NationStates Jolt Archive

It's an absolutely glorious winters day. One of those so bright it hurts, cloudless days where the brilliant blue sky is utterly and completely different from an equally cloudless brilliant blue summer’s sky.

A day of infinite possibilities I think, remembering one of my great- grandmaters favorite saying.

The trees about the glass-domed station are a mix of bare branches reaching for that sky, and others clad in the deep green tinged with blue of evergreens. The fountain's fall of water makes a soothing plash that echoes across the vast plaza, and it's deep enough to keep from freezing despite the usual seasonal cold. It's also heated so the brilliantly hued Koi that swim languidly about don't freeze their pretty pink fins off. The crowds that will throng the plaza in the days to come are absent, but the there is some bustle and noise...

The station isn't officially open today; this event is the final test run before the inaugural festivities for the last section of the HST that serves Fatal Terrain, connecting the various major cities of the region's sprawling nations. There's only a very limited passenger list, a very exclusive one, and I'm lucky to have gotten the assignment to cover it.

But I'm one of the best photojournalist's around, and the honor is not unexpected.

I look at the Hypersonic Train, a sleek elevated monorail configuration and for a moment a chill that has nothing to do with the winter’s frost settles across me. I pause for a second then raise my compact state-of-the-art holocamera to my eyes. A gentle click, barely audible, and the award winning design of the station is captured in the memory card. I check the camera over with a frown, for the capture, shown on the four-inch display seemed off some how, but when I recalled it for review, I couldn't see anything wrong. It must have been the glare.

Once it's safely back in it's case, I grab the pull handles of the large case of equipment and my equally large and heavy overnighter. My Colt forty-five is a snug presence in my shoulder holster and the heirloom crystal dueling pistols, made by a master many years ago for my great—grand mater are snug in the overnighter. They haven't left my presence sine I inherited them. It's always been considered bad luck in my family for the current oldest daughter to be separated from them. So I cart them with me, tradition that is stronger than common sense....

"Have a good trip Lady Hawke" The attendant said after checking my credentials as I stepped up into the sleekly luxurious maglev hypersonic train car. I stow my bags and slid into a plushly decadent seat. The stewardess comes to ask my taste in beverages and to let me know that once the HT is in full roll I will be able to go forward and interview the pilot. I find it interesting they call the engineer- driver a pilot. Perhaps, because it is a Mag Lev, it actually leaves contact with the earth as it moves.

The trip is only a few hours long. Just four hours to go over five thousand miles. The technology is proven, and the mages of Tarlachia, who created the Gates that cut the greatest time off the journey, are past masters of the Art. I use both Portals and Gates regularly without even thinking about it. However as I sit with my Heartway's vente white chocolate mocha, extra white chocolate, whole milk - yes I succumbed to it years ago, and I'm glad they won the concession rights...I feel chilled again despite my warm outfit and wrap. I wonder if the environmental settings are a little off....

http://img183.imageshack.us/img183/7563/traineurope3cr2.th.jpg (http://img183.imageshack.us/my.php?image=traineurope3cr2.jpg)

http://img507.imageshack.us/img507/9730/virgls3.th.jpg (http://img507.imageshack.us/my.php?image=virgls3.jpg)

If there had been a bustling crowd in the station, he would have merely been another face, another person on his way to somewhere important enough for him. However, today would not give him the crowds to lose himself in. No, today, he held amongst his other documentations of identification purposes, a personal and rare letter inviting him to partake in the last of testing stages for the HyperSonic Train. He was to be exposed to full service as would be expected of the crew; all with the intention of giving his personal opinion as a testimony to the success of the HST system. It also helped that his name was linked to another name more well known; the name of his wife: Kaylinde Moore Balran, formerly empress of Tanara. She had stepped down from power only weeks before, and had gone to wrap up a few last minute things in Tanaara. Hans had returned briefly to Tarlachia, more out of nogstalia than anything else for memories of a life long destroyed by the cruel war-faring activities of the Devilish civilization on Argonia.

Shouldering the bag he was carrying, Hans cast his pale grey eyes around the station out of habit more than anything else. He had been Kay's husband, and also her most loyal protector. No other wife anywhere would have felt as safe as she knew she was when he was around. The memory of her face appeared in his mind and his eyes softened ever so slightly at this. Another visual scan in the opposite direction yielded no potential situations worth investigating, and so he took the first step to ascend into the train's interior.

He immediately took notice of a woman sitting not too far away, her back to him as she occupied herself with some food and drink. Approaching warily, yet confidently, he seated himself a few rows ahead of her, partly so she would not be unnerved by him being behind her, partly so he could get a subtle glance at her face as he passed her by. What he saw, spoke volumes to his inner psych, and he suspected that the camera sitting near her was an indication to her profession. Great, just bloody great. he thought to himself as he leaned his head back into the headrest.Reporters. I despise them. His thoughts turned to his wife, whom was waiting several stations ahead in Tanaara. From there, she would join him and they would travel to the farthest gate from home and get off there for their much needed, and much deserved vacation time alone with each other.

For now though, Hans found himself irritably listening to the smacking lips of the reporter as she happily stuffed her face with chocolates. His teeth gritted together as he fought the urge to retreat the way he came, grab the food and toss it out the nearest window. Instead, he pulled out a newspaper, busying his thoughts on articles that spoke of distant wars and conflicts. A few small uprisings in the lesser nations of the region, and something about an informal political summit in a nation called Unseelie Sidhe taking place, highlighting "sensitive information" that detailed who had gone to greet the new government.

All in all, today's news was no more than par for the course, and so far, very little found in international news about the upcoming public maiden voyage of the HST system.

Hans Balran (http://www.atddm.com/hans.jpg)

Another member of the media had apparently boarded the train just before her, Hawke noticed irritably. Her slurping and smacking of lips as she gobbled down some refreshment was audible through out the sleek confines of the car.

Victoria made herself ignore it, but it wasn't easy. She resorted to staring blindly out of the window, as she waited for the trip to begin. She had a old favorite of a novel with her but she would save that for later.

Though the brochure the stewardess had handed her when her coffee arrived promised one of the years hottest holocinnies to be shown shortly after they had reached cruising speed. But that was also when she'd get a chance to interview the pilot and his assisstant, and that was far more worth looking forward to. The details of the mix of tefchnology, magery and pwionics was simply fascinating, even if most of the esoterica was far beyond her comprehension.

She noticed the car had a few more people in it when she turned from the view out the window. Most of the engineering and technicial types were in the three cars following this one which was also the dining car. She took servral note worthy faces but it had never been her style to act like a papparazzi or gossip columnist. She might ask one or two whom she knew personally if they would be willingt give their opinions at the end, but that would be it. She knew, at least by sight, every one of im,port in the Fatal Terrain region. One of the new arrivals was not at all familiar. Perhaps he's just a relative of one of the money boys that's caged an invitation. she shrugged to herself then turned the trifold to the dinner menu Most of those here were financeers of the project, or closely associted with it in other ways. The more publically heralded event was the inaugural run tomorrow.

The irritating woman whose manners were clearly indicating the woman's oblivious mentality to her own behavior, let out a burp that was, to put it delicately; very unladylike. Hans closed his eyes, running through his mind several scenarios on how to deal with the situation. He did know one thing though, and that was there was no way he'd put up with the woman's obnoxious behavior for much longer.

Another burp followed several minutes later, and Hans shook his head slowly. The newspaper was folded with deliberate care, set down on the seat next to him and forgotten in thought. Rising to his feet, he looked forward to nothing in particular as he straightened the jacket he wore. When he turned to the woman, his expression was that of absolute coldness, his eyes like ice. Still, she did not notice him, not until he halted two feet from her. Pausing in midbite, her eyes turned sideways, then up to meet his own.

"Ya'gotta prob-phlem?" she muttered, a hand snaking to her purse next to her. Hans merely kept his gaze locked with her for several more seconds.

"Lady, I'm part of the train's aesthetic experience enforcement team. May I have a word with you?" He pulled a wallet out, flipping it open briefly to reveal a small badge inside before closing it before she could get a good look at it. In reality, it was a sort of passport he carried with him that signified royal connections, and thus, he was to receive such treatment.

She raised an eyebrow, nodding finally.

He leaned in until his face was in hers. "If you so much as make another sound with your disgusting manners, I'm going to be forced to escort you off this train faster than you can say hypersonic train. Am I clear?"

The lady's face grew angry and she hastily washed the food down with her beverage. She began to speak loudly, "You have no idea who I am, do you? I can ruin you, cause you to lose your job, and sink this company's reputation in the business world like a dead weight. I am, what some people like to call "a reporter" and we all know just how much power reporters truly have."

Hans kept his face stone cold. "That was mistake number two." he spoke quietly.

"Sir! I demand you get out of my face before I call security!" she nearly shouted now, pulling out a can of mace and pointing it at him, "I swear I'll use this! I swear!" And then, a burst hit him, but her trembling hand had caused it to strike his chest.

"Mistake number three." Hans growled, snatching the can from her grasp with such speed that she jerked back. However, her retreat was short lived as he lifted her to her feet, and pulled her to the door. Slamming his hand over the button that opened it, he watched as the doors opened swiftly once more.

He looked back at her, growling lowly to her, "Was it so hard for you to simply close your goddamn mouth?" He shoved her from the train, toward some security personnel that had seen the tail end of this conflagration.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Balran?" one of them asked as he picked up the woman's dropped bag while the other two guards took hold of the woman's arm. Her eyes shot wide open as she stared back at him. "Balran? Hans Balran?" All color drained from her face.

Ignoring her, Hans shook his head, "See to it that this woman is escorted off the premises and sent on her way. If she gives you any trouble, have her arrested."

"Yes sir. Lady, let's go." they replied.

Hans watched them leave, then glanced around the car. Others had watched the situation unfold, but had remained seated and silent. It was likely they realized now who he was and more importantly, his connection to this whole project. With a sigh, he returned to his seat, picking up the newspaper again but lying it on his lap. He leaned his head sideways against the window, looking outward.

I'd recognised Mr. Balran earlier, but had paid him little attention. His wife might have been Empress of Tanara until her recent abdication, but neither of them had had anything to do with the Hypersonic Train. Though I now could easily figure out how he'd gotten an invitation. I'd heard they were privately touring the region. That wasn't the sort of news I handled, but it was nice to get a rumor confirmed.

I cringed when the lip smacking woman, clearly not from Tanaara, or from any place in the Fatal Terain region, save maybe Imitora, opened her mouth with...

"You have no idea who I am, do you? I can ruin you, cause you to lose your job, and sink this company's reputation in the business world like a dead weight. I am, what some people like to call "a reporter" and we all know just how much power reporters truly have."

I could have injured ribs laughing over that stupidity there at the last. And the Hypersonic train hadn't been financed by just one company, she obviously hadn't checked her facts, but by a consortium of the largest companies in the region. It had been an effort equivallent to us putting the space elevator up, and in the end would reap just as much profits.

Fortuantely the train compartment had the lastest in air exchange and scrubbing, for the old fashioned mace she sprayed him with could have put the rest of us in the hospital. That sent my laughter fleeing and I was very pleased when he got her quickly off the train.

I watched him move back to sit where he had been, then I stood and walked up to stand next to where he sat. "Thank you Mister Balran. She is a disgrace to her purported proffession. Even a papa..."My voice trailed of, as a notion struck me "Mr. Balran did you get any odd vibes off of her. That woman was so unprofessionasl that it strikes me as wrong" I said slowly, trying to let my impressions of her resort themselves out..

I looked back, at the space where she had been sitting...Her overly large handbag, no it was more of a messenger bag in shape, was still there. "Did you get any sort of look in that bag?" I moved so, that if he stood and looked past me, he could see where it took up most of an individual seat.

The sound of another voice, this one much sweeter than that of the woman tossed from the train, spoke to Hans from the aisle. Inhaling deeply at first before turning his head and looking toward her, he looked her over not because she was a pretty lady, but more to determine her true purpose for being there. Everything about her, though she might try to hide it, spoke "journalist". He glanced past her at the bag she spoke of, shaking his head negatively.

"Vibes? Are you as daft as you make yourself to be?" Hans asked bluntly, looking her now in the eye with an unwavering look, "Everything about her was wrong. I chose to take care of her as I saw fit." He looked back out the window while muttering mostly to himself, "Though, I'd prefer to simply maim her, or perhaps even kill her, simply to rid the world of scum like her."

Another glance back to her, "Nothing against you. I just strongly dislike those who purport to have power and are undermined by their own behavior."

He let a moment of silence pass.

"Now, would you be kind enough to introduce yourself, miss?" He indicated the open seat next to him. "I can tell you're a journalist yourself, though I hope you're of a much better caliber."

I crouched down to make level eye contact with him. I'd always hated being hoovered over, and so endeavored to refrain from doing it to others. But my voice was cool, I think it was the...

"Vibes? Are you as daft as you make yourself to be?"

"No, but I have had precognative happenings before. And you should not find that that unusual, being a native of Tarlachia, with a half Elvin, Half Celestial for an Empress."

or maybe it was the second much softer mutter of...

"Though, I'd prefer to simply maim her, or perhaps even kill her, simply to rid the world of scum like her."

"Well being an ass, or having an oversized ego, aren't crimes, though you could challenge her to a duel. But it'd be rather laughable as she obviously is unarmed. No gun and no wits for either sort of duel." I said keeping my voice just as low.

I wasn't likeing Mister Balran very much. He should, being native to the region, know that most of the reporters and journalists in the Fatal Terrain nations weren't like those elsewhere in the world. Being able to enforce a "no" with the possibly lethal consequences of legalised dueling tends to keep even those naturally inclined to act like paparazzi from pushing very much. Most of us 'grew up' knowing that asking politely, and not stalking tended to eventually gets us interviews. But maybe he'd been visiting out of the region since they'd come to vacation on Earth and had had some recent bad expereinces. Still..

I stood and looked for a steward, eventually seeing him coming up from the lower deck galley. "Excuse me, but the woman who was escorted from the train. She left her hand bag" I'd moved over to meet him, I didn't want to make a big scene out of it, but the hairs on the back of my neck prickled still.

I watched him frown and gathedr it up, hurrying off the train while calling for security. Returning to where Mister Balran sat and taking the seat he'd offered earlier I introduced myself "Thank you for your patience Mister Balran. I am Lady Victoria Hawke."

I had earned my title just before the end of the Dark War. I didn't flaunt my title, but I was proud of it. The Crown didn't hand out titles lightly, though I believed that any one would have done what I had done. Thankfully most of the world had forgotten the incident.

"Lady?" Hans asked, turning his head to look at her, "A journalist with a title. That does not happen often, especially if you're from where I think you're from based off your accent. Tanaara, I presume? It's quite possible that you received your title while I was away on a trip, otherwise I surely would have remembered you."

He turned his head to gaze out the window as he heard a distant commotion. It seemed that the reporter was still trying to argue her way free of the security detail. He shook his head, turning back to Lady Hawke. "A duel with her would have been quite unfair. My own children would have easily beaten her."

A look was passed to her eyes, capturing what he needed to know about her personality in accordance with his intuition. His intuition about such things had proven to be quite useful, and very rarely wrong.

Tanaara, I presume? It's quite possible that you received your title while I was away on a trip, otherwise I surely would have remembered you."

I gave him a look. No other nation I knew of quite had the Tanaaran accent, but he had been away for years now. "I doubt it got made mention of off in the Empire. And I don't remember you being on planet during the Dark War, or if you were, I was too busy trying not to get dead to notice it." I smiled to take any sting out of it.

I'd only been eighteen, and not paying that much attention to "old" POW's, much less ones that hadn't done their soldiering on planet. And he'd and his wife had been 'done' to death over the years. I'd prove myself more gracious by letting him enjoy the trip without being questioned.

"Thank you for letting me introduce myself" I stood and began to move away, shaking my head as I heard the brassy woman's voice outside the train. "Yes a duel would have been little more than a joke." I replied to his comment. Though, had we been in Tanaara, I might have challenged her just for the sheer embarrasement she was being to her purported profession.

Her voice faded beneath other, more authorative ones, and it sounded as if she were being escorted away. I sank down in my seat as a steward refreshed my coffee. I looked at the latest brochure on the train that I'd been given at boarding and nodded appreciatively.

The train reflected well on it's designers. (http://www.atddm.com/hitrain.jpg) Even the lowerst price fare, the General seating, was comfortable with what looked like plenty of leg room. And had the dining cars they shared with Budget Busines class werre nicely appointed and a had an expansive menu. Business class had two price ranges, Budget and Executive, and were well designed to handly a variety of business needs. The Reserved seating was very comfortable, and featured the most variety of decor. These three different styles being Antique, then what I'd call "comfortably clubby", and 'sleekly moderne' The private pods were simply worth every auric.

This run however did not have a full load out of the various cars. It was comprised only of the engine, the Reserved Seating & Dining car, one of the sleekly high tech look Reserved Seating cars, and two fitted with Luxury Business Pods - though given the number of techs and other scientist types I am certain that at least one of those two cars is actually crammed with every possible scientific device. Maybe even both...

Two heavily-coated figures stepped in from the cold. As they passed through the downdraft of warm air of the heating system fighting against winter outside, the two figures' attentions were drawn by different stimuli. One of the figures, tiny woman, slowed to a halt as she looked up at the glass dome, transfixed. She absentmindedly flipped an end of her long green scarf over her shoulder as she stared. "It's...it's beautiful...like half a sphercial fullerene..."

The second figure was man of average height, build, and weight. With brown hair, deep blue eyes and humble boy-next-door looks, he was a perfect candidate for the most unremarkable man alive if not for the scar slashed diagonally across his face from just above his right eye down to his left cheek. He thought it gave him a rakish air but maybe that was his a small part. He unbuttoned his long brown winter coat, exposing his blue belted uniform jacket with its standup collar, colorful ribbons, his two shining colonel's rank insignia, and the name tapes that read "Quigley" and "Air Force." His attention was drawn towards the commotion exiting the hypersonic train.

On instinct, his right swept back his coat and exposing the pistol holstered on his uniform jacket's waist belt. His right hand hovered on .45 Glock's grip. His left hand reached out and gripped the red jacket of the tiny woman. The woman half-jumped as the airman's hand closed on her shoulder and began pulling her behind him.

She stumbled back behind him, her short brown bangs drifting across her bangs. "Colonel Quigley, what's the big id..." She stopped as she saw the tall, well taller than her anyways, man's hand on his sidearm. She glanced over to follow his line of sight and saw a rather unsightly and disgusting woman being hussled off by security personnel.

Seeing that the commotion was under control, Quigley relaxed, taking his hand off his weapon. He turned to the woman. "Sorry, Doctor Scott, I don't take to surprises all that well."

Doctor Scott was glanced down at his pistol, still exposed as his coat was stuck behind the grip. "I see that..." She glanced up into his face. "Is everything okay, Colonel?"

Quigley pulled his coat back around his holster and looked around the train station. Besides that ugly sow that the Tarchalians were hauling off, everything seemed okay. "I don't know, ma'am...I've got a bad feeling about this."

Doctor Scott frowned and looked around her. "Perhaps it is the magnetic levatation system that is partially involved in the operation of the train. It is known that powerful electromagnetic fields have been known to cause feelings of paranoia. Why when I was deep in the particle accelerator..."

Quigley tuned out the small woman. He was pretty sure it wasn't the maglev making him jumpy. It could be a factor but there was plenty of things about all of this to make him feel uneasy. It was the maiden flight of an unproven craft. As a pilot, that went against a sacred commandment of flight Never fly the 'A' model of anything. Then there was fact there was magic involved. Quigley was a gearhead at heart, but he'd heard all kinds of mystical voodoo back home from Taung pilots and even the alor, Taung tribal clerics. Frankly, he didn't like magic all that much because it was too hard to predict.

On top of it all, there was Doctor Diana Scott. He glanced down at her. Short brown pageboy hair, a face cute as a button and shining care and kindness about her, she was epitome a primary school teacher. The only hitch in that description was she wasn't primary school teacher, at least anymore. She was the head of Bard Gun Company's Molecular Backstepping, Sidestepping, and Farstepping Division and unstable mentally, which made her doubly dangerous in Quigley's opinion.

They had been invited by the Tanaarans as a delegation from Catawaba to evaluate the possibility of creating a hypersonic rail system in Catawaba. Having read her Miraade Only level secret clearance dossier, he'd been driven to cursing when he'd found out he'd have to babysit her on this trip. She was brilliant, absolutely brilliant, and possibly the only Catawaban that could come close to understanding the complex gate and teleportation system the train would be utilizing. However she hadn't been born with that sort of brilliance. She'd been born with enough intelligence to make a good, sweet primary school science teacher. The Togovians, the former imperial power that had ruled Catawaba, had decided to drag her into a genetic manipulation project codenamed "Project Egghead" to see if they could gift a normal person with the mental capability to grasp or even create a systems for time-travel and teleportation. It'd been successful but unhinged her mind as well as it had all subject of Project Egghead. It wasn't a normally dangerous, homicidal madness but a cackling, mad scientist sort of madness. The danger was in what they created and what happened when they activated what they created.

He'd been assigned, officially, by Miraade Errant to evaluate the abilities needed to pilot a hypersonic train. He was one of the best pilots in the Catawaban Air Force, or at least he thought so, and might be one the few that could figure out how to fly it and if it could be taught to pilots that, well, weren't him. Unofficially, he was also here to protect Diana Scott from the world and the world from Diana Scott.

As she noticed him looking at her with his eyes slightly glazed, she wound down her technical explanation of electromagnetic fields and their adverse effects upon human emotions. "Umm...would you like me to start over? I'm sure I can cut down some of that...summarize. Let's see neurons and their electric signals move..."

"No, ma'am, that'll be okay. I can feel my bad feeling passing already." He lied. "I'm sure it's just a case of butterflies before a flight."

"Oh....oh! You do know those aren't really butterflies? You see..."

Quigley sighed and walked towards train. Diana hiked up her purse up on her left shoulder and then a laptop bag on her right shoulder and scurried after Quigley, over-explaning the scientific basis of a common idiom.

Politely nodding along without listening, he stopped before the train attendent and presented the Catawaban invitation along with his military ID card. Diana skidded to a halt and patted her pocketed until she found her passport and presented it to the attendent. The attendent dutifully skimmed the invitation and looked for authenticating marks on it then compared the ID and passport against their respective owners. He nodded and handed back the documents. "Everything checks out. Have a good trip, Colonel Quigley, Doctor Scott."

Quigley smiled and nodded to the attendant before stepping onto the train car. Diana thanked him sweetly and followed her escort inside. Quigley puased and swept his eyes across the car. It wasn't that full, and no one really struck him as an academic type. He assumed most of the science wonks most be towards the rear of the train.

He moved forward, leading Scott along behind him. He spotted a couple of open seats away for most of the passengers in the middle. Across the aisle were a man and a woman. The man looked rough, and Quigley didn't like him from first glance...perhaps it was just the man's clear attempt to horn in on Quigley's rakish facial scar monopoly. But other than his copycat injury, he screamed policing authority...perhaps some kind of spook. As a military aviator, his natural enemies were anti-aircraft weaponry, gravity, superior officers, peace activists who wanted to cut defense spending, other military aviators, other branches of the military, military police, and spooks.

The woman had an evaluating, investigating demeanor of another sort than the man. Hers was more inquisitive. He pegged her when he saw a camera case and other equipment that said 'investigative media busy-body' or 'journalist' as they are known in Catawaba or mostly in Quigley's head.

Whee...a spook, a reporter, and a mentally-deranged quantum teleportation scientist..."Yep...a bad feeling about this..." He mumbled to himself.

"Thank you for letting me introduce myself"

"No problem." Hans replied, "Nice meeting you." He glanced across the aisle as Hawke returned to her former seat; studying the two newest arrivals within mere seconds before turning his attention away. The woman's nearly runaway behavior, displayed by her physical actions as she settled in countered the deliberate calm of the man with her. That man, he noticed had a scar on his face that left no doubt he was military. The uniform and flash of the gun made sure to inform Hans of such as well.

Hans pulled back his sleeve to check the time, then consulted his brochure obtained upon boarding to see the departure time. Thirteen minutes to go. He watched as an attendant moved down the aisle, securing cabinets and asking passengers to secure their luggage. While he didn't give the outward appearance of being much interested in this new transportation system, inwardly, he was rather curious, especially about the continual gateway transport of a large solid matter for several long seconds through mountains and other natural earthly obstructions. Hans was familiar with the expertise of the Tarlachian mages, many of whom were of elven origin, so he wasn't particularly worried about the stability of the gates. Rather, he was more worried about mechanical issues. That invisible foe, commonly known as Murphy, was an overly inquisitive force, always prodding, always testing everything and anything for any weaknesses to exploit. The sheer power Murphy derived from the unraveling of even the most carefully laid plans was the very core of what many feared almost instinctively.

Hans sighed, looking out the window to the thick forests that lay just beyond the cleared area that now was occupied by this station. He closed his eyes briefly, opened them again; repeated the process several more times until at last he allowed himself to drift off to a hopefully peaceful sleep.

The Sandman however, had other plans for him...

He mischievously dredged up memories, ancient memories of a swamp forest world. Pain. Anger. Hatred. Death, and faltering Life. Nothing was left hidden from his subconscious. Not even the excruciatingly painful physical alterations. The splicing of his skeletal system and neural system with an invasive alien technology. The neural inhibitor meant to control him. The language infusion conjoined with the neural micro technology for better control and command over the puny human that Hans had once been.

The only human to survive such an invasive experiment... Hundreds of others had died before him, too weak to withstand the mental and physical abuse that made the Holocaust look tame.

A lone figure standing amidst the destroyed ruins, his entire body covered by the exoskeleton fused to his body, and a woman before him, whispering his name though she did not know for sure if it really was him. Not until he willed the facial armor to retract.

A chase; a hunt really to destroy the rogue assassin-turned enemy against the very masters that had enslaved him. The masters who were in every respect, virtually impossible to kill.

And somehow, by some stroke of luck, or perhaps the blessings of an unknown deity...

The abject fall and destruction of the Devlish oppressors on the planet of Argonia.

The seed of companionship and pure love between the woman and the deeply and forever changed soldier...

Suddenly, Hans awoke, startlingly slightly as he looked about in confusion for a moment in the unfamiliar surroundings. Whispered words in a language nearly forgotten escaped his lips before the present time caught up with him and his memories returned to update his thoughts. He sunk in his seat a bit, still breathing heavily.

Strange... he thought to himself, I thought I had locked those memories away for good. Kaylinde would want to know this. She'd help him re-lock those memories, memories that for some odd reason, Hans refused to allow wiped from his mind completely by elite psi-practitioners.

Wiping the sweat from his tired face with a single hand that was wiped a moment later on his pants leg, he picked up his bottle of water and drained it completely of the rest of its contents. He looked out the window finally, just as the train shifted into movement to begin its journey.

Damn you, Sandman. he cursed silently, Just couldn't leave me alone, could you?

Kevin Rouse Callahan II sprinted through the terminal. He looked at his watch, a few minutes before departure. He was young, just over twenty years of age. His hair was a rusty red/orange, cut short, his eyes a light green in color. He was of fairly average build, a slight bit of fat around his belly if his shirt was off. He wore a pair of khaki pants, white sneakers, a dark blue collared shirt and a crimson windbreaker that red in gold on the back University of Chelam. Over his shoulder was a weathered bookbag that was obviously stuff with things.

Kevin's father was Kevin R. Callahan, one of the most powerful Senators in the Republic of the Golden Simatar. When the invitation came, the President has selected his father to go on the trip. Publicly his father declined citing a case of flu and made a statment saying he would send his writer son in his place.

"My son has such a talent with the written word, he makes me proud every day. I am sure he will be able to tell us better than anyone about this new..." Kevin blocked out the rest of his father's dribble, he knew that he was an embarrassment to his father. His father set himself to be a powerful senator and was grooming his son for years to one day be the President, something Kevin never wanted. His father had displayed him like a sideshow attraction at many dinners saying how his son would one day take the nation. His father had gone berserk after he learned that his son despised politics as well as would rather spend his life writing. That was two years ago, when word leaked out to the whole of Congress, his father sent him as far away from the capitol as he could to try and keep from becoming a laughing stock. His father only seemed to care about himself, barely batted an eye when Kevin's mother died.

"Wait!" Kevin called out. The attendant at the door paused as the boy ran forward. Kevin offered him the invitation. The attendant looked at the paper then back at him. Kevin pulled out his wallet and showed him his identification card. "Its addressed to my father, he sent me instead."

The man nodded and Kevin climbed aboard. As he did so, he noticed quite a few seats were already full, he was probably one the last on. He took a seat by himself in the back of one of the cars and relaxed into the leather as the train started to take off. Kevin put his bag in the seat next to him and zipped it open, it nearly erupted as notebooks and folders full of paper revealed themselves. He stared at it for a time before pulling out a red notebook labeled Lost Legacy and sat it on his lap. He pulled out a blue pent and popped it open.

Kevin ordered a diet cola and started writing as the train moved ahead.

'Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen" came the voice of the older gentleman who rose from his seat at the front of the car and stood easily as the train glided forward with no sensation of movement save the most subliminal.

"I am Doctor Martin von Helsing ( http://www.canmag.com/images/front/movies2008/fools9.jpg), chief director of research and development for the Interregional Monorail and the next fifteen minutes will be the slowest of the trip, as we gather up speed to crack the sound barrier and raise the energy shields. Once we are at cruising speed, in the 'steady state' as we've taken to calling it, I'll be glad to answer any questions."

He consulted a note card discretely and looked about, finding then meeting first Dr. Scott's, then Colonel Quigley's, eyes as he moved forward to greet them personally. His smile was gleaming white and his handshake firm. "Doctor Scott, Colonel Quigley I am so pleased to meet you! I must apologize but both Dr. Ravencross and Major Therockbottom were involved in a minor automobile accident enroute here this morning and in the confusion we quite forgot to assign you replacement liaisons." He didn't look the epitome of an absent minded professor, but there was more than a bit of that air about him. He was considered the greatest mind of the time when it came to blending Quantum Physics with high-level Arcane Mathologicals. But he could never match his own socks, his daughter covered the more mundane facts in his life but she'd gotten married last week and the six of her group marriage were off on their honeymoon.

"Colonel Quigley we've made arrangement for you to ride in the cockpit at the inspectors console. And Dr. Scott would you care to ride in our sciences and engineering car? We have a station with all pertinent readouts available set aside for you."

While they were still moving below certain speed, and still in the station the connecting hatches between the various cars were still enabled. And would be again once they reached cruising speed, but during the active run up between those states individual cars would be isolated, for safety purposes.

What is it with central casting today I wondered as the last three guests arrived.. Not one but two men with rakishly handsome scars. And undoubtedly both of them off limits- at least one I know for certain is - and given my depressingly bad luck in certain matters the other was most likely as well. Though his dossier hadn't mentioned....

Well looking at the newcomers, placing them against the dossiers I carry in my near eidetic memory is a better past time than mooning over my pathetic history with men. And it's a snap to place Doctor Scott, but why was she giving me a Rocky moment - thankfully Not Rocky Balboa, but the "Great Scott" scene from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Something troubles me about her.

That means that the most handsome stranger with her had to be Colonel Mathew Quigley, he apparently considered by his countrymen as a living Mister Murphy..."Keep an eye on him, will you Ria" Rob had asked over dinner. And when I kept an eye on someone, should I chose, it was with far more than a photographer's eyes. He's easy to look at in a comfortable sort of way. He doesn't raise the hairs on the back of my neck in the least.

I take a good look at the last one to enter, placing him in the slot labeled 'Kevin Rouse Callahan II' G.S...Though it is supposed to be his father here. Though, honestly, with it's negative anti human sentiment Golden Simatar had not been expected to respond to the invitation at all. Building links into Golden Scimatar were still in the talking stage because of their attitudes. One of my best friends was a vampire and I certainly didn’t want him exposed to such bigotry, much less endangered by them and their “it’s not human so kill it” attitudes.

The pilots and co pilots were mostly vampires whose heightened reaction times were going to give them an edge in responding to hopefully never occurring problems. Though the central C.I. was supposed to handle it, backstopping it with an on-train independent command- namely the pilot and co pilot -made a lot of sense. Just as it made sense to use people who had a reaction time that nearly could match that of a C.I,’s.. Yes it was only nearly but it was psychologically reassuring to those five hundred and eighty million surveyed on the subject.

Kevin used his left hand to bring his cola to his mouth while continuing to write with his right hand. He stopped as a man up in the front of the car spoke, Kevin was slightly irritated, he hated stopping when he was on a creative roll. He put down his pen and looked up to see the old man speaking. As he addressed several people a few seats up, Kevin adjusted himself to see an arm of one, as von Helsing said 'Colonel', Kevin knew this wasn't just a trip for reporters and observers.

As he relaxed back in his seat, he felt a strange sensation in his body. Kevin looked over a little and saw a beautiful woman staring at him. He stared back her for several seconds before he brought up a fist. First his pointer finger, then his middle finger were raised, giving the woman the peace symbol. He smiled slightly before putting his hand down. Kevin turned back to his notebook and pulled his pen out again and continued to write.

Colonel Matthew Quigley (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/jedierrant/Quigleybiz.jpg), who had taken the aisle seat, returned von Helsing's firm handshake with a genuine smile. He didn't dislike scientists, even the flighty, forget the glasses on top of the head sort. He liked them. They came up with as crazy ideas as he was disposed to think up in times of crisis. He had to peculiar habit of expierencing the results of really long odds. If something extremely unlikely could go wrong, it usually did, and when the extremely unlikely and extremely bad did occur, as it often did, Quigley was usually able to pull off the extremely unlikely to get out of danger. Fellow pilots had given him the callsign "Juju." Whether bad juju or good juju, there was juju all about him.

Doctor Diana Scott (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v35/jedierrant/Scott.png)'s handshake was light and dainty. Her expression was cheerful until she heard of their liasons' automobile accident. She turned horribly shocked and saddened...which lasted a few seconds until heard the mention of 'a station with all pertinent readouts available set aside for you.' Their liason's potential doom was entirely and utterly forgotten. She suddenly giddy. "Really? Technical readouts? Oh, oh, I must see how you handle the quantum recording of the human brain.." She started to get up, gathering her things when Quigley put out an arm to keep her from climbing over him to get out.

He smiled, not looking away from Dr. von Helsing as he waylaid Diana. There were proprieties to observe. While addled, manic Scott might forget it in the excitement of the moment, he wasn't going to pass over two Tanaarans getting hurt coming to meet them, and as the Miraade said to every service, changing the first noun to the appropriate branch noun, 'every airman is a diplomat.' "I'm sorry to hear about the crash, sir. Doctor Ravencross and Major Therockbottom are okay, I hope?"

Dr. Von Helsing and the Catawabans

"Really? Technical readouts? Oh, oh, I must see how you handle the quantum recording of the human brain.."

"Yes my dear" the good Doctor replied happily beaming down at the small lady. She was indeed cute as a button.. "Recordings of everything we could think of and a few suggested by the fine children at Sigovia's Academy for the Suprememly Gifted."

Though he didn't know it the good colonel would have felt right at home at Segovia's. But then again so would Doctor Scott.

"I'm sorry to hear about the crash, sir. Doctor Ravencross and Major Therockbottom are okay, I hope?"

'Oh?..OH!..yes! Just one broken arm and leg each, simple fractures. The vehicle, a fine and noteable antique, is barely scratched as well. They'll be flying to Montgard this evening I've been told" Doctor von Helsing replied without hesitation, and without looking up from Doctor Scott. Then he shook himslef and looked at Colonel Quigley

"So care to ride in the cockpit?" He askled the Catawaban pilot.

I grinned at the peace sign the Geeseer gave me. It was no news that the father despised the son for not bing some political wanna be. My stance put me solidly on the kids side. No one in Tanaara like politics, and we often wondered among ourselves why people in other nations put up with them. We mostly ended up shrugging our shoulders in resignation.

Maybe he would end up a noted author and make his pompous windbag of a father even more miserable.

I'm glad I had good hearing, it allowed me to listen in on the conversation between the Catawabans and Doctor Van Helsing, one of my favorite people to interview - even if he did lose me about a third of the way through. Science, at least at his level, was wayyyy beyond me. But he was an absolute sweetheart to talk with.

Quigley looked over at Diana who was practically giving him puppy dog eyes so she could go back and play with the other quantum physicists. He was pretty sure leaving her alone only invited trouble, but if he wasn't sitting near the cockpit, the trouble would start there. It wasn't a big train, and he had admirable running speed...especially when all hell broke loose.

Diana frowned. "What's the wors..."

Quigley pointed at her accusingly. "Don't finish that sentence." He glanced towards the rear of the train. "Fine, go on, Doc."

Diana perked back up. Quilgey stood up and stepped into the aisle to let her by. Diana scooted around Quigley and all but skipped towards the rear of the train. The brown haired man sighed.

He turned to Dr. von Helsing. "I'll take ya up on that ride in the cockpit, sir." A little of his Catawaban twang filtered into his voice.

One of the train's staff had lead Dr. Scott though the interviening cars, while checking her dinner preferences along the way and making sure that she was comfortable. The stewardess had left her at the door to the last of the four cars with the cheerful admotion to " Please feel free to ring for anything you need, and we'll do our best to provide it."

The door to the last car had slid open before she'd had more than the merest chance to assure the stewardess that of course she would

"Doctor Scott?" A young man, barely twenty at best and wide eyed behind heavy glasses. He was so myopic that even the latest corrective eye surgery techniques hadn't much helped. Skinny as a rail, his abnormally large hands seemed to swallow Diana's as he gently shook her hand. "I am so pleased you could make it. I've read all your papers and your theories are absolutely fascinating."

"OH! Forgive me! I'm Jacob, Jacob Forego." He added blushing heavily as she ushered the petite Catawaban into the sciences car. It was filled to its specifically designed and constructed brim with every sort of appropriate to the need and a few that weren't...maybe... instrument of detection.

``````````````````````````````````

"I'll take ya up on that ride in the cockpit, sir."

"Ah good lad" The good foctor went and keyed in a sequence on the key pad next to the connecting hatch - all of which had been designed to discretely and unobtrusively blend with the decor. The door slid open as the engineer came back to escort their visitor forward.

"I'm Darathi'enell, but please just call me Ath," The slender, pale skinned half elvin engineer introduced himself as he shook hands with Colonel Quigley and led him past the crew lounge and rest pods "Lucien and Tammara are makeing sure the last check list is complete."

He motioned to what was normally the inspector's post - the interior of the cockpit was tiered, with the pilot in the lowest, most forward part (http://www.atddm.com/hitrainpc.jpg) of the cockpit. Then two steps higher - their zone seperated by the walkway -were the copilots and engineers stations (http://www.atddm.com/stations.jpg), so they could not only see their wide sweeps of touch screen displays but the pilots as well. The highest level was the inspectors station so he could look over all the others.

And that was where Mathew found himself being seated. The pair of even paler skinned Vampires looked up briefly from their digital checklists and flashed him brief smiles, but were careful not to display their fangs. Noo that either of them felt the need to - both were complete professionals, and old enough vampires- to have no need for that dominance display.

"Skirts's show green,"

"Check"

That was the last check point - once they had reached a certain speed the i-bar shaped magnets in their windtunnel designed housings would raise, retract with in the body of the nearly needle nosed cab, freeing them from the monorail and allowing them to achieve the five hundred miles per hour they anticipated.

Once the checklist was signed off on they turned in their seat and introduced themselves. From the briefing that the Catawaban had recieved he knew that both of them were ex Tanaaran fighter pilots.

Diana Scott smiled at tall, gawky as the stepped past Jacob into the sciences car. Her mouth made a silent 'O' as she looked over the assemblage of instruments and meters. She stopped and cocked her head to the side. She shuffled over towards a bank of electronics, hiking her purse and laptop bag up on her shoulders. "Oooo...what's this? I read or seen most of this before...but what's this? Huh? I don't think I've ever used a data recording device like this one. It looks shiny..." She was looking at odd bit of instrumentation. One of those that didn't seem appropriate to the situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quigley nodded to the pilots, Lucien and Tammara. "Y'all can just call me Quigley. Don't need 'Colonel' bandied about here."

He settled into the seat and secured himself in the inspector's crash harness. This was, of course, still with his long coat on. Warm and cold, the ambient temperate seemed to have no effect on his comfort. Someone might offer to take the coat, but it was not something they did more than once. Quigley had a firm personal commandment. "You take off clothing outside of your current place of residence, you're going to lose it. After you lose it, you're going to wish you still had it." Besides, his dress uniform was sadly bereft of pockets, well any pocket deep enough to conceal anything but the thinnest object. Deep, concealing pockets or garments were a matter of life and death to him.

After he checked the buckles of his crash harness, he looked up at the pilots. "So...y'all were Butterfly drivers, I reckon?"

but what's this? Huh? I don't think I've ever used a data recording device like this one. It looks shiny..."

"We're running north up the center Lossefanyar Athan Massif though Gates and Portals, rather than tunnels bored though the lenth of the mountains, right?" Jacob replied, pulling up a map ( http://www.atddm.com/hitrainmap.jpg) "and this is a adapted sidescanning ground pentrating rader. We want to see if it will work while the train is in the aether between Gates."

He was so excited he was all but dancing a jig."This paert of the line goes the longest between Gates. Until a month or two ago Blue Anthem was undergoing constant attcks by Demons coming out of the mountains just to our west and south. We didn't feel it was safe to have the train accessible to them, thats why we chose to run up the spine and in another 'dimention' so to speak"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So...y'all were Butterfly drivers, I reckon?"

"That brought a comfortable laugh 'Yep, the Midnight Mongols. I'm 'Bread' and Tammy here is 'Butter' Wingmen for over two decades and then decided to tie the knot with our entire flight. The eleven of us" Tanaaran fighter flights were five pairs and a 'High Guard' who filled in where needed. "We're all employeed with the HSR, but we two won the toss to drive today."

"Ever been up in one? When we get to Montgaurd we can take you up in a trainer. We're still Reserve" Tamara offered with a smile.

"Groud penetrating radar...that's...that's...brilliant, Mister Forego!" Scott leaned in, awe struck. "Getting real, hard data in 'nth space'...this is incredible."

She spun around to face Jacob, craning her head up to look at him. Diana was beaming, giddy with excitment. "Most of my work has been theory. It's nice of you compliment it...and flattering to know someone outside my fellow Bardlings read them...but the most I've ever been able to do is put an apple in one gate and get declicious apple sauce out the other. Not adequate for safe transportation but I have made leaps and bounds for Catawaban fruit-based product industries."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quigley's mind stuck for a moment on the concept of marrying his whole squadron. Sure he and his squadron were close. They all had some part to play in their celtic punk band BIF, and they loved to spend time with each other...but marriage? No, he'd had a multiple person relationship...entirely by accident mind you. A horrible love triangle that he had tried to untangle and cut off one of them women...but of course hilarity ensued, for everyone except him and the two ladies. He'd been slapped seven times and his car had been torched twice before it was over. No way that was happening again. Monogamy was safer and had a lower car insurance premium.

He shoved that aside. He nodded to Lucien. "Man, I'd love to get up in one. I've flown our Kangaroo, Wallaby, but mostly the F-17 Viper, which is a hobbled pig compared to yer Butterflies. Any time I could log in a Butterfly would be shiny, since I figure that's what might replace the Viper as our tactical fighter."

but the most I've ever been able to do is put an apple in one gate and get declicious apple sauce out the other. Not adequate for safe transportation but I have made leaps and bounds for Catawaban fruit-based product industries."

Jonas blushed and happily offered "I'm pretty got at spotting problems, maybe if I looked over your maths in the quantum field strength. Thats were a lot of our porblems eneded up being..." He started to ay more then stopped listening intently

"There we go we just spooled up we should be approaching mag lev resonance any...there!" He smiloed broadly "Three hundred miles an hour and the skirts have retracted. "Shield formation complete. It's the same sort of energy shield used by aerospace fighters. Now if a bird or a missile hits the shields takes the energy and transfer it so we don't end up smeared all over the countryside."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any time I could log in a Butterfly would be shiny, since I figure that's what might replace the Viper as our tactical fighter."

"No problem..." Lucien broke off to intently watch a display, one hand hovering over another command screen "Skirts up and running. Shield formed we're airtight."

"I show mag lev seperation nominal, no variations from parameters!" Ath replied form the engineering station.

Lucian turned to look directly at his wife, his fangs shwoing clearly in his broad smile. "Stage one complete."

Quigley leaned forward, glancing between the displays before him and the train's crew. He was mentally trying to outline how to fly this thing. He was keeping up pretty well with the train's crew until Lucien's fang caught in light coming through the polarized windscreen. He looked down at his display again. They were going over four hundred knots.

He looked back up and looked from Ath, who from his Foriegn Affair briefs had all the appearance of a half-elf, to Lucien and Tammara, probably both vampires from the degree of similitarities. Huh, interesting. "That was pretty impressive, y'all..especially whatever dampener y'all got to keep us from getting jello'd by that acceleration."

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll just be straight with y'all. I saw y'all were tryin' to be discreet with your fangs. Good job, lota vamps I've come across wouldn't go that far...'course, they were tryin' to sink'em in me...but do ya think that anybody without a vampire's 'celerity' could pilot this thing? Especially when yer jumpin' through the gates coming up?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She looked around, frowning for a moment as she tried to feel the changes. It was all remarkably smooth. She waited, impatiently, for Jacob to finish his report. She was doing her best not to bristle indignantly. "It's not an issue of problems in my math, Jacob. It's an issue in having only the most basic form of quantum gates and molecular detanglers. Catawaba hasn't the ability produce the equipment to further my research. I had to settle for apple sauce and strawberry puree to justify my work's practicality to our money-strapped government." As one might imagine developing teleportation technology was not high on the Miraade's list of research and development priorities, no matter how he liked Diana.

but do ya think that anybody without a vampire's 'celerity' could pilot this thing? Especially when yer jumpin' through the gates coming up?"

"I think so" Tammy said "but it would require greater concetration. We can lay back a bit. But part of it is fail safe advertising. Some people just get the screaming willies when going into or out of Gates or Portals, and apparently knowing some one with 'supernal' reflexes is there just in case, makes them less likely to freak out."

Lucien nodded vigourously as he kept the majority of his concentration on his board, and let his wife do the talking. "This isn't fun the way flying our fast burners was, but it's interesting in it's own right."

"However as fun as this is the only thing that is making the expense feasible is the fact that Fatal Terrain is so large. Tanaara north to south is over five thousand miles, as is Tarlachia." Ath said. "We nedd the highest speed travel we can do, with out disturbing the environment, which this does"

The fact that both sponsoring nations had strong traditions of preserving the environment as much as possible was also a strong factor. Perhaps even stronger than the size of the region.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had to settle for apple sauce and strawberry puree to justify my work's practicality to our money-strapped government

He looked like a beaten puppy "oh Diana, I didn't mean to insult your skills." He blushed " I do know that a lot of technology and equipment is headed Catawabas way. I'd love to see your equipment, you must be fantastic to get as far as you've gotten." Jonas wasn't known for his skills with the opposite sex,though he was so very earnest and an utter boy scout - but the other scientists were all occupied with their own stations - though the nearest had smiled and indtrodcued herself before diving back deep in her bank of displays.

Quigley snorted in amusement. "Y'all'll just have excuse me, but I reckon havin' a vamp stickin' around the controls will be more likely to scare your normal Catwab white."

He pulled his hand out and counted off on his fingers. "I know a good bit of the vamps on Catawaba, which most Catwabs, includin' the Miraade, don't know one. I figure we got somewheres...around a hundred? And they're mostly a surly lot smart enough not pull anything the alors or my family can find out."

Quigley looked up from his fingers. "I'm sure Doctor Scott would get this right off, but why don't y'all just teleport about instead of goin' by rail for a while and then 'portin'?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana's demeanor suddenly swung back from indignant to excitedly cheerful. "Oh, that okay, Jake. Can I call you Jake? Always liked the name Jake."

Diana spun away from him quickly. "And I can't wait to get that equipment. Errant's promised me a new lab, and with that new equipment...if I were to have a better molecular detangler and faster proccessor in the molecular rearranger....I won't be limited to make processed fruit products...I can make pies!"

Doctor Scott's obession with teleportion effect on fruit had come unexpectedly from her early tests, using apples to calibrate the reassembling of complex organic forms. At first, she'd only gotten burning apple goo, but on a whim she had fiddled with her out-gate and managed a pile of bland but edible apple mush. Bard and the Miraade had restricted her to plants when she'd asked to experiment on a chicken to see if she could get chicken nuggets out of it.

That restriction was very quietly enforced within the government, mostly to effect of having her Marine escort hand her another fruit or vegetable and daring Diana to try and get something out of it. They also tried to convince her that it might be as 'fun' to try reassembling the object as it had been when sent through the in-gate. Doctor Scott had thus far stared at the persuader utterly confused and offended at the limited scope and imagination of the persauder.

I'm sure Doctor Scott would get this right off, but why don't y'all just teleport about instead of goin' by rail for a while and then 'portin'?"


Ath threw back his head and laughed "I knew some one was eventually going to ask!" He stretchedn then interlaced his hands behind his head. "This started life as a simple idea to connect Fatal Terrain by high speed monorail. Then there was a spate of terrorist activity in some of the FT nations and someone had the bright idea, of " if the trains are in 'other space' the terrorists can't get them."..However..."

"Thaumaturgically, Teleporting, or opening Gates is major Arcana, and most mages can't reliabliy transport more than themselves. The same with psionics. Sure circles of mages, and Tower circles can, and we can make permanant Gates and Portals, but do you want to guess at the power requirement? Horrendous...but it was discovered if something was in motion, especially high speed motion it went through at not only a much lower cost but more safely as well."

"And most of the people who can't normally take useing Gates or Portals seemingly have no problem with this 'encapsulated' method." The half elf grinned and added don't ask me about the physics and tao, I just know it works."

Kevin turned the ink covered paper with his hand, revealing a fresh sheet before he started writing again. He was oblivious to the rest of the world around him, in the perfect writer headspace. As Kevin continued, his thoughts were becoming less fluid and more rough as an outside force interfered. His thoughts stopped completely as the annoying voice finally broke through.

"Excuse me?"

Kevin's pen skidded across the page, leaving a long blue line across several paragraphs. He sat there for several seconds before turning angrily on whoever had broke his concentration. There was a woman sitting in a seat across the aisle from him, she looked to be in her early thirties. Kevin's voice reflected his aggravation. "Yes?"

"You're Kevin Callahan, son of that big senator right?" She said.

Kevin looked down at her hands, she held a small black recorder, through the glass viewport he could see the wheels inside turning. A bloody reporter. "Yes."

"Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Yes." Kevin said, being as obvious as he could.

The woman simply smiled, not taking the hint or really wanting her story. She held the recorder closer to Kevin. "You enjoying the trip?"

"Yes, its nice, it was..."

"Would you like to see this extended into your country?"

"I haven't seen what this can fully..."

"Reason why I ask is because of your nation's discrimination towards non-human races. Do you support your government's discrimination policy?"

Kevin sat there, his face twisting. He was mad at her for breaking his headspace, he was now getting angrier at her for continuing with her questions. "I know of my country's laws towards possibly hostile non-humans, my father is one of the ones keeping them alive. I support..."

"So you would support Simatarian police boarding these trains should the rails be extended into your country and arresting any vampires or elves or lycans who might just be passing through?"

Kevin sat there starring at her, his jaw was clenched. Placing down his notebook, he moved over to the aisle seat and looked at her. "Save your questions for Van Helsing up there. Maybe you can't take a hint. I've been trying to subtly get you to leave me alone. Now, let me tell you what I've been trying to get through to you. Bugger off."

Holding her gaze, the reporter looked down at her recorder and stopped the tape. She backed off and relaxed in her seat. She gave him one last look before turning head head out the window.

Kevin sighed and moved back over to his window seat and relaxed. It would take him a little bit to get relaxed enough to want to write again, if he could he would have simply ripped the recorder out of the woman's hand and broken it. But that wouldn't look too good for him. Taking his cup, he drained the rest of his cola before resting his head on the window.

Hans listened as they were welcomed by the Doctor with nutty hair. He hardly paid him any attention, instead just looking out the window and marveling silently at the near lack of any detectable movement at such high speeds. It was like watching a movie: you knew that there was an element of movement, but you were still distanced because you simply were the audience. However, this train merged both consciousnesses together and he had to admit, he was impressed enough. Granted, some would see it as a step back in technological pursuits, but it was done to help those who were less aware of more advanced technology, to sort of ease them into the possibilities that some others had already achieved.

This whole train system was merely a stepping stone, and a very public one at that.

"So you would support Simatarian police boarding these trains should the rails be extended into your country and arresting any vampires or elves or lycans who might just be passing through?" a female reporter's voice was heard from somewhere behind him, obviously talking to someone else. Turning in his seat to cast his gaze down the car, he rested them upon an obviously irritated young man. It wasn't long before he finally put his foot down.

The woman turned away, seating herself silently as she scribbled some notes on a pad in front of her. It seemed she had taken the cue from the woman already ejected from the train.

A voice chimed over the intercom, one that came from an automated system. "Attention. Attention. Please hold on, this train is approaching the TanTarl portal."

A transport through the portals typically did not cause any disruptions, but sometimes once in a blue moon, the portal wormhole was pressured by natural arcane forces that swirled almost chaotically. However, the passengers would note that in their brochures received upon boarding, there was a note about such possible situations. There was also an assurance that the entire rail system was crafted by the finest of technological engineers and the finest arcane engineers. At worst, they were told, they might experience something akin to moderate turbulence.

On small screens strategically placed in the ceilings throughout the train, an image appeared, the portal in question approaching at a fast rate. As they approached, they watched as the portal sprung to life.

First, the circular portal's twelve glyphs began to light up one by one in rapid succession, each one used to structure the wormhole and stabilize it and surrounding area. Once complete, there was an almost liquid-smoke substance that hovered in the midst of the circle, expanding rapidly to the parameters set, shifting colors from grey to white, and finally settling in blue, an indication that it was a stable wormhole.

Hans kept his gaze fixated on the screen, and partially out the window, inhaling instinctively as they barreled through the portal. Time seemed slow or speed up, one couldn't be sure, but during this time, passengers would be treated to a view not typically seen by those not of any arcane ability: A world that appeared to be filled with strands of water that flowed in every direction imaginable, each strand taking on a variety of colors, from pure white to ultraviolet. As mesmerizing as this was, it was only a few seconds long before there was a flash of light and they were out the other side, still hurtling along on the rail with all the grace offered by the train.

Shielding his eyes from the momentary glare of the sunlight once again, Hans blinked a few times before flipping the brochure over to look at the map, just as the automated voice spoke again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Tarlachia. Arrival in Navera Station in ten minutes."

Just then, a voice, this time one of the pilots' own spoke up, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Because this is a maiden trip, we will not be actually stopping at Navera Station. Once the entire system is publically open, we'll be making regularly scheduled stops at each of the stations. Thank you."

Several minutes later, they barely got a glimpse of the station before it was gone from sight again as they made their way across thousands of miles to the next gateway.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Tarlachia. Arrival in Navera Station in ten minutes

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Because this is a maiden trip, we will not be actually stopping at Navera Station. Once the entire system is publically open, we'll be making regularly scheduled stops at each of the stations. Thank you."

I blink my eyess and shoot a look at Doctor Von Helsing. He looks perplexed as well as he replays the announcement in his mind. According to the brochure and original information I'd recieved, there weren't any stops scheduled along here. It made no sense, and there is no such city in Tarlachia. And we are leaving Tarlachia, not entering it. The run was the Tarlachian Empire's southern most city direct to the capitol of the Domiation, Montguard.

The two hours since we had left the terminal had sped past, the nearly five hundred miles an hour speed of the train barely felt. Entering and exiting through the first Gates had felt much smoother than I had expected them to. Though why I had expected anything else wasw something that had me wondering as well. Dr. von Helsing and I had barely slowed our deep discussion about his daughter's wedding.

But a stop in the middle of the mountains, in the middle of nowhere, with no city, village or... And I mean 'by in the middle of the mountains" I meant litterally that- for as I understood it, this section between Gates was litterally a tunnel IN the rock of the mountains with a service section, a link to the matter/ antimatter plant that powered the Gates and the train, and some automated control rooms...not open air and ...

And my eyes go wide as we pass what was obviously a train station... a gas lamp lit, red velvet and gilt decorated train station of the eighteen hundreds. With people in strange clothing...A wierd mix (http://www.atddm.com/mix1.jpg) - some of which I recognised from old photographs - and seemed to suit the setting, but others seemed like something from one of the more 'far out' design houses. We had flashed by too fast for me to get a good look though...

The Dr. von Helsing is on his feet with a strange expression, almsot leaping to a discretely placed console on the wall, his hand visibly shaking as he presses in a code and them firmly plants his forefinger on an omniously red button...

In the Pilots section...
The first gate, some two hours, into the journey - just under thousand miles flying by at a cruising speed of nearly five hundred miles an hour- they reached the mountains and first of the Gates. Once the Train entered it they would cover over 1000 miles in the blink of an eye. The train would emerge at the recepient Gate, in a tunnel that had been carved out of the interior of the massif. A tunnel that housed the matter- anti matter power plant, a series of automated control rooms and other necessary maintence areas. But not stops of any passenger train, though maintence trains had their own siding here

The passengers would see merely a series of murals, commissioned from some of the regions finest artists, as they flashed by. The tunnel was barely fifty miles long till the next Gate.

There were four Gates in all on this section of the line, with the largest numbers of Portals. Four in all , covering the longest distance of miles covered via Gate / Portal translocation if all the track yet laid.

And all of that distance was within the massif, litterally within the vast upthrust of bones of the Earth called the Lossefanyar Athan Massif ..

And as the train approached, entered, and excited the first Gate/ Portal every thing was registering as normal.

Then it wasn't, normal that is -though the displays certainly looked that way...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Tarlachia. Arrival in Navera Station in ten minutes

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Because this is a maiden trip, we will not be actually stopping at Navera Station. Once the entire system is publically open, we'll be making regularly scheduled stops at each of the stations. Thank you."

The pilots and the engineer looked up as the A.I. made an unexpected announcement, and frowned. The first wasn't the A.I.'s voice they were used to, and the statment made no sense to them. Then came a much more 'human' voice, though it was not one that they recognised either.

"Lucien?" Tammy began only to be intrupted by the engineer..

"I'm registering a spike in" Athn yelped as a cascade of electricity surged though his console, over loading the mutliply redundant breakers and sparks sizzled up from the access pannels of his station.

Back in the science car weirdling, unaccounted for energies began to manifest and swirl about the various science stations, distorting readings and causing surges that the various probes, sensors, and other devices were not designed to account for or register. Then, with a sharp crackle of sound that hurt the eardeums, all the lights went out, leaving the car plunged in an odd red glow that seemed to have no particular origin.

OOC: Just let me remind you what the Next Stop is... (http://youtube.com/watch?v=-LOdQylbfCA)

For a nano second unnoticed by either the pilots or the over extended engineer the front view screen flashed black, then cleared showing open grey skies.

And the train was moving five hundred miles an hour ...

"Altimeter shows blank," some one, it didn't matter who...

Either the register was broken or what it registered distance off of wasn't there any longer. Namely the rail.

"Ablative shield has disengaged" Another voice

The train whipsawed violehntly as something airborn struck it, but fortunately not hard enough to send it into a tumble.

Ath caught in a corona of eldrich energies, spasmed upright breaking the restraint harnes with the force of his seizure. His hair staning straight out from his scapl then melting. Smoke pouring from between bared teeth, ears and nose like the breath of a dragon. The sharp sound of his spike cracking...

Tammara screaming as something long and iron grey pierced the cab shattering uin the forward portal then impaling Lucien where he sat at the pilots console...

The last car still attached to the rest but cracked like the poppers at the end of a bullwhip. The other cars spinning in at least one full longitudinal roll during which gravity seemed to go haywire, and the windows black.

Hans had seen the station, but its brief view was not enough for him to realize something was off. However, the screams from somewhere up ahead, coupled with the suddenly overly violent spasms and rolls of the train clearly brought him up to speed.

A fall, or perhaps a rise, was taken as he slammed sideways into the ceiling, having not bothered to put on his safety restraint earlier. Then, he was thrust to the floor again as the train completed the roll and slammed haphazardly into the earth and groaned to a halt.

Smoke, or dust filled the air with such thickness that breathing was all but impossible. Suddenly, there was a fierce cry, one born of anger and a great dislike for Murphy's inopportune time to chance upon them. A bloodied hand gripped a nearby seat as Hans pulled himself upward. The same hand then moved to wipe blood from his face as he looked around finally at the glass strewn about, several bodies clearly sent instantly to death, and the debris scattered about.

He waited as his nanotech kicked in to repair the biological damage he had sustained, mostly just minor injuries and one moderately heavy gash on his forehead. His clothes were torn, and covered in blood, most likely his. His belongings were missing now, but that didn't concern him. What concerned him was trying to figure just what the hell had happened.

As the nanotechs finished, it was then he activated his exoskeleton, feeling the cool metal slink around his entire body almost like a liquid before it solidified just enough to allow him great dexterity and movement. Save for his head uncovered still, he was completely encapsulated in the exoskeleton, but even without the facial cover anyone could see he was not normal.

And he was angry.

He looked around the train, calling out finally, "Anyone alive?" He made his way back through the destroyed car, checking bodies to no avail. "Say something if you're still alive!"

"Mmmmmm" I goraned. I was still alive, but given the pain, I think I'd rather be unconscious. I can't see, though honestly I'm not too sure my eyes are open. There's something warm and thick and sticky heavily coating my face. And I seem to be buried under something. I can feel weight on me, or rather after I take a few assessing moments, on part of me.

What ever has me pinned seems pretty heavy, or my attempts at movements are just all in my head. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so I'll just go back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hans...

Hans can see that Dr. Van Helsing is ovbiously dead, but he can not see Lady Hawke whom the sceintist had been chatting with.

The stairs down to the lower half of the car, where the kitchens are, is blocked at the bottom. Some sort of heavy metal cabinet has fallen against and mostly blocked any view into the kitchen galley.

The hatch through to the second car is some what buckled open, though it is dark and nothing seems to be moving within the car.

While the crew hadn't noticed the sky outside, Matthew Quigley had been watching it with unsettled worry. This didn't seem right...then he started hearing a pair of guitars alternating chords in a rather creepy manner. Quigley's gut grew cold.

He was sure no one else was hearing it was something peculiar to him. Great now sudden, jarring horns and a pounding piano...and now some man, who was much too calm explaining something about dimension of sight and mind and sign posts...Twilight Zone? What the hell...

"Umm...guys, I think..."

"Altimeter shows blank," one of the crew said. Quigley could hardly pay attention. Another song was sounding around him, in him. It was a tense arrangement of strings, brass, and percussion, with it he felt his paranoia being to peak (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvCI-gNK_y4&feature=related). This was extremely unsettling. He glanced down at the altimeter and it was reading a string of dashes as if the altimeter was disconnected. That was bad...an altimeter should always show a altitude of at least zero. You couldn't go into negatives.

"Ablative shield has disengaged"

Quigley's eyes grew wide. He could hear a cliche bum bum BUUM as the shield fell. He braced himself as the cockpit slammed to the side. He saw a horrid glow out of the corner of his eye. He looked over, and his face paled as he watched Ath beginning sizzling, melting as a corona, like a small sun formed around him.

At a woman's shrill scream his eyes were pulled forward from the morbid, grotesque mutiliation of the engineer. He saw the gun metal grey hurtling towards them like a gigantic dart. This must be what a tanker feels like as a SABOT comes in on'em his mind pondered morbidly.

Instinct kicked in however, and Quigley turned his head away and raised his arms to protect his face. It was just, of course, in the nick of time as the windscreen exploded inwards in a shower of glass shards. His long coat, not any better than thick cloth, miracluously turned all the glass save one small piece. As he lowered his arms, a neat, straight line of blood welled up on his cheek.

He scanned the cockpit quickly and his eyes were drawn to the pilot's seat. Quigley could see that gunmetal dart sticking through the punctured metal of the seat back, what was worse was Lucien's blood dripping through the seat back and down the ragged tip. Tamaara was still screaming, and Matthew didn't want to look at Ath.

His mind wandered again, shocked into a quiet place. This isn't right...I would have expected 'Bread' to get toasted not Ath...and Butter should had that dart go through her, well, like a hot knife through Butter. It was horrid, he knew deep down, but it was cliche and it should have been a firm truism around him. That's how things worked out. If there was a cliche way for someone to bite it around him, that's the way they checked out.

Matt's mind slapped him hard mentally and shoved his colonel's authority to forefront. He needed to live, damn it!

Quigley sat up in his seat and started searching the inspector's panel before him. As he looked, he yelled out to the screaming copilot "Get a hold of yourself, Butter! Get your head back in this cockpit right now and take the controls! That's an order, pilot!"

He searched across what he'd thought was the engineer's panel. Ablative shield. Albative shield...gorram, they needed that shield up! He'd hit a bird going cruise speed in his F-17. It hadn't been pretty and darn near shattered the canopy (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/de/F16_after_bird_strike.jpg). He knew he was a dead man if they hit anything going this speed with no windscreen. Anyways, this train was liable to hit more things or get hit more than his small F-17 would. Where the hell was the button, switch, or shiny doodad for the ablative?

~~~~~~~~

In the science car, Diana Scott got none of the interesting, informative audio cues to what was going to befall her, just ear rending noise. she held her hands over her ears and backed into Jacob in an attempt to get away from the sparking, short circuiting monitoring stations and equipment.

Of course, standing when the whole train cracked like a whip wasn't good at all. In the dim red glow, Diana screamed as she was catapulted into the far wall. She'd barely hit and fell into a pile at the base of the bulkhead when she was thrown to the other side of the train. She screamed louder, shrilly. Her laptop bag and purse were flung from her. She just screamed as she collided with other wall, a stabbing firestorm of pain roared up her spine.

As the train shook violently, Kevin was grasping his safety belt to lock into place when he was thrown into the seats in front of him. After he fell half into his old seat and half on the ground, he tried to get back in when another violent kick sent him into the ceiling, his head hitting with a dull thump.

Eyes. They were the first thing that Kevin saw as he awoke. As focused returned to his own sight, he screamed as he saw they were attached to a corpse; the annoying reporter from earlier. She was twisted upside down, her body impaled on a metal spike that jutted from the flooring. Kevin tried to slid back, but found himself wedged in by something.

He twisted on the ground, he could see the seats were resting upon his body, above them were a pile of debris from the rooftop. The seats had been somewhat of a shield. Kevin managed to twist his body out from his enclosure. It was then he noticed the pain.

His head throbbed, his hair was damp from blood that issued from a cut over his right ear. Kevin's ears rang and his body hurt, but he was okay. He could hear something over the ringing. Like someone shouting. Still on the ground, he turned down the train, he could hear someone.

"H..." Kevin gagged and hacked from the sore throat before he could try to shout. "Hey! HE...Here!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Butter! Get your head back in this cockpit right now and take the controls! That's an order, pilot!"

It wouldn't be until later that Matt figured out why she was screaming. The shattered canopy had obviously been coated with an anti UV, for now the nearly blinding sunlight was pouring in unfiltered, Tammara was disentigrating, but unnaturally so for a vampire of her age and powers, yet still she was. And in seconds was naught but a pile of ashes.

Then it caught his eye as one last flare from Ath's corpse lit the enhgineers station.

Right as the train came to a suddden sighing stop
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the science car Jacob would have been pleased to know that he saved Diana's life. She landed onh him, his corpse becoming a human shield and cushion for her... Then all was still. She was the only one alive.

In the cockpit all was quiet as a...well it was cliche and awful but well, a tomb. Quigley sat there for a moment. Tamaara's screams had stopped because she was pile of dust due to the sunlight poring into the cockpit. He swept his eyes across the cockpit. Lucien was also a cascade of dust that blew out in small dust devils as the wind came through the shattered viewport. He finished his sweep with the engineer's charred body. Ath's to ashes and dust to dust, he thought reverently and irrevently at the same time,

He freed himself from his crash restraints and got up from the inspector's station. He could feel a few bruises and aches forming from getting slammed around up here, but he was otherwise unscathed. He pushed back his long coat and drew his pistol from his holster. He held it low and securely in a firm, two handed grip. Quigley slid between the two rear crew stations and edged around the dust pile in the pilot's seat to peer out the viewport to get a better idea for what he'd gotten into.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana groaned as she came to, momentarily knocked out by the whipcracking she'd been put through. She stirred. It felt as if everything was on fire, and she could feel as though she was on top of someone. She apologize and moved to roll of who she'd landed on. She turned around and saw Jacob. She was about thank him for catching her when she saw his neck canted at an impossible angle.

She screamed and crabwalked away from him as fast as she could. She bumped into a station and then a leg. Diana looked over and saw the one busy female scientist that had spared moment to greet her. The poor woman's head was nearly stove in.

Diana backed away from the woman, looking around wildly. She was surrounded by corpses. Dead ungazing eyes staring at her, shocked frightened. Their mouths open in silent, ended screams. Diana took a quick gulp of air, trying to hold down the rising bile in her throat. She managed to hold down her stomach but not her screams. Her voice cracked as she keened shrilly, maddly.

The first cry heard came from the young kid, to whom Hans approached first. He came into the kid's line of sight, nodding to him. He knew that his exoskeleton might cause the kid to freak out a second, but his expose face would calm him hopefully.

"Gotcha kid." Hans muttered as he surveyed the debris piled atop the young man. Satisfied with his estimate that nothing was of critical structural need where it was now, he began to pull apart the debris, tossing it out a nearby broken window. Heavy pieces of metal and debris that would've taken two men to remove, were easily tossed aside by him. At last, he lifted the broken seat off the kid, the last of the items to cover him.

"Are you hurt?" Hans asked as he knelt down. "Stay still. Let me check your bones." His hand ran down the kid's spine, then checked his legs for skeletal abnormalities. "Anything?" he asked again.

Kevin could see a shape coming through the haze, it looked vaguely human, the head was certainly human...the rest though... Kevin was too disoriented to pay much attention as the man helped free the last few inches of his body. He laid very still as the man instructed as he felt the powerful hands checking his back and legs.

"No...I got a cut or something..." Kevin's free hand touched the side of his head where his hair was matted to his skull from the blood that seeped from a gash just above his ear. "...just need a bandage..."

He looked at the man, Kevin's eyes tried to focus. "You know what happened?"

Turning the kid's head aside to take a look at the wound, Hans gave a chuckle, "Kid, you're lucky that's all you got. I wouldn't worry about it. It's a mild cut." He looked around, then ripped a piece of a shirt nearby from a dead corpse. It was clean enough, and this, he used to bind around the kid's head. "There. Now all you need is an eyepatch, and you've got the pirate theme going for ya."

He then helped him to his feet, turning around to survey the rest of the car. It hardly was recognizable as a car at this point. A galley nearby was blocked by some debris, to which Hans took the initiative to shift aside and peer beyond it for any survivors.

His eyes rested upon the reporter he had met earlier, the same one known as Hawke.

"Oh hell." he muttered as he bent to check her pulse and tap her lightly on the cheek, "Hawke? Wake up. Hawke..."

"Hawke? Wake up. Hawke..."

"What mountain fell on me?" I mumbled, or maybe just thought I did. I still couldn't see, or move mostly. "The mountain is still on me." Things faded to grey for a time then in the spate of awareness, I recognised the voice calling my name.

"Balran? Get this mountain off of me. I can't move." I think maybe I panicked for a moment, burt then again I might just be dreaming it all.

Quigley slid between the two rear crew stations and edged around the dust pile in the pilot's seat to peer out the viewport to get a better idea for what he'd gotten into.


(( Quigley sat on the windscreen's frame, knocking out a few shards. He accepted a cup of coffee while he waited for his next scene. Too bad about those crew guys. Such a short parts, he hoped they had good agents, because they were probably going to be buried in the credits. But, hey, that's showbiz for ya. ))

OOC: Smacks Quigley for his impertence of going on break before the stage dressers can get the massive scenery flats in place and the holodiorama up...

They definitely weren't in mountains any longer, in fact they were in what seemed to be the entirely other end of the spectrum. The air held the more than faint efluvia of rotting plants, and the control cab seemed half submerged in oozing muck. It had ended up upright as had the car immediately behind it. The third and fourth cars, while amazingly still attached had come to rest on their sides, the third car on it's left, the fourth and last car - the science car - on it's right.

Nope, as far as the good Colonel's eyes could see this seemed to be a quintessential swamp. Though there was something off even about that. That may have been - after he had considered the evidence for a few moments - due to a secondary smell, one that was at odd's with rotting plant life and the occasional decaying catfish or gar.. No this was the smell of burnt plastics and dead bodies. Though he could not even from his vantage point, see where the odor was coming from. The half waterlogged clearing they were in had too many trees and dense scrub brush ringing it and obscuring any thing more distant than about a hundred feet - and that was being generous.

Quigley frowned. A swamp? How the hell did they end up in a swamp? He didn't recall a swamp along their route. He glanced around. He didn't want to smell. Swamps smelled bag. It was a no-brainer, but it was hard not to when the stench threatened to strangle you. Rotting trees, rotting catfish...lovely. He smelt the burning plastic and dead corpses, but hey he was in a cockpit with, guess what? Burning plastic from the short circuited control panels and Ath's smouldering corpse.

The Catawaban stepped back from the viewport and edged back to what had been Lucien's seat. He reached down into the pile of wafting ash, mumbled an apology, and picked up the pilot's head set. He placed the ear piece close to his and angled the mic towards him. He looked at the microphone for a moment blew hard, trying to blow some of Lucien out of it. He looked down at the panel for the comm's toggle key, thought he saw it, and pressed his Glock's barrel down on it. "Mayday, mayday. This is the Hypersonic Train out of Tarlachia. We have experience horrible systems failures, lost the flight crew, and are currently...stuck in a swamp somewhere. We require assistance and probably medical aid. I repeat. This is the Hypersonic Train out of Tarlachia, I am declaring an emergency Mayday situtaion."

Quigley pulled his gun barrel off the comm toggle to listen for an answer. He idly wiped at the bleeding crease on his cheek with the back of his hand.

~~~~~~

Diana was still not enjoying the rather tomb-like atmosphere of the science car. Her hosts had let the occasion die off and had grown quite stiff and unyielding about that.

Kevin's head was spinning as he felt the bandage wrap around his head. He looked around the interior of the car, everything was in disarray and barely anything was in place. He turned his head as he saw the man who had helped him go over to a woman pinned underneath something. Kevin turned around and stumbled towards the back of the car.

He could see the car immediately behind the one he was in was in was laying on its side as he got to the back door. Grasping the handle of the door, the young man rattled it and jarred it loose. As the door fell open, the pungent odor of the outside swept in. Kevin gagged, it reminded him of his old High School biology class. He moved into the small connection portal and jimmied the other door open.

"Hello?"

It was silent in the car. From the few lights that remained on, Kevin could see twisted human forms amongst the machinery, motionless. There was no build up, no time, Kevin just felt the acidic bile rush up his throat and out his mouth. He vomited several times before he felt his stomach was purged. Kevin looked around the car, with apparently no one alive, he was going to head back when he saw a door at the rear of the car.

Steeling himself, he clambered into the train car, being careful not to slip on the vomit, and started to make his way to the back. He made a concerted effort to avoid the bodies he came across, by their uniforms, they were the staff. Kevin reached the back door and as he grasped the handle, the door fell from its hinges. Jumping back, he let go and let the door fall.

Climbing into the connection area, the door in the final car was gone, Kevin looked inside. He could see banks of computers and sensors. He looked on the ground, more bodies. Kevin took a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Hang on." Hans replied as he gripped the fallen debris off Hawke. It was jammed in well enough, and it took a bit more physical destruction on his part to pry the debris free at last and toss it aside. He then knelt down to check her wounds, a firm hand on one shoulder to hold her down. She watched as he checked her limbs and body for serious open wounds or broken bones.

Satisfied now, he released her and helped her to her feet. "Come on...let's get out of here and get some help." He slung one of her arms over his shoulder, "You'll have quite the story to tell now." he said lightly, although he knew the situation was anything but humorous.

They emerged out the side of the car further on down the way, and it was here, when they saw the water seeping into the wreckage that Hans knew something was off. It wasn't lake water, or ocean water, but a mottled brackish water. The air here was stronger with the pungent odor that was common to swamplands.

"What the hell? There's no swamps in Tarlachia." he muttered as he surveyed the wilderness surrounding them. "Where in the hell are we?"

The science car lay in darkness as it listed heavily to the right. At the far right wall, the bodies had slid down and piled at the foot of the wall, just as they had on the left side of the car Kevin had just left.

No voice answered Kevin's the the dead silence. Only a slight whimper and muffled words from the pile of corpses disturb the stillness.

Kevin sat motionless and listened. At first he heard nothing, then the sound of muffled speech caught his attention. Almost falling into the science car, Kevin moved towards the sound. As it grew louder, he froze as he came upon a pile of corpses, the person calling out for him buried underneath.

Kevin stood there and stared at the bodies, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to touch them, but there was a person underneath. Looking around, he failed to see anything to help him, without options, he turned back to the corpses and swallowed. Grasping the wrist of a man, he tugged, the body shifted slightly, Kevin tugged again and again, the body moving away. Putting himself away from the wall (which was once the ceiling), he started walking down the length of the car, the body slowly coming off with him.

Dropping it as soon as it was fully removed from the pile, Kevin wiped his hands against his pants and ran back over to the pile. There was a woman there, she was alive and seemed -at least to him- okay, despite being lodged in with bodies.

"Hey miss, you hurt?"

I could have laughed when Balran mentioned stories to tell, but my ribs hurt and the best I could do is give him a thankful look for getting me out of the train car. It hurt to move, as if an over entheusiastic massuer had attempted to pummell my muscles into submission. I didn't ask about other survivors, remembering well what dead bodies looked like and these had met all the requirements. But maybe in the other cars?

I knew I was in psychological shock, and that when it wore off I'd probably be a basket case for a while.

There was something even more off to the swamp smell for Hans. And while there was swamp in the southern parts of Blue Anthem, and more in the Black Marshes of Argonia which should have lain even further to the south by more than a thousand miles, this had a different smell, one that brought back very bad memories for Hans...

"Where in the hell are we?"

I looked about slowly, savoring being able to wipe the gunk - mostly blood but comprised of other things as well- perhaps honey, as thats what the color-where it was unadulterated by my blood - suggested and the taste in my mouth confirmed - out of my eyes and see.

"I..I don't know... this shouldn't be here, or we shouldn't be here though" I felt disoriented, as if something else wasn't right and I couldn't put my finger on it.

I had sat on the top step - well mostly he had put me here -and now tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't support me "We might ought to go check the other cars for more survivors" I tried again to stand but my kneees were still jelly. I looked up at him, embarrasement stining my dirty cheeks. "Evcept that my legs are so much mush/"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And the sky was getting darker fast, as if they were falling into night with a quickness that was unsetteling.

Mayday, mayday. This is the Hypersonic Train out of Tarlachia. We have experience horrible systems failures, lost the flight crew, and are currently...stuck in a swamp somewhere. We require assistance and probably medical aid. I repeat. This is the Hypersonic Train out of Tarlachia, I am declaring an emergency Mayday situtaion."

There was no reply but the soft hiss of static, then something, perhaps a reply, but it was faint and the static roared louder - a language unfamiliar , harsh and unsettleing.

Quigley frowned at the headset. What the hell language was that? He pressed the gun barrel down on the comm toggle. "Okay, joker, hear what I'm speakin'? It is also the language by which I listen, English, internationally agreed language of flight and transportation in general. Why don't you reply to my Mayday in English now? Because we can do it all day in your language or once in mine."

He pulled his gun off the toggle switch and waited. "Gorram, it's like we 'ported to France or something...ruttin' foreign ATC." The Catawaban pilot muttered under his breath.

~~~~~~~~~~

Diana's eyes widened seeing the dark shape standing over her. In the darkness, her addled mind filled in the necessary variables of who or what he was. A conjured image of a monster, who ever did this, appeared in her mind's eyes self-imposing itself over reality. Diana Scott screamed and tried to back away from Kevin.

Kevin jumped himself as the woman started to scream. It was the last thing he would have suspected, but at least it showed she was still alive. His first instinct was to reach out and grab her to calm her down, but that seemed far too dangerous and probably would only exacerbate the situation. Course, she could always be hurt and her movements could injure her more and holding her down to prevent further injury might be the best option. Instead, he stood a few paces back, his hands out and open. Kevin's voice had a slight air of desperation to it.

"Hey hey hey hey...its okay...its okay...you're going to be okay."

"Okay, joker, hear what I'm speakin'? It is also the language by which I listen, English, internationally agreed language of flight and transportation in general. Why don't you reply to my Mayday in English now? Because we can do it all day in your language or once in mine."

The harsh, hissing language faded in and out but never once did it seem to truly respond to any of Matt' attempts at communication. After a few minutes it faded and no matter what he did he was unable to tune in on it again...

But he could also see that the light outside the train was fading rapily...

Diana shook her head, curling into a fetal postion. "No no no no no...like Charlie...I killed them....my work...like Charlie." She rocked herself slightly. She should have been faster. She should have taken her seat. She should have figured it out. They were all dead. Jacob, nice Jacob, cute Jacob, dead, dead, dead. Like Charlie, they were dead.

~~~~

Quigley cursed under his breath. He wished he had a small cairn terrier to inform that they weren't in Kansas any more. Not that Quigley knew where Kansas was or if it existed, but it felt right. He laid the headset down on console. He looked up at the waning light. He couldn't raise anyone on the radios, and if this thing had teleported even any where in the region let alone anywhere in the...world? Universe?

It gave him a headache to think about. He moved around to the other side of the the pilot's station. They'd need this train to be in top condition or at least the best it could manage if they were going to be rescued. He started to run through the shut down procedures, basically the start up procedures he'd watched in reverse.

As he moved between stations careful not to step in someone or touch any charred crew, he did spot small arms. That'd make sense. Tanaara was a heavily armed nation, that shared Catawaba's emphasis on self-reliance and self-defense. As he moved through the checklist that brought him to APUs and the copilot's station, he saw Tammara's pistol. He leaned down and dusted some of Tammara off the semi-automatic. He drew it from its holster and ejected the magazine. He raised an eyebrow and looked at the ash pile at his feet. "Quite a cocktail you carried, sweetheart. Silver, holywater, and wolfsbane? "

He was slightly jealous of her. Well not of how she was now, but what she'd had. He managed only one silver bullet, but with him that was usually enough. He replaced the magazine and tucked the pistol back inside his coat. He sifted through Tammara and found her spare magazine. He blew the copilot out of her magazine and checked it. This one was conventional rounds. He slipped that into his coat as well.

He finished shutting down all the checklist on the copilot's station. He glanced over at the engineer's panel, thinking about that for a moment. He wrinkled his nose. He'd check Lucien to see if he'd been packing, and then finish the checklist from the inspector's station. He edged down to the pilot's seat. He had to see where it had slid when they'd bounced around, but he pulled it out from under one of the rudder pedals. He brushed the Lucien off it and whistled lowly. "A Tanaaran K5 Personal Defense Weapon. Sorry, I didn't get know ya, buddy boy. You were a man near to my heart."

Quigley holstered his Glock and shifted the K5 over to his other hand. He sifted through Lucien and pulled out a second long magazine for the K5. He slid that into his jacket. He didn't know where it all went when he put stuff into his coat. He could throw off the coat right now, and it would float lightly to the ground even though he'd put a gun and two different magazine into it. He'd also slipped paperclips, a screwdriver, a laundry load of dryer lint, and a few other odds in ends, but he'd never find them until it was important. Or embarrassing, that was the other caveat.

He sighed and moved back to the inspector's station to complete the shut down. He turned off everything besides power to the interior lights. If anyone was alive back there, they'd appreciate what light was left. And if they were all dead, Quigley'd appreciate all the light he could get.

Quigley checked the PDW's ammo and flipped off its safety before moving to rear cockpit door. He got finger tips in the jamb and hauled it open. He stepped between the engine and the main car, wrenching that door open as wel. With the PDW firmly gripped, Quigley scanned the charnel house that was the passenger car. He spied the Tanaaran doctor's bodied. He didn't see Diana, the young kid, the spook, or the reporter.

He moved back towards the rear of the car, silent as the dead.

Hawke's words were all but falling on deaf ears. She watched as Hans cautiously stepped forward, sinking to his waist in the brackish waters. His head turned this way and that, and the glimpses of his face that she caught would only reveal a deep fear. Hans' facial armor suddenly surrounded his head completely as he settled into an aggressively defensive posture.

His words slipped from the exoskeleton, reaching Hawke with a bone chilling tone, "Hawke, get inside...now."

His vision shifted from lens to lens, seeking the unseen threat he had nearly forgotten about, the very threat that had spawned the monster he had become. He retreated his steps back to the car, lifting Hawke like a lightweight and forcibly moving her inside the destroyed train. Once inside, he wrenched a large sheet of metal to cover the opening. He turned to her a moment later, his tone authorative, even fearful to an extent, although both were overlaid with a heavy dose of hostile anger. She likely wouldn't understand, but yet she would by the tone in his voice.

"Keep hidden. I've got to find the other survivors and gather them before they come."

And with that, he was gone, swiftly moving through the devastated train cars, making his way to where Quigley had been earlier making attempting to make communication efforts. Bursting into the car, Hans looked around, seeing that someone had already shut down the train's now unnecessary functions, leaving only the emergency lighting. A glance around showed a lot of ashes, and the smell of burnt flesh was well known to Hans. Instantly, Hans closed in and smashed the communications equipment beyond repair with powerful blows of his arms. It wouldn't do to have anyone unwittingly drawing attention to the train's location.

As quickly as he had done this, he turned now to depart the car, moving quickly in search of survivors.

Kevin stared at the woman in confusion, she was obviously delirious or probably even insane. He would need some help to get her out. Giving her one last look, he turned and moved back down the destroyed cars. Scrambling through the chaos, he paused by his old seat. Looking between the collapsed chairs, he could see his bookbag. Kevin made a note to grab it when he got help.

Continuing forward, he looked for any signs of the man who had helped him. He heard a voice somewhere up ahead, familiar. Kevin hurried on to the front car, as he climbed inside the connection area, he could see two human shapes in the low light.

"Hey! I need some help in the back! Some woman is totally outta her gord!"

"Keep hidden. I've got to find the other survivors and gather them before they come."

I wasn't seeing things I realized, he had some sort of ...armor?

I gasped as Balran lifted me as effortlessly as if I weighted no more than a child. "What in the hell is going one and who the hell are 'they'...and where the hell are we. The only swamps in Tanaara are at the souther end, and we were going north..." I called to his retreating back.

My head hurt too much for me to do more than fume, as he never even stopped to answer me.

"Hey! I need some help in the back! Some woman is totally outta her gord!"

I looked around at tha, noting that it was Kevin Callahan, and he looked not to badly injured. "What are you talking about?" I asked then stopped to listen."

If I listened hard enough I could fainly hear a screaming....

"And you just left her?" I snapped and tried to stand. My legs when every which way and my head spun. I held my breath for a moment and gave a short bark of laughter when I deidn't start vomiting. Then I began heading for the rear of the train, though I knew what I'd find there was going to be horribly unpleasant...but that was no reason to not go. Some one needed help.

Quigley had nearly been pushed out of the way as an armored...thing brushed past him. It hadn't tried to kill him, so that gave good odds that it wasn't hostile. But good odds weren't a certainty. He should have known that, but he got distracted as the kid rushed in, panicing about an insane woman. He'd lay really good odds that the woman was Dr. Scott.

The reporter beat him to angry retort he wanted to give. She started staggering towards the rear of the train. Quigley moved to follow her when he heard the horrid sound of expensive, momentarily irreplaceable things breaking. Quigley cursed and turned around, returning the way he came.

He saw armored figure coming out of the cockpit. Quigley raised the PDW to his shoulder and sighted in on the thing's head. "Hold, or I drop you." His voice carried that snap of military authority.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana shook has she sat curled. She pressed her face into her knees, shivering, shuddering. Her words had lapsed beyond sense into a realm that made sense only to her.

Hans turned his eyes as a cold voice met him. Seeing the gun aimed at him, Hans couldn't help but laugh. Never once did he stop advancing. He did speak aloud though, "Mr. Quigley, I assure you of three things. One: You cannot hurt me with that gun." He stepped over several dead bodies, still advancing. "Two: There are much worse things out there right now than me." He halted now right in front of Quigley, the gun pressed against his chest. He never stopped speaking, "Three: You're going to want me around to deal with them because against them, your gun will do absolutely nothing except piss them the fuck off."

And with that said, he reached up and pushed the gun away from his chest. "Now, I need your help, macho man. We need to get the survivors out of here, to somewhere safe, and I know just the place."

He looked over to the young kid, whose eyes were wide as saucers. "Kid. Stop staring. You'll hurt your eyes."

I turned around so fast I went to my knees but somehow managed Not to throw up - pat me on the back proud of that...

"Oh both of you stop that testosterone driven brinkmanship right this moment. We have some one who needs your help, and I almost need it..." I snapped as I grimly pulled myself to my feet. That just made the pounding in my head worse.

"Please" I couldn't help how plaintive my voice sounded, and I hadn't intended to utter it but my knees had gone again and I was sagging.

Hans realized that Quigley had fallen silent, perhaps unsure of what to do. He turned and cast his gaze upon the kid, the kid whose eyes even in the dim, broken lighting, could be seen as wide, almost panicked.

Glancing to Quigley and Hawke, he scooped up Hawke easily, "Come on. I doubt there's many of us left." He looked over at Kevin. "Where is she?" he demanded with a sense of impatience.

And in the midst of those thoughts about getting everyone out of there, a single thought broke free and hovered in his mind.

Kaylinde

He froze, realizing now in full clarity what might very well have happened here. Had she been brought to this nightmare of a world as well? Or, was this just a bad dream, a really bad dream for him, and in reality, the train ride was still enroute, still on the tracks with absolutely no problems.

What then, was real, and what was not?

"Hey Balran, are you okay?" I aksed sharply when he froze, like an android whose power source had just cut out.

He didn't seem to hear me, and I looked about trying to see if he saw something that I had missed.

But what caught my eyes, and sent them flying wide he couldn't have seen, unless that strange armor gave him eyes in the back of his head. The Colonel from Catawaba was becoming a ghost, fading from view right before my very eyes.

I must have cried out in horror - Balran jerked and spun about just in time to see the last of the Catawaban. The gun the now vanished man had been holding clattered to the floor...or so it sounded like as I tried to turn in Balran's arms to see behind me.

An audible groan escaped him as he watched the Catawaban fade from sight. "Oh man..." He looked over at Hawke shaking his head, "I really hate these kind of dreams..." he said quietly, although he knew he had never had anything as vivid, as realistic as this one was. The fine line between reality and imaginary was way too blurred now. He really wasn't sure what to think.

"Come on. We can't help him now." Hans said suddenly, his mind having apparently returned to survival mode. He nudged Kevin out the train. "Head northwest. I'm pretty sure that where we need to go is that way."

He glanced down at Hawke, who was using him as a human crutch. He saw the questioning look on her face and answered it before she could voice it. "There's a military base that way. We can get some help, perhaps some weapons."

Returning his gaze to the path in front of them, he spoke almost silently, "Assuming we're not too late."

Hawke frowned at Hans as she heard him mutter..

I really hate these kind of dreams...

"I wish this was a dream, but I think it's all too real" She sighed

"Assuming we're not too late."

"Yes but first we got to go get the lady in the rear car, the kid just left there. Sheesh trust a GeeSeer to just..." She shot the kid a dirty look and freeing herself from Balran shakily made her way back through the nect couple of cars. She noted as she did so that she could hear the woman's cries more clearly nowm for the door to the last car hand closed all the way.

Hawke didn't know what she would have done if it had jammed, but it oopened easily enough, and while the lighting was very poor she could make out the young woman who had been with the now vanished Colonel Quigley.

Then she was knocked on her rump as the young woman tackled her, clutching her, pleading "I failed them, I failed them"

The breath waws knocked out of her for a long minute but wehn she could talk she bent her actions to soothing the sobbing traumatized girl.

"It's okay, It wasn't your fault" She repeated over and over in a what she hoped was a calming tone. Finally she remembered the name she'd over heard "It's okay Diana. It was an accident Diana. It's okay""

Kevin didn't know what to do, his eyes shot to the ground as the injured woman named Hawke scorned him for leaving the woman in the rear car. What could he do? Just sit down back there and hope that someone from the front would come to the back to look for them? Going for help was the only thing he knew.

Looking in the direction that that Hans was pointing, Kevin was about to head out when he remembered his bag in the car. Clamoring back into the train, he rushed back to where his seat was. He heard the voice of Hawke drifting in from the rear of the train, probably found the woman, as he ripped his bag out from under a train seat. Strapping it to his back, he scurried back to the front of the train and climbed out.

His first few steps were on a long strip of metal from the train before it dipped into a pool of vomit colored water. Kevin took a look around, swamp, nothing but swamp. He turned around and faced the train. The twisted mass of metal barely resembled the beautiful craft it was only a few hours before.

Kevin knelt down on the metal and rubbed his arms as a cold breeze came through. He would wait for the others to come out before he headed into the swamp.

The lady from Catawaba eventually calmed down and let a tired Hawke kead her out of the car, and up to where Hans Balran waited. Hawke made no apology for taking so long. It was completely snafued as far as she was concerned, minutes and hours didn't necessarily matter to her at the moment.

But it really hadn't been that long, maybe fifteen minutes or so...

"Okay Balran, you seem to recognise this place. Where in Hell are we?"

Her question was so innocent, so ignorant, so...unjustifiably casual that it made Hans laugh to himself, quietly at first, but then erupting in an almost nonsensical laugh. Suddenly, he silenced himself, and turned to her. His eyes were haunting and foreboding, unafraid, and afraid, angry and calm...everything at once.

"Welcome to my hell." he stated chillingly quietly as he turned away to carefully scan the area again. "When we get out of this place; if we get out; you'll likely become insane, incurable. You'll spout things of such extravagance, such inane impossibilities that the rest of society will have no choice but to simply lock you away and toss the key."

Moving forward, he led them further into the swamp, away from the destruction behind them. He knelt suddenly as his foot connected with something gently. Retrieving it from the murky waters, he pulled it free and held it up. It was a skull of an large lizard, a skull easily the size of a man's own, with razor sharp teeth and empty eye sockets.

"Argonia." he stated. "The homeworld of all things Argonian."

He offered the skull to Hawke, which dripped with muddy swamp water, several unidentifiable water plants torn free of the swamp and hanging limply within the skull's crevices. The skull appeared old, as if it had been sitting there for a long time, awaiting it's discovery at this precise moment.

He twirled a finger around in the air, "Listen. Nothing natural lives anymore. No birds, no animals, nothing but what remains of the Argonians, their allies...and the Devilish."

"The homeworld of all things Argonian."

"You mean were down in the Black Marsh?" Hawke blurted then though on all he'd said "How in the hell did we get off planet?" She askedf slwoly as she took the smelly dripping skull.

"That's just not...possible?" She said with more hope that confidence as she dropped the bones back into the swamp.

"Listen. Nothing natural lives anymore. No birds, no animals, nothing but what remains of the Argonians, their allies...and the Devilish."

Hawke took a good look around, unable to suppress a shudder "And just what are the Devilish?"

Hans watched as the skull was released back to its marshy grave, hanging his head slightly as he mulled over her questions. Looking back up to her, then skyward for a moment as the sunlight parted clouds and briefly breached the thick canopy above to glint off his facial armor, he spoke matter-of-factly.

"We came through a portal, most likely malfunctioning, and we are all either actually transported through some complex explanation of time and space travel...or, we're dead, and our spirits are in hell. My hell perhaps."

To this, he gave a scoff. "But, you see...I don't believe in hell, and I'm more inclined to believe that we, or at least myself, would have had the sheer willpower and capability to hold onto life in any case. I've been through a hell of a lot worse than a simple train wreck."

The progress through the marshes was resumed again as he spoke some more, this time addressing the other question. "The Devilish are a race. An ugly race hell-bent on conquering all others and forcing them to either submit to their rule, or die. Well advanced into what some might call "futuristic technology", well trained in combat...and torture."

At this point, he paused again, looking at Hawke. "I've seen them do their torture. I'd rather go through hell than see that again." He was vague, but there was a chance she would understand by the tone of his voice. His low growl, barely audible after that commentary, was quick and yet furious. Speaking again, his voice was normal as it had been, "They killed people I knew through that torture, killed those whom I called my brethen."

His shield removed from his face so she could see his eyes, which at this point were stunningly enflamed with passion and fury. "They don't just torture and kill the body. They have ways to kill the soul, and they are fuckin' excellent at that. They hate everything that it means to be human, see it as weak, disposable."

He turned away, his armor returning to cover his face again. "Little did they know just how strong humans can be."

He paused a dozen yards from the edge of the marshlands. From here, they could see a military enclosure up ahead, raised on planted solid earth, enshrouded by the marshland forest surrounding. It was a moderately sized base, complete with invisible lethal laser wire fencing as well as the standard visible barb wire electrical fence.

He indicated that they not continue, and with a kick of the marsh water upward, a brief portion of the laser fence was seen suddenly, only a few feet from where he stood. It seemed to stand of its own accord, with no visible emitters or technology. There was a slight hissing as the water connecting with the lasers hissed. To further illustrate the danger, he picked up some floating wood nearby and also tossed it through the complex laser grid. They watched as the lasers effortlessly shredded the wood.

"Laser fencing. Only one entrypoint, but it shifts on an hourly basis, for security reasons. Even if you were to find it, you'd need an authorized digital chip implanted in your arm to bypass the lasers. Then, you approach the metal fence, and stick your hand in one of several chip readers scattered about the perimeter. That scans another portion of the same chip, as well as biometric data."

He sighed, "Problem was...the Devilish employed a simple means to bypass this. Capturing recon patrols, brainwashing their minds and shadowing them into the base. They beat us, killed us, greatly hurt us with the very system we had created. But, they forgot to learn from us on this, and eventually we too did the same, to end the fight."

Hans looked around at the base, and the surrounding area, "But, it seems that our voyage into insanity has taken us to the days before the Devilish assaulted the base and took it over." He shook his head slowly, "Could this be redemption? A chance to change the course of history? Could we stop the Devilish from doing what they did?"

And ever so silently, his last question remained unspoken, Could I become normal again?

He stared down at his armored hand.

Could this be redemption? A chance to change the course of history? Could we stop the Devilish from doing what they did?"

"Balran...Hans!" I spoke sharply as I stared at the combat damaged ruins before me. This was no active military base, and hadn't been in years. The crumbling metal posts before us were barely visable under a layer of tangled vines, and even the buildings were all but buried by over growth. But my trained eyes could well see that this base had come under heavy fire at some point. It had been the scene of some terrible fighting I estimated.

"I don't think who ever was here in the first place managed to stop them. Lets just hope these Devilish aren't still here"

Poor Diana Scott was nearly surgically attached to the Tanaaran reporter. She was quietly murmuring, sobbing to herself. "Where's Quiggy...why isn't he here...protect me he said..."

Behind the group, the sloshing and splashing of someone trying to make their way through the muck could be heard.

I heard it, or I was sure I heard something -and spun about, trying to see just what was making the racket behind us. Miss Scott made that all but impossible however. I was licky we didn't fall, tangled together as we were.

"We didn't miss someone still living? I asked in sudden horror at the thought that some poor soul, knocked unconscious, had been left for dead. In the chaos that all to easily could have happened.

A young woman was sloshing through the muck grumbling to herself. She was dripping wet. Her short brown hair was plastered to her face. Her forest camo BDU trousers were soaked through. Her black shirt could have been glued onto her curves. That was probably a good thing considering the long V-slash in the shirt which revealed a generous portion of her cleavage and a wicked newly healed scar from her throat to her sternum. Good odds would have it that the shirt slash and the scar were caused by thing.

She grumbled on a few more feet until she was jerked to a halt. He turned around a pulled on her long black trenchcoat which had caught on a stump. The trenchcoat was a glossy black, and as she turned her back to tug on the hem of the coat, a wanted poster for someone bared vampiric fangs named Gary Simon could be seen. The woman freed her self, and as she twirled back on course, her coat spun away from her showing the cutlass that hung on her left hip and the Tanaaran PDW Colonel Quigley had dropped hanging by an assault sling under her right arm.

She reached up and cursed as she pushed a soggy lock of brown hair out her deep blue eyes and uncovered a deep scar that travelled down her face very much like the one Colonel Quigley had possessed. She snorted angrily and slowed her pace as she neared the group. "Ain't yer fault ya left. Sure as hell didn't think I was coming back from that."

Kevin's body was shaking, part from the cold, part from fear. There were small swamps back in the Golden Simatar, largest was only a few dozen square miles. The teenager nearly stumbled into Hawke as the group was stopped by the man in the suit named Hans. The skull the man showed them looked like the skull of a dinosaur. Hans explained what the skull belonged to and at the word "homeworld" the Simatarian's mind raced. Hawke however beat him to it.

"How in the hell did we get off planet?"

As he watched the skull slip beneath the water and mire, the new question of what the Devilish were arose. Kevin's eyes darted to Hans, the boy listened intently as the man talked. Kevin could feel his heart slam into his ribcage as Hans went on with his story, his head twisting around and around, looking for signs of the monsters he spoke of. Now, more than ever, he wanted to get out of there.

The sight of the military base lightened Kevin's mood and seeing there was still power only added to his joy. Power would equal inhabitants and they might be able to escape. Hans' words of time travel however dashed Kevin's hopes. He looked over to the man, Kevin's voice was shaking, it was obvious he was trying to grab at the hope that was slipping away.

"Wait...wait wait wait. Your saying we're not on Earth, we're on some planet in some swamp and we also went back in time? If we did, can't you just call out to the people in the base and..."

He stopped as splashing was heard. Biting his lips, Kevin knelt down in the grass, turning towards the sound, waiting to see what it was. An Aragonian? Survivor? Some swamp creature out of a Lovecraftian nightmare ready to devour them?

Peering through the grass, Kevin could make out the human shape moving towards them. Human, woman. Kevin slowly stood as he stared at the sight, she moved around with a trenchcoat and sword. The teenager looked at the woman in a dazed and confused manner.

"Who...who who are you?"

The young woman, perhaps eighteen, spitted the young GSer with her deep blue eyes. "I'm a frickin' wizard, and I've come to you at the gorram turn of the blasted tide. I was once called Matthew the Blue, now I'm chakkar'la Mathilda the Earth Toned." She spat out quietly but testily.

Kevin backed up slightly as the woman...no....girl....she looked only slightly younger than he was...spoke. Her words were confusing to him, however the stress of the crash, the blood, the swamp, talk of horrific alien monsters and now a strange girl with a gun...Kevin could only find himself moving backwards and slightly closer to the group.

Kevin nodded furiously to her words and tripped slightly over something buried in the water...bones was his first thought...but it gave him enough of a jolt to break him from the trance he had been in.

"Were you...on the....ah...tra..."

Kevin simply shut up, he was too nervous to get much of a clear sentence moving through his head.

"Wait...wait wait wait. Your saying we're not on Earth, we're on some planet in some swamp and we also went back in time? If we did, can't you just call out to the people in the base and..."

"Those laser fences are self powered. This is not trip back in time. Look at the place" Hawke had waved an arm at the overgrown long disused military encampment.

She half hoped that her delayed answer might snap both the now double weird Tarlachian and the close to loosing it GeeEsser out of their individual funks.

"So Matty the dull as dirt, where did you come from if not the train. Swamps don't have tides." Well she was pretty sure they didn't. Tanaara had as few swamps as Golden Simatar did - but she had helped cover the Black Marsh war in Argonia - the Argonia she knew of,l not this one on some planet well lost in space.

Faining was looking as more and more of an attractive proposition, but she knew that A - she had no intent of fainting in a swamp, and worse B- she wasn't the fainting sort. No she was the take charge and get things done and solved sort, the sleep can come later sort, just like the rest of my life can come later while I sort every oneelses problems out sort. Why me? Why can't I meant a nice group, fall in love with them all and get happily married? She asked her self as she swung around giving the swamp and the moldering buildings another once over. Because finding even one who can handle my life is impossible, finding more? Not with my luck

Mattie turned her glare on Hawke. "Swamps have tides, especially coastal ones like mangrove swamps, but that's not important right now." She stopped for a moment, trying to reckon why she'd gone on that tangent. Perhaps it was because this was going to be hard to explain, and the Tarlachian didn't seem to be one to accept rationality.

But when in doubt father always said to, "I don't know how I got here. There was a flash of light and I landed in this rottin' osik hole." It was weak, father would be ashamed. Mother would be furious at her lies.

Hawke just nodded, "Ours was a little more spectacular, and sadly fatal to most of our companions. We're all thats left" She tried to make a gesture to encompass the other three but Diana had become intangled in the coat Hawke had tossed over her shoulders and wouldn't let go of her hands.

Hawke turned to the young scientist who's struggles were growing frantic, and quickly she she took the heavy coat in hand and lifted it off of her. "Diana, Diana" She said coaxingly "There it's alright, see you're free now. It's okay"

She looked over at the Tarlachian, Balran, and her voice was firm "We are getting out of this swamp now. Fry that fence or I will!"

"Fry the fence, will you?" Hans retorted with a scoffing laugh. "Good luck with that, since you know NOTHING about such fences!" He exhaled and turned away, but not before holding a hand out for them to remain where they were. Lest they be fried themselves.

Switching his view to infrared, he scanned the area and walked about the perimeter of the field for a long while. At times, he disappeared from sight from the others but reappeared as the swamp gave way to his location once more. He was circling carefully, searching for what he knew the Devilish might plant as a last case scenario of nasty surprises. At the same time, he sought for the entryway, finding it some time later in a tangle of vines and tall moss covered trees. Searching the immediate area he soon found a nearly naturally invisible-yet-visible loop covered by vines, and knew it to be the "keyhole". Inserting his arm, he waited as a soft hum took place and finally the laser grid in front of him protecting the entryway, disengaged.

He entered, and turned just in time to see the grid reappear.

Now, he shifted his attention to the ground to scan for submerged explosives and the like. It wouldn't do to have the others gain entry, but die just inside the so-called "safe zone." Satisfied after some time, he returned to the entry and departed, soon to return to the others. However, in his hands, he carried a number of unused explosives, primed for detonation but disarmed by him.

"Come with me, and make sure you follow in my steps. The entryway still works, but we risk stepping on mines or other explosives." He waved a hand full of such to them, before taking a bag from Hawke and putting them in there. "We can use these if we need to." was all he said, before turning and leading them back to the entryway. As they approached, he halted and spoke to them. "This entryway is for single person use only, and I have the only chip amongst us. So, I'll have to take you each in, one at a time."

His gaze shifted between them all from behind the exoskeletal mask. "Who's first?"

Mattie glanced at two women huddled together and the young man. All of them were barely standing and holding it together. She looked back at the at the laser fence and the ruined military installation beyond. Sadly, this was like an average day in her life in a new venue. She sighed and swung the PDW she'd salvaged from the train near which she'd appeared in this place.

She checked to ensure the safety was off. "Hell, I'll go." She looked around the group. "Any of ya got ammo for this thing?" A precursory glance gave her doubts that any of them would be carrying a mini assualt rifle like this PDW. She locked onto the brown coat thrown over the shoulders of the short, mousy woman clinging to the gal with thin veneer of bravado. "How about you, sweetie? That looks a like a military overcoat, if I've ever seen one."

Diana pouted pitifully. "It was...it was..." She began sobbing again. Mattie frowned and pulled Diana from the other woman. She hugged her, quietly shushing her.

"It'll be okay, darlin'." Mattie whispered quietly. With one arm she hugged the woman and the other she searched big overcoat. She first pulled out a handful of lint. She shrugged and put into a pocket of her glossy black duster. She reached in again and pulled another long magazine for the PDW she carried and slipped it into a pocket of her BDU trousers. She reached into the coat one last time and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol.

She stepped back from the Diana, slipping the pistol around into the waistband of her pants at the small of her back. The pitiful scientist saw the pistol, Quigley's .357 Glock, and in a momentary fit of lucidity looked into the coat she was wearing. She didn't see anything and hadn't felt anything. "...hyperdimensional pocket uni...."

Mattie put a finger to Diana's lips sushing her. "Quiet, darling. There'll be enough time for technobabble later, 'kay?" Diana blinked for a moment and nodded. Mattie smiled a little. "You stay here with the nice lady." Diana again nodded. She was calmer now, relieved.

The survivoress turned back to the tall, dark, and unstable doorman. She jerked a thumb towards the ground beyond the laser fence. "How far'd ya clear, skippy?"

Oh, my bag which was weighing me down as much as diana had been had plenty of ammunition - for my 45 and the dueling pistols but not for a PDW, no. I hadn't thought to bring one of my own. But then again as woozy as I was I was lucky to have remembered to grab up my overnighter.

Though not the top of it was filled with grenades courtesy of Balran.

And while no I didn't know about that particular make of laser fence, I had seen similar before - how else did I know they werfe self powered? But I couldn't talk to just anyone about my time on Ares or in Shadow. I was just a reporter.

However I hadfn't seen any one outside of Shadow pull the little trick off that Miss Mattie the tide turner did. Yes I'd noticed the movement of ammo and gun from one supposedly empty coat pocket to another, though I didn't try to over hear the words whispered. But I'd be keeping an eye on her. I was damn certain she hadn't been on the train.

But I was seriously hurting too much to care all that much. The knee that had taken the brunt of the wreck hadn't gotten any respite during the trek though the swamp, and the production of Stomp! ongoing in my head was reaching full battle roar. I was exhausted but not sure if it were safe for me to sleep.

I watched as Mattie took Hans up on his offer.

Kevin watched impatiently as Hans disappeared for a while. How long as he been gone? He looked at his watch, the crystal face had been smashed completely and the metal body was bent slightly inward. It would be cheaper to buy a new one when he got home. Kevin ripped the watch off and chucked it into the water.

Kevin looked over at the new woman named Mattie, she was odd, very strange in the way she was acting. He noticed a glint in her hand as she held onto Diana and it took a few seconds for his brain to digest the woman had just lifted a pistol from Diana. Kevin didn't know much about firearms, the largest weapon he ever shot was a pellet rifle as a boy.

When Hans returned, Kevin felt a wave of relief wash over him as he led them through the swamp towards the entrance. Once they were there and Hans made his offer, Kevin was ready to jump at the chance to get out of the open...however he stopped himself. Now that he had a closer look at the buildings, they took a menacing appearance with the vines and forest now taking them back over. He'd let someone go before him.

When Mattie volunteered to go through first, Kevin looked over at Hawke. The woman was exhausted like the rest of them however now holding a bag bulging with the explosives Hans brought back seemed to sap her strength even more. All he hand in his bookbag were some folders, notebooks and writing utensils. He adjusted his own bookbag on his bag and put a hand on her bag.

"I'll hold onto this if you like."

"Far enough." was all Hans replied as he held out his hand to Mattie. In the back of his mind, he knew something was off about her. It was a hunter's instinct, and the same rule applied as in other situations in life: Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Mattie, fell under neither category at the moment, and so, he felt inclined to put her as a potential enemy.

Without waiting for Mattie to say anything, Hans lifted her effortlessly over his shoulder as if she were a bag of potatoes, scanned the chip in his arm and entered the compound. If she even bothered to try protesting, he'd ignore her. The same would apply to the others. He traveled a few feet before depositing her again, turning back immediately to escort the next person. He however, left a word of caution to Mattie. "Don't move."

Scanning the faces, he then spoke. "You." He pointed toward Diana, waiting for her to step forward, "Quickly now. This place may still have some Devilish about."

Mattie cursed the hulking neanderthal as he swung her up onto his shoulder. Not that her cursing had any effect on him, but it made her feel better. This Balran character was quickly dropping down her list of people she particularly gave a damn for. She glared after him as he dumped her and went back for the unstable Doctor Scott.

Mattie brought the PDW up and scanned the horizon around her. The blasted idiot had put them in a stupid position and hauled her along into before she had a chance to clearify his vague 'far enough.' Far enough was absolute, unconscienable bull. Unless the man was just an asshole, which Mattie was severely considering and hoping, he'd perhaps only cleared a few feet into a damned minefield. That left them in the precarious and potentially fatal position of being stranded in the open backstopped against a barrier that they could only pass through one at a time.

Mattie kept her eyes and the PDW on the horizon but yelled back over her shoulder. "Diana, don't move." Diana, who had take a step towards the Tarlahcian, stopped and shrank back from him. Mattie glanced about again before continuing. "Skippy, why don't we try this again. How far in have you cleared? I will not have you take us all in here, trapping us inside that gorram fence, if you still have to clear our way to cover."

Growling to himself, Hans returned to the gate and entered, and approached Mattie. "Woman, far enough means far enough, but if you don't want to trust me, one of the few survivors of the Devilish assault, then by all means, step outside and be on your way. Know that your weapon here is effectively useless against them. Many of them took fifty cals and rockets without so much as a flinch." That said, he glanced back at the others, all of whom were watching the two of them carefully as they also glanced behind them from time to time.

"The way is clear to the first building. I've not cleared the interior though." was all Hans said next as he returned to Diana and growled to her, "So, Doctor," he began scathingly, "How would you like to die? On your terms, or theirs?"

His hand reached out to her in offering, for a second time.

"Balbuster, Mattie earthbitch stop it, both of you. Now Hans, is there a full mine field in there or what?" Okay so I said it in about the crudest manner I could, but I figured if they were both angry at me, they'd not end up killing one another. And I figured I could take either of them singlely. I didn't get an orphanages worth of childredn out of Tarlachia during the Dazrk War by being a wuss.

Did I mention I get strange when I've got a concussion.

Diana again shrank from the big, scary man. She glanced through the laser fense. An odd thought rang in her head about how a laser grid was visible. It must be fairly foggy in this swamp or the properties of visible light must be different in this reality. She looked worriedly through towards the earthtoned bitch on the other side.

Mattie looked back over her shoulder. "Diana, go with the scary asshole. Scary Asshole, stop frightening her." She still held onto the PDW. Again, this was like any other day in her past. She didn't figure her PDW would do much, but it might slow'em down and ya never know when you might get that one in a million shot. No, she didn't rely on a gun. She hadn't been able to back home, but there'd be time for fireside chats when the group could compare scars and insane looks and figure who'd had it the worst in their past.

I nodded at the call out "He's only scarey to bad people. You're a good people. He protects good people, thats why he looks so bad!" I found myself giggling as I pushed Diana lightly toward Balran.

I then remembered the Gee Esser's offer to hold this damned heavy bag hanging off my shoulder. Sighing I dug through it for my gun belt and the crystal pistols. Ones I'd slung them properly around my hip I handed the deadly duffle to him. "Now I dub thee responsible for all things that go boom"

I felt a little better. That gave me three guns in easy reach. The 45 under my arn and the dueling pistols on my hips.

"Your definition of good differs from mine." replied Hans as he scooped up Diana without much of an issue and safely deposited her to the other side. It wasn't long before he had done the same with the remaining members of their team.

The fence, while lasered was indeed visible on this day thanks to the mists that rolled above the swampy ground. Hans merely glanced around the fence-line and verified for the seven hundreth and sixty ninth time that there was no breach. Turning back to lead the others again, he took point as he led them past the second interior fencing, this one comprised of barbed wire. In one section earlier, he had used his armored finger, sharpened like a knife, to slice through the fence a hole large enough for them to pass through one by one and finally approach the first building previously mentioned. He glanced upward for a moment, before scooping up a stick and tossing it up. It met a thickly created mesh of laser wiring, obviously meant to keep intruders from simply entering the base from above.

At the first building, he approached the thick reinforced steel and concrete blast doors, and inserted his arm into a biometric scanner, which also prompted for several other verification tests including his eyes and even his teeth. Then, with a screeching protest, the blast doors slid open and awaited their entry. The interior was masked in complete darkness. While Hans needed no light to see his path before him, he knew the others would want something, so he indicated they stay at the doors for a few minutes as he disappeared into the dark gloom and reappeared minutes later with four flashlights, all which worked upon initial testing.

Mattie looked at the flashlight in her hand which worked on the first try. She was having a sickening feeling that her presence in this world was having ill effects. In the entrance of apparently ruined and abandoned military facility, four perfectly working flashlights were just lying around?

Yep, this place was going to a doozy, she thought as she unscrewed the endcap of the flashlight. Like any military flashlight, it should have...yes, it did...should have little plastic colored discs, theatrically called gels, that could be put in front of the bulb to color the light. She selected the red gel and slipped the other two, orange and green into a pocket so they might be more useful for later. She rescrewed the endcap and then unscrewed the front cap to place the gel before putting the flashlight back together.

She flicked it on and was pleased at the puddle of red light she had. Diana watched Mattie manipulate her flashlight and followed suit a minute later. She however correctly and obessively put her spare gels back in their designed and intended storage container under the end cap of the flashlight.

As Mattie stepped around the gaping maw of the blast doors, she considered that her presence was having other effects. It was something she called Scheodinger's Law of Inattention. If you looked at something you were absolutely sure what it was and what was around it. If you were to look away, you had no idea what could happen and anything could happen. The overcoat over Diana's shoulders, for instance, it hadn't been there one moment and the next there it was. Then there was the nigh hysterical lady's overnight bag. Until the scary man had returned with his explosive, she'd been unburdened and unaware. Now however, the young man was now carrying the bag.

Yep, this is going to be fuuuun...

Kevin only looked on as Hans argued with Mattie, the Simatarian had to agree with the strange new woman about safety. He didn't want to tread on a land mine and spread across the swamp, though he doubted his father would even care.

When Hawke handed him the bag of explosives, it was heavier than he expected and Kevin grunted slightly as he slid it over his shoulders, carrying his own bag in his hands. He stared oddly at the woman for carrying pistols, it was strange that people would carry firearms on a maiden voyage of a train....almost like they were expecting this sort of trouble. The thoughts were knocked out of his mind when Hans suddenly hoisted him into the air and carried him through the fence.

The boy took extreme care to step in the footprints of those before him as they made their way through the remains of the base. He had watched enjoy History Channel to know this to be the best way to avoid getting hit by a landmine.

As they waited outside of the door for Hans' return, something caught Kevin's eye on the ground. Bending down and carefully reaching out, he grabbed the object and quickly stood again. He stared at the thing in his hands. It was a rusted and twisted form of a pair of glasses. Kevin dropped them and wiped his hands on his pants, the glasses gave him horrible goosebumps.

Kevin arced his flashlight beam through the building as they made their way inside. His eyes flashed into every nook and crany seconds before his light hit them.

"Doesn't anyone else find this....creepy? Working flashlights. Empty buildings...I found some rusted glasses out front...the place....it's like a freaking ghost town."

As Hawke wated the over head laser grid flickered and went out, but then it came back on a bare minimum of power.

"Doesn't anyone else find this....creepy? Working flashlights. Empty buildings...I found some rusted glasses out front...the place....it's like a freaking ghost town."

"Hi tech laser grid, low tech concertina wire, three quarters of the buildings little more than shells all but hidden in overgrowth, but this building completely untouched with a powered door, but no interior lights, and flashlights, oh yes something is very wrong here" Hawke muttered under her breath.

Then spoke loudly "If this is some sort of psychotic reality show, the producers and sponsers will have the lawsuit from hell to deal with."

Hans listened as the others continued to speak, and thought carefully everything that was being said, allowing a number of thoughts to travel along various trains of thoughts. Something definitely was amiss. He could have sworn there was some sort of large explosion that destroyed everything about the base, leaving barely anything, if anything.

Then, he suddenly paused as he recalled the tremendous explosion, the one he had shielded Kaylinde from. Turning to the others, he approached them and spoke quickly.

"It is wrong." he declared, "Things are not as they should be." He turned around, surveying the area around them, "When last I was on Argonia, the planet's military bases were destroyed by weapons of mass destruction."

He turned back to them, "It's not making sense though...It's as if someone pieced together a story from scraps and bits of pages found scattered, hoping to read the story as intended."

Diana blinked up at Hans. He was still intimidating, but he seemed sad, confused. Like a big, angry puppy, she decided. She looked around them. "Not they...not they that read from scraps....we...you read from scraps...your scraps...falling on their books..."

Mattie looked back from the yawning door. "For those of you not so well versed in crazy, what she's tryin' to say is that this ain't your story, Skippy."

Diana looked from the scarred woman back to the armored puppy. "Yes. Not back...pages numbers not smaller...but forward...and sideways." She said as she puzzled the answers out of her muddled mind.

Mattie rolled her eyes and shined her red tinted flashlight into the building.

"Well this isn't anything out of my story." I looked around and closed my eyes for a moment, the double vision was getting worse.


"Rigth now I'm not too sure I care whose story it's from. I think we need to get some place where we can fort up for a time and get the shakes out and over with." I hoped that came out coherently. Pushing past the others, my flashlight lens changed to red like the others, I moved further into the building. Night ws beginning to fall in earnest anyways.

Mattie watched the Delirious Doll push past her and into the building. She glanced back at Diana. "Keep up, sweetie." She then turned forged into the darkness to catch up with the reporter. "Hey, hun', don't get up too far."

Diana trailed after looking back at the two men for a moment before diving into the darkness with but her red flashlight.

Kevin looked over at Hawke. "I don't thinks this is some reality show...the blood in the train looked real enough to me."

The boy shone the light into a room that branched off from the hallway. The room was small and empty, the walls a greenish-gray hue from the dust that had grown over. He pulled his head out as Hans began to speak again. His eyes flicked to Diana as the woman began wild ramblings about pages and stories. She was starting to freak the Simatarian out, he'd keep an eye on her.

As they proceeded deeper into the building, Kevin finally decided to speak.

"Scraps of stories? You guys are talking like we're moving through some dreamscape...and..." Kevin ran his finger along the wall, leaving several trails in the dust "...this looks real enough to me. We gotta get a radio...call someone for help."

The next turning of the echolingly empty hallway brought stairs going up and more doors that stood forlornly open - gaping holes that faced one another until the hallway ended abruptly in another of the massive blast doors. Only this one bulged out as if something monsterous han hammered on it with a giants rage.

"Well" Hawke sagged against a wall, unmindfull of the dust sifting down on her as she looked at their choices. "Straight on up, or check out the rest of this first. We haven't found anything usefull so far." She grumbled as she pinched at the bridge of her nose. Her headache was getting worse. "But some one sure though a hissy down at the far end. You, Balran?"

Mattie stepped up closer to the extremely talkative woman. She was beginning to figure this was her reaction to trauma. She looked the woman over, that crash must have been a real doozy where she was at. "You aren't lookin' so hot, darlin'."

The blonde survivor looked back at Balran. "We should really clear this place before we settle down as I'll bet yer thinkin', but we best not split up even as slow as that might take."

"You can stick together if you want." Hans replied as he turned away, "I don't need you to babysit me. There's a mess hall a few doors down. You might find something still edible." Then, he turned back to them, "Follow me and I'll show you the supply room I got the flashlights from. You'll find other things you can use there, if they're not gone already."

That said, he lead them fifty-seven feet from the main doors and halted, pushing open the door to the supply room. It was a small room, about a hundred and fifty square feet, but it was only a small-scale supply room. The main armory and supply depot was elsewhere. However, Hans wanted to recon that room solo, just in case there were any unsavory inhabitants waiting for fools like them to wander in.

As they entered the supply room, Hans spoke after them, "Stay quiet. I'll be back shortly." Before they could protest, he was gone, more silent than death itself, and just as swift...

Stay quiet. I'll be back shortly

"Oh damn that arrogant ass" Hawke cursed hard under her breathe as he disappeared. Then suddenly exhuasted she leant up against the nearest wall. Pain spiked through her. "Mattie, since you seem to have a more coherent grasp on lucidity, I need your help."

In my bag - that hadn't been there before - I was certain that I had left in back on the train in all the confusion - but then again maybe not since I seldom left a room without it coming with me - was a data padd, simple enough to operate...when one wasn't seeing double.

I looked around the store room bleary eyed and noted that under the layer of the dust of years it seemed to be very well stocked, and I was certain that I recognised some of those corporate logos...which I shouldn't have.

Mattie let the PDW drop down on its sling, banging slightly on her hip. She slid up beside the other woman and put an arm around her to steady the pain and concussion addled reporter. "You need a good deal more then my help, sweetie."

The survivor held her flashlight up and shined it in the Tanaaran's face. "Look at me, dalrlin'.

"Ouch" Hawke flinched at first them forced herselt to let Mattie see her eyes. "Mixed signals, right?" She squinched her eyes back one, one hand coming up to block the lgiht even more.

She waved one hand vaguely towards the shelves. I was certain I saw doubgle " yes she knew the joke was feeble "of a Tanaaran Military Medkit over there. They're usually pretty complete. If so should have nano packs coded for head trauma."

She started to shake her head but stopped as the vertigo nearly made her fall "But there shouldn't be such here. This is ...some ones playing head games on us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second floor had none of the dust and decrepit look of the first floor. True small bits of trash, a crumpled and long faded candy wrapped lay in a corner, and an extremely old fashion safety razor rusted on the cracked edge of a stained porcelain sink. The rows of beds were neatly made, the lockers standing open, but not empty. The various uniforms, faded and tattered were hung neatly on hangers, shined shoes below them. Long faded letters and photos were held by yellowing tape to the insides of the locker doors... but no dust, just the slightly dry flat smell of some place long empty..

The shadows hung deep and dark here and some one might say they even shifted restlessly. But then again that might be just imagination.

Especially as this building had not been there when one Hans Balran had forty years and more ago, though some how he remembered it...

"Yeah, stick together. Sounds like a good plan to me." Kevin said before Hans spoke. The Simatarian stayed quiet as the group waited outside of the supply room as the man went inside. Kevin stayed close to the main door as he carefully treaded inside. His light went over the rusted racks that lined the walls.

Kevin carefully tipped a box towards him. He shone the light and peered inside, nothing but a thick pile of something mushed in with grime and dust. Kevin put it back and took a step away from the shelves. He turned and looked over to the group.

"I can't believe that guy suggested looking for food here. Probably take a bit into something and die a few minutes later from poisoning." Kevin rubbed his hands together and pointed his light off into the darkness. After several meters, the beam stopped. "Where the hell do you think he is?"

Mattie frowned seeing the woman's eyes which were dialated at different degrees. She was definitely concussed. "You need to sit down, hun." The blonde helped Hawke to a wall and then slowly allowed her to slide down the wall until she was sitting. Mattie straightened back up and glanced at the opening where Diana and the kid were standing. "The Hulk's gone to clear the facility for us, or he's gone to chase the ghosts in his mind. Either way, we need to rest. We're strung out, beat up, and tired."

She looked to the storeroom. It had just once entrance. "This is a good place to hole up for a bit. We'll be safer here than anywhere for right now." They were also screwed if anything attacked in force. They'd be cornered and overrun. However right now, Mattie knew they weren't going anywhere for a bit of time. She looked to the boy. "Hey, kid, whatsyername, keep an eye on the door, 'kay?"

She looked to Diana and waved her over. "Sweetheart, I'll need your help over here." The mousy brown haired woman nodded and camed to sit down beside Hawke. She took the injured woman's hand in hers and squeezed it sympathetically.

Mattie turned to search the racks. Her red beam stopped on what would have been a white hardcased backpack. Mattie stepped closer and grasped a handle to tilt it's face up. Prominently on the face of the white case was a red phoenix with a small white equal armed cross in the middle of the body of the stylized phoenix. She whistled at the sight. "Oh, momma..." She tilted the thing all the way up so she could get a hand through one of the carry straps.

She returned to Hawke and knelt down next to her. She laid the pack down and began to fiddle with the clasps. "This just ain't any ol'medkit, sweetie. This here's a full blown medic's kit. This is every refugee's dream, hun." She got the kit open and began rummaging through.

She was glad that officers that got onto the design boards for military medical equipment were consistent in their pesismistic view of their non-medical troops' intellects. Their consistency meant that something called a "nanopack suitable for head trauma" was labled so and had basic layman's directions so the average grunt could try to patch himself or his buddy back together after the medic with the obvious white pack had taken a round to the head.

After a bit of a search which impressed on her the importance Tanaarans place on good medical care, Mattie found a nanopack suitable for head trauma. She read the directions which were delightfully simple basically place the enclosed hypospray against person's upper arm, press button, and throw away after use. Mattie tore open the packaging and pulled out the hyposprayer. After figuring out which was the business end and what was the button she followed the simple, grunt-proof instructions to administer the nano...stuff to Hawke.

After the hyposprayer stopped hissing, Mattie put it back in its packaging and tossed it into a corner away from them. She was sure she wasn't following the printed directions to 'properly dispose' of the unit, but she didn't know or care how to properly dispose of it. This was a rusting hell hole, when the chief surgeon wanders into bitch at her for improper disposal and littering, she'd kiss him on the lips, punch him in the jaw, and then make him help Hawke.

Mattie shined her light at the floor near Hawke and Diana, so the light splashed onto them but wasn't in their eyes. "Okay that...stuff...ought to help ya, right? Anything else, you need seen to? Diana?"

Mattie glanced up to the scientist who shook her head and shrugged at the same time. She gave Diana a patient look to let her sort it out. Diana finally decided on a shrug. "A few cuts...nothing...nothing."

""Okay that...stuff...ought to help ya, right? Anything else, you need seen to? Diana?"

I remembered something important, something the darn ..records...instructions, yes instructions, that was the right word. Have to have the right word to be an effective reporter Hawke giggled softly "Got the right words. Nanos will go in and find and halt any internal bleeding, will keel inner cranial pressure down and stablise my blood pressure over all. Will make me sleep for a few hours. Last time I had this almost got ea'en by demon. Tha kidz thou' I was deed, and lef me" The last sentence was definitely slurred as the nanos began to circulate about her system, making the repairs needed.

Mattie blinked. "Aaaand she's out. Great stuff." She motioned Diana over and began working on the few cuts the scientist had, cleaning them, bandaging them. It was real simple first aid, boy scout stuff. When she was finished she looked up to the boy she'd left to watch the door. "Hey, whatsyername, how ya doin'? You bleedin' profusely or anything?"

Kevin jumped as Mattie started speaking, dropping the box he had in his hands. The rotted wood smushed on impact and formed a pile of muck. He looked over at her, having to give himself a few seconds to register what she was saying.

"Oh...I'm Kevin. No I'm fine...well..." Kevin pointed to the bloodied bandaged around his head. "I got a gash from the train wreck just above my ear, stings a bit. Maybe some anti-biotics would do."

Mattie selected a few things out of the pack and got up from beside Hawke. She stepped around the reporter and across the room to Kevin. "Well, Kev, we'll start with antiseptics first. The pack doesn't have alot of anti-biotics, and I'd like to save'em for the serious stuff. I've seen more than a few people die because they wasted antibiotics on piddly crap and then some nastier wounded festered and well it wasn't pretty." She reached up and gingerly unwarpped the bandage from boy's head and held her flashlight up to get a good look at the cut.

Kevin twitched slightly as Mattie removed the bandaged. Crusted blood and hair clung onto it as she moved it away. At first all the woman could see was blood soaked, crusted hair clinging to the boy's head. As she moved the hair, some fresh blood oozed out of slowly closing wound. The gash was just over two inches or so long, a few centimeters wide, however it was fairly shallow. The injury was starting to scab over, however removing bandage caused some new blood to leak out.

Kevin sat patiently as the woman looked at it. "So? How does it look?"

"Oh my gawd...I can see your brains." Mattie waited a few beats before snickering. "Sorry, couldn't help it."

She store open the pouch containing an antiseptic wipe. She dabbed wipe along the cut. She made no apology for the pain. "All in all, Kev, I've seen a bunch worse." She went once more over the cut before tossing the antiseptic pad aside. She took out a gauze pad and held it against the wound.

She clipped her flashlight to a pocket to free a hand. She pulled a roll of gauze out of a pocket and put the end on top of the gauze pad. She slowly unwound the roll around boy's head like it was a sweat band. She came to the end and tied it off.

fFinished, she stepped back and unclipped her flashlight so she could admire her work. "Eh, good enough, buddy boy. Don't worry about it. It ain't serious. Head wounds always feel and seem more serious because of the blood that usually flows from them. Makes ya think yer dyin'. Take my word for it." Mattie ran a finger along the vivid scar that slashed diagonally across her face.

She stepped past Kevin to look into the hall. She glanced over her shoulder at him, a mischievious smile formed on her lips "It's too bad, ya know? Were that scar visible, the cheek maybe, it'd look all rakish and sexy."

As the raggedy group of survivors conversed amongst themselves, their voices clearly unheeding the warning by their constantly disappearing leader Hans, there suddenly was an ear-splitting screech of noise high pitched enough to make them clap their hands to their heads in vain attempt to block the noise. Then, as quickly as it had lasted, it was over and they were left in stunned silence.

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

The screeching noise was in fact a high powered object screeching to a halt as it slammed into the roof of the building, shaking it to its foundations and sending debris scattering around the newly formed gaping hole in the roof. Dust and debris scattered wildly everywhere, coating everything and blinding anything that moved.

Hans had retreated several steps and had moved into stealth mode while hiding around a corner. That sound he knew, and he knew it well.

An EXO-hunter. Sent to kill rogue EXOs like him.

Specifically him. The only rogue.

Peering around the corner briefly, he watched as the dust began to settle and a large behemoth of a shape rose from the debris and straightened itself. It let out a rattling caw, as if it were coordinating its allies or communicating its arrival to its superiors.

It made Hans think of a movie he had seen once upon a time with Kaylinde. Something about dinosaurs with a giant claw on each foot, and how they had the advantage of great intelligence. The Lost World, that was the name of it. Then, realizing he was letting his thoughts drift, he snapped them back to the present and retreated his head from line of sight of his newest foe.

His resolve deepened as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

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

The sound of repeated thunder echoed through the lower levels of the building, and for those in the supply closet with enough cajones to steal a glance into the hallway either way, they'd find that it was coming from the entryway they had come. Strangely, it had sealed itself. However, it was clear that the doors would not hold. The force was just too great and with each devastating blow, they shook violently and bent inwardly more and more.

Outside the strong doors, there were three platoons of Devilish troopers, armed with plasma weaponry and all standing at heights of seven feet or more and clearly strong. One of them held a massive breaching weapon, which charged up each shot from an unknown source of energy and directed its concentrated focus on the doors momentarily barring their entrance into the facility. However, they knew of the successful high speed breaching completed by their EXO-hunter, a beast of a creature larger than two of them combined and far stronger than five of them combined. That hunter, they knew was a top predator created for a sole purpose.

To kill the Rogue.

They were there to kill the others.

Kevin hissed as the alcohol entered the wound. He was having the worst headache of his life, but the feeling of a bandage being wrapped around it made him feel slightly better. The boy looked at Mattie as she displayed her scar to him, it didn't seem sexy to him, just something viscous.

Kevin rose to his feet and looked around the immediate area. They had to be some more medical supplies, but what he was interested in more than anything was some headache relief. He grabbed a box and tilted towards him. "Hey I found some batt...fucking hell!"

Kevin screamed and dropped the box of batteries along with his flashlight as the sound ripped through his head. The screech stayed in his head long after it had abated, but something worse knocked it from his brain. The rhythmic thumping sound from down the hall and back towards the entrance.

Kevin's sound filled mind began to race. "Oh sweet fucking Christ...he was right, shit shit shit shit."

The young man scrambled, grabbing his light and bookbag. He looked back at the door, no...that's towards the sound. He looked deeper into the darkness, Hans went that way...he should know what to do. Kevin looked at Mattie.

"Come on we gotta fuck out of here."

Mattie turned to the door, listening to the same booming coming from the main entrance. She stood stock for a moment as she considered her options. She didn't know where to go in the place or if there was even another exit to this place. Balran seemed to know this place, so he might be the only one to get them out of this. One thing she did know was that the four of them couldn't stay here.

She moved over, grabbed Kevin by the shoulders, and gave him a quick shake to stave off his hysteria. "Get a hold yourself, boy! You're going to pick up Hawke and carry her, got it? Then you're going to go up and find Balran, he'll lead you out of here."

She let the young man go and turned to Diana. She looked ready to curl up into a fetal position and lose her grip on her lucidity. "Sweetheart, we need you to stay here with us. Take that medic pack and put it on. You're going to stay with Kevin and go find the big scary man. Okay?"

Mattie stepped around the unconscious Hawke and swept up the woman's bag. She slung the strap over head and it settled across her chest crossing down valley between her pert breasts and covering her vicious scar. She unsnapped the bag and began rifling through it. After a moment she pulled out Hawke's .45 pistol and slid it somewhere inside her trenchcoat. She then drew out the Tanaaran's dueling pistols. She raised an eyebrow at them and shrugged before both disappeared into the trenchcoat.

Diana watched the small blonde with trepidiation. She realized Mattie had said nothing about what her plans were. "What are you going to do?"

Mattie didn't respond for a moment as she organized the explosive charges Balran had gathered. After she was done, she let the flap fall closed over the bag and took hold of her PDW that dangled on its assualt sling. The blonde took a deep breath and turned to face the addled scientist. She forced a smile onto her face. "I'm going to hold our party crashers while y'all get to Balran. Now get, I'll be along."

With that she pushed past Diana and Kevin and into the hall towards the entrance. She went to the door and let her false smile die on her lips. She was screwed. She knew it as well as her father had when he'd give his life to let her escape all those years ago. She could still hear the ringing booms, so they weren't through yet.

She knelt down and took out one of the explosives. It was old, dirty looking anti-personnel mine but compared to the claymores and bouncing bettys her father had taught her to set and defuse as a girl. She examined it for a moment and found the inbuilt tripwire. She glanced across the hall to estimate distance and pulled out what she thought was good enough. She secured the tripwire by running it under a power conduit running along the bottom of the wall and tying it off. Mattie moved to the opposite side of the hall and set the mine down. She rearmed it and carefully covered it with some of the trash that was lying around the hall.

She retreated a few yards and set another. She set two more, each spaced a few yards apart as she retreated back towards the storeroom door.

Diana's helpless expression faded away as she got to her feet. Something else had come over her. She looked Kevin up and down and sneered. "Why ya yella..." She growled before pushing the Gee Esser out of the way.

Harkening back to a custom ingrained in Catawaban tradition about the handling of hysteria, mental problems, cowardices, and lethargy, Diana swung her hand across her body, delivering a stunning backhand to Hawke's cheek. Without a pause her hand swung back down and stung the Tanaaran's other cheek with an open palm. The Fortify Slap as it was known was a corner stone of Taung'a folk psychiatry.

"Whaa..."snort, snuffle "Am I late?" Blearily Hawke's eyes opened slightly, squinched closed then slitted open, and tried to focus. It was hard to tell how suscessful she was "Ohhh, what???" Jerkily the Tanaaran gathered herself and managed, after a couple of fumbles, to rock unsteadily to her feet. "Oh..oh okay, lets get the littles up an mov'in, gotta 'viod the scaley bastards..."

More stagger than anything else she fumbled her way out of the storage room and headed for the stairs down. "Come on gotta go down the rabbit hole" She singsonged softly to herself.

Silence, save for residual debris still falling intermittently from the gaping hole in the roof, filled the air as the Hunter sought its prey. It brought up both arms into a prepared stance, knowing the nature of the EXO. Visual scans sought for a variety of tell-tale markers of the EXO, starting with an implanted beacon. This however, Hans had removed long ago, so all that was left to use now was heat imagery and stealth mechanism detection scanners.

It failed however to know the nature of Hans, and he was more resourceful than most when it came to fighting superior opponents. He'd never win fighting hand to hand, he simply was outmatched. However, there were alternatives, other ways to destroy these Hunters.

Long ago, when first becoming a rogue, Hans had sought the darkness and safety of deep caverns, using its many advantages to his heart's content. He had destroyed several of the Hunters by sheer craftiness and patience.

Down the stairs the Hunter moved with caution until it came to the same level as the rag-tag group was scrambling about for safety. Behind it, and wisely not using his stealth capability, yet using traditional methods of stealth by keeping to darkness and keeping out of sight, trailed the EXO, fully deployed in battle armor and clinging easily to the ceiling. Each move was feline, ever so soft, ever so careful.

Another warbling cry came from the Hunter, just as the main doors crashed open and the three platoons came through. Seconds later, an explosion rocked the area as one of the trip mines were detonated. Bodies flew about as three members of the leading platoon were shredded apart. The rest halted, taking defensive measures to protect themselves. Their eyes scanned the area ahead of them now, aware that their prey had clearly been expecting them.

The warbling cry came from the end of the hall, around the corner. Bringing up an arm, one of them activated the surface scanner and a pinging noise was heard for several moments as it raced down the hallway and scanned through the entire building to reveal on the hologram a growing three dimensional imagery of the entire building on the inside.

It would also reveal the survivors trying to hide if they were out in the open. As this was done, several of the others worked to search the area for more of the hidden explosives and found the remaining ones buried beneath trash and debris. These were quickly disabled.

Suddenly, there was another cry from the Hunter, but this time, it was one of pain and fury. A different cry responded, this one of raw rage and strength. Sounds of heavy combat in the form of bodies being flung to and fro and colliding with objects lying around.

Then, as the survivors clung to whatever sanity they had left while hearing all this and expecting the worst, there was a crashing sound through one of the walls of the storeroom, and debris was sent everywhere. In the midst of the largest pile were two figures, one on top of the other. The larger figure was beneath it, it's head suffering the impalement of both hands of its attacker. Then, with a roar, the EXO ripped apart the Hunter's head beneath its armored skull and rose to his feet with the creature's brains and pieces of flesh still in his grasp.

The EXO turned to the others, a deep growling coming from him.

None of this was witnessed by the others, Diana, Kevin and Hawke as they went cautiously down stairs that hadn't been there before.

The fight betseen Hans and the EXO Hunter was brutal, his victory ultimately ashes in his mouth though, for as his growl reverberated about he could not but realize that for all its painful brutality, it had been all in his mind. That he lay flat on the dirty floor of the second level hall way, pain flareing at every move, but alone, the hole in the ceiling above as old as the original destruction if the base. Then the building shook, as something landed on the roof, and the wan light entering though the hole vanished as something blocked it, some thing vaguely repetillian, and it snuffled loudly taking in a deep breath of what hid within

And at the same time below...

However before Matties preperations were complete, the massive door fell inward, ruptured by the blows of a single figure - massive,grey, armoured ...something about a giant something with a formidible single claw on each foot...

"Lemmie, I'm home"

Mattie brought her PDW up as the door fell in. However, her blood froze as recognized what came through the door. No...this was impossible. Okay, nothing was impossible really...she'd seen a good deal of the impossible be made possible. This was surely improbable. They weren't on Earth...they couldn't be. And how did this one...clearly not Leminice...no, it was different...bigger...unmaimed.

She looked over the figure's reptilian form, silhoutted in the doorway. Like a predator of antiquity, a throwback to the age of dinosaurs, by that she knew it.

A demon

A veranice.

The freeze in her blood trickled into her heart, her core, her limbs. She couldn't move. Leminice was dead. They were all dead. The majority killed by humans a thousand years ago. Leminice was killed by a cabal of extrordinary warriors a long time ago. However, one stood alive in its stone, scaled flesh before her and by its words...Leminice was alive as well.

Where was she? What hell has she been set to?

She'd seen them shrug off bullets and blade like the buzzing of gnats. Only large scale human weaponry and the supernatural had fazed them.

She'd have taken whatever the Devilish were Balran had talked about over this. The scar down her chest panged in memory of her last meeting with a veranice. Breath wouldn't come to her as older, worse, gruesome memories of encounters with Leminice. His murder of her father, her suffering at his hands...the torture...the abuse all in front of her father to break his will and gain information...snapped the frost in her heart.

Mattie wailed, anguished and furious. Her finger tightened on the trigger of the PDW. Ineffectual as guns proved to be, even with an unarmoured face, the demons were quick to bring dodge or put something armoured up to shield, the rip-snarl of the automatic weapon was some comfort and the only thing that kept her from running.

Hawke nearly stumbled at the sudden ending of the poorly lit stairs, then she did stumble - going to hands and knees as she gaped at what lay at the bottom of the stairs.

It was daylight, but the sky was deeply overcast, leaden, and a sharp cold wind blew through the thickets of evergreens that formed the campground's wind break.

"I knew I sould have put the heavy windbreaker in my duffle" She mumbled half to herself as she picked herself up, absent mindedly dusting off her knees, not noticing that one was bleeding badly. "Come on Katie, Mark, they have cocoa in the bunk house."

She started forward, heading toward a building that had been demolished decades ago...unquestioning of the sizeable, unnatural tracks crisscrossing the ground...

Diana followed after Hawke. Her gait and bearing was noticeable different since she'd administered her lesson in Taung folk-psychiatry to the Tanaaran. She stood up straight, almost stretching to make herself taller. Her shoulders were up and swept back, confidenant and a marked change from her meek stooped posture before.

She looked down at the tracks as they walked over them. "Hey, toots! What in the Sam Hill had dogs this big and wierd?"

Kevin looked over his shoulder at the sounds of the explosions. His heart was pounding hard as they continued down the stairs, his hand pressed hard against the wall to try and keep himself balanced. As Hawke spoke, Kevin was sure he was the only one with any sense left in his head. He ran up to her and took her by the arm.

"Hawke...there is no coco get yourself..."

His eyes drifted down to the tracks at his feet. A chill ran up his spine, it wasn't safe here, they had to move, they had to get out. But the damn fence, only Hans could safely move through. Kevin couldn't leave the pair...they were starting to unravel.

"Kevin!" The boy's head whipped around as someone snarled his name. No one. The voice however was strong, familiar, threatening and evil. He took Hawke and then Diana by their arms. "Kevin don't you turn away when I'm talking!"

"Come on lets go...lets get outta here guys." Kevin said as he looked around them, no cover, no place to hide with those things prowling. "Come on...lets find Hans okay?"

Hey, toots! What in the Sam Hill had dogs this big and wierd?"

"Dogs? There might be a feral one or two hanging about by the garbage pit but I haven't seen any" Hawke said absently as she trudged determinedly down the path that would lead through the trees to the main bunk house. She could smell the woodsmoke, the applewood had such a disctinct scent.

"Come on...lets find Hans okay?"

"Who's Hans? I thought we were the only group camping here" She climbed the three steps up to the porch and tired to open the door but for some reason it wouldn't open and she frowned.

"This is stuck, I can't get it open" She tugged again with the same futile gesture. "Shoot, I guess we'll have to go round back...come on" She sighed in disgust.

The jack hammer pounding of the high powered gun battered at Mattie's ears, and the large bullets pounded at the figure that filled the majority of the opening - only a thin trickle of setting sun managing to edge past the bulky armored nightmare.

It's first stride in was a stagger though as it reeled under the onslaught of the high calibur rounds. Then it gathered itself with a roar and leaped forward covereing most of the distance between itself and its attacker with one bound. The leap took it completely past the first set of improvised explosives, but not the second. Bleeding but not as wounded as it should have been it snarled, showing fearseome fangs and charged.

Above...While Hans recovered from the fight with his rebellious memories...

The long - seemingly endless period of snuffling ended and with one agile move the bulky figured leapt in through the hole in the celing, though it's landing was not as agile as it once would have been, for it's counter balanceing tail was all but missing.

The scar was old and healed but while it had survived the maining it had never fully regained it's previous grace. Not that a predator such as it needed all that much grace.

The PDW had fallen silent as the veranice gathered itself and made its leap. Mattie took no joy or triumph in the brackish blood that dribbled from numerous small cuts and stings on the monster's chest and forearms which he'd brought up to guard its unarmored face.

She didn't need the horror of her youth snarling in her face to convince her not to attempt to reload the PDW. She burst up from her crouch and ran. She didn't even look back. She didn't think she was fast enough to out run it, but she knew that she'd set a mine not a few meters from her. It had cleared the first but not the second. If she didn't try to run, she was sure she would die before it reached her. A deep part of her thought that might not be a bad idea.

She heard the thing pounded behind her. She ran towards the entrance to the store room, the nearest cover. In that moment of clarity before all hell broke loose, she could almost here the click as the tripwire was pulled past the point where the mine's trigger activated. She made a leap for the entrance as the world roared behind her. She stretched out and flew, or at least achieved the nearest thing to man flight, and rebounded inside the entrance as the storm of shrapnel and fire shattered past her.

She lay in a heap inside the entrance. She could barely breath, almost shivering as she tried to bring herself under control.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana looked down at Kevin's hand on her arm. "Get yer mitt off me, ya palooka." She said with a voice much deeper and gravellier than her own and tore her arm from his grasp with surprising strength.

She stepped away from the young man and followed after Hawke. "Doll, whadda ya think ya doin', eh?"

The massive, multi ton monster, it's hind feet graced with claws of unimaginable lethality, pounded down the hallway, the ground trembling with every foot fall, the walls shaking, the now disturbed dust of ages dancing in the weak evening rays...

The second explosive tripped, all vanishing in a momentary gout of flame and destruction...then the shockwave cleared and the badly bleeding armoured figured was still there, though reeling from the blast...then it straightened and sprang foreward, it's breathing savage, hissing like a locomotive releasing steam...

Rearing its head back. It's frightfull cry echoed through the battered emptiness and rebounded over it and The behemoth trained its sauser sized eyes on the still figure crumpled in the door way. Saliva drippedf from cruelly serrated fangs as it placed one talloned claw firmly on Mattie's still form and used it to scrap her nearer.

Bending over it snuffled at the woman, inhaling the sweet feminine scent delightedly. Forehands, talloned but not as massivly as the killing ones on the feet, shredded her clothes even further.

"Ah such a sweet scent, and I just knoow..." the words turned into a hiss...escaping air, a slow stretching away...a whistling sound as the creature shrank, compressed in upon it'self, and vanished without a trace...

Leaving nothing behind save for one overwhelmed.

Kevin looked with absolute distress at Hawke and Diana as the pair drifted off into their own fantasy worlds. They had lost it, he felt as though he was losing it too from the voice he had heard. He didn't want to leave them, he didn't want to leave the pair alone, however...those things were out there. Staying with them in this state could be more dangerous...

"KEVIN! Damnit boy!"

Kevin felt a sharp, blunt sting across his face. He stumbled backwards and looked around. Nothing.

"You're an ungrateful little child! After what I've done for you!?"

Kevin felt the blow land on the back of his head. He twirled. Nothing. "Hawke!? Diana!?"

"Stop crying like a faggot and grow a pair."

Kevin turned and tried to run. He felt the blow again on the back of his head. Again. Again. Kevin crashed into a metal door for a smaller structure. thump thump thump thump The footsteps drummed against pristine hardwood flooring. Kevin grasped the door handle and shook it violently. The thick, gravel voice tore into his eardrums.

"BOY!"

Kevin continued to bang his body into the door as the footsteps drew closer. Tears streamed down his face. He felt the blow strike his shoulder. "Leave me alone Dad!"

She was frozen.

It was a trick. She dare not move. It had to be a trick.

Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump Ba-bump...Ba-bump.....Ba-bump.......Ba-bump

She waited, listening to her heart slow over minutes from its frightful pace. She was short of breath, every bit of air wisping away from her. She closed her eyes as the world began spin.

Breath, honey, breath, an older man's voiced echoed in the back of her mind. It was familiar, strong, authoritative. She let that flow over her. She took deep breaths.

It ain't nothin', girl. Ya gotta get up now, he told her. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and fought the waves of nausea. The images of that slathering monster, what he said, how he leered, what he wanted threatened to empty her guts.

It didn't happen. It didn't happen, but it might just, if you don't get your ass up, the man's voice warned. Mattie crawled over to the wall and twisted around until she was sitting back against it. She looked up and down the hall which was relievingly, frightfully empty except for the smoke, all that was left of the mines.

She looked down at herself. Her trenchcoat and pants were miracluously unscatched. Her shirt and bra, however, were split and tattered.

What part of get your ass up is the problem, sweetheart? Unless you want to show more than ya need to, improvise. Tie it up, and get your ass up!

Mattie knew he was right. The vicious scar over her sternum wasn't the only scar on her torso, not by a long shot. There were broad bite scars on her breasts, long slashing scars that had the look of tiger strips across her abdomen and around to her back, and a long oval burn on her belly. She liked to be fully clothed with possible, jacket preferable, for a reason. However, there were times like this when wardrobe attrition made that impossible, so she had to choose what she was least self-conscious about.

She took hold off the bottom of each half of the front of her shirt and brought it up to her chest. She pulled each side taunt and tied them together with a simple not under her breasts. She'd live with this improvised bellyshirt and the tiger-stripes and the burn. She had to get up.

Mattie pushed herself up the wall and to her unsure feet. Reload the weapon, girl. Come on, get your head screwed on straight. Going along with the voice she pulled the empty magazine off the top of the PDW and pulled the spare one from her cargo pocket. It hadn't done a lick of good against the veranice, but as she pulled the bolt back and let it fly, there was a shred of comfort in a fully loaded automatic.

Good, darlin', good. Now gather up Vicky's bag, and go find the others. She obeyed, grabbing the bag up from where she'd lost it after the explosion and the veranice. She slipped it over her head and looked down the hall. She saw the stairs Balran had gone up...and a new pair of stairs.

Huh. Didn't see those stairs before, eh? You need to keep your eyes open, girl, but it don't matter. You sent them after Balran, remember?

Mattie remembered what she'd told them to do. She lurched towards the stairs up to the next floor. She looked dazed as she lurched unsteadily towards the stairs. The cut on her cheek had reopened, and a new rivulet of blood wound its way down the side of her face.

She remembered where she told them to go. She just wished she could remember who the man speaking to her was.

Hans was standing over Kevin, puzzled why he kept screaming. He seemed to be trying to make out words but it all came out in a jumble, making no sense whatsoever. Tears streamed down the boy's face, his eyes full of fear. Had he forgotten who stood over him now? With a growl, Hans lifted the boy by his shirt until he was on his feet. He slapped him across the face with enough force that whatever delusions he was suffering from, would snap from his mind.

"Lay off the 'shrooms, kid. We've got bigger problems." Hans muttered as he set Kevin down. "Where are the others?" His voice grew hard, cold. "Were they taken?"

"You stinking little shit!" WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! "Ungrateful bastard! I thought I raised you better!"

The blows against the back of his head caused Kevin to slam his body harder and harder until he began to slip down the door, his arms going over his head. The man was shaking violently as he felt the blows strike his arms in a vain attempt to protect his head.

Kevin felt inhuman strength grasping his collar. He gave a short scream as he felt himself being dragged to his feet. His eyes settled upon the rough, thick bearded face of his father. Those cold, hateful eyes glaring down at him. "Dad please! Stop! Dad!"

Kevin's body lurched as he felt a slap across his face. Through the moist haze in front of his eyes, the hellish vision disappeared.

Kevin batted away the last few tears in his eyes as Hans' face came into focus. Kevin's head darted left and right, he wasn't home, he was still in the swamp...he flipped his head back to Hans as the man spoke. The coldness in his voice caused Kevin's gut to tremble.

The Simatarian shook his head. "I I I dunno...Hawke she was...talking to herself...she and Diana...they wandered off I...I dunno..."

Hans, behind the fluid metal mask that was part of his mask, rolled his eyes. "Listen up kid...this place ain't what it's supposed to be. This whole world...I don't even know if it's real anymore. I just killed a Hunter a few minutes ago and then it just disappeared from right beneath me. No trace of a kill, no trace of victory or even a real battle, save for what I destroyed in my own delusions."

He sighed as he turned around and glanced down to the ground. "I'm really starting to hate this fuckin' place." He saw in the thick layered dust that coated the floor, two sets of tracks leading to the stairs. Fresh tracks too.

"Let's go." he muttered as he cast a hand down at the tracks to explain. "We need to get everyone together again and figure out something different before we all just kill ourselves in our delusions."

Kevin nodded his head as he tried to collect himself. He was frightened out of his skull, the blows he had felt didn't feel like they were part of any dream. They were real. He heard his father's voice, felt the thick book strike him over and over. No, this was real...this was real this wasn't fantasy.

Kevin looked around and saw Hans moving down the hall, he sprinted and quickly caught up with him. The Simatarian turned his head around several times, thinking he heard the sound of his father's shoes.

He looked up at Hans, feeling somewhat safer around someone who could fight. "Hunter. You said you killed a Hunter. What is it?"

"My worst nightmare." Hans replied without pausing in his long-legged stride. "Crafted and augumented repeatedly until they were strong enough...the Devilish used them to hunt down EXOs and destroy them utterly." A sideways glance toward Kevin.

"I'm an EXO...a freak of science and ill will. I was normal like you once. Human. Weak. I should've died on the battlefield...but they had other plans to use me against my allies, my friends. They tortured me in ways you cannot even imagine. Implanted a highly advanced shielding system into my spine to create an exoskeleton. At first, I did hunt my allies, killed many of them...but then I accidentally broke the neural conduit that controlled my behavior, suppressed my will. I became myself again, and I saw what a terror I had become..."

He paused, turning to Kevin. "I'm not human anymore. That part of me died in the first round of torture. Now, I am a ghost, a vengeful ghost who will never rest until all of the Devilish are exterminated."

The way he spoke of extermination would have sent chills down the spines of many people, even the hardiest veterans of many wars. It was a tone that spoke of a personal vendetta, a personal war that would probably never end the way he wished.

"I'll splay their intestines across doorways, bask in their blood, and hold their brains up for all to see as I crush them in my fingers... The Devilish will be no more because I will slaughter them all."

"It's not responding."

"It just ignored the last...why isn't it..."

"Does it prove Gannons Prime theory?"

"Should we declare the observation a failure?"

Watchers muttered among themselves, disturbed that their subjects weren't responding as per theorum...

Kevin shrank away from Hans as the man's voice seemly pushed him into the concrete wall. At first Kevin found the EXO description horrifically, morbidly fascinating but then as Hans turned on him, the Simatarian shrank away. His back firmly against the wall, back in his mind, he wanted it to absorb him, take him away, pry him away from the mask.

However, he felt himself held in that position until Hans turned from him. Even then, ti took a few moments before Kevin could remove himself from the wall. He turned down the hall and followed Hans, doing his best to keep up. "Kevin!"

Kevin twisted his head around, looking back down the dark hallway. Its in my head...its in my head..."Might as well use you as vampire bait! There you might serve some use!" Kevin flipped his head back around as he heard the voice penetrate his skull. It was starting again...

Kevin twisted the handle of his flashlight, trying to stay calm. "Where did they go? The Devilish? You said you killed one of their things. Shouldn't there be more?"

Hawke trudged down the troi of broad smooth wooden steps, and began to make her way around the side of the building. It seemed much larger than she remembered.

Pausing she looked up at the blank concrete wall. Shaking her head and regretting it instantly as her vision blurred. "Thats strange, there was a lag cabin here a moment agoi, I'm sure of it."

She found herself yawning, suddenly so tired she could do little more than lean against the uneven walls of the cave.

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

Devilish...Devilissssshhhhhhh...Deeeeevvvvviiillllllllsh...the word echoed back at the pair, battering the two men. Then a foul wind whipped about them carrying a charnel hour reek and the sounds of something behind them, something on the level above them as they stumbled down the stairway...

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

The stairway she crept up was crudely formed, the steps uneven, chizeled out of living stone, and behind her something dark and dangerous snuffled and shuffled, stiring memories better left untouched.

"Eh, doll? Doll?"

The possessing light in her eyes and strength in her body faded away. Diana was left looking around in bewilderment. Cave? Cabin? What was all this? What was Victoria talking about? She saw Victoria slump against the cave walls. Diana stepped forward and laid a hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Victoria, where are we? What happened?

~~~~~~~

Mattie stopped as the stairs and the whole stairway changed around her. It was hewn, carved from living rock. That made no sense. She’d been in a manmade structure above ground going upstairs, but here she was. She stepped to the side of the passage and ran her hand along the rough stone walls. It was like, like...

Like the holes you lived in, girl. You remember the more ambitious sanctuaries people like your father tried to make. And if this is anything like the holes you lived in…Listen, behind you!

“What the fu…” Mattie breathed but went silent at the snuffling behind her. The cold knot in her stomach, which had just begun to thaw, found it could return to absolute zero once again in an instant.

It was back.

Mattie turned and ran up the stairs. She needed to put distance between it and her.

“Victoria, where are we? What happened?"

"I...I don't know Diana. This makes no sense... I was" She looked around fighting a sudden wave of fear that swept over her. “We were at the camp, in Tarlachia, the camping trip my scout troop won" She shuddered and couldn't go on for a moment. "I was just fourteen when the first demons showed up...that’s what we fought against in the Dark War...they just appeared out of nowhere, and over ran the camp. Took us prisoner" She gulped, sick to her stomach at the memories, unable to go on. The memories were her worst, ones almost twenty years old but still unable to be viewed with anything other than horror. She closed her eyes.


Mattie reached the top of the stairs and found Diana and Hawke less than a hundred feet away, as they stood in an empty open space, no walls no ceiling visible, just a gray formlessness that was roughly a hundred yards in radius.

Kevin whipped around as he heard the voice. He gagged heavily from the smell that was creeping down the hall. The man picked up the pace on his step, the voices ringing in his ears.

A sliver of dust fell on his head. Kevin looked up, by the light of the flashlight he could see cracks forming on the ceiling. Dull thumping struck his ears.

"We gotta go...we gotta run..."

Kevin turned from Hans and bolted as quickly as he could down the stairs, praying to find the bottom.

Hans growled quietly as he heard the voice, looking down at Kevin as he trembled in fear. How was it he was able to hear the nightmarish voices and experiences that Hans had burnt into his memories? As Kevin bolted, Hans did as well. He didn't want to face the Devilish simply for the sake of fighting. No, he'd only fight if he was cornered, and worse than a fox cornered was him being cornered. Now, he just wanted it all to end, as peacefully as possible.

Hans kept close to Kevin, but he did reach out and grab him by the shoulder slowing him down. "Slow down. Quiet steps." he hissed as the man turned his head to protest. "Or, would you rather stumble into an unknown trap?" The man's face was livid with fear. "Trust me, you don't want that."

Translated...Roughly...

"How in Zandrau's eighth hell can we invade them if we can’t consistently make them afraid of us? I though this was supposed to be a representative sample. It looks like nothing of the sort”

“Please your Lordship, according to all the information we have it is! And thus the core of their primitive brains must contain the necessary information.”

“Maybe you are transposing every thing? What of these so called night mares are actually the pleasant memories? Try the other ones!”

“Yes Your Lordship"

Kevin looked over at Hans and nodded. "Hey...listen man...it's stopped."

Smiling, the human felt better as the strange voice halted. As the pair continued down the stairs, Kevin's light touched the bottom. Taking a tentative step off the stairs, he smiled as no spikes ripped from the walls and impaled him. The pair continued down the black hallways for a time before Kevin stopped them. He pointed silently to the base of a door where a dull orange-red glow was visible.

Kevin walked to the door and gripped the handle. The handle moved surprisingly cleanly and the door opened as though it was on well oiled hinges. Kevin pushed the door open enough for him to slid through. As he got in, he stopped, his mouth agape.

The room was a massive library, lit by a massive fireplace at the end of the room and by soft-artificial lights. The walls were covered ceiling to floor in books, the floor was of rich hardwood and covered with expensive Oriental rugs. Several leather chairs were dotted around the room, clustered close to the fire.

Kevin walked slowly forward, mesmerized by the sight. His voice was soft and choked. "Hans...get in..."

Mattie ran away from the stairs and towards Vicky and Diana. The addled scientist looked up at the sound of boots on the rock. "Mattie?" Diana asked, looking happy to see her friend, but suddenly terrified by the scared expression writ all over Mattie.

"Get down! Get the fekk down, girl!" Mattie skidded on the smooth stone floors and reached into the messenger bag again. She pulled out another mine and armed it. She turned it upside down and threw it like a frisbee into the stairwell. She then threw herself flat. Diana shrieked and threw herself atop Vicky to push her to the ground.

Vicki fell hard not trying to break her fall in any way, but sought to hug Diana to her and shelter them both...

There was no crump of explosion, but the eager baying of a Beagle?...maybe it was a Bassett? (http://jlarson.omnisitebuilder.com/_files/Image/bassett%20hound.jpg)...what ever it, it was canine and thoroughly benign, was came lopeing to them the mine held proudly in its soft mouth, its floppy ears bouncing gaily along.

Tail wagging proudly at having caught the item, it bounced up to Mattie and offered it to her. In the near distance there came the soft cackle of a chicken."

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

Thew room that Kevin and Hans found themselves in was every thing a private, and perfect, library should be. The unmistakable scent of books, the warmth of the crackling fire, the subdued but perfect for reading lighting... maybe a place they had never seen, but perhaps drawn from dreams...

Mattie unfolded her arms from over her head and looked up to stare face first into the mine. Cursing, she reared back from her stomach to back on her rear in one seemless movement that Mattie wasn't aware she was able to do before that moment. The basset hound obediently plodded up to Mattie and held the mine out to her like a frisbee. "Good doggie...."

The brunette carefully took the mine from the dog's mouth and disarmed it. Only after she'd slipped the mine back into the messenger bag did she realize what this meant. The basset hound had somehow caught the mine like a frisbee...not normal basset behaviour as far as Mattie knew. More importantly this dog had come up the stairs before Leminice had; in fact the Demon Lord hadn't appeared. There was no side branch off the stairs that she'd seen, she didn't recall passing a dog, and she damned well knew Leminice would not pass up the chance to snag a morsel like a basset hound which were like unicorns where she came from.

Was that a chicken?

Yes, it was, and Diana struggled loose of Vicky at the cackle. "Charlie?" Her face brightened, and she was in another place and time. "Charlie!" She squirmed to get loose of the Tanaaran.

Mattie realized that somethign was dreadfully wrong. "Diana, don't get up. Don't move! Vicky, Vicky! Keep a hold of her." Mattie got up from the ground and brought the PDW up. She edged towards the stairs.

Something was wrong with a capital Screwed Up. First, all the wierdness with that strange veranice and then Leminice had shown himself from whatever dimensional hole he'd ended up in and then the basset showed border collie abilities in catching a mine and now...and now, a rooster that was pretty well dead, dead as in reduced to chicken sauce, a lot like apple sauce but less appetizin, was cackling from the same stairs that Leminice should have been coming up that had a dog breed bred thrice for lazy appear on it?

She peered down the stairs with her PDW leading the way.

Vicky tried to hold on to Diana, but the sight of the mournfull eyes Bassett Hound was too much "Bingo!" She exclaimed letting go of Dianna as the dog wagged it's whole body in responce to Mattie's 'Good Doggie"

"Bingo!" She called again and the low, slung heavy weight canine turned to her and wiggled some more, it's floppy ears perking up as it moved towards her. Her arms went about it's neck and she hugged it tightly.

A large rooster, of the ubiquitous white chicken variety, cackled more as it head bobed it's way into the light. Looking birdishly about it spied Diana and cackled again, in a most welcoming tone...

Hans halted at the doorway, standing within the door's frame as he scanned the library. Something was way wrong, very much so. Looking over at Kevin, he put out a single question.

"Who started the fire?"

Hans's proverbial hackles were raised in great alarm. This smelled every bit of a trap to him and he didn't like it. His mind worked overtime to figure out what the hell they had all stumbled into, and he wondered for a moment if it would ever end.

"Kevin..." he murmured quietly as his wary eyes scanned the room and the books. "Don't. Touch. Anything." The words were punctuated for emphasis, further exemplified by his hand in the traditional warning gesture of 'Don't move.'

Charlie of species all too common and mostly abbreviated down to UWC bocked and fluttered slightly, flightlessly up the stairs and waddled over towards Diana. She’d scooped up her long-lost farm fowl and hugged it closely. She gushed into its feathers about how she knew he hadn’t died, how she must have opened a dimensional rip between worlds and switched her Charlie with another and sauced the poor alternate of Charlie.

Mattie was silently as she peered down the stairs. They were no longer rough hewn like some dwarven ruin from a Tolkien tome. The stairs were now narrow with warm wood steps and cheerful yellow paint. Pictures of Mattie and her family decorated the wall in dusty frames. She stepped back from the stairs and looked back at the two women and their pets. She glanced down at the stairs. Her suspicions hardened from mere conjecture to startling realism. “Vicky, when did you last see Bingo?” She called as she looked down at the stairs once more.

“Vicky, when did you last see Bingo?”

"Why just yesterda..." Her voice trailed off, the joy leaking away like air from a baloon tied not tight enough..."No...fifteen years ago"

Her vocie went to a whisper "Just before he died..." She clutched the dog to her who began happily washing her face as her hands moved on their own to keep scrtiching his silky, floppy ears. "But this is Bingo, this is My Bingo." She asserted with unargueable firmness.

"but...but, it's like he's young again, not all faded and thin with age..." She looked up bewhildered at Mattie.

“I’m looking down stairs…that haven’t existed in years. They were burned and crushed by demons back on Earth…my Earth.” Mattie turned around and pointed at Diana and her UWC. “That chicken is dead. Your dog is dead.”

Diana looked up from Charlie’s feathers. She looked aghast, angry, but more lucid than she’d been in a while. “That’s a lie! That was another Charlie from another dimension.”

Mattie’s deep blue eyes flicked over at the grade school teacher turned mad scientist. “No, Diana, I’m so sorry, but if it were just him, I’d believe you. Enough osik had gone down to make that likely…but he’s dead. We’re being shown things from our pasts. I’ve been chased by two demons I know don’t exist. One never did, and another I lost saw tumbling between dimensions…I could believe that one too if it weren’t for the rest. A dead dog? A cavern upstairs in an above ground facility?”

Diana looked down at her chicken, sad, scared, betrayed. Mattie looked away. “We’re being screwed with, someone’s screwing with our minds for the hell of it.”

Kevin's mind wasn't locking into Hans' words. The boy walked numbly around, moving towards one of the shelves. He moved with a sense of purpose, of knowing, he knew the room like the back of his hand. His eyes locked with the fourth shelf up, thick leather bound tomes lined the shelf. His eyes froze.

Volume Thirty-Six was missing.

Kevin turned back to the fireplace, his eyes falling on the rich hardwood table near the largest leather chair. A glass of brandy glittered from the fire, a cigar smoldered gently in the silver ashtray. Kevin quickly moved forward to the fire, moving wide, avoiding the chair like it was a plague. His fingers wrapped around the fire poker and he quickly retreated from the empty chair.

Kevin turned back to Hans. The poker wobbled in his hands, fear was in his eyes. "He's here...he's here..."

Hawke nodded slowly, though her hands never stopped stroking the soft fur of a dog that had died so long ago. "I...I don't know how, but you've got to be right Mattie."

She used one hand to rub at her temples. "I just wish my head would stop aching, and my eyesight going blurry every little bit." Her breath hitched as the pounding at her temples grew worse. "I don't think that nanopack you gave me is working properly, either. I'm sorry"

"No need to be sorry." Mattie squinted as she looked around the cavern's shadows. "Really shouldn't be surprised the thing didn't work. It was probably fake too. Hell, your injury might be fake. We could be all be asleep on the train or strapped to tables or funky VR chairs."

She looked up at the ceiling. She let her PDW drop and placed her hands on her hips. The picture of utter boredom. "Are you quite fekking through? Gorram puppetmasters, gamemasters, or whatever the hell y'all are, gorram the lot of ya! Like intergalatic reality show producers, y'all gettin' yer jollies screwin' with us? I mean what the hell is y'all's deal?"

She pointed down at the warm suburban stairs and then at the cavern. "Y'all are the worst mother ruttin' omniscient beings I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Y'all can't even keep yer damned illusions in a row. It's damned sad. I feel embarrassed and pissed that I let you get to me." She was mostly pissed, and it was coming out. She'd been made to relive the horrors of her past. She'd cringed in fear, so frightened that the veranice was going to have her then and there, that Leminice had returned....and all by a bunch of amateurs.

"Geez, if y'all ain't the stupidest too." She was running down the idea of 'Let us taunt it, it may become so cross, it will make a mistake...' "You took five people who couldn't be more different. There's no way you could mesh it all. We're not afraid of the same things, we didn't even grow up the same circumstances, one of us is certifiably insane, but we all got bats loose in our belfry I'll reckon."

She shook her fist at the ceiling. "This is like a bad episode of Star Trek but at least those gamemasters gave Kirk a bit of dignity and occupied themselves find out which was more powerful good or evil or something. Instead I get the galaxy's poor excuse for an omniscient Jeff Probst! Bring it on, cow me!"

Hans let out a low exasperated growl as Kevin began to flip out big time once again. He glanced at the empty chair, the cigar with its lazy smoke curls, the brandy that appeared to be recently consumed. His eyes returned to the bookshelf that had spooked the kid more than anything else. He noted the empty slot, curiously the only one in this entire library.

His scanners flipped on, flipping through a series of different sensors, all finding nothing except for a panicking kid wielding a fire poker and looking quite ready to shit himself. Turning to Kevin, he approached him, swatting away the poker as it was instinctively raised at him. He took the kid's face in both hands and held it firm. Han's mask slid back to reveal his face again.

"Kevin, snap the fuck out of it. No one's here! All of this! All of this is nothing but a past memory of yours! Like the Devilish were for me a few rooms ago!"

He paused suddenly, turning to look at the chair. He became still and quiet for several long moments. Then, slowly, he looked back at Kevin.

"There's only one way you can get past this." He saw the fear in the kid's eyes as if he subconsciously knew what Hans was about to say. "Take away his power he holds..."

Hans lifted an arm and pointed at the chair. "Kill the man that terrifies you."

Kevin looked from Hans to the empty chair, his father's chair. The polished oak, rich, supple leather chair that had been in his family for years. The aroma of Ackerford Cigars and Harte Brandy, the stenches that had choked the boy's lungs since his youth. His father, the master of political art and monster of his offspring, was here. It was no illusion, Kevin knew the smell, knew the look, the rose-marble fireplace with the sculptures of dragons on either side. No, it was all rich in detail.

Kevin's head smashed violently backwards, his whole body following suit. Slamming into the floor, a fresh purple bruise on his temple that disappeared into his hair visible in the firelight. Kevin's eyes shot upwards, instead of Hans, Kevin was faced with the mountain that was his father. Volume Thirty-Six in his hand, barely visible on the blue leather were dark, speckled areas of dried blood.

The figure raised the thick book and slammed it downwards, Kevin's hands went up to defend himself. The book smashed through the pitiful defense and crashed into his face. Kevin howled as the tome struck and a fraction later a heavy kick delivered to his stomach. The figure of his father spoke in the same cold, heavy, dead tone he always had with him. "You little wretch, you're just not worth the carbon you're made from. You're just a little dick sucker who'll spend the rest of its miserable existence fucking every queer that crosses its path. I'm right? Correct? Right!?"

The tome slammed down again on Kevin, he curled up on the floor screaming as he felt the leather strike his body time and again. Kevin twisted on the floor, trying to get away from the blow. His body rubbed against the fireplace poker. At first a realization of what he had come across went into his mind, then, an almost animalistic desire.

Grabbing the poker with both hands Kevin screamed as he swung the weapon in the air. He saw his father back up, an almost amused expression o his face. Kevin's face was red and purple, his eyes burning from tears and hate.

Kevin screamed and charged towards the figure shrouded in shadow. But instead of his father, the poker was driving straight towards Hans.