NationStates Jolt Archive

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Steven Bradford - Ernest Puzo - Ramza Gabranth

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Fithos de Luroth - Vinosec Gantatilion - Xu Ocariot

I saw you look away…

Is what you've seen too much to take?

Or are you blind and seeing nothing?

I saw you run away…

Is what I’ve done too much to take?

Or are you scared of being nothing?

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“And you’ve told him?” General Jack Valkare asked, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. Yet again, he had put off sleep in place of things more important. His body, however, tended to disagree on what he deemed imperative.

“I made it quite clear,” Captain Ramza Gabranth replied from the bridge of the Sentinel. The ISS Sentinel, a Necromancer-Class Heavy Destroyer, was the ultimate culmination of every dream Captain Gabranth could ever remember. She was a strong ship, a fast ship, and a new ship, but most importantly, the Sentinel was his ship. “His secondary mission is to be imperative over the first, and it is to be kept secret from even his teammates.”

“Good work, Captain” Valkare said, smiling as Gabranth’s rank left his lips. He had not seen the man for approximately a year, and yet Gabranth’s progression up the chain of command was undoubtedly a result of two things. The first, of course, was the new Captain’s level of competency and leadership abilities, but these were to be expected, and were hardly enough to make the now-content General smile. No, the other thing which attributed to Gabranth’s rapid advancement was the personal recommendation Valkare had given the then-Commander following the Vespian incident. That was, ironically, the last time either man had spoken to each other.

“We will be arriving at Akeldama shortly,” Gabranth replied, checking the star charts. “The Aldebaran star is right ahead.”

“Can’t really be missed, can it?” Valkare said. Gabranth shook his head.

“Neither will the Akeldama in a few centuries I’m afraid,” the Captain replied. “With the way that star’s progressing, they’ll be forced to leave soon enough.”

“Which is exactly why we must act now,” Valkare responded, his tone serious, his eyes burning on screen. Gabranth nodded in agreement. He liked the General both as a leader and a person, something rare among Imperial military types.

The admiration was surprisingly mutual. As each passing day make the General more cynical, Valkare respected the young Captain in contrast. Gabranth was a gifted soldier, an insightful tactician, and an apt leader. The Captain was able far beyond his years, without the corruption and apathy that tended to come with age. And, Valkare thought to himself, Being a Captain at such a young age has many advantages. The General had been quickly promoted in his early years, and now controlled the entire Imperial military. Gabranth held similar possibilities.

As Gabranth and Valkare exchanged formal goodbyes, the Captain ceded the bridge to his second in command and walked into his ready room, informing his commander to inform him when they arrived at Akeldama. Gabranth pulled out his chair, the leather cold in his hand, and collapsed into it.

This would be the first action the Sentinel had seen, and the mission at hand could not be more important. It made sense to send him, a Captain of merely a few months, to such an engagement, for a more experienced vessel or Captain would have betrayed the lie sending Gabranth would only propagate. No, Captain Gabranth thought, sitting up and straightening his uniform the best he could while still seated, This had to appear to be simply for observation…

Gabranth looked down at the PADD he held in his hands, carefully reviewing the information they had collected on the people of Akeldama. A century ago they had been a primitive space-faring society, with war-capable starships and the ability to land and afterwards take off from foreign planets. Since that point, they had apparently made certain scientific breakthroughs, as reports on their starships now listed them outfitted in projectile weapons as well as nuclear warheads.

It was the combination of nuclear weaponry and long-distance traveling starship engines that put the Akeldama on the Imperial radar. Never a threat before, the damage potential the Akeldama now held had peaked the Emperor’s interest, as well as various other reports that did little to calm the Emperor’s nerves. After all, the Empire had border colonies easily within distance of Akeldama starships, thus making Imperial targets a real possibility for the Akeldama war machine.

Still, Gabranth thought to himself, an Akeldama attack would be nothing more than death certificate. No foreign government had so much as fired a weapon towards the Orion Sector in centuries, in fear of certain and definite ramifications. The Akeldama glorified war to be sure, the young Captain mused, but he sincerely doubted that their affection for death was quite the same.

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Dr. Steven Bradford leaned back in the plush chair he sat in and closed his eyes. The Sentinel even smelled new. At once, both pride and jealousy blitzed his mind, swirling around his consciousness until one was indeterminable from the other. This was his brother’s ship, the ultimate achievement of a man who had wanted a starship of his own for as long as Steven had known him, and Steven couldn’t help feeling just a bit in awe of the good fortune Gabranth had received since they last had spoken, a bit over a year ago.

Then again, since that last day above Vespia, Steven hadn’t quite been dealt a poor hand. His essay on the Vespian people, and what had come to be known as “The Vespian Incident” in the year since its occurrence, had finally earned Steven his much desired doctorate. As a ship had been his brothers, a doctorate had been his dream as long as he could remember.

The essay itself, however, had given him much more than a degree. The entire situation had exposed Steven to relative fame within the scientific community, and the young biologist soon found himself on magazine covers and late night talk shows. Book deals and interviews soon followed, and quickly Steven’s life and experiences became analyzed, sensationalized, and documented. Imperial Life had even given him “Man of the Year” honors, a title usually reserved for corporate CEO’s and even the Emperor on occasion.

Still, as Steven sat in his older brother’s chair, traveling in his older brother’s massive and newly christened starship, Steven couldn’t help but feel jealous. After all that he accomplished, he truly had no reason to, but the feeling was there nonetheless. It didn’t so much anger him than it annoyed him for feeling like that, but he could not deny the envy that always seemed to manifest itself when he came around Gabranth.

“They better be as exciting as the Empire claims them to be,” Dr. Ernest Puzo muttered to nobody in particular as he stared out one of the ship’s many windows, watching as the stars flew by at faster than light speed. Ernest was quite famous in his own right, a renowned historian and author. It was his writing skills which had brought him into contact with the “Man of the Year,” and it was his writing skills which had prompted Steven to bring him along.

Dr. Puzo had won numerous awards for his books, both fiction and non, and he intended to the first to write of the relatively unknown Akeldama culture. Merely having his name on its cover all but guaranteed a book to be a best seller any more, and Ernest hoped that with a subject far more interesting than his typical drab, the stores wouldn’t be able to keep his story in stock. He scratched the orange hair atop his head and squeezed his eyes together tightly. The headache he had for the past three hours had yet to go away.

“I seriously doubt you’ll be disappointed,” Steven replied, deep in thought. His mind returned to the meeting he had with Gabranth moments ago. This was far from a simple observation expedition, and the stress of the Empire’s expectations weighed on his shoulders, effectively ruining his mood. He had been looking forward to this trip.

“I hear that the Akeldama only make up about one forth of their planet’s population,” Dr. Puzo said in amazement. His eyes grew wide in amazement. “And that they enslave the rest!”

“They also apparently have some interesting ideas in regards to women,” Steven muttered, thinking back to Marissa. She would certainly have had something to say about that. Steven looked at Ernest and shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” Ernest nodded, resuming his focus on the stars.

Gabranth had told him, and him alone, of the true nature of their mission. Steven sighed thinking back on it.

“The Empire has severe concerns with the new Praetor of Akeldama,” his brother had said. “He does not have the respect of his warrior society. We fear that he may try to gain their respect by launching an attack on the Empire.”

“But that’d be suicide!” Steven had exclaimed. “They would be crushed!”

“But this young Praetor would go down in their history as the only leader brave enough to attack the Empire,” Gabranth had replied. His voice then lowered, his tone growing serious. “And the Empire believes that he is developing some sort of new weapon to unleash.”

Steven shook his head. He was a scientist, damnit, not a secret agent. His excursions and subsequent failures in Vespia had proven that fact beyond any doubt. Still, it was the plan of the Empire for them to appear just interested in the Akeldama culture. Science was now nothing more than his cover, and Steven felt miserable betraying not only his craft, but the only true love of his life.

He gazed over at Ernest, who was seemingly entranced by the passing stars, and wondered if he would ever be allowed to tell. Either way it didn’t matter. Gabranth’s, and therefore the Empire’s, secret was his and his alone, effectively making this alternative objective only his as well. Steven frowned, wondering yet again how a career in biology had led him down such a dangerous path.

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“You embarrass me…” Praetor Fithos de Luroth told his fiancée as softly as he could while still being forceful. Once again she had spoken out of line. Once again she had made a fool of him.

“You should not feel threatened by a woman!” Xu Ocariot shouted in reply. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and tried her hardest to fight them off. Now was not the time for her emotions to betray her words, but she had already said too much.

“You will learn respect,” Fithos said quietly but with anger, reluctantly backhanding her across her face. Xu took a step back, grabbing her cheek in her hands before running down the hall so her future husband could not see her cry. Fithos felt miserable.

“Quite a tongue that one’s got,” Viceroy Vinosec Gantatilion grunted, his arms folded across his chest and his head shaking in disgust. He was an older man who had not yet lost the strength of youth. Ever the warrior, Vinosec took his role in society far more serious than most.

“More than most,” the young Praetor replied, sighing. Unlike his Viceroy, his role in Akeldama society had always seemed no less than forced upon him. He found no joy in slapping his future bride, but he found far less in her continuing to undermine him in public. That had to stop.

“If only they could have seen it,” Viceroy Gantatilion muttered, staring out the window to the city over which they ruled. Fithos turned away, fully aware of the “they” Vinosec referred to.

“They” thought he was weak, and the worst part was, according to “their” standards, he was. More people placed his name with disdain than honor, and it sickened Fithos to think of the opinions of his subjugates. Still, he knew what was best for Akeldama, did he not? After all, was he not the leader for a reason?

It was a question hotly debated throughout the streets, even in the Praetorian Palace itself. The peace Akeldama lately held had put the young Praetor at a severe disadvantage among his peers. Fithos was not, as everyone who was quickly pointed out at any occasion, a veteran of war. For the Akeldama, this was the biggest drawback one could have.

It was the opinion of many, including his Viceroy, that Fithos was unfit for rule, for no other reason than that. No other reason mattered as much. Still, Fithos had been chosen by the previous Praetor, a man of great respect, and no one was about to undermine so great a man posthumously. Having Vinosec Gantatilion, a decorated war hero, as his Viceroy helped Fithos as well. Gantatilion was ultimately both the Praetor’s best friend and biggest critic.

“Their trust in me shouldn’t be swayed by the words of my wife,” Fithos shot back, soon after realizing how close his statement was to that of his fiancée’s. Was she against him as well?

“Then their leader should give them no reason for doubt,” Vinosec replied. He strongly grasped the shoulder of the Praetor, his form of comfort. “You can’t merely look strong, Fithos. You have to be strong.”

Fithos slouched his shoulders in defeat. Yet again, his Viceroy had proved who the better man was, without so much as lifting a finger. These occurrences had been growing far too common as of late.

“Now…about these foreigners…” Vinosec began, trying his luck with his current hold on the Praetor. Instantly, Fithos’ defiance returned.

“There is to be not another word of it,” Fithos ordered, pulling away from his Viceroy. “Our people have been blind to the universe for too long. There is so much out there…so much to be had…it’s time I opened their eyes.”

“And what about those who would rather live in the dark?” Vinosec asked, his tone dark. He twisted his face into a look of disgust. “When what is light is so vile, blindness is the only option.”

“You fear change,” the Praetor replied. “A fear just as weak as any other.”

“There is beauty in darkness,” his Viceroy snapped in response, insulted. “It’s a shame that you cannot see it. I wonder…is it really the people who are blind?”

Fithos walked to his window, clasping his hands behind his back as he stared down to the streets. Merchants were selling wares, warriors were training in the square, and children sparred with plastic guns and swords. Women cooked food for the soldiers and the police, while others washed uniforms and other clothes for there husbands. Far from the city, deep in the desert, weapons and starships were being produced at rates previously unheard of. Their entire culture was devoted to war, and yet so many of them were reluctant to take the steps necessary to perfect their ultimate craft.

“How does a blind man see himself?” Fithos asked, turning around to face his Viceroy.

“Sir?” Vinosec asked. The question had caught him off guard.

“What does a blind man think he looks like in his mind?” Fithos continued, but his Viceroy simply stared at him in confusion. Not deterred, Fithos persisted. “Is his mental vision of himself accurate? Is it even close? After all, Vinosec, what reference does he have? What comparison can he possible possess?”

“I suppose he would never know what he really looks like unless he could somehow see himself,” the Viceroy replied, still unsure where Fithos was going with this.

“Exactly,” Fithos replied. “And unless we open our eyes to the universe around us, we will never truly know what we are…what we look like.” Vinosec growled, not appreciating the metaphor he now found himself caught up in. “I am to be a mirror,” Fithos said, smiling for the first time in days. “I am to be he who shows the blind man his reflection. I will be he who opens Akeldama’s eyes.”

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Dr. Steven Bradford sighed as he boarded one of the two dropships that would soon be en route to the planet Akeldama. One would carry the scientists, the other taking soldiers to act as guards. He sat in his assigned seat, securing his items and tools in their respective places, and strapping himself down by memory. It had been around a year since he had last boarded such a vessel, and the memories involved were hardly those of joy.

The scar Marissa’s death had caused was not physical. However, unlike wounds to the flesh which healed over time, merely leaving behind a faded memory, the death of his best friend, the burden which he carried deep within, still stung to this day. Her betrayal, and subsequent redemption in what would be her final moments, both permanently disfigured his memory, blurring the beauty of the friendship they once shared.

Rubbing his left eye with the respective hand, he fought back feelings of depression with the impending dread of the reality his mission now held. Steven shivered, for the dropship was cold, but Akeldama was almost entirely desert, and he had dressed for the occasion. Now, however, he wished he had brought a coat.

“Are they typically this late?” Dr. Ernest Nuzo, who was strapped into the seat beside Steven, asked. He had a look of both excitement and impatience about him, and it was easy to tell that he wanted to get down to Akeldama as fast as possible. History waited for no one.

“Their transportation protocols are a bit more complex then ours,” Steven chuckled in response. As Imperial citizens, little caution had to be taken in regards to travel, but since the others, who were citizens of their respective nations, would be stepping off of an Imperial vessel to greet the Akeldama, they would in turn be representing an Empire they claimed no allegiance to. Precautions had to be taken to avoid any embarrassments.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have kept this in-house,” Ernest muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Steven noted that Ernest had brought a jacket and was wearing it now. He didn’t seem the least bit cold. “Are our scientists somehow less able?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Steven replied, shrugging. “But I do know that I’m on familiar terms with most of these people personally. Our focus needs to be on learning about the Akeldama, not learning each others’ names.”

“Some Vespian bond,” Ernest sneered. Steven rolled his eyes. Not again… “Oh yes…I read your book. Not bad for a first try.” To this, Steven could only smile to himself. His account of the Vespian culture, including the incident he and the others had found themselves in, was still holding strong to the number one spot in sales. Ernest’s most recent book was no higher than seven.

“Millions of people agree tend to agree with you,” Steven replied. “‘Not Bad’”

“So who are these people?” Ernest asked, diverting the subject from book sales for obvious reasons.

“If you read the book you’d know,” Steven commented, thinking back on Sun, Simon, James, and Chris. His memories of them were fond, but like all memories of his anymore, the memory of Marissa seemed to take over, infecting his past.

It was then that Steven realized he hadn’t told any of them that the rest were coming along. He hadn’t “assembled the team,” or “planned a reunion,” or anything of the sort. He had seeked each one of them out individually, much at his own expense, and convinced each to journey with him to another planet, observing another civilization. Steven shook his head at the thought of the troubles he had to go through to get Chris allowed to come.

“This time would be different,” he had told them. They would not, after all, be hiding out in some secret lab, observing the Akeldama from afar with a constant fear of being discovered, as they had the Vespians. No, their lab would be in a building centered in the Akeldama capital, their living quarters in a hotel across the street, specially constructed for their arrival. The Spartan rooms of most Akeldama hotels were abandoned in favor of the plush dwellings the scientists would be living in.

“I do hope indoor climate control is not considered ‘unfit for a warrior,’” Captain Gabranth muttered as he stepped aboard the dropship. He would be meeting with the Akeldama Praetor personally, acting as an unofficial ambassador for the Emperor.

“Even simple air conditioning would work,” Ernest replied. “But if I find myself sweating while I sit at my desk there will be hell to pay.”

“Is that so?” Gabranth asked, and both he and Steven chuckled, momentarily breaking the tension between them. The Captain briefly spoke with the dropship pilot before strapping himself into his respective seat. While the other seats were on either wall of the back of the dropship, facing inwards towards each other, Gabranth’s seat was placed near the front, facing the hatch door at the rear of the vessel, and once more signifying that he was the leader. “I’m sure,” Gabranth said, a wry smile on his tan face, “that the Akeldama warriors would fear your ‘witty’ words and ‘clever’ book titles.”

“‘The pen is mightier than the sword,’” Ernest quoted in response. Captain Gabranth shook his head in disagreement.

“Only when you are stabbing someone with said pen,” Gabranth replied. “‘Actions speak louder than words,’” Gabranth said, repeating an equally famous, and yet contradictory quote. “You can write of say, revolution, all you want. But until you raise arms and actually revolt, words ring hollow.”

“Besides,” Steven laughed. “If it truly are witty words that the Akeldama warriors fear, perhaps we should use mine and not Dr. Puzo’s.” Both he and Gabranth chuckled again, much to Ernest’s discontent.

One by one, each of the others boarded the dropship, each more astonished than the next to see who was strapped into the seats around them. None had seen Gabranth in the year following their hasty rise from the blood-stained soil of Vespia, and yet while each had seen Steven a few months prior, the reunion of sorts that was taking place on the Imperial dropship was, if nothing else, unexpected.

As they chatted on, asking the typical questions and giving the typical responses reunions typically produced, Steven once again was lost in thought. They had all been on a similar dropship en route to Vespia, making nervous introductions to each other. Steven remembered the gorgeous Sun, the childish Chris, the typical Simon, and the reserved James. Now, if his individual meetings earlier with them all were any indication, there were definitely some differences.

The two dropships disengaged from the Sentinel, shaking the cabins momentarily. The engines simultaneously ignited, and the vessels quickly thrust themselves out the open bay doors and into space. Within minutes they had entered the planet Akeldama’s upper atmosphere, and before any of them really had time to do anything, the ships had already landed on the capital.

The rear hatch to the dropship flew open, and soldiers, in full ODIN Battle Armor were standing before them. The other dropship had already landed in preparation for the safety of their captain and the scientists. Steven unstrapped himself to find that Gabranth already had on the way down and was now walking out the exit, addressing his troops in preparation for their rendezvous with the Akeldama.

In the distance, Steven could see buildings set around lush greenery and palm trees, betraying the report of a desert wasteland. The oasis the capital was built on seemed little more than a tropical paradise, if not a decidedly urban one. Breathing in the excessively hot, but dry, Akeldama air, Steven concluded that he wouldn’t mind breathing it for however long they would have to remain on the planet. As the restraints lifted from his shoulder to above his head, Steven stood up.

Instantly, he sat back down. The gravity of Akeldama was at least twice that of the Imperial capital of Steel Butterfly, which itself had elevated gravity levels compared to planets such as Esthar VIII and Earth. Steven groaned, sluggishly gathering his things while still seated, preparing to stand once more. Instantly his jealousy of his brother returned, for if Gabranth was hindered by the weight of the air, he certainly hid it well, the military man’s muscular body making it far easier for him to go about his business.

Steven managed to finally exit the dropship just in time to see his brother shaking hands with numerous men. The Akeldama guard then quickly parted, making way for two other men, one young, one old, who were gradually walking towards the drop point.

“Welcome,” the younger man said, extending his hand to the young Captain. Gabranth reached for the handshake, but the man’s hand reached farther than Gabranth’s hand, instead clasping the Captain’s forearm. Taking the difference in stride, Gabranth did the same, and the young man seemed impressed. He smiled, and then spoke. “I am Praetor Fithos de Luroth, Premier of Akeldama.” Fithos motioned towards the man to his right. “This is Vinosec Gantatilion, my Viceroy.” Captain Gabranth extended his arm to give Vinosec the same greeting, but the Viceroy stepped back, away from the Captain’s outstretched arm, and saluted instead. Gabranth quickly gathered himself and returned the gesture.

“I am Captain Ramza Gabranth of the Imperial Starship Sentinel,” Gabranth said, glad that the Akeldama spoke Basic English. The only other language he knew somewhat was Aurelian, but then again, no one spoke Aurelian anymore. “I come representing the Star Empire of the Orion Sector, baring greetings from our Emperor, his highness David Christopher Bivens.”

Steven looked on at his brother from afar, impressed to say the least. In the face of a foreign leader, Gabranth seemed calm, cool, and collected. The Imperial Captain almost seemed to dwarf the Praetor in strength of personality. Gabranth personified confidence, and as always, Steven’s admiration quickly turned to jealousy yet again.

“Viceroy Gantatilion will show you to your living quarters,” Praetor de Luroth told the scientists and the soldiers. He then grabbed Captain Gabranth by the shoulders, obviously excited to see him. “You, Captain, will come with me. We have much to discuss…and I have quite a lot to show you.”

And so Steven followed the Viceroy and his fellow scientists as the Imperial and Akeldama soldiers briefly exchanged glances of mild resentment. As it stood now, there were no signs which would lead Steven to suspect a sidious super weapon plot, nor were there signals indicating a plan to attack the Empire. Nevertheless, as Steven had learned the hard way on Vespia, these things were often not as they seemed.

Praetor de Luroth cast open the giant doors before him with his hands, taking a moment to observe his own brilliance, and then sauntered into what would appear to be his office. Captain Gabranth quickly followed, and the massive doors closed shut behind him.

The room Gabranth now found himself in was at least seven stories tall. Its open, vaulted ceilings did nothing to avert his eyes from an exalted use of diamonds that now surrounded him. Gabranth turned around, observing the beauty laid before him, and looked back at the Praetor in confusion.

“You like it?” Fithos asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Captain Gabranth replied honestly.

“I hear not even your Emperor has décor such as this,” the young Praetor said, a small hint of pride in his voice. Gabranth nodded in reply.

“The Emperor typically…invests his money,” the Captain said. Fithos’ expression instantly changed, now gazing upon his extravagance with disdain. Gabranth took notice almost as quickly. “Still…he has many other ways of displaying his wealth.” Praetor de Luroth nodded, feeling somewhat better about his profligate office. He turned, opening a safe which held within it various bottles of various shapes.

“Perhaps someday I will meet the man himself,” Fithos said, twisting the cap off of one of the bottles and pouring the liquid into a small glass.

“Far from isolationists,” Gabranth said, still scanning the office with his eyes. The feeling that it had been newly decorated just for his arrival had begun to seep in, and his dismissal of it probably hadn’t registered well. Perhaps there was someway he could make it up to the man.

“You’ll find that I am far from my predecessors,” Fithos replied, pulling another glass from the shelf.

“I never knew your predecessors,” Gabranth said regretfully. “Doubt I even knew of them.” Fithos smiled, feeling far more regret than the young Captain. He poured the same liquid into the second glass, turned around, and offered it to Gabranth.

“A drink?” the Praetor asked. Gabranth grinned in reply, accepting the glass. It would be easier to compensate for his disapproval of the room than he had previously thought.

The liquor was stiff. It burned Gabranth’s throat as he swallowed it. Still, the Captain, hardly a virgin to the bottle, took the punishment well. Fithos hardly seemed phased.

“Men are disguised by sobriety,” Fithos said, now in good spirits behind his glass. “But a personality is a terrible thing to hide.”

“Pardon me for being blunt,” Gabranth said, taking another drink from his glass. It burned less this time, and the Captain figured that he was either warming up to it or it was far stronger than he originally thought. “But I get the impression that not many others here share your…infatuation for…personality.”

“Let me show you something,” Praetor de Luroth said, walking across his office, past Gabranth, and to the other side.

From a diamond-encrusted case on the diamond-encrusted mantel above the diamond-encrusted fireplace, Fithos took out a rather ordinary looking pistol. Upon realizing with the Praetor held in his hand, Gabranth instantly rose from his seat, dropping the glass on the floor. His hand quickly shifted to his side, gripping the hilt of his pistol with his right hand. Fithos, though, waved his other hand, a smile and apologetic eyes showing his true intentions.

“I apologize,” the Praetor said, stepping towards Gabranth. The Captain’s hand was still readied on his pistol, but Fithos held his own in both hands by the fingertips, as if making an offering to a god. “This…this is the most beautiful thing I own…”

Gabranth looked down on the pistol, wondering to himself what was so beautiful about it. Was it the symbolism of a killing tool? Was it the simplicity of the weapon itself? Did the pistol hold a certain meaning to the Praetor? Gabranth struggled to find beauty in it.

“Here,” Fithos said, stretching his hands out to Gabranth, offering the gun up to the Captain. Gabranth took his hand off his own gun and held the Praetor’s in its stead, wrapping his fingers around the cold metal and looking down on it with suspicion. Fithos crossed his one arm behind his back, pointing towards the far wall with the other. Following the Praetor’s finger, Gabranth saw what obvious was a target. “In my country, it is an honor above no other to be the first to fire a newly crafted weapon,” Fithos said. He then shrugged. “It is also considered good luck.”

Captain Gabranth raised the pistol towards the target, clasping it in both hands with his right finger on the trigger. He squinted his right eye, staring down the small sights. A veteran of small arms to say the least, Captain Gabranth breathed out slowly, pulling the trigger. The gun fired, a brilliant blue blaze extended from the barrel, and the force from the energy emitted tore through the target, into the wall behind it. Gabranth paused, dumbfounded by the technology the Praetor had just let him display.

“I wasn’t aware that…” Gabranth started, staring down at the pistol he held as his mind raced. They were not supposed to have technology on this level. They were not supposed to be beyond simple projectiles.

“I’ve come so far,” Fithos said, once again gazing down on the people he governed. “I just need you to help me convince them to follow.”

Sun really spoke to no one on the trip there. The woman was asleep for most of the time, though it was hard to tell due to her serenity. She had had a very long week, with a good many surprises and a new job. She had spoken with the Empress herself and was hired to work one on one with the leading department to produce vaccines, antidotes, and a good many other things. It was difficult however. Sun’s blood had been pure; her DNA perfect. Last year, she had been injected with Vespian blood. She was infected with something that made her undetectable from scanners. She rested her head on Simon’s shoulder as she awoke. She was feeling drowsy as of late, but for now her need for rest was satiated, and as they landed, she stood up along with Simon, and followed with the group. She didn’t know if she would see anyone from the Vespian expedition besides Simon. The two had been spending a lot of time together, and Simon had moved into her apartment, which recently turned into a house along the beach due to the upgrade in financial income. Honestly, she was very well off now more so than before. She would find out soon if the Vespian blood had any implications however, and prayed that it did not. She was not the only one she was concerned with.

Trying to remain inconspicuous for Sun was a very hard thing to accomplish. Her fiery, silken, long auburn hair glistened in the sun bringing out copper and golden hues amongst the brown strands. Her hair was down, straight but curling at the ends. It was layered slightly, which gave it more body and quite the appealing twist. Her hair was pulled neatly into a white elastic band, though long side swept bangs were free of restraint and framed her now sun kissed skin earned from days out on the beach. She wore a black long sleeve shirt made out of a lycra material that cinched down the middle with a V neckline. She wore the cross from the temple around her neck on a more fitting silver chain. She had embellished it with The Three United Empires rare black diamonds as well as reinforced the silver with adamantine. It was smaller than Baralai’s cross, more feminine. It had been a gift from the Empress who had a keen eye for jewels. Sun did as well. She had a pair of black diamond studs in the four delicate piercings in her ears, two on either. Again, a gift from the empress. When Sun was not working, she would tend to a temple occasionally and share her story of Baralai, and how she had escaped death. It was not done in a boastful way, but more in thanks and prayer than anything. Apart from her new jewelry, she wore a white skirt that had white buttons down the front that cut off just above the knee and black boots. It wasn’t any of the aforementioned which first caught the attention of someone, it was her eyes. Her eyes remained their unearthly blue. They were deep in hue; slightly darker than a royal blue peering between black lashes.

Sun didn’t take Simon’s hand. This was professional, of course. They had their time together in private, and by the engagement ring on her left hand, things had gone quite well. What more could a woman want than a man that both loves her and cooks. Since normally during the week Sun was rather busy with work, and Simon had his own work to complete, it was nice being able to take food with her knowing that it would far outweigh anything that chefs there could provide. While the supreme cooking was a benefit, it wasn’t what had won her over. It was the experience on Vespia which had brought them together, and it was her experience there which changed her outlook on life. While hers may be undetectable, she was alive. Life was too short to live on regrets, so she took a change, and now…she had a new life.

Chris had chosen to make his appearance early. He didn't want to meet anyone and really didn't care at all. The only person he was grateful for was Steven...and that's because the man got him out of the "Underworld.

Getting him sane again was a different story. That was what his real old friend was there for. Erik Mussein walked nearby Chris silently jotting a few notes on his datapad and occasionally looking up and out of his thin glasses at his surroundings.

Erik was mildly built, enough muscle fend for himself, but was very skinny. He was about six foot one, about an inch and a half shorter than Chris. Not to mention he was very pale, almost to an unnatural glow. The man's angular face gave off the impression of a mouse...a very tall, humanoid mouse with black hair and blue eyes. He was never such a talkative one, atleast not compared to Chris.

The old Chris. The one seen in Vespia, the one with a sense of humor. Not the cruel mockery that was now present in his boots, clad in shirt as black and void as space with mathcing pants and combat boots.

But that wasn't the only change in Chris, definately not. His once handsome and smiling face now seemed to sport an ever present frown, a compliment to the long thin scar that clipped the edge of his eyebrow and ended at the middle of his cheek. A memory of a good time, he would say. His dark brown hair was up in small spikes that remained hard as a rock, unwavering as he moved towards the transport.

"This is it," Chris said gruffly, stopping suddenly, his hand finding its way into his pocket and shuffling with something.

"Don't tell me you brought it, Chris. You were told not to," Erik said as he noticed the movement.

"Shut up. It's a stress reliever and your masters told you to make sure I have something to relieve myself of stress," Chris replied without looking back at his old friend.

Erik sighed. How did Chris get like this? This isn't the Chris I know...this isn't the Chris I remember. I remember I needed Chris' help not the other way around. Indeed, throughout High School, Chris and Erik had been best friends, cheering each other up, mostly Chris giving Erik the boost in confidence he always needed. No one picked on Erik while Chris was around because, who didn't enjoy the joker?

"Atleast you didn't bring the blade."

Chris grinned menacingly as he began to walk back to the drop ship. He turned his head briefly to make sure a small wheeled robot was following along.

XR-54N was his latest augmentation to one of his most cherished possessions...something he had not seen for half a year. At one point, the robot was named COW, a Camera on Wheels, however when certain incidents happened in Vespia that resulted in certain predicaments that happened at home, he decided to redesign the automaton. No more memories, no more crying, no more of anything. Someone he cherished had died on Vespia and with it, so did Chris and COW.

XR was painted black as well, to suit the new Chris, and rather than the more comforting, playful robotic look and programming of more of a bubble-like shape, this one was angular and sharp, like it was made out of violent thoughts.

Erik jumped out of the way as the robot nearly rammed into his leg and followed behind Chris like a loyal dog, and up the ramp to the ship.

As Chris walked in, he paused at the doorway to see who else was there. He recognized the one who brought him here, Steven, but he was with another man. Someone he didn't know.

Chris decided to ignore the unknown man and walked up to Steven, his boots clanking underneath. "Steven, it's good to see you again. Although I am not sure what to expect on an expedition, nor how you'll find a use for me. Unless you want someone murdered by common household items or the like," Chris gave off a chuckle and walked to a dark corner at the front of the dropship, sitting down so he could face the entrance without anyone noticing he was there.

Behind him, Erik walked through the entrance and smiled at the men in front of him. "Greetings, friends of Chris. I am Erik Mussein...a doctor and an old friend of Chris," he glanced at the man in the corner, before adding in a whisper, "And hopefully someone that can loosen him up again. He's had a very very rough time."

After their greetings, Erik took up a seat next to Chris, making sure not to step on XR along the way, who parked itself next to Chris' seat.

Erik frowned as the light provided little in being able to write or read and carefully packed his note pad into his bag that carried all the things he would need. His own bag was relatively smaller than Chris', probably because Chris brought a lot of spare robot parts and, as much as Erik was hoping he didn't, tools of a new trade.

The scream echoed around the chamber, even against the rushing roaring sound of the furnace eeking out plasma into the room you could still hear it.

Red.

Red.

Red.

He was seeing Red, blood was covering his eyes as he turned and looked at his tattered charred stump that had been his right arm, he screamed in agony again.

Red.

Red.

Red.

He really was seeing red, after all, it was the colour of his eyes, well, his new eye at least.

“Elijah! Snap out of it and get back!” snapped the voice.

“Hmm” Elijah merely replied, he stood, his cloak flapping gently of the building, peering out into the camp itself with a steely unblinking gaze. Mind, that was because his new eye came without an eyelid, and was partly made of steel but still.

“Its pretty obvious that they’re not going to get it out today, its been over an hour since the agreed rendezvous, get back to the Skimmer and head back.”

“Hmm.”

“You actually going to speak a word of English or just grunt? I spent a bloody long time on that new jaw of yours so don’t rust it up from a lack of use!” snapped the voice back.

It was at that point Elijah smiled at the little face in the top right hand corner of his vision.

The face was that of a young girl, brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and she shook her head and sighed heavily.

“Sarcastic git.” she muttered before apparently stabbing something which squeaked somewhere off camera. “Well if you don’t keep still then I will keep prodding that dammit, now stay still while I actually sort out the power feed to your anti-grav unit.”

Elijah sighed, the sun glinting slightly off of the right-hand side of his face, the metal and glass of his implants always itched a little in this heat, thankfully Fran had at least added a coolant system under the surface to stop him from going mental as a result of just a darn itch.

“Fine, I’ll do tomorrow also then.” Elijah spoke for the first time in hours, his gravely voice crackled slightly as it was received by Fran, she sighed and shook her head.

“You know its my turn tomorrow, and I fully intend to do it, there’s a market on also so I want to get some parts for these guys.” there was another squeak and a round object floated away before slamming into a doorframe in the background and sinking slowly to the floor.

“Dammit all Risk!” shouted Fran as she leapt up and went to look at the sphere which was twitching on the floor of the coolly lit workshop.
“Sorry Elijah, I got to go, just get back already will ya?” The image folded and vanished.

Elijah turned and vanished, simply vanished from sight.

The Akeldaman Policeman merely blinked and rubbed his eyes, this was driving him insane, genuinely insane, he had been tailing this man all the way from the marketplace for him to just stare sorrowfully at the Prisoner camp where the Laeroxian scum got what they deserved. For the third time this week this off-worlder had simply vanished before his very eyes, the third! It was becoming incredibly hard to explain this away to his superiors every time he lost him in places that tended to have few people in them.

He heard a small clank behind him and began to turn when he suddenly found himself hefted off of his feet.

“Voi shet magir! Vastla veer magir!”

Elijah grinned toothily “Sorry, my translator is turned off.” he then threw the policeman off of the roof. He chuckled darkly as he heard him shriek before hitting something which sounded like it splintered, which was odd considering the fact that there were very few trees on this planet. With a whirl of his cloak he was gone.

----------------------------------------------

Fran picked the ball up off of the floor and tutted maternally.
“Stay still or this time I’ll just turn you off and weld you to the table, Risk!” she snapped at the orb in her hands, the top half span around so two green semi-circles were looking at her.

“You kept poking me!” it squeaked in reply, a slightly childish voice with an artificial ring to it.

“Yes, because you keep over-amping your anti-grav unit.” her brow becoming knitted with annoyance.

“But I wanna go faster!” it chipped back as it tried to jump out of her arms.

“Ok, that’s it, good night Risk.” she said in a sing-song voice as she tapped a button on the top “lid” of the ball.

“No I don-” the eyes dulled.

Setting it back down on the table she sighed and blinked tiredness out of her eyes before grabbing her tools back and began working. She heard some chattering from a room just off of the workshop and shook her head.
She decided that playing with the communications AI to make the drones seem more human was the biggest mistake of her career.

----------------------------------------

Carl sighed as he lowered the telescope from his eye.
“Interesting.” he muttered, his eye piece flicked down with a tiny click.
“Seems they have visitors, offworlders too by the looks of it.” he muttered as an avatar of Elijah, sans his “new look” as they called it, appeared.
“That what the heebee geebees telling you?” retored Elijah with a smirk.
Carl tutted and rolled his green eyes in frustration.
“No, from this improved monocular Fran made,” Carl replied nasally with a slight snarl, “the body language and the fact everyone’s heartbeats are u- hold on a second.” He fell silent as he moved back and forth a couple of times, he then grabbed a tiny plug from the top of the eye piece and studded it into the monocular.

“Take a look at this you two.” he muttered as he bought the feed from the camera up on his eye piece, and then fed the image through to the others.

“Woah, nice piece of arse there, you have a good eye Carl, a good eye indeed.”

“Not that you idiot!” snapped Carl. “Look at her heart rate.”

“Zero? What the? Could it be a fault?” Fran frowned as she dragged a keyboard from nowhere and tapped it a few times. “Pan it over the dudes in the suits. Then her again.”

Carl did so and watched the numbers, 120, 126, 139, 0, 123.

Zero, definitely Zero.

“The hell? Its showing up as it did on Vespia, how’s that work?” she muttered as she tapped again.

“Um, guys? Anything suspiciously familiar with those folks and the suits? Infact the drop ships too..” Carl trailed off as he thought for a second or two.

“Vespia? Those idiots? The pretty-boys that let one of the savages get away? Oh lordly we’re screwed.” Fran shook her head and buried her face into her hands.

“Uh?” muttered both Carl and Elijah at the same time.

“Take a look yourselves.” she sighed as she shook her head and tapped a few keys again.

A small image with “Cup-Cam” in the corner flickered in, in which the pale outline of a man could be seen dashing through the trees, two followed behind, one was the woman that Carl had panned the Monocular over, it hurriedly focussed in on the two pursuing figures and moved slightly through the trees, the woman looked up and peered in the direction of the camera before saying something, the image paused as an animal looking man leapt upon the two figures.

“What the heck she saying? Looks like ‘Beer rally’? Wha?”

“Dunno, but it seems it was Cup’s movement that brought her to say it.” Fran with a sigh shrugged and slumped back into her chair with a slightly resigned look. “Seems we’re absolutely screwed here, if we cannot get the rest of those parts out as planned because these guys order another invasion fleet in…”

“Fine, we’ll keep an eye on them instead, cover up their screw-ups , that way if it all goes to pot we can prevent it from sliding so far out as to completely destroy what we’re doing here.” Elijah coughed. “Ok, I’m back at the skimmer, just waiting on you now Carl.” Elijah’s image vanished.

“I’ll stay a short while longer, see what’s happening here first.” Carl muttered as he panned the camera around a few times, clicking it between various modes as he watched from afar.

James had been among the first to arrive, after Steven and his companions, and after Chris, but before the others. He had merely sat there, his case of belongings, just barely recovered from the Vespian Incident despite his girlfriend's best attempts to drag him 'shopping', at his feet, and he had looked at a PDA he had brought with him. It was filled with clips of his house, of his family, of the love of his life, and he just watched them, small headphones slipped into his ears to avoid bothering the Chris he didn't know anymore, and he lost himself in memories of home. His two children, his loving girlfriend. The PDA had been a gift from her and had an engraving on the cover. Simple, to the point. To his name, love from her name. He carried it with him everywhere.

He was still watching a video of his youngest son crawling around and trying to eat some educational blocks, when, unexpectedly to him, Simon and Sun had entered. He hadn't known of their presence, though he had guessed and hoped when he had seen Chris. He stood up, letting the headphones drop onto his seat and pausing the video, and he embraced his friend and his fiancée. He hadn't seen Simon since he had given James the news, but he was overjoyed for his friend, who had expressed his desire to 'bug you until you ask too'. After expressing his quiet congratulations, not wishing to bother the others, and not knowing if they even wanted to keep it a secret.

Simon himself seemed much the same as before. He was cheerful, grinning, and very happy. Dressed fairly simply, in a white button-up shirt and fairly professional black dress pants, he wanted to make a good first impression on the Akeldamans. Even if they didn't respect him for dressing sharply, he wanted to look professional. The comfortable clothes could come later. He was otherwise unadorned, apart from the ring on his left ring finger, the same as the one on Sun's. He even had a new house, having finally moved out of the university housing where they had kept him as he worked on education and research projects and moving in with her in the Three United Empires. Now, they were back with 'the team', and though that brought its upsides - seeing James and Steven again, working with professionals - it also had its downsides. Even without talking to him, he could tell Chris was hit hard. He gave the man a respectful, dignified nod which he wasn't even sure if he noticed or not. There were several newcomers, as well, others he hadn't seen before. A friend of Chris', someone he recognized from the back of countless books but couldn't remember the name of, never bothering to buy one, and what looked like an Imperial officer. Strange.

The one thing he would miss most of all about being back in their comfortable house was their kitchen. He was so used to eating well, with a full kitchen available to him, that he was fairly sure whatever food they were to be served on Akeldama wouldn't match up. It could have been arrogance, or bragging, but he tried to keep an open mind. He missed it already. On Vespia, they had cooked their own food and over time he had built up quite a stockpile of it from care packages from the university, but here they were guests in the house of the 'king', so to speak, and he doubted it would be polite to make and eat his own food. Still, if theirs did end up not being to his taste, well ... there were still care packages from the university, especially if he made a few well-placed calls.

Apart from that he traveled lightly. A small computer, some state-of-the-art observation equipment, some recording devices, some clothes. That was mostly it. He expected to have to use it all much less than on Vespia. They were here, after all, the way he had wanted to be on Vespia - actually observing the culture from up close and interacting with them. Like Margaret Mead, like all those that had spent time studying the Fore, like all those famous anthropologists through history. None of them had skulked around through caves. Then again, maybe he could spark a new revolution in action movies and airport novels; action anthropology. Then he would be one of them, and one day people would compare him to them and say "Yeah, Margaret Mead was good, but did she hang out in caves and get in fistfights? My favourite anthropologist ever is Simon Federov!"

Yeah, right.

As the others began to enter the dropship, Erik's eyes settled upon what looked to be a group of close friends, two seemingly to be married or engaged as they had two quite similar rings. He smiled at the two and nodded to them, along with the one who had come before them before noticing a movement in his perepheral vision.

"Imbeciles," came a growl nearby as the man shifted in his seat.

"Chris, what?"

"That idiot is the one who stole her from me," he continued as he continued shifting.

Just then, Erik's eyes widened and he held his arm over Chris. "You aren't touching them."

"I know! Get off me," he grumbled, pushing Erik off.

Erik sighed and settled down, relaxing that he knew Chris won't try to do what got him into his predicament in the first place. He was still surprised that his best friend from highschool was capable of doing that. He certainly looked that way, having a much heavier, muscular build than before and the scar along his cheek.

The rest of the trip remained rather uneventful. Chris remained silent and unmoving, whether he was asleep or not Erik couldn't tell, as long as he didn't get himself into trouble.

As they began walking out of the ship, Chris stirred without a sound, as if he was awake through the entire trip.

Suddenly, Chris got up from his cheer and out of the shadows, a sneer on his face.

"Hey Steven, I didn't know you brought a Zebra and an a** along," he said in a serious tone, his eyes glaring at Simon and Sun. He was most likely addressing Sun (her clothing, specifically) and Simon respectively, with little respect at all.

Erik's eyes shot open and he looked at Chris. "I thought you weren't going to-"

"Shut up," Chris growled as he glared up at the two. "I'm glad you've talked to me while we were seperated, Sun. How long has it been? Over a year?"

"Chris, stop now," Erik said, trying to calm down his friend. "We're all a team...think of other things!"

Chris didn't respond as he began to walk towards the couple, Erik following right behind, toting the things but keeping a watchful eye on his old friend. Luckily, the robot engineer stopped about ten feet away from the couple, but his eyes burned violently as he never took his glare off the two.

“This heat is unbearable,” Dr. Ernest Puzo complained as they all climbed out of the Akeldama vehicles which had stopped in front of the hotel they would be staying at. He had been complaining since they arrived.

Steven shot him an annoyed look. The Akeldama heat, while strong, and most certainly hot, was the least of his worries. The gravity had already made his body tired, as if he had been exercising for hours on end, and he swore that the sweat that was now on his back and his brow was due to the physical strain and not the heat.

Luckily, as his brother had questioned, the hotel itself was nicely cooled. It did not, however, have gravity adaptors. Steven groaned, lifting his things from the back of the Akeldama vehicle with as much force as possible, clumsily walking to the hotel doors. It was then, that out of the corner of his eye, he caught something in the mist.

It was nothing less than a blur, but Dr. Steven Bradford was a man of keen observation. He shook the sweat out of his eyes, blinking to clear his vision. It was gone. Perhaps the heat’s a little stronger than I thought. However, the blast of cold air that hit his face as the hotel doors swung open quickly made his mind forget trivialities such as optical illusions.

Steven was enamored to find that the hotel made use of electronic lifts, and put down his gear as soon as he could. The weight on his shoulders from the gravity was still heavy, yet not carrying around clothes and technology made it somewhat easier. The lift ride could not have been long enough though, and before Steven knew it, they had arrived on the top floor.

Thoughts of Simon, Sun, and Chris flashed through his mind, but more than anything Steven was annoyed by their love triangle which, over the past year, had obviously become less of a triangle. Simon and Sun seemed very much the couple, and Chris’s jealous glare easily revealed that he still loved that which he never was able to have. Steven knew the glare of jealousy well.

“Oh dear god…” Ernest muttered, looking at Steven, as the two of them were escorted to the same room. An Akeldama guard opened the door, revealing two beds, two dressers, and two desks. “You have to be kidding me…” But the face of the guard before he left showed that obviously he wasn’t.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Steven said. “You weren’t my ideal choice of a roommate either.” He walked back to the door, looking out to see that all the other scientists were being matched up. None had single rooms it seems.

“So what do we do now?” Ernest asked his new roommate. Steven shrugged.

“We scope out the populace,” Steven replied, wondering what his brother was doing. Most likely something more important… “Go out to eat. Go to a library. Go watch a film. Anything really…”

“I hardly want to become a tourist,” Ernest grumbled, slowly unpacking his things. Steven silently agreed. They would have to be discrete.

Sun walked forward towards him. She might have been glad to see him, if he had opened up with something else. Now, she was just angry. He was bigger than her; much bigger. Even with two inch heels, she only was 5’6”. Still, she matched his jealousy with her fiery rage. She met him. She met him halfway, and could hear Simon saying something under his breath. The cross around her neck flashed as the light reflected off of it. You could feel the heat coming off of her, prickling across the skin. Her blue eyes even seemed heated. Men who date Russian women really never have to fear the streets at night. If they get jumped, all they have to do is say, “Hey, here is my girlfriend…” and by all means that woman will beat the shit out of the attacker. It’s been proven time and time again. Although, Simon was not in need of protection, and neither was Sun. Didn’t know they would invite a hedgehog, thought to herself returning the compliment to his ridiculously spiked hair. He looked like a punk. She carried her bag over one shoulder, and was very much tempted to grab the blade she carried with her now anywhere. Never know when you’re going to get abducted by Vespians and tied up. “Go back to playing Tetris. I’m not here to play your games with you and round off petty insults. Grow up,” she said, and turned from him. It was rather diplomatic. Before, she would have punched him in the face. Now, she didn’t even flinch.

“Let’s find our room,” she said to Simon, and left with him.

When the Imperial captain had made his way back to his ship, Viceroy Vinosec Gantatilion burst into the office of the Praetor, obviously distraught.

“With all due respect…” the Viceroy began, but Praetor Fithos de Luroth cut him off.

“Isn’t it amazing,” Fithos said, staring off at nothing in particular yet marveling none the less.

“What’s amazing is your blatant disregard for…” Vinosec rebutted, but once again the Praetor was not listening.

“I impressed him, Viceroy,” Fithos said, quite content with himself. “He came in here, a strong captain of a marvelous starship…and I impressed him.”

“That’s exactly what I needed to talk to you about,” the Viceroy said. “We haven’t even had the chance to make so much as a replica…to test it out…to equip our ships with it.”

“We’re not going to need to,” Fithos replied, shaking his head. Now was not the time for this discussion.

“Their suspicion of us grows as each day passes,” Vinosec continued.

“Good,” the young Praetor said. “We are now, even more so, very much on their radar. Suspicion carries an undertone of respect. We matter to them now.”

“Over the past two years the Orion Empire has conquered more planets than the other two millennia it existed combined,” Vinosec said, his eyes wide in concern.

“And yet we still stand,” Fithos replied, his smile fading. “Do not forget, Viceroy, how close to the Orion Sector Akeldama lies. We are within an arm’s reach of their grasp, and yet we still remain untouched.”

“All these displays of power will do nothing but make them nervous,” Vinosec pleaded. “That man has undoubtedly already reported what you showed him. Putting our advancements on display now is nothing short of arrogance.”

“It is arrogance the Empire respects,” Fithos snapped.

“It is arrogance the Empire tramples,” Vinosec spat in reply. “They will come here with the force of gods and swallow us whole, cutting us off at the roots before we have a chance to blossom. You’re inviting the shears, Praetor. You’re daring them to strike.”

“And I already brought a ship out here did I not?” Fithos asked. Vinosec didn’t understand. There was no way he could at this point. Fithos pointed to the sky. “It’s out there…Imperial technology…waiting for us to make a move!” Fithos rubbed his hands together. “They fear us, Viceroy.”

“Praetor, my love for our country is unmatched,” Vinosec begged. “But even I don’t believe that we stand a chance…”

“They fear what they don’t know,” Fithos snarled, his eyes ablaze. “They think we possess some superweapon. They think we are planning a strike.” He paused, smiling to himself. “I leaked the story myself.” Viceroy Gantatilion stared at his leader in horror.

“You’ve damned us all...” Vinosec replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

“And so the trap is set,” Fithos muttered to himself. He waved at the Viceroy dismissively, beckoning the man out of his office. “We must now wait for our cue.”

Viceroy Gantatilion knew not what the Praetor had planned. At this point, he didn’t care. The young leader of the Akeldama had finally gone too far. Praetor de Luroth would drive them all to ruin. Instantly Vinosec altered his course for the second oasis, a journey which would take him through the horrid wastes of the Laeroxian sands. It mattered little, however, in the grand scheme of things. The governors had to be informed.

“Go back to playing Tetris. I’m not here to play your games with you and round off petty insults. Grow up,” she said, and turned from him. It was rather diplomatic. Before, she would have punched him in the face. Now, she didn’t even flinch.


"Oh Sun, have you not learned? That's what you said last time we spoke...what? A year ago? Again, I wonder why you never gave your best friend a call," Chris called out to them, a cocky grin on his face.

"And for the record, I did grow up. Don't you see? I've listened to you and this is what you get. I've grown up all because you told me so. It's too late for me to go back," Chris growled, his eyes narrowing. But it wasn't...he still loved her. Deep down, over the concrete walls he placed around his heart, he still clinged to the hope that perhaps one day...she would acknowledge him differently. "You made me who I am today. You should be proud."

"Let's go Chris," Erik said as he pulled of his sleeves. As the heat was simmering down, he began to realize it wasn't that he hadn't worked out in a while...the gravity must have been greater as everything seemed slower and heavier. I hope I don't need to go up any stairs...

If it affected Chris, he didn't show it yet. Perhaps it was the adrenaline running through his hot headed friend. Erik sighed, somewhat glad that the woman and her boyfriend were leaving...it should make Chris more...friendly and controllable. "Chris you should really learn to-" His peripheral vision caught a rapid movement and his hand immediately held tightly onto Chris' right arm. In his hand was a long, menacing knife.

"Confound it, how were you ever able to bring it with you?" Erik groaned, trying not to show any strain against his much stronger friend. "What's gotten into you?"

Chris growled his eyes not resting on Sun, but only Simon. Finally, he gave up and spat, putting his knife back in his pocket and shouldering his large backpack. "Let's go," he growled, shrugging off his friend's hand.

Erik mentally sighed again and picked up his own bag, heaving it with him and glancing back at Sun and Simon. What's happened between them? A love triangle? He shrugged it off deciding that perhaps he'll ask a much calmer Chris...perhaps a bit drugged up. Perhaps he should make time to apologize for Chris' actions since he doubted Chris would do that...

Simon's reaction to Sun's confrontation with Chris was one of tension, and of near-violence. Honestly, if it had been up to him and Chris, there probably would have been a fight then and there, and Simon just hoped he would have won. As it was, Sun seemed to deal with it, and it seemed to be settled, for now. Simon had been prepared to accept Chris as a friend, he didn't want this. Now ... now it seemed that was never going to happen.

If he caught a glimpse of the knife in Chris' hand it did not show, though he remained tense as the two couples - Sun and Simon, Eric and Chris - parted and only relaxed once he and Sun were alone in their room, behind a closed door. Sighing and trying to relax, he found it hard, and resigned himself to unpacking his bag, setting up his various pieces of equipment on one of the desks, relieved to get the extremely heavy bag off his shoulder.

With that menial task finished, he sighed and sat down on the bed, enjoying taking the extra weight off his feet, and he fell backwards onto it, staring up at the ceiling. Already he was regretting deciding to rejoin the team. If he had known Chris was here, and known Chris would be like this ... he didn't know what he would have done. Would he have stayed behind, or tried to convince Sun for them both to stay behind? It was unlikely. In all probability, they both would have been there anyway, but he would have had hopes for a reconciliation dashed.


*


James liked the room. It was a nice reprieve from the heat outside. As whoever his roommate was had not yet arrived, and it was a double room, he immediately claimed the bed beside the window and the desk near it, setting his bag down, unpacking some clothes into the dresser, and setting his ever-present computer on the desk, he took a look at the files he had been provided on the Akeldamans. Slavers, imperialists, warriors. He grimaced. These were the people he was analyzing? It was like Vespia all over again, only hopefully without the betrayals, the double-crossing, and the eventual fight.

With that task done for now, he slowly, unaccustomed to the heavy gravity, crossed to the bedside table and set up a photograph of him and his family, taken by his mother a month earlier when they had been there on a holiday. She had, in private, nudged him and subtly encouraged marriage, but he had told her, without her subtlety, that he had no intention of getting married anytime soon, and that he could love her without being married. Times have changed, Mom. She had been slightly unhappy and deflated, but quickly got over it as she doted on her youngest grandchild.

Then he rolled off the bed, put his feet on the floor, and crossed to the window, where he watched out it at the constant traffic on the dusty yellow streets below. It was very different, that was for sure. Very different.

Sun began unpacking as well, putting everything in its place before lying down. She was tired, and managed to take off her heels before curling up amidst the blankets. She didn’t know if she was sick or if it was a side effect of the Vespian blood. It could have been a number of things. She had told Simon of the possibilities. None were really life threatening. Later her suspicions were confirmed, yet still she didn’t feel like she was in reality. That was certainly not normal. She sighed softly, letting the breath exit her and rolled over on to her side and watched Simon as he unpacked. She left the blade in her bag purposefully. For one, Simon didn’t know she carried it with her. It was finally crafted from Spain with an ornate hilt of a phoenix. The weapon smith said it was appropriate because of her name, and her spirit. Ever since she realized, she had carried it around with her.

“Do you think that the Vespian blood will have any effect?” she questioned. “I mean, is it what is making me so tired…”

Simon stood up and walked over to Sun's bed, taking one of her hands between both of his and gently kissing it before lowering it down again and simply sitting there beside her, providing a comforting presence. "No, I don't think so," he said, hopeful. He wanted to believe what he was saying. "I think it ... could be a consequence of the increased gravity? I know I'm a lot more tired since we got here, carrying all this around," he said, gesturing with his head towards the luggage strewn across his desk and bed.

The real problem is if you were tired before we got here, he thought, but kept to himself. "Besides," he said, taking one of his hands away to stroke her hair as he turned his head to look down at her beautiful eyes and gave her a warm smile. "I think it's normal." I'm no expert. I'm terrible at this, aren't I?

“I haven’t even unpacked…” Steven mumbled. He felt bad, locking Ernest out, but it had to be done. Besides, Ernest was out to dinner. Surely he wouldn’t be back soon.

“The Emperor’s suspicion only grows,” Gabranth replied over the visual comm from his office on the Sentinel. “They have the technology at least for energy weapons. I fired a pistol of theirs’ myself.”

Steven frowned, his eyebrows creasing in the center. They had arrived no more than an hour ago and already his brother was asking for status reports. Well, he was unpacking, damnit. That was hardly enough to report on.

“So your spies were wrong?” Steven asked. Gabranth sighed. His brother was such a civilian.

“It’s a bit more complex than that, Steve,” Gabranth replied, shaking his head in annoyance. “Besides, they’re hardy my spies.”

“Your spies, the Emperor’s spies…same thing,” Steven muttered, refolding a shirt that had come undone on the journey. Folding clothes that stayed folded was a skill he still hadn’t mastered.

“Hardly,” Gabranth replied, giving his young brother an odd look over the comm. Steven also thought his response had been rather odd. It reminded him of Marissa and her ever-present lack of love for the government. “We couldn’t very well have put operatives in the Praetor’s office, now could we?” Gabranth asked. The answer, of course, was “no.”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Steven replied honestly. He wasn’t in the mood for another pointless argument, and he doubted Gabranth was either. They just always seemed to pop up.

“However,” Gabranth continued, a smile crossing his face. “We can put a scientist there. After all, a meeting with the Praetor would be highly…beneficial to your work.”

“I’m a biologist,” Steven deadpanned, closing his drawer.

“I wouldn’t give a shit if you were a brain surgeon or a janitor,” Gabranth snapped. “You’re not going to be running blood samples on them anyhow. Your job is to find out as much information as you can and report it back…with minimal attitude.”

“Does it say that in the job description?” Steven muttered. “Because I’m pretty sure when I interviewed...”

“You’re not a child,” Gabranth shot back, now fully annoyed. “So stop acting like one. Now do your job, or I’ll find someone else to, and you can sit at home and wallow in your momentary fame.” He paused, trying to relax. “I’ve already set up a meeting. You are to leave at once.”

Steven grumbled to himself before terminating the visual link without saying goodbye. It was so like his brother to set something up without him knowing, without taking into account what he wanted to do. After all, he had yet to eat since they left, and the gravity difference made him hesitant to travel anywhere. The door handle shook from the outside.

“Steven?” Ernest’s voice asked through the door. It was not all that insulated, most likely a shortcut the Akeldama made when refurbishing the hotel for their arrival. “Steven, is this locked?”

Steven walked to the door and searched for a control panel. Upon realizing his error, and that there was no electronic lock to this primitive door, he reached down and opened it with the handle. Ernest seemed impatient.

“Sorry,” Steven murmured. “I didn’t want any interruptions.” Ernest rolled his eyes, before heading straight to the bathroom they shared. He quickly shut the door, but did not stop the conversation.

“Whatever spices they put on the food does not bode well with more cultured stomachs,” Ernest said between grunts and short pauses. Steven shook his head in amazement. “I think even you wouldn’t take it well. I’d stick to something bland if I was you…” Ernest tended to use the word “I” a lot.

“I’m…uh…” Steven said, feeling odd about talking to a man he barely knew while that man was on the toilet, with intestinal problems no less. “I’m going to go meet with the Praetor.”

“Oh!” Ernest said, his voice instantly sounding excited. Another loud splash echoed from the bathroom, and Steven felt a tad sick in the stomach himself. “May I accompany you?”

But by then Steven had already left, more than disgusted by the sound and the smell, and was begrudgingly making his way towards the exit of the hotel. Luckily for the scientists, public transport was free for them, and the thought of walking to the capital building in this gravity had never even crossed Steven’s mind. There was simply no way he would do that, even if it meant spending more time in his room with Ernest. Steven shuddered at the thought of doing either.

“Well?” Murmured Elijah as he leant on the body of the Skimmer as Carl moved to the side and opened a door.

“Its them all right, seems my Thermoptic is messing up a bit, damn heat.”

“Mine’s fine.” Shrugged Elijah as he simply jumped in and kicked a pedal which started the engine. Rising with a throaty growl the skimmer threw itself out of hiding under a tarpaulin at the edge of the city and thundered into the sandy wasteland.

----------

The door’s handle clanked and wheeled as it span. With a slightly click and hiss the door swung open inwards to the coolly lit sitting room, inside was a girl in her twenties with brown shoulder-length hair.

“Hi Alice, still no word?” grumbled Elijah as he passed the girl.
“Nothing yet Mr Christchurch.” she replied with a sigh and shook her head.
“I see, keep up the work anyway Alice.”
“Yes Mr Christchurch” She replied before apparently sagging ever so slightly in her chair.

“Fran! Fran!” Elijah bellowed as he hit a pad on the wall and a door hissed open.
“For God’s sake no need to bloody shout! I’m not deaf.” she yelled back as she slammed her screwdriver back down on the metal desk with a clang, tapping the top of Risk’s head again the Drone flickered back into life and yawned, tipping itself back a little as it made the sound.

“I feel so refreshed!” he squeaked as he floated upwards.
“Go to your room please Risk.”
“Okay!” it squeaked and floated through a small hatch to a load of chattering which dulled when it hissed shut again.

“I’m coming with you for tomorrow’s shift, in fact we’re going tonight and taking two drones with us, I want to keep an eye on those pretty-boys personally.”

Fran shook her head with a sigh and rolled up a small tool-belt, checking her Watch-pass, the symbol of the Machi-Pagans, a small religiously minded cult in Midlonia, the Watch-Pass was a combination of a time-piece and a compass. They were difficult to make and usually only denoted a full adept of the Machi-Pagan church, such as it was.

“I’ll hit a couple of bars and such, see what’s the word about the pretty-boys being here. We’ll use the drones to keep an eye on them from their hotel, they should be fairly inconspicuous.”

“Yeah… you do realise the whole stupid curiosity thing they have going now, right?” Fran raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Yes. So we’ll use the two most mature.” Elijah replied with a shrug.

“Risk and Dice are still suffering problems, Pencil is, well, too busy trying to draw without a proper grappling arm and is bugging me to make him on, only ones left are Cup and Saucer, and you know how they are.”

Elijah grunted and shrugged, turned to the door then looked over his shoulder. “So we use them then.”

Fran let her head sink and hang dejected.

---------------

Another two hours later and Fran was still looking around the market-place, Elijah had vanished into some bar somewhere near to the hotel and the bazaars were beginning to pack up their stalls. She sighed as she turned a bizarre piece of metal bent into a shape over in her hands a few times before setting it down.
This stuff was nothing that the Laxoerians had been able to smuggle out when they bribed the police.

--------------

Elijah gulped down another small glass of the acidic liquor, he gave a grim smile and then smacked his lips.
“Another please.” ’Justch pripatah.’ his words came out as and he toted his glass to the barman as he shoved another small gold piece across the bar to him.

The barman gave an impassive grunt and a shrug as he poured another glass for the big-guy with the metal face. He had been coming here every couple of nights for nearly a year now and the barman simply referred to him as Metal-Head. Elijah merely knocked the drink back again and twirled the glass over in his left hand several times before clacking it back down onto the bar.

------------

The drone floated steadily upwards with a silent hum, and peered through the windows, checking each in turn before settling on one room in which there was a strange black object moving around.
“Huh?” it blinked and stopped, for the moment its Thermoptics allowed it to watch discreetly while his sister moved around the other rooms peering, recording and monitoring. He moved gently towards the window and accidentally bumped into it making his Thermoptics distort and shimmer, showing his outline very faintly against the glass as it watched the scene inside.
[Blastit, cue call! :P]

Michael Stanley peered out the window of his hotel room. He and his friends Alfonso Anderson and Richard Robertson had only just recently arrived, and already the increased effect of acceleration due to gravity was taking its toll. But that was something they would grow accustomed to over time.

Had it really been a year since the “Vespia Incident” as it had been dubbed in the Steel Empire? The New Genoese members of the international team had escaped from the ordeal relatively unscathed in comparison to their compatriots, and their return home had by far been the most uneventful. Alfonso had went on to publish an essay on his recorded findings on Vespian culture and politics, which failed horrendously in the market. Rich had returned to his career as a system administrator of a local provincial business. Mike, on the other hand, only became sicker.

On Vespia, he had been suffering from an unknown illness. It didn't adversely affect him to the point where he was incapable of working, but nevertheless, he felt an emptiness inside that was compounded by a persistent feeling of nausea. Initially, he had attributed it to differences in atmospheric pressure, cuisine, different levels of gravity, and any other scientific explanation he could possibly conceive, but when he returned to New Genoa...the sickness was still there. There was apparently no pathological cause, nor did he have any history of genetic illnesses. The doctors had described it as purely psychological.

Alfonso looked at his friend as he stared hopelessly into the brilliant Akeldama skyline. The man was emotionally depressed, Al knew it, but Mike wouldn't acknowledge it. For a man committed to reason and science, he certainly was rejecting the overwhelming evidence. Then again, what could be expected from a man who purposely withdrew himself from the reaches of society? Al sighed. He had invited Mike to Akeldama as hope to reinvigorate the man, as a refuge from the ordinary life he lived on Earth in New Genoa.

“Finished unpacking?” Rich said. The man had already finished setting up his laptop and Internet connection.

“This was all I brought, really,” Mike said. “I was considering wearing local attire after I wear these out...you know...cultural integration, I guess.”

“Suit yourself,” Rich said, smiling at his corny pun.

Alfonso sat up. “Well, since we're all ready, perhaps we should take the time to meet up with everyone else. Barely said anything on the flight down, and it would probably be best to stay in touch with everyone this time.”

"Who invited them...Steven could have atleast let me know before hand. I would have packed a bigger weapon," Chris growled as he furiously searched through his bags, pulling out computer parts and setting them on the table. "I had the perfect opportunity last time...I could have squeezed his head within my hands."

Erik was frowning as he slowly unpacked his clothing, placing them in his drawar and watching his friend curiously. So it's the guy he wants to kill then. Not the woman. "And why do you want to kill them? How would that make you feel better?"

"I told you already, Erik. It should be me wearing that ring. Not him," Chris almost shouted, slamming his fist on the table. "She was in love with me...with me..." He sat down at his desk chair and let his head fall onto the desk, his hands covering it.

Erik continued his tidying, glancing at his clearly distressed friend every now and then. After a few minutes he had finally put away all of his undergarments and sat down on his bed. Not as soft as the one he had at home but it would do.

"Chris...what...I don't really understand...Why does she mean so much to you? I mean...she's taken," Erik said quietly, trying to understand his friend's pain.

"Take into consideration that I was her best friend in College. Years, Erik, years. I treated her with the utmost respect minus perhaps a few jokes. And that's what they were, jokes. She took them well and we went on our merry lives. Not to mention she was always the one that seemed to shove me away...even though she told me I was her best friend. So we go to Vespia."

"Remember, Sun and I have known each other for years. For two months, we are with each other, barely communicating with the others. Then a peculiar four days go by, four days," as if to emphasize, he held up four fingers and narrowed his eyes. "Next thing I know...she's canoodling with that imbecilic Simon. How did I know she would be such a prostitute..."

Erik frowned and shook his head. He understood some of the anger but...it seemed like he didn't want to be angry at this "Sun" person. He had known her for years...what could have went wrong then? Perhaps one day I'll find out for myself.

Suddenly, Chris got up, flipping his knife in the air and sneering at Erik. "I've got to go take care of something."

Erik's eyes widened as he got up. "You aren't taking care of anything. You should get some rest. All this stress is not doing you any good."

"Oh shut up, mother. I am not going to kill anyone...yet," With that, Chris let out another chortle and threw his knife as hard as he could at the wall, eventually resulting in a blade sinking hard into the surface. "I'll be back," he snarled.

Chris looked this way and that, trying to figure out where Steven was roomed...and Simon as well. Not knowing the layout of the hotel so well, Chris mentally noted to figure it out relatively soon. But first, he needed to speak with a maid to show him whose room was whose.

And he wasn't surprised to find a relatively young girl walking by with a large bundle of towels in her hands. He placed his hand on her shoulder, startling her and gave her a warm smile. "Hello, ma'am. I am curious to know where exactly my comrades are in this hotel for...scientific purposes and the such," Chris said sweetly, giving off a broad smile that was only a shadow of what it used to be.

The darling woman smiled back and nodded looking around to the doors nearby his own. "I believe that one belongs to Misses Sun and her friend," she said with a hint of an accent, indicating one of the farther rooms. "This one belongs to a Mister...James..."

Chris' eyes narrowed and he gently squeezed the woman's shoulders as she spoke of Simon as Sun's friend. "Alright, what about Steven?"

"He is right over there with a Mr. Puzo, sir," the maid replied wincing slightly as she felt rising pressure in her arm.

"Thank you very much, kind ma'am," Chris replied with a smile as he let go and walked over to Steven's room. "Steven I must speak with you," he growled before he gave a loud bang on his door. "Urgent."

********************

XR had been roving about the room, checking every small nook and cranny and nearly tripping Erik as he set up his own computer on his own desk.

"Infernal robot! Go...Go somewhere else!" Erik scolded as if the robot could hear him. But maybe it did. Where he came from, AI wasn't so rare, however it was thoroughly checked for "flaws".

XR, however seemed to listen and drove off towards the window, thinking to have noticed something glint off the window. It's camera focused and adjusted as it searched the area, quiet humming coinciding with the automaton's seemingly curious nature.

Then suddenly, something bumped against the glass, a slight shimmer...and it was gone. XR's camera adjusted it's focus on the same spot and remained doing so for about ten minutes.

Erik had heard it as well and looked towards XR, believing it had bumped something into the window, or bumped into the glass itself. "Stupid robot..." he grumbled as he lay himself in bed, glancing at something that looked out of place in Chris' bags...Perhaps I should....No...that is mean.... But that didn't get rid of the tug that he felt in checking out what looked to be a few large photo albums...

Dr. Ernest Puzo found himself overly annoyed at the knock upon his door. From the voice, he knew it was not Steven, and the level of uncertainty this visitor carried with him only raised his irritation. Ernest rose from the corner of his bed, where he had been sitting, and begrudgingly made his way to the door.

The added gravity made the air feel thicker. Ernest imagined himself having to push through it, as if walking through water or snow. Naturally both were an exaggeration, but after all, he was a writer. Ernest made a mental note to use that metaphor in his rough draft, whenever he got around to starting it, that is.

On his way past the bathroom, the door to which was right next to the door to the hallway, Ernest cautiously shut the door. He had little clue who had come seeking Steven, and figured that he would have to talk to the man for a bit. Now was no time to be taking chances.

“I’m afraid,” Ernest said, carefully opening the door to the hall. The man Steven had previously identified as Chris was standing before him and looking impatient. “Steven isn’t here. He just left ten minutes ago, and I haven’t the slightest idea when he’ll return.”

Chris' eyes immediately darted to the one he had recognized on the back of long, boring-looking novels he scanned through before his long trek to the Empire and was about to say his greeting when another sense took over. Something smelled rotten. Chris' nose scrunched up and he looked towards the bathroom and frowned.

What in blazes did he eat? He thought before returning his attention to the man who answered the door.

"That's a shame...I would like to speak with him immediately," Chris said with a hint of annoyance. Might as well get to know this man then... "So I am guessing you are Mr. Puzo? You're the best selling author, aren't you?"

He began to wonder why the author even chose to come. Rewrite warstories? Make poems? Chris didn't know and as he thought about it, he didn't really care either. But he cared for little these days...

Ernest’s mood of annoyance instantly dissipated. Across his face spread a smile, and unconsciously Ernest pushed out his chest in pride. “Best-selling” was a title which suited him well, and after the friendly ridicule from Steven, Ernest needed a bit of an ego boost.

“Aye,” Dr. Puzo replied, extending his hand for Chris to shake it and stepping out into the hallway where Chris was, closing the door to the room behind him. “And you might be?”

The hallway smelled fresh, of foreign flowers, and Ernest seriously hoped that the pink pills he took worked fast. He groaned, hungry again, but far from daring enough to consume anymore.

Chris looked down at Puzo's hand and slowly took it. No need for hostilities...especially with my pool of friends running low. A brief smile formed on Chris' face, somewhat from the relief of Puzo closing his door and efficiently cutting off the source of that wretched smell.

"I am Chris Avestar. I was an... acqaintance, if you will, of Steven. He was kind enough to help me out of a pickle I was in," the robotechnician replied. "I was with him on Vespia..."

Chris' eyes seemed to lose their focus as it seemed he stared at something beyond Ernest. But his eyes flicked back at Puzo and he gave a small grin again. "I hear Steven has written a book about our little journey...have you read it?"

“Yes,” Ernest grumbled in reply. This person wasn’t even of Orion and was still a fan of Steven’s book. Then again, Ernest specifically remembered reading about Chris, so it was not unexpected that Chris would like a book about himself.

It was odd to be sure, Ernest thought. Here he was, an outsider among these people who had experienced so much together. If Steven’s book was not an embellishment, these people had one hell of a ride on Vespia. Ernest didn’t give him the creative credit to be able to embellish, and so to the author, Steven’s story was valid.

“What is it, if I may ask,” Dr. Puzo asked regardless. “That you want with Steven?”

"Not so much what I want from Steven. What I want to give Steven. I merely want to ask why he chose to torture me further with such abomidable curs as my old...colleages, Sun and Simon," Chris replied his expression getting darker instantly as he hissed out Simon's name.

"I am curious- I had not read Steven's book- does it say anything about me? Me and Sun in particular?"

“No,” Ernest lied. He found it odd that Chris had not read the book, but nonetheless understood somewhat the relationship between Chris, Simon, and Sun. There had been a love triangle, and it appears Chris had lost.

Ernest was never much one for love himself. Self-love took the place of loving another, and his sexual encounters were often much of the same. His life was a fantasy, living vicariously through the characters in his books. They were his escape from the doldrums of life. He found comfort in the problems of those he created, helping them solve their issues or crumble under the weight of them. Much like a god, Dr. Ernest Puzo was aloof, and oftentimes for him, fiction blended with reality.

“I tell you what,” Ernest suggested, pulling his sunglasses from his button down shirt and placing them over his eyes. It was night, but Ernest cared little. His style was not to be determined by the rise and fall of a star. “I’m thinking of heading to a local bar I heard the soldiers talking about. Would you care to join me?” After all, if he was going to get mugged, he at least needed someone to tell the others the story of his gallant battle with the locals.

Chris frowned, staring darkly at Puzo for a few minutes. "I guess I have another bone to pick with him."

No? How could there not be? How could readers be decieved to realize that I did not live happily ever after. My best friend was taken from me! My entire life! How could Steven leave out such a- His ever darkening thoughts were interrupted by Ernest's invitation to join him at the local bar.

"Why not. Might as well enjoy what I can here, huh?" Chris replied. Perhaps it will help calm my nerves and take my mind off terrible things... When Puzo put on his sunglasses, Chris's frown barely changed into a smile. Puzo reminded him perhaps a small bit of his former self...

"I am ready when you are," he said quietly. He really didn't want to go back to his room. Erik would probably just try to test him or drug him up or the sort.

As he walked out the main doors of the hotel, Ernest found that wearing sunglasses was not unwarranted at all. In fact, the glare of light which now shot from out behind the horizon was nearly blinding, and unfortunately right on eye level. There as rarely a person they passed on the street that did not have some sort of eyewear.

The two of them sauntered into the Akeldama bar. No one gave them much attention, as much as they stood out as the only foreigners, so they walked to the bar itself, sitting down on stools. Ernest raised his sunglasses to his forehead.

“You’re eh brave one for tra-vel-in’ out in ‘e twilight, vis-i-tor,” the gruff bartender said to Ernest, his voice even more gruff than his appearance. The bartender gave a harsh belly laugh. Ernest gave him an odd look. After all, none of the others talked that way.

“And how do you know I’m a visitor?” Ernest asked, oblivious to the fact that he and Chris were dressed nothing like any of the other customers.

“Oh, Iam much eh vis-i-tor mehself,” the bartender replied. “Eh know who ain’t ‘ese Akeldama warrior-scum. ‘Tis easy for meh ta pick out. Eh came to ‘is place in escape. Now, eh serve up escapes to ‘ese men e’ry night.” He smiled. “So vis-i-tor, what’ll be your escape of choice?”

“Something hard,” Ernest replied. He found himself growing fond for this bartender, a “vis-i-tor” like himself. The bartender laughed again, presenting a dark glass to Dr. Puzo. Ernest took a strong drink, and nearly vomited shortly after. “Holy shit…” he whispered, his eyes watering from the burn. Ernest shook his head; he was possibly already quite buzzed.

“‘Ard enough for ya?” the bartender asked. He didn’t laugh. In his voice rang a tone of admiration. A few others gathered around Ernest, looking at him in a mix of mystification and awe.

“Do that again,” a man said, pronouncing “again” as if it rhymed with “train.”

“What?” Ernest asked, beginning to feel embarrassed.

“You drank that zuri and are still standing,” the man said in amazement. Ernest realized that he was, in fact, now standing. He looked at Chris, confused. Another two men approached Dr. Puzo, who was still holding the dark beverage. “I’ll bet you seventy rickets you can’t do that again,” the man said, slapping what appeared to be money down on the bar counter. His “can’t” rhymed with “ain’t,” and he pronounced “again” as he did before.

Ernest shrugged, lifting the burning liquor to his lips and taking another gulp. It burned yet again, and his eyes teared up once more, but Ernest took it in none the less. The bar erupted with cheer, and the Akeldama soldiers and civilians alike each bought Chris and Ernest drinks, which were considerably better tasting than his original one was. Ernest smiled, taking in the atmosphere. He somehow felt lighter, as if the double gravity no longer mattered.

As soon as Chris and Ernest left the hotel, the engineer immediately wished he had taken Puzo's idea himself. The sun seemed to follow his every eyemovement and he could barely see with his hands in front of his eyes in attempt to block it out.

"If I get blind because of this, mark my words, I'll kill someone with whatever senses I have left," he growled.

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful, minding the fact that Chris couldn't see much more than where Puzo's feet were. And when they reached the bar, Chris sighed in relief and blinked his eyes many times as he tried to adjust the the darker atmosphere.

Chris accompanied Puzo to the barkeeper but remained relatively quiet as to let the author deal with it. And deal with it he did.

After a scene which got a chuckle out of Chris, he got a drink that tasted somewhat bitter...nothing special but nothing that put tears in his eyes....even if perhaps that's what he needed. He raised his mug to Puzo and smiled mischieviously. "To Friends. May they always cherish the memories and love." May their false fiances be stricken by an unholy plague...

Meanwhile, Dr. Steven Bradford had just passed the half-hour long security check in order to see the Praetor. He grumbled as he gathered his things, which had been taken from him, and returned each to where they were mean to be. Now late for his appointment, Steven hastily paced down the hallway towards the Praetor’s office, only to run straight into a woman who had just come out of it. The two of them fell, Steven’s papers flying across the floor, and landed in a tangled mess with each other.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Steven said, scrambling to his feet and lifting her to hers. To his surprise, she was laughing. He looked at her for a moment, before a smile crossed his face as well.

She was beautiful, far beyond what he had expected. Her light brown hair had streaks of blond, which cascaded down over her slim shoulders, forming a pathway for the eyes to her elegant figure. As she smiled, her nose wrinkled, and her eyes laughed right along with her mouth.

“Hi,” she said, waving, her hand and arm close to her body. “I’m really sorry,” she apologized, looking at the mess around her. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Nonsense,” Steven said, dropping to his knees in order to pick up the papers off the floor. The woman quickly joined him. “I’m just clumsy…”

“You don’t seem the type,” the woman said, smiling. She pulled her hair back behind her ear. “My name’s Xu,” she said, pronouncing it as “Zoo.”

“Steven,” Steven replied, extending his hand for a handshake. She hesitated at first, but eventually shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh you’re Dr. Bradford!” Xu exclaimed, blushing. “You’re here for my boyfriend…Praetor de Luroth.”

“Yes,” Steven replied, unable to help thinking how lucky a man the Praetor was. Xu handed him the last of his papers.

“I apologize again,” she said, smiling to him before walking past him down the hallway. Steven’s eyes followed her out.

“I see you’ve met Xu,” a voice called from behind. Steven whipped around to see the Praetor standing in the doorway, a smile on his face.

“We ran into each other,” Steven replied, unsure if the Praetor would take it literally or not.

“She’s a handful if nothing else,” Fithos said, shaking his head. “But we have more important things to talk about. Please, come in.”

Steven walked into the office of the Praetor, his jaw instantly dropping. He had never seen a room shine so. Diamonds encrusted all aspects of the interior. Praetor de Luroth smiled, far happier with Steven’s reaction than that of the Captain.

“I on the other hand,” Fithos said, showing Steven to a seat. “Had the honor of meeting Captain Gabranth. He seems to be a great man.”

“You could say that,” Steven grumbled in reply. Another important person had become a fan of his older brother. What a surprise…

“He invited me to tour his ship,” Fithos said, an excited smile across his face. Gabranth had done so in order to talk to Fithos, and get a better understanding of the Praetor’s mindset. “To take a look at the technology and the like.”

“The Sentinel is newly built,” Steven replied. Praetor de Luroth beamed.

“So, Dr. Bradford,” Fithos said, picking up a glass from his desk and swirling it in his hand before taking a drink. “What have you learned so far?”

“Sir?” Steven asked, unsure as to what the Praetor was asking.

“Of Akeldama,” Fithos continued. “Be honest we me now. What have you learned of us?”

“Your gravity level is ridiculous,” Steven muttered, saying the first thing that came to mind. Fithos took it in stride.

“I’m sure I’d feel the same about yours,” the young Praetor laughed. “The body adjusts. I’m sure you’re find our joints stronger and our muscles thicker.” They were also, as Steven noted, all around five feet in height, a full foot shorter than the Imperial average.

“You’ll probably feel like you’re floating,” Steven said, thinking of the Praetor’s impending trip to the Sentinel.

“I look forward to it to say the last,” Fithos said, grinning to himself. Seeing the Imperial weaponry and armament was far more interesting to him, however.

The rest of the meeting went well, with the chatter typically pointless and the discussion idle. Still, as far as Steven was concerned, for conversations with foreign dictators, idle chat was optimum. Getting too deep could be dangerous.

Aboard the ISS Sentinel
Above the planet Akeldama

“Then our efforts must be doubled,” General Jack Valkare replied from the Tyrant, shaking his head. The Akeldama were not supposed to have technology on this level.

“I’ve informed Dr. Bradford of the…importance of his responsibility,” Captain Ramza Gabranth said over the video comm. “And I’ve invited the Praetor to tour the Sentinel. I think in conversation I can better grasp his mindset, and perhaps his intentions.”

“Well done, Captain,” Valkare responded. This man has good instincts…

“Any other suggestions, sir?” Gabranth asked.

“Only to continue,” Valkare said. “You are quickly becoming one of the faces of the Empire. At your rank, that’s something to be proud of.” Gabranth proudly smiled.

“As you wish,” the young Captain replied.

“Actually, Captain, I did manage forget something that I want you to do,” Valkare added. “Feel out this ‘slave’ situation for me, will you?”

“Sir?” Gabranth replied. “Slaves?”

“The Akeldama keep a large population of forced laborers out in the desert,” Valkare replied. “They consider these people, the Laeroxians, to be prisoners of war.”

“What do you want me to do with them?” Gabranth asked.

“Captain, the Empire has no problem with putting war prisoners to work,” Valkare responded. Gabranth nodded in agreement. “Slaves, however, are a whole other matter. There are inconsistencies in Akeldama history that may suggest the wars between these two peoples only erupted after the forced labor began. Our relations with the Akeldama may depend on your findings.”

“Understood,” Gabranth replied, terminating the comm.

Leaving the bar, Ernest managed to stumble home with Chris at his side. He had become a local hero, downing the zuri or whatever it was called, but had paid the price for it dearly. In short, he was absolutely wasted.

Steven was waiting in his room when Ernest arrived, his mind drifting back to earlier that night. He shook his head, shaking thoughts of Xu from his mind as Ernest tripped through the door.

“Steven!” Ernest shouted, crawling to his bed. “What’s going on bluddy?” Ernest then proceeded to laugh at his slur for the next few minutes. Steven rolled his eyes.

“Just go to bed,” he muttered, pointing Ernest to his bed. Ernest happily obliged, quickly taking off his pants but not his shirt and climbing in.

“Steven?” Ernest asked.

“What?” Steven asked in response, annoyed.

“Chris wants to know why you brought everyone from Vespia along,” Ernest said.

“I really don’t know,” Steven replied, but Ernest had already fallen fast asleep. Steven shook his head before repeating, “I really don’t know,” out loud, this time for his own benefit.

Why had he assembled generally the same team? Surely there were others more adept in their respective fields. Steven shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head and catching is reflection in the mirror. He was becoming more fit, although still nowhere near that of his older brother. Maybe I miss them, he thought.

He pulled the covers of his bed back and climbed underneath. The cool sheets felt good on his warm skin and he closed his eyes, content. Maybe I miss Marissa…

“I don’t know,” Sun said with a soft sigh. She really didn’t know, and she was too afraid of what she might find if she ran tests on her own blood. She used to want to do test on her self simply to learn more. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

She remembered that look in Chris’ eyes. He didn’t love her; he lusted. Loving someone is putting their needs and wishes before your own, even if it doesn’t work out the way you want it to. Chris lusted after her, never loved her. Perhaps in his mind the two were the same thing. He could be jealous, but he did not have the right to threaten. She rolled off the side of the bed and rummaged through her back, taking out the blade and putting it a slender sheath and set it upon the table. She glanced at Simon. This woman was never unprepared. If Chris wanted to fight she would give it to him; even kill him, because if he harmed Simon or herself, her child was either loosing a father or its life. She wasn’t showing yet. It would be a few more weeks before upon excessively close inspection you’d be able to notice any difference in her lean abdomen. She was glad Steven hadn’t called sixth months from now. In any matter, Simon could see the fire in her eyes.

“I’m going to take a walk around…”

"Do you want me to come with you?" Simon asked, looking up at her and raising his eyebrows slightly in question. It was a simply enough question, but the undertones it carried - questions about the planet, about Chris, about just how the Akeldama would react to solitary foreign women, and questions about his unborn child - were much more potent. He didn't have to say all that, it was carried in his original question. At the same time he knew that she may well want to be alone, and that it was possible if she ran into Chris his being there would only severely worsen the situation. Still, he couldn't bear the idea of her being alone on an unfamiliar world with a deranged ex-friend of theirs on the loose. Even though he knew she was formidable and now knew that she carried a knife - something that didn't surprise him in the least - it made him nervous. Very nervous.


*


By this point James had begun to wonder if he even had a roommate, or if he was to be rooming alone. No one had shown up, and he was starting to even get lonely. He wanted to go talk to Simon, but didn't really know what to say. He just found it strange and more than a little weird, spending his first time on this bizarre planet alone.

Putting the PDA down, he stood up and left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. Any potential roomies would have a key, and, not knowing local culture, he didn't want any of his prized possessions to be stolen. Walking down the hallway slowly, he found himself going towards Sun and Simon's room. He didn't know if they wanted privacy or anything, but he wanted to talk to Simon. They had been such a good team on Vespia, gathering data properly, and he wondered if Simon wanted to carry on the same here on Akeldama. Of course, here it was different, but still somewhat the same. They were still in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar things and people that needed to be analyzed, once again for the Empire.

Dr. Steven Bradford awoke gradually, the stale scent of the teeth he had forgot to brush rising to his nostrils. His mouth felt dry, but his body felt heavy, and he did not feel like getting up for a drink. Groaning, he pulled the covers back over his head, drifting off back to his dreams.

Hours later, when the sun had already risen, heating the sands of Akeldama, Steven begrudgingly rose from the sheets. He paced his way to the bathroom, brushed his teeth without looking in the mirror, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the shower.

The water hit hard, undoubtedly a result of the added gravity, put Steven didn’t mind. The pressure was relaxing, massaging his back with the constant stream, and Steven thought to himself that if only he was back in the Empire, he’d have been in heaven. Still, the heaviness of the air remained, and as Steven washed, each motion of his arm took strength out of his body.

By the time he walked out of the bathroom in a towel, Steven found Ernest still asleep and sprawled out on his bed. He rolled his eyes, remembering the shit show of the previous night. Still, Steven had better things to do that think of his soon to be hungover roommate, and so he got dressed in casual but attractive clothes and opened his door, walking out into the hall.

“Hey,” Steven said to a man who seemingly had just done the same thing. Dr. Erik Mussien was standing in his own respective doorway. “Good morning for you as well?” It was, unknown to Steven, well past noon.

What was that infernal noise last night? What kept XR-5U something or other concentrated on one spot? Erik thought ferociously as he showered, feeling all the more heavier with his hair wet. The shower was a bit relaxing, considering the sandy streets were horrible when the wind picked up, sending the particles in every little crevice possible.

After his long shower, he changed into a french blue shirt, adding a red tie and quickly put on black pants. He almost always wore formal wear, then again, he was almost always at work. It was mandatory at home and only became habit now. None the less, he enjoyed how he looked in it.

As he walked out, he frowned again. He would have expected Chris to show up atleast now. "Chris?" he asked quietly, looking around. Nothing. Now I have to look for him. I hope he didn't get in trouble...oh blast my laziness...I'm supposed to be watching over him.

With that, Erik walked out of his door and set about to locking it before he heard a voice from behind. "Good Morning? Oh dear, sir, It is already the afternoon!" laughed Erik. "But good afternoon none the less. Might you be Dr. Bradford?"

“I think I’ll be all right,” she said, giving him one of her perfect smiles before meaning to quickly kiss him, but she lingered there. She tore herself away despite her body’s protest. She opened the door and stepped outside, and began wandering down the halls. She was looking for something to do, someone to speak with; anyone but Chris. It was then that she saw James. She gave him an impish smile. “Hey!” she said in greeting, perhaps a little too enthusiastic. She was just relieved that the person walking around the corner wasn’t Chris. “How have you been? Simon’s in the room,” she said, pointing towards the door she had just left. “If you guys want to catch up.”

James seemed almost surprised to see Sun without Simon right beside her, and he gave her a smile back. "Hey," he responded, slightly less enthusiastically than her, but still evidently happy. "I've been doing pretty well, all in all. It's a bit taxing working while I know Sarah's at home with two kids, but we manage to make it work. More importantly, how are you and Simon? Have you two lovebirds set a date yet?" He grinned, making out his last comment to be a joke. He enjoyed teasing Simon goodnaturedly about getting married, while Simon enjoyed teasing him back about being scared of commitment, and that extended to Sun by association. They were all friends, after all, and ever since Vespia James had loosened up and joked a lot more. For some, it had been a negative experience. For him, it had been a very positive one.

“Well considering I’m a priestess,” she chuckled, and then got to his answer. “Probably in December. The weather is beautiful in December and it’s also the month of Gadulna de Navare; Seraphic’s song.” Truth of the matter was, she could conduct the ceremony herself at any point and time, but obviously, a bride would rather have someone else do it. “Life with Simon is good to say the least, except now nationwide shortages of whip cream,” she said, making the jest towards James again. IT was ironic how that worked out. One minute they had been joking, and a year goes by and they were sleeping together.

“What did you name your children?” she asked, her expression taking on a different appearance.

James laughed loudly at her joke. The first time it had been made, it had made him incredibly uncomfortable. Now he just appreciated it for what it had been. 'In hindsight, that was pretty funny', as he had once said. Then, at the mention of his children, his face brightened up immensely. "The older one's Alex, he's going to be three next month, and the younger one is Sam. It turns out Sarah was pregnant when I left for Vespia, but she didn't know it yet, so Sam's only about five months old." He chuckled and shook his head slightly. "She's got her hands full with them, she tells me. Every time I'm away, she says they go nuts. Alex is-" suddenly he stopped, seeing the expression on her face. Despite himself, he was still not good at reading people, and couldn't even tell if it was a good or bad expression. It just confused him. "Is something wrong?"

Chris had been stumbling about the hotel when he had gotten home with Ernest, however he refused to go to his room...he didn't want to. For the longest time he just sat down in a dark corner and cried softly to himself. He had gone to the bar hoping to drink himself to forgetting his troubles, but it had not worked at all. They just kept coming back and each time he tried to forget them, they came back twofold, haunting him, invading his dreams....what dreams? Who was he kidding...he had no more dreams, only nightmares.

He shifted slightly, perking up when he heard the familiar voice of Sun. Sun...old friend...I want to speak to you... his mind thought and he almost said it himself. Yes...yes I should tell her. I want to speak with you. He smiled over his tears and steadied himself against a wall as he made his way through the halls, pausing behind a corner as she could hear him talking to someone...someone familiar. Who was it? James...yes...who was he? What did he do? Chris could barely remember...he only remembered one instance when James had tried to speak with him and that was when Chris was asleep after crying himself to death. The first instance Sun had truly made him heartbroken.

Chris stiffled a sob and rested his head against the wall as he waited patiently for his one time "Best friend" to finish with her conversation. He didn't want more people to see him in this state than needed...

“Oh? Wrong?!” she asked with an uncomfortable expression. No one knew but Simon. “No…of course not. I was just, wondering… what you chose to name them. Heh…heh…Well, I’ll see you around right? Simon will be glad to see you,” she said, and nervously turned on her heel as she normally did, her hair waving behind her enticingly as it normally did. No, that wasn’t awkward at all, not in the least bit. Truth be told, she was stuck for a name. If it was a girl, she wanted to name her Bryn, and if it was a boy; Dante…hell she hadn’t even talked it over with Simon yet. They had loads of time. Where is some chemistry I can do… she thought to herself. Ah, yes, chemistry. The thing which took one’s mind off ex-best friends, naming issues, and being so dreadfully tired.

As soon as Sun walked the corner and away from James, Chris got pushed himself away from the wall and in front of Sun.

"Sun...Sun...my old friend...my old best friend. How are you?" he asked quietly, his voice a bit hoarse from rowdy singing and sorrowful sobbing. His eyes rose up to meet her beautiful, envious blue eyes, but fell down as he felt tears falling already. "I have missed you...I have missed our old times- good times- together. I have missed your soothing voice, your comforting touch...you touchy scoldings," he gave off a weak chuckle and wiped his eyes. "Sun...I missed you...and you never called me..."

He began to sob quietly, holding onto the wall for support as he wiped his eyes. He looked up at Sun and smiled weakly again, tears flowing down his cheeks. "You look as beautiful as ever..."

Steven felt embarrassed upon Erik’s correction. Was it really afternoon? Looking down at his wrist, Steven realized that he had forgotten his watch. Cursing himself under his breath, yet another thing caught his attention, out of the corner of his eye.

It was, yet again, nothing more than a shimmer, a seemingly slight stretch in space-time. And then, just as quickly as he had noticed it, the distortion vanished from Steven’s view. He stared in that general direction for a few more moments before shifting his gaze back to the doctor.

“I’m sorry,” Steven muttered, his mind obviously elsewhere. “I am Dr. Bradford.” He paused, wondering if he himself was simply going mad. “Did…you wouldn’t have happened to just see that would you?” He asked, pointing in the direction of the shimmer.

Erik narrowed his eyes very slightly, noticing Steven seeming to be elsewhere. Immediately, he began to wonder if something was wrong with Steven himself or the slight possibility it was Erik. He was rooming with a demon mocking to be his friend after all.

"Pleased to meet you, Dr. Bradford," he said before turning to face where Steven was pointing. He frowned and shook his head. "Doctor, are you well? I could check you over to make sure you have no illnesses."

Erik stopped suddenly and raised an eyebrow in thought. He didn't believe in hauntings however Chris' little robot was acting awkward...and he did hear something bang against the glass. He lost some color in his face and told himself there was no such thing as ghosts. Besides, the hotel seemed relatively new.

"I did however manage to fall asleep despite a rather strange commotion that seemed to keep XR-5something or other entertained," he added quietly, still keeping an eye on the spot Steven pointed to.

Steven cursed once more, but was not about to rule out what he saw this time. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind yet again.

“I’m fine, doctor,” he replied, giving the man a concerned look. Steven had quite enough suspicion a year ago and did not want any more in his life. Given Gabranth’s second secret assignment, he had more than enough on his mind. However, another thing Dr. Mussein said caught his ear. “That’s one of Chris’s robots I take it?” Steven asked. He rubbed his chin in thought. “Perhaps it recorded something?”

“And he intends to do what?”

“I believe he wishes to provoke the Empire,” Viceroy Vinosec Gantatilion replied, shaking his head in disgust.

“What does he know of war?”

“The man is a fool!”

“He is still our Praetor,” the Viceroy replied. He had taken the trip across the desert to the Second Oasis in order to meet with the governors. The Viceroy was, in fact, a military position, and so Vinosec needed to meet with the governors, the Praetor’s second in command, in order to get any political decisions made. “Chosen by a man of glory and honor.”

“He disgraces his predecessor!”

“He disgraces the position!”

Vinosec smiled inside, although his face did not give it away. He was quite the able devil’s advocate, and the governors were fools, easily swayed. The mere public perception against Fithos de Luroth would be enough to crucify the man, and yet if Vinosec could get the governors’ support, this would all be far easier, and for more beneficial in the end.

“So what do we do about it?” Vinosec asked, anxiously awaiting what he hoped would be an answer in his favor.

”We wait for him to fail…”

“We wait for him to give us our opportunity…”

“Then it is done,” Vinosec said, turning away from the governors and walking out of the office, but there was no longer a smile. The situation had quickly turned serious, much more rapidly than Vinosec had anticipated. He would have to move faster.

"Oh...I never really though of that," Erik chuckled. "Silly me, well come on then. If I can figure out how to hook up Chris' robot to my computer- who knows how to work Chris'- then I may be able to view what it was so attentive about. Then again, what if we will just be viewing nothingness for an hour?"

Erik chuckled and unlocked his door, opening it again to reveal a room half clean and half messy, the messy side being that of Chris', despite the fact he's barely been in the room. XR backed away from the window and turned it's camera on the two men before zooming away underneath Chris' desk.

"Something tells me this will be like catching pigs..." the doctor chuckled as he dashed for the robot, only to have it make a hasty get away behind the chair and between Erik's legs. Erik spun around and dived for the robot, smashing into the floor but catching onto the back end of the robot. With a laugh, Erik pulled it towards him and picked it up, adjusting his glasses before setting the robot upside down and slightly leaning on it's raised side so as not to let the robot roll away.

Erik then began to search around for some sort of port or something to hook his computer up to the robot. With a cheerful "Aha" he found something he guessed could be it and hastily dug into Chris' wires to find one that would fit in both his computer and the robot. Within a few minutes he hastily plugged XR into the computer and started it, along with a camera viewing program.

He was in for a treat...

"Heya folks! Welcome to the Chris- Sun show and this is your host, the host with the most, Chris!" came the shockingly familiar voice of his old best friend. The camera showed a bright, cheerful, young face, Chris beaming into the Camera and then panning to look at a very attractive figure laying on a bed with a book in her hands. "And there we go, Lady Sun the beautiful, my co-host!"

The woman looked up, bright blue eyes glancing at the camera, then at Chris who had resumed position behind. She muttered something in what sounded like Russian before shaking her head and returning back to her book.

"Aww, but my lady Sun- what about your adoring fans!" Chris laughed as he walked closer to her and set the camera on the bed- on her book in fact. Sun may have had a smile, but she hastily put her hand on the camera. "Get that away from me!"

Off.

Next clip, sunny day on campus it appeared, Sun sitting in the shade her face buried in yet another book. "Don't tell me you have that infernal camera again, Chris," she said without even looking up.

"You are psychic, aren't you?" came a chuckle behind the camera. "Come on, Sun, show me a smile! I promise to turn it off after one smile."

"No."

There was some shuffling and then revealing a small box of white chocolates, along with a chuckle. "How about I give you these white chocolates with a small smile. Just an iddy-biddy one, alright? Please?"

Sun barely glanced up at the camera before returning to her work. "Promise to turn it off right after?"

"Promise. Cross my heart, hope to die, yadda yadda."

Sun looked up and gave a quick smile before looking back down at her book.

"Yay! Caught on tape folks, a smile from our beautiful friend, Lady Sun." Sun's book raised up to hide her face, but if one listened closely, there may have been a bit of a giggle behind it.

Off.

"Looky here, folks! Day one of my newest project, Robo-doohicky! You see, for class today, we were told to begin designs for a little rover-type robot, you know, the basics. Excited that one of my dreams has come to life, I have hastily made a robot blueprint! Voila!" Chris zoomed onto a piece of notebook paper of a poorly drawn squarish robot with large arms and random antannae and arrows pointing to wierd limbs that were labled as "Lasers".

"Grow up, Chris," came a chuckle from behind, belonging to Sun. Chris laughed.

"Grow down, Sun! Have fun!" he chuckled as he walked off screen. There was a chuckle and a "Go work on your machina!" Before Chris returned with a larger blueprint, better drawn and more detailed.

"I call it XR-54N!"

"Real smart sounding...doesn't suit you."

Chris laughed and looked up behind the camera. "Well, it has a camera...so how about we call it. Camera Rover. CR. No...Wheehicular Camera?"

"That's not even a word."

"Camera on Wheels. How about that? Haha! Cow!"

There was some more russian words and a loud laugh from Chris as he nodded. "Yes, Cow. Behold my friends, you have witnessed the birth of COW..."

Off.

The next bunches of tape seemed to be much of Chris trying to get Sun to smile or laugh on tape, some succeeding, some failing, some even getting the girl to blush a little. Some even hinting at a crush from one of the two. Erik had never seen these...but he felt that it helped him understand the new Chris more...the loss he felt.

Erik cleared his throat uncomfortably and fast forwarded through the next few videos, coming to one noticibly darker.

Tears had obviously stricken his face and he looked on the verge of crying again. There was a long bloody gash along the side of his face, where his scar was at this day.

"I did it...I..." he paused and was wracked with another bout of sobs.

"They are dead...those that had ridiculed me...those that...no...I shouldn't have...But I have...Oh...Sun...look what you have done to me...look what Vespia has done to me..." He paused and looked around as something clatter and wiped away a few tears. "I miss you...And I love you. If I could relive my life...if I could do anything, it would be to return to college and to love you...like I should have...like I should have..."

Another crack and the shouts of something in the background.

"They've found me. I am doomed...most likely to be executed after they take me to the underworld...Sun, know that I will love you forever. That whatever you do, whatever you choose, I can never hate you. My heart belongs to you and you can crush it or embrace it, but I will never raise a hand against you. If you come to get me...if you come to get me...I will be forever indebted to you...Sun...I love you," he whispered as he was hit with another bout of sobbing. He set COW down and the camera turned off, just in time to hear something heavy fall to the floor with a loud gasp.

Off.

Then, an image of a familair slate grey floor- the transport ship. It looked up at a few faces, including Erik who was busy working on his board.

Erik would have laughed for a bit but the previous video had taken a lot of mirth from him.

It turned off briefly before ending up in the room, moving about, almost running into a foot before moving about and stopping by the mirror. It remained that way for several minutes before something glimmered in the light, very briefly and revealing a small roundish shape before it blinked out of existance again. Then, a loud bang and a "What in blazes was that?"

"Did you see that?!" Erik asked suddenly, turning to Steven. It had definately showed something...

Steven quickly rounded on the camera controls, rewinding the tape and pausing as the image came on screen.

“That’s it!” he shouted, pointing towards the screen. “That’s what I saw!”

He quickly searched the controls for a print button before printing a copy for himself. Snatching the paper in his hand, he turned on a light to examine it for a few moments before realizing that eyes on paper was most likely not the most effective means of analyzing what he saw. Pulling his PADD from his lab coat, Steven plugged the device into XR-54N and downloaded that part of the clip, giving it a two-second buffer on either side.

Steven’s mind raced, pondering what the distortion could be. It was as if space itself had been stretched for a few split seconds, altered somehow. He stared at the round object before a troubling thought flashed in his thoughts.

“Doctor,” Steven said, his gaze shifting from the screen, to the printout, and then back to his PADD. “How high in the air would you make this glimmer out to be?” Steven knew exactly what he thought it looked like, but by all means, he hoped more than anything to be proven wrong.

"How high?" Erik asked, surprised by his outburst. Certainly there was something, and something fairly heavy to make such a loud bang, but what could it be?

"I would say...perhaps a foot off the bottom of this floor...no less for sure. And if you look closely, an outline seems to ascend upwards to maybe three feet? XR keeps it in his center view as best it can..." Erik said, pointing to a faint outline floating in the middle of the view.

It wasn’t quite tall enough for what he had hoped it wasn’t, but the pattern was far too similar for his intuition to simply be ignored. He stared back at the picture on his PADD before he considered the rest of the film.

On Vespia, Steven had developed an odd relationship with both Chris and Sun. For Sun, it was always a physical admiration and he considered her quite his intellectual peer, especially as their interactions increased towards the end. Chris was a bit different. Steven imagined the man to have genius potential, but Chris always was far less mature than intelligent, and for a while Steven had become his de facto big brother.

Still, while beautiful women, albeit not ones with Sun’s intellect, had come and gone since the beginnings of Steven’s fame, he found himself missing Chris more than any of them. After all, Steven was the youngest in his family, two years short of Gabranth, and without a girlfriend or even as much as a pet, he had no one to care for. He had no one to teach the ropes to.

Now, as Steven thought on Chris’s recent misfortunes, the man’s child-like innocence seemed long gone. The ordeal at Vespia, coupled with the loss of Sun, had obviously done their damage. After all, Steven had to beg the Blastit authorities to allow him to bail Chris out of prison, ultimately even bribing them to complete the job.

Steven hadn’t asked what Chris had done, respecting the man’s privacy and truly not wanting to know, but their short conversations after Chris was out had shown Steven a changed man. Chris was angry, tied down by loss and regret. Naturally Steven’s mind shifted to Marissa once more.

He too had lost someone, and yet while the longing was nowhere near Chris’s level, the circumstances were far less defined. Vespia had forced Steven to lose a friend, gain her back for an instant, and then lose her for good, all within a day or two. And yet while Chris could see Sun every day if he wished, Marissa had never left Vespia, and barring any unforeseen circumstances, never would. Steven would never see her again, yet he wondered if that made it easier for him than Chris…or worse.

“I think we should keep this to ourselves for now, Dr. Mussein,” Steven muttered finally, turning off his PADD and dropping it into the pocket of his lab coat. “Best not to stir up trouble…”

Yet in his mind, trouble had already been stirred. The pain of Marissa’s death, the worry of Chris’s descent, the responsibility of Gabranth’s assignments, and now the confusion of the distortions all weighed on his mind. For the first time since they had landed, Steven failed to notice the excess gravity. His mind was numb, as it hadn’t been for some time now. A year, to be exact.

"Keep...to ourselves? The phantasm?" Erik asked, unsure if he meant the "Chris Clips" or the small clip of the strange floating orb. He may be able to use these to help Chris...but it would be risky. As for the phantasm, It seemed as though Steven knew something about them, but he was hiding something. Perhaps something he wished not to be revealed in public, or atleast not to Erik.

He only nodded however, respecting the man's right to privacy. "Oh, and please, Doctor Bradford, call me Erik," he said with as much a smile as he could muster.

“You never called me either,” she returned. It was true. “All the blame can’t be put on me, and with how you left me after Vespia, I assumed you didn’t want to talk, and would call me when you were ready. You were the one that walked away, not me.” She said, folding her arms across her chest and looking rather intimidating at 5’6” with her heels. “Listen, Chris…we can’t be friends unless you can accept the fact that I’m marrying Simon, and actually try and get along with him. He’s tried with you.” She waited a response, slightly turned from him and looking out of the corner of her eye. She was stating the obvious, but for Chris, it might have been impossible. She didn’t know. One thing was for sure, this was not the greeting of the man when she first got here. She remembered his comments, and she was angry, but he was crying. She thought it pathetic. Chris was always crying since Vespia…since when they first go there. He had always been a bigger crybaby than Sun could ever be. Perhaps things had changed, perhaps not.

"Aye...I didn't call you..." Chris said with a downtrodden expression. "But I couldn't...a-and I thought you didn't wish to talk to me. How could I shrug away my best friend in college?"

When she spoke of Vespia a storm of conflicting motions befell the engineer. "I didn't leave you. Sun. You left me...shrugged me away when I provided support or help...when I tried to raise your spirits...and then..."

As Simon was brought up, a look of disgust crossed his face. "A wolf in sheeps clothing...sent by the devil to ruin me..."

His face softened again as he looked at Sun. "Marriage...why Sun? Where did we-I- where did I go wrong? In all my years with you...I was beaten by one whom you knew for a few days. Where did my love for you go wrong?"

Elijah sighed slightly as he stood perfectly still, the thermoptics merely blending him in with the scenery of the hotel, sneaking inside, even after a drink last night, had been easy. Now it seemed two of them were onto something, leaning close to the door he frowned, all he could hear was muffled voices, he leant back against the wall before quietly whispering.
“Cup? You outside the window you were yesterday?”
“Um, no.” replied the drone with a squeak as an avatar appeared in the bottom left hand corner of Elijah’s new eye.
“Get out there and listen in for me will you?” he replied his voice barely a hiss.

The drone floated down and hovered outside the window for a second, with a click a discreet IR laser began to focus on the window, it was relatively old technology by any means, a laser placed against the window measured the reactions and movement caused on it by people talking, allowing you to listen in without any silly old-fashioned stethoscopes or having to be physically in the room.

Elijah began pacing back and forth, looking at the “Cup-Cam” as he watched the two lean over the screen and chat. As they reached a part about Chris talking about people he killed Elijah’s interest was peaked and he stopped to lean back on the wall, unfortunately he caught the door and nearly lost his balance, instead causing the door to creak inward by itself.

“Shit.” he muttered to himself before moving away rapidly from the door and down around the corner of the corridor, before stopping and looking at two people arguing in the corridor, one of them he recognised from the videos on the laptop, the guy with the scar. This was him? The way he was crying now didn’t really seem to be so tough, but perhaps that was because he’d let his emotions shine through for a change. Elijah knew the feeling well himself.

“Chris, you were my friend. You were never my boyfriend. You can love someone and not have a romantic relationship with them. I can see that we are never going to work this out. Every time I mention Simon you get jealous. I love him, Chris.” She couldn’t stand Chris like this. She knew he would never get past this; and would be jealous of Simon for all eternity. She didn’t see why he simply could not move on. He had a good deal of friends and would have no problem meeting someone new. “You did leave me as a friend Chris. You did. You were hoping for more which I couldn’t give you, but it didn’t mean our friendship meant nothing. You seem to think that the two are drawn on the same lines. Get it through your head that Simon and I are going to be married. I’m not changing my decision.”

Mike sighed again. Why am I here again? The day had been rather uneventful once again for the New Genoans. Al and Rich had left several hours earlier to try some of the local cuisine and investigate the effect of the warrior culture on the lower classes of Akeldama, and now they were returning amidst a hallway scene of angst.

Al stared as the young man from Blastit poured his heart out to Sun. After Sun's reply, Al shook his head. While the man was certainly pathetic, he couldn't help but feel empathy for him. "You women...sometimes...are naive. This man has shown his dedication to you for...years now, I presume from what I've heard...and you abandon him. He obviously loved you then, and he still loves you now. What I don't understand is why women think they can put a man through all this, and still just consider him a 'friend.' It's a kick in the balls, really, especially when you give your heart out to the next man down the street in a god damn minute while ignoring the one who has served as your friend for years. Did you honestly miss the signs? But what do I know..." Al shook his head again, and turned to Rich. "Come on," he said, "I'm sure Mike has been waiting for us."

"I doubt it," Rich replied. "The only thing that man seems to be waiting for is his own death to take him..."

"No...no...no no no," Chris said as he fell against the wall and slid down. "It's not true...none of it. Sun, I would never...never push you away. You told me you loved me once...you told me you loved me, infaturated with me...I loved you too and I always wanted to be yours....always wanted to be with you by my side...but you brought in Demitri...why? Why? And then...and then..."

"I never asked for anything...no...not until Vespia...not until I told you flat out that I love you....and you left me that very day...and you never helped me anymore...you...left me...left me..."

Then, with he could hear a man, nearby, defend him, him! Oh, perhaps the heavens have heard his prayers...perhaps...perhaps satan himself may get defeated...his sorrowful words have reached someones ears...and they defended him, not tossed him away, not accused him...

He looked up with red, swollen eyes and nodded a thanks, whispering ever so quietly. "yes...thank you...thank you...my heart so heavy as I leave myself groveling...but I have nothing left...nothing..." His eyes turned ever so slightly to see something distort in the air- but only for a second. Taking it for a tear, Chris looked back up at Sun who at the moment of his sitting down, towered overed over him for once. "Sun...let's return to college. Let's relive our times...let us refresh out memories..." he whispered sadly.

“Excuse me,” she said to the other man, and slapped him hard across the face with a fire in her impossibly blue eyes. She was more than angry; livid. Her fiery auburn hair fell in front of one eyes, but it was as if the other could be seen blazing beneath the strands. “You don’t know either of us. Stay the fuck out! You know…maybe you should ask him what he was doing the day before he told me he loved me…like taking pictures underneath my skirt for kicks.” She glared at Chris. “You have no fucking idea what I went through on Vespia…you don’t know what it feels like to die, well I do. I was dead.” She was absolutely gorgeous when she was angry, but there was a seriousness to her that tore like a razor and showed how very deep she had been cut. This man had no place in this conversation, none at all.

“This whole act won’t work Chris,” she said shaking her head at him with disgust. “You greeted me with name calling and quite the threat. I’m not letting you close to me again, not when I have other people to worry about, and not when I have a child to worry about. I’m not going to risk their lives because of your jealousy. Sorry, it won’t happen. If you do anything, I swear, by all means I won’t hesitate to inject carbolic acid into your veins.” He had heard that before; but her words were easy to understand. A mother will do absolutely anything to protect her child. “I was going to tell you when we met, but you didn’t seem to want to know. You wanted to do far many other things than sit and actually talk to me.” She was so mad her senses were reeling; yet her life signs couldn’t even be detected. After she had been abducted on Vespia; everything changed.

“When your ready to talk call me, but for now stay the hell away from Simon and I,” she turned away from him and walked down the hall. It had pissed her off even more that the other man had interjected. It was not his conversation to be eavesdropping on or give advice. Chris probably planned it or something of the sort, to get close to her, to harm Simon; to harm her child. She wouldn’t have it.

The doors in the hotel were far from 'modern', and did not, like some others, stop sound. As such, Simon and James both looked up as they heard yelling in the hallway, and Simon instantly assumed the worst. Even as James opened his mouth to say they should go see what was happening, Simon was on his feet and nearly running for the door, which he tore open, stepping quickly into the hallway. He could see an angry Sun walking away, Chris on the floor leaning against a wall crying, and another man nursing his cheek, and he instantly assumed something - in retrospect, he couldn't even remember what he had assumed.

He barely took notice of the others, more in passing glance than anything else, as he ran after Sun, right past Chris, and stepped in beside her at the same speed she was walking at: quickly. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he could see and feel she was angry, and he needed to get her away from Chris before she did something she would probably regret later, or before he came after them. Simon, his one arm around her shoulders, giving her a stabilizing presence, moved in close to her. "Let's get out of here," he said quietly. "Just go out, go somewhere else." Do something scientific. get your mind off this. Give Chris a chance to think about whatever it is you said.

James followed him outside, but rather than running after Sun decided to give the couple time to themselves. He stood in the doorway of their room, keeping a wary eye on Chris. Given his emotional state, he wouldn't have put anything past Chris at that moment.

"No, Sun. You have no idea what I've been through...I died...I died many times...ask Steven what he went through to bring me back..." Chris replied, his tears seeming to slow down as his voice rose. On Vespia...on Blastonia...many times...I feel as though I am to die now. "And I looked up your skirt? You ignored everything else I did...you kept me away, you pushed me away. I asked for your attention many times...and that seemed the only way to get it. I was foolish to do it...I don't know what was going through my mind...Sun...you have hurt me so much more...but I don't take from you...I love you no less...even with all the threats..."

"And I was always there, willing to talk, always there to listen. Always...don't let lies fill your head....don't let your...Simon decieve you..."

As she turned away, dark thoughts filled his head. Not of hurting Sun, no never that. But that Sun was never going to talk to him. "You had all this time to talk to me...to talk to me about my past...about anything...but you don't talk to me." His face darkened as he watched them move away, his eyes glaring at Simon. "Go twist her to your words, demon...but know that one day...I shall try to bring her back...bring her back away from the devil..." he spat quietly before scooting back to his corner. He glanced again at the men that helped defended him and nodded again, before trying to hide himself in the darkness.

Alfonso raised his eyebrows. He had well expected a reaction, after all, he had -- Sun had said -- interjected into their conversation unwarranted. The woman was obviously fiery, independent, sharp...attractive. His eyes wandered a bit before he postured up to make a response.

"Listen, bitch," he began, obviously knowing the physical implications his words carried, "I don't care who you are, what you've done, or what he's done. It's women in general. You throw men out like him to the dogs for the next flavor of the week. I recall on Vespia you were dating someone else, were you not? What the hell happened to him? What about before him? How long does an average relationship for you last? How many hearts do you break for your own selfish means? I may not know every last god damn detail of your life but judging from your personality you're a..."

"Al," Richard whispered, leaning over, "shut the hell up. You're getting yourself into deep shi..."

Al continued, "a self-obsessed egotistical bitch. And there's no more a succinct way to describe it. You want to give me a kick in the balls? Go ahead, but be aware, I have no quarrels with hitting a woma..."

"AL!" Rich said much louder this time. "Her fiance's right there! He's going to kick your ass!"

"And to you, kind sir, I have nothing against you. You simply showed up in the wrong place at the wrong time, but be careful with this woman...the inflection of her voice alone tells the story of her romantic life."

Rich just shook his head. "Dig your own grave, Al." He walked down the hallway to his room. Three hours without internet access was killing him.

Simon had been prepared to accept whatever words Chris felt like throwing at him, and at Sun, to take them with a grain of salt as the words of a wounded man, and despite the shouts at the back of his head from Chris, calling him a devil and a demon and threatening him with stealing his fiancée back, something he no longer considered possible, ever, with how Chris was acting. But the other man suddenly breaking in, insulting Sun for no reason, got to him. He stopped and turned, breaking his grip on Sun's shoulders. His eyes blazed. James was shocked, looking from down the hallway at the scene playing out. He had seen his friend like this once before, and had had to pull him off a man in a bar afterwards and escape before the authorities showed up - reckless days in first-year university. Now, however, given the man's comments, he was prepared to attack the man as much as Simon was.

"You know what?" Simon said, his voice starting quiet and slowly building, addressing both men now in front of him. "Fuck you. Fuck you both. Chris, I didn't want it to be like this. I'm in love with Sun, and we're going to get married, no matter what the fuck you have to say about it. And the more you act like this, the less I give a shit what you say. I'm not a demon or a devil or whatever-the-fuck else you're going to call me, and I don't care if you think I am, because it doesn't change a thing about how I feel about Sun. You're wrong." Then he turned to the other man. Given what he had said about Sun, he was surprised that Chris was not at the other man's throat as well.

"And you, you son of a bitch," Simon said, nearly shouting by this point, "you can go to hell. You don't have a clue what you're talking about. And right now ..." he paused and bit his lip for a moment, trying to contain his anger, before continuing. "Right now I'd really like to punch you in the face. But I won't. Not because I respect you, because I don't. For other reasons." He turned to walk away with Sun once again, trying his hardest to restrain himself. James raised his eyebrows. Once, his friend had been so impulsive that by now he would have been fighting the man. Being with Sun had changed him. In this instance, whether that was a good or a bad thing, James couldn't decide.

As Al's words sunk in, Chris looked up, a glare on his face. "Don't blame her, don't call her names...it is not so much her fault as it is his...his..." However what Al had said, put Chris on edge. He would strike back if he did hit her. If he hit Simon, that would be a different matter...

At his words, Chris turned to Simon. "Oh? What is it then? You talk to her for a few minutes...you knew all along I liked her. You knew all along...and you steal her from me! How long have you known her, huh? You imbecilic little prat," Chris growled, his sorrow beginning to get replaced by anger. "You should have died when you were on Vespia. All you've done is ruin others lives. Who else do you truly know on this? Huh? You seem to have dedicated yourself to ruining My life."

"You never cared what I said, you infernal fool. The day you took her from me, I spoke, I spoke often. Even to you, they weren't words of anger...But you ignored me. I could have killed you that day...but I didn't. Think about it. Think about it long and hard, while you sleep, while you eat...while you breath. You never tried to make friends with me, despite what you both say. In fact, I remember no instance when you tried to talk to me."

***

While Erik was awaiting the answer as well as watching the remainder of XR's tape when a noisey racket broke his concentration.

"What's that?" he asked, his mind flitting to Chris and his unsual attitude since he met him after college..."Oh no..."

He ran to the door and opened it, swinging it wildly open and rushing into the hall only to see not only Chris, Sun, and Simon, but also someone who seemed a friend of Simon by his proximity, and two other men, along with Chris, on the floor who looked like he had been sobbing quite a lot.

"Hold on a second!" He shouted, rushing himself in between all of them, right in the middle. "We are all a team here, folks. I don't know what's happened, but we can't ruin ourselves! Think of our unity! Together we rise, apart we fall! People are looking up to us to explore this culture and we cannot let this squabbling falter our mission!" At the moment, he realized the position he was in. His balls could be kicked out by the angry looking man in front of him, behind him another man would break his back, the woman would break his neck with her heels, and Chris...if Chris got off the floor would most likely mangle his body and leave a mutilated mess.

But he didn't care. It was bad enough one man was a mess, but if the whole group turned into one, who knows what may happen...

“Прямо сейчас, Вы не могли бы быть в состоянии ударить кулаком его в лице, но я могу конечно нарушить его,” Sun muttered under her breath, in Russian; something that Chris knew would lead to a very hard pummeling. While he was taller than her, her years of training as a child and as a priestess of the temple left her cold and raw with way too much technique to break things with. He didn’t know about Demitri; how he was using her to make ties between families, and she had almost let him. Oh no, this boy knew nothing. It happened faster than the blink of an eye. A swift kick delivered right to his stomach, and as the other man arched over, a knee to his face; and she clearly drove it, using the man’s size to her advantage and driving his head down with her hands to her knee. Her heel’s easily could have made gashes, but she couldn’t tell, wasn’t sure if they did. She wouldn’t kick a man in the balls; that was just low. She would, however, proceed to beat the shit out of one fairly. With that quick motion, she felt herself being pulled back by Simon. He knew that she wouldn’t have stopped unless there was someone there to stop her. She was fast; not quite as strong, but fast and precise. Sun did not fight like a girl. If anyone here, maybe Chris could have overpowered her in a fight. She was pretty sure he could have any time he wanted to. But this fellow; this fellow got what was coming to him. She didn’t attack Chris for his words, didn’t even make the slightest movement towards him. He had a place in this conversation; the other man had no right. Simon wasn’t what this man had to fear for his life; it was Sun. She was livid.

He had no idea she had two relationships her entire life; one with Demitri, one with Simon. That was it. That was her love life. She was always too busy studying to even look up from the pages of her book. She had never wanted a relationship, only chemistry. Simon’s arms tightened around her, and she was still fighting for control over her body to tear the man’s throat out. He had gone, way, way, to far. Never mess with Russian women. It will be the death of you. She could peg the newcomer as one who easily objectified women; who had no use for them other than lustful purposes. It disgusted her. Sun was an independent woman and always had been. She relied on no man, but on herself for where she had gotten to in life. She was the top chemist in her nation, and not for sleeping with any man. She was knowledgeable; very knowledgeable, able to tell nearly any compound recorded and use them. It was what she did. Nothing would be reconciled with Al here, nothing at all. If anything, it was worsening matters three fold. “Let me go,” she whispered softly in Russian to Simon, which was pronounced ‘otpuctish menya’. He had been able to pick up some Russian. When she was in a state of emotion she couldn’t really distinguish between whether she was speaking common or Russian.

She felt his hands give, but she didn’t think he meant to. Anyway, the man had just begun standing up and she kicked up under his ribcage before feeling Simon’s arms haul her off of Al once more and place a good deal of distance between them. For once; Chris wasn’t the one receiving the brutality. In all actuality, the worse Chris ever got was on Vespia with the two punches. She considered this worse than what Chris did. She hated insolent people, especially when they tried to get into her life. “к черту!” she growled, which literally meant go to the devil, pronounced 'k chyortu." Her voice was beautiful, even though she was livid. It drifted across his ears, and given the situation, it was a curse. Otherwise; alone it would have sounded like a melody. She was no longer fighting Simon's restraint, and had eased up in his arms.

Elijah shook his head at the fight as he stood to the side of the corridor. Quite pathetic to be honest that people could fight over something so small-bloody minded. The reality was there was somebody who had trained as a professional recon expert so was versed in some forms of fighting, not to mention the trouble and dirty fighting techniques he used when younger.

With a slight grin he decided that they needed scaring back into unity, if some hidden danger was lurking around then perhaps they might buck their ideas better than as back on Vespia. Striding across the corridor, with a slight murmur Cup came crashing through the window of the room he was floating outside and burst into the corridor.

Cup boomed out a kind of animalistic snarl and deactivated his thermoptic camouflage, a plate sliding from the bottom of its dome to reveal a barrel of a weapon which flickered between the various scientists as it floated backwards to hover by Elijah.

Elijah took a few more paces back away from the group in general and decided to let his eye shine through, he pulled a little of his thermoptic cloak away from him, showing only the metal portion of his face and his dark red eye.

“Just because you’re in a civilisation that has welcomed you here does not mean you’re any safer. Suggest you try and not beat the crap out of each other and keep an eye on your own backs, no?” he grinned and shook Simon around a little in his grip.

“Perhaps I should make an example out of your lack of caution one day?” He snarled quietly as he stepped a little further back, his eye darting across to look at Simon and Sun, then at Chris, at which point the pupil of his eye did something. It turned into a line before reforming into a circle. It was a wink.

Then in a second his face had vanished from sight, along with the drone, they could then hear clanking and clattering down the stairs which receded fairly quickly.

By this time, Ernest had awoken from his stupor and managed to stumble out into the hallway due to the clamor. Still without pants, Dr. Puzo met Steven on the way, both rushing to where the screaming was occurring. Chris’ emotions were once again facing off against those of Sun’s, and Steven had seen this before. Chris’ nose paid the price previously.

It was only after Alfonso’s declaration of Sun as an “egotistical bitch,” with both Simon and Chris present, that Steven felt he needed to get involved. After all, they were scientists here for science, no less. Bickering and in-fighting had no place in what they were meant to do, let alone a full out brawl. Grabbing Chris to prevent him from doing anything stupid, Steven threw himself into the mix, as Imperial soldiers, wearing the usual ODIN Battle Armor, slowly began walking to the commotion.

It was then that Steven saw it again. The distortion flickered in space right behind Simon, and Steven felt his grip on Chris loosen. There was, however, no time to react, for Simon, who had been actively trying to avoid any conflict, was lifted up in the air by the collar of his shirt. Simon thrashed in the air, suspended by his shirt, and he seemed to move back from the group, the other staring at him in shock.

From the distortion, a man emerged, or what Steven could only assume was a man. Only part of him appeared, and most of that was metal. A deep red eye shown through as well, as the man spoke of “safety” and “examples.” Steven stared in shock as the man lowered Simon to the ground, kicking him twice before disappearing yet again. However, the distortion remained, the blur in space-time still apparent, and Steven snapped out of his trance.

“Guards!” Steven screamed as a hung over Ernest ran to check on Simon. Seeing the scene play out, the soldiers ran to Steven, who pointed them down the stairs. “This way!”

The soldiers and Steven alike raced down flight after flight of stairs, the soldiers leaping some in formation, battle ready. However, by the time they got down to the ground floor, they were no where closer to their objective than where they began. Actually, since the distortion had by all means dissipated, they were by all means farther away.

“Scan the area,” Steven ordered, the guards hesitating to react. After all, what authority did he have? Steven, however, would not be put off by practical things such as chain of command. “Scan the area, Lieutenant!” he ordered, turning around and glaring at the lead man in the armor.

“There are too many people,” the lieutenant replied. “We could never single out one man, invisible to our eyes.” Steven looked up at the crowded streets as hundreds of people seemed to notice one foreigner and six soldiers in armor standing together outside of the hotel. All of his anger was culminating to a climax.

“Fuck!” Steven screamed, turning around and storming back into the hotel. The rapid descent down the stairs in doubled gravity had exhausted him, and he now felt tired and sore. Violently slamming open the door, he burst back into the lobby in a fit of rage.

Steven had figured from the picture that the distortion was in the shape of a man, and now his suspicion had just been confirmed. It made sense; the Empire’s own adaptive camouflage was originally created for spying on others, but it was hardly reassuring. They were being watched, Steven realized, cursing aloud again as the lift arrived on the top floor.

Suddenly Chris’s unrequited love, Sun’s temper, Alfonso’s attitude, and what would turn out to be Simon’s bruises didn’t matter to Steven. They were being watched, just as they had watched countless other cultures from behind the scenes. The question which remained, however, was, “Who watches the watchers?”

Sun turned her attention, and couldn’t wrap her mind around what she had seen. It seemed like from that point forward, the room was swimming, and the woman passed out in Simon’s arms. Whether it was the shock, or the Vespian blood now within her, wasn’t apparent. It could have been something else. Sun wasn’t one to pass out at random times. She stopped breathing.


“Why are you here?” she heard the question ringing in her ears. It was her own question, to someone else.

“I’m waiting here for you so that…” there was a pause, then a feeling of coldness. “When you need me, you’ll find me here. Stay low soft, dark, and dreamless far beneath your nightmares.”

“I hate me for breathing without you. I'm not grieving for you there is nothing this can’t change. Though I may have lost my way all the paths lead straight to you.”

She looked around, and was waste deep in water with no horizon, but a clear depth. No sky, nothing. It was cold. She felt herself slipping under as if to sleep, but rather to drown. She looked up at the colorless sky, and then realized, she couldn’t breath. She didn’t struggle; she let the feeling consume her. Until she breathed in the water, which seemed like air to her, pouring through her body, making her muscles tingle with feeling.


She breathed in; the time elapsed only seconds. Simon was still holding her; her eyes were glassy and looked navy in this light. There was no explanation why her eyes were such a rich blue. They were unique. Her hand immediately traveled to her cross on her chest, and she stood on her own, not making eye contact with Simon, but simply waiting, waiting to leave. She reached on the inside of short jacked and removed a blade. Her demeanor was extremely calm; complacent. There was no fire in her. It was as if she had shown two sides of a coin. She handed the blade to Simon. She would have chased after him, but she would not risk it. Not this time. Maybe on Vespia and not now. “Don’t ask questions,” she said softly; her voice cool and calm; like the ocean on a summer’s night. She couldn't explain to him; ever since vespia she had had spells like these.

"Go ahead."

Simon nodded quickly and took off after Steven and the soldiers, tearing down the stairs after the invisible man. Gripping the knife tightly in his hand, he rounded the last corner into the lobby and then outside onto the street. The man, predictably enough, was nowhere to be seen. Upon discovering the man was gone, he swore violently, finishing off with an extra loud "God damn it!" and kicking his foot against the side of the building. Were it not for the extra gravity, he may have broken a toe. As it was, he winced slightly and decided not to do it again. He followed Steven back inside and into the lift, neither of them saying anything, both lost in their own thoughts. It was only as the door opened and they stepped out of the lift, Steven swore loudly, and Simon finally broke the tension.

"Who the fuck was that? And how did he get into our hotel? And why is he watching us? What the hell was that robot thing?" He looked over at Steven, walking beside him, and seeing the other scientist's face shook his head, sighing and looking at the ground. "No, I'm not asking you. I don't expect you to know any more than ... than I expect an angel to appear and give us all the answers. I'm just mad, and frustrated, and to tell the truth I'm a little nervous. This whole thing feels a little off, Steven. Off-colour. There's something strange about it all. I can't quite describe it, but this place makes me uneasy." He paused for a moment in his speech. "Maybe it was the fact we were being watched and I didn't know it," he said hopefully.

Yeah, maybe. The thought echoed in his mind as the two men walked around the final corridor and back into the scene that had played out only minutes earlier.

With Al having recieved a very hurtful looking blow, Chris winced slightly, having once been at the recieving end of that terrible fist of fury. He felt sorry for Al...yet also...a tinge of satisfaction...he would have reacted much as Simon had should he have been the one beside her.

Chris was very much astounded as a strange figure appeared behind Simon. He didn't know what to think- his mind was a mess. He was somewhat drunk, had no sleep, and was now in the middle of a large confrontation of his once fellow peers...and some unknown creature that turned invisible soon after...


"What the-?" he began before Sun fainted, luckily, into Simon's arms. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled a bit, unsure of what exactly was happening. "Sun? What's wrong? Is it..." he began to think of her earlier comment of herself being pregnant? Or was it that she had children? Chris placed his hands on his forehead and stumbled closer.

"What's happening?" he repeated when he saw her pull a blade out of her pocket. Erik, who was trying to prevent a fight from the beginning turned to look and cocked his head to the side.

"What are you doing?"

"You can't chase after someone invisible," Erik said worriedly as Simon ran down the stairs where the noise took place. "What kind of mess have we all gotten ourselves into?"

Chris stumbled closer to Sun, but not too close, remembering well her warning to keep away from her. "Sun...are you alright?"

“I didn’t know it either,” Steven told Simon as the two men rounded the corridor. Ernest was waiting for Steven and Simon when they returned.

“You’re taking this to Captain Gabranth, aren’t you?” Ernest asked, worry quite obvious in his voice.

“No,” Steven muttered, shaking his head. “We don’t need more military.”

“Then I am,” Ernest replied. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“I’m taking it to the Praetor,” Steven announced. “They have a right to know they’re being spied on.”

“Oh?” Ernest sneered. “Like the Vespians did?”

“This really isn’t the time…” Steven said, glaring at the man he brought along.

“Besides,” Ernest continued. “Who says the Akeldama are even the ones being watched?”

“I do,” Steven snapped back, lying through his teeth.

Ever since Vespia she had those visions, or communications. She had them more often in prayer than anything. A few times Simon had come home and found her on the floor passed out but in only a few seconds she was revived simply by touch. She looked up at Chris, as he was a good deal taller than her as she leaned back against the wall. She looked at him with those impossibly blue eyes. He had met her before the change; when they were the normal light blue people’s eyes normally were. Then one night, she came back to the apartment with eyes of blazing sapphire. She never explained it. Perhaps the only one she had said anything really to about where they got their color from was Simon. She ran her fingertips over her cross. She was left with two options; pray or do chemistry. There was, however, no chemistry for her to do. This was not her line of work until there were samples to be studied.

“I’m fine,” she said eventually, and started to walk back toward her room. Her eyes were downcast, which was something that no one was really used to seeing. They still looked glassy; fragility in the gaze. Fragility that could solidify in the blink of an eye. She had become two separate people after Vespia. When she was at the temples, she was calm, cool, collected. She was gentle, sympathetic. There were times though, like today, where she rotated completely into the fiery woman she was more known for being since Vespia. She had always had a quick tongue. Perhaps it was because she was becoming maternal, but she shrugged it off. She just wanted to sleep. She was dreadfully tired, but somehow, she didn’t feel the gravity weighing her down. She just felt mentally tired. “I just need some rest,” she assured him, and disappeared into her room.

Simon quickly detached himself from Steven and Ernest, making his way back towards the other group. Sun was gone, and he bit his lip slightly, suddenly nervous, his eyes darting until James put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. Simon was suddenly visibly relieved, and nodded his thanks to his friend, saying a few quiet words to him, and turning towards his and Sun's room, walking quickly to the door. James, meanwhile, turned to Steven and Ernest, walking up to them and boldly placing himself beside the two of them.

"Steven, did you say you're going to see the Praetor?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer. "I'm coming with you." He didn't bother to explain himself, not to offer any words of insight on what had happened. He was straight to the point, and very, very blunt. It was in the words he said, in his tone of voice, and in his mannerisms.

Sun breathed in heavily and poured herself a glass of ice water. Her skin was frozen. She turned on the sink and pooled water into her hands and brought it to her face. She brought it to her skin. It felt refreshing. She fixed her hair perfectly once more and sighed softly. Both her clothes and heels were still intact. That was a good thing. After waiting a few minutes to regain her composure, she walked back into the hall with her long auburn hair falling freely, effortlessly, and perfectly down her back and long tapered bangs framing her cheeks. She saw both Steven and Simon walking down the hallway. She caught their conversation. They were going to see the praetor. She had noticed a sense about people more and more she was noticing. But to Simon, he may notice her acting odd. She approached them as they walked.

“I would like to see the praetor as well,” she said, addressing Steven, with more of a look as ‘I’m coming with you’. She looked at Simon, and slipped the knife out of his hand with a slight smile, and reconcealed it. She bent towards him and whispered to him. “Let me go. Stay here, make food, but that man had you targeted. I don’t want you out here. I know what your going to say, but,” she quickly kissed him. It was a chaste kiss. “Just let me go alone.”

Erik began to walk towards Sun's room when he was stopped by Chris.

"She needs rest...give it to her," he said quietly.

"But what if she is in dire need of doctoring?" Erik replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Let her rest for now," Chris, replied as he walked to his own room.

"Alright. For now," Erik replied quietly, watching everyone disband. He walked over to Al, making sure he was alright and patching up what outer wounds he had before releasing him for the moment. It sounded as though there was commotion going on in the lobby, something about going to meet the Praetor. Chris turned around and stumbled towards the conversation.

"Go get rest, Chris. You aren't well...you can't hide your ailments from me."

Chris frowned and grumbled something before walking into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Erik smiled at Al and told him to get some rest before walking into the lobby.

"Doctor Steven, I wish to go with you. I may be able to help with some of my experience of the psych," he said quietly, pushing up his glasses before clamping his hands behind his back.

Steven said nothing as he stormed into the lift, James, Erik, and Sun in tow. He was more pissed than worried about being watched. In spite of the implications, Steven realized that anymore surveillance was common place, especially in non-Imperial places such as this. His main concern, on the other hand, was getting the Praetor to believe him. After all, this would be his chance.

His orders were to analyze the possibility of an Akeldama super-weapon, as well as gain knowledge on the Laeroxian slave-race. Steven hoped that under the threat of foreign espionage other than the Empire, he would be forcing someone’s hand into play. He would bet it all on this bluff, for with the way things were going, there wasn’t much else to do. No science was being accomplished whatsoever.

After the lift had opened on the ground floor, the four of them stepped out into the lobby. Steven ordered the Akeldama guard to fetch them a transport, and the guard, under orders to assist the visitors in any way possible, quickly obliged. A driver pulled up in an Akeldama speeder, and Steven, James, Erik, and Sun climbed into the back.

Steven sat straight up, thoughts racing through his mind. His eyes darted around the vehicle, finally settling on Sun’s left hand. Steven smiled. It had been a few weeks since he had contacted her about coming along, and a year before since he had a long conversation with her, and now she appeared to be married. Time flies, for sure.

“How are you feeling?” Steven asked, noting that Sun did not look well.

Sun’s demeanor changed instantly and she put on a pleasant smile. “I’m fine really, just a bit of stress as of late,” she remarked. She knew that Simon knew what it was about. He had seen some of it. “Not much chemistry to do around here,” she said, and shrugged her shoulders. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for the arrival. She was very interested in this praetor. The supposed spy did not really surprise her or stir her that much. After Vespia, little startled her. One of those things was finding out that she was pregnant. She wasn’t opposed to it, she just wasn’t expecting it. Abortion is taboo in the Three United Empires as well as illegal. Women had the right to choose, and given their empress was one of the most brilliant women around albeit otherworldly, a woman had no right to choose the outcome of someone else’s life. Neither did a man.

“Simon and I got engaged, and he moved in with me into a new house a few weeks after I got back. I got a job as one of the leading chemists in the national research labs because of Vespia and the new compounds in my blood,” she was a bit bitter when she mentioned the serum in her blood. That, however, was to be expected.

“Good to see Vespia wasn’t all bad for you either,” Steven said, shrugging as well. “I wrote a book on it…you should really read it sometime.”

The compound that she mentioned was the true reason Steven had brought her along. According to her accounts after Vespia, both she and Marissa were injected in captivity with the very vials the Vespians used on themselves. However, as Marissa had no reason any more to give off life signs, Sun was very much alive, and yet still invisible to sensors.

“As for chemistry,” Steven continued, looking out the window. The Palace of the Praetor was rapidly approaching. “I was wondering if you have examined yourself in the past year. Unforeseen side effects…that sort of thing…”

James laughed aloud at the mention of Steven's book. "You sound like 'Dr Puzo'," he said playfully, putting a pretentious accent on the last two words. "Talking about your book like that." He could see the palace, which they were rapidly approaching, and took a deep breath. He wasn't really anxious or worried about anything anymore, not since Vespia. Once, meeting the maniacal despotic ruler of an entire warrior-planet would have made him apprehensive, even withdrawn. Now he just saw it as a new challenge, a new experience. Something else to make him grow.

"I'm NOT a science project," Sun interjected. Apparently a good few many people had asked her that way too many times. “If side effects are going to happen I’ll know. What’s going on with me right now is probably due to the fact I became a priestess of a temple,” she looked at Steven with a smile. Now that was something few would expect, but you could see it in her serenity, her calmness. Her voice was like the wind whispering. Albeit, priests and priestesses worked differently in the Three United Empires...much differently.

“Bah,” Steven grumbled at the mention of him being similar in ego to Ernest. He wasn’t denying it completely, for being awarded man of the year did not come without personality effects, but he was somewhat appalled at the idea that he was now on par with Dr. Puzo. Sun’s comment, however, made him frown all the more.

“I apologize,” Steven told the woman, upset that she did not want to run tests on herself, and not hiding his discontent well. She was, after all, a scientist. Still, Vespia had changed them all in their own subtle ways, and Steven imagined the interrogation she got from the Imperial Military upon being rescued did nothing to help the situation. She was barely allowed to return home, but the Emperor thought that it was in Orion’s best interest to allow her to depart from the Sector. No need to draw more attention to the serum itself.

By then, the transport had arrived at the Palace. The driver stopped, as two armed guards opened the door on the back of the vehicle, letting the four foreigners out. The guards protested their arrival, but Steven muttered something about having the right to, and threatened to tell Praetor de Luroth that they would be going against his orders if he did not let them pass. The soldiers thankfully obliged.

Steven stormed down the Palace halls, with Erik, James, and Sun close behind. Eventually he came to the great doors of the Praetor’s office, having to argue with multiple sets of guards along the way. However, as it was the last time, Xu walked out of the office before Steven could enter. This time, unfortunately, she was in tears.

“Oh!” she gasped, not expecting to see any of them at this time or in this condition. Her pretty face quickly grew red with embarrassment, and Steven could make out what appeared to be a bruise on her cheek. Her soft hair looked rather messy as well. Concerned, he reached out to help her, but she quickly ran off down the hallway.

Inside, Praetor de Luroth and Viceroy Gantatilion were engaged in heated debate, but both ceased their argument the instant the four entered the office. Vinosec instantly reached for his weapon, but Steven, although unarmed, didn’t falter.

“What is the meaning of this?” Vinosec demanded, his weapon aimed. Fithos seemed too upset by something to get involved, instead just staring at the lot of them in confusion.

“There has been an incident,” Steven replied, ignoring the gun and the Viceroy all together, but instead talking to the Praetor himself.

“I can assure you,” Vinosec interrupted, asserting himself. “That if one of my men assaulted one of yours, he was surely provoked…”

“It wasn’t one of your men,” Steven snapped at the Viceroy before turning his head and attention back to Fithos. “It wasn’t an Akeldama at all.”

“Laeroxian?” Fithos asked, squinting his eyes to gage Dr. Bradford’s true intentions. To his credit, Steven seemed concerned, and honest, enough.

“I wouldn’t know,” Steven admitted, before proceeding to a lie. A chance had arrived. “I came here to ask you about them.”

“Did what attacked your man look like a lizard?” Vinosec asked, his face twisted in disgust. “If so I can promise you that we will…punish this beast of a…”

“No,” Steven replied, his interest in the Laeroxian peaking significantly at the idea that they were not mammals. He wondered if they were humanoid at all. Fithos would stop his wondering, however. "No one was attacked."

“Come now,” the Praetor interjected, looking at his Viceroy. “That’d be like likening us to apes. Hair verses scales does not make a man.”

“Now’s not the time for this,” Vinosec replied, glaring at his leader. Fithos did not take the glare well.

“I agree,” the Praetor responded, glaring back at his second in command. “However, if I want to discuss something, it is always the time for it. Correct?” Viceroy Gantatilion nodded reluctantly. “Correct?!” Fithos asked, his voice raising.

“Yes,” Vinosec snarled.

“Good,” Praetor de Luroth replied. “Now you are dismissed.” For once, Vinosec did not object, storming out of the office without as much as a salute. Fithos shook his head, much on his mind. “I apologize,” he said at last. “You’ve caught me at an odd time.”

“Is Xu ok?” Steven asked, unable to avoid the question much longer.

“She’s just fine,” Fithos replied, giving Steven an odd look, as if telling him to mind his own business. “She gets…emotional…” He paused, breathing in deep. “Now, if no one was attacked, what is the problem?”

“That’s the thing,” Steven responded, not happy about having to change the subject away from the Praetor’s crying fiancée but understanding the need to do so. “He appeared out of nowhere…probably cloaked. He appeared to be made partially of metal. He then vanished just as quickly as he arrived.”

“That sounds like a good story,” Fithos said.

“I can assure you that it is neither good, nor a story,” Steven shot back.

“I don’t mean to discredit you,” Fithos said, shaking his head. “You understand, though, that what you’re saying is hard to believe.”

“Believe what you will, Praetor,” Steven said, his tone foreboding. “But if the man that appeared out of thin air is not a Laeroxian, and you do not have access to the type of technology he uses, you do realize that you are being spied on.” Steven paused for dramatic effect. “They could even be here, in this room.” Fithos frowned at the idea of a foreign agent in his office.

“I will…” Praetor de Luroth replied, unsure of a proper response. “This will be looked into.” He seemed quite troubled. Perhaps it’s time, Fithos thought to himself. Perhaps it’s time after all. “Thank you…for bringing this to my attention…”

“That’s not good enough, Praetor,” Steven replied, seeing how far he could push the man. “Now you can’t insure our safety. You can’t even insure your own.”

Sun observed a woman walk out of the office with a bruise on her face and tears in her eyes. Sun was envious of her; being able to cry so easily. It was a signal that you were in pain, that you wanted comfort. While Sun could find comfort, she never really could receive it without words. She never cried. She did feel a bit of spite for the character as well. She assumed that it was her husband who had hit her. If Simon ever hit Sun, there would be more than a guarantee that all of his bones would be broken individually. Of course, Simon would never do that. She had heard things here about the government, about the people, about views on women. She found it ironic. She was in a culture the complete opposite of her own. In the Three United Empires, women were revered, and most held top positions in the government or otherwise.

“I was there and saw him,” Sun said, stepping a bit forward into the office. Steven and the praetor seemed to be having a battle of words where Sun reigned supreme. It was only if she could focus and actually form them that she would have an effect. “My eyes, unlike all of their’s, never have a chance to deceive me.” It was in this change of light that they looked royally blue; deep and rich in color. They had ranges from this cerulean royal blue to navy in dark light, but either way they stunned you for a few seconds. “Now when a man appears out of no where, threatens someone, winks at another, several people witness it, he just vanishes from sight, we come to the praetor, and he takes it in stride as if the lot of us are crazy,” Her head was held high which fit her exceptional posture. “No, that does not make us safe. That does not make anyone safe. If someone can avoid your detections, it makes them quite dangerous. It could be very harmful to not just you, if this person follows through with his threat or if he is not the only one. If you miss one you are likely to have missed more.” She was talking about people who could avoid detection? Hell, she couldn’t be sensed by machinery. Her only concern in the back of her mind would be they would find that out and end up as a science experiment. However, that was in the back of her mind, and she was far too pretty, a hell of a lot prettier than Jim, to become a lab rat.

“Blessed is the leader who seeks the best for those he serves,” Sun said with a cool fire in her eyes. Was she angry? Calm? Annoyed? Zealous? It was so hard to tell, especially at that moment. She concealed emotions so well. If the praetor expected all women to bow before him, he had another thing coming with Sun. Silently, she thought about Marissa, and wished she were here. They could have both given him a tongue lashing easily. Right now she wasn’t striking at him for questions on that yet, but rather was more concerned with the scientist’s safety than anyone else’s. “It would be better to do something about it rather than look. If this is a precursor for what is to come and you have looked down on this warning, the first deaths will not be on our heads for not informing you, but rather on yours for doing absolutely nothing.”

“What in the name of the Gods did you do Elijah?” hissed Fran as she stared through the monocular shaking her head.

“I was bored.” replied the gruff voice as he stepped out of a shadow beside Fran, shimmering into existence with a nonchalant shrug.
“Idiot. You sent them right to the Praetor and I can’t hear a damn thing.” She snarled.

“Good, perhaps they’ll be too busy with security in here to sneak parts out of the camp.” Elijah muttered.

“Like hell, they’ll think its some crap of the sort. Where’s Cup?” she asked noticing only the faint outline of one of the drones. Shimmering next to Elijah.

“That is Cup, Saucer is still back at the hotel, they’re both reporting slight problems with their Thermoptics.” Elijah replied with a shrug. “Saucer’s was less-so, so I’ve left her to keep an eye on the others while I came to you, its about time we started heading back anyhow, I believe it’s Alice and Carl’s shift next.”

“Hmm. Guess so. I can hear bugger all from that lot anyhow. Wonder if its this heat that’s screwing slightly with the thermoptics.” Fran mused to herself as she turned, Elijah merely grunted, not interested in the techno babble and merely followed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saucer floated around with a bored bleep. Coming to rest at the window of Chris’ room she merely peered at the small black object which sat in the middle of the room.
“Huh?” it floated closer and bumped on the glass, then a small whine emitted from it and it flickered into view, but didn’t disappear again.

The Thermoptics had failed.

When Steven barged into the chambers, Erik was somewhat frightened to see a weapon pointed directly at his fellow doctor's chest. Luckily, it went without violence and he just remained quiet as he listened to the others talk. Although he had gotten the memo of the people being generally war-oriented, he had, for the most part, been recieved most warmly without threats from the Akeldama themselves. However this new threat was quite strange and...haunting...

*************************************************

Once Chris walked into his room and locked the door, he passed by XR and fell onto his chair for a light nap...he needed one, badly.

Yet as his drunkeness gave way to a large hangover, he woke up about an hour later and sat down on his desk chair, brooding over the events that unfolded a bit over an hour ago, through the hazy fog from his drunken stupor. He couldn't remember everything but he remembered lots of crying- hence why his eyes felt dry and red.

He sighed as he did remember Sun telling him if he wished to speak with her...to call her. But did he want to? The woman who took him for granted, who dashed his dreams, who told him she loved him but left when he professed his own love. Was this what he wanted? He could do away with it all now...

That's what he did with them...

A devilish sneer crossed his face for a minute before he realized that he could not do anything to harm her. She had told him that he was her best friend. Did she still think him as that? Did she still want him as a friend? He began searching through his address book for her cell, despite the fact he knew her number by heart and was about to press the talk button when he stopped. What if she didn't want to talk to me? What if she hates me? A frown crossed his face and he set his elbows on the table and lay his forehead on that.

Suddenly, a loud thump brought Chris' attention into the real world and he immediately looked at the strange round probe. "What in blazes?" he asked, more stupified then anything, believing it was still the affects of alcohol in his system. He walked up to his window and opened it hastily and stared at it. "What in blazes?" he repeated.

“Aye, m’lady,” Fithos replied to Sun, nodding to himself. He turned, breathing in the enormity of a decision he had made long ago, and yet still had not revealed. Soon… he thought, closing his eyes to his world. Soon ‘my people’ will mean so much…more…

“Praetor de Luroth,” Steven said, walking up to the Praetor. He went around to the man’s front to look him in the eye. “I have not told those who matter. A believer in sovereignty, I have come to you first.”

“And I thank you for it, Dr. Bradford,” Fithos said. “But you must understand…the situation is at hand is far too delicate for a foreigner to grasp.”

“Excuse me?” Steven asked, bolder than he ever had been before. A year ago he was a weakling scientist; now he was standing up to kings. Fithos sighed.

“As we speak,” the Praetor admitted. “My death is being plotted.” He shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry you had to come at such a time. Deception here runs thick.”

“The man in metal?” Steven questioned, his tone dropping from one of resentment to concern.

“Shadows and ghosts are neigh my concern,” Fithos replied. “My enemies are far more visible.”

“These ‘shadows’ are more our concern,” Steven said, frowning as he admitted. “He may have been watching us as well.”

“Then let us fight our own enemies perhaps?” the Praetor suggested.

“With your world as the common battleground?” Steven asked.

“My world will soon be nothing more than a battleground,” Fithos sighed once more. By now, the Praetor’s blatant foreshadowing had become far too much for Steven to bear. By now, Gabranth’s mission weighed far too heavily on his mind.

“And with what weapon will you fight these enemies?” Steven asked, a bit too direct for his own tastes; however, he could think of no other way.

“Now’s not the time for revelations,” Fithos replied. “Nor are you the person for such to be revealed to. It will become blatantly clear in time.”

“So we are here, with two enemies against us and unknowing of the weapon you chose to wield?” Steven asked, a feeling of uselessness creeping into his voice.

“You are but scientists,” Fithos replied. It was obvious that his intentions were now for them to leave. “Such talk is best left for leaders.”

Steven scowled, turning from the Praetor and looking at those who had arrived with him. Perhaps some were simply scientists; perhaps he was at a time, but for the first moment since the first mention of Akeldama, Steven embraced what he had since pushed away. Being only a scientist was an innocence he was no longer allowed, and Steven left the Praetor’s office without a word, his rookie reconnaissance far from over.

“A man?” Captain Ramza Gabranth asked, his face looking worried over the visual comm.

“Aye,” Dr. Ernest Puzo replied, “At least he appeared as such. Although more metal than man from what we could see.”

“Out of thin air, you say?” Gabranth asked, scratching the side of his face.

“And back into it just as quickly,” Ernest responded, growing angry. Gabranth quickly realized the situation under which they were talking.

“Where is my brother?” the Captain asked.

“With the Praetor,” Ernest replied. “He figured it was more important to tell him than you.” Gabranth sat back in his chair, understanding that importance was most likely not Steven’s deciding factor. Perhaps his brother was beginning to understand his true role in all this, after all. Ernest, however, was devoid of such revelations. “There’s more emotional baggage and ridiculous intrigue here than science,” Dr. Puzo muttered.

“Science was never the goal,” Gabranth replied. Now, it was Ernest who was intrigued, and he cast aside any anger he had held in place of captivation.

“It seems my book just got better,” Ernest said, giving the Captain his full attention. “What then, was this ‘goal?’”

“You stick to your observations,” Gabranth ordered. He shook his head. “I need your mind to be open, and your vision clear. If Steven is my tool, I’m afraid that he will be blinded by his trade. I need you to be the craftsman…the final picture in mind.”

“It would help if I had the…blueprints, then,” Ernest said. Gabranth agreed, and told Dr. Puzo of the suspected superweapon, and the concern with the Laeroxians. He then ordered the author to refrain from telling Steven of his knowledge. Still, Ernest had a question. “And you don’t feel bad…using your brother like this?”

“My feelings don’t matter,” Gabranth admitted. “In the end, I’m no more than he…a tool. We’re all of the Empire.” He looked at the author before him, unsure of what all the man understood. "But I must be off...for I have quite a meeting to attend to..."

“That woman that I saw,” Sun said, turning to a different matter, or rather different approach to the same matter. “The one with the tears and bruised cheek,” she brought her hand up to her own cheek, flawless, perfect; just like those haunting cerulean eyes. She saw the reaction in his eyes. “And if this man should kill her, would you mourn? Would you feel anything? Could you honestly bear the weight of her death on your shoulders with your head held high knowing that you could have done something to prevent it,” she had walked past Steven and from the back of the group which she had remained. “There is not one reason not to think that the man we saw could be after either party. If he had technology as what we saw, there is no way in hell that any of us could have survived if he wanted us dead.” She shook her head. “I don’t think the targets are us per say. It could be either, it could be both.” She walked forward, and it was only then that she took in the scenery out of her peripheral vision. She found the diamonds on her cross which shown plainly to be much more exquisite than so many. A little of perfection is better than a lot of flawed gems. There was soul that went into the making of that necklace for her ordination as a priestess

“And if they are merely watching, are you afraid what might be recorded?” her eyes glinted like the diamonds in her cross. “There are moments which everyone has that no one wants anyone to see, let alone the public, and with an editing job it wouldn’t be hard to misconstrue a great deal of situations. If someone is trying to destroy you, what better way to do it. Since he didn’t kill us, I assume he was merely observing, but he showed himself to us. He wanted us to see him. Perhaps he knew that we could come to you, or that you would find out about it. Perhaps he was trying to let you know that he has already gotten what he came for, or that maybe he is coming for it,” she said. She was well spoken; very well spoken. Her articulation was commendable, especially for a Russian. She was the type of woman who could command respect easily, but she doubted that she would find it here, not with this bastard. “If your image is destroyed in the eyes of the people, a leader has no one to follow. Take into consideration…strongly into your consideration that this might be your problem entirely, and not ours.”

Fithos glared at the mouthy woman before him, fighting any instinct he may have had towards physical violence. Dr. Bradford had left the room in a rage, and yet this other scientist had not taken the cue. The Praetor had something more important to attend to, and this woman, of all things, was standing in his way.

“As one so obviously concerned with appearances,” Fithos snarled. “I would expect such shallow talk from such pretty lips. However, your concern is unwarranted. My enemy is quite real, quite visible, and quite close.” He walked towards the door, with guards appearing to escort any lingering foreigners out of his office. “Your ignorance towards our culture is upsetting at best. Did you ever think that perhaps ours was superior? After all…we don’t have this kind of feminine insolence.”

With that, the Praetor quickly left, his guards close behind.

“You ask of me what I cannot give,” Xu said, turning her back on the Viceroy. Enraged at the disrespect, Vinosec Gantatilion grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around.

“You will give what I command!” Vinosec roared. Xu did not back down.

“Even if I knew of what you wanted,” she replied, her voice little more than a whisper. “I would not…tell…you.”

Vinosec did not slap her as many an Akeldama man did to his wife, mother, or sister. Xu was none of these things to the Viceroy. Instead he shoved her, hard, into a table which she had just set. The force of the blow knocked over the table, as food and silverwear flew through the air. Xu collapsed on the floor in tears.

“Now tell me,” Gantatilion demanded, reaching down and holding her face by wrapping his hand backwards around her chin. “What does Fithos have planned?”

“I…I don’t know,” Xu whimpered, her tone much less defiant and far more pleading. “I swear.” Vinosec forcefully let go of her face, stepping back, only to hit her again.

“You know he’s going to kill us all,” the Viceroy told her, pacing about the room. “He’s going to attack the Empire, provoking them into battle.”

“I know none of that,” Xu replied. “What proof do you have?”

“The support of the governors and the armies,” Vinosec snarled in response.

“So you will stage a coup?” Xu asked, brushing food off her dress as she winced in pain.

“I will do whatever it takes to protect my people from the wolves,” the Viceroy replied. “I will not throw my people to them as your future husband plans.” He paused, staring down at Xu. “I ask one last time,” Vinosec said, kneeling down to her level. “What do you know of his plans?”

Xu stared at the man who had beaten her as he asked her to betray another who treated her the same. They were all the same, men of this world, all plotting and hating each other. Women were the only thing they agreed on, women and war. Still, for Gantatilion to think that Fithos had shared any plans with her, his fiancée, was ridiculous. She was, after all, but a woman in a world of men.

“I know no more of his plans than you,” Xu said. “My allegiance is to Akeldama itself, not its Viceroy, its governors, nor even its Praetor. Akeldama has no secrets. Men do.”

“Then you share the same fate as your lover,” Vinosec spat, reaching for his weapon, as Steven burst into the room.

Steven’s intentions were to talk to Xu, and he was not expecting to see the Viceroy present. However better the Viceroy would have been to talk to, though, was dismissed by the fact that the Praetor’s fiancée was now lying in a mess on the floor, the Viceroy being the only other person there.

“Get out,” Vinosec snarled, pulling out his gun and aiming it again at Steven’s head instead of his original target.

“What did you do to her?” Steven asked, pointing at Xu on the floor.

“It is not your concern!” the Viceroy roared, cocking the hammer back on his pistol with his thumb. “You will leave at once!”

“Your Praetor speaks of enemies and war!” Steven shouted. “Or does that not concern me either?”

“War?” Viceroy Gantatilion asked, cocking his head to the side to look the scientist in the eyes and not over the sights of a gun.

“Yes, war,” Steven replied, staring past the gun into the eyes of the Viceroy. “With Akeldama as the battleground.”

“The guards will escort you out,” Vinosec said, his priorities instantly shifting away from the scientist. His pistol returned to its holster. “I have much now to attend to.” As the Viceroy left, Steven ran to the fallen woman.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, wrapping one arm around Xu’s upper back and another under her knees, helping her to her feet.

“Yes,” Xu said, looking at the face of the man who had unknowing saved her life. “But that matters little now. If Fithos speaks of war…his war is with you…and your Empire.”

“He plans to fight the Empire?” Steven asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “He will lose…”

“Perhaps,” Xu replied. “And yet he is meeting now aboard your ship, with your Captain.”

Steven froze, remembering that Fithos had mentioned something about a tour of the Sentinel. His heart raced, his mind spinning. Instinctively, he ran to the Praetor’s office, only to find it empty. Fithos was with Gabranth now, Steven realized. His brother was at the mercy of their would-be enemy.

“Which is why you will ultimately fail!” Sun called out after him with a slight smile on her face. She didn’t know why she was following, but she would trail him. She would love to see the empress fight against the praetor. When she had seen the empress, she was astonished. She had heard the rumors but…that’s why she joined the temple. His words of her beauty didn’t make her blush; not like Simon did. They made her angry. She, Erik, and James were escorted out…but she broke away from them. She couldn’t be detected at least, other than sight. She needed to tell Simon, but what? That this man was a pompous asshole who needed a good beating? No, not yet, but she felt it coming. She was happy. She laughed. Why had he made her feel so good? She felt like she could fly. I’ve completely lost myself and I don’t mind… she laughed and leaned up against a wall.

She observed Steven with the woman that had been crying, and smiled at them, mostly looking at the woman. Her expression darkened, and she simply looked at her with eyes that seemed to pierce the soul.

Erik let himself be walked out, surprised at the outburst of the one known only as Sun, the woman from Chris' tapes. Why he stayed, he wasn't quite sure, but perhaps just to watch what the fiery woman had to say. Is she...losing it? We don't want to lose our favor- whatever favor we have left- with the Akeldama! he thought to himself. Luckily, they were all shuffled out of the chambers and into the lobby where Steven was with a woman that looked a bit beaten from a scuffle perhaps? The one that had walked out of the Praetor's chambers...

"My lady, are you alright?" he asked quickly, not wanting to get too close to her incase guards swarmed him. He turned a bit as he noticed some noise nearby.

There was also Sun laughing as she leaned against the wall. He carefully approached her and studied her briefly with a doctor's careful scanning. "Are you alright, ma'am?" He then brushed off his shirt and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Doctor Erik Mussein." He brought his hand out to shake hers in a friendly handshake.

Aboard the Sentinel
Above the planet Akeldama

Praetor Fithos de Luroth marveled at the technology around him. He had only seen such design and power in his dreams, and even they fell short of the Sentinel’s prowess. Captain Ramza Gabranth had led him throughout the ship, talking a meaningless chatter, but now they were on the bridge, with Fithos staring down on the sandy planet he ruled over.

“I did not imagine it so massive,” Fithos admitted, a bright smile coming to his face.

“She’s not even the biggest ship in our fleet,” Gabranth told him, partially bragging, partially being honest. The Praetor was wowed by his revelation, but something else the Captain had said caught his ear more.

“She?” Fithos asked, intrigued. “You refer to your warships as women?”

“Any ship for that matter,” Gabranth said, shrugging. “To be honest I can’t explain it myself. The tradition exists far beyond the Empire, however.”

“Seems somewhat contradictory,” Fithos replied. “A powerful ship...being called a woman…”

“It’s more about the connection a captain has with his ship, I’d assume,” Gabranth said. He chuckled to himself. “Apparently you haven’t angered many a woman if you find them docile.”

“Our women mostly know the correct reaction,” Fithos said, his mind drifting to Xu. She certainly didn’t, but that would be changed, in time. The Praetor laughed. “You could stand to learn a lot from us.”

“I doubt our women would agree,” Gabranth chuckled in response. Fithos shrugged.

“That’s your problem, Imperial,” Fithos said. “Once you give rights…you can’t just take them away. However, if there are no rights in the first place…”

“Like the Laeroxians?” Gabranth asked, interrupting.

“Careful, Captain,” Fithos warned. “Are you sure you want to go down that road?”

“I’m merely asking questions,” Gabranth said, guarding himself. “I’m not judging your culture.”

“Ah,” Fithos replied, his smile growing larger. “Come with me, Captain,” the Praetor said, leading Gabranth to his own ready room. This would not be a conversation for the bridge crew of the Sentinel to hear.

“Yes?” Gabranth asked, following Fithos to his own desk. The door quickly shut behind him. Fithos sat in the chair for a visitor, motioning for Gabranth to sit in the Captain’s usual spot behind his desk. Gabranth did so, interested.

“‘Ram-za Ga-branth,’” Fithos slowly said aloud, as if feeling the words out on this tongue. “Not your John, or Smith, or Fred, or Brown, is it?”

“It’s Estharian,” Gabranth said, referring to the planet Esthar VIII, the eighth planetary government founded in the Empire. The Captain had adopted it as his homeworld. “And it’s not my given name…”

“Ah,” Fithos said once more. “And why the change?”

“My previous name no longer reflected who I was,” Gabranth said, deeply hoping that this wasn’t what the Praetor wanted to discuss. It was hardly important.

“So you adapted to your situation?” Fithos asked. Gabranth simply nodded in reply. The Praetor, however, pressed on. “I come to you…to the Empire…seeking alliance.” Instantly, Gabranth’s ears perked up.

“We had hoped,” the Captain replied. “However, as I alluded to, we have reservations because of the…”

“Not for the Akeldama,” Fithos interrupted. Gabranth looked at him oddly. “For the Laeroxians.”

“But…” Gabranth managed to say before he found himself at a loss for words, utterly confused. “You’re Praetor of the Akeldama are you not?” finally he managed to spit out.

“For the time being,” Fithos replied. “Although I fear not for much longer. My people conspire against me.”

“And the Laeroxians?” Gabranth asked. “You want us to ally with your slaves?”

“We’re a race of warriors, Captain,” Fithos said, not answering Gabranth’s question. “We enslave three-forths of our population and yet we complain of not having enough men for battle, and not enough women for our men.” Fithos paused, trying to judge Gabranth’s reaction. “The Laeroxians bear only a difference in skin, and yet we persist in making the difference far deeper, only fueling the hate and animosity between us all. Well...that's all about to change..."

“You plan to unite the races?” Gabranth asked, literally sitting on the edge of his seat.

“At one time, yes,” Fithos replied. “But I soon realized that it wasn’t the Laeroxians standing in the way of unity…it was the Akeldama.”

“But you’re…?”

“Akeldama?” Fithos asked, finishing the Captain’s question. “Yes…but the Laeroxians do not have leaders. Laeroxian leaders are killed for that very reason. In me they have found a way out of slavery.”

“A deal with the devil?” Gabranth asked.

“Precisely,” Fithos smiled.

“And you would betray your own people?” Gabranth asked. He had seen this before. The Vespian known as “Fred” had tried to betray his own people, making a deal with the Imperials. Fred ended up dead, as did the Imperial he dealt with. Gabranth did no desire a similar fate for the Praetor, and most certainly not for himself.

“They would just as quickly betray me,” Fithos snapped, instantly fuming with anger. “And why? Because I have not fought? Because I’ve been cursed with peace?”

“I’m not sure the Empire will aid in your resistance,” Gabranth said. He was mildly in shock. “I’m not sure I even have the authority to discuss this with you.”

“Your Emperor had his own war against the establishment a mere decade ago,” Fithos said. “I watched it through my predecessor’s eyes.”

“But this is not our concern,” Gabranth said.

“If Viceroy Gantatilion has his way,” Fithos replied. “It will be…”

Gabranth glared into the Praetor’s eyes across from his, thoughts of “superweapons” flashing through his mind. The Viceroy would attack the Empire, Gabranth thought, totally unaware that down on the planet, his brother thought the same about the Praetor.

Xu stared up at the foreign woman standing near her, having heard her yell at the Praetor with little concern or worry. After all, what did that woman have to worry about? Xu felt jealous and weak at the same time, and instinctively grabbed onto Steven for support.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” a man asked. Xu looked up at him with hesitation, her arms still around Dr. Bradford. “I’m sorry,” the man said, extending a hand. “But I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Dr. Erik Mussein.”

“I’m Xu Ocariot,” Xu replied, not taking the hand, however. Realizing what she was doing, she eased her grip on Steven. A long glance between the two of them led to her letting go of him. Xu turned her attention back to Erik. “I…I should be fine. Just bruises I’m sure.” She sighed, looking at Steven. “But we don’t have time for this. If Fithos attacks the Empire we’ll be destroyed…I…I can’t let that happen.”

“Um, you can see me?” squeaked the drone.
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. I can't contact them. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” Its eyes blinked and twinkled a little as it tried to figure something out, it had basically just blown the mission by being seen completely as opposed to the fleeting glances previously.
“Could I come in?” it asked with another blink.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Saucer? Come in. Come in dammit!" Elijah shook his head. "Oh hell."
"What?" muttered Fran as they moved back to the speeder, it was just around the corner from where they were as they walked down the street.
"She's not responding, get to the speeder and keep it secure, I'll go find her. She'll probably still be at the Hotel. God knows if it'll be any quieter after all this hoo-har." And with that, Fran was left on her own with only a childish drone for company. Elijah had vanished into the dust.

"You were foolish for what you did," Mike said to Alfonso, who laid on the bed, every muscle, bone, and ligament aching tremendously. "In fact, you were lucky she didn't deliver a knee to the testicles like you baited her to. You know better to drink like this now..."

"Mike, I don't need your lecturing. I know damn well what I did was unnecessary and impulsive, but women like her boil my blood. Self-centered, vicious, uncaring..." Alfonso trailed off.

"That doesn't matter. Your actions were unjustified, inappropriate, and inciting. We are here for science, Al, remember that. You were the one who dragged me to this damn planet, so you damn well better behave like a man. First of all," Mike said, before Alfonso abruptly interrupted him.

"Wait a minute here," Alfonso said, "you're lecturing me how to be a man? Jesus Christ, Mike, you're the most unmanly man I've ever encountered. Hell, when was the last time you talked to a woman? Even if they're beating the shit out of me, at least I have the gall to speak to them. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Mike struggled for words, but dropped his shoulders in exasperation. His eyes were sunken, his face pale. The sickness was twisting inside him once more. "Do what you want, man. Accept the repercussions of your own actions, but don't drag me into them. Do that, and I'll leave you the hell alone as you so desire." Mike stood up from the bed and exited the room.

He walked down the hallway, searching for Sun and Simon's room. Even if Alfonso was going to be a stubborn prick, that didn't mean he had to be. How Alfonso had acted was unacceptable; it was an embarrassment to the two other New Genoans on Akeldama.

When he arrived at their room number, he knocked on the door. "Hello, is anyone there? This is Mike Stanley, Alfonso Anderson's friend. I'd like to personally apologize for my friend's actions."

Simon appeared behind him, looking slightly guilty and carrying a tray, upon which were stacked several pots and pans and a hotplate. His eyes shifting around for a moment, he turned to Mike. "Here, can you hold this for a moment?" he said, handing the tray to the man and hurriedly unlocking his door. Opening it up, he took the tray back, shot Mike a quick smile of thanks, and stepped backwards through the door, setting the tray down on a counter before turning his full attention to Mike. "Please, come in," he said, beckoning for the other man to enter and shutting the door behind him.

When he shifted his mind to the subject of Mike's visit, though, his face darkened for a moment. "I don't blame you for his actions," he said. "I saw that your other friend even tried to stop him, and so I don't blame you for what he did. Your choice in friends, though ... well, I can't say if I agree with that."

Chris stood, too stunned to really do much. What isthis thing? he thought to himself. He knew it had gears, he could hear motors...but...he didn't think such AI was allowed around here. It certainly seemed like it could converse...

"Contact? Contact who? What?" He was asked if he-she-it could come in. I am dreaming...or hallucinating... "I'll let you in...if you...if you don't touch anything..."

A bewildered Chris opened up his door again and walked in, still unsure if to believe what this thing is or was...

“Um, Contact Mr. Christchurch, oops! You’re not meant to know…”
Its motor whined a little as it drifted into the room.
“Right, not touch, not touch. Oh. Hello.” it looked at XR and tilted itself to one side. “What’s your name?”

When the bot merely reversed a little Saucer bobbed its head to the other side.
“Huh, no speech? Must be kind of frustrating not being able to talk to people. Oh well.” it span its top half around and looked at Chris. “Hey, I remember you, you were on Vespia too! Oops. I did it again.” she muttered and span her head around a couple of times in frustration, the heat was evidently playing with her circuits enough to make her careless and talkative.

"Mr.Christchurch?" Chris asked. Is that a code name? Does it mean the 'Church'? What is wrong with this...this...thing? He watched, yet to get out of his shock as the thing communicated-or tried to communicate with XR.

The scientist sat down on his bed, his eyes wide as he observed the interaction and the babbling orb-like robot. Then it hit him, it look exactly like the thing that was outside...with that other orb with the red square...

He suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as the orb once again spoke to him. "Huh-oh...yeah...I was on Vespia...What? What did you do again? You are making no sense! What are you...you are an illusion...from my own hungover head," Chris said, trying to assure himself as he got up and walked to the medicine cabinet, pulling out a few bottles of tablets and pills and turning on the fossit. "I won't drink so much next time...no more alcohol..."

"Me? Um, I watch, mostly. And fight, I do that pretty well too." The drone tilted to the side puzzled at the alcohol comment.

"Actually the numbers I crunched shows that you're completely free of the inhibitions of alcohol, well, aside from the pounding headache that is." its eyes brightened for a moment as it floated up a little. "Ya! I was on Vespia, pretty much doing the same as I am now. Watching. And waiting. Mostly waiting."

--------------------------------

Elijah walked back into the hotel, Thermoptics shrouding him from the power-armour wearing soldiers, with a non challent shrug he began moving up the first flight of steps, with a gentle hiss he hit a button on his metal ear-peice. "Saucer! Saucer where are you?" he hissed, the short-range emergency backup radio should surely still work.

"What? What?" Chris began, not sure what to do. Was this thing for real?

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Chris asked as he raised four fingers. He carefully walked up to the thing and waved his hand with the three fingers in front of it. With his other hand, he gently poked the thing, confirming it was indeed rea.

"What exactly were you waiting for on Vespia?" Chris asked, still a bit puzzled.

"Um, people. I can't remember." it squeaked as it tilted its head the other way, squeaking a little as it was poked.
“Why can't you remember?" Chris asked, still waving his fingers in front of the drone, and giving a light chuckle as it squeaked.
"Um.... I dunno." It's eyes seemed to dull as if in concentration. "Ohh! Mr Christchurch! HALLO!" it squeaked and spun around a little. "Um, I'm, Um, well, in a room, with one of the people we were watching." It then seemed to jump a little and spin around with frustration. "But... But."
"What-what are you doing? Who are you talking to?" Chris asked, walking away slowly, being careful not to trip over the ever-watching XR. "Quiet down! Who knows what...who'll come in...if the Empire sees you, they'll probably try to kill me and destroy you...if you are real...Unless-wait, unless you are actually a human brain in a probe?"
“Ummm, No, I’m definitely only made of computer chips. Least that’s what Fran tells me.” it bounced a little. “But Mr. Christchurch is now coming. He’ll explain.”
"Who? What? What's going on?" Chris growled, getting more annoyed with the lackluster answers and the pounding headache as he walked away from the door. "Who is Christchurch? Who is Fran?"
“I Am Christchurch.” spoke a voice. “And I’d like it if you didn’t freak out and call for guards.” At which point Chris’ door opened and all that could be heard was a couple of clanks, than just as suddenly the door snapped shut as if from a breath of air. With a shimmer the cloak merely snapped off and the man appeared out of thin air, his whole face and head exposed, showing brown hair on his left hand side of his face, and, while not handsome, the half made of flesh wouldn’t shatter a mirror from a distance. The rest was an assortment of metal, a red eye which glowed gently, and a studded piece of metal for an ear, from which the eye piece was mounted.

"What in blazes? How'd-?" Chris sputtered, nearly falling onto his bed. He instead fell into his chair and stared at the new man walking in. He seemed the perfect meld between man and machine, at least physically. Whether it did any damage to the mind Chris could not tell as the man could speak clearly already but there was not enough information to come to a decision on that.
“What are you? Are you fully robotic too?” Chris asked, slowly recovering from his second shock of the day. His eyes scanned the man’s face and rested on his red eye. It was so familiar… “You were here earlier, weren’t’t you?”

“I was here earlier, yes, only briefly. This little ball of bolts has dragged me back. No, I’m not a robot, I’m partly cyberized, rather crudely, as a result of a terrible accident on our ship, its why I’m like this now.” he grinned a little. “Elijah Christchurch, at your service.” he extended his right arm, which itself was made of metal, it whined a little as the hand formed to a shake.

"Crudely? Does not show it physically..." Chris replied as he reluctantly shook the man's hand, examining it as he did so. "Does it hurt at all? Is it cumbersome? Did it hurt to have it done?"

Chris had a plethora of questions to ask, his surprise seeming to be nearly gone. But he stopped himself, deciding that the mechanized man would rather take his robot and leave. "I am Chris...Chris Avestastar by the way..."

“I know.” he replied with a slight laugh, then looked at his arm a little. “No, I was under for the whole operation, really hurt when the accident happened though, I might tell you about it some time. But I have to get this,” he said tapping the drone, “back to the rest of them and fix her up.”

“Mind,” he said thoughtfully, “If you’re interested as to why we’re watching you and what we do, you might want to go and wait in the bar for an hour. Somebody will talk to you, just don’t get too creeped out by him.” he snorted.

Chris' eyes lightened up as his questions he asked earlier may be answered should he show up to the bar...again. "Alright... And why is he creepy?" Chris asked before the man could get out of the door. These people certainly intrigued him. They were unhampered by the strange laws of the Empire and let technology run abound it seemed.

"How do I know I can trust you guys?"

“He, how to put it. Gets into your head.” Elijah chuckled a little. “To be honest, you don’t, but I saw the videos on that little gadget of yours,” he nodded at XR, “I know you can look after yourself enough.”

Chris gave off a slight grin and his cheeks turned the barest hint of red as the secrets he kept in XR were watched by those he never even knew about. But how did they get to watching it? "Alright...as long as you guys don't buy me too many drinks...I feel horrible today..."

Elijah laughed and grinned, then took a smaller cloak out of his pocket. “We wont.” He grinned again before throwing the cloak over the drone. “Depends on how freaked out by Carl you’ll be, he’ll be wearing a tan trench-coat and will be sitting at the bar. You’ll know what to order him when you get there.” he smirked. “See you later Chris.” he said before vanishing, the door opening and closing.

Chris sat unmoving, watching the door as they left, unblinking. As of yet, the day has been non-stop excitement and little time for rest. "No rest for the weary I suppose..." Chris said quietly to himself, glancing down at XR. Just what movies did he have in there?

Mike entered the room.

"It's just that..." Mike hesitated. "He's had a variety of personal problems he isn't willing to deal with. I can empathize with him...but that didn't justify his actions. To be fair, he's not a bad person...he's just been under the influence of alcohol more than usual. He's also been in similar situations with women. He was a powder keg waiting to explode. Still, I know that doesn't justify his actions in anyway whatsoever, but hopefully you can empathize with the type of situation he's currently in. I know I can." Mike's eyes sunk at those final words.

Praetor Fithos de Luroth sat between a guard to his rear and the pilot to his front. The Sentinel’s shuttle was cool, with the internal climate much more in favor of Imperial standards than those of the Akeldama. Fithos did shiver from the temperature, but the chill running down his spine was unrelated.

His meeting with the Imperial Captain had gone well, by all accounts. The Empire now knew where he stood, where his people stood. Fithos scratched his chin in thought, wondering if “his people” now meant that Laeroxians and not the Akeldama. If it didn’t now, shortly there would be no question.

“I need to relieve myself,” Fithos announced, turning to face the guard standing behind him. Behind his mask, the guard rolled his eyes. It would only be ten more minutes until they landed, and the man could surely hold whatever it was he had to do. However, Fithos was not merely a man, and the guard thought it wise to not deny him his request.

“This way,” the guard said, pointing to the back of the shuttle with his rifle.

“I’m afraid that although we speak your language with ease,” Fithos replied. “Written it is far different.” The Praetor gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I’m embarrassed to say I would know where to find the restroom, or even how to operate it on a ship like this.”

“Fine,” the guard grunted, stepping in front of the Praetor and leading the way back through the narrow corridor towards the restroom. However, the Praetor did not follow.

By the time the guard realized the simple and pitiful deception for which he had fallen, he was already electronically locked out of the bridge. Instantly he alerted the pilot, who was not wearing ODIN armor, over the comm, but the Praetor struck fast, slamming the pilot’s head off the console and throwing him back onto the floor.

As blood gushed from the pilot’s nose, Fithos grabbed the man’s hand and lifted it into the air, placing his own boot on the pilot’s throat. With a swift pull and a quick kick, the Praetor snapped the pilot’s neck, leaving him in a heap behind the pilot’s seat.

The guard, meanwhile, was still locked in the rear corridor. He pounded on the door, even trying to shoot it open, but his efforts were sorely in vain. The doors had been designed to keep intruders like the Praetor from interfering with the flight plan. Only the pilot knew the keycode override. The guard tried to establish a comm with the Sentinel, but the Praetor easily shut off the link from the user-friendly console he was now sitting in front of.

Fithos did not pretend to know how to fly such an advanced vessel, but for once, such an inadequacy would serve him well. After all, their landing needed to look far more like a crash than a landing. The Praetor wondered, as he strapped himself into the pilot’s emergency parachute, if the guard in the back would survive the crash. Then again, death did have its benefits.

Steven, James, Sun, Erik, and Xu had just stepped out of the Praetorian Palace when a fireball fell from the heavens, lighting the sky before them, and passing off somewhere over the horizon, deep in the Laeroxian desert. Suddenly, immersed in their infatuation with what did not appear to be a comet, the lot of them failed to notice Ernest running up to meet them.

“Steven!” Dr. Puzo shouted, running up to the man he called. Steven turned, looking at the exhausted Ernest, surprised.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Steven said. Ernest leaned over, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Physical activity was hardly his forte in normal gravity, let alone on Akeldama.

“There are troop movements,” Ernest gasped, shaking his head. “In the city. I saw them from our window.” Steven abruptly turned to Xu.

“Fithos?” he asked. Xu shook her head.

“The Viceroy,” she replied. “He controls the armies…and Fithos is off-world.”

“Perhaps not,” Steven responded, pointing to where the fireball had vanished over the horizon. Xu followed his finger, knowing what Steven implied.

“There’s something I should tell you,” she admitted, staring out into the desert. “Fithos has been talking to the Laeroxians a lot lately. I don’t know what his dealings are…but I know he keeps them quiet.”

“The slaves?” Ernest asked.

“The ship-builders,” Xu replied, correcting him. “They make our starships. They make our weapons. If Fithos wants to attack the Empire, and the Viceroy is mobilizing a coup, then Fithos needs weapons.”

“He needs soldiers as well,” Steven said, referring to the Laeroxians. “Or are you ‘above that?’”

“Vinosec is,” Xu admitted. “Most of Akeldama is. However,” she paused thinking to herself. “Fithos has stood up for them in the past. It’s possible that…”

“We really shouldn’t be saying this out in the open,” Steven whispered, cutting her off as two armed Akeldama guards ran past them on the street below.

“The hotel?” Ernest asked, confused as to why someone was talking of attacking the Empire. He figured, however, that questions would be better left for a later time.

“If they’re attacking the Empire,” Steven figured. “The hotel could be an easy target.”

“The Akeldama army has probably marched past there by now,” Ernest replied. “It’ll be under their watch. We shouldn’t go.”

“No,” Steven disagreed. “If the army is run by the Viceroy, that’s exactly where we should go.” He looked at Xu and frowned. “We should go as far away from Fithos as possible.”

Xu stared back at the scientist who was rather attractive but also rather weak. A man of his stature would never make it on Akeldama, and yet there was a strength in his demeanor, albeit a blind one, that could rival a warrior’s. She did not frown in reply, merely nodding her head, and letting him lead the way back.

Steven hastily rummaged through his stuff in his room, repacking everything he had previously taken out. He threw his clothes messily into his suitcase and his equipment into his containers, wanting to be ready to leave at any moment. The lot of them had returned from the Praetorian Palace moments ago. Soon, Gabranth needed to be contacted. The Captain’s previous suspicions had now become a reality.

“You planning to leave?” Ernest asked, stepping into their room.

“Just making sure I’m able to,” Steven replied, zipping up his suitcase, his clothes now wrinkled inside.

“Not worried about the job anymore?” Ernest asked, knowing that Steven couldn’t possibly realize what he was actually referring to.

“I think we’ve observed enough,” Steven said, lifting his suitcase off the dresser and dropping it down beside his metal containers.

“I don’t think we’ve observed anything…” Ernest muttered, shaking his head.

“You gonna write that in your book?” Steven snapped, glaring at his roommate.

“Yeah,” Ernest replied, defiantly. “I think I will.” He looked on as Steven fumbled about the room, checking for anything he may have left behind. “I think this whole mission is bullshit.” That, at least, got Steven’s full attention.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Bradford asked, rounding on the author.

“What science have you done?” Ernest asked. “I read your damn book on Vespia. You ran tests. You took samples. You made observations. What have you done here?”

“The Praetor…” Steven began, but Ernest cut him off. Steven had responded exactly how Ernest thought he would.

“Exactly!” Dr. Puzo exclaimed, extending his arms in dramatic fashion. “This mission is a sham…nothing more than a thin veil. There’s no science here.” Ernest thought of Sun, Chris, and Simon. “There’s no need for a chemist...no need for a biologist even,” Ernest said, referring to Sun and Steven himself.

”We fear that they might try to gain respect by attacking the Empire,” Gabranth had said. Steven shook his head. This had never been about the science. Ernest was right; his team was little more than a mask, and a poor one at that.

“All you’re doing is getting involved in the politics of a planet that we don’t understand, and not only that, a planet that is heading to civil war in front of our eyes!” Ernest exclaimed, but Steven was distracted, looking out the open door into the hallway. Dr. Puzo followed the gaze of his roommate, seeing Xu standing outside the door, talking to an Imperial soldier. Ernest glared at Steven. “Far too involved…”

“I just do what I’m told,” Steven said, not wanting to talk about it any longer.

“Hell of a leader you are,” Ernest muttered, turning away. He paused for a second, thinking to himself, before turning back. “Have you ever even wondered why you’re being forced to do this? Have you ever even asked?”

Ernest didn’t expect a real response. After all, Steven didn’t know that Ernest knew what he did. Steven didn’t know that Ernest knew the truth. Still, Ernest expected to at least inspire some form of thought, some sort of reflection in Steven that would scare him into thinking.

What real motive did the Empire have? The Akeldama were nothing compared to the Imperial might, and if the Emperor himself thought the Akeldama possessed a superweapon, all of Orion could simply smite Akeldama in one foul swipe. No, Ernest told himself, “superweapons” were not the Empire’s concern. Ernest half suspected the entire concept to be a fraud.

He expected it from the moment Captain Gabranth had told him of the situation. Gabranth has been so flippant about Imperial secrets, so careless about revealing them to him, a mere author, than Ernest could only assume the true intentions laid somewhere else. He assumed it involved the Laeroxians as well, for why else give Steven a second secondary mission, unless the first was not wielding the desired results?

Steven was stuck. He saw what Ernest suspected. He saw how easy it was to become suspicious. The holes in their story had not been caught by the Akeldama thanks to the political unrest, but Ernest, a master of stories, had discovered them easily. Still, as Xu burst into his room, there were more important things on his mind.

“The Viceroy says that there have been uprisings in the desert,” she announced, fear clearly evident in her voice. “Laeroxians have overthrown numerous factories, claiming the weapons as their own.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “They’re mobilizing…and Vinosec’s preparing a counter-insurgency…”

Sitting down on his bed, Steven rubbed his eyes as he thought. The Praetor had been aboard the Sentinel, talking to Gabranth. Then, a fireball had fallen from the sky, landing somewhere deep in the desert. Steven shook his head, a strange thought popping into his mind. The Laeroxians were in the desert. If Fithos knew that the Viceroy was mobilizing against him, would the young Praetor go there instead?

“Viceroy Gantatilion thinks that the Laeroxians are taking advantage of the situation at hand,” Xu continued, shaking her head in disbelief. “He thinks that they’re going to strike at both parties, a third side in the coming war.”

“No,” Steven said, although at first it was nothing more than a whisper. He stood from his bed, addressing both Ernest and Xu. “Fithos…he’s with the Laeroxians. You said it yourself. He needs weapons…he needs soldiers…” Steven’s mind raced. He needed to scan the planet from above it. He needed to contact Gabranth now. Looking at Xu, the situation rapidly played out in his mind. “Now…now he could have an army three times the size of yours…”

Chris was bored for a bit after the strange mechanical creatures walks away and had just stayed where he was, staring at the now closed door. What if they were seen by another? What if they were ratted out…I bet Simon would do that- that wretched, scandalous, horrible, friend-stealing, mind-manipulating, piece of scum that ever walked the earth! Out of anger, Chris pulled out his knife from his shelf and began to flip it in his hand, dividing his time between watching the time and watching the door.

Eventually, his anger began to dissipate and he picked up XR and connected him to the computer for a new AI overhaul. They were a bit far from the Empire and therefore, he may be able to pass with a slightly more intelligent robot.

Not intelligent enough as that strange sphere- that would probably be taken away- but intelligent enough to listen, receive, translate, and carry out orders in the basic tongue, along with the simple snapping.

During this process, the time seemed to fly by until there was little left in the hour. Chris cursed quietly and quickly ran out of his room, forgetting to unlock the door as he darted out of the hotel and back into the bar where Ernest and him had their little moment of glory…and what got him into the hangover in the first place. He sighed as he opened the door, swearing he won’t drink at all this time.

Carl had been sitting at the bar for a few minutes as twirled an empty glass in his right hand. Chris merely glanced around and looked for the fairly distinct coat, it was then that he stopped and wondered what the heck to actually order the man, then it simply hit him, like a little voice at the back of his head "Lycka". Carl merely smiled as he glanced in the mirror of the bar seeing Chris walk over to him. Seems Elijah was right about at least one of this team of Pretty-Boys being smart enough to stop and listen.

"I'll take some Lycka," Chris told the bartender, pointing to the man in the overcoat. "For him." The bartender nodded and set to work as Chris approached this contact that would be able to answer his questions.

With a sigh, Chris took a seat next to "Carl" and smiled. "I presume you are Carl, my contact I should meet?" he asked quietly as the bartender brought the man his drink.

"I don't know if you like it, but somehow, I think you would."

Carl smiled and nodded. “I do, its nice stuff. Takes a while to get used to. Yes, I believe I’m to answer some questions and various other things.”

"Well..." Chris began, searching for some more words. He had not expected the man to be so curt, but then again, Mr. Christchurch had told him that this Carl may be a bit creepy. Perhaps that fit in with the description?

"Why are you guys here? And why have you guys been...observing us?"

“Problems with our ship forced us here after the little incident on V.” Carl smiled a little as Chris saw an image flash in his mind. “Mind, we’re watching you to make sure this place isn’t gypped like Vespia did.”

"Oh? Fate reunited us then? I believe Mr. Christchurch had told me you guys were on Vespia...how'd you like that horrid planet? I lost everything there..." Chris growled angrily, tapping his hand on the counter and glancing at the alcohols in front of him occasionally. "But I don't know how much into our personal lives you've seen..."

"Gypped like Vespia? How so? Why were you guys on that...planet anyways?"
“Invaded, annex, brutally crushing culture.” Carl took a sip. “Essentially we’re scouts for another nation, we were looking for suitable places to colonize, figured this’d be a good place to start looking, we observe cultures to see if its compatible with ours, and our mindset.”

"Oh? Isn't that basically what the Empire is doing as well? Scouting around, searching for new things, exploring scientific possibilities. It just resulted in a not so nice way," Chris replied quietly, glancing at the door.

“Of sorts.” he shrugged and sipped the green liquid. Carl hadn’t turned at all during the time he had been sat there. “Why are you looking towards the door? Should try to relax a little more.”

"I can't relax. Not since Vespia. I haven't had a moment to relax. Life has just plummeted into a dark abyss. And what do I do to try rescuing myself? I let myself go even further...I murder, I kill, I get sent to jail...I can't get help from the one I loved, my best friend in college, and my other best friend...he looks at me like I am an expirement, not a friend anymore," Chris replied quietly, his hands flexing as he spoke a bit of recent events.

"Sun." Carl merely said and nodded slightly. "All of the world's problems and no ability to escape from them. I still can't quite tell as to why you killed those people though."

Chris raised an eyebrow and slowly turned to look at Carl. "How did you know that?" He was pretty sure he had never said Sun's name before.

Carl smiled a little, and without moving his mouth, as he hadn’t done so for the entire conversation, spoke. “I know enough from what I can do.”

Chris studied Carl hard and frowned. "From what you can do? What do you do? Put cameras in everyone's rooms, bug our phones?"

"Well, that's good I suppose..." Chris replied as he watched Carl intently. His own empire, the Blastonian Empire, had it's own psychic operations but they were usually a specialized breed. Whether Carl was also engineered to be a psi-ops agent or not was unknown.

"Yes. Another wonderful part of our nations workings, we tend to specialise in everything we can get our hands on, ok so in the eyes of some we seem like a mish-mash of things and scavangers, but still." He stood up and donned a cap with the words "PSI-OPS" on it, with a shrug he motioned to the door and began to walk calmly to it as an engine growled outside.

"What am I thinking of?" Chris suddenly asked as an image of Sun appeared in his mind, but quickly changing to that of Simon with an axe through his head.

“Two things.” replied Carl with a nonchalant shrug. “One of Sun, as you imagine her and remember her, and then one of her new lover in a rather gruesome scene, the interesting thing is you’re standing over the body and don’t realise it.”
He hadn't stopped his slow walk to the door of the bar.

"Too bad you aren't a fortune teller..." Chris replied as he followed behind.

“Ironically I’m not a believer in fate or fortune. Merely thoughts and facts.” He pushed the door open to reveal a dust speeder sat outside the bar, Elijah leaning on the hot hood with a grin on his face and what appeared to be a small girl in the back with a jewellers eye piece on, playing with something in her lap which made the odd bleeping squeak every so often.

"I'd ask if you brought your family with you, but I don't see a wife...unless you don't go that way, of course," Chris said as he nodded to Elijah. What caught his eye however, was the little girl in the back seat. Why would they bring a little girl? And what little toy was she playing with?

“If I didn’t like you enough I’d have beaten the shit out of you for that comment.” murmured Elijah with a sigh and a shake of his head. Carl shrugged again and sat in the side-seat and yawned slightly, he sagged a little in the front seat and tipped his hat as if asleep.

“Sit still you bloody impertinent thing!” Fran hissed at the drone in her lap. “Elijah, its no good here. We’ll have to get back to the lab, so either waste him or bring him along, your fricken call as ever.”

Chris chuckled as he looked at the speeder itself, before letting his eyes rest on Elijah. "My apologies, Mr. Christchurch," he chuckled.

He looked at the little girl and cocked his head to the side as he listened to her speak. "My...aren't you a little too young to talking like that?" He turned towards Carl, then Elijah. "In all my life, I do not think I know of an exploration unit that has brought with them a child.”

“Child? CHILD?” she hissed and leered at Chris.

“Oh God you’ve done it now.” snickered Elijah with another grin. “It needs more explaining, perhaps more than time permits, unless you fancy hitching a ride with us?” he tapped the speeder with his metal foot causing it to clang hollowly.

Chris smiled hesitantly as he looked at Fran. "Sorry," he chuckled as he began to wonder if she was perhaps just a midget. He couldn't help but laugh as the girl made faces at him because she did very much seem like a child.

"I have no where else to be...I'm up for a ride," Chris said as he got closer to the buggy, before glancing at the small girl again. "As long as she won't bite me or something…”

“Only in bed.” Chuckled Elijah as he was shot a venomous look from Fran. “As I said, we’ll explain on the way.

"Oh?" Chris asked with a laugh as he got into the car. "This should really be interesting..."


The speeder thundered across the dunes, its engine a dull roar as it floated and swayed with the ground below it, almost like a speed boat it’d crest dunes and slam down in the troughs.

“Fran here is what we in layman’s terms call a Child-Elf, she’s about 35 years old.”

“I’m part of the Kokiri race, a bunch of forest-dwelling beings who stop aging after a while. Don’t know why, but apparently that’s how it goes.” she shrugged as she held onto one of the drones in her lap.

"Thirty Five? My, you're older than me," Chris chuckled as he turned to look at Fran. "So...your mind continues to grow, then? Do you have the same...urges...as women your age? Or do you guys not really experience puberty?" Chris asked, trying to make it not sound offensive, nor quite comfortable to talk about it to what appeared to be a child. He couldn't really imagine her bearing a child either

She blushed and coughed and merely looked at Elijah. Elijah shrugged. Hit the accelerator and flung it up into the air.
“I, um, well, yes.” she nodded and blushed a deeper crimson. “We still hit a puberty, its just not as pronounced as in regular human beings.” she gestured a little to her small chest before suddenly busying herself with the drone, not speaking.

Chris let out a deep laugh as the girl blushed and spoke about her development, perhaps to her discomfort. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It's just kind of awkward, you know? Do you live longer than most people and do you grow any more?"

“Not for another good fifty years.” she shrugged a little. “Then we look more like we’re in our twenties.”

Elijah whistled. They had arrived at their destination, or rather their destination had arrived to them. The “lab” as Fran had termed it was infact a vehicle, a comfortably sized vehicle that was reminiscent of a blue whale, large wide tires hissed gently in the sand. Elijah pulled the speeder to the side and the door wheeled open. Alice stood and waved, then tilted her head to the side curiously at the new figure in the back of the speeder, she stepped out onto the sand and shielded her eyes a little, a reaction Elijah seemed amused by. “You know, I always wonder why she does that, its not as if her eyes can’t adjust to the gleam.”

Chris stared in wonder at the immense lab, wondering how in the world they managed to get it here and not get in trouble for it...

"Oh, is that the wife?" Chris asked as he looked outwards at the woman looking out after them, a joking smile on his face.

“Nope, Alice is completely single last I checked.” chuckled Elijah as Alice made her way over.

Alice smiled at the group as they got out. “Welcome back.” she said, then glanced at the visitor. “Welcome to the Dedonnan, I’m Alice.” she bowed slightly. Her deep red eyes twinkled slightly as a breeze whipped up her shoulder-length brown hair in the wind, she wore a simple blouse clasped by large silver buttons and a pair of jeans.

Chris stared at the figure a minute or two in silence as she introduced herself as Alice. "I am Chris," he said with a smile as he craned his neck to return a bow to her as he got out. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

“Roll your tongue in.” muttered Carl from under his cap. “Alice, c’mon, our shift in the city.”

“Yes Mr. Andrews.” she sighed and merely gave Chris a long glance, getting the measure of him, increasing the slight swagger in her hips and checking him out as she clambered into the speeder’s driver side and turned the vehicle back in the same direction they had come.

“Come on in!” called Elijah from the door, he already had a bottle of beer in his hand and promptly uncapped it with his hand. “I tried to get Fran to make me a bottle opener, but she refused.” he chuckled as he took a sip. After he hauled Chris in the door fell shut and clanged. Locks and apparently an air seal hissing into place. The sun beat down on the desert, as it had done for hundreds of years, but the blood red of the sun set would soon stain the sand red, and soon it could be blood staining the ground also.

Sun leaned against the wall, and felt a dizziness return her. In seconds she was on the ground. With the attention on Steven, there was no one there to catch her. Her hair fanned out on the ground; auburn and glistening in what light was provided. Those impossibly blue eyes were half open between dark lashes, glazed over and starting at the side wall as her head was turned to the side. If one would check there was no pulse, no breath. There was nothing. She looked like an absolute angel.


“Have you really forgotten, Sunilichka?”A familiar voice said, expressing her name as a term of endearment. It was a custom of many Russians rather than to say I love you to use the diminutive. “All those times you walked along that beach, and that night? Have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she whispered softly in return, but couldn’t find where the voice was coming from.

“You have though, and you don’t realize it. You will in time, and from there, things will be crystal clear.”

“There is Vespian blood in me, Baralai,” she responded to the familiar voice.

“You’re still worrying about your body?”

“I’m pregnant, Baralai…and cutting off my supply of oxygen is not a good thing.”

“You’re…pregnant? That’s rather impossible…well I shouldn’t say that. You’ll find out on your own. Who knows Sun, with a Fayth like yours, anything is possible. Yours is almost as strong as mine, and once you remember what you have forgotten, or perhaps never realized since that night, you might even surpass me, as I have limitations, you don’t.”

“What are you talking about?” she said desperately. “Send me back.”

“Always looking to be sent. To leave a place. Tell me Sunilichka, have you forgotten what happened to you the night you went to the temple? Have you forgotten why you went?”

“My parents…”

“You never knew your parents.”

“I did---“

“Shhh…” Baralai’s voice responded. “It’s all right. I don’t mean to startle you with all of this now. You have work to do. I’ll let you get back. When you are ready, you’ll send for me.”

“You…what?!” Steven asked, looking over at Xu, who had heard it as well. Gabranth did not look happy, to put it lightly.

“We lost contact with his shuttle an hour ago,” Gabranth repeated, shaking his head. “It crashed, Steven. There’s nothing alive down there.” Steven slumped back into his seat, staring at the personal projection screen, the only thing he hadn’t packed.

“So…Fithos…?” Steven asked, unable to make full sentences. His head spun, having no idea what this now implied. Are we better off? He gulped. Worse off…? Steven hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“We’ll send a team down soon to recover the bodies for the families,” Gabranth said from his office on the Sentinel. “I’ll lead it myself,” he paused. “Since it’s for the Praetor.”

Steve rubbed his eyes with his hands. The Praetor…dead? Steven still could not decide this was a good or a bad thing. He looked back at Xu, who was still masking her feelings rather well. She’s much stronger than I thought, Steven mused, unable to even see a tear. Or else she doesn’t care…

“Then what do we do in the meantime?” Ernest asked, speaking up at least. “If you haven’t noticed, Captain, we’re somewhat in a war zone.” Gabranth scratched his chin with his index finger and thumb.

“Write it in your book,” Gabranth snapped, glaring at Ernest. Dr. Puzo took the glare to mean, “You know damn well what I told you to do.” They wouldn’t be leaving yet after all. The Captain turned his attention to his brother. “Everything is still in full effect.” He narrowed his eyes, well aware that Xu was in the room with them. “Especially now.”

“But what do we do?” Steven stressed, wondering more for the rest of them. Gabranth shrugged.

“Observe,” the Captain replied, terminating the link.

Steven wanted to scream. Observe?! his mind roared. Observe what? The oncoming war?

“Doctor,” Xu said, tapping Steven’s shoulder to get his attention. She looked uneasy, but still, it wasn’t sadness or loss. Steven couldn’t place it. “I…I fear that…” And then she paused, leaving her statement as is. She was afraid, Steven realized. “Without Fithos…the Viceroy will…”

Steven’s mind returned to the scene in the palace. Xu was sprawled out against an overturned table on the floor; Vinosec was standing over her. Steven felt a rush of anger, his miniscule muscles tensing by instinct. She was in danger, and Steven had led her right back to where Vinosec controlled.

“Ernest,” Steven said, picking his comm projection module off the desk with his right hand and slipping it into his pocket. “Tell the others…see if they want to come.” He looked at Xu, ignoring how rashly his decision was evolving. “We’re going to the desert.”

Erik had set to work immediately after he got to his room, packing away whatever he could- a hard task considering XR must have been set to "Annoy" or something, considering it was pushing random items into Erik's bags, or pulling them away with its little arm.

"Get away from here!" he growled, finally having enough as the last of his clothing was pulled out by the robot and dragged along the floor. When Erik had begun to chase after it, the robot dropped the clothing and drove as fast as it could out the hall and towards a woman lay sprawled out on the floor. It drove up to her and gently nudged her on the arm.

"Oh dear..." Erik said as he ran to the bathroom, getting a cold glass of water. He began to wonder how exactly she fainted-if that was the case. "Ma'am, can you hear me?" he asked as he returned from the nearest bathroom, sat down and he fanned her face, believing the cause to be the heat. He scowled as he looked up at the bathroom, noticing he left the cup still up on the counter. He quickly made his way to the bathroom and snatched the glass before running out and trying to speak with her again. "This is the last time, ma'am, before I give you the cold water treatment," he said loudly, but still carrying a gentle tone to it. Yet as he began to think of it, he could not see her breathing...nor could he feel a pulse the brief time he was by her side.

Simon heard them come back, just as he was finishing putting away his contraband cooking supplies in one corner of the room, on one of the desks. Walking to the door, he opened it up and took a look outside, just in time to see Erik run up to a passed out Sun with something in his hand. Simon couldn't see what it was, but it seemed to catch the light and send it gleaming towards his eyes, and his instincts flared for a moment. His mind raced to hasty, rash thoughts about Chris and Erik attacking Sun, and his thoughts jumped to the defence of his fiancée and his unborn child. He sprinted at the two of them, even as Erik hurried towards Sun, and slid to a stop, falling to his knees over Sun protectively, between her and Erik. "Get away from her!" he growled, his voice raising to a shout, as he raised his hands defensively, ready to tackle the man.

It was only then that his eyes caught a longer, more detailed glimpse of what was in Erik's hand, the glass of water, and the fact that he didn't have a knife in one of his kidneys informed him that Chris hadn't been involved. He dropped his hands and hung his head, full of shame. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I thought ... I didn't realize. I'm sorry."

His head spun around, dropping so his eyes could meet Sun's, even though hers were half closed and sightless, and he reached out and held her gently with both hands. She had no pulse and was not even breathing. It was worse than before, but though he didn't know what was happening, he knew she wasn't dead. He would have been able to tell. He didn't even want to think about the repercussions of these brief spells that she had, and he simply lifted her up slightly, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her. "Sun ... wake up, please," he whispered in her ear.


*


James listened to the conversation between Steven and the others, especially Gabranth and Xu, and stepped forward boldly. "If you're going to the desert, I'm coming too, and I expect the others will as well. I'll go fetch Simon and Sun, I don't think they'll want to be left behind."

Especially since it's not safe here anymore. Even though the Laeroxians are so prejudiced ... I get the feeling we may be safer there than here.

The inside was almost living-room like in its furniture, a few comfortable seats, sofas and large beanbags adorned the place, the air was cool, a little stale, but cool. A couple of doors led off from each end, one forward, the one they had come through and two in front of them. Fran had already disappeared into one of the doors and hammering and clashing could now be heard. Elijah looked around and shrugged, before slumping on one of the pillows, it sagging below his weight. “So, as I said, offer you a beer?” he said with a grin.

Chris chuckled but shook his head. "I'm still under the affects of last night's hangover, if you were watching me then." He looked about the comfortable looking place- it had a much more home-like feel to it. Perhaps it was because someone who once loved him was no longer there to torment him with her fiance...or maybe it was because everyone seemed to know each other and work with each other mostly. "Where did Carl go?"

“Him and Alice are running a shift in the city, keeping an eye on your lot and the steadily crapping out political climate. Cup of tea instead then? Helps clear your head a good cup of Midlonian White Tea.”

He began to look at Elijah more studiously, finally having a chance to see the man without worries of being watched, caught, or having just encountered strange events- not saying that this wasn't such a strange event...

"So can you taste, Mr. Christchurch or does it just kind of go through you? Are your organs flesh or are they artificial as well?"

“Fran can explain that a hell of a lot better than me.” Elijah shrugged. “All I can say is I am enjoying the cool lovely beer.”

Chris laughed and nodded his head. "Nothing quite like it...especially when you're stuck on a dustbowl like this one."

His eyes flicked towards the door where the noises were being emitted- most likely from Fran. "So, what does she occupy herself with- making all that noise and all?"

“Machi-Pagan” Elijah replied with a shrug, he glanced at Chris and realised his puzzled look. “Oh, right… Well, a kind of religious sect dedicated to machines, she’s our tech fairy.”

“I heard that!” Came a muffled scream. Elijah merely threw his head back and laughed.
“Go in and see her if you can cope with the TX’s floating around and generally causing trouble.”

"TX's? Machi-Pagan?" Chris asked, still a bit confused. Deciding that he does want to check out what was going on, he nodded and opened the door quietly. Although the noise may not be good for his headache, he was too curious as to what he'd see. "Coming with?" he asked Elijah before he walked in.

“No.” Said Elijah with a finality and a chuckle.

The drone nearly smashed itself into Chris’ face as he entered. “Damn it Risk! Come back here. You, pretty-boy, grab that drone!” Fran barked as she moved over, a rather bizarre looking belt and eyepiece now pretty much adorning her, with extra arms and such holding various tools, soldering irons and screwdrivers in place for her.

Chris almost fell back on the door but his hands immediately wrapped around the drone, holding it in place in front of his face. "You know, ma'am, I don't know whether to take it a compliment when I am called Pretty-boy," he chuckled as he lowered the drone to his chest and pushed it a bit further away from him.

“Derogatory. Its meant to be.” she sighed and muttered something else and whapped the drone on its top, it powered down and she placed it into a magnetic lock, holding it in place. She then turned and regarded him up and down. “So, what you wanna see?” She asked as the eyepiece flicked back.

"Derogatory? Well, I'm sorry, but would you like it if I called you 'Sport' or 'kid' or something along those lines?" Chris replied, somewhat annoyed, letting go of the drone. "I don't know. What do you have to show me?"

“Tech. Religion. My religion specifically which is Tech, take your pick.” she shrugged. “Take a look inside one of these darn things if you want.” Fran merely ignored the comment as she pointed with a screwdriver to various banks, her worktable covered in bits and the now subdued Risk. Next to a large table similar to a mortuary slab was another drone, and what appeared to be a canvas, it was attempting to draw with a large piece of graphite, and slightly failing.

Chris nodded and slowly walked towards Fran's worktable and studied the several parts and pieces, picking a few up and looking at them more closely. He wanted to open up the one she called "Risk" but figured that Fran would not like it if the robot "woke up" so to speak. Instead, he walked towards the more active drone and chuckled as it moved about, drawing strange shapes that did not merge into anything recognizable.

“Belissimo!” it squeaked as it floated backwards a little, then tilted, then made a sighing sound, before spinning its top 90 degrees to look at Fran. “When you gonna make me a proper arm to draw with? Like Elijah’s! I could do everything I wanted to then.” It noticed Chris behind him. “Oh Hello. I’m called Michelangelo Pencil! Who are you?”

Chris gave it a tilted smile as his gaze shifted from the drawing to the robot. He had figured it would have some sort of personality or at least voice, considering the one he spoke to earlier did. As the machine spoke of having an arm like Elijah's, he pictured the little orb having a large humanoid arm weighing heavily on its side, giving the machine a large tilt and barely enough force to keep it airborne for long. He laughed at the thought until it spoke to him. "Michelangelo Pencil? Pleasure to meet you. I am Chris," he replied.

“What do you think? I call it. Circuitry!” he bobbed a little, pleased with itself.
“It’s the shapes and thoughts that make me, me.” It span and looked at Chris. “What do you think?”

“Fran! Fran” Bellowed Elijah. “Carl and Alice are back, there’s something wrong with her!”
“What? Oh God, it must be the heat, oh by the Machines, I said not to use her unless necessary, didn’t I?” Fran began moving and clearing things into a box, removing the clutter from the floor. She looked at Chris. “Don’t just stand there, fricken help me clean this crap away now!”

"What? What's wrong?" He asked as he began picking up clutter and tossing it into the box with decent aim. His mind wandered to Alice, the only grown up woman he remembered from this group and his mind began to drift on her eyes, her hair, her voice…
His pace had begun to noticeably slow down as he thought of her. "She didn't pack enough water with her?"

"She doesn't need water." Fran replied curtly as she kept shoving things into the box, circuits, parts, smaller boxes marked "Drone Bits"

"What?" Chris asked as he snapped back to work, tossing things into the boxes, trying to match up the loose parts with similar pieces inside the boxes. Who doesn't need water? Maybe these...whoever they are don't live on water....strange he thought to himself.

The door burst open and Elijah came in carrying Alice, she was twitching slightly and whispering “Help. Hot, so hot.” over and over again, her eyes were blinking rapidly and roving all over the place before settling on Chris for a moment, brief recognition before wandering and sliding again around the room. “Jesus my arms, she’s fricken boiling!” Growled Elijah as he carried her over to the mortuary slab and set her down, the weird thing was she hissed slightly when she was placed there, and small amounts of steam vapour from the table to be sucked away by the air conditioning. “You any good with complex electronics?” Fran asked as her eye piece flicked back down. “Steady hand with a soldiering iron, all that crap?”

"Good enough..." Chris asked, slightly in question as he watched the woman hissing and burning on the tabletop. "But...I can call my friend, Erik. He's a doctor, he can help. We'd just need to pick him up."

“Doctor? Biological or Mechanical?” Fran asked, her own eyebrow raising as she moved over to the table, screwdriver and a small drill raising slightly as she did so.

"Bio...logic..cal..." he said as he watched her raise the drill and screwdriver. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice slightly quiet and frightened as he had no idea what she was doing with those above Alice.

“Then he’s no use.” she said with a shrug as the drill came down on Alice’s chest, the screw driver moving around it, undoing something, it was when it lifted up and stopped that something clanged on the table.

A screw.

Chris gasped as Fran drove the drill into Alice's chest. "What are you doing?!" he shouted running to their side when he stopped suddenly, looking at the screw that fell onto the table. "She's...a robot?"

“Red Eyes.” she said with a casual shrug as some hot liquid seeped out of Alice’s chest, pressure and heat suddenly being relieved. “All Robots, or cyberized parts concerning optics are usually red, look at Elijah. Now, grab a soldering iron, a flathead screwdriver and a pair of gloves.” Alice’s chest clicked open revealing a complex series of chips, systems and parts that would normally be considered unnecessary on a robot. Along the area where her chest was, was a series of processing chips.

Chris tilted his head to the side, but otherwise complied as he put on the gloves, grabbed a screwdriver, and a soldering iron, before heading back towards Fran. "Ah...that's something new to me..." he replied, looking into Alice's chest. "Now why all these strange parts? They aren't needed are they?"

“She has other….purposes. The pieces such as her flesh-like bust and the parts below the kidney-line are part of her original purpose, she’s been changed a little since then, but the parts are still there.” Fran began moving tools around, the drones dragging a box marked with “A-S-D Spares” magic-markered on the side, she reached in and began lining boxes along the side.

Chris reddened a bit in the cheeks when she spoke of her bust and "parts below the kidney-line". It made him begin to wonder what exactly her "other purposes" were. In fact, he began to wonder what exactly her purposes were.

"So...what does she do?" he asked, still holding the tools, ready for whatever order she'd call out next.

“Assassination. Seduction. Destruction.” Replied Elijah who was leaning on the door-frame nodding to the box of spares. “Her purpose is to infiltrate, complexes, nations, borders, whatever, seduce a target and assassinate, or destroy herself taking out said target.

“Solder this bit please, I need the joints loosened here, here and here, and the screws removing here, here and here.” she motioned to a series of pipes, a chip and a single board itself which housed pieces and a now soggy bag of cooling fluids.

Chris followed her instructions, doing as she ordered him to- promptly and efficiently, reminded of his own work with XR, or the little games he would hold for himself to see how quickly he can perform his work.

"Well...that's...rather...harsh, no?" Chris said as his eyes briefly fell on the woman's face before he continued to work. "I suppose it'd work. Doesn't take a woman much to crush a man..." he added the last bit with a bit of anger in his tone. "Why did you bring an assassin along anyways?"

“They were designed to crush men who had already lost their souls, but not their… urges. Despite the way the models acted human and such, they would still carry out their mission without thought. Alice here was different, claimed her to be faulty equipment and bunged her into a bin, I found her and bought her along.” muttered Fran as she removed some wiring and a circuit board.

“She didn’t terminate herself after her mission and instead escaped, her skills are quite useful around here and elsewhere, let me tell you. Combat doctrines that are downloadable easily work quite nicely in a give situation. But in the end she has something, well, human about her, she’s a rarity, what we Machi-Pagans call a Ghost. She developed a Ghost and is alive as you or I, she just needs more physical maintenance than beings such as you or I.”

"Not all of us love for our 'urges'," Chris snapped at Fran assuming by 'urges' she meant physical love, pausing in his work a moment. He remained silent after his outburst, listening into the rest of her story.

"A reusable assassin, very handy. But with humanlike emotions? Strange...and...interesting," he replied, looking back at Alice's face with a bit of sadness. "Does she feel pain?"

“Look at her eyes, the way they slide in and out of focus all the time, they move and everything. She’s alive, she can feel pain, they had to have touch receptors to be able to feel what their targets were doing.” Fran replied as she placed another piece in and held it. “Solder this, White boxed connectors.
We let her do her own thing mostly, use her talents when necessary, like everybody else here. Recently, we’ve been using her USB 12 connection to link up with the Connie Dash units up on our ship to see how repairs are going.”

Chris frowned again as he continued to solder what she asked. "Does she feel us working then?" he asked quietly. "Does it hurt her?" He did chuckle when Fran told him about a USB 12 connection, imagining how it would look to see a wire sticking out of the woman. "Connie Dash units? Are those like Alice?"

“Yes and no, they’re the diplomatic and administration versions. Alice is a hell of a lot more complex. To be honest Chris, she’s never said whether she can or not, whenever we work on her she merely thanks us and goes about her life. Closed person I guess, I heard her muttering to herself once.” She grabbed a bag of thick coolant Gel and clicked it into place. “Tighten those screws nice and tight.”

"Any other way to tighten screws?" Chris chuckled as he thought over what Fran had told him. All these answers only brought more questions to him. And every minute he thought about it, he wanted to ask more and more. "Do you think she'd answer questions about herself if I asked her?"

"Does she interact with you guys much?"

“Get me to make you one of these tool harnesses, an eyepiece and chip in your spine wired to your brain to make it work.” Fran replied with a slight snicker. “She might do. She tends to stick around with us, talks to Carl a little, but he’s back in the city, when we’re done you can certainly try and see.”

"Hah...at times, I wish I were a robot," Chris replied with a quiet chuckle. "Speaking of which, I asked Mr. Christchurch a question earlier that he couldn't answer. He told me to ask you. Does he have organic organs or are they artificial as well?"

“His right leg, arm, side, jaw, right eye and such are metal, the rest is all still organic. Technically its possible for your brain to be removed, encased in a brain-case and placed into a robotic body, something we use for the critically ill back home.” Fran said as she sighed and stood back, the sack gently emptying and refilling. “Check her skin temperature carefully, she should still be fairly hot, but you wont get a blister.”

"Hah...I know about that brain canister stuff...wasn't for me. When I was going through a bit of a depression, I thought about going to the machine shops near me to get it done. But, I don't regret having my own, living, fleshy, limited body," Chris replied with another chortle.

"What temperature should I check for?" Chris asked as his hand instinctively went to her forehead. It certainly was.

“Her skin feel greasy at all?” Fran replied, watching the sack carefully.

"Not really..." Chris replied, checking his hand for any grease. "Should it be?"

"No." replied Fran with a slight smile. "It means she's fine." She reached over and began to pull the two chest pieces closed, standing back she nodded. "You can put her back together if you wish, you can talk to her too. She wont mind I'm sure."

"Put her back together? What more do you need to do?" he asked quietly, not leaving the spot he was standing, still stroking her forehead.

“I need to go and check on Elijah's arm in the other room, you saw me undo the screws and Alice will help you I'm sure." she shrugged.

Chris took his hand off of Alice's forehead and nodded as he walked closer to her chest. "Alright," he said softly, grabbing the screws and gently bolting them in her.

"Tha-Thank you Chris." Alice spoke quietly, barely a whisper, her eyes were slowly coming back into focus as the coolant system worked again and Fran and Elijah left the room, the drones having disappeared.

"It's no problem whatsoever," Chris replied with a slight smile on his face. He looked down at her face as he finished the last screw and put down his screwdriver. "How are you feeling?"

"Weird." She blinked a few times and sat up, buttoning up her blouse. "Its the sun, I'm sure of it, it make my systems simply crash out. But, I feel better, thanks to your help and Fran."

"Again, no problem on my part. However you should thank mostly Fran. She told me what to do," Chris replied as he looked around to where to put the screwdriver and also a bit to give Alice her privacy in dressing herself. "Is it any sun in general or just this one? Perhaps you need a better coolant system."

“This one, Must be the way it’s dying.” Alice replied as she stood uneasily for a moment. “Can you get me into the main living room please? I’m a little uneasy on my feet at the moment.”

"S-sure..." Chris replied as he held out his arm for her to hook hers into.
She slid her still very warm arm into Chris’ and leant on him as she limped over to the door.

"This is ridiculous," Alfonso said. "We didn't come here to go to the middle of nowhere. Why the sudden change of plan?"

"I don't know, Al. But it's either to the desert or stay here. I don't know about you, but from the looks on some of the others' faces, it's something serious. I doubt we have any choice in the matter. We're staying on Akeldama for a while whether we want to or not," Mike said.

"But," added Rich, "what the hell are we going to do there? Honestly, why can't the Empire just..."

"It doesn't matter now, Rich," Mike snapped. "We just have to follow 'orders.' It's a binding agreement we consented to when we joined...which we didn't have to do."

"Don't pin this on me," Alfonso said with a rising inflection. "You didn't have to come either."

"It's difficult to say no when you're pestered all god damn day..."

"Because if I didn't pester you, you'd be dead by your own hand," Al responded promptly.

"We've been over this before. Why the hell do you think I'm suicidal?" Mike asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Besides, you've done your fair share of nannying as well. Treating me like a fucking child when talking to the other people here."

"Somebody had to take responsibility for your actions," Mike said, sighing heavily.

Alfonso narrowed his eyes, but relented. There was no point to continue bickering. Besides, the natives to the Akeldama desert would be an interesting anthropological study of an enslaved society introduced to foreign elements. "Let's go then."

Sun took in a breath and opened her eyes. Her heart rate and breathing had turned to normal almost instantly. She instinctively hugged Simon, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m supposed to remember something,” she whispered softly, as she pulled back and looked up into his eyes; her own had violet hue around the edges infiltrating that deep blue before receding from existence. She felt disconnected from this world, and hugged him tighter to solidify her existence upon this earth.

“This is my religion,” she whispered softly. “I’m not dying. This is a gift; if I knew how to use it. If I wasn’t afraid of the repercussions,” she rattled off slightly in almost a frightened voice. She didn’t let go of him. For once she clung to someone I can’t hold on to me. Wonder what’s wrong with me…

Ernest sighed when he saw Sun and Simon on the floor. Those two went through more difficulties than most couples he knew. Then again, Akeldama wasn’t quite your optimum dating atmosphere. Steven would be wise to remember that…

“If you’re coming with us,” Ernest announced to those in the hall. “We’re leaving now.”

“We need to find a way first,” Steven said, walking up from behind Dr. Puzo. “The Akeldama transports won’t take us.” Ernest smiled, jingling the Akeldama rickets he won from chugging that alcohol in his pocket. They would have to pay a rather friendly bartender a visit before they leave.

“Oh I think I have a way,” he said, walking to the stairs. Suddenly he stopped, turning around. Something had been weighing on his mind for some time now. “Do you think that man will follow us? That one in the metal…”

“It doesn't matter,” Steven muttered, shaking his head. “I’m sick of not doing anything. I’m tired of sitting around talking. We’re being watched by men of metal that can disappear on us...we’re in the middle of a blossoming civil war. I’ve sat around enough. I’ve talked, and mused, and brooded enough. This is ridiculous.” Steven walked towards Ernest, giving everyone else one last look, silently pleading with them to come along. “It’s time I finally do something.” Xu now stood beside Ernest and Steven. “It’s time we all do something.”

"I know," he replied quietly, holding her close to him. "I know, but I can't help getting scared and nervous every time it happens. I'm not used to it." He smiled. "Remember, I'm not the one who's lived in the United Empires all her life."

James made his way over towards them slowly. He didn't want to interrupt them, but he had to ask them if they would come with Steven, him, and all the others to the desert. He took up a standing position a slight ways away from them, facing away and staring off into the distance of the hallway, looking at the bare walls and what small decorations adorned them. He didn't want to disturb them, but if they glanced over it would be fairly clear he needed to talk to them.

“I’m not used to it either,” she admitted before resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. This was not the time to be resting. It was never a time for rest. Steven’s words reverberated through her mind, and they started off. “I think we should hunt that man of metal,” Sun said, clicking her tongue. Technology could not see her. Life scanners were useless. “Something has been amiss here from the beginning. One thing is for sure though,” she said walking with Simon and glancing at James, which forced him to come along to speak with them. “I hate politics,” she said plainly. Her tone was defined and articulated. She knew something; or felt something. One would never know with her. Ever since she became a priestess, she could reach out to living things, feel their presence. Science was pretty much screwed as far as that respect once. Perhaps there was chemical receptors that were sent out and then somehow transmitted the message back; or perhaps it was simply from her knew occupation. Her cross weighed heavy against her heart, as if it were heavier than herself.

You should go with Simon, she wanted to tell him. Everyone had their secrets; Sun had her own. Ones that were only kept to those who had been ordained as a priestess of the Three United Empires; as Ravelyn’s priestess. That woman; that woman was as close to the source as you could get in this world. Everywhere you go in this world, people use technology to kill. What ever happened to trying to heal? For the greater good? It has become obsolete,[i] she thought silently. [i]Here…here is destruction. Here is chaos. This is not like my land; this place is heavy with insolent sin. These thoughts she kept to herself. It was never a side publicly seen except during worship. Why did she want to go alone? Everyone has their secrets. She couldn’t ask him to leave her again, so she didn’t.

How would she be able to explain it to him anyway? She couldn’t even explain it to herself. And supposedly, she had forgotten something Baralai had told her or something important that had happened. Even with that knowledge, she couldn’t remember. Why was Baralai calling her so often? Did he realize the situation she was in? He was the Eternal; he should know especially because the Eternal and the Guardians of the Fayth are linked strongly; that is the head priest and the masters. Still she had no idea what to expect, nor what she would find.

"Be that as it may, we're in the thick of it now," James said, falling into step beside the couple. "The Praetor's dead, his shuttle crashed. That viceroy, whatsisname, has marshaled the army, and the Laeroxians are revolting in the desert. Which is where we're headed, for some reason. I think it's mostly because the viceroy hates us and wants us dead, so with him in command of the army none of us are safe." He glanced over at his two friends. "I say we go. I don't like it here. We're not safe, that much we're sure of. Besides, maybe we can actually do some science, study the Laeroxians. I know I wouldn't mind that."

Simon nodded wistfully, but said nothing. It was fairly clear he agreed, but his mind was filled with apprehensions and dark thoughts. The prospects of what could happen were so great that it took him some time to clear his mind and sort the thoughts into what would probably happen. Eventually he had come to the decision that the desert was, strangely enough, probably safer than the city, especially given how he had seen the Akeldamans treat foreigners and their own.

"Oh...?" Erik had begun as the man seemed to enter a threatening pose. He had dealt with such in his previous job, and had recieved many a broken bone from it, but that was not what he wished. Luckily, the man seemed to notice that what Erik was doing was not harmful to the woman.

"No apology necessary. It could be quite a probable assumption, considering the hostilities and events that have occured thus far," Erik replied to the man as he began to speak to the supposedly dead woman.

And just like that, she sprung back to life. It was like...the miracle of birth or something. Without a defibulator. One minute, she's dead, another, she's alive. It reminded Erik of either one of those creepy moments in the ER when your patient is suspected dead, yet you cannot shake off the feeling that the person keeps watching you or moving....or one of those silly stories of the "undead". Either way, they both sprung up and walked away without so much as a "thank you" or a "hello" even.

"Well...then...hello..." he said from where he stood, glancing down at his water. He shrugged and drank down the glass before returning it to the bathroom and walking back down the hall. "XR, go finish packing Chris' belongings."

The robot merely rolled about, bumping once into Erik's leg, then rolling into their room to continue pulling out more clothing. With a groan, Erik looked over at the Author, Ernest, followed by Xu, and Steven. "I'm coming...my pack is ready. But where is Chris?"

“Hopefully it will be warm,” she sighed softly. She had become accustomed to warm weather and had began to loose her resistance to the cold. She hated it. She walked into their room, and after Simon entered she closed the door preventing James from coming in. She felt a bit bad, but they needed to hurry, which meant she was changing right then an there. She unbuttoned her short sleeve blouse and pulled a white tank top over her head and smoothed out the edges. With white shorts and climate considerate white boots, she braided her hair quickly, and tied it in an elastic. She wrapped a white sari around her. This was her garb as a priestess; it was form fitting, but white would reflect the heat; it was light weight material, and despite the fact that this was a touchy situation, she looked damn good. The plainness of color brought out the blue in her eyes and the cross around her neck. This was so not a trip for chemistry.

She unexpectedly walked over to Simon and kissed him. It wasn’t soft or tender, but rather passionate and hungry. We make it back alive and there will be a celebration. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and lingered there, simply looking up at him. She walked to the door, and opened it so James could enter or they could leave. “Oooo I’m going to smash the viceroy in the face for ruining my vacation,” she said. She was completely serious, and would do it. Surprising for her size, that woman hit hard.