to his lawn. Highlights of the smooth, dark grey surface gave away very little as to what they were now viewing.

"You were looking to replace this shed anyway," Jack commented dryly to Chris, the owner of the home.

"I would've rather taken it down myself without damaging the fence," the dark haired student added, preoccupied with the car-sized object as it's surface dimmed from the glow of re-entry. They watched as he climbed over the debris of wooden frame and sheets of aluminum to near it's side.

"I wouldn't touch it if I were you," Dan cautioned.

"I can hear it," Chris shot back as he rounded the far end, then straightened. "The door's open," he informed as he then crouched to peer inside. "Empty. I wonder if anyone was inside." He stood and scanned the bordering fenceline into the quiet, darkness of tall trees and large bushes.

"Police are on their way," the older man stated from the porch. "They said not to tamper with it."

"Alright. Doesn't appear to be anything in there but seats anyway." Dan watched as his friend then turned back to the vehicle, eyes widened. "No f***ing way! Do you guys know what this is?"

"Doesn't look like anything I've seen," Tom stated.

"Holy s**t!" he exclaimed, then moved back towards the group in his own backyard, climbing back over the wreckage left by the crash. "Tom, grab my cell phone. It's on the table, hurry."

"Alright," the ex-Navy submariner headed back into the house as Dan soon realized what they had found, or had nearly found them.

"This is an escape pod," Chris stated excitedly.

"From what," Jack asked.

"I don't know exactly. But, the hatch was open which means there's someone running right now, or at least hiding nearby."

"What do you need your cell for," Ben queried.

"Take a picture of it before the government makes it disappear and we're brainwashed into forgetting this ever happened," he explained as Tom re-emerged with the phone.

"That's a cheery thought," Dan chuckled as the thump of a helicopter was soon heard approaching. "You better hurry."

* * *

Soon after, Brian drove to the neighborhood street in Town 'n' Country and turned right into the driveway of the origin of the 911 call. Turning off the ignition, he noted the multitude of cars in the neighboring driveway and lights on in several homes to his left and right. Pushing the door open, he stepped out as two black panel vans pulled up and a sheriff's cruiser stopped in the intersection, red and blue lights flashing.
Closing the car door, he walked towards the front of the home as the owner emerged at the screen door, revealing the tall, grey haired man probably in his late forties or early fifties.

"Good evening, sir. Brian Strauss, FBI. I heard you have some wreckage in your back yard," he introduced, flashing his badge.

"Yes, sir. It hit about twenty minutes ago," he explained, pointing towards the back of his house. "The neighbors looked into it and didn't see anyone inside."

Brian nodded as several of his team, black windbreakers sporting the 'FBI' logo in bright, yellow letters on their back moved around the garage. Approaching, he could also hear the helicopter that would hoist the debris from the yard. "We'll take a look at it. Why don't you stay inside for now."

Nodding, the elderly man backed and closed the screen door as Brian turned and walked around to the back, passing the closed garage door. Under a tall, mounted light, he could quickly see the cause of the excitement as his team studied the half-buried pod. He walked up as four members studied the right end and he noticed the small cone-shaped jets which pointed from an obvious engine section.

"Whatta we got here, Terry," he asked, standing next to his long-time friend.

"Hell if I know. I've never seen anything like this in my life. We're gonna have to wrap the cables in the doorway and around the engines to get this thing out of here."

"Alright," he turned to notice the neighbors watching from the nearby fenceline. "Just get it out of here as fast as we can," he directed, then moved to the line of faces. "Did anyone see anything else in the area?"

"No, sir," a balding, tall man stated from near the center of the group while the others shook their head quietly.

Brian nodded. "Alright. Why don't you fellas go back inside. The wash from the chopper is going to be kicking up a lot of debris, I don't want anyone getting hurt." He watched as they hesitated, then finally moved back to the rear door and into the single story home, now brightened by the light from the bottom of the hovering cargo helicopter. Wind from the rotors swirled the nearby oak and other trees, creating a whirlwind of leaves as he moved back to the team. Guiding the pilot, they tied off the pod from lowered cables, then soon watched as it was lifted from the ground, dropping dirt and grass as it rose into the night sky, then soon disappeared. Now to get the rest of the pieces scattered along Hillsborough and Waters Avenues.

Page 3

Tampa, Florida. 05:11am. EST

Brian drove back towards their field office, wondering what they had just found. Not much had been revealed by the director and he feared that little would be within the 'need to know' category. Much of what they found wasn't what he had normally seen in previous clean-ups, the seat-filled pod was the most curious. Hopefully, anyone who may have been inside would be caught soon. Maybe the local hospital would get a visit. His report however, would only reveal what had been physically located. Nothing else.

As the sun rose in the clear sky, his missed sleep told as he tiredly turned into the parking garage, nearly hitting a trio of other agents coming in for their day. Shocked, he straightened, then turned into an empty spot, pushed the gearshift forward, then turned off the car. Time for hours of paperwork.

Walking from the elevator, he stepped out into the carpet filled lobby and turned to approach the front desk to notice the director smile, then step up. "Good morning, sir. Breakfast?"

"Actually, no. They're going to need you at Eglin to meet with the director of NASA and an engineer from LaRC. Sorry."

Brian nodded, already exhausted. "I guess I can sleep next month."

Smiling, the grey haired agent neared. "The helo is up on the roof, Agent Williams is going along also. Why don't you grab something from the cafeteria on your way up."

"Alright."

Houston, Texas. 04:12am. CST

Randall stood within the small lounge which overlooked the private landing strip, drinking his fourth cup of coffee as he waited to board. Next to him, dressed in a rare suit, Sam McKinnon fidgeted with organizing the money within his leather wallet.

"The pieces should be on their way from MacDill to Eglin within the hour," Randall stated, eyeing the crew as they prepared the jet for takeoff.

"I can't wait to see what we've got," Sam added, eagerly. "Allen Conley should be on his way from The Center," he informed, referring to the Langley Research Center in Virginia. "When I told him earlier, he was already packed and out the door before we finished the conversation."

Randall smiled. "He's as excited as we are. There's never been an opportunity like this before."

"No doubt," Sam returned, folding his wallet back up and replacing it within his jacket's breast pocket. "No survivors, I take it?"

Shaking his head, the director took another sip from his cup, then set it on the counter behind them and grabbed his briefcase as the door on the far end opened, revealing the crew chief motioning them to the plane. "That's us," he informed as they began heading to the double set of doors. He had neglected to tell anyone about the escape pod for the moment. More investigation would be needed to see whether or not anyone had actually escaped the collision. He couldn't imagine anyone surviving that but, stranger things had happened.

Eglin Air Force Base, Florida. 05:58am. CST

Brian stepped from the tall, olive green panel van with Agent Terry Williams in tow and approached the large hangar door. Inset, a smaller entry door stood near the center of the tall building's face as two Security Police, armed in camouflage uniforms, M-16's across their chest. Flashing their badges, the leftmost sergeant opened the door for them and stepped aside. Within, Brian's brown eyes adjusted to the interior's dim light as the concrete floor was further cordoned off by orange posts and rope. Within the abnormally shaped pieces that had been recovered he noticed seven men clustered around the pod. Footsteps echoed from the high ceiling as they approached, gaining the attention of an older, grey haired man. Lean, his average height revealed the astronaut who had given up his spacesuit for a desk job.

"You must be Agent Strauss," the blue-eyed director stated.

"Yes, sir. This is Agent Williams," he mentioned, turning to Terry on his left.

"Pleasure. You've found us some interesting trinkets, gentlemen. Of course, you understand all of this is Top Secret."

Brian nodded, not needing to be reminded as he gazed over to the egg-shaped vehicle, now supported by angled metal struts to either side. "Anything interesting in there?"

"Nothing other than what it is. You didn't find anyone around it, wounded?"

"No. Only the concerned neighbors. They didn't see anyone come out of it either."

"Then why was the door open?"

"Perhaps it popped open during the crash," Terry interjected.

Randall nodded. "Probably. You have the names of the people that were around while you picked it up, I trust?"

"Logged in my report." Brian crouched to see into the interior, now lit by a flashlight as another engineer sat on the heads of the seats within. The owner's names of the two homes had been logged, no one else.
His eyes followed the round circle of light to notice something small and shiny beneath the dark grey, metal plating at the foot of one of the seats. Allowing it to pass, he watched and waited for their investigation to center on several panels on the outside of the craft. Opportunity availed, he crawled into the entry and smelled the stale air within as he took out a small penlight and then reached down beyond the seat to find a silver necklace. As he pulled it from the darkened hide underneath the seat, he noticed a small, oblong pendant which sported a tightly wound rope around its border surrounding what appeared to be an elongated skull with two horns protruding from the cheekbones. Concealing it within his fist, he shoved the evidence within his jacket pocket and leaned into the red, padded chair below him as Terry crouched at the entryway.

"What you got, boss?"

"Just wondering what's in these compartments," he stated, reaching underneath the seat to a small, inset door which seemed to coincide with a ringing compartment around the interior of the pod. Tapping and pushing on various points of the barrier, nothing moved or made a sound. Pursing his lips, he finally gave up. He may have already found what he needed to anyway.

Page 4

Tampa, Florida. 10:38am. EST

Now that his wife was off to work, Chris gazed up to the back side of the oak tree which commanded his rectangular shaped back yard. Cleanly broken, the pod had sheared all of the large branches in a jagged semi-circle. Turning left, he followed the path of destruction through his fence and into the ground. The angle was fairly steep and what amazed him most was that the vehicle didn't bounce more than it had.

"That thing should've carried on for a mile or two," he said as Dan stood quietly nearby.

"I know. I'm still wondering if anyone was in it and escaped. It was dark enough, if they were quick, they could've gotten out and jumped his rear fence," he motioned with his eyes to the distant line of treated wood.

"Would've had to be Superman."

"Well, whatever happened, they're not around here anymore."

Blue eyes turned to the taller, bearded friend. "Didn't you think it was odd that the FBI was here so fast instead of the police?"

Dan shrugged. "I really didn't think about it. My bones were still trying to recover from the mild earthquake that thing caused."

Chris grinned. "I didn't get much sleep last night so, a lot was swirling," his right hand accentuated his words next to his head. "No doubt we're on the radar now."

Dan siezed the moment. "Are you sure I wasn't replaced last night after I went home. You could be talking to an undercover agent in disguise," he smiled with little response.

"They were probably following that thing for some time," he continued as he moved to the concrete foundation at the back corner of his property. "No telling where the pieces are now. Probably at the Cape or MacDill."

"Too bad you hadn't bought your telescope yet, we could check and see if anyone's up there now," brown eyes motioned into the partly clouded sky above. "The Witch Hunt's probably been trying to catch this criminal," he joked about a past ship owned by Chris' character. "Cabrin may be paying you a visit soon."

Chris turned, grinning. "I could only hope. Doesn't seem so far fetched now, does it."

* * *

As darkness fell, Brian finally got back to his home in Tampa. Dropping his keys on the end table, he headed straight to his bedroom and dropped his coat on the large, banded, wooden chest that his grandfather had kept. A keepsake from his grandfather's sailing days. Taking a shower, he went over the events of the past two days. Their world had been visited by some alien race who met an unfortunate end while enroute to Earth. Would it be possible that anyone else would arrive in time looking for the first ship? The possibilities were endless. Cutting off the water, he dried off and pulled on his favorite, blue sweatpants and headed out to the bedroom. Leaning over, he picked up his jacket and turned to hang it up, then remembered the pendant that he had found in the pod. He reached in to the pocket and found it empty. Confused, he checked the others and found only the page from the newspaper Terry had given him at Eglin, detailing what the reporters had deemed was wreckage from two defunct Russian satellites. Turning back to the trunk, he scanned the light grey carpet for the silver necklace and found nothing. He also realized that his dog hadn't mauled him when he came in the door. Nervous adrenaline pumped as he moved to get his pistol, laying on the nightstand.
Unholstering the nine millimeter, he chambered a round and moved towards the door as he strained his ears to listen for any movement in the living room. Darkened, he tried to calm his breathing, keeping the muzzle pointed towards the door frame as he approached...

Shaken awake, Brian noticed the dried blood on his hands and could taste it in his mouth.

"Give me your other hand," the sheriff commanded as Brian felt the cuffs around his left wrist, then the right arm swung around his back. The knee in his upper back wasn't pleasant either.

"What the hell is going on," he pushed out.

"Why don't you tell us," another unseen officer asked.

"Someone was in my house. I'm an agent with the Bureau, this is all some mistake."

"The neighbors heard the confrontation and called us. You have the right to remain silent," the officer read off the warning as Brian couldn't believe what he was experiencing until his eyes scanned upward and across the blood stained carpet to see his dog, mangled. The sight made him sick.

"Oh, my God," he exclaimed. "What the hell happened?" he cried as tears welled up.

"Turn on your side and pull your knees up, let's go."

Following the instructions, the sheriff's helped him up as his vision fogged and tears streamed down his cheeks. Standing, they led him out to the cruiser as his neighbors looked on, some with contempt.

"Watch your head," the sergeant instructed, pushing him downward as he sat in the back seat. In disbelief, he sat staring dumbly out through the rear cage and to the distant street beyond the car's hood as the officer leaned over, supporting himself on the open door's frame.

"You wanna talk to me? Tell me what happened?"

"I don't know what happened," Brian pushed out, then looked up to the cleanly shaven, strong, tanned face as cold brown eyes stared back. "I returned home last night, took a shower, went into the room to dress...and then woke up with you kneeling on my back. That's all, I swear."

Nodding skeptically. "Alright. Anyone we can call on your behalf? I see that you're in the Bureau."

"Yeah. Director George Farrior, he should be at the field office," he revealed quietly. "What the hell happened to my dog?" he inquired as tears resumed.

"Neighbors said you attacked it in a fit of rage. You in the habit of eating animals?"

Brian felt himself becoming nauseated, then leaned over and filled the floor opposite where he sat.

Page 5

Tampa, Florida. 13:07pm. EST

Brian sat, still in shock staring dumbly at the light blue table top within one of the interrogation rooms at the sheriff's station. Who was trying to set him up and why? A swirl of emotions and thoughts took him on a roller coaster ride until the metallic click echoed within the room as the door opened. Looking up, he noticed a heavy set man in a nice suit carrying a black leather briefcase and followed by the director who shut the door behind him.

"Brian," George greeted. "How you feeling?"

"How the hell do you think I feel?" he asked as the lawyer sat across from him.

Sitting down to his left, the director folded his hands across his lap and sighed. "There's a CSI team there now trying to figure out what happened. Hopefully, they find what we need to get you out of here. But, until then, this is Mister Charles Blake. He's your attorney."

"Agent Strauss," a beefy hand levitated across the table and Brian reluctantly took it, then retreated. "Tell me exactly what happened last night."

Brian recounted the events in his mind and began. "I came home, took a shower, realized that my dog had been quiet," he felt his emotions well again as he swallowed hard. "When I made my way back towards the living room, I must have blacked out. The next thing I know, I'm being arrested." Hands went wide in exasperation. "That's it."

"Were you home alone?" Charles asked.

Brian nodded.

"Has there been anyone that you've recently incarcerated that's threatened you? Phone calls with no answers? Anything like that?"

Brown eyes gravitated to the tabletop as he tried to run through the files and faces. "One or two, but they're still in prison. None of them have the resources for something like this. Besides, they'd have killed me instead." He wiped his cheeks and sniffed.

Nodding, the arbiter's red flattop gleamed in the bright light from overhead as he jogged down some notes on his yellow legal pad. "Alright. If you think of anything else, call me," he handed Brian his business card. "The rest I'll get from the forensics team and I'll keep in touch with you. Hopefully, they find something that we can use to get you out of here."

"Alright. Can you give us a few minutes," he motioned to the director as the lawyer shoved the pad back into his case and rose.

"No problem." Charles headed out through the door and pulled it closed behind him.

Brian turned to his supervisor. "There may have been someone in that pod," he revealed, turning to face the director squarely.

Brow furrowed. "What?"

"While at Eglin, I found a silver necklace inside. I was looking for it after my shower last night. I think that person had followed me home to retrieve it and may be the one's setting me up."

Chuckling in disbelief, he leaned forward. "You're serious. Why didn't you put that in your report?"

"It could've been dropped in there by someone long before the crash," he shrugged. "I don't know. What I do know is, you have to get me out of here. I can't help out stuck in this jail."

"You keep it up with this conspiracy theory, I can't help you. They're gonna lock you up in the puzzle factory and throw away the key, understood? Just sit tight and let us do our job and tell no one about the necklace. Got me?"

"Alright," Brian reluctantly acquiesced as he sat back.

Eglin Air Force Base, Florida. 12:09pm. CST

Sam pored over the large, shredded pieces that had been recovered in Tampa, keeping notes of the various lines, tubes and pipes seared, melted and bent within the plating. Made of a substance that he had never seen before, the excitement had kept he and several other engineers up since the previous day.

"That's odd," Allen Conley, the engineer from Virginia stated as Sam peered over the rectangular obstruction between them.

"What've you got, Al?" He queried as he rounded towards his right and approached.

"I hadn't noticed these panels before, did you?" the thinner investigator mentioned from within the short neck of the pod's interior. Sam immediately noticed the storage locker which Allen had opened as he rummaged through tightly bound packages in what appeared to be a light tan plastic.

"No. What's in those?"

"I don't know," he eyed the younger assistant logging the items into his laptop as Allen lined them up on the concrete floor. "They almost feel like they're filled with dehydrated food or something."

"How'd you find the panel?"

"I just happened to lean into it the right way and heard a click," he explained as he removed several more of the packages which measured no bigger than a large book.

Once logged, they opened the first and removed smaller packages of what appeared to be stored medication in long, thin bottles filled with a liquid from blue, red, light green and maroon.

"We should get this stuff to the lab right away," Sam suggested.

Allen looked up to his quiet assistant. "Steve, get a box and pack this stuff up."

"Alright."

As he rose and moved towards the far offices, they continued looking for more panels that may have been missed as Allen pushed on the walls around him until hearing another click and lowering his hands to open another compartment. Sam moved closer and noticed a dark grey, metal box slide out and...

Pouring himself another cup of coffee, the security policeman stood near the Entry Control Point across the taxiway from the long line of hangars. As he raised the cup and gazed out through the window filled building, an explosion rocked the base, knocking him sideways through the door to his left as the concussion blasted the windows out, showering him as he fell. Turning to look back towards the hangar where the secretive investigation was going on, all he saw was an enormous fireball showering tiny bits of metal and concrete into the air. The ground shook violently and he couldn't believe his eyes, ears still ringing from the blast.

Washington, D.C. 13:27pm. EST

Randall walked through the close, elegantly decorated halls of the White House as he made his way to the Oval Office. His initial report was complete and he was eager to get back to Eglin. Buzzing, his cell phone interrupted his thoughts as he removed it from it's plastic holder on his belt, opened it as he tapped the 'TALK' button.

"This is Randall St. Cloud."

"Yes, sir. Colonel Vandever, Eglin. I'm sorry to interrupt but, I have some bad news..."

Page 6

Fort Walton Beach, Florida. 13:27pm. CST

Sitting within the darkened hotel room, the figure closed the small computer and replaced it into their right jacket pocket. Now all the evidence that the ship had crashed here on this world was gone they thought, smiling to themselves. Now, to complete the reconaissance mission that had been organized before the idiot captain approached too close to the system and nearly killed everyone on board. Luckily, one had the ability of foresight and moved to an escape pod before it was too late.

Becuma was not going to be pleased that the initial mission met with failure so early. Hopefully, in time another vessel would arrive with someone who wasn't so incompetent and it was fortuitous the thermal detonators hadn't exploded on impact when the pod landed. Now on to bigger and better things.

Tampa, Florida. 14:43pm. EST

Chris sat with Tom on his two couches, thumbing through various channels until noticing the News Bulletin.

"...exploded this afternoon. Sources say that static electricity in the fuel truck had gotten to dangerous levels during defueling of the C-141 which caused the fireball which could be seen for miles," the male anchor informed. "A shock wave was also felt on the far side of Fort Walton Beach, rattling windows and knocking things off of shelves nearby. There's been no information yet on how many lost their lives but estimates are around seven or eight."

"That's incredible," Tom said, eyes glued to the picture as black smoke rose into the air from the helicopter's camera.

"I wonder if Eglin is where they took the pod?" Chris mused aloud.

"Possibly. It would make sense."

"There was someone on that thing," he felt his heart race as his young son, Gabriel climbed up into his lap.

"Why do you think that?"

"Blowing up that pod and whatever else they found would keep our government from finding out anything about them or their technology."

Tom chuckled. "How would they get on base without anyone seeing them? That place is heavily guarded. Sensors and other stuff would go off if someone even got near the fence."

Chris shrugged. "Just an idea," he said, though not totally convinced to the contrary himself yet. The hunting lodge in Perry was starting to look good right now. "I think we should pack some things ready to go anyway."

"Go where?"

"Perry. If we do get invaded, we could hide out there."

Brow furrowed, Tom eyed him skeptically. "You're serious about this?"

"Yeah. We've got room for our families up there and I know Jim wouldn't mind." He eyed his son sitting quietly watching the weather man continue the broadcast with his own segment. "You should trust me on this one," he turned back to Tom.

"Alright. We should call the others then."

Chris nodded, realizing that his proposal was a major undertaking and could spell the loss of his home also. But, family came first.

Washington, D.C. 14:45pm. EST

Randall sat across from the president and his secretary of defense, wondering what he would tell Sam's wife.

"What happened, Randy," the president asked, fingers interlaced across his lap as he leaned forward.

"I wish I knew. No one that had been in there before the explosion has been able to shed any light on the accident yet."

"You sure it was an accident," the deeper voice interjected from the president's left. "You still haven't found out yet if that pod was empty. We could have someone running around in Florida that caused this thing to go up."

"All I can do is go by what is known," Randall began. "We can speculate all day long but, there may have been something stored within a hidden compartment. Once the team gets in there and picks through the rubble, I can't say. What is known thus far, is that the vessel was over a mile long," he leaned forward, tapping on the 'ENTER' key on his computer and turning it around to show the president whose brown eyes lit up at the artist's rendering. "This is compiled from all the information that we've gathered thus far. We estimate that it had a crew of nearly six thousand, at least. The chunks that we've been able to see on the moon indicate that the engines on this vessel were enormous. We're still trying to determine what type of fuel was used from evidence of a piece that was recovered in the Pacific near Maui."

"My word," the president exclaimed in disbelief, hands folded under his chin. "We're going to have to keep USSTRATCOM on alert from now on," he turned to his defense secretary, then back to Randall. "As well as every satellite and sensor station that you can spare. I want to know if someone comes looking for this ship before we get another surprise."

Nodding, Randall grinned, knowing how monumental that task would be. "We'll do our best."

Page 7

Tampa, Florida. 00:32am. EST

Climbing the stairs after returning from work, Dan turned right and put the key in the lock, then turned it and pushed the door open. Light from the hall light illuminated the dark, studio apartment, then returned as he walked in and closed it behind him. Moving to the television on the opposite wall, he pushed in the 'ON' button and headed left into the small dressing area and prepared for a shower as Jay Leno interviewed Samuel L. Jackson. Once done, he dried off and headed back out into the main room and headed to the computer desk. As he reached in to tap the modem, he noticed the green lights already on.

'Must've forgotten to turn it off earlier,' he thought, then sat down and tapped the button on the face of the tower and waited. Stretching, he suddenly felt the presence of someone behind him. Turning with a start, he noticed the darkly clad female staring back at him. Her oval, olive-complected face featured two, nearly glowing eyes as he felt his heart stop. Dark, heavy clothing soon came into focus as the monitor's light illuminated his guest.

"You interrupted my homework," she stated coldly.

"Sorry about that," he returned, more out of reflex than thought. Long, light brown hair vainly covered the intricate, dark grey colored tattoos on her forehead. Everything about her made him nervous as she placed her gloved hands on his shoulders and turned him back around to the wide screen monitor.

"Open up the history and click on the last entry," she directed quietly. Her calm voice held ice within it as he moved the cursor to the location and noticed that she had been studying NASA's website. As she read, his heart began to race with the realization of who his guest may be. "You play along and you'll survive this encounter, got it?"

"Yeah," he replied. She could read his mind?

"Yes, I can. Now shut up," she emphasized, clenching on his neck muscles. Once she finished with NASA, she had him hit various other sites dealing with technology, sensors and soon the military.

"Alright, I'm done." She backed away as he closed out of Safari and tapped the modem off, then stars filled his vision.

Tampa, Florida. 05:49am. EST

Brian awoke out of habit as he had been for twelve years since being in the Bureau. Looking around him, he noticed the cold, white walls, small toilet and metal door with the small window and narrow, rectangular slot for his food. Still here. He sat up and heard some of his neighbors here in solitary as they yelled through their doors to those across from them. Risky since the guards tried to keep this area silent as part of their punishment. His membership in this exclusive club was necessary to keep him from any violent repercussions once the general population found out who he worked for. Lucky for them for Brian was in no mood right now.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and grew louder as he finally noticed the guard stop at his door and the rattle of keys as he unlocked the door to E217. Straightening as the door swung open, he noticed another guard motion.

"Let's go," he instructed.

Brian rose from the thinly padded bed and headed out into the hallway, then followed as the gatekeeper slammed the door home. As they walked, his peripheral noticed his neighbors eyeing him as he passed, some no more than mere teenagers. Soon, their journey ended in the large communal room, two guards standing behind a large desk in the shape of a half-circle. His brown eyes moved to the left and he noticed his attorney with another suit.

"Mister Strauss," the overweight lawyer greeted, then motioned to the chair at his right which Brian claimed. He quickly sized up the quiet partner. Healthy, mid-thirties, clean shaven as his attention turned back to his arbiter. "I've got some good news. We've found long, red hairs in one of the chairs near where the sheriff's found you. Your ex-wife had been there," he explained as Brian began to see some light at the end of the tunnel but, Mary had never hated the dog.

"Neighbors saw her leaving after the fight with your pet. Sheriff's have her in custody now," he turned to the other gentleman. "I'm sorry, this is Agent Wilcox, he's with the government."

Brian nodded, "How's it going?"

"Fine. You'll be out of here within twenty-four hours, guaranteed. We've had an incident that may require your knowledge and expertise so, don't get yourself in trouble while you're in here."

"I'm trying." He turned back to Chuck. "What else did the forensics team find?"

Lifting pages within his notepad, "No forced entry. Of course, your ex still had a key. No fingerprints other than hers and yours and during the autopsy, the dog was dead before you returned home from the Panhandle. You appear to have been the victim of circumstance so far. What we can't explain is the blood that was found on you when you were arrested," he looked back up.

"Like I mentioned before, I blacked out as I was moving towards the bedroom door. I have no idea how or why, I've been trying to figure that one out."

"The paramedics didn't find any blunt force trauma or anything. Have you ever had blackouts before?"

Brian shook his head. "No. This was the first. Was anything found in the blood test?"

"No, no drugs or any sign of gas. I've scheduled an MRI for you this afternoon, maybe that will find something."

"Alright," though, he didn't care for tight spaces. If it got him back out on the street, he'd suffer through it.

Tampa, Florida. 10:12am. EST

Chris finished packing his gear and clothes into his dark green, backpack, then zipped it closed as Gabe played in the hall floor with his blocks. Rising, he shouldered his pack and moved from the bedroom, spying his son. "You about ready to go see Grandpa?"

"Yeah," the four-year-old stated excitedly.

"Put your toys away, then," he instructed as he headed into the living room and picked up his cell phone. Opening to his menu, he scrolled down the list until finding Dan's number and hit 'DIAL', then waited.

"Dan Smithson, not available, leave a message," the recording stated, then beeped.

"I don't want to leave a message," Chris stated then waited for the usual answer but none came as moments ticked by. "Come on, damnit. Answer the phone." Soon, another beep and then a busy signal filled his ear. 'Well, you know where we're headed,' he thought. Closing the phone, his wife, Leanne opened the front door and smiled. "Got everything?"

"Yep. Where's Gabe?"

"He's cleaning up. Tom should be on his way and mom and dad are packing now. We should be out of here in about an hour."

"Alright. My dad's waiting, he said he's already stocked up on food, but I got money out of the account to take with us."

Chris nodded, then headed out through the front door. Already humid, the warm day seemed to indicate that winter was finally over. From warm to hot in the Sunshine State. Rounding the green truck, he lifted the door on the top and swung his pack onto the other suitcases, tools, laptop and extra guns. Four large boxes of MRE's also had been collected the day before and would come in handy. As he mentally went over the list to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, the rumble of the Ford Mustang approached as Tom drove up into the driveway behind him. Turning, he noticed his friend get out of the car and close the door.

"About time."

"I'm not late," Tom defended. "Everybody ready?"

"Getting there," he replied impatiently. "Your family on their way up."

"They're going to stay with my brother on his farm. I told them where we were headed though," he eyed into the back of the truck. "Got everything?"

"Knowing me, whatever I forgot I'll remember on the way there."

"I tried calling Dan but there wasn't any answer," Tom backed.

"I did too, maybe he's at his brother's."

"Probably."

Soon, two cars and the truck were on their way northward and to safety.

Page 8

Tampa, Florida. 15:47pm. EST

Brian dressed back into the spare clothes that Terry had dropped off. The one's they had arrested him in should be burned, he thought, remembering that morning - all too vividly. The MRI had found a small tumor in his brain which doctor's planned on removing the next day but, Brian had a job to do and someone out there wanting him out of the way. He grabbed his jacket and moved to the cell door as the guard moved aside, following him out as they headed from the cell block and to the booking area. Leaning from the yellow line on the floor, he received the large, vanilla envelope and backed. Opening it, he took out his keys and then turned left to head to the front door. Finally, freedom.

Out front, he recognized the maroon Chrysler waiting in the circle drive. Smiling, he opened the passenger door as Terry sat behind the wheel and got in.

"Hurry," Brian began. "Let's get out of here before they change their mind," he joked.

"I take it the bribe to the warden was enough," Terry joined in. "He didn't make you do anything you'll regret, did he?"

"No favors, no. He said I needed to keep an eye on the one who gunned for soccer moms though."

Terry grew quiet, turning his attention to the road. "That was cold."

"Oh, come on. She had it coming. You didn't have a choice," Brian slapped his friend on the arm. "Just messing, bro."

Terry sighed, "Now what?"

"We get a blood hound and redo the investigation in the house."

"Already did. Mary wasn't there," Terry informed as they approached a red light.

Brian turned to him. "What? The attorney said that they matched hair to her. You're telling me she wasn't there?"

"Yep. But you didn't hear this from me because that would mean that you go back to your one-bunk Hilton instead of being out here where you're needed."

"That's not gonna give us a lot of time. She didn't have a motive. I still can't believe...," he felt his emotions well again as Terry placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"I know. It was a cold thing that they did. I loved Bernie too. But, that still leaves us with a perp out there somewhere that has it out for you."

Brian sighed, wiping his cheeks. "Yeah," he sighed, then changed gears. "We need to get back to Eglin and have the blood hound hit the pod instead."

"I take it you didn't hear then," Terry began as they moved on, turning left and heading back towards the tall skyline of Tampa. "The hangar went up with everything inside, killing the NASA engineers and taking the neighboring hangars with it."

Looking at his partner in shock, Brian couldn't believe his ears. "What? You're serious?"

Nodding, the agent of ten years lost his sense of humor. "Air Force and more men in white are picking through the rubble as we speak."

"Oh, for crying out loud." Brian's realm of possibilities was narrowing quickly. He had less time than he thought. "So, now what?" Brown eyes turned to the surrounding businesses and sparse trees as they sped by.

"Take the blood hound to the initial scene and start there," Terry suggested as he turned to the senior investigator. "Yes, you've got me believing in E.T., so don't rub it in."

Brian smiled. "I guess you have been paying attention all these years."

* * *

They met the local sheriff and his dog at the address in Town 'n Country to find no one home at either whose back yards had been the scene of the landing. Heading around to the rear, they allowed the dog to begin at the immense trench and watched as her nose guided them towards the rear fence, then stopped.

"Come on," the officer pulled on the short leash as they moved back to their cars, then drove around to the next street west. Brian eagerly walked with the shepherd that began to remind him of his own as it followed the scent from the fenceline and on to a large clump of palmettos in the near corner where she stopped, sitting on her haunches.

"That's it," Brian asked as he moved into the thorny leaves, pushing them aside to see within the shadowed corner.

"Apparently they stopped here," the sheriff informed, then tried to get his dog to make sure.

"And what, vanished into thin air," Terry inquired as Brian noticed footprints in the grey, sandy ground.

"Terry, get me the plaster, tape and camera," Brian stated, crouching down as he scanned for more evidence of his elusive alien.

"Alright," his partner moved back around to the car as the sheriff walked around with the dog to the perpindicular fenceline but, without any results. Brian backed as he noticed the behavior.

"No other traces of our perp," he asked.

"No. Doesn't look like it. Maybe they climbed the tree. I'll take her around to the next yard and see if she picks anything up there."

"Alright."

Soon, they had the prints molded, photographed and without any more evidence to go on, they moved back to their cars. "Thanks, sergeant," Brian shook the sheriff's hand, then smiled at the dog in the back seat, panting from the heat.

"You bet. Glad to help."

Brian's mind, still racing came up with another place to have the dog investigate. "Follow us. There's one more address I'd like her to hit."

"Alright."

* * *

Once at his own home, he watched with excitement as the dog excitedly moved around his own living room from the bedroom door and around to the sliding glass door at the rear of the house then stop. Someone had cleaned the carpet, thankfully. He had his suspicions on who as he glanced to his partner, then followed the dog. In the backyard, they crossed from the wide, flagstoned patio and pool to the distant fenceline and from there, the scent was lost again. The trio stood together once the trail went cold.

"She didn't notice it straight from the patio to here," Brian recounted.

"No," the sheriff concurred. "Odd."

"Maybe we're dealing with Superman," Terry interjected as they mentally calculated the distance from the rear door to this spot. Ten yards easy. Brian couldn't believe what they had found.

"Thanks again, sergeant," he turned back to the officer. "Any way I can repay you for your time? Beer?" he smiled.

Grinning in return. "We've got to get back, unless you need us for anything else. But, I appreciate it."

Nodding, Brian headed back to the one-story home. "I think this should do it. We've actually gained some interesting information already. The rest is all guesswork and luck."

Page 9

Tampa, Florida. 06:08am. EST

Brian nervously walked up to the front door of the hospital, Terry on his right. "You don't have to stick around, you know."

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" his partner eyed him askance. "We've been through too much besides, I'd hate to catch our man with you laid up in some hospital bed flirting with a nurse and then try to take all the credit afterwards."

Smiling, he opened the door and walked into the main lobby where some patients and their family members were already waiting.

* * *

As he went for his procedure, Terry sat on the long couch and gazed up to the television. CNN was covering more problems in Iraq which he had lost track of the past few days. Car bombs taking out shoppers in Baghdad was becoming commonplace, unfortunately. As time went on, they began repeating the same stories over and over which prompted him to pick up a magazine. No telling how long he would be sitting here. Scanning through the National Geographic, his cell phone rang. Picking it up, he tossed the magazine back onto the table and answered it.

"Williams."

"We've got some information on the crash that you may be interested in," the familiar male voice stated. "Steve's got the results from your test ready at the lab."

"Thanks, Rob. I'll be down there shortly." Closing the phone, he stood and headed out to the parking lot. He'd be back long before Brian got out of surgery anyway. Opening the door, he sat within his new car, placed the key in the ignition...

* * *

Brian lay on the table as the anesthesiologist lowered the mask. A muffled rumble suddenly caught his attention just as his world narrowed and darkened.

"Wai..."

* * *

As the black smoke rose into the sky from the wreckage, a smile beamed from behind the dark glasses as she turned the wheel and left the parking lot. Heading onto Martin Luther King Boulevard, the green Camaro drifted into traffic and soon disappeared.

Tampa, Florida. 08:23am. EST

George Farrior, director of the Tampa field office stood, angrily watching firefighters putting out the fire which had engulfed his agent's car. Someone was targeting these two and he needed to find out who and why. Hands on hips, he waited for the fire marshall to finish, then approached the older man who stood near his white Ford pickup.

Flashing his badge, "I'm Director Farrior, Tampa office. I'll need to identify the body and then we can take the car from here."

Nodding, the thinly moustached veteran glanced back to the blackened vehicle's frame. "I'll have to do a preliminary report then it's all yours. I take it he was with your office also."

"Yes," George stated unemotionally, trying to keep his thoughts in check as the sheriffs and mortician stood by on the far left and his own men on the right near the flat bed, tow truck. His deputy director walked up quietly, cigarette hanging from his lips.

"We've id'ed the plates."

"I already know who it is," George cut off. "He brought Strauss here for surgery this morning." He turned to the balding, thinner agent. "I want the team to go over this thing with a fine-toothed comb. Have someone check the camera also, see if we can spot anyone approach it after they arrived. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"On it, chief," Cory nodded.

George left his men to their task as he walked into the hospital and headed towards the surgery wing. Leaving the elevator, he then headed across to the long desk full of nurses and organized chaos as they tended to their patients.

Looking up, the middle-aged woman in colorful shirt eyed him. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I need to speak with Doctor Harold Fineman when he's done in surgery. He's working on one of my boy's right now."

She gazed down to the computer screen below the countertop and scanned. "It'll be about a half-an-hour or so if you want to wait."

He nodded, "Alright."

* * *

Soon, he noticed the surgeon exit one of the labs to his right and approached the doctor, his light blue outfit reflecting the overhead lights as he studied a paper filled folder. "Doctor Fineman," George interrupted. "I'm George Farrior. You just removed a tumor from one of my men, I just wanted to know how he's doing."

"Ah, yes," he straightened his glasses. "He's doing fine. Should be awake this evening if you wanted to see him. We'll probably keep him in ICU for a day or two, keep an eye on him. You're in the Bureau also, I presume."

"Yes," George nodded. "How long had he had it?"

"Normally these develop over months or remain dormant for years, but his seems to have grown quite rapidly. Fairly unusual actually. I'm having it examined right now." He cut off as he nodded, then continued on.

"Doc," George turned and followed. "If anything comes up with him, call me."

"Alright."

George handed him his card, then headed back to the elevator. Hopefully the doctor would keep his word.

Page 10

Tampa, Florida. 14:11pm. EST

Brian found it hard to control his emotions as he stood with many others, listening quietly in the cloud-filled day which matched their black clothing and dreary mood. He couldn't believe he was standing here today, things had gone from bad to worse since that morning nearly three weeks ago and now one of his friends was dead. Sighing, he half-listened as the priest gave last rites and a few uplifting words to the family. What more could he say to Terry's wife to try and help console her? Nothing came to mind as he tried to deal with his own feelings and he breathed deeply, turning his sorrow into determination. Reddened eyes narrowed as the prayer ended and they quietly parted. He slowly turned and headed back to the intersecting drive, trying to keep his mind on what had been found in Terry's Chrysler and on the surveillance camera. A thin coating of thermite was located during the investigation and had been planted before he had left that morning. The green Camaro belonged to one of the friends of a resident in Town 'n Country and had been seen leaving the scene just after the explosion. Things were becoming a bit too convenient and coincidental, he thought as the address took him back to the site of the pod crash. Chris and his family had been missing for twelve days now and neighbors mentioned seeing them packing their green Ford and leaving. Perhaps in time he would visit them at the hunting lodge northwest of Perry, but not right now. He was sure that they had nothing to do with his partner's death. Somewhere else lurked the real culprit and he would find them.

"Brian," the mature voice called from behind. He turned to notice the director approach as he slowed. "Join me for a drink?"

"I need to get back to the house. Finish cleaning. Thanks anyway."

George grinned. "Listen to me, this thing is about all of us, not just you. Got it?"

"He was my partner. I'm going to find this bastard and bring him in," Brian could feel his blood begin to boil.

"Just be careful. When this becomes personal, I have to put someone else on it who's thinking with a clear head. Don't make me do that."

Brian half-smiled. "I've been at this long enough. I know how it works," he glanced back towards the laquered, wooden coffin topped with flowers of white and red.

George leaned into his view. "Take a few days off. Get drunk, hit the beach. Get out of town for a while."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine. I'm not blind. We've all been there before and are there now. I'm not making a request. See you next week and don't let me hear that you've been snooping around this case."

Brian stared back coldly, not wanting a break but not desiring a suspension either. He nodded, turned and continued on to his car. Unlocking the door, he got in his car and relaxed as he sat. He could leave town, but he needed to make a stop on the way.

* * *

Pulling into the complex, he turned right and then followed the tree-filled median around and to the apartment. Police had already investigated the Camaro on the hunch but, found nothing interesting. The owner was nowhere to be found which was odd and Reptron hadn't seen Dan for nearly two weeks. Hopefully his body wasn't floating in a swamp somewhere. Missing Person's hadn't any leads and they would keep their eyes open but, Brian knew how long it took to find someone unless a neighbor or friend revealed a key piece of evidence.

Passing the clubhouse and pool, he slowed over the speed bump and continued on to the first building which faced him on the left. Turning the wheel, he moved into a parking place and turned off the ignition. He sat and pondered why the culprit would want to involve this person and allow Brian to follow these leads. Maybe they were playing with him and if so, he would win this match.

Pushing the door open, he stepped out and headed up the sidewalk to the double doors and pulled the rightmost open. Climbing the stairs, he turned to the right and approached the door. Looking up, he noticed the apartment - '202' sat in white numbers above the door. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his kit and picked the lock. Opening the door, he quietly stepped in and pushed it closed behind him. Brown eyes studied the modest apartment with all the furniture commanding the corners and outer perimeter of the large room. To the distant right corner the open doorway to the kitchen and straight ahead a small dressing room with bathroom beyond, darkened from no access to the window behind the bookcase to the right jammed between two speakers divided by an older chest of drawers and bed. Taking in the room, he could feel the male that lived there whose Norman Rockwell copies, pictures of beaches and romantic scenes faced a heraldry surrounded picture of Scotland and black starchart. Slowly he walked into the dressing area and found the lightswitch on his right. As the room brightened, he immediately noticed the tower of boxes that choked the closet and spilled out onto the Mexican tile as well as the two boxes underneath the sink. Two large binders sat atop the counter and caught his attention. Opening the grey notebook on top, he noticed the confusing mix of pictures of ships and vehicles along with stats for people which he quickly deduced were part of some game but as he scanned through the book, he noticed hand drawn pictures of a few. One was of two white haired women whose solid blue eyes and peaceful demeanor caught his attention.

"Not bad," he stated aloud. Why were these out? He moved the thick grey book aside and noticed that the maroon underneath was full of more of the same. This guy had been busy. "Hmm."

Crouching, he noticed a white box stacked with thin, paperback supplements for the Star Wars game weighing down on top of quite a few more standing uniformly within the box itself. Supporting the closest edge, he noticed a piece of paper sticking out from a dark blue, plastic folder. Picking it out, he unfolded the page to notice odd symbols on the lines. He had never seen the language before as the smooth, flowing shapes elegantly covered three quarters of the page. Standing, he refolded it and placed it within his jacket as he scanned into the bathroom, then turned back to the living area. Standing as he looked for something out of the ordinary, anything, he realized that very little would be in the open that hadn't been found already. To the right, he noticed the Macintosh computer commanding the older wooden desk and stepped over to it. Taking out his cell phone, he speed dialed the office. It was Friday so there may still be someone around.

"McKenzie."

"Hey Rob, this is Brian. I need some info and history from the computer at this address. One-three-five-oh-four Park Lake, apartment two-oh-two. Owner's name is Daniel James Smithson, Junior."

"Is it hooked up to the internet?"

Brian gazed over the LCD screen to notice the cable modem. "Yeah."

"Give me a few. You're there now I take it," the technician asked, keys tapping away in the background.

"Yeah," Brian confirmed as he opened the drawers of the desk, noticing receipts, address book, zip disks and a host of pencils.

"I thought you were on your way to Maui or something. Farrior said that we weren't to allow you back in the office until next week."

"I'm on my way. Just had to make a stop before I left."

"Right. Okay, we've got two primary sites. Hotmail and laneys-dot-info are among the most hit but, I've got several hits on google-dot-com that lead to wikipedia. He's also been researching NASA and several subsidiary sites as well as doing a lot of hits on military sites. What did he do for a living?"

"Technician for some manufacturer in Oldsmar. How recent were the military and NASA hits?"

"March third from three-thirty in the afternoon until almost four in the morning. He was busy."

Brian knew that Dan had been at work that night after checking his attendance. Someone else was here while he was away and then when he returned home... "Thanks, Rob."

"No problem. Enjoy your time off."

"I will," Brian closed his cell as he dropped his arm. Time to get to work.

Page 11

Perry, Florida. 11:09am. EST

Chris sat on the long picnic table under the shadow of one of the many large oaks that commanded the hunting lodge and twenty acres that his father-in-law owned. Far enough from anywhere, they had come here for several paintball outings over the years. Lifting his cell phone he speed dailed Eric Laney and lifted it to his ear as the soft crunching of footsteps announced Tom who walked up, Mountain Dew in hand and sat in a nearby chair.

"Hey there," Eric answered. "How's the wild outdoors?"

Chris chuckled. "Nice," he commented as he looked out across to the heavier woods to his right. "How's everything going there?"

"Same as usual, taking care of the baby and working. Jack was threatening to sharpen his cutlery since we're not gaming right now and haven't for some time," he laughed. "It could start to get ugly."

"No doubt. Hopefully he doesn't have to use those knives and swords anytime soon. You heard anything from Dan?"

"No. I've called a few times but, no luck. There hasn't been any new pages added to his stories lately so, I'm not sure where he's at. I was kindof hoping you had heard something."

"Not yet. Bastard. Maybe he's staying with his dad or something. I'll see if I can get his number. I just wanted to check in, see how things were going."

"Well, I'm glad you did."

"You know you've got a place here if you want." He added as he looked back to the smoldering fire before him, burning their garbage.

"It's been almost three weeks, you're really convinced of an invasion?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, I am. We've been stocking up here with food and water as well as ammo. Tom and I have been needing you to come and bring the hourglass with you. We need it," he smiled.

Laughing. "I've tried it without any results. Sorry. I must've gotten the defective one."

"Whatever, pal. Well, if you hear anything from Dan let me know."

"Alright, I will. Take care."

"You too," he bid then hung up. As he lowered his right arm he gazed to Tom. "Feel like taking a ride?"

"Where to?"

* * *

Perry, Florida. 11:14am. EST

Brian drove over the rough, pocked country road whose orange clay pounded his suspension as he soon found the side road to the hunting lodge. Turning left, he followed it around and to the long, metal gate barring his way. Placing the gear into 'P'ark, he stepped out and walked up through the humid air, thick even for late spring as he noticed the bright red Mustang approaching from the two distant, one-story buildings and soon stop as the agent stopped at the gate and waved. Opening the passenger door, the dark haired man stepped out.

"What can we do for you?"

"You'd be Chris McCutcheon?"

He nodded tentatively. "Yeah."

Brian flashed his badge. "Brian Strauss, FBI. I was with the group that lifted the wreckage from your neighbors yard. I was wondering if we could talk."

"We were just getting ready to leave."

"This will only take a moment. It also involves your friend, Dan Smithson. Have you heard anything from him lately?"

More interested now, the stocky man walked closer. "No, actually."

Brian nodded, not the answer he was hoping for. "His car was seen leaving the scene of a crime but, we're sure it wasn't him. Does he have a girlfriend?"

Shaking his head, Chris stopped within a few feet as the driver stepped out of the car, also in fatigues.

"Anyone been hanging around that he's mentioned or harrassing him within the past two weeks?"

"I haven't seen him since the day after that pod landed in my backyard. There was someone in that thing, wasn't there?"

Knowing he couldn't reveal too much, Brian shrugged. "We've found no evidence to support that theory yet. Did you see someone escape that pod when it crashed?"

"No. We got out there fairly quickly, so they would've had to have been ready to jump out the minute that thing hit, otherwise I can't see anyone escaping before we got out to it."

He sighed, resting his arms across the top bar on the metal gate. "You and your families left town fairly quickly." His brown eyes studied Chris closely.

"Just taking some vacation time out here with my wife's family."

Brian grinned. "Look, we're all in this thing together. My partner was killed by the one that stole your friend's car and I need to find out where they are. Hopefully in doing so, I can find your friend also."

Shrugging, Chris's blue eyes narrowed. "If we knew where he was, I'd have him out here with us."

Reaching into his shirt pocket, he produced his card and handed it to Chris. "If he contacts you, call me. Alright?"

"Sure," Chris nodded.

"Alright," Brian turned and headed back to his car as Chris opened the gate and Tom headed back to his Mustang. Getting in, he backed towards the neighboring drive and turned around. Still no closer to his quarry, he at least knew where they weren't.

Page 12

Perry, Florida. 11:25am. EST

Brian continued back to the main highway, noticing the faint outline of the Mustang behind him, picking their own way through the cratered road within the cloud of dust rising from his own path. His mind was still racing, trying to figure out what would be this alien's next move as he approached the gentle curve onto paved road as two large Dodge trucks flew past him. Punching the accelerator, he joined them and continued to watch as the duo he had just left followed loosely behind.
In order for another vessel to approach undetected, a long line of numerous sensor and radar stations would have to be blinded which would pose a monumental task for one person. Though, this unique individual had proven to be fairly elusive and proactive thus far.

He continued into the small town and pulled into a Texaco which hugged US19 which bisected the town and had given it life. As he pulled up underneath the large, white overhang, he noticed the Mustang continue south. Gazing down to his gauge, he had three-quarters of a tank - plenty. He continued on and pulled back out into traffic, keeping a discreet distance. As he followed, his mind coursed over what had transpired since the recovery. They had gone out of their way to reclaim the pendant, frame him for animal abuse, kill his partner and kidnap some unknown after researching their country's military and space technology - what was available.

Turning the wheel, he sped back northward.

Tampa, Florida. 12:07pm. EST

George sat at his desk, finalizing paperwork for a search-and-seizure as his phone rang. He picked it up, still preoccupied with the court order. "Director Farrior."

"Hey, boss," Brian's familiar voice greeted.

George looked up from his pen, eyeing the leather chairs across from his desk. "I don't hear surf in the background. Why is that?"

"Listen. We need to warn the DNI, I think there's gonna be a terrorist-like attack on the SPASUR Fence."

Brow furrowed, "Agent Strauss, vacation means time away from work. What evidence do you have?"

"None at the moment but, I need authorization to work with the military. At least call Eglin and the other bases across to Socorro and tell them to double their security."

George chuckled. "Without any substantial evidence other than gut instinct, they're going to give me that polite gratitude and hang up. You know that." He sat back in his tall chair, crossing his free arm underneath the other. "What the hell are you doing?"

A moment's pause. "What do you mean?"

"I told you to take a week off. I'm pretty sure that was you that I was talking to Wednesday afternoon, unless I'm mistaken."

"Sir, please make the call. I'm telling you, with what we've collected thus far, why wouldn't they have been coming here for a pre-emptive strike?"

He leaned forward onto his desk. "You're telling me that someone purposely drove their mile long ship into an asteroid so that they could covertly land a saboteur that suddenly has it out for you specifically?" He sighed. "Brian, hang up and head to the Bahamas and leave us to cover for you until you get back next week. I want to see pictures of clear water and boats. Have fun." He hung up and set the receiver back onto the sleek station and went back to work.

* * *

Three-and-a-half hours had passed as Agent Strauss pulled up to the front gate of Eglin Air Force Base and stopped near the visitor's center. Stepping out, he walked quickly up to the glass door and pulled it open, then walked inside where two security policemen in fatigues stood, web gear and leather weapon's belt cleanly cutting across the mottled field covering their bodies.

"What can I do for you, sir," the first asked as Brian produced his wallet and flashed his badge.

"I need clearance to get on base." He explained, showing them his driver's license, knowing that with the Homeland Security Act in affect, he would have to get a pass just like everyone else in this circumstance. Brown eyes watched as the sergeant filled in the next line on the clipboard, then handed him a card to place on his dashboard. "Thanks."

"Yes, sir. Do you have any weapons that need to be cleared?"

"Yeah," he turned and revealed his tightly hugging pistol in it's belly holster.

"The sergeant at the gate will need to inspect the car also."

"I know," he nodded, turned and headed back to his Grand Marquis. After the inspection at the sandbagged gate, he passed the Humvee topped with a fifty calibre machine gun and drove straight to the OSI office. Stepping inside, he noticed the clean office. Though more cramped, he recognized the business-like atmosphere that reminded him of their own Tampa office.

"Can I help you," an agent asked from his left, stepping out from a modest office. White shirt neatly pressed, the modest tie fell from beneath a strong jaw and rounded head capped by a dark flattop.

"Agent Brian Strauss, FBI," he introduced. "I've come in need of your assistance."

"Absolutely," he straightened. "William Andersley. Come on in," he motioned into his office and stepped aside.

* * *

Pulling off to onto the shoulder, Chris noticed the gate up ahead, ending the long road that they had traveled, following the agent in hopes of finding out what was going on.

"We're not going to be able to get in there without being signed on," Tom mentioned.

Chris nodded. "I know." He glanced down to his watch. '15:28pm'. It would be late before they would get back to the camp, they might as well stick around. "Turn around and head to that Wendy's, we'll wait to see if he comes back out." He also knew that the guns that they had hidden under their seats wouldn't be welcome either.

"Alright," Tom mentioned as he turned the black leather steering wheel and headed towards the restaurant less than fifty yards away. Once there, they headed in and ordered dinner, then sat near the window in hopes that the dark grey car would surface again soon.

Finishing the sandwich, blue eyes watched as traffic passed from the base, but no sign of the agent as Chris leaned on the table.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently as everyone in the sitting area stopped, conversation hushed as all eyes looked through the glass covered front to soon see the rising dark plume that soon billowed into the sparsely clouded sky.

"Holy s**t," Chris muttered as he rose. "Tom, let's go."

"Alright," his friend stated as they moved towards the door. "What do you think happened?"

"I have no idea but, I think our friend may be nearby."

Blue-green eyes turned to study him closer. "What friend?"

Chris avoided the question as they both got back into the Mustang and closed the door. He watched across towards the base as the cloud rose and began heading southeast. His adrenaline pumped as he realized that they were at war already as Tom backed out from the parking lot and headed around the small brick building to approach the highway. Leaning over, Chris reached for his pistol to find it missing. Frantically, his arm pushed further under his seat to no avail.

"Looking for these," the soft female voice asked from the back seat. A visitor that neither had noticed when they got in as Chris rose and gazed back into the empty back seat, then to Tom. "Who said that?"

"I did," the unseen female returned as both men turned to scan to it's source. "Drive," she stressed as they heard one of the pistols' chamber a round.

Page 13

Houston, Texas. 21:17pm. CST

Randall sat in the briefing room, stunned as continued reports came in of sensor stations around the world being destroyed without any ideas on who or why. Staring at the map oriented on the far wall, red blips atop the station names filled his mind with wonder as various other department heads speculated on substitutes.

"The Cape should be put on full alert," Saami Orlon stated from his right.

"The governor of Florida has already sent the National Guard there," Randall informed. "I talked to him just moments ago." He returned tired eyes to the far end of the polished, grey table, "Sarah, anyone hear from Chile yet?"

Grey haired, the veteran executive shook her head. "No, not yet. I've got my secretary trying to get through to them as we speak. Anything from Washington that could shed some light on what we're dealing with?"

"Nothing concrete although, most of the military sites have suffered also. We still have our mobile units available however. Right now we need to find out what was used and how it got into the sites. Pore over security files from their cameras and whatever else you can think of." He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "If we're blinded to space, anyone could pay us another visit without warning."

Washington, D.C. 23:44pm. EST

Within the Oval Office, the president sat with his top advisors and contemplated their situation.

"Sir," General Hopkins, Secretary of Defense lowered his cell phone as green eyes gazed to the Commander in Chief. "Contact with Cheyenne Mountain has been cut off. We should get you to your jet right away."

Without allowing a response, secret service agents rushed to the aged president and helped him up, then jogged towards the exit which led them to the back lawn and awaiting helicopter.

"Take us to DEFCOM Two, General," he stated as he climbed the short stair, passing two saluting Marines.

"Yes, sir." Hopkins replied, raising the cell again to relay the command.

Soon, the large Boeing jet launched into the air and was joined by four F-15's as they coursed into the night sky.

Eglin Air Force Base, Florida. 00:17am. CST

Brian awoke from his deep sleep, resting within the comfortable blankets. Hearing the soft beeping of the monitoring equipment above his head, he remembered the loud explosion and flash of light as their car approached the Deep Space Surveillance installation. His hunch was right after all. Sighing, he just wished that the director had listened to him and perhaps they could have avoided the catastrophe. Chuckling in disbelief, a swirl of emotions resurfaced out of frustration at the things that he had seen and been in the middle of the past three weeks. If he handed in his badge, he wouldn't be held accountable for the damage that he would inflict on this saboteur and murderer once he found them. Closing his eyes, he remembered his grandfather's words:

'Being a law enforcement officer means that you're going to have to deal with the worst of society every day. But, everyone can be redeemed.'

Sometimes he wondered how his mentor - a veteran of the Tampa Police Force - had managed to keep his sanity all those years. He may never know. Brian was never much of a church-going man, but he respected his grandparents that did and who was in the force when the mobsters of Ybor were in their heyday. Someone was definitely looking out for him.

Tapping the button on the plastic railing to his right, he turned on the television and found a repeat of the local news broadcast earlier.

"...had stated the explosion was the work of terrorist cells within the United States and have claimed responsibility for the attacks on many installations across the country. We've received confirmation that sensors and radar sites belonging to the military and NASA have been destroyed or damaged enough to cause months of repair. This heinous act would limit our ability to combat nuclear missiles entering our airspace," the anchor explained as he stood near a fence, his background filled with a tower of black smoke. "Shortly after, a White House spokesman revealed groups linked to Al Qaeda have been within our borders for some time and FBI agents are now hunting them down in cooperation with local law enforcement and other government agencies. Military units have been put on alert that can replace these installations and still combat those threats."

Brian listened intently, knowing full well that this story was covering the truth to keep the public at large from knowing that they had been visited by some alien who was bent on bringing their home to its knees. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't help laying here. Turning off the only light to the quiet room, he pushed himself up, bound to the reclined bed by tubes and thin probes in his arms as he held onto the bandages around his upper chest where he awesomed he collided with the front seat and door as the car rolled.

Light spilled into the room as the door opened revealing the shapely nurse as she entered. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have to get back to work," he tried to explain, sitting up stiffly as the aches from his bruised ribs kept him in check.

"Not right now you don't. Lay back and rest. You'll be released when you're healthy enough."

He grinned, knowing that he was in no condition to argue. Maybe tomorrow.

Page 14

Eglin Air Force Base, Florida. 09:22am. CST

Daylight poured in through the open window as Brian buttoned up his blue denim shirt. Covering his still bruised ribs, he looked up as the door opened revealing an attractive agent in a dark grey suit whose badge clung to her belt.

"Good morning, Agent Strauss. I'm Michelle Hutchinson, your new partner," she grinned.

Brian froze as he stared at the agent, her light brown hair collected in a tight bun at the rear of her head. Hazel-green eyes shone from her smooth features and rounded face.

"Director Farrior said there might be some initial problems but, I assure you..."

"Nice to have you along," he cut in, smiling away his surprise. "How long have you been with the Bureau?"

"Seven years. I just transferred from the Seattle office, just in time apparently to help out down here."

He nodded and finished dressing, then collected his pistol. "Anything new that I need to be informed of?"

"They found the green Camaro in the swamp not two miles from here," she informed as he moved towards the door.

"Any body nearby?" He asked as he led her from the room, back in business mode again.

"No. The officer that found it stated that it looked like it was intentionally dumped there before the thief escaped on foot. There's a residential area not far southwest of the woods and several have reported stolen vehicles. We've got local law enforcement on those right now as well as a forensic team on the vehicle."

"Alright," he wondered if they weren't chasing their tails with that effort though. "I don't think the one we're after needs a car but, it's worth a try." He noticed interested nurses perk up as they passed and headed towards the elevator.

"Why not?"

He turned to her as they waited. "I think the one we're hunting has some unique abilities. They'd only be using a car to play with us."

Her brow furrowed as hands went to her hips. "Perhaps you can fill me in then. I was only told that we had a kidnapper and murderer on our hands, not some freak of nature."

Brian grinned as the door finally slid open. "I honestly don't know what they are yet but, I'm trying to prepare myself," he mused as they entered the confining room and pushed the button for the ground floor.

"Nothing was found in the pod? No evidence of anyone or thing?"

He shook his head, intentionally forgetting the necklace for the time being. "Anything new on what was used to destroy the hangar here?"

"I heard thermite plasma mentioned and traces of something else that the chemists from the Center couldn't identify. Nothing more than that so far," she informed as the door slid open, allowing the couple to exit and head through the lobby towards the front doors. Passing waiting patients and their family, they suspended conversation as Brian mentally added the new information which was becoming taxing.

Outside, he slowed and allowed her to lead to the car. Taking out his cell phone, he speed dialed the director.

"Farrior," the response.

"Sir, it's Strauss."

"Good to have you back. How you feeling?"

"Fine, thanks. Ready to get back at it. I was just talking to Hutchinson and she mentioned the latest."

"Alright. I need you to continue the hunt. Sorry I don't have anything new other than the location of the Camaro but, I do have a missing-persons on two men who were also friends of his. McCutcheon and a Shires seen in a red Mustang leaving Perry..."

"Yeah, I know them. How long have they been missing," he stopped as his new partner approached the driver's side of his grey sedan.

"Three days now. I've got law enforcement keeping an eye out for the Mustang, I'll keep you informed as soon as I hear anything."

"Great," he continued on towards his car. "I guess this means that it's okay for me not to be on vacation then," he grinned.

A slight chuckle confirmed it. "If you need anything with this, keep me posted. The Director of Homeland Security has issued a 'Red' so everyone's on alert right now."

Brian nodded. "Alright. Catch you later, Chief." He closed the phone and headed around the front of the car towards the driver's side.

"I got it," she motioned to his left as he looked up.

"What. No, I'll drive."

"With bruised ribs? Right, get in," she pointed to the passenger side as she slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. He stood for a moment and stared at her as she turned the ignition, then sat back. Relenting, he moved to the other side and got in. "This will give you more time to formulate this criminal's next move."

He nodded quietly, pulling over the seatbelt gingerly and winced.

"Not used to needing help, I take it," she ribbed as she guided the car from the parking lot.

"Once in a while I don't mind. Just a lot's been going on lately."

"I heard about your partner," she mentioned as they passed dorms and the BX.

"Yeah," he replied quietly, brown eyes turning towards the right as they passed the Airman's Club and realized how much he could use Terry's help right now. He was actually glad to be out of Tampa for a while; absence gave him a chance to get his head straight again.

"You ever had to shoot anyone?"

He turned back towards his new partner as they headed towards the front gate. "Several times, why?"

Michelle shrugged. "Not easy taking a life, but sometimes it's necessary."

"Unfortunately. I take it that's why you left Seattle."

Grinning, she glanced over to him. "You're fairly intuitive for a guy."

He chuckled. "Comes with the territory and years of psychology - practical and schooling," he turned his attention back to the road.

"Experience teaches more than any book can. That's where I've learned three-quarters of my trade."

"How true." He was happy that he wasn't training someone while trying to find his friend's killer. He only hoped that a clue would present itself before it was too late.

Page 15

Air Force One. 03:42am. CST

Through the quiet, darkened halls, hurried footsteps padded to the private bedroom door aboard the presidential jet. Lightly knocking as he passed two secret servicemen, he opened the door and headed inside.

"Mister President," he called out as he approached the side of the bed, then lightly touched the sleeping Commander-In-Chief on the shoulder. "Mister President," he repeated a bit louder.

"What," the sleepy reply as the older Navy veteran looked up.

"There's been a volcanic eruption in Yellowstone," the advisor informed as he straightened and backed. "Three to be exact. The USGS is projecting a blanket area of several million square miles."

Sitting up in disbelief, the president stared dumbly for a moment. "My God," he whispered, then threw the covers back and began to get dressed. As they waited, he leaned over and pulled up the cover to the small window and gazed out into the night sky. "Where are we now?"

"About thirty-five miles northeast of Saint Louis. Prevailing winds are carrying most of the ash east by southeast so the pilot's taking us towards Canada."

He sighed, "When will this madness end?" he straightened and turned. "Have all emergency crews begin assisting the Red Cross and call the governors in the states that are in the pathway, we've got to get them prepared."

"Right away."

Fort Walton Beach, Florida. 06:49am. CST

Brian awoke to the sounds of neighboring rooms emptying of guests as they rolled their suitcases along the cement sidewalk, rumbling as they passed his room. No rest for the weary, he thought. His partner took the room beside his the night before and he had to admit, it was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of again. It also didn't hurt that she was attractive either. As he lay there, contemplating whether or not to get up, he heard her door open and soon, the rap of metal.

"Hold on," he yelled as he got up and moved through the dark room to the entrance, then unlocked the bolt and opened it to see Michelle already dressed. "What's up?"

"We have to go," she motioned towards the car sitting patiently not seven feet behind her. "The lab will have your results on the Chevy in ten minutes."

"Morning person, I take it," he grinned wryly, turned and headed to his clothes still resting in the chair to his left.

"Years of being woken up before dawn, working out and doing chores before school. Habit," she leaned in, supporting herself on the frame and doorknob.

"Grow up on a farm?"

"No," she shook her head then turned and looked back out into the parking lot where a car started, casting light into his window. He sat and pulled on his shoes, then rose and scanned the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Once satisfied, he followed her out into the brisk morning as dawn announced a new day. As he headed to the passenger side door, his cell phone rang. Picking it up, he recognized the office's number.

"Strauss," he answered as he opened the door and sat.

"Brian, it's Rich. We've had a volcano eruption in Yellowstone and the DNI is calling for all offices to assist. Farrior stated that you were on call so I thought I'd give you the heads-up."

He sat stunned at the news, door still hanging open. "Yellowstone? I didn't know there was a volcano there."

"Guess you never watched National Geographic then," he joked. "We'll catch you later."

"Take care," he returned quietly, then closed the phone.

"What?" Michelle asked as he closed the door.

He shook his head. "Yellowstone just erupted. We've been given leave to keep on this investigation but, we'll be on call if they need us."

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know yet." He still couldn't believe the chain of events. As they drove towards the police station and lab, he noticed the morning traffic. "There are a lot of silos in Nebraska and Montana," he mused aloud.

"I've heard of a few. What are you getting at?"

"Sensor stations are down except for our mobile sites the Army has. NORAD has been taken out so in effect we're blind to space right now. What better way to focus attention from key sites if everyone's at half-staff?" It was even sounding far-fetched to him as the words escaped his mouth. "How in the world could someone make a volcano erupt?"

She chuckled. "You telling me our alien found a way?"

He eyed her, "I realize how that sounds. But, they've been doing a helluva job thus far."

"We've been tasked with finding them, how do we do that? Where would be their next target?"

"The President." Brown eyes turned towards the array of tail lights before them.

"Why him?"

"Cut off the head, the body dies."

"Not here. Our system is geared to fill in the blank spots no matter what."

"That was my first thought although, you'd be amazed how choatic things can get when services are shut off. I was in New Orleans after Katrina left her mark. I never want to live through something like that again."

They continued on to the police station and once inside, Brian grabbed a cup of coffee as they headed towards the lab. White walls and tile floors were atypical as he stepped into the room full of equipment and shelves. Turning right, he noticed three men and a woman leaning over a microscope. One turned and Brian grinned.

"Agent Strauss. I heard you found something."

"Yeah," his curly, grey hair piled atop the heavy jowled smile and pale skin denoted someone who spent too much time in the lab. "Hairs that we've matched to your missing person were found in the back seat," he explained with a southern drawl. "No other sign of the driver though, which we thought was odd. We found no fingerprints, hair or evidence of any kind."

Brian nodded. "So, a ghost drove the car there and dumped it?"

He grinned. "Or something."

"Outstanding." He gathered copies of their report and noticed that his partner had disappeared. As he exited the lab, he noticed her approaching from the main lobby. "Where'd you go?"

"Asked to see if there were any reports of the missing Mustang."

"And?"

She held up a slip of paper. "Got an address."

Page 16

Fort Walton Beach, Florida. 09:07am. CST

After a short breakfast, Brian allowed Michelle to continue driving as his ribs were still a bit tender. Shifting and turning wasn't as fun as it used to be, he thought, grinning to himself.

"What's so funny," she asked as their surroundings on the lonely, two-lane road became lined with tall pine and thick underbrush.

He shook his head. "I remember the stories that my grandfather told me when I was a kid about being in the police force back in the day when the mobsters owned half of the town. He made it sound like some Saturday serial where the good guys always won in the end, no matter how many times they got their ass kicked."

"Too bad reality is a bit different, huh?"

Brown eyes turned to her as the mood softened. "How true. But, it made for quite an adventure when I was growing up. Also the reason that I strove to be in the Bureau. After all these years I've found you get dirty no matter what unit or group you're in. The end result is the same, make sure you come home alive."

"We have more in common than I thought."

He grinned along with her, noticing that her hidden story must run deep as she remained quiet. He gazed down to the map and realized that their target wasn't much farther. "Why didn't the police pick up the car? Did they say anything about that?"

"No," she shook her head. "They knew that we were on it and left it alone. The sergeant mentioned that a car is sitting nearby making sure they don't leave."

He imagined that they would have to be sitting in the treeline as there seemed to be no discreet hiding places otherwise. Soon, they turned right into a dirt road whose canopy drive seemed to go on for some distance. "Stop in here, we don't want them to hear the car in case someone is home."

"Alright," she drove into the grass and turned off the ignition.

Brian figured that their quarry would probably have arranged for an escape route but, hopefully he could at least find the three missing men. Opening the door, he stepped out and kept an eye down the lonely road whose only sounds were the gentle breeze through the pine needles above and occasional call of a bird deep within the shadows. Pulling out his pistol, he moved to the left and walked along the treeline until finally seeing the rickety home whose wooden walls had gone grey with age as well as the barn farther to the right and facing the drive more directly. As he reached the last tree he crouched quietly into the tall grass and scanned the two darkened windows for any sign of life within. Blowing eerily, the tattered curtains swayed like ghosts warning him to stay away.

He turned to Michelle behind him. "We'll move through the woods around to the barn and clear that first," he whispered and she nodded. Backing out, he led into the thick forest, moving northward and around, trying to keep the house within sight until they finally reached the back of the barn. Being covered from the house, he crept up across the short clearing to arrive near the open doorway which cut into the two large doors who nearly commanded the rear wall. Gun up, he scanned as he 'cut the pie' into the darkened interior filled with rusted and dust covered farm equipment. Once to the opposite side, he moved in, stepping over the piled wood as Michelle followed him in, covering the opposite arc with her own pistol. Maneuvering around an older, rust colored tractor, he noticed the Mustang's wheels beneath a large, bluish green tarp. Moving up, he kept his gun pointed to the front door, closed to the daylight. He crouched down and pulled up the tarp, taking a quick glance inside to see it's darkened, quiet interior.
That accomplished, he continued up to the front door and slowly pushed the inset door open. As they cleared the yard to the house, he led her up to the nearest corner and then to the rear porch. Up the stairs, he moved to the right of the equally delapidated screen door as Michelle took the left. Nodding to her, he pulled the door open and moved in, gun at the ready as he cleared the kitchen and slowly moved towards the entryway into the living room. Rats scurried from sight as he ducked below large cobwebs. Suddenly, a sharp thud to the side of his head as stars filled his eyes...

* * *

He awoke tied to a chair as the throbbing in his right temple made him realize that he had been here before. Slowly opening his eyes, he could smell the dank sweat and putrid stench of human waste mixed with moldy wood and dust. Dimly lit, the room's far walls were lost in shadow as he blinked and looked around until noticing Michelle sitting across from him. Her light brown hair now flowed down her back but where hazel green eyes had once been, now an eerie glow grabbed his very soul as he also noticed the intricate, dark tattoos that rose from her forehead and disappeared beneath strands of hair. Her grey suit was now replaced by a longer, black shirt and pants along with black greaves which started from elbow and knee and ended with plated hand and foot guards.

"Good morning," she greeted coldly. "How'd you sleep?"

Still stunned, he couldn't find the words until the flashes of Terry and his dog returned and focussed his resolve. "Why have you done this? What do you want?"

A wry grin creased her nearly greyish toned skin. "I want to be left alone. You said it yourself, the goal at the end of the day is to make it home alive, remember?"

"You could've stayed in the shadows and no one would've found you. I had no idea until finding the necklace and that could've been dropped in there long before and forgotten." He tried to keep his anger in check knowing that arguing would profit him nothing in the end.

"That necklace was mine, not yours," she leaned forward, eyes glowing brighter with each word.

He nodded. "You realize that sooner or later someone will come out here when I don't call in."

She grinned broader. "Why? The cops weren't the ones who gave me this address in the first place. There's no one who knows where you are right now." Rising, she stepped forward. "If I were an animal, none of you would still be alive," she stated, turned and headed up the stairs. As he heard her ascend up to the doorway which led into the main house, he realized that the other three were in here with him. Light from the opened door as she exited picked out their apparently sleeping forms in the distance. He had to figure out a way to get them out, he thought as the closing door again left him in the dim light that peeked through the small, half-covered window behind him. Turning, he noticed the shelves stacked with a mix of old lamps, bottles and tools and the window whose corner was the only source of daylight and freedom. He glanced back to them.

"You guys alright," he called out with no response. He could hear their quiet breathing - probably drugged. Looking down, he noticed the heavy-duty rope that he was tied with, his waist as well as both arms and legs bound to the metal chair and would take some doing to get free of. Soon, the door at the top of the stairs reopened and their host descended again, boots hitting the wooden stairs as she approached with a plate and set it on his lap, then retreated back to the lower stair and sat down.

"I appreciate the breakfast but, how am I supposed to eat?"

She moved the fingers on her left hand and he felt his bonds loosen until he removed his hands in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Eat," she directed as he slowly stretched his sore shoulders. It smelled good anyway as he looked down to the scrambled eggs and toast. Confusedly, brown eyes returned to his captor. "This isn't the normal behavior of a kidnapper, you know."

"What about me is normal?"

He nodded, "You got a point". Gladly accepting the chance to remain strong, he ate hungrily with his fingers as she was smart enough not to give him a potential weapon. Once done, he noticed her eyes had studied him the entire time and wondered what else she could do. "What is your real name?"

Leaning forward on her thighs, she sighed. "I don't remember," she motioned to his plate. "You done?"

Brian was hoping for more time before she put him to sleep along with the other guests. "Water?" Noting her gaze, he was realizing he couldn't push his luck too far as he then motioned to the other three. "You know, lack of sanitation and hygiene is going to kill them eventually. That would hamper your bargaining opportunities in the future if you want our government to allow you a lighter sentence."

"It didn't kill me," she rose suddenly and approached. "As far as my sentence, your government can't do anything to me that I don't allow," her right hand extended and the plate quickly glided through the space between them and to her. "There's one coming who is to be feared with technology that would be able to reduce your world to the stone age, so keep your empty threats to yourself."

Page 17

Brian sat wondering how to get them all out of this mess, his hands returned to their previous position behind his back and tied without her ever nearing him. He had seen such things in movies before, but never witnessed it for himself. If she had a master, then they were in trouble. But, enough guns pointed at someone, one bullet would eventually get through.
Soon, he found himself dozing off as night fell. She had been gone for some time after tending to the other three. Brian had no idea how she was keeping them alive as they hadn't awoken the whole day.

His dreams centered around a confusing mix of the past and potential future with people he had known guiding him towards an unknown destination that he never reached as a slight movement woke him to another day. Stiff, his body cried to move as he winced and tried to shift as best as he could until noticing the large, metal tub in the center of the floor, not five feet from him. As he lit up, the rope around him mysteriously began unraveling itself and he looked up to see her sitting on the stairs. He wondered what was going on as his frustration turned to nervousness.

"You wanted to take a bath and no doubt need to use the toilet," she motioned to his right and he noticed that the pile of boxes had been removed revealing a semi-private latrine. "I grabbed your pack for the spare clothes. Don't bother looking for your gun or cell phone."

He stretched his legs, nearly numb from lack of use and took a few moments to get the blood circulating again. "What are you planning on doing with us?"

Orange glowing corneas stared back. "I hadn't gotten that far yet. What should I do with you?"

He motioned to the sleeping trio. "Let them go, you've got me and I'm worth a lot more."

A grin rose on her face. "Become that hero from the Saturday serial? That only goes to show that you have no idea who these guys are then."

He straightened as he tried to stand, right hand supporting his weight on the back of the chair as his brow furrowed. "Who are they?"

"They have a lot of knowledge about us and where I come from," she glanced down and to her right. "My great-uncle was right, the Force does work in mysterious ways."

Curiousity piqued, he glanced to them also, still sleeping on the dirty mattresses in the far corner.

"You better take advantage of my rare hospitality," she motioned to the facilities again which he moved to. Once done, he shuffled to the tub filled with clear water and began undressing, then glanced up to her.

"You mind giving me a moment here?"

"You shy? Brian, I never took you for the modest type," she smiled and soon the grin melted. "Get to it, they have to bathe also before the water gets cold."

He faced her more squarely. "You're going to sell us to him?"

"Are you crazy? He doesn't care about you or I, only that his orders are carried out," she pointed to the tub again. "Get in or I'll put you in. Hurry up."

* * *

Once he finished and changed, Brian noted the first of the trio stir and push himself up, sneezing which echoed dully in the close confines. He sat back down on the padded chair as she watched Dan turn and sit up, looking around the room until seeing him.

"Clean up," she instructed. "I'll be back." Standing, she turned and headed upstairs, closing the door behind her.

Brian watched as the thinner man, balding brown hair and thick beard bathed. "How you feeling?" he asked, leaning over.

"I'm fine," he nodded. "Just ready for a change of scenery."

"Don't worry, I'm going to get us out of here."

He chuckled. "Only if she lets us leave," he glanced up to the top landing. "You know she can read your thoughts," he gazed back to the stunned agent.

"What?"

Rising, he dried off and got dressed. "Welcome to the world of the Sith."

Brian recognized the name but, sat in quiet disbelief. "I guess I shouldn't be totally surprised. She's quite unique. What else can she do?"

He pulled on his shirt. "I don't know everything but, I have a feeling that she's been well trained. How long you been here?"

"Only a couple of days, I think. How are they doing?" he motioned to Chris and Tom.

Dan shrugged, "Well. They tried to jump her one afternoon while she was bringing down dinner and she nearly killed Tom," he revealed quietly. "I tried to warn them, but they wouldn't listen."

"Survival instincts kick in," Brian began. "What do you know about her thus far?"

"She doesn't talk much about herself. I have a feeling that the Order that she's a part of tends to train their students with a combination of pain and fear as well as book study. I know she's very capable with her lightsaber."

Leaning forward, Brian wasn't sure he caught the last part. "Lightsaber? You serious?"

Dan nodded. "You ever watch the Star Wars movies?"

"I saw one or two, yeah," his eyes gravitated upward to the distant door as light eeked from underneath. "She stated that you knew a lot about where she comes from, how's that possible?"

"I don't know. She didn't mention that."

He nodded and gazed back to the small window to his left. If he created a distraction, maybe he could get them out. He was beginning to doubt his chances now as he heard Chris' familiar voice.

"Still here, I see," he stated sleepily.

"Hotel Califormia," Dan grinned as Brian watched the remaining hostages rise and clean up. He scoured the room with his eyes and then rose to study a pair of broom handles.

"Already tried that," Tom stated.

Turning, he noticed that the two he had met at the hunting camp had lost a considerable amount of weight since he had seen them last. Understandable, she was doing just enough to keep them alive, but why? "You two talked to our host at all?"

"No," Tom stated as Chris's blue eyes held a simmering hatred as he quietly walked back over to his bunk and sat with back against the cold, stone wall. "She's not the talkative type."

"We need to keep our heads about us. Arguing or giving her attitude is only going to make this situation worse," he instructed as he moved to the opposite side of the room, still finding little to work with.

"You're with the FBI, right," Tom asked. "Won't they come looking for you soon?"

"Possibly but, I've recently found out that the communication that I thought I had wasn't relayed. But don't worry, we're going to survive this." He moved to the window and gazed out through the dirt covered glass into the overgrown yard and noticed the barn to the left. Had the house been bigger, there may have been a better chance that they could escape without being seen but, he had no idea where she was right now. He couldn't risk getting them all cut down.

"I'd actually like to get to talk to her more," Dan stated which garnered everyone's attention.

"You don't want to get home," Tom asked. "I certainly don't want to rot down here and I know Chris wants to get back to his family too."

"Her master is on his way which means that a cave or right here is much safer than Tampa or any town. We're on the brink of war and she's the only link we have to possibly ending it before it begins."

Brian studied the tall man for a moment. "You're playing a dangerous game, friend." He squared on his fellow inmate. "What do you hope to gain allying yourself with the enemy?"

"I'm not saying join them. She's been through a lot and I think she's looking for a way out already," he shrugged. "Just my impression."

He sighed, placing his hands on his hips. To escape may be along that road which he had the most training of all of them. He grated inside at the thought of being in the presence of the one that coldly watched his friend die and now trying to befriend her. That would take more courage than shooting her, he realized but, if that was the only way. "Alright. We'll try it your way for now but, if it doesn't work, we move to plan B." Of course, he still had to work on that one also.

"What's plan B?" Tom queried.

"Still working on the details," he stated as the door creaked open and they heard her boots hit the landing and begin to descend the stairs. He moved back to his chair and sat down, still trying to get his legs back as she stopped at the middle of the staircase. From her hands, the plates floated down to each of them with bottles of water. He accepted his and began eating as she sat down also.

As they ate, she gazed down to Chris who only glared back and Brian knew there was potential trouble brewing.

"You may wish to eat something if your escape attempt is to be successful," she stated. "Be a long run on an empty stomach."

Brian perked up, forgetting that he had been warned that she could read minds. He studied the blue eyes that shot daggers back at her in return. "Chris, she's right. You have to keep up your strength." Tom moved to the unattended plate and moved it closer to his friend who soon picked it up and ate but Brian knew this situation could boil over at any moment.

Page 18

Tampa, Florida. 14:38pm. EST

George walked back towards the breakroom as the morning hadn't ended since five a.m. and without lunch he was beginning to get hungry. As he moved into the large room filled with counters and a sink lining the two far walls, tables, a refrigerator and microwave, he noticed his deputy director as Cory turned.

"Any word from Strauss yet?"

Cory shook his head while taking a bite of his sandwich. "No, I thought he may have called you," he explained with a mouth full of food.

"Not a word. It's been four days," he explained as he moved to the refrigerator and opened the door. "I'm starting to get worried about him."

"I'll call the Jacksonville office and see if they can send someone. That's their territory anyway."

George nodded as he pulled out his salad and moved to the nearest table. "We need to have them form a response team to be ready."

* * *

Brian sat in his chair as his mind wandered. The trio was sleeping again, it was as if they were programmed once their meal was consumed. He had never seen anything like it before. As the hours ticked by, she finally opened the door and descended again, bringing him dinner. Once accepting the floating gift, he watched as she moved to the trio and crouched over them, ignoring him completely. No longer tied to his chair he could make a play for her while she was distracted.

"You do and I'll show you the real meaning of pain," her voice stated from the shadows.

Changing his mind to go blank, he ate until she finally rose and reclaimed her usual spot on the steps.

"How long did it take for you to learn your trade," he finally asked.

"Years. Much longer than it took for you to become an agent." He noticed her more relaxed tone as she stared at the tub. "It started once I turned five actually and it didn't end until a year ago."

Brian looked into the mature face. "Must've been hard." She had to be at least twenty now, he thought.

"Nineteen," she corrected as her eyes rose back to him. "I know what you're trying to do by the way. It's only natural for someone to want to get back to what's comfortable. A place they know they have control of their lives instead of it being dictated to them."

He grinned as thick layers began to unfold. "Where is that for you?"

Quietly eyeing him, she soon looked away. "I don't have a home any more. It's usually wherever I lay my head now." Glancing back to him. "Very similar to you, isn't it?"

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean? I have a home."

She grinned. "You have a place that you rest, not a home. That was taken away after you got divorced."

Brian felt his discomfort level rising as he resumed eating, distracting himself from her gaze.

"It's amazing that a person can be a monster in one society's eyes and hero in another. Don't you think?"

"Depends on their actions," Brian felt the open door to a different room and jumped in. "No one admires someone who commits genocide. I don't care where you're from."

"You don't know the one's I serve. Destroying worlds is what they're good at and all they revel in, live for or dream of. Becuma has made his name by bringing worlds to heel, one way or another."

"So, are you the black sheep of that family?"

She grinned. "I am now."

"So, you're dead either way," he admitted sympathetically.

"No," she shook her head. "I can survive much easier than you can. What they didn't teach me, I stole. I'm beginning to think that I was sent on this mission to keep me out of the archives. They jealousy protect their history and knowledge."

He finished the last bite and set the plate on the floor and picked up the water bottle. "How did you take out all those installations without being seen?"

Cocking her head to the side, "What installations?"

"All the sensor stations and the hangar on Eglin. That was you, right?"

"I have no memory of anything after the fight on board the Strehaia and my escape. I only just recently awoke before I met you."

Brian's eyes widened. "What? You're pulling my leg, right? There was only one of those pods found of the wreckage that hit the Earth. Were you alone on that pod or not?"

"Yeah, just me. Once the asteroid hit the ship, I knew it was only a matter of time before we would all perish."

"How many were on board?"

"Three thousand crew and pilots as well as forty-five hundred troops. Had that idiot Gaeven not been arguing with me, we never would've been seen. Although, I guess it was lucky for you that he was incompetent. Otherwise, you'd be fighting much more than me right now."

"How many more on board could do what you can do?"

"None. We were all Sith but only I was trained in the arts."

"So, it had to have been you that hit those installations."

Her hands went wide in confusion. "I don't know. There have been a lot of blank spots in my memory lately."

Raising the bottle, he drank and nearly emptied it on the first run. "How can I help you," he choked as the words escaped him, knowing that he had to at least try.

"By not patronizing me for one," her eyes narrowed. "I know you want to put a bullet in my brain for what happened to your friend and your dog so, don't sit there and try to make me believe that you're suddenly on my side. Admit it."

He felt the confusing mix of emotions but years of training was quickly taking over. "You're right. I did want to kill you for what you've done and no one would care how or why." Gathering his thoughts, he allowed the anger and frustration to pass. "But, if what you say about your master is correct, I'm going to need your help to defeat him or at least convince those in charge to listen. Otherwise, we're all dead."

Page 19

She finished cooking another breakfast for herself and Brian, wondering how long she could keep up the charade. She had never been diagnosed with being bipolar before, but was now beginning to wonder. No peace could be had along with lack of sleep. Keeping the images out of her head was easier when she only meditated instead but, the lack of rest was beginning to tell. Picking up the plate, she carried it and the water to the door and concentrated, opening it with her mind and heading downstairs where he waited, awake only several minutes before. Padding to her usual spot, she levitated the plate and water to him and then sat down.

"How'd you sleep," he asked as he sat and began to eat.

"I don't sleep much," she wrung her hands, hoping for a change of subject already. "How about you?"

"Once I get the rats to stay on their side of the room, fairly well."

She nodded. "They steer clear of me. Lucky for them."

"No kidding." He straightened after a sip of water. "Soon, there's going to be a unit in black surrounding this place. You know that, right?"

Her instincts began to charge her, tingling her spine. "Let them come, I've been needing some exercise."

Brown eyes studied her for a moment and she was beginning to see a glimmer of understanding now. "I'd rather you didn't get hurt. You may not believe that, especially coming from me, but I'm serious. If you come out with me, I can make sure that you're kept safe. Like you said, there's bigger fish to fry and if you help..."

"Once he finds out that I'm not finishing my mission, me and anyone around me will be pounded from orbit," she sighed. "I've already determined what I'm going to do with you so, eat up," she turned to the sleeping trio and concentrated, touching their minds and began reversing the parasite now resting within their upper lumbar region. With a touch of pressure, she killed each so that they were free from it's commands, then relaxed.

"...Did you hear anything I just said?" Brian asked quietly as she turned to him.

"No, what?"

"What are you planning to do?"

She straightened, determination giving her more strength. "I'm going to fix it." Standing, she grinned as she reached into her pocket and grabbed both set of keys. "Your car is in the barn behind theirs. Head back to your office in Tampa and tell them everything. Good luck." She tossed him the keys as the other three stirred from their hibernation, turned and headed up the stairs.

"Wait a second," Brian stood and approached the bottom of the stairs as she turned from the landing. "You can't do this alone. I'm weapons trained and you could use some backup."

"Zhr'te plies, niy tro'plima."

His brow furrowed. "What's that mean?"

"Exactly. Most of my trip to my master will be through guards and officers and the minute you're seen as an outsider, you're dead. And I couldn't label you as my slave," she admitted, feeling some compassion finally crack through the hardened shell borne of hatred, anger and fear. "By the way, I'm sorry about Terry and your dog," she turned and headed into the house. With each step, her body blended into the background and soon disappeared.

* * *

Brian jogged up the stairs, "Wait a second," he yelled. Upon reaching the doorway, he scanned the kitchen and living room. Hearing nothing but the soft rain hitting the tin roof, he realized that she was gone. Sighing, he straightened and turned back into the stairway. "You guys alright?"

"Where's the b**ch," Chris asked.

"She's gone. We'll get you guys cleaned up and to the nearest hospital," he began as he descended the steps. "I want to make sure nothing long term has been done," he stated concernedly as he wondered where she had gone. As they woke up, he moved to his pack and unzipped the top. Rummaging through his clothes, he found his gun and cell phone, right where she said they weren't. Picking up the phone, he dialed '911' and gave them the address, then hung up.

"What happened," Tom asked as they climbed the stairs tiredly.

"She's going to try and stop her master when he arrives," he informed with skepticism, not totally sure this wasn't a suicide mission.

* * *

After the battery of tests at the hospital, Brian noticed two agents standing in the hallway. Both appeared to be in their mid-thirties and healthy, probably from the Jacksonville office, he thought.

"Alright," the doctor began as he backed. "Everything looks fine. I would ask that you remain with us until tomorrow for observation just to make sure."

"I'm fine, doc. I've been through much worse, trust me," he stepped from the examination bed and moved to his shirt. "How are the other three?"

"They're going to stay with us. Our tests found something under the skin at the base of their necks where we found an unusual insect of some sort."

Brian turned, intrigued. "I'd like a sample of one of those saved for my investigation and any lab results you have."

"I'll get the paperwork started," he nodded, then left the room which cued the agents to enter.

Extending a hand, the older of the two smiled. "Agent Todd Williams. You'd be Brian Strauss from the Tampa office?"

Brian nodded, accepting the hand. "I am."

"Glad to see you still breathing. Your director sent us to find you," he motioned to his compatriot. "This is Ty Zimmer. He's in charge of operations."

"Pleasure," serious green eyes told the veteran of someone with military background which wasn't uncommon.

"So, how'd you get away from the alien? We talked to the police that brought you in and they said there was no sign of a body," Todd stated.

He chose his words carefully knowing the sensitivity of his investigation. "It left. Just disappeared."

"Huh. Too bad, I was hoping to get a look at it," Todd mentioned dryly. "Maybe later."

Brian shrugged as he moved passed them and headed down the long, busy corridor to finally find the three others. Stepping in, he noticed that they were now finally resting peacefully. Amazing with all the sleeping they had done already although, he had no idea what pressures or stress their bodies had been put through with the introduction of the parasite. Hopefully this chapter of their lives was over and they could get back to something more normal.

Page 20

Slowly, the long black ship crept through the system using asteroids, moons and other planets to mask it's movements to the unsuspecting planet. Stopping near the asteroid belt, it rested behind the cover of large rocks and floating debris from a potential planet that never got a chance. Within the darkened bridge, a grey form of a man sat, levitating above the round, black disc which blended in with the floors plating. Short horns protruded from along his chin and from his brow, jutting like evil, yellowing teeth from his bald head. Shirtless, the strong, man-like alien concentrated, feeling the flow of energy from the untapped galaxy which would be a wealth of resources for his hunger. He could also feel the fear and uncertainty in the target civilization, causing a grin to crease his tan colored skin.

Footsteps approached and stopped behind him and he could feel the eagerness from his general to ignite another conflict.

"Derixor," Becuma's dark voice called from his meditation. "Ready the Black Hand. Find my servant and join her. I'll not be far behind once I find out what happened to her ship."

"My lord," the human bowed, turned and hurriedly exited through the blast doors behind the dark lord.

Reaching out, he could finally find the dispersed energy that the crew's bodies had left behind and the marred area where they fought and died. No one was on the planet that already had a foothold. No matter, more enjoyment for himself. Time to play.

Fort Walton Beach, Florida. 17:33pm. CST

Brian sat in the car as Todd drove to the house they had been staying in, keeping up with the facade of looking for more clues which he already knew wouldn't be available. She was already gone and he had no way of knowing where. Following them were ten well armed men spoiling for a fight in the dark blue, panel van which were all linked to a chopper pilot waiting to be called.

"You don't have to come back out here, you know," Todd mentioned as they followed the sheriff's white patrol car down the familiar two-lane road.

"No, it's alright. I'm eager to look around a bit more, see if it left anything behind." He was beginning to hate calling her that but...

"What did it look like?"

Brown eyes turned to the driver. "Glowing orange eyes, hideous thing," he lied. "Four long arms," he turned back, trying not to laugh as the sheriff turned down the dirt drive.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and our natural diseases will kill it."

"And rob Ty and his men of their war story? Perish the thought. I'm glad he can't hear you say that."

Todd laughed, then softened. "It's just that if that thing has been the cause of so many innocent lives, it's best to stop it before things get worse."

Brian nodded. "No, you're right." He just knew that if it came down to shooting her now, he wasn't sure he could do it.

"You developing feelings for Jabba?"

"Hell no. But, if we could learn something about the galaxy at large, then I'd think it would be best not to kill it."

"What the hell happened to you? You sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," he nodded defensively. "I've come too far with this to sit back now."

Soon, they arrived at the scene as rain still fell, creating a more vivid picture of greens, greys and brown. Tow trucks had already taken their cars to the station as the quartet were evacuated in ambulances earlier.
Brian stepped out and got a chill as it would be the perfect setting for a Stephen King movie. He had found more gruesome things in places just like this over the years. Two other grey sedans sat near the front porch as investigators would be scouring the house for clues and evidence for the kidnapping case which Brian knew would be on the back burner now that they were in a de facto state of war with some alien race who hadn't shown themselves yet. Not to everyone, anyway.

Ty approached Todd as Brian rounded to the sheriff who also stepped out. "Why don't we start looking in the woods for traces of it," he suggested. "Maybe we'll find something that those guys inside missed."

"Alright," the agent agreed. "Fan out and look around the barn also."

"Who used to own this place," Brian asked the sheriff who pulled up his green jacket's collar to shield himself from the drizzling rain.

"I don't know right off hand," he shrugged. "I know it's been empty for years though. Kids sometimes come out here and have parties and such."

As the sheriff continued, Brian felt a nauseating, out-of-body sensation fill his mind. Closing his eyes, he suddenly saw himself flying at high speed westward through rolling, forested hills to a small clearing and then down to his captor as she turned and eyed him. "They're coming here. Bring your men. Hurry."

Blacking out, he slumped as the sheriff caught him. "Whoa. Hold on there."

Brian's mind slowly recovered as the floating feeling ebbed away. Refocusing his eyes, he heard Todd, "Call the chopper, we'll..."

"No," he interrupted. "We've got to go," he pulled himself up, using their arms for support. "Get your men back to the van."

"We're taking you back to the hospital where you belong," Agent Williams stressed.

"There's no time," Brian stood and headed to the driver's side door as he turned to the men in dark blue and web gear. "Let's go. They're invading!"

"What?!" Todd exclaimed. "Where.."

"I'll explain on the way, get in." He yanked the door open and jumped in as the squad ran back to their van, reclaiming their seats and slamming the door home. As Brian turned over the ignition, Todd jumped in as he pulled the gear into 'D'rive and hit the accelerator. "Call Eglin," he yelled as he yanked the steering wheel to the right and nearly spun into the sheriff's car who was also trying to follow suit, mud flying from their rear tires. Tom dialed while holding on as Brian whipped around the van and sped to the main highway, blanketing the white car behind him with spatters of dark brown earth.

"Yes, sir," Todd began. "This is Agent Todd Williams with the FBI. We need to report a possible landing site.."

Brian grabbed the phone as he fishtailed to the right and sped westward, car and van in tow. "The alien was programmed to pre-empt a first strike and her commander is arriving three miles northwest from the base. I need whatever you can spare for help."

"What's your authorization," the mature voice asked.

"The DNI has declared a 'red' and I'm trying to prevent a war. Who am I speaking to?"

"Colonel Sam Wainwright, Deputy Commander of Eglin. You're sure about this?"

"Yes, sir. There isn't time to give you all the details, just get your birds in the air, Colonel, and send me whatever you can."

"I need to know what we're dealing with before I can assemble a team."

Frustration was building as he pushed the car as fast as it would go. "An alien invasion could be stopped today. Go from there, Colonel. I'll have thirteen agents on site as well as one law enforcement officer and perhaps one other," he was hoping they didn't shoot her by mistake but, he'd jump off that bridge when he came to it. "I need whatever you can spare as soon as possible."

"Alright." Brian shut off the phone and tossed it back to Todd.

"What's going on? What happened to you?"

"I don't know. She contacted me and warned me of the invasion," he swerved around a silver Dodge truck as the sheriff's red and blue lights lit up the grey sky behind him.

"She? So there's more to this story than you've told me. I think now's a good time, whattya think?"

Realizing his mistake, he sighed. "She's the one that's helped me solve this part of the case. Somehow her master programmed her mind to take out certain key command-and-control buildings before they arrived but, the ship she was on is the one that hit the asteroid. She's the only one that survived and she's looking for a way out from under this monster. I'm going to help her and I need your cooperation in this," he glanced to the agent, hopeful that it wouldn't end in a convoluted mess.

Todd stared at him, emotionless. "You're serious?"

Brian kept his eyes on the wet road. "Yeah," he nodded. "We finally have a chance to know someone from another world and an ally inside their ranks. This invasion could end today." Silent moments lingered as the roar of the engine carried them to their destination.

Sighing, Todd stared ahead. "I'm going to trust you on this but, the minute she double-crosses us, I'm taking her out."

Brian nodded knowing in his gut that she would be the least of their worries.

Page 21

Thick grey clouds hung low as sheets of rain filled the sky as she stood within the treeline waiting for the inevitable arrival of her master. Quietly she stood hoping that something would happen to him and save her the trouble, but deep down she wanted to watch him die. Flashes of screaming victims at her hand had been haunting her the past week and she tried desperately to push them back into the recesses of her mind. Concentrating, she could feel the cavalry on their way.

* * *

Eagerly, Derixor sat within his command chair behind the two pilots as the assault shuttle screamed down into the atmosphere, full of the first wave of infiltrators who would coordinate the orbital bombardment and begin securing a base for the invasion. Fire consumed their vision with re-entry and soon evanesced into darkness and sparse explosions of lightning down below.

"Aircraft still fill the sky, sir," the sensor operator to his right reported.

"Filter those armed and energize the turrets," he commanded, glancing to his own display perched atop the arm of his chair as four of his men switched on the fire control and spun their guns towards the approaching craft.

* * *

Red bolts erupted into the sky, speeding to two F16's which erupted into fireballs, but not before releasing a volley of missiles. As the shuttle maneuvered, diving steeper into the cloud cover, the gunners tried desperately to shoot the incoming projectiles, filling the sky with and illuminating the clouds with red.

* * *

Derixor concentrated, touching the mind of his master. 'Sire, the b**tch has betrayed us.'

'I know,' the cold reply. 'Don't fear, she'll beg for mercy before I'm finished.'

Breaking the link, the dark user unbuckled the seatbelt and sprinted to the rear of the vessel as his men scrambled to the other escape pods. Closing the door, he punched the 'EJECT' and held on as the shuttle exploded around them, sending shards of metal and transparisteel into the misty surroundings. His anger welled with each passing moment as the pod coursed to the surface.

* * *

"..have deployed using escape vehicles. Execute with extreme prejudice," the officer on the ground stated as the A10 pilot followed the path of the nearest one, eyeing the monitor on his control panel as five others swooped in for the kill.

"Copy that."

* * *

Blasting through the rain and downward to apparent safety, the five pods raced for the ground until suddenly, turbofan engines screamed in for the kill. Erupting from their nose, the thirty millimeter cannons tore holes into the egg-shaped bodies, ripping all in their path until hitting the rear section. Exploding into fireballs, four eventually fell to the ground without guidance, crashing into trees and rolling to a stop.

* * *

As she watched from the ground, eruptions in the cloud cover caught her attention and soon falling debris gave her hope as she smiled, noting the pod as it fell to the ground, trailing dark smoke and fire as an odd shaped, long winged fighter buzzed by at treetop level and soon disappeared into the frothy atmosphere, seeking another target. A thunderous crash and pounding in the ground signified the first landing of the one that escaped the carnage, for the moment as she noticed the pod buried now into the woods to the distant right.
Determined not to allow these invaders to disperse, she sprinted through the underbrush as fast as her legs would carry her and soon noticed the expulsion of gas as the hatch was blown open. Reaching to her belt, she released her lightsaber and prepared for battle.

Suddenly, red bolts erupted as troops in red armor over black body gloves shot at the scout as she deflected their bolts back at them, killing three with a flurry of moves as she continued to run. Danger piqued in her mind and she jumped to the left, avoiding the thump of a grenade launcher. Hitting the ground, she rolled and jumped back up, continuing her charge as the explosion of blue, gelatinous foam caked everything around it, grabbing her legs and pinning her to the ground. Piling out of the small, round entryway, four more troops rolled and fired as she deflected their bolts away and some towards the shooters, pitching them backwards into the ground.

Now that a chance had availed itself, she began cutting at the hardening glop to free herself as an explosion of red lightning caught her. Coursing through her body, she convulsed as Derixor laughed, hand extended as he stepped out of the pod.

"I knew your rise to power was too quickly attained," he spat as he stepped closer, still ejecting red, crackling lightning into his victim as she screamed.

As her black clothing smoldered, she concentrated and began absorbing the damage that threatened to kill her, feeling the pain burn through her entire body.

"You think you can defeat me, child?! You've not even begun to touch the power of the dark side." He stopped his assault as she sighed heavily, wincing in pain and tried to summon enough power to fight back. Eyes burning with hatred, she looked up and saw him fall to the ground. Confusedly, she watched as blood trickled from his temple and chest, then realized that the cavalry had arrived. Turning, she noticed the men in dark blue now aiming at her.

"Hold your fire," Brian commanded as he stepped out of the woods, hand up as he moved to her. "You alright?"

She felt her anger ebb as her breathing slowed. "I see you got my message."

He nodded, glancing to the bodies around the pod's entrance. "Yeah. Was that him?"

"No. That was a lieutenant," she informed as she resumed trying to break free of the hardened wall around her lower legs. Lowering the red blade of her saber, she slowly cut through as the heat burned a neat crevasse. "You might want to grab their weapons, they could come in handy," she suggested.

"Alright," he motioned to his men who soon sent two to collect the rifles and grenades while the rest kept their weapons trained on her.

She looked up to Brian once noticing the red dots dancing on her chest. "Do I need to continue with this or are they going to shoot me?"

Brian turned to the treeline, hand up. "Guys, it's alright. Keep an eye on the perimeter, there may be more of them out there."

"This is the hideous alien you were telling me about," Todd asked as he approached, pistol in hand which hung at his side.

"Yeah," Brian admitted as she glared back.

"Hideous? Really?"

"Well...I didn't mean it that way," he defended. "Is there any way I can help you speed this up?"

She shook her head, "By the time you find the aerosol, I'll be free of it. But, if you want to, look on their belts or in the storage compartments within the interior wall at the entrance of the pod and you may find some," she said, continuing the darkened path around her feet. "It may come in handy if the ones coming with him have any."

Brian motioned to the pair scavenging for gear who quickly moved to the pod. "Where is he?"

Concentrating, she reached out with her mind and quickly found her master approaching with a multitude with him. "On his way," she revealed, hurrying the rounded cut until finally free of the glop.

"Sir," one of the armored agents called. "I found a box," he held up the rectangular container. Dark grey, it had no symbols or lettering on it and she immediately held up her hand.

"Wait," she rushed to him. "Give me that," she cautiously pleaded as he backed from her.

"What's in there," Brian asked.

She turned. "Remember the hangar at Eglin?"

His eyes lit up. "Oh. Be very careful with that. As a matter of fact, put it down. Gently."

"Return it to the compartment," she instructed, pointing back into the dimly lit interior.

"Why," Brian asked as he approached. "We could use those."

"I have an idea."

Page 22

After grabbing one of the thermal detonators, she closed up the metal container and replaced it into the storage compartment and rose to face Brian. "You need to get your men back to the town. Now that you know what they look like, you can inform the military and police."

"Alright." He turned to leave and noticed that she wasn't following. "You're coming also, right?"

She shook her head. "He's going to want to take me out first while his men are attacking Crestview and soon the base. I'll meet him here."

Motioning to Todd, "I'll catch up with you guys in town. Radio in what we've seen out here and get them ready."

"Meet you at the car," the taller agent stated as the combat team ran back into the woods.

"No. Go on, I'm staying here."

"No you're not," she interjected, prompting him to turn. "Go back with them. He'll kill you and I don't need any distractions."

"You could use the extra gun when he lands. I'll stay in the woods on his flank."

"You'll do what I told you to do," orange eyes sparkled brighter as she placed a hand on her hip. "Go. You can't help me with this one."

He sighed as he shook his head. "I thought I was a pain in the ass."

"Surprise." Feeling the combat resume in the air high above them, she knew she was running out of time. "He's coming, get out of here. Hurry."

"Alright," he backed. "You know how to get in touch when this is over."

She nodded, eyes to the dark grey sky as she blinked away rain. Calmly, she walked over to the opposite side of the small clearing and knelt down. Slowing her breathing, she began meditating and felt the aggression in the skies as well as in space high above them. Moving towards the engineering area, she found the main power core, swept with her hand and timed the baseball-sized bomb. After setting it undeneath the large, circular container, she withdrew her hand from the small, round gate and then closed it. That done, she realized that Brian wasn't going to keep his word as she felt him lay within the thick underbrush not far from the crashed pod. Encompassing her mind around him, she opened her arms in an oblong circle, joining her hands and swept another gate around him and closed it after clearing his feet.

* * *

Swirling in a massive dogfight, Sith pilots in sleek, Z-95 Headhunters attacked and evaded fighters who rose from various bases within Florida, Alabama and Georgia as their main assault force screamed through the sky on their way to through the grey cloud cover. Red bolts, missiles and explosions filled the sky in and around the enormous thunderheads rising from the pillowy, golden carpet as evening fell.

Within the command shuttle, Becuma felt his student preparing for his arrival and he smiled darkly. Once she was eliminated, his road to ruling this backwards system would be smooth and quick. He also felt the chaos around him as his vessel descended and he reveled in it, soaking up the death and agonizing pain that the pilots felt as they fell to the earth. Rumbling, the shuttle soon found it's destination as their Adim general moved to the gangway and pushed the green button to his right, opening the door as the ramp lowered. Stepping down into the swirling, windy maelstrom, he crouched as the darker treetops soon came into view as he readied for his descent. Once he felt her presence near, he leaped into the air and controlled his fall until landing near the pod's exit and the body of his trusted lieutenant.

Igniting his saber, he charged as she rose, angry red blade in her own hand. "You've done well, my love," he began as their blades clashed, swung and parried. Angrily, he pressed his attack, noticing her weakened state after being nearly burned to death by Derixor's lightning. Feinting, he motioned with his left hand, knocking her backwards onto the ground. Leaping, he attacked, swinging down mightily as she dodged right and blocked his backswing that threatened to cleave her in two. Laughing, he continued his assault, dodging fallen trees as he prepped his next trick, waiting for the right moment. Backing, she parried and feinted until he had her backed near the pod, yellowing teeth smiled in disdain at her weakness.

"You disappoint me. After all the knowledge that I let you attain, this is the best you could muster?" He blocked her blade upward and kicked. As she dodged, spun and shoved, he found himself slammed into the doorway of the pod. Hatred flowing through him, he spun as energy coursed to his right arm as her blade flashed. Red lightning burst from his fingertips as the arm was severed. Screaming, he cut downward and caught her in the shoulder as she tried to block. Suddenly, she backed and blended with the background.

"Your reign is at an end, you filthy bastard."

He threw his lightsaber, nearly catching her in the midsection but watched in amazement as she disappeared and he felt the burning explosion that filled his eyes and mind...

* * *

Brian watched as the wet, long grass was suddenly replaced by the white, sterile walls of the hospital. Footsteps on the tiled floor in the hallway beyond the door to his distant right made him realize where he was, but not how he suddenly got here. Laying his head on the cold floor, he sighed. 'Damnit', he thought, then pushed himself up, holstering his pistol. As he walked through the empty room, he listened and heard the commotion within the voices as he opened the door. Nurses raced with victims burned, wet and bandaged and he realized that the attack had begun. Rumbling outside resembled thunder as well as the sound of explosions which prompted him to race through the flow of people and gurneys until reaching the front lobby, also full of waiting patients, crying children and two policemen trying to calm everyone down. Once outside, he noticed the lines of burning wreckage that rained down along with green bolts searing through the clouds and hitting the base to the south. In amazement, he stood, helpless and for the first time without any idea what to do or where to help first.

Two screaming jets passed overhead which prompted him to crouch reflexively as two other fighters of some odd configuration chased them, firing red bolts from their wings. He stared in amazement as they disappeared into the grey soup above as another, older man stood nearby.

"Sure never thought I'd live to see this," he commented, matter-of-factly.

Brian turned to him. "Get inside, hurry." He sprinted to the patrol car still parked in the circle drive and jumped in. Somehow he had to reach her before it was too late, he thought as he looked for the keys.

"Hey, get out of there," a male voice yelled as Brian perked up, then stepped out.

"I'm Agent Strauss, FBI," he informed the sheriff. "I need to borrow your car," he flashed his identification. "Come on." Catching the keys, he sat in as he slammed the door shut and cranked the ignition. Punching the accelerator, he raced through the quiet streets, passed occasional burning buildings full of wreckage. Once on the highway, he pushed the car northward. Suddenly, he noticed the bright flash to his right that lit up the sky like a nuclear blast and his heart fell. With an enormous wave, the shock blew the car sideways and he saw his life flash before his eyes in a swirl of dark and light.

* * *

Brian awoke to the quiet, echoing voices and foosteps as brown eyes opened to eye the tall ceiling whose dark girders and large hanging lights made him realize that he wasn't in a hospital. His body ached and he soon noticed that his lower left arm was in a cast. As he looked around, the gymnasium was full of miltiary style cots, each housing a person. To his immediate left, an older women slept soundly underneath a thick quilt, beyond her the snoring of some larger gentleman echoed in time with several others within the large room. His right hand searched and found his gun, badge and wallet in a plastic bag next to his leg and underneath the olive blanket that covered him. His mind soon reminded him of the explosion that he saw within the grey curtain and his heart melted. She didn't have to sacrifice herself like that, he thought. There had to have been a better way, fight on ground of their choosing, not his. Emotions welled as he raised his right hand and covered his eyes and soon, he felt the necklace settled on his chest. Clearing his eyes, he reached in and pulled out the familiar silver pendant that he had found on the pod. Tears turned quickly to hope.

Page 1

Boots beat upon the wooden decking and stopped before Allaina's door followed by a knock. "Enter," she sleepily called from her modest room. Blue eyes rose from her candlelit desk built into the wall to see her trusted man-at-arms and head of the marines. His dashing, middle-aged frame bedecked in tan coat which lay over striped pantaloons, the upper yellow layers split and revealed black within as he walked.

"My Lady, you should get some air to quell your sea sickness," he smiled as a gloved hand rested on the door's frame. "Clean air.."

"Is full of salt and terrible for my complexion. Leave me be until we've arrived." A sigh escaped her lips rimmed in slender wrinkles at their corners.

He nodded once, prompting his long, greying brown locks to undulate over broad shoulders. A lingering stare stated all his mind tried to hide from the archmage. "You're sure this is going to work? It's not too late to turn around."

"My brave captain is getting cold feet? Your men are more than capable; they've proven themselves time and again already. What their bravery can't conquer, their guns and the cannon on these ships will make up for. I assure you."

Felix grinned, raising his van dyke slightly. "I have no hesitations on their heart, only what rumor and your research has revealed. I just don't want Errigal to be our graves."

Allaina straightened and turned herself to face him more squarely. "Nor I, my friend. I've been preparing myself for this all my life, so trust my judgement. I know what we're doing."

Narrowed brown eyes glanced to the large, leather bound tome before her whose weathered pages held decades of knowledge. "You're sure her spirit will still be linked to that spot?"

"It's where she died." Her own nervousness was well concealed; the archmage had made a life of keeping her fears buried from view. This expedition was a huge moment in her life and one that she wasn't about to back away from now. "We've come too far to turn back now, so you're more than welcome to stay aboard while I venture to the ruin if you wish."

His posture stiffened. "I will not, madam. Nor will my men; we gave our word to see this through."

"Good."

A voice echoed down from the main deck and interrupted their discussion. "Land ho." The declaration that prompted the aged woman to push herself up, right hand resting atop the bejeweled cane and left on the corner of her desk. She smiled at the ease this chore had become since embarking on this trip nearly three months ago and limped towards the stair, then climbed it with Sir Felix behind her.

Daylight streamed through the narrow openings in the dark grey clouds which hung heavily over the scene. Sailors ran to and fro as they conducted their various chores and Allaina struggled to the rail, glancing back to the other galleys that escorted them, then right to see the grey, rocky shore pierce the gloom. Her heart leapt at the sight as did her apprehension.

"Milady," the captain's deep, authoritative voice called as the leaner, older man approached. "We've sighted the entrance to the river and it is indeed wide enough for us. Just hope it's deep enough. We'll make soundings, but I'll have to leave the galleys anchored out here."

"Why's that," Felix's concern evident which annoyed Allaina sometimes.

"They're deeper on the draft than we are; can't risk having them ground."

"That's fine," Allaina looked to the clearer line of rugged cliffs as the water crashed upon it to either side of the river's wide entrance. "We'll rejoin them once this is done."

Page 1

The rumbling from the wagon's journey awoke Kailee to less than savory surroundings. Not only the stench of weathered straw, but also a variety of other body odors and things that her mind processed quickly. Vibrant, green eyes opened to see the cage's, wrought iron bars separating her from sowed fields, sparse trees and a farmhouse beyond the line of hedges that framed the obvious road.

Cold iron on both wrists also alarmed the hungry prisoner as she raised her dirty hands to see the shackles applied and with surprise, she glanced ahead to note the back of her captor. His black clothing, greying red hair and solid build inspired a slaver, or perhaps worse. Glancing back, two more well armed riders grinned at her from their mounts appearing like mercenaries at first glance.

What was going on here? One minute she was sleeping within the body of...where was Allaina? The form she now gazed down at appeared like the Kailee of old. Long, straw colored hair, healthy and slender limbs covered within a modest, tan dress made her wonder if this was some cruel nightmare.

"Seems she's awoken, My Lord," one of the riders announced and prompted the driver to turn.

"So she has," his deeper, more sinister voice gave her a chill as his dull olive eyes grinned at her. "Good, hate for the dean to have to wake you himself once we arrive."

"What's going on," Kailee noticed the walls of a large city ahead, slowly drawing near. "What is my crime?"

"Don't act so surprised, young one. Everyone knows that sorcery is outlawed; especially witchcraft." He turned back around to continue keeping his eyes on the road and she surveyed the cage itself and found no glyphs or wards keeping her bound. The shackles themselves, however held a different story. Muting her abilities with magic, she was a victim to this man's mercy.

"I'm not a witch. Where is your proof?"

"My eyes and ears know the difference, and so do all the witnesses that turned you over to me in Purbeck."

"She'll fetch a handsome price," his companion from behind added with a chuckle, then sipped from his waterskin and returned it to his saddle. "Think I'll buy me a new coat once we get paid."

"Need a bath," the rider in tan coat and white shirt to his left smiled. "I'd start there, personally."

A playful shove and their lack of concern for her innocence made her nervous. This wasn't supposed to be happening. A slap on the rumps of both horses prompted them to accelerate their journey to the approaching city gate as they passed through a modest community that lined the road and obviously served the outlying farms. Sympathetic gazes met hers as they passed from people of all walks of life, some going about their daily chores while more well dressed gentlemen and ladies ignored the passing wagon altogether.
Kailee pushed herself to sit up and glanced to the left side of her cage to see the front of an inn and smithy at it's flank. Familiar sounds and smells brought her back to a time that she had nearly forgotten about. Clang of metal, smells of cookfires, stench of horses and refuse needing to be burned as well as the incense vainly trying to cover it all up drifting from open, second story windows.

The world had grown up and she wasn't pleased so far as emotions welled within. Passing through the gatehouse was announced by the thunder of horses hooves and heavy wheels over stone that echoed in the shadow of the thickly built entryway. There were many things that she didn't miss about this life as she wiped her cheeks dry under the scrutiny of more inhabitants of this city.
Entering the marketplace, she suddenly began recognizing certain landmarks within the crowded stalls and central plaza whose fountain sported statues of cherubs pouring water from amphorae beneath a seated man in armor, warhammer across his lap.

Her mouth fell open at the sight as the wagon continued carrying her away from the memory of one of her many dear friends. Zariva had grown up.

Page 2

The pair of helpers escorted her into the side entrance of a large, beautifully built compound whose tall, bullet shaped windows and lofty eaves adorned the two-story buildings. All lost in the shadow of a descending stair and dimly lit hallways until being led through a guard room and into a cell, then shoved within. As she hit the stone floor, the door slammed behind her and keys announced the prisoner's fate. Boots then faded as she looked around to see a high window as daylight caressed the upper walls.

She made herself comfortable and tried her best to ignore her growling stomach and meditated which helped somewhat. It seemed like hours before the approach of boots announced possible visitors who then stopped at her windowless door and the rattle of keys preceded the groan of the hinges. Green eyes turned to the pair of older men dressed in long, black, fur-lined robes and stank of perfume.

"Up," the older one yelled and she pushed herself up, using the cool stone wall as support. "What's your name?"

"Kailee," she answered without hesitation.

"Messing about with witchcraft, are we? Where are the others then? We know most of your kind don't practise alone; not anymore." His narrowed, brown eyes were full of disdain as he glared at her, hands on hips.

"I'm not a witch. I have no idea where they got that from," she glanced to the quieter second accuser. His greying brown hair and ice-blue eyes just watched and listened.

"The children that you stole in the night had parents. You honestly thought you'd get away with that?"

Kailee shook her head, having no memory of any of these things. "I've been falsely accused. I would never hurt a child."

He huffed and glanced to his companion. "Expects us to believe that. Amazing," turning back, he slapped her hard across the cheek. "Confess your crime and your death will be swift. Do it not, and we're going to do this a long time. Up to you."

Hands to her cheek, Kailee felt her anger well and knew what would happen to these men if she wasn't wearing these shackles. "I have the right to face my accusers so we can get the truth of this."

"You have no rights at all, woman. Think on that while you rot in here." He spun on his heel as his friend lingered a bit longer, and walked back into the hallway and disappeared. Though she knew he wasn't leaving yet.

"Where were you born," the younger one's quieter demeanor put her offguard a bit.

"Carbost."

He nodded. "Family?"

"All dead." His quizzical look prompted her to embellish a bit. "Sickness during the winter and old age for my grandparents. I had no brothers or sisters and never met any cousins."

"Hmm. So, what were you doing in Purbeck then?"

"I don't remember. I have no memory before a week ago, so I don't know how I got there."

His wry grin held a confusing foundation as he fell silent for a moment. "Did you live in Carbost then? Any friends that we can contact to verify your story?"

"No. Warwick, in the Black Mountains; I moved there some years back."

"Warwick," his grin faded. "I see. Well, enjoy your stay unless you'd like to confess your crimes and we can get this all over with. There are a number of innocent families that demand justice for what you've done."

"They're lying. I've done none of those things." Brow peeked and he shrugged, then walked out and closed the door behind him as she watched helplessly. In disbelief she shook her head, unable to comprehend what events led her to this fate. Certainly none of her own making. Sliding back to the floor, she drew her knees to her chest and lay her head upon them and closed her eyes.

Page 3

Without food, she fell asleep and hoped that this bad dream would end and she would be back in her father's tower, wake to the smell of fresh bread. Hear Tess' soft breathing near her as they awoke in the pillowy blanket and soft sheets that she had been enjoying for hundreds of years, apparently.

Reality was far from that, unfortunately as the pound of boots soon arrived again, the cacophony of keys and hinges again prompted her to rise from her bed of thin, wet straw.

"On your feet," the guard yelled and yanked her up then shoved her out of the door. "Got a date with the judge, hate for you to miss it."

"Ugh, she stinks," a second exclaimed, his hand to his mouth and nose as they guided her back the way she had come the day before. "Need a bath."

"Too bad, won't matter to the executioner anyway."

This world really had changed, though much of it looked very much the same. A grin crossed her face, knowing what lay in store for her on the other side and hoped that moment would come soon. Their trek left that building and entered another equally impressive one across the avenue. Her own entrance on the side as a host of others arrived at the front in carriages or on horseback. Morning light streamed through sparse cloud cover, painting them in rich shades of orange and brought a smile to her face.

Soon, they emerged at the top of a wooden stair, railed with ornately carved supports and banister. The guards then stopped her before a raised stand facing another in dark robes whose polished, wooden loft commanded the opposite wall. To the right and left sat a host of others, most well dressed and apparently just interested in seeing another witch burn.

Kailee sighed, hands hung before her with the wrought iron chains still her companion. The hum of conversation soon dulled as all eyes turned to a richly clothed couple who strode down a central aisle, then took their seats at the front of the rightmost group. His larger frame and solid build reminded her of Lericanin immediately and she grinned as his wife glanced at her momentarily, her long red hair carefully woven and fastened with pearls.

"State your name for the record," the judge's bass voiced boomed from his raised seat.

"Kailee De Mirijan," she replied proudly and noted the attention she gained from the male royal.

"Whence do you reside?"

"Warwick, but I was born in Carbost."

"You've been accused of witchcraft, murder, kidnapping and consorting with devils. How do you plead?"

"I'm innocent." Such things would never have crossed her mind, even before meeting the group at Laksay. Well, maybe except for murder that is.

"It's been well documented that the people of Purbeck identified you to the witch hunter as the one responsible, yet you deny this?"

"I do. As unfortunate as these crimes are to these innocent families, I was not responsible."

"Then who was?" His eyes finally rose to look at the accused.

"I don't know."

"Don't know, or won't tell? Thus far you've supplied no evidence of your innocence, neither to the investigators nor to the hunter that arrested you. Yet you continue to hold to your story." His gaze fell to the papers before him and she noticed a group of individuals seated apart from the rest, all eyeing her and listening intently. None of them in rich robes, but well dressed. "How did you arrive in Purbeck?"

"I have no memory of going there at all. I only learned that I was there from my captors."

"What are your last memories then?"

How could she explain that to these people? Would they understand what had happened, or chalk it up to more sorcery? "I fell asleep with three friends of mine north of the border of Kevelaer. I somehow awoke in the wagon and was brought here and I have no idea what happened between those events."

Everyone in the crowd quietly studied her and after a few long moments, the judge rested his hands atop the pile of papers before him. "Kevelaer? You expect this court to believe that? What were you doing there?"

"Helping a friend."

He nodded slightly, "A friend? Where are these friends now then? I'd like to talk to them."

"Probably flown back home, I suspect."

Reclining back into his seat, the judge then glanced to the panel of observers and appeared to be waiting for some kind of response, but received none. He then moved to his compiled report, "I'm still confused on how any of that explains the missing children and this," he held up a wide, silver bracelet whose large, yellow stone gleamed in the candlelight. "A known token of witches in that area and one used for sorcery. Recognize it?"

"I don't, no," she shook her head. "It's not mine."

"Really? You were found wearing it."

"Who saw that on me?"

"The witch hunter, his men as well as the sheriff of Purbeck. But, it's not yours," he chuckled with disdain and set it back onto the desk. "Interesting." Stacking the report and straightening it, he motioned for the guards. "This court has found sufficient evidence of your guilt and you will be burned at the stake on the morrow at dawn. Take her back to her cell."

If that was what passed for justice in this new world, she was glad to leave it.

Page 4

Still without a meal, Kailee rested her eyes and conserved her energy, listening to the quiet birdsong outside and recalled a time in Zariva when Lericanin and Nyrellia were rebuilding this city, helping it grow. Their work was not in vain and she hoped to pass on what she had seen it become when she could. Her only regret was not meeting the ruling family, if it was still the Averitt clan.

Lost in her thoughts, the door opened again and revealed the same duo of guards. "On your feet, filth." He kicked her in the side as she pushed herself up again, trying her best to dodge the shot. Lack of energy kept her from avoiding a bruised thigh however as they pulled her along and this time, up to an awaiting wagon parked at the side entrance. She climbed up into the back and sat down on the bench seat as one of the guards locked it, then walked around with the other to the driver's bench. Within moments they were off through the city and Kailee recognized, to the palace. Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing it again, craning around to peer through the barred wall and smiled as they passed through the gatehouse. The heraldry of Zariva boldly embossed over the center of the gate's opening.

Pulling around to the kitchen entrance, they stopped and hopped down, then walked around to the back and opened the door for the prisoner. Stepping down, she was wrenched towards the entrance and pushed through it, then right and down a long hallway to the bathroom.

A tub already prepared, both guards waited at the doorway, watching as she turned to them. "There's no windows, I'm not going to escape."

"Just hurry up," one motioned to the awaiting tub and neither complied.

"How's she going to change with those on her," the redhead she had seen from the courtroom motioned to the shackles, prompting both men to bow to her and step out of the way. "Take them off, now."

"Milady, she's a witch. We take those off and she has access to her magic. We can't.."

"'Can't' isn't used to nobility. Do it, now."

"Madam," he bowed again, then turned and approached Kailee, then unlocked the shackles, then backed from her.

"Out," the noblewoman demanded and motioned to the hallway. Nearly pushing them herself, and shutting the door behind them. Turning, her green eyes grinned. "It's quiet now, please," she motioned to the awaiting bath.

"Why am I here, milady?"

Hands clasped before her, she grinned. "Can't have you living like this any longer. Also would prefer that you bathe before dinner, if you don't mind. I have a dress on it's way down also. Get rid of that rag," she glanced to the worn and dirty gown that Kailee wore.

With a nod, Kailee undressed, then gingerly climbed into the water and slipped into it, then relaxed. The warmth felt amazing on her skin, especially with all she had been through. Taking the soap provided, she washed herself, then her hair with a touch of her finger. Grinning at being able to use her spells again, she hoped that it didn't frighten her hostess as she turned to notice the redhead seated near the door, admiring her.

"I imagine it feels good. A lady shouldn't be treated like that. Especially you."

A comment that furrowed her brow, "What do you mean?"

"I'll let my husband explain. He's eager to meet you. In fact, he's the one that arranged this."

She finished up, then put on the elegant, dark blue dress that was provided and recalled the one that the queen of Kevelaer had given her for a ball in Yahlova. The thought of her friend now gone recalled the emotions that she had buried for the past two days, knowing that Eirianwen wouldn't want her to remember her that way. Once she slipped on her shoes, Kailee followed the countess out through the kitchen and into the Great Hall whose large hearth and sandstone walls had so many stories.

Rising, the count commanded a long table occupied by a host of people of varying ages from the very young to very old, all who watched her approach. He motioned to the seat across from his own and she moved to it as the countess walked around to his side. "Sir Edwin Averitt, Count of Zariva. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, be seated."

Taking her cue, she waited for the rest to sit and then reclined in her own, high backed chair of cherry and padded with red velvet. "I thank you for your hospitality. Not sure what I've done to earn it though."

"One of two reasons. Either you're descended from her, or you are her. I never read of her having any offspring, so." Soup was brought and set before her, "But, you must be starving. Please."

"I am actually." The spoon worked overtime as she almost embarrassed herself, her body eagerly desiring nearly everything that was placed before her, but she reigned herself in. Knowing that her stomach couldn't handle too much, she allowed the wine to fill the remainder of her empty stomach.

"I read that you went to a far southern island and...then were laid to rest in the Garden." He let his confusion be relayed by his face instead of his words.

Kailee nodded as she glanced to his obvious family and relatives at the table with them. "It's a long story, but let's say that I'm just glad that I was able to meet you all. I know...your ancestor would be proud that his name still thrives here."

Sir Edwin smiled, "I'm dying to hear stories about him, so I hope you don't mind. This may be a long night."

"Of course. If I'm to perish in the morning, might as well."

His eagerness faded. "That's been taken care of. Don't worry, the judge dropped his charges. You're free."

Emerald eyes stared at him blankly for a long moment. "Then, I'm in your debt, sir."

"The stand is no place for a queen."

Page 5

Cool air wafted in from the tall windows that flanked the large hearth, burning brightly and warming the large room somewhat. Dinner now done, Kailee enjoyed sipping the wine provided as she relaxed at the table.

Sir Edwin leaned forward, eagerness in his eyes. "Tell us of the old days, madam. I've read my ancestor's journal and it's hard to believe that such things occurred in these lands. In this very city, so long ago."

Green eyes livened at the mention of those times, which to her seemed just yesterday. "Sir Lericanin, Alister, Tia, Avion and a princess of Tywyn named Elsea, found me in Laksay and released me from that prison. We spent the better part of five years combatting the forces of Sater, then finally killed him in Deristan, far to the south. After that, Lericanin married his love, Nyrellia and proposed to her at Alister and Lina's reception. Their son Alexander was there, all handsome in his armor as a Templar of the Order of the Golden Scepter." She smiled, hearing their voices again. "Seems like just a day ago now."

"The world's better for you all now, that's for sure."

Kailee grinned wryly, "Is it? Doesn't seem much different than when we started our journey."

Lady Beatrice, his beautiful wife smiled. "How quickly we forget. Unfortunate how short people's memory can be."

"It's not just humans, elves have a long memory too. Surprising with how long they live, you'd think they'd have a more pragmatic outlook about things, but it's rare. Time changes, but you're right, people don't."

Their eldest son cleared his throat, "What's it like? On the other side?"

Kailee glanced to Sir Albert, "It's beautiful. Like a dream, actually." How she missed it. "All of my family are there, but young. Everyone looks like they're twenty and in perfect health. No sickness or war."

"Sounds wonderful," his sister, Elaine eyed her admiringly. "But, how will you get back now?"

Emerald eyes glanced back to the count. "I had a way back, but no longer, it seems."

"For that I'm sorry. Had I known..."

"It's okay. I was hoping to meet you and your family and I'm glad that you did spare my life. It'll be nice seeing how this kingdom has changed. Do you keep in touch with the Stormfrost family?"

"Haven't seen any of that family in years. My father fought alongside a Sir William for a few years, but they lost contact not long after that. I think they still live in Carbost, not sure. We could find out if you wished."

"In time," she nodded. "There's so much to get caught up on, it doesn't have to happen tonight."

"Of course." He smiled as several of the others at the table chuckled. His extended family had a multitude of thoughts running through their mind from how beautiful their guest was to how to get her to stay and use her influence with various factions. They would find quickly how little usefulness she would be for manipulation socially or politically. Kailee had had her fill with that arena before and had no aspirations for any of it again.

Soon, they broke from the table and headed upstairs to get some sleep, Kailee led to a guest suite by the count and countess themselves. "I hope this will be suitable, madam," he expressed as moonlight spilled through the thinly veiled windows onto the richly appointed room.

"I'll be fine, thank you both again for this."

"Not at all. I'm just glad that we got this opportunity to meet you. I certainly never thought such a thing would be possible, but the gods really do exist, don't they?" His meaning apparently in jest.

"Yes, they do." Her reply caught him offguard as his smile melted. A bit surprised, she squared on him. "What do your priests hold to then if not to them?"

"The Unity," Beatrice's apparent disgust evident in her expression. "It's more of an excuse for the church to get rich any more. They head the Banking Guild now. It's about all they're involved in, but paint their sermons on the sabbath with messages of hope that I don't think they even believe in any longer. But, the people need something, don't they?"

"That's sad to hear," Kailee couldn't believe her ears. "Lericanin would be disgusted at this news, trust me."

Edwin nodded quietly, then glanced to the bed, "Get some rest, Your Highness and we'll see you in the morning."

"I'm no longer queen of Wroclaw. Kailee is fine."

"It's not possible for a prince to be less than a prince, even in death, madam."

A light sigh, she acquiesced. "Well, I won't argue. Goodnight."

"Sleep well," Beatrice bid and they backed from her room and closed the door, leaving her to disrobe and crawl into the comfortable bed. Free of bugs and rats, she fell asleep almost immediately, slumber carrying her to familiar places on it's wings. A welcome respite from the cell.

Page 6

Standing in the open doorway, Kailee listened to the sounds of the city beyond the palace walls, arms crossed and keeping the blanket close around her. Saflia's chill in the air, she could feel the change of seasons and knew farmers would be bringing in the late crops to market soon. Keeping what they needed to feed their families through the winter, which in this area was usually a bit milder than she recalled in Warwick. Snow falling quietly in those mountains, peacefully carpeting the world for it's slumber and eventual awakening into onebro.

The echo of kids at play in a distant alleyway reminded her of many of those whose faces would never be lost to time or memory. Not with her, anyway. Danaca, Katsandra, little Selyria who became Lyvyrikka as well as the youth that populated and eventually led Warwick into the future, flashed through her mind. A future that she and Tess missed. She was looking forward to letting the dark elf know that they hadn't been forgotten. At least not in Zariva.

A presence opened the door and stopped within the entry and she recognized Sir Edwin's aura and grinned. "Come in."

"I apologize if I've disturbed you, Your Highness. We missed you at breakfast and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright." He stepped into the room and closed the door, his progress followed by the sounds of his boots and the air that was moved.

"I'm fine, thanks," she reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Just enjoying the world again. Winter's coming."

"It is and I'm glad that I'm here to do that with you." He stopped behind and to the right of her. "If you wish your privacy..."

"No, it's alright." She smiled as her eyes remained closed. "It's amazing what you can see when you're not looking."

A momentary hesitation. "I'm sorry."

"You're not a mentalist, so it's okay. Did you ever just close your eyes and listen to the world around you? Even as a young boy? Definitely see it in a different light."

He chuckled. "It's been so long since I was a child; this life demands a stricter regimen when it comes to responsibilities, I'm afraid. Not that you had it any different, of course. But, I'm rarely afforded the luxury of much peace."

She could definitely understand that. "Need to make the time once in a while. That's what Lericanin might tell you. He used to take Nyrellia out to a quiet spot near the river to the west and have picnics with the kids after church. He made it a point to do that as often as he could and I think it helped him rule this county easier. You need that time to step back once in a while; give yourself a fresh perspective on things. Might even help you solve a problem that's been plaguing you for a while."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is," she finally opened her eyes and looked at him. "Life is what you make of it." With an apologetic grin, she bowed her head and retreated back into the shadow of the room. "Sorry if it sounds like I've taken over your mother's duties. I don't mean to."

"Not at all, madam. If I become too blind to learn from someone like you, then it's time to retreat to that quiet cabin in the woods and give all this up. And I can't do that. There's too much at stake here."

Kailee turned back to him as he followed a few steps. "You know, I see a lot of him in you. He'd be proud."

Edwin's chest swelled as he straightened with a grin. "I hope so." His mouth moved to continue, but he delayed and headed back for the door, "I'll let you prepare for the day. I'd love to talk with you more on this subject later, if I may."

"Of course. It seems that I'll be your guest for a bit longer."

His hand reached for the cast iron knob and he turned it, then glanced back to her. "Enjoying every moment, milady." He stepped out and closed it behind him and allowed her to clean up and change, putting on another simple dress that she had been afforded by the lady of the house. As she stepped out into the hallway, emerald eyes noted Sir Albert awaiting her at the top of the stair.

Page 7

Riding through the streets in a beautifully made carriage, Kailee enjoyed the smooth glide past shops and homes as the driver took them on a tour of Zariva and it's newer additions. Sounds of the city wafted in on the breeze carried by their momentum and amidst the constant clacking of horses hooves off of cobblestone.

Slender hand ran across the velvety cushioned seat beside her. "Amazing how far some things have come since I was around," she grinned. "The first time."

Albert smiled, "I can't imagine what this must be like for you. My father said he had read all of the journals in the archives about our ancestors and I've perused some myself. Never imagined we'd get the chance to actually see any of you face-to-face."

"It's definitely been an eye opener, that's for certain." Emerald eyes glanced into the front window of a shop displaying ornate silver plates and goblets, then another beside it whose speciality appeared to be of beautiful glassware.

"Is it true that Sir Lericanin fought demons and undead? It's seems a bit far fetched."

Kailee looked back to the count's son in dismay. "Those things don't exist now?"

"Of course not." His eyes widened, "So, it is true then? I thought those were stories the bishop conjured to keep the kids close to home. It must've been something having to deal with such evil in the world."

Barring the vampire sitting before him, she mused. "I'm glad that you don't have to worry about such things then. It is interesting that at least demons aren't heard of. Or the undead. What's happened with the church then? Why are they so docile and greedy now?"

"Apparently didn't have any vampires or zombies to fight," he chuckled. "I imagine they found other avenues to keep us under foot and indebted." Albert's disdain evident, she sobered at his comment about vampires. Evidently they didn't know as much about her as she thought. Noted. "They've become big land owners for nobles that have used their properties as collateral for loans and either die or just can't repay. It's sad really. It shouldn't be this way. The nobility are needed to govern and keep the peace in the world, now those with title and privilege are slowly becoming men of the cloth."

It seemed that the cult that followed Sater's grandson's had won after all. A revelation that hit her deeply as her attention drifted back out through the windows of their carriage. It only took them four hundred and seventy years to do it, but they had won out after all. Seems diligence does pay off after all. "I would like to visit the church of Arhus at some point."

"Who?"

Kailee's gaze shot back to him, "What do they call the god of justice now, then?"

"You mean the Unity? There is no one deity over anything anymore. They've combined all of them into one symbol and the other old churches were turned into a university, hospital, the court and a men's club for the nobles. Perhaps you could show me where it was."

"South of the market square, if memory serves. It holds the sarcophagi of Lericanin, Nyrellia and Alexander. Not sure who else by this point."

"Oh," he nodded and leaned out, craning his neck towards the driver. "Take us to the hospital."

"Sir," the prompt reply.

Within a few minutes, they arrived at the front of the building that she recalled, but had been defaced from many of the noble statues that once adorned it's exterior. The lofty spires remained, but much of the beautiful statue and mosaics were gone. Stepping out, Albert offered his hand to the lady as she followed and climbed out, casting her gaze up to the weathered, sandstone entryway. He led her to the door and opened it, then stepped aside and allowed her entry into the remodeled foyer.

Stairs led up to a second floor and the once wide and open sanctuary was now lined with a long hallway of doors. "They would never recognize this place," she mused aloud.

"I'm sure much of Zariva has changed since those days. I've seen a lot of projects being built since I was a child."

Men and women in white robes moved about their various tasks as Kailee led her host towards the back, as memory recalled the original layout only to find a maze of offices and rooms for surgery. A nursery flanked a storage room and laboratory of some type. The sight gave her a chill, witches practising in the open now and calling their stores apothecaries. The world had indeed changed.

Soon, she found a door to what should've been the crypt, locked. Green eyes turned to Albert. "Anyone have a key?"

He nodded and turned from her, then walked towards a cluster of offices that they had passed earlier, seeking someone with access as she waited. Stone walls whitewashed and adorned with occasional paintings set a comfortable scene to those who had forgotten this building's original purpose. But, she hadn't forgotten. Even though the gods largely ignored her, her dearest friends were faithful followers and this pride being displayed was a bit much.

"May I help you," an older male voice interrupted from behind as Kailee turned to note the greying hair and kind, blue eyes.

"I'm here with the Count's son and we were hoping to get into this room, if possible."

His brow furrowed a bit. "Why? There are many rooms here that are off limits and we don't normally give tours. This is a place of healing those that are sick, not a museum."

The arrogance caught her offguard. "Excuse me? This was a church at one time, before your engineers desecrated it."

"I'm the Head of Surgeons here and I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Or should I call the sheriff?"

Mentally tagging his surface thoughts, she implanted a more cordial suggestion and knew his mind was forfeit if he chose to continue this threat. "That won't be necessary; we only wished to give our respects. That's all."

A hesitating moment, then he reached into his pocket and produced a large set of keys and walked towards the wooden barrier, "Of course. Take all the time you need." Opening it, he stepped aside and allowed her entrance. "I'll be just down the hall when you're done."

"Thanks." She walked in an immediately recognized the oval shaped room whose close quarters housed the three large, marble containers for three of her closest friends as daylight spilled through the stained glass windows beyond. Quietly and slowly, she neared the one that housed Lericanin in name only, slender hand resting upon it's cool stone reverently. "You were wrong," she began, as if talking to him face to face. "This city was better that you ruled in it, if only for a short time. These people remember you, even now. Your descendants are doing a great job in keeping your name alive and I know that won't end anytime soon." As tears welled, she felt the count's son walk in and quietly listen, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry to say, not everyone holds to those beliefs that you stressed for so long. Seems the days of old are long gone and these people intend to keep history in the dusty books instead." Leaning over, she kissed the placard which sported his name and accomplishments in bold detail. Sniffing, she moved over to Nyrellia and Alexander, thinking her words instead of voicing them as she ran her fingers across their bronze nameplates.

"What was he like," Albert soon interrupted her thoughts as she crouched to read Alexander's plaque.

"A man of honor and faith, just like his father. One you would be privileged to know. He grew up in the orphanage of Kecel until being promoted as the squire of a paladin of the Golden Scepter, then went on to experience adventures of his own, for a very long time. He gave his life keeping safe the granddaughter of Lericanin and Nyrellia. She was one of the group that settled Ariel first," she relayed and stood.

"Really? Which one?"

"Lyvyrikka." She turned to eye the knight, sunlight glinting off of her watery eyes. "Her original name was Selyria, named after a dear friend of mine."

He grinned sympathetically, hands crossed before his tan coat. "I've only heard about Ariel and that it was just a myth. No one seems to know where it is anymore."

"Hmm," she pondered that point for a long moment and wondered if that was on purpose or not. Perhaps Eirianwen concealed that city for someone else. "Maybe those days need to be recalled for it to emerge again. Not sure by who or even if, though." Not from what she had seen thus far, anyway.

Page 8

Enjoying the rest of the afternoon, Kailee soon returned to her room and bathed, then changed into something more formal, a bit reminiscent of the dress given to her by the queen of Kevelaer. It's blue silk flow and uncomfortable girdle took a bit to get used to, but she endured for her hosts. Displaying her shapely form, she touched her hair and created a suitable fashion with her long, sandy blonde tresses and soon emerged from her room and headed downstairs. Purposeful steps towards the ground floor drew her to the growing level of voices that emerged from the distant Great Hall. Apparently some of the guests had already arrived for dinner.

Across the marble floor, decorated with the heraldry of Zariva on the shield that also sported the coat of arms for the Averitt family, she continued on to the entry and walked in. Brighter light pouring down from the three chandeliers hanging from the rafters as well as clusters of candles supported on heavy, wrought iron stands, illuminated the long tables adorned with more candles as well as the feast that had been prepared.

"And here she is," the count smiled, his left arm up and motioned towards her as emerald eyes caught sight of a couple. Their lavish adornments, silk robes and dress beautifully decorated with silver buttons and spots of gold jewelry, denoted someone of note. His badge of station sported on the sash told of someone in the church. "Kailee, this is the bishop and his wife. Sir Archibald Theneault and Lady Beatrice, may I present a dear friend of my family, Lady Kailee of Warwick."

A stiff bow from both as they eyed her, he being the first to speak. "Such beauty, though modest for a Lady, I must say. How fares Warwick these days?"

"Well," she lied, having no idea. "Pleasure meeting you both, and thank you." Kailee stopped at Edwin's left. "Tell me, sir, what is the message these days you give your congregation? I haven't been in the kingdom proper for so long, I was just curious what I'm missing."

His amusement waned as he sipped from his goblet. "Hope and faith to the Unity, as always," he eyed her quizzically. "Why, what do your priests teach then?"

"The same," she grinned. "I was just interested to hear from someone closer to the Unity and that may have more insights, since your life no doubt is fuller being one of study and from tests of faith." And greed.

"Indeed, it is. Not one for the faint of heart, to be sure." He glanced to the count, perhaps for an out from this conversation then back as his wife studied Kailee's face for any sign of treachery or avenues for intrigue. Unfortunately for the noble, Kailee was a mentalist and could read everyone in the room like a book. "I find life itself is the best teacher and one everyone should learn from."

"Well put, sir," Edwin agreed. "Life indeed can be a fickle guide, sometimes."

Sad, she mused. Having no guide anymore for how to live, or anyone to lay trust in began to paint a world in black and white instead of in vivid color. Perhaps it was best that she and her friends hadn't seen these days come to fruition. Lericanin and Alister especially.

Archibald eyed her again, "I heard the city was visited by a magic user of some type today," he looked back to their host. "Troubling news since such things are outlawed these days. I notified the sheriff to begin questioning those in the vicinity for any clues, but he hasn't gotten back to me yet on that issue. Just thought you may wish to be notified, even though this isn't something you should worry yourself about." Brown eyes returned to her, "Is it true that you had once been accused of witchcraft, but found innocent?"

"I was, and have never conducted such rituals. I believe that witch hunter planted evidence just to get paid. I can't believe anyone would do that." Even though she realized the man before her now was the one that hired him. Interesting.

He nodded as the count cleared his throat. "I can speak for Lady Kailee and assure you, she's not anything of the sort."

"I would hope not since you've staked your reputation on such," the bishop added. "It's frightening how easily these creatures can slip into cities and perform their incantations, then slip out in cover of darkness." Another sip preceded an apologetic smile, "But, this isn't the forum for such talk, forgive me. I do tend to bring my daily issues to dinner," he motioned to his silent wife. "Just ask her."

Beatrice smiled politely, "Indeed, it's true".

Kailee knew better though and would keep an eye on these two.

Page 9

Morning's light spilled through the window, though muted being on the western side of the palace, and awoke Kailee to a new day. Music and the variety of smells still lingered with her as she sighed and stretched, then pushed herself up to sit within the heavy blankets. As she took in the distant sounds of the city, something caught her attention and as she focused on the disturbance, mentally tagging the small congregation now huddled around a body discovered in an alleyway.

Touching the mind of the sheriff there, she realized his thoughts on the way the man was murdered raised fears of old. Vampires.

Hit as if from a crossbow bolt, she pushed herself from the bed and quickly dressed, pulling on her shoes as she moved towards the door, nearly tripping on the carpet. Pulling the door open, Kailee immediately dodged a female servant whose eyes widened at the surprise.

"Excuse me," the immortal pushed passed and nearly sprinted down the stairs and towards the Great Hall where Edwin and his wife talked quietly. Turning to her, he smiled.

"Morning," they both greeted, then sobered with the look on her face. "What's amiss?"

"There's been a murder outside the palace walls," she informed and closed with them, seated at the table. "The sheriff believes it was a vampire."

His look of disbelief prompted a chuckle. "There hasn't been such creatures here in generations, madam." His face immediately melted. "Forgive me, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay," Kailee shook her head, dismissing the comment. "I need to find out what happened and if this rumor is true or not."

"Of course," he nodded and pushed himself up, as the Countess followed suit. "What makes him think it was such?"

"Bite marks on the neck." Her adrenaline pumping as they walked to the main entrance in the large dining room and to the main hall, then right.

"How terrible," Beatrice stated concernedly. "This can't be true; perhaps just a wild dog or something."

"We would be so fortunate," Kailee glanced to the wealthy socialite, then feared for their children. "Where are Albert and Elaine?"

"Already started their day," Edwin relayed as he motioned for the chamberlain to join them. "They only lurk in the night, correct?"

"They do," Kailee nodded and eyed the older, stately man as he approached.

"Tell the sheriff that I need to speak with him," the Count said and gained a prompt nod.

"I will, sir. Is this an urgent matter then?"

"It is." They watched the chamberlain move towards the main door and Kailee moved to follow. "Where are you off to?"

"I need to see the area myself," she replied and continued outside and across the bailey. Her mind searching the grounds and buildings situated along the outer wall, hoping that the danger would be nesting nearby, but found no evidence of such. Too easy, she realized and nodded to the guards that opened the gate for her and watched as the simple, tan dress billowed with her steps.

Soon, a rider passed her as the thunderous clomp of shoed feet hit the cobblestone, echoing in the narrow avenue and soon stopped some yards away as the rider relayed the request to the sheriff, trying his best to keep the onlookers at bay. His men's arms outstretched as another crouched near the body. As she neared the scene, the sheriff and rider both headed back to the palace on their mounts, glancing at her as she continued, ignoring both.

Her mind drifted back to the night before and saw the shadowy figure drift into the alley and find the target, then without preamble, attack him and drop the body like a sack of potatoes. His journey from there led her through a circuitous route though moonlit streets and passed the occasional lantern until reaching the hospital. Kailee stopped and stared at the front of the building she and Albert had visited the day before in disbelief. This was sacred ground, or was.

Lowering her gaze, emerald eyes settled on a pair of guards standing at the door. Their quiet determination soon drifted to her as she walked closer.

"Hold ma'am. No one is allowed inside," one guard informed, his helmet gleaming dully in the morning light.

"Is something happened?"

"It's the pox."

"I see," she stopped her progress and knew that was a good cover story for whatever was really going on. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"

They both chuckled, "Not unless you're a miracle worker, no. The Lead Surgeon stated that no one's to enter for the next few days."

She nodded and backed, "Thank you." Apparently this would have to be done the hard way.

Page 1

A slow, rhythmic lapping of waves washed over the still body, simple tunic and pants soaked to his skin as he lay face down in the dark tan ground. White gulls floated high on the unseen breeze and dove into the sea for breakfast, a peaceful morning suddenly interrupted by choking as he pushed himself up. He supported himself with his right arm as he coughed, face caked in sand as he brushed strands of brown hair from view. Equally dark brown eyes opened to notice the beach stretching for miles in the golden gloom which poured over and through the flanking line of trees not far inland. None of this looked familiar as his dry throat was soon cleared with a spit of the last remnants of gritty earth. He leaned to his left and dipped his head into the next wave, washing off the grime and liberated himself from the mask which revealed a younger human male as he straightened and wiped his long hair backwards. To either side, the quiet beach stretched and gave no indication of homes or people.

'Not going to find anything out sitting here', he told himself, then stood and quickly noticed a bruised right thigh. Gently gliding his hand over the brown, woolen pant, he noticed no exterior damage which also meant no bleeding. One consolation he surmised and began limping towards the north.
As he walked, he tried in vain to remember anything at all: no scenes, no faces to cling to and no recollection of his own name. A realization that made him quite nervous. During his trek, he also found no wreckage of a vessel or any indication that he was even aboard a boat which sank. Maybe someone aboard thought him excess cargo and threw him off, one of too many possibilities. Hopefully someone nearby would recognize his face and help him piece together a life.

Soon, two figures emerged from the forest as they headed towards the waterline, nets in hand which they cast. Pushing out the pain of a bruised leg, he scanned the tall green wall to his right for signs of a homestead, lines of smoke from a fire ,but found none.

"Good morning," one of them called, grabbing his attention.

"Hello. I was wondering if one of you could tell me where the nearest town is," he queried.

"We're headed to Jundlyn in the morning. Where you from, friend?"

He grinned. How to answer? "I honestly don't recall. I was hoping someone nearby might be able to help with that." They both appeared in their thirties, lean but healthy as the taller of them pulled in his net, a flurry of activity within.

A chuckle from his companion. "Rough night, I take it. Ale can do that to you sometimes." With the way his leg throbbed, a fight wasn't out of the question either.

"I'm not sure," he smiled. "Are you traveling with a caravan?"

"We are," the fisherman informed as he pulled in his own net, muscles straining at the weight. "Just hoped for a catch to get us through the week long journey. Deer and rabbit gets old rather quickly."

"Don't let Percy hear you say that," his friend warned as he dragged his catch up to the beach. Deciding to make himself useful, he moved to assist. "I'm Michael by the way," the taller stated, his kind green eyes smiled as he tossed the fatter of the catch into a large basket. "And that's Robert."

"Pleasure." A long quiet moment went by as he evaluated those that Michael was keeping and tossed the smaller ones back into the sea.

Michael laughed. "That must've been some potent elixir to make you forget your own name."

An agreeing nod. "Must've been."

Page 2

Still hungry, the fish they now carried into the woods would be nice. His mouth watered, reminded by his groaning stomach which apparently hadn't been filled in a long time. Carrying the baskets between them, they navigated through the thick underbrush until soon reaching a large campsite. Men moved about, arms full of sleeping gear as well as armor and weapons.

"I told you they'd not return empty handed," a large, blonde mountain of a man stated as he dropped down from a wagon. His smile was as broad as the trio moved towards a large cookfire. "Percy, looks like you get to do some cleaning," he gazed towards an older, thin man as he set the basket down.

"Not I, they caught that mess," Percy stated, hands on hips as he glared. "Last thing we need in this hot sun is the stink of fish. You'll be smoking them, if Markus allows for the time. You know we're planning on leaving soon."

Robert removed a skinning knife from his belt and began gutting the first fish. "Don't worry, we'll be done before it's time to go."

Steel-grey eyes then rose to the newcomer. "Who's this? You catch him in your net also?"

"No, sir. I woke on the beach not far from where they were fishing," he informed, a bit embarrassed.

The large one laughed, his barotone voice echoing within the surrounding forest as Percy smiled. "Well, if you want to eat around here, you're going to have to earn it. Otherwise, you can start walking now."

"Absolutely, I'll help whereever I'm needed." At least he could secure a meal or two - hopefully soon.

"Start by digging a hole to bury those innards."

He quickly scanned the line of over ten wagons as the large one reached into the packed vehicle behind him and soon produced a shovel, turned and walked it to him. "I'm Weston by the way," his deep voice introduced as he handed over the simple tool.

"Nice to meet you," he grinned to the giant who stood nearly six-and-a-half feet.

"Pay no mind to the thin one there," he motioned to the cook. "He thinks he can threaten us with no dinner if he doesn't get his way, but I know how to cook also."

Percy huffed as he headed towards several leather packs. "Your meals would kill any normal person, the stink alone is enough."

Chuckling, he moved beyond the baskets and struck the dark ground and dug. As he excavated the shallow pit, he noticed the well organized team pack and secure their things while horses were guided to the fronts of each tall, wooden container whose dark grey walls told of long journeys. As he noted the progress of the cleaning, he realized that they would never complete the task in time.

"How long does it take to smoke the fish," he asked.

Robert kept to his task, neatly carving out the select meat. "We have a smoker on the cook's wagon," he explained as he tossed the refuse into the newly dug hole.

He nodded as brown eyes noticed an older, grey haired man in darker pants and long coat approach them. In his strong hand, he carried a small wrapped bundle which the tanned benefactor reached towards him. Blue eyes and grey van dyke held an authoritative aire about them as he received the gift.

"Eat up, it's going to be a long day and you look like you could use some energy. Water's in the barrels on the sides of the wagons," he motioned, then looked to the two fishermen. "You two need to speed up, time is money."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.

He unwrapped the small bundle and noted a slice of bread and cheese. "Thank you," he stated graciously.

A polite nod. "I'm Marcus, the owner of this caravan. What skills do you possess?"

Sighing, "I wish I could answer that, sir. But, I'll do whatever's required."

The merchant studied him for a long moment quietly. "Alright. You can help Percy gather firewood at our camps and whatever else he needs," he directed, then calmly walked away.

"Yes, sir." He ate hungrily and quickly noticed how empty he was as the food nearly disappeared in a flash, swallowing the last bits as he moved towards the nearest water barrel. As he went to lean the shovel against the tall barrel suspended from the framing posts for the wagon, it slipped and bounced against his right thigh. Once colliding with his pants, he heard a distinct metallic jingle in his pocket as he grabbed the handle and stood it closer to the shadow of the wooden side. Interest piqued, he reached into the pocket and felt a thin, metal strand which he pulled out. Observing the silver chain, he spied a small, round pendant which he fingered and raised it closer to notice a finely crafted message in one face.

'To Ryan with Love.'

Was that his name or had he stolen it from someone? A nervous wash cascaded down his spine as the revelation hit him. Perhaps it was best to keep his discovery to himself for now, he thought as he quickly shoved the necklace back into his pocket.

Page 1

As if stepping through a doorway, the unknown greeted the newcomer with the arid dryness and rough terrain of her next stop. Sunlight pierced the pine around her with the heat of midday as fiery rimmed, green eyes scanned her new surroundings full of life. Heartbeats from animals, large and small called to her from all directions, those nearest fleeing her presence as the hurried flap of wings burst from the surrounding boughs.

Another sound caught her attention as well: The cheering of a crowd.

Curious, Kailee navigated the gently sloping terrain towards what appeared to be west, over grass which vainly covered exposed, weathered rock. It wasn't long before the tumult gained in pitch and the twenty-one year old spied an oblong playing field surrounded on the north by stadium-like seating that commanded the higher side of the hill. A platform on the southern side topped with colonnaded sitting areas for those lounging on couches of red velvet. Overhangs of purple and blue trimmed in gold tassles gave them shade from the sun while servants in simple white gowns dutifully tended to their guests with wine and fruit.

In the center, she noticed naked men who's oiled tanned skin shone in the bright daylight, wrestling one another. Senses piqued at the quickened heartbeats of the competitors, their efforts kicking up dust that made up the shallow arena's floor. White robed men strolled about the competition between eight pairs, equally well built with woven, green ivy fastened to their dark hair. Some with beards, well trimmed, she realized this world was quite primitive compared to home.

Her interest in the games below nearly blinded her to the trio of younger boys moving along the nearby road to her left as their sandaled feet ran to the gated entry not a few yards beyond another pine. Having nothing to fear from these people, she did quickly deduce that her attire would make her stand out, being in simple woolen tunic of white and brown, riding pants with leather boots. Their white tunics tied about their waist with simple rope or leather belt, one of them glanced to his friend, then noticed the beauty in the treeline. His brown eyes widened as she realized that trying to hide was now a moot point.

No more than sixteen, they all looked up, noting their friend's interest as Kailee glanced back to the fight, appearing disinterested.

The language spoken as one by one, the losing wrestler was yanked aside by their supervisors, was easy to pick up as she listened. Since having entered the cave in the Hakkari Mountains a few years back, languages were one of her specialties.

Footsteps soon climbed the shallow hilltop and approached from the dusty road, green eyes glanced to her left to find the first spy near her, leaving his friends below.

"Greetings," he said, tentatively. "I've never seen you here before. Are you of Delphi?"

So, that was the name of the nearby town, she mused. "No," shaking her head as his heartbeat accelerated.

He moved forward a step, taking in her smooth lines as she leaned against the tree, arms crossed. "I've never seen one with such beauty. Are you of Zeus? I hear he's fathered many over the centuries."

Left brow perked at the suggestion. If only he knew, she grinned. "Would I be standing here so casually?"

With a grin, he relaxed somewhat. "Others have lived among men and become great heroes," he glanced down to the final pair who now locked in combat. "Fought foul beasts in the mountains, near Olympus. Faced Hades himself, some say," he looked at her again. Knowledge of their pantheon would help her fit in and she welcomed the names.

"How many of them have you met?"

With a shrug, he smiled. "None that I know of." Brown eyes carressed her face in wonder. "Though, I'd swear that I beheld one now," his dreamy reply as sweat beaded on his forehead and nose.

"What's your name?"

"Elaius, after my father. He's a stone carver," he stated proudly. "Yours?"

"Kailee."

Brow furrowed, "Macedonian?" Mentally scouring his mind for answers, she quickly deduced how fragile the relationships were between the city-states here. Presently being in the city known for it's oracles, Thebes would be better than the northern country renowned for their unstable kings.

"To be honest, I don't know where my father hails from. I grew up in Thebes."

An answer that seemed to quiet his concern a bit. "Ahh. Not a strong city, but fair nonetheless."

She hated lying to anyone about herself, for fear of dishonoring the memory of her family and friends, but these people didn't need to know the truth about her. Not right now, anyway. "Can one truly determine where they're born?"

Elaius chuckled. "No." He glanced down to his companions who watched them with interest, then back to her. "Where are you staying during the games? Is your mother here with you?"

"Only just arrived," emerald eyes motioned to the wrestling match that seemed it may have a winner finally. "Didn't want to miss it. And no, my mother isn't here."

He looked around her, then below and over the low stone wall before them. "Then who did you travel here with? Girls don't travel alone, normally."

I can go wherever I want, she mused and grinned. "Why? You think me weak?"

"You are a girl," he stated without hesitation. So, women were second class here. Interesting.

"I can take care of myself, trust me."

He looked her over again. "But you have no weapon. The road from Thebes is dangerous for a girl traveling by herself."

With a shrug, "I made it here".

"That you did." Applause erupted from the crowd as the dirt covered and bloodied victor was announced, hand raised as he bowed to the nobility, then strolled towards the near corner. "Then perhaps you would dine in my father's house tonight. He's invited most of the wealthy for a feast."

"We'll see."