NationStates Jolt Archive

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Steven Bradford - George Atwater - Marissa Corrigan - Dave Bivens - Jack Valkare

Can't you see that you're smothering me?

Holding too tightly...

Afraid to lose control...

Cause everything that you thought i would be...

...has fallen apart right in front of you...

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“Right there,” George said, pointing to insure that they knew exactly what he was referring to. “What is he doing?”

Steven and Marissa followed his finger to find a man milking a cow. Granted if this was taking place in the middle of Imperial Square, George would have a right to be astonished, however this incident was contained to a farm, and this act was committed by a member of a society that did such things on a regular basis. Perhaps George had forgotten where he had been for the past two months.

“He’s milking the cow,” Steven replied, as understanding as possible.

“Why?” George asked. Steven often wondered if George set himself up for moments such as these, much like a famous actress would be far more ditzy in public to gain attention.

“…for milk,” Steven replied. Marissa snorted and shook her head.

“What?” George asked, defending himself. “I’m no scientist. Was I supposed to know that?”

“Where exactly do you think milk comes from, George?” Marissa asked. Steven could almost feel her waiting for the response.

“I just buy it from the store,” George replied honestly. Marissa chuckled.

“How profound!” she muttered faux-enthusiastically before turning her eyes back to her binoculars and her gaze back to the farm. George, not fully knowing exactly what to say nor understanding why he was being made fun of, did the same.

George Atwater was correct in one thing at least. He was, for sure, no scientist. He had made this painfully clear over the past two months to everyone he had come in contact to. Unlike everyone else who was there for the pursuit of knowledge, or some other similarly clichéd yet honest motive, George was there because he had nothing better to do.

Unemployed, and yet impossibly wealthy thanks to overachieving parents, George tended to misuse his adventurous spirit in situations such as this, funding projects as long as he could travel along. Marissa, as any good poor scientist would do, begrudgingly accepted the funds. Already she regretted it, although she knew there was no one else interested, and therefore no other way to do this independently.

To Dr. Marissa Corrigan, published author and expert on sociology, archeology, and occasionally extreme political liberalism, keeping this project away from the Emperor and the government as long as possible simply out of spite was her first priority. Therefore, she surrounded herself by not necessarily like-minded individuals who would support her personal independence and strength in womanhood nonsense by default, simply by paying it no attention.

“What amazes me most is the field,” Steven said. “How they farm, with such technology, enough food to provide for their society is amazing enough in itself.”

“And yet people have been doing it for hundreds of years,” Marissa replied, shrugging. “We depend too much on technology. All it does is make us lazy.”

Steven rolled his eyes. Marissa was holding an extremely expensive set of binoculars while wearing a suit that was equipped with adaptive camouflage. Without either of these ‘laziness-inducing’ inventions, their work would be nearly impossible. She seemed to sense his disapproval.

“What?” she asked defensively. “I’m guilty as well…”

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“General,” Emperor David Bivens replied, annoyed. “The tactical advantages comprised by that planet should be reason enough to land.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” General Jack Valkare said. “But like I’ve told you…a ‘base’ or an ‘outpost’ can’t compare to the ability those people possess. To be able to avoid lifesign scanners…it would be amazing. We can build a damn outpost!”

Bivens shook his head in disgust, leaning back in his desk chair. He needed that planet. He needed it much more than he could tell anyone. Valkare wasn’t the one in charge, and yet Bivens had strong hesitations with pulling rank on his best adviser, and most likely, his best friend.

“All I’m asking for is more time,” Valkare said. “It’s been being studied for months. Besides, there’s an international team down there. We’re getting enough bad publicity on this as it is. We don’t need international headlines about how we kicked some scientists off a planet we wanted to invade.”

“I could give a damn about headlines,” Bivens replied in all honesty. If anything, the Emperor’s throne made you arrogant.

“But your people,” Valkare continued. “When they vacation in foreign lands…when they travel in open space…I don’t want any of them kidnapped by some radicals trying to teach us a lesson.”

“I could really give a damn about radicals either,” Bivens replied, his honestly failing. “Besides, those who hate us already do. It’s not like it’d be any different,” Bivens lied. Once again, Valkare was right. Once again, Valkare had proved to be a more insightful leader than he was. Both of them knew it, once again, and yet neither would bring it up. It was, after all, their relationship. Valkare had made more important decisions in the Empire than anyone other than Bivens himself would ever know.

“We’re getting off topic…” Valkare said, changing the subject back to what it originally was concerning.

“How much more time are we talking about?” Bivens asked.

“Indefinate,” Valkare replied. “Until we know for sure.”

“Two months,” Bivens offered.

“I can’t accept that,” Valkare responded. Bivens slammed his fist down on his desk.

“I’m the goddamn Emperor!” he screamed. “What do you mean you can’t accept it?”

“There’s no way to guarantee that two months will be enough time,” Valkare continued, not backing down. He never did.

“Why do you care do much about this damned planet?” Bivens asked, wondering how Valkare became the only person truly allowed to talk to him like that.

“The possible benefits are invaluable,” Valkare replied. “Why don’t you care at all?”

The Emperor frowned. He wanted to tell Valkare. He wanted to tell him all about why he needed to search every square inch of that planet, but he simply could no do it. It almost seemed like Valkare knew he was hiding something.

“I want an update every week,” Bivens said, his tone considerably more calm. “On my desk, written by a scientist, and signed by you. The first week you miss, I pull the plug.”

“Thank you,” Valkare replied, nodding as the Emperor's face faded before him. “Computer, terminate visual comm.”

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“Fred seems to be spending a lot more time outdoors lately,” Steven commented, zooming in to make sure that it was, in fact, Fred. Steven swore that the family’s teenage son was looking more like his father on a daily basis. He had already confused the two of them on multiple occasions.

“Fred and Anne had another fight yesterday,” Marissa explained. “Fred’s a terrible listener…he doesn’t seem to be a very understanding person.”

“Maybe Fred just doesn’t like listening to Anne whine all the time,” Steven replied as a joke. Marissa frowned; she didn’t find it funny.

“Fred” and “Anne” were the parents of the family that Steven and Marissa had been observing for the past month and a half at least. Neither Steven nor Marissa had any idea what their real names were, as they had been unable, up to this point, to bug the house thanks to a group of annoying guard dogs that were easily excited, so they decided to name the people themselves. Along with their children “Bob” and “Jane,” “Fred” and “Anne” were far more easily identified and discussed with their new names.

“This isolation can’t be good for their marriage,” Marissa continued, her tone disapproving, and if Steven knew her as well as he thought he did, completely directed at Fred.

Marissa tended to be disapproving of most men. Jokes were constantly being muttered behind her back, but Steven tried to avoid them. Marissa had always been more than kind to him, almost treating him as a mother would treat her favorite son. They didn’t always see eye to eye, however her respect for him never wavered. For Marissa, this was an accomplishment of incomprehensible proportions.

“Nah,” Steven replied, serious this time. “I think him getting away from it all, getting a chance to clear his head, is the best thing to do. Them simply getting angry and yelling at each other wouldn’t help much.”

Marissa looked at Steven with the loving, motherly eyes he had grown used to. “I don’t understand how you’re not married,” she said, shaking her head, but this time with a smile on her face. “Girls would die for a man like you.”

“Biology isn’t the biggest turn-on,” Steven replied, becoming depressed at the thought of his lack of success in relationships, or girls for that matter. He sighed. “Besides, I’m always out in places like this for months at a time, and I’ve heard that these things can last years.”

Three years ago, Dr. Steven Bradford graduated at the top of his class with the best grades the university had seen in three decades. And being that he graduated from Esthar Research Academy, the premier university of science in the Orion Sector, this was quite an accomplishment.

Upon graduation, he had more job offers than time to write them all letters declining their offers, and was almost even forced into government service, but was saved thanks to a psychology test which he purposefully failed. His goal had always been to go to work for those who had taught him so much, the Academy himself, and he was hired within days of receiving his diploma.

He studied everything from changes in the nutritional value of certain crops to humans healed by the Q-virus in a mere three years, however his assistant roles in those studies paled in comparison to his current job: Lead Biologist on the traits of the Vesperian People. These traits, or trait, which numerous generals and sky marshals salivated over, was the seemingly innate ability to avoid lifesign scanners.

The ability to appear dead, or nonexistent, to scanners, while rather useless to Steven himself, was absolutely invaluable to the military. Plus, unlike every other government agency, the military paid heartily for that which it wanted. Steven smiled to himself. He truly did love the science, although, the money could never hurt.

“You can’t make science the love of your life, Steven,” Marissa told him, as if she had read his mind. Steven gave her a weird look. Still single at 63, that was exactly what Marissa had done. She was quite pretty, especially given her age, but she never went after men or accepted their advancements. Perhaps, coming from Marissa, that advice meant that much more.

“How much longer do we have to watch this guy?” George whined.

“You’re the one who wanted to come…” Marissa replied.

“But how does understanding the relationship with his wife have anything to do with him avoiding scanners?” George asked. Marissa seemed momentarily impressed. The question, while she wouldn’t register as “good,” was certainly valid.

“Frankly, George, we don’t know why they can avoid the scanners,” Marissa replied. “No device appears to be used, for our allies in space can still find our exact co-ordinates, and nothing about their DNA appears to be substantially different than people of similar planets and environments. Observing relationships is my job, and I’m here to do it.”

“And you?” George asked Steven, content with Marissa’s response but now shifting his focus. “Why are you out here cow-watching?”

“Might as well know who I’m studying,” Steven replied, shrugging. “This family’s one of our main case studies.”

“It’s too bad we can’t just kidnap one of them,” George muttered. Steven and Marissa both stared at each other. George would be in for nice treat when they returned today, curtesy of a different team that did just what he proposed. They turned back to their binoculars, feeling that they had wasted enough time.

George, apparently frustrated at his inability to find an “ah-hah!” moment from either scientist, shifted his gaze back to the cow, his chin resting on his fists. It was a stupid looking creature, overweight and chewing god knows what while walking around in its own shit. He didn’t understand it, but then again, he didn’t see a need to understand it either. As long as the meat was on his place, and now, the milk was in his glass, he was content with the cow. He didn’t need to understand why or how the cow did what it did, merely that it did it.

Bored, George reached into his pocked for his mini PADD. It was smaller than most PADDs and much more expensive, but George had much more money than pocket space, so to him it simply made sense. Besides, he seemed to remember there being a game on it when it was displayed with him pre-sale, and he fully intended to find it in order to pass the time.

Checking to make sure that neither Steven nor Marissa saw what he was up to, he repositioned his binocular stand so that it was facing away from them. However, in the process, the mini PADD slipped from his hand. The scientists were in some deep discussion, so George looked down over the slight drop to see where his mini PADD had landed. Luckily, it had fallen on some leaves, and he could easily see it. But could he reach it? That was the real question.

The three of them were positioned half way up an enormous hill overlooking Fred’s farm. The incline was quite steep, however there was a small, two foot cliff where they were located that was flat enough to be quite comfortable. The overgrowth and foliage protected them from sight well enough, but the adaptive camouflage was still a necessary precaution. George hated the stuff, however. It made him sweat more, and it was already warm out.

Carefully, George reached his hand down over the ledge, however as the ledge was a little higher than two feet, his arm did not quite reach. Grabbing onto a tree with his left hand, he reached even farther with his right.

Steven and Marissa only noticed in time to hear the tree snap with the sound of a gunshot as George fell off the cliff, rolling over and passed his mini PADD for a few yards before colliding with a tree and letting out a loud yell. For a moment, both scientists stood in shock. Their biggest concern was being detected, and after that, there was no way someone hadn’t noticed.

“Damnit,” Steven said under his breath. “Now we have to help his stupid ass up here.”

“Ignore him,” Marissa said, looking through her binoculars. “We have bigger problems. Fred is gone. He was just in my sight a moment ago.” Likewise, Steven looked through his own. This time, Fred was most definitely in sight, with a rifle in his hand that he had most likely ran into the barn to retrieve.

“Shit,” Steven whispered, as Fred stared right in their direction. He had heard George’s stupidity manifest itself yet again. “Shit, shit, shit…”

“George,” Marissa demanded through gritted teeth. “Get up here NOW!”

“But my arm hurts…” George whined. Marissa could feel the fury growing inside of her.

“We don’t have time for this,” she told Steven, who nodded in agreement as he packed up the binoculars. “George we’ve been detected!” she said, a little louder so George could hear. “He’s coming with a gun! Come now!”

George rose to his feet and stumbled up the hill, making no attempt to mask his sound.

“We might as well make a run for it while we still can,” Steven suggested. Marissa raised an eyebrow. It was a suggestion much easier for a twenty-five year old than a sixty-three year old. Still, she could do nothing but agree. As Fred reached the edge of the wooden hill, the three of them were long gone, racing back to their hidden laboratory to tell of today’s mishap.

Fred, however, was hardly content with not finding anything as he searched the woods that overlooked his farm. It could have been a bear, or worse, a thief. The small sound of something breaking underfoot distracted his train of thought. Moving his foot and reaching down, he picked up what he had stepped on, unsure of exactly what it was, but knowing full well that it wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Goddamnit, George,” Marissa shouted, stopping to catch her breath with her hands on her knees. Am I really this old? she asked her self. No…can’t be. I’m just out of shape

The door of the cave slowly shut behind them. The name of the “cave” was not quite literal, it being the pet name for a hidden lab within a mountain that was drilled upwards from below the ground. Whatever its official name was got ignored by the scientists the moment they laid eyes on it.

“I was just sitting there and the ground gave way,” George lied. “It’s hardly my fault.”

“Of course it’s your fault!” Marissa replied.

“It really doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Steven noted. “What matters is if he saw us or not. Only time will tell I’m sure…”

“We’re not going to…report this…are we?” George asked. Steven shrugged as he took off his , he had been debating the same question as well.

“Of course not,” Marissa said, almost impatiently. The last thing she needed was government agents putting them under surveillance, and that’s exactly what they would do for a first offense.

Within the Orion Empire was a law known as the Temporal Directive, or TD for short. One of the more obscure laws, it prohibited non-requested interaction with cultures of inferior technology and/or development. As one of the Temporal Guard’s more public duties, they took it quite seriously, and the punishments for exposing a culture or a people to a more advanced way of life before they were willing or ready were quite severe.

Steven stripped off his adaptive camouflage suit and dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, walked to the lab’s incubation tube. Inside was “Jim,” and he had been living, sedated, under their careful watch for a few hours now. Jim was the next step in the research, and unfortunately, kidnapping a Vesperian was the only sure way to study them up close while still observing the TD. Steven didn’t necessarily feel good about it, but he didn’t feel bad about it either. Science had always required a sort of moral flexibility.

“How’s he doing?” Marissa asked, walking up from behind.

“Vitals are stable,” Steven replied. “And his looks don’t betray him…he’s a strong, healthy man…somewhere between the ages of 25-27.”

“What do we know about him?” Marissa continued.

“He’s a single young male,” someone replied. “Somewhat of a womanizer…but he has few permanent connections and won’t be missed for a few days.”

Steven looked at Marissa, who was now scowling as she looked Jim in the eyes, had his eyes been open. Steven chuckled quietly. She was almost becoming a caricature of herself, predictable as ever.

“How was Fred today?” someone else asked.

“Being a typical male,” Marissa replied. A couple of the scientists sneered at the remark, but Marissa could care less. To her, they were just proving her right. “George was where we had our own problem?”

“George?” the scientist asked. They hadn’t code-named anyone the same names as themselves as to avoid confusion. “Atwater?”

“He fell down the hill,” Steven replied, still not believing it happened. “Alerted Fred to our position. Now we’ll have to find a new one, which sucks, since that was the best damn lookout spot on this planet.”

“I guess…” Marissa started, looking for George before she continued. He had left the lab for the living quarters. “I guess it doesn’t matter though. If we can’t bug his house soon we’ll have to move on. I’m tired of watching a silent movie.”

“I’m just tired of Marissa adding the words,” Steven added, prompting a chuckle from the scientist. Once again, Marissa shot him a weird look. Apparently she didn’t find that funny either. Steven took a deep breath. “I’ll go tonight,” he announced. “If I go alone I’ll have a better chance of planting them without the dogs noticing…and if I have to…I’ll tranq them for an hour or so.”

Marissa nodded reluctantly. As much as she wanted to be there, Steven was right, yet again. They had tried twice together, and both time had to run back in the dark away from the sounds of barking dogs. Big, barking dogs. “He’s already probably on high alert because of today,” Marissa said. “I don’t want you to meet the business end of a shotgun as you break into his house. He’s proved to be irrational when provoked…he’ll probably shoot you.”

“I’ll bring an extra tranq,” Steven replied, a nervous smile crossing his face. As excited as he was to play secret agent, there were certain aspects of the job that were absolutely frightening, hence why he was a scientist. He got to go to the exotic locations, and meet foreign people, but the only thing he shot was film. He didn’t get the girl either.

“Just be careful, please,” Marissa begged. Steven thought his answer would be rather redundant. Was he going to say ‘no?’

“Yeah,” he replied, nevertheless. He stretched his arms over his head. “I need a shower and some sleep if I’m going to be up all night,” he said while walking to his quarters. “I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

Marissa smiled as he left, turning her focus back to Jim. She frowned. In three days Jim would wake up back in his bed in his house, and he would find that four days of his life had past by without him living them, or without having any memory of what had occurred. Marissa could only imagine how frustrating that would have to be, not only for Jim, but for the few people who tried to contact him.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she walked to, and sat down at, her monitor to input the recordings the binoculars had gathered from today. She was not looking forward to watching George’s recording. There was only so long you could stare at a cow.

Chris cursed loudly. He was mad. Very mad. The holopad was showing him the game he's been waiting for all year, a game of tactical placement and intellectual challenge. A game everyone knew, but few could play. The game itself required intense focus and deep silence as pieces fell into place, as the match unfolded and new avenues of possibility opened up. But that was the game of life...and tetris...

"I was this close!" Chris said, bringing his thumb and index finger about a centimeter close together, facing Sun, a longtime friend, who lounged about on the couch. "This close to beating the bugger!"

Then he turned to face his opponent, COW, or Camera on Wheels, as Chris had dubbed him. The robot was basically, what his name implied, a camera driven around on a set of wheels with basic enough programming to keep it from running into things and getting stepped on. To help with it's joke of a name, it was also panted white with large black circular spots. However with the more recent upgrade of Chris', it had seemingly become a master at tetris. It's tiny, pole-like arms used small pins and needles to pick at the controller in front of it as it stared with it's single lens up at the screen.

Chris sighed and cursed again as he walked towards COW to turn it off, however the little robot decided against it, using it's sensors to detect it's creator, running away before Chris could push its off switch.

The engineer sighed again and plopped on the couch next to Sun. He gave her a cocky smile, as if nothing had ever happened. "So...tell me why you didn't want to go to the closest zoo and watch slugs mate? That's exciting, right?" It was as exciting as watching paint dry...

Sun had "dragged" Chris on this expedition. Sun was always the studious, wanting to know everything about anything, kind of person- atleast to Chris. And Vespia was a gold mine of knowledge for her. When she suddenly confronted Chris to go with her to a trip to Vespia, he only laughed, thinking it was some sort of joke. When he found out it was true, he decided to have a little more fun with her. He began to name off all these other, very boring places they could visit instead. Although he really did want to go, especially with Sun. A moment away from her boyfriend and with Chris was great news for him. So he agreed, after some simple persuading on Sun's part.

Since college, Chris had been close friends with Sun, taking the same classes for quite a while. In fact, much to the help of Sun, Chris had passed his classes with flying colors.

Chris was a smart kid ( a term applicable considering he acts like one often), doing his homework, performing his duties, getting up to the top. But, he couldn't have done it without Sun. He was a complete slacker and truly lazy. He rarely studied in college and only did his homework once in a while. Without her knowing, to this very day, Chris had even cheated on a good portion of his tests by copying off her answers, which tended to be right for about ninety-eight percent of the time.

However, Chris found himself fascinated by robots, while Sun found herself fascinated with Chemistry, two very different paths. Luckily for Chris, robotics was easy enough for him to do. It was even fun enough for him to stop slacking...momentarily...

But he couldn't help but miss his friend. If one could call her that. Chris had become enamored with her, not wanting to leave her side for it. He cared for her every minute he had and, despite the teasing, loved her even without all the college help. But he felt slightly rejected when he found out she began to date some other "chump"...some Demitri Nikolaiovich IV.

"Do you miss," Chris paused and sat up straight, pulling off the best Russian accent he could muster, "Demitri Nikolalavichy the Twentieth?"

He chuckled and held Sun's soft, smooth hand. "Come, let Demitri show you to his private yacht. The Nikolalavichy's have always liked to show off," he said, still mocking her boyfriend.

How Chris wished she would quit her relationship with Demitri and start anew with Chris. But alas, in Chris' eyes, it seemed Sun only viewed him as a good friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You are just upset because you can’t hold a damn girlfriend to save your life. Demitri is a respectable, hardworking, and doesn’t go to the zoo to see slugs,” she snapped at him, her own accent kicking in a bit. “Basically everything that you are not.” She sat up straight. She always had amazing posture. “And the ONLY reason I didn’t bring him with me instead is because he has a conference in Summerset to attend. The only reason I picked you was because he, Tyffany, Blake, Richard, Jennifer, and Michael all had previous plans. Maybe…just maybe if you actually did something with your life, you would be the 6th person I call instead of the 7th. It would be close,” She picked her hand up and placed her thumb and index finger close together mocking him. “This close.” She shot him a glare before walking into her room and changing.

Truth be told, she liked Chris. Maybe a little too much for her own liking, but the boy was absolutely useless without his robots. Demitri was funny, smart, gorgeous, condescending, and controlling, but the last two she could deal with. He was better than Chris at least. Demitri had a career.

“The moment you get a private yacht from playing Tetris, let me know. It should be about the same time when Pluto is no longer a planet. It will never happen.” She called from the room, and then stepped outside. “And you’ll never have descendents with a number after their names, for women attracted to a guy like you must be crazy…” She threw a pair of keys towards him. She was wearing a grey skirt with a white blouse and black boots. She would not have worn that at work, but this wasn’t really work. This was fun, at least to her. Her auburn hair was pulled back from her face and her impossibly blue eyes seemed to punch a hole right through him. “Demitri wouldn’t have left me on the couch alone to go off and play video games,” she hissed at him finishing with a pleasant smile implying something by the tone of her voice. She wanted him to be angry. He didn’t play video games when he was angry.

“Let’s go,” she commanded.

"Hey wait a minute, wait a minute! I am respectable...and hardworking...perhaps not so much, but I can be! And-And...I got nothing about the slugs..." Chris retorted. As she escaped from view to change, Chris smiled broadly as he looked around for COW. He loved it when she got angry- her accent made her all the more beautiful. But beauty had it's drawbacks. The fiery woman knew how to give a wallop. Chris's right hand instinctively felt along his left for a more recent bruise he got from her. "And I can too hold a girlfriend! It's just...none of the right girls have approached me yet..."

He finally found COW hiding behind the couch. "There you are," Chris whispered as he looked at the room where Sun went to. He was always tempted to send COW on secret reconnosance in Sun's room when she was changing... But if she found out, Chris had no doubt he'd lose his head. Risky business- that's what Chris loved...sometimes...when he had the motivation for it.

"Atleast I am on the list, right? Besides, Demitri doesn't have COW! I do- I build robots! Doesn't that count for anything?" Chris replied, with a bit of hope in his voice.

"And tetris is for COW. I only test him and his new program. Really!" Chris rebuttled. But he didn't admit he really enjoyed Tetris. Who doesn't enjoy tetris? He smiled and shook his head.

When she came out in her attire, Chris immediately turned his eyes towards her. Lucky jerk, Demitri... he thought jealously as her looked her up and down. His fists clenched ever so slightly.

"Hey now, wait a minute!" Chris started when she accused him of leaving her for video games. "I didn't leave you! I was close enough! Besides, you looked like you were about to fall asleep! If I woke you up while you were asleep, I'd get beaten to a pulp!" He caught the keys and looked up at her with an inquisitive face. All this talk of Demitri was getting him worked up and Sun probably knew it. If Demitri was half the man he is...he would be here instead of a conference...

"Yes master," Chris said with a faint smirk to Sun when she commanded them to go. He got up, taking a glance at his own clothing. Definately not work clothes, nor stylish. He wore simple jeans, and a plain white T-shirt he tucked in his pants. He enjoyed the look whenever he saw Sun. The sleeves were a little too small so they accented his biceps- which he earned in college. Luckily, Chris doesn't eat much...

"Wait- What, where, and why now?" Chris asked as he was already walking outside the door.

Simon Federov was sitting on the edge of the other man's desk, sipping a cup of coffee that he had brewed a few minutes earlier and looking at the framed picture hung crookedly on the wall. He was distracted for a moment by the burning hot coffee and the words from the man to his left, "Then what?"

"Uh? Oh, right." He turned down to face the other man, James Fenway, who was looking up at him and leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. "Then they did something I can't quite fathom. The man just kind of got pissant-drunk and went outside to sleep in the stables of the inn. I don't think anyone saw him, and I don't think anyone really cared."

"Was he the town drunk? That's not uncommon, from what old films I've seen," the younger man replied.

"No, no," Simon said, taking another sip of his coffee. "He was wearing a suit and tie, he was clean-shaven, he seemed high-class. It was bizarre."

"Have you been following him?"

"No, no, he just wandered in. For as long as he stays, I've nicknamed him Jay."

"You seem kind of preoccupied, Simon," James said.

Simon set down his mug and stood up, walking over and leaning against a wall to get a better look at the other man. "It's just that every case study I've ever heard of, and the one I took part in before, those studying it just walk in and interact with the people. I don't really understand why we can't just do that. These active camouflage suits are shit, and I can't even hear what they're saying half the time without a directional mic that sticks out like a sore thumb."

James grinned. "That's why I'm happy to be the analyst. I don't ever have to go into the field. I just get to hear you complain about it."

Simon shook his head sadly, his attention drawn back to the picture. He pointed at it lazily, from the elbow. "Who's that in the picture?"

"What?" James turned his head. "That's my girlfriend and my kid. He's gonna be two years old in a few months."

Great, Simon thought. I've set him off on a proud parent rant. It turned out he was wrong. James dropped the subject.

"On the other hand, maybe you can get something out of Jim and his mannerisms, possessions, clothes. Got to be something there for a skilled anthro like yourself," James said, trying to draw Simon's attention away from his attractive girlfriend lest he establish a vested interest.

"Ah, fuck it," Simon replied, giving James all the information he needed. "What I really want is to put on a wig, maybe some glasses, and go back and pretend to be James. Then we could find out something real about their culture. Get an inside viewpoint. We've been here for what, a couple months? Maybe a bit less. Anyway, we haven't got pretty much anything on these people besides clothing of rural residents and some basic observations and extrapolative data based off what we've seen them do. Not heard them do, not understood by analyzing the language, but what we've seen them physically do."

"Speaking of the language, I think from the wires we got in Susan's house, and her interactions with husband and kids, I think I'm actually managing to get some of the language down. For this region, anyway," James said, trying to spare himself from Simon's temper at their rules of engagement with the natives.

Simon raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Good job, Jimmy. I thought it'd take you another couple months to start getting the basics."

"I'm still having some trouble conjugating verbs. I hear them use a word and from its context I can guess what they're saying, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to get the verbs grouped together, conjugated, and stuff. Transcribing it into written Latin letters is a bitch too."

"So this is what you do on your spare time, Jimmy?"

James grinned. "Hey, you're the one that complains about not having enough data and, I quote, "the shitty techniques we have to use to collect it". I have to have data to analyze, so in my spare time I listen in on Susie and her kids while the husband's at work. I think I can say 'Settle down!', 'Shut up or I'll smack you' and 'Daddy will be home soon' perfectly."

Simon laughed. "So ... What if I brought you video of their lips, could you try and read the lips and see what they were saying?"

"I could try, yeah," James said, nodding his head.

Simon smiled, a glimmer of hope in their allowed techniques shining through. "I'll get on that next time I'm out." He straightened up to his full six feet tall, clapped his friend on the shoulder, and turned to the door. Putting a hand on the doorframe, he turned slightly. "See you around. I'm gonna check up on Jim." He gave one last look at the picture on the wall, shook his head as if to say I don't get it, and walked out.

Steven sighed as he stepped into the water, the warmth of the steam taking his breath away ever so slightly. His nap has been fulfilling but not quite long enough, for the nervous anticipation of tonight’s activities had been enough to keep him awake. He took his time showering, trying to relax as much as possible. His mind, and his adrenaline for that matter, was racing.

As he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waste, everything that could go wrong in his mission tonight passed through his thoughts. Steven shook his head; that wasn’t how he should be thinking. Flashing a worried smile at himself in the mirror, he stepped into his room. Marissa was waiting.

“Oh,” she almost gasped, turning her head. “I wasn’t aware that you were…”

“It’s alright,” Steven said, his smile becoming more genuine. He laughed to himself. She almost seemed more nervous than he.

“I came to give you the tranquillizer gun,” Marissa said, her head still turned as Steven dressed himself. The thought of peeking crossed her mind, but almost instantly she decided against it. After all, he was almost forty years her minor, and her business partner and friend on top of that.

“I could have picked it up myself, you know,” Steven chuckled, throwing the camouflage shirt over his head. Adaptive Camouflage was almost undetectable at long range, however for up-close situations like Steven would be experiencing tonight, it simply couldn’t adapt fast enough, and if it could, it still wouldn’t look natural.

“Excuse me for trying to be nice,” Marissa muttered. “I worry about you.”

“Then come along,” Steven said. “I could use a look-out anyhow.” Marissa had been waiting for this, but of course, she could never have asked herself.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled. Steven shook his head. He knew she had wanted to come from the beginning, even if for her it would just be watching him from the woods. She quickly ran to her room to change, promising to meet Steven at the main gate.

Steven finished getting ready in front of the mirror, painting his face dark green and black and putting a black skullcap over his dirty blonde hair. He looked like an operative of some sort. However, as he flexed for himself in the mirror, he noted that his physique needed worked to make such a costume believable. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, he ran as often as he could, he just didn’t look like he could wrestle a twelve-year-old, let alone another grown man.

Marissa met him at the front door as she promised, her hair tied back and her face painted as well, and Steven wondered to himself who looked more ridiculous in their respective outfits. The gun at his side and the backpack full of bugs on his back, Steven tried to avoid the looks of everyone else in the cave. It mattered little that they knew he had to dress that way; he was sure to catch flack for it later on. Taking a deep breath, Steven opened the door to the cave and walked into the cool night air, Marissa following close behind.

The walk to Fred’s farm was uneventful, and the cool air felt refreshing. The cave often got stuffy after spending too much time indoors. The moon was what worried Steven more than anything, for it was almost full. Although that did wonders for their journey, they barely needed flashlights; it concerned him that he would be more easily detected.

As Marissa set up her night vision binoculars on the same hill they had been at earlier in the day, Steven had already snuck down to the barn and leaned up against it with his back, waiting for the signal.

“Agent Bradford,” Marissa said over the comm. Steven could hear her chuckling in the background. “Do you copy?”

“I really wish you would take this more seriously,” Steven replied. “I’m the one down here with the dogs and the guns.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Marissa said. “By the way, the dogs are asleep, but I wouldn’t take any chances.”

“Agreed,” Steven said, looking back across his left shoulder at the dogs, his back still up against the barn wall. Dropping to one knee and raising his weapon, he fired a dart at a dog. “Shit,” he whispered as the dart hit into the side of the house. He had missed by at least a foot. Raising the gun, he aimed again, lower this time. The sleeping dog didn’t even make a sound as the dart pierced its back, putting it to sleep for at least a few hours.

Steven proceeded to shoot the other two dogs, and made sure to pick up all four darts and carefully store them in a case. The door was locked, but he picked it as he was taught before the mission and cautiously walked into the house. The old farm house was dark, as small compared to what Steven was used to, but he quietly snuck from room to room planting bugs, even so much as going into bedrooms while Fred’s family was asleep.

He wondered to himself what Fred’s plan was for security, seeing as how he, a scientist with a month’s worth of pre-mission training, had snuck in so easily. That was before he walked into Bob, the teenage son’s room, and found it empty. It didn’t hit him at first as he scampered around the room placing bugs, but as he stared down at the bed, he realized that if Bob wasn’t there, then he had to be somewhere.

Steven checked it watch: 12:37 am. Fred’s family has always been one to go to bed early, but perhaps Bob stayed out later. Steven crossed his fingers, hoping that Bob was simply over at a friend’s, but as he stepped out of Bob’s bedroom, he learned to late how wrong he was.

Bob struck fast, his left fist connecting squarely with Steven’s jaw, sending him flying into a closet door and dropping the tranquilizer gun to the floor of the hallway. Steven felt dazed, but as Bob ran at him through the dark for a second blow, he quickly ducked out of the way and dashed down the hallway.

Steven was fast, but Bob was faster, and he tackled Steven to the ground from behind. Bob shouted something that Steven didn’t understand as Steven struggled on the ground. Bob was easily overpowering him.

Marissa, who had heard the commotion over Steven’s comm, raced into the house just in time, shooting Fred, who had just opened his door an inch, with her tranquilizer gun before he had the chance to see anything. Bob had Steven pinned to the floor, but Marissa’s entrance gave Steven enough time to wriggle free, and reach for his own weapon. Bob made a quick dash to the gun cabinet, but was promptly shot by both Marissa and Steven in the back.

“I…” Steven said, his voice and hands shaking. “I didn’t see him…” Marissa didn’t reply, quickly shooting both the mother and the daughter up with drugs. “He came home late…I didn’t notice…”

“Steven,” Marissa said, her voice stern but not angry. “Stop worrying about it. What’s done is done. Now we must move quickly.” She removed the darts from everyone who was shot and picked up a large flower pot from the kitchen window. “Get Fred back into bed,” she ordered Steven, and wincing, looked down at Bob, who was sprawled out on the ground. Swallowing heavily, she dropped the pot on his head, which broke and effectively gashed the back of Bob’s head.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steven shrieked as he came out of Fred’s bedroom.

“We have to make it look like a robbery,” Marissa said, feeling sick in her stomach. From what she could tell, Steven felt the same way. “Break the lock on the front door,” She told him. “I know where they keep their valuables.”

Within five minutes the two of them had left the house. Everyone was asleep, and would be for house. Marissa had effectively committed assault and robbery, but both of these crimes paled in comparison to what would become to them if they had broken the Temporal Directive. Marissa was pissed, Steven could feel it, and neither said a word on the long walk back.

For a good while, George honestly had considered going back to look for his mini PADD. He had paid a fortune for it, and it was only the fact that he still had a fortune remaining that made him decide otherwise. Still, he would not get one until he returned. George frowned; now he would be even more bored.

Tired of his room, George wandered out to the lab. He rarely ventured to that part of the cave, instead preferring his own personal amusements within his quarters. His eyes quickly scanned the place, looking for something to catch their interests, and after a short while, something did.

There was a man, naked except for a sheet covering his privates, laid out on a table within a massive glass tube in the middle of the room. How had I not seen this before? George ran up to the tube, pressing his hands against the glass. He didn’t recognize the man, therefore he knew from where he had come.

George felt sick. He had financed kidnapping. This entire operation had his name on it, and while he had planned on making a fortune from his contribution, he had not planned on landing in prison. George’s high strung fear subsided somewhat, however, when his eyes came to the face of the man on the table.

The man was asleep, as George should have been at this hour, but George felt a far greater connection to that man. George, most definitely, no longer wanted to be here. He could only imagine that the man on the table, if he knew where he was, wouldn’t want to be here either.

As the door opened and slammed shut behind him, George jumped. He turned around to see Steven and Marissa standing before him, dressed in camo and black with their faces painted the same.

“Where were you two?” George asked, but he was ignored. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Marissa, listen, I’m sorry,” Steven pleaded. He could not remember feeling more miserable.

“I’m afraid we’ve had a slight mishap,” Marissa said, now ignoring Steven as well as she handed the access codes to the bugs they had just planted over to James for analysis. The audio/visual bugs started working the moment they were planted, and undoubtedly had recorded the entire struggle. Marissa would deal with that later.

“I really didn’t…” Steven continued, but Marissa cut him off. There was no point to this.

“Steven listen,” Marissa began. “You fucked up. Admit it. Learn from it. Move on. That’s all you can do. I’m sure an “armed robbery” will leave a lasting impression on this family that we’d rather not have had, but the bigger danger was avoided. The bigger picture, and our careers for that matter, was saved. Tomorrow I’ll be able to see them talk to the police and such. That’s our job. Observation and analysis.”

“You’ll be able to?” Steven asked. He had the feeling he had just made his last outing for some time.

“Don’t take it as an insult,” Marissa said. “You have something else to attend to.” She paused, trying to find a smile, but she couldn’t. “Besides, you’re a biologist…not a secret agent. In the lab, you’re the best I’ve ever worked with. You don’t make…mistakes…here.”

“What happened?” George asked. They ignored him yet again.

“I need to clear my head,” Steven said, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He reopened the door to the outside. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Damnit, doctor, what the hell is going on?” George shouted. He was going to make himself heard. “You kidnapped one of them? For what reason? And then police? What the hell did you do tonight?”

“George, you came here as an observer,” Marissa snapped. “Now sit back and watch us do our job. You’re going to be making no more trips out of this bunker, and if that’s not enough for you and you decide to complain, you’re going to be confined to quarters.”

“Excuse me?” George replied. “I’m not the one breaking the law.”

“You broke it today when you fell down that hill,” Marissa responded. “I’ve had to save two people’s asses from breaking the Temporal Directive in less than twenty-four hours. I’m sick and tired of it.”

“I can pull the plug on this at any time,” George said. Marissa glared at him.

“You signed a contract with the government,” Marissa said. She knew the inner-workings of the Empire far too much. “If you pull out, you’re not given your money back. Your name’s just taken off the form. You’re almost worse than the Empire. If you want your share of the findings, you better stay the hell out of our way from now on.”

George was furious. He had been tricked, it seemed, by the government themselves! But he was wrong; the Empire was always completely upfront about deals such as these. When people like George financed expeditions, they signed a contract keeping the government out, and then the Empire bought the findings of the expedition from the patron. Although the Empire usually paid far less than the actual value of the findings, it was almost always more than the front money paid by the patron. The government was at no loss for funding, and this kept them from researching things that they didn’t want to in the first place, yet couldn’t avoid to pass up. So, when Marissa referred to keeping the expedition independent, this is as independent as it got in the Empire.

Outside, Steven was coming down from an emotional train wreck. He had botched the mission, broken the law, lost a fight, and worst of all, embarrassed and infuriated the one person he looked up to the most. He felt his jaw with his hand; it was quite sore and would most definitely leave a mark. If Bob had been any older, the punch would have almost assuredly have broken his jaw. Steven felt pathetic; the boy was no older than seventeen.

The changing air temperature, which had been gradually dropping, seemed to have plateaued. It was chilly, but Steven minded little, nor barely noticed it. His mind was somewhere else, swirling in a vat of chaos that did nothing but give him a headache. ”That’s the pinnacle,” he said out loud to himself. “I failed so bad I got physical pain from it.”

“I think we’ve had enough drama for one day,” Marissa said, stepping outside. She put her hand on his shoulder, the mother and friend in her coming out as the angered boss receded. “It’s not entirely your fault. We were thrown out here without a game plan, only an objective…and objective that we don’t even know if it’s possible to achieve or not.” She shook her head. “It could be as simple as something that they were born with. A gene, or an adaptation, that allows them to avoid lifescanners. It could be as simple as the fact that since no one knew of their existence, lifescanners could not pick up their different kind of life. They could just be…”

“We both know that’s not true though,” Steven said. “I’ve looked at the data…they’re typical humans. Sure humans have slight differences from planet to planet, which is to be expected given evolution, but when it comes down to it they’re all the same.” Marissa smiled. She had taught him that on their first mission together, before he had graduated. “The thing is, these humans speak a language never heard before, and yet their culture is strikingly similar to that of many human societies given their technology level. They’re barely different to Earth a century or so ago, or Steel Butterfly and other Orion Sector planets two millennia ago. And lifescanners have picked up countless other species at first contact, species far more different than the Vespians. It doesn’t add up.”

“Then it’s your job to figure it out,” Marissa said. “My role here is administration. I’m doing observations for the experience, and because of the opportunity. You’re one of the ones who have to figure it all out,” she continued, examining Steven’s jawline. There was a sizeable bruise already appearing, but the swelling was minimal. “We need you healthy and able to do that.”

Steven nodded in agreement. Suddenly, he began to notice the cold. Opening the door to the cave, he led Marissa back inside.

Alfonso grumbled as he listened to another jumbled paragraph of conversation between the two teenage boys. Maybe I really should've brought a linguist with me... Still, he squinted his eyes and concentrated on the speech. A lateral fricative here, a dental plosive there... or maybe it was alveolar? Alfonso excelled in history (he was after all, an archaeologist), and held a degree in cultural anthropology, which includes the study of language's effect on society, but he had never excelled in the field of linguistics itself. Sure, compared to his friend Michael Stanley, he was damn near genius when it came to linguistic analysis, but Michael wasn't a social scientist -- he dealt with the natural world, conducting the experiments to determine the chemical composition, age, etc. of whatever Alfonso and his team happened to have dug up that day.

Alfonso peered through his binoculars again. "Tina," as he called her, was undressing again. Alfonso laughed. It was the second time this week she had left open her curtains for the world to see her in all her natural beauty. And she was indeed beautiful. Nicely sized breasts, a butt to revere, and a type of glow that would make any man's jaw drop in awe.

"Al, dammit, stop ogling the lady, and show some damn respect. We came to study Vespia, not to satisfy our sexual needs."

Alfonso turned to his side. Michael Stanley, his compatriot from Wallace University, laid beside him. Alfonso shook his head and smiled. "Yeah, Mike, I'm sure you haven't taken a peak at the local stock since we arrived here. Besides, we've been here all damn day. Rich'll have plenty of work to do tonight organizing that data for analysis."

"Do you really think Melissa would appreciate you taking advantage of her while you're away?" Michael replied.

"I was unaware that simply watching a woman undress counted as cheating. Get over it, Mike."

"That's not the point," Mike said. "The point of the matter is you've been ogling the local women every since we've gotten here, and not only is it ethically questionable, but it's also detracting from our time to do what we came here for."

Alfonso sighed. "Loosen the hell up, Mike. You've been a real bitch ever since we've got here. But," Alfonso said, sighing again, "let's just drop the matter. Look, Cornelia and Jeff are arriving home. And," he continued, "apparently Dan and Sean are coming out to greet them. What a nice family." He chuckled. The two boys were leaving; it was hardly in character for the young ruffians to greet their parents in any cordial manner.

Cornelia/Jeff and Dan/Sean conversed. Though Mike couldn't understand a word, the mood obviously indicated tension. The boys, apparently, according to the data they had collected, had gotten into trouble with the law some time in the past, weakening any trust their parents placed in them. At least, according to the team's data analyst who had done the most work in deciphering the Vespian language.

Why the hell was a chemist on a planet on what was mostly an anthropological endeavor, anyway? The planet itself was plainly visible from any telescope, and he could easily determine its mean density, axial tilt, atmospheric composition, mass, etc. from a few tests, so what other interest could a chemist have in the study of human interactions? The planet had been able to avoid lifesign detectors, despite the obviously advanced technology that the space-faring nations possessed. Whereas Alfonso was interested in the social development of an isolated human civilization who bore resemblances to an earlier time in Earth's own history, yet possessed many unique cultural differences... Mike was interested in the possible chemical/biological/physical reasons behind this anomaly.

Mike scratched his head, and looked at his watch. The night sky confirmed it -- it was getting late. "Al, we should probably pack it in for the night. I don't know about you, but I'm cold as hell, and hungry as hell, too."

"Holy shit, Mike, I actually can agree with you on something today! Just need to make a few more cursory checks on the integrity of the instruments, and we'll go," Alfonso said.

The night sky had darkened, and the climate had taken a turn to a more brisk, frigid weather pattern. Richard yawned. The past two days had been hardly quiet. As the main technician and database manager of the New Genoese team, it was Richard's job to process and categorize Alfonso's and Mike's findings from each day, and then send it to the project leader for final analysis and categorization. It was a grueling job, but enjoyable all the same.

From afar, he heard Mike and Al's voices. Pushing aside the clutter of papers that littered his desk, he turned around to greet them.

"Anything interesting?" he asked.

"Yeah, apparently Tina's been tanning. Making her all the more voluptuous," Al said.

"Anything relevant?" Rich added.

Al frowned. "Nothing really that we haven't already suspected. The family is obviously experiencing serious financial problems, and the criminal behavior of their two sons is just compounding the stress even more. Although, interestingly, we did see several new visitors today that we hadn't observed before, several men dressed in suits, but we couldn't derive much from them. Possibly political candidates judging from their attire, and their visit to every house on the street."

"Anything new from Ms. Cornelia's 'male friend' who isn't her husband, but nevertheless likes to rub up against her?" Rich asked.

"Didn't see him today," Mike replied. "Drama, drama."

"You picked a good one." Rich laughed.

"Get to work, ya lazy bastard," Al said, handing Rich his stack of notes, the digital recordings of the day, and several photographs.

Several hours passed, and Mike sat alone in his room. He felt sick again. The room temperature was mild, but it felt like he was melting. Maybe he was still getting used to the gravity, and the slightly different mixture of gases in the atmosphere. Hell, it could've been the chicken they had at lunch. Nevertheless, he was sweating, and spending the night alone once more. He sighed, and decided to continue reading his novel, perhaps the only thing that kept from boredom while he sat alone in his insomniac state. He was on another planet, studying foreign chemicals -- an isolated people for God's sake. Yet he felt sick, and lonely (though that was nothing new, perhaps). Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.

"I'm telling you, Rich, we're gleaning shit from this society. Our assumptions are shaky at best -- the only way I can get any meaningful information from this family is to approach them. I'm not too particularly fond of the Steel Empire team's methods... kidnapping and whatnot, so the only real way to glean any more useful info is to talk these guys. Even if it's only through rudimentary hand signals, or whatever, it would be far more useful than sitting on my ass all day watching girls undress and listening to the all too common youth rebellion against parental control. Shit, we barely know anything about their religion or political climate. I've barely been able to perform any archaeological surveys."

Rich's brows furrowed. "You know Mike would..."

"I damn well know that Mike would disapprove. Defying the Imperial Temporal Directive or some utter pile of shit. Damn full faith and credit." He sighed. "Anyway, keep Mike at bay tomorrow. Have him analyze something -- the soil acidity, chemical composition of the rocks, whatever. He sure as hell loves doing that than he does sitting around watching human interaction. You know how humans and him are... mortal enemies and whatnot..."

Rich frowned. "Thought he was your friend."

"He is. He can just be... too quiet, too isolated. Throughout college he barely said a word to a girl, let alone date one. I don't know... but he likes what he does, and I'm doing him a favor by letting him conduct his little experiments tomorrow. We've done this before, anyways, so he shouldn't suspect anything unless you fuck up and make it seem like you're trying to hide something. Anyway, I'm going to bed, you?" Al yawned.

"After a few SQL queries."

"Whatever, man, night. By the way," he said reaching into his pocket, "if anything goes wrong, I'll have you on comm." He tossed Rich his communication and nodded, before exiting the room. Tomorrow, he had a date with his friends.

Alfonso Anderson - Michael Stanley - Richard Robertson

Sun walked out of the door without even answering. In the soft rays of light that scattered down from the sky made her hair appear like it was shimmering with copper amongst the rich, light brown strands. She had lightly tanned skin and full lips with piercing eyes. She could really have any man she wanted, if she wasn’t so work oriented. Her impossibly blue eyes glimmered like the ocean, hardly reflecting the years spent in the lab researching chemicals and proceeding with experiments.

She did not wait for Chris, but rather walked ahead at a steady pace, her heels clicking deliberately on the ground. She was a woman with a mission; let Chris catch up, if he could. He was only holding her back. Her living quarters were not so far from his, but it did require a bit of walking. She shifted the edge of her shirt, fixing it so that the fabric was smooth across her body. She felt like she was being observed, and immediately a look devoid of emotion crossed her face except for determination.

She had a cross on the back of her wrist; a Celtic cross done in black ink. Normally she kept it covered but for some reason she had forgotten to. She blamed it on Chris. She was not only a woman of science, but one of faith. It had been four years since her parents were taken from her; killed in a fire that was said to be an accident, even though no one really believed that it was. How could it be? Her pace slowed as she touched the tattoo on her wrist, running her smooth fingertips over the raised skin. When she noticed she was doing this she immediately stopped. She was conscious of the fact that when she did that, she was either irritated or impatient.

They had finally reached their destination, and it took Sun a few seconds to realize it and open the door into her living quarters. There was a good deal of electronic equipment and computer things, all of which did not belong to her. She sat in a chair at the side of the room, and looked at her nails while speaking to Chris who had just shown is face at the door. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

The Corporate Cathedral
The Planet of Bivens

“As you wish,” Valkare said over the visual comm extending his hand as if giving something. The false gesture was only fake in detail, for as he spoke he was, in fact, giving the Emperor his report.

Emperor David Bivens pretended to look it over carefully. He had, in truth, little interest in what it said. The purpose of the report was to annoy Valkare, adding another thing to his busy schedule. Apparently Valkare didn’t mind as much as Bivens had thought. “I’ll read over it later,” the Emperor said.

“Of course,” General Jack Valkare replied. He knew exactly what the reports were for; the Emperor had become far more transparent as of late. Still, if he wanted the planet preserved until the study was done, he would have to play along. “How’s the war?”

“I would think that it’d be me asking you,” Bivens said. “You’re the one on the front lines.”

“I’d hardly call where I am the front lines,” Valkare muttered. He was where all “good generals” were: behind a desk. “I meant the reaction at home.”

“The people are generally apathetic,” Bivens replied, frowning. “It worries me. They don’t seem to care if we win or lose.”

“It’s a foreign war,” Valkare replied. “One that doesn’t effect them…and one that they probably don’t understand.” Valkare had often thought himself among these people, as Bivens’s motivations for expansion were cloudy as best.

“Still…men are dying…” Bivens responded. “You’d think they’d care.”

“More are dying on the streets,” Valkare said. It wasn’t meant to be a personal attack; it was simply a fact. “These little wars of yours bear no chance of loss, and little chance of casualty. Our force is so overwhelming that our soldiers grow bored in the middle of battle. That’s why no one cares.”

“It’s your war as well, General,” Bivens replied. He was growing tired of the General’s complaints. “War your job, after all. At least take some pride in it.”

“Fate has made me a man of war,” Valkare said, his voice stern and tense. “I can only hope that history books do not.”

“The reluctant soldier,” Bivens sneered. “How touching…”

“Not quite...I neither despise war nor run from it,” General Valkare replied. “But I respect it…more than anything. As a soldier, war will come to you, and as a soldier you will fight. But if you look for war, as you are, the worst thing you can do is find it.”

Chris paused at the doorway to smile at Sun. He's seen her a million times but it never got old. He brushed his hand across his black hair and took a step out, following behind her, his eyes occasionally falling to her hips. "You know, I think I like the weather here. Even in "the Cave"," he chuckled, bending his index and middle finger simultaniously on both hands when he mentioned the research lab.

As Chris followed behind, he noticed his friend touching her wrist- a habit he had learned was one that told him something was bothering her. He will bring it up later. Sun's step was too determined to really seem to be bothered at the moment.

As they entered her room, Chris smiled and sat on a rolling chair, twirling himself around once. "I'm glad you did put this in here! Now I can have fun spinning as I do work," he chuckled, trying to get a smile out of Sun. He quietly turned on the electronic equipment and pointed out the beeps and hums of the computers like a conductor cueing the band. He twirled again, and kicked off the floor so his chair would scoot closer to her.

With a concerned face, he gently took her hands and looked at her eyes. "Is something bothering you, Sun?" he whispered quietly. "I am always here for you if you wish to say something- I am as always, your friend and I always will be."

Sun snapped her hands away and stood up, and walked over to him with an unamused expression. She flipped a lock on the back of the chair, and it would no longer spin. She never understood why Chris had to be so childlike and immature. She hated it. Why couldn’t he just do his job and leave the chair spinning to his own, personal time. The fact that he was available and an engineer is what caused her to bring him along even though the invitation to the team had been sent solely to her. She was the top of her class in college, one of the most promising chemistry majors in the nation. The only problem was in order to do what she did best; she would need DNA from these people. Right now they were observing, and all this observing was getting to her. It is pointless just to observe these people. What would lead to better proof would be abducting one of them and running tests. Of course, no one would be stupid enough to do that. Still, if she could some how get her hands on some DNA, she could start mapping out the genome. The only question lay in how to get it.

She threw Chris back to his table. “Make me some machina, Chris.” She said, walking to her lab bench with all her chemicals and equipment on it. He wasn’t allowed five feet near it. “I need a machina that will be able to collect a sample, such as a piece of hair or something to collect DNA, small enough to go unnoticed, and small enough to get into their house somehow. I’ll leave that up to you,” she told him, then seemingly went to work on a project of her own.

The family they were viewing consisted of one male, one female, and two cats. She had given the cats better names because she didn’t think “Fluffy” and “Mau-Mau” sufficed. They were now “Anastacia” and “Japalo”. The subject’s names are Dante and Kate, and all Sun wanted, was a little piece of their DNA.

The police, as expected, arrived shortly after Fred had woken up, only to find his valuables gone and his son sprawled out on the floor beside a broken flowerpot. What Marissa could only guess was the ambulance had come as well, and Bob’s gash on the back of his head was being tended to. He seemed to be in high spirits.

“Looks like he’s gonna pull through,” Steven said over the comm. He was watching the video feed back at the lab.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Marissa replied, as if she was almost offended. Steven easily heard the tone in her voice.

“Just commenting…” he said in return. Neither of them had gotten much sleep, and both were understandably at wits end.

Marissa clasped her coffee mug in both hands. Right now, it was the only thing keeping her awake. She wished more than anything to be able to skip observations today, but of all days, this one could not be skipped. Witnessing the mess they had made, and Fred’s family’s reaction to it, was something that needed analyzed.

“How’s your work coming?” Marissa asked. In truth, she was already missing Steven’s company on these field missions.

“It’s only 6:30,” Steven replied. “My day hasn’t started yet.”

“I’ve been out here for two hours,” Marissa muttered. The officers turned their attention from Fred to Bob. Bob was quickly describing the assailant, which meant that he was describing Steven. She hoped to herself that this conversation would help them transcribe the language a bit faster, since at least they knew who Bob was trying to describe.

After Bob had finished his description, he was led inside by his mother, Anne. The cops then had a private talk with Fred outdoors. Suddenly, the bug went dead. Marissa shook her head, tapping the comm in her ear as she stared down at her target. Surely he was just whispering.

A barking dog betrayed her theory, however, as she could not hear it whatsoever. Quickly she switched channels to indoors, where she could hear water boiling and Anne talking to Jane. Were the outdoor bugs broken?

“Steven?” she asked over the comm.

“What?” Steven asked, groggy. He had been slowly dozing off at the monitor. Just then, as suddenly as it had turned off, the outdoor bug seemed to turn back on.

“Just…” Marissa said. She paused, staring at Fred as he seemed to stare right past the cops, right at her. She shook her head. I really need sleep. “I’m coming in early today. I think one of our bugs is defective. I’m gonna try to fix it remotely from the lab.”

“I could easily do that for you,” Steven replied. “Honestly though all the bugs are up as working fine.” Marissa frowned. If a bug was broken, it would at least register as so.

“Play back bug number seven,” Marissa told him. “Just from five minutes ago.” She waited as he listened to it.

“Nothing weird,” Steven said. “Just a dog barking.” Marissa rubbed her eyes. It didn’t add up.

“Steven, I sat here and watched Fred talk to the cops mere feet from bug number seven,” Marissa admitted. “But I couldn’t hear anything. I thought maybe he was whispering, but then I saw the dog bark, and I couldn’t hear it. And now you play back what the bug recorded and you hear no talking, but you do hear a dog barking. Tell me how that makes sense.”

“Your video’s showing they were talking,” Steven said. “But it seems real hush-hush. Maybe it just wasn’t picked up. Besides, I think your comm is what’s defective. How else could I pick it up but not you?”

“Still…” Marissa started to reply, but she paused once more, looking down on the farm. Fred had gone inside, the police and medical staff had left, and for now, the family was back to normal. Down the road, Marissa could see a vehicle driving down the dead end lane to Fred’s farm. Most likely friends of the family… “I’m coming in. I can’t even think straight right now.”

“I’ll see you here then,” Steven responded.

By the time she got back he was, once again, dozed off at the monitor. Marissa gently squeezed his right shoulder to wake him, and he jumped at the sight of her.

“Tired?” she asked, a weary grin spreading across her face.

“Aren’t we all,” Steven replied. It wasn’t a question. He looked back at the screen, noticing what he had been watching before dozing off. It was a picture of Fred’s face, enlarged now, staring straight into the camera.

“You can’t be serious,” Marissa said. “You think he saw me?”

“I think he knows he’s being watched,” Steven replied. “I think he’s paranoid. Think about it…he heard something in the hills, and then the next day his house is robbed, his son injured. That’s probably what the side conversation with the cops was about. He doesn’t want to worry his family, but I guarantee that he is worried.”

“Well what do you suggest?” Marissa asked. Steven stared at Jim laying on the bed in the glass chamber. Marissa followed his gaze.

“We’re risking too much,” Steven replied. “We’re here for one purpose, and we’re risking our chance in pursuit of other things.” Marissa shot him an odd look. Steven thought back to the shit show that was last night. “I know…I’m no better.”

“I don’t see it as a risk,” Marissa said. “Or at least not a risk that isn’t worth taking. Regardless of if we find some magic way to get our military past life scanners or not, this culture, as we know it, is in its final days. Soon enough this planet will be invaded.”

The hypocritical nature of the Empire made her sick to her stomach. She could get life in prison for breaking the Temporal Directive, and yet if the Empire did it, if the Empire broke its own law, there was no punishment, no responsibility. And for what? There’s little they can gain from these people being citizens. Orion’s already overcrowded as it is. She stared at Fred’s face on the monitor.

“Soon enough their lives will change forever,” she said, as Fred stared back at her, his blue eyes piercing.

Simon's hands were pressed up against the glass case, within which lay a sleeping, docile Jim. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth, showing he was thinking, and closed his eyes. Come on, Jimmy, give me something to work with. Give me something I can use. He looked down to find a smaller glass bubble, beyond Jim's feet, in which lay his personal belongings. Pulling on a pair of white latex gloves, he slid the bubble open and picked up the man's wallet. A few coins, a few bills, an identification card of some sort - the language, the alphabet was completely different - and a picture of a young woman, smiling. Like older, 19th century Earth photographs, it was black and white and faded into pure white around the edges.

"Who are you, Jim?" he whispered aloud. "Tell me who you are."

He set the effects down, slid the bubble closed, and snapped the gloves off. He moved back to the larger glass dome, pressing his hands against the , looking at the prone man's peaceful face. "God damnit, Jim, who the fuck are you? Why can't I take your place or something? I want to know more about you."

He punched the air and walked back to James' room. "Hey, Jimmy," he called out at the doorway. James was listening to something on headphones that covered his ears, sounding out an alien-sounding word phonetically as he did so. Simon walked over, leaned down behind him, and shoved him lightly from behind. He uttered a small shout of terror and tore the headphones away from his ears, spinning in his chair to face Simon. "Asshole!" he shouted. Simon noted that, on the screen, decibel levels were displayed. He assumed James was learning more of the language.

"I'm going to get you some more information. We've got the bugs in Susie and Harry's house, you're getting the language from that, but we need it written as well. I'm going to go to their library, or something like that. Get you some written words, maybe plant some more bugs while I'm at it."

James nodded. "I hope they write with an alphabet, not calligraphy. I just might kill myself if I have to decipher individual words."

Simon shook his head. "I saw Jim's wallet. It looks like an alphabet to me, unless his name is about twenty words long."

James laughed. "Given this world, I wouldn't be surprised if it was," he said.

"Yeah, well. Keep an eye on Susie and Harry. By the way, have you been able to find out what kind of a factory he works in?"

"It's hard, they're individual words that I'm having trouble identifying, but I know a few things. One, he gets paid well. Susie's well off, can afford to stay at home and take care of four kids."

Simon screwed up his face and closed his eyes. "But she's got Jane to help her with that." Jane was Susan and Harold's oldest daughter, they estimated thirteen to sixteen, mostly depending on rate of growth of the Vespians. "He's either a foreman type, or it's a vital industry. I'm guessing definitely not primary."

"We know it's not primary since he goes to a factory. And he's not a shift leader or anything, he works on the stuff. You were there, you made the observation. Coming home on his trike, his hands are covered in grease and sweat. Definitely a worker," James reminded him.

"Yeah, but the factory could be turning logs into lumber. Anyway, it's probably not primary, there's enough of those that he wouldn't get paid enough for all that. They live fairly comfortably. They're not poor like their neighbours. I'm guessing not tertiary, either. Retail never makes much cash."

"That leaves secondary industries," James said, swiveling back and forth in his chair. "What secondary industries are vital enough to pay that much?"

"I'm guessing it's not everyday consumer goods. Nineteenth century toaster ovens wouldn't give him that much cash. If I had to guess, without seeing his work, I'd guess it was either some new industry, like motorized vehicles - we know those are new in their society, they're not everywhere. Just the police, ambulances, etcetera - or some longstanding industry that has to exist and nobody wants to do. Like the arms industry."

"We don't even know if they have war!" James protested. "We've seen no violence in our study of Susie and Harry."

Simon shoved a thumb over his shoulder. "Didn't you hear about Steven and Marissa's big fuckup?"

"Of course I did, but-"

"And what did you tell me about it?"

"The police reacted like this was fairly common, as far as I could tell from the limited response from the bugs."

"So if this is fairly common, and 'this' in question involves dropping a flower pot on a seventeen-year-old kid, doesn't that mean there's violence in their society and it's fairly common?" James sighed and Simon knew he had won against the idealist. "Besides," Simon continued, "from what I've seen violence may be even more prevalent in their society than in ours."

"Why do you say that?"

"You say Susie threatens to hit the kids to make them obey. From what I've seen, occasional acts of violence tend to be overlooked. Harry got into a fight with his neighbour and busted his lip up pretty bad, nobody cared. They acted like it was normal."

"But-" James tried to interrupt.

"Hold up, I'm not done. Violence seems to be an ordinary way of solving disputes. A little bit autocratic, a little bit 'might makes right', but that appears to be the way. I saw Jay - you know I've been keeping tabs on Jay, right? - get in a fight with someone inside the door of a restaurant-type place, then took the guy's spot in line. The staff, instead of asking him to leave, forced the loser to the back of the line and gave Jay his table. It's bizarre."

James sighed and deflated slightly. "I suppose you're right. What were we talking about?"

"I think Harry's working in an arms factory."

"Why? Why not one of the new technologies, that was the other option."

"Because Jane objects to what he does. She's growing up a healthy liberal and seems opposed to violence, from what I've heard from you. Didn't you say she stepped in to accuse Susie of being mean when she threatened to slap one of the other kids?"

James sighed. "I've told you, those were guesses. I don't have the language down. For all I know she might have been offering the girl a cookie and Jane wanted it for herself."

"Don't backtrack on your words," Simon said, mildly angry. "You told me it was a threat and Jane got very up in arms about that. I think she's opposed to conflict, and she frequently gets mad at Harry about what he does. Leads me to believe he works in arms rather than automobiles."

"I think you're right," James said, acceding defeat. "You ought to be the analyst, Holmes."

"Hell no," Simon said, shaking his head and laughing. "If it wasn't for your data, I couldn't have deduced all that, Watson. After all, you're the analyst, I'm the anthropologist. You give me the data and what conclusions you've drawn, and I apply them to our study. Speaking of which, I'm going to go get you some books."

"Try and get-" James began, but Simon cut him off.

"I don't speak the language, I don't know what I'm looking for. I'm going to get the books with the most dust on them so it'll be a while before they notice."

James nodded glumly. "I suppose." Then something occurred to him. "How the hell am I going to understand it? Reading and listening are very different."

"Eh, wake up Jim and get him to read you a bedtime story. You can probably just wipe his memory or something afterwards."

James sighed. "Go. Go on your way. Eat, drink, and be merry."

Simon grinned over his shoulder as he walked out. "I like the drink part. Back soon with some thick books, probably on Vespian tax law."

George kept his mouth quiet as Simon cursed the sleeping Vespian. He felt thoroughly horrible for Jim, the man in the glass cage. It wasn’t so much that he was caged, but that he didn’t know of it, and when he woke up, he will never have known.

Steven approached in medical scrubs looking very much like a surgeon. “Excuse me,” Steven said, ever polite, and George realized that he was again in the way. George quickly moved away from what appeared to be some sort of control panel.

“He’s like a caged animal,” George muttered. Steven sighed; he didn’t feel like an ethics course right now. “Like a great sedated bear just lying there.”

“A bear?” Steven asked, raising an eyebrow as he typed on the console.

“Bears sleep a lot,” George responded. Steven could only shake his head. Granted, George wasn’t wrong, but he was so…juvenile that sometimes Steven couldn’t help but laugh. “By the way,” George continued. “What are you doing?” Steven smiled as part of the glass cylinder lowered behind him to the floor. He raised a needle to the light and pressed down on it ever so slightly, leaking some liquid.

“Time to feed the bear,” Steven replied, walking to the table as the lights above slowly intensified. George tried to follow but the glass began to rise before he could get there. With the ease of someone who had been doing this his entire life, Steven quickly inserted the needle into the receptacle in the IV, which was injected into Jim through his right armpit, as not to leave an obvious mark.

“Have you ever wondered if there were more advanced races doing this to us?” George asked. His voice was quieter, but Steven could still hear him through the glass. Steven pondered the question for a moment before looking up.

“I suppose if they were, we wouldn’t know,” Steven replied honestly. George didn’t seem satisfied.

“If you somehow found out that they were,” George continued. “Wouldn’t you feel violated?”

“George,” Steven replied. Unlike Marissa, he had no problem with George at certain times. Now wasn’t one of those times. “I really have to concentrate. We can debate this later.” He swiftly plucked a hair and clipped a toenail and packaged each in plastic.

“What are those for?” George asked, changing the subject.

“The hair’s for DNA,” Steven responded. “The toenail is for a bacterial scan. It’s naturally different bacteria than what we’re used to, being on a different planet. There is a chance that these people aren’t special at all. It could just be something about being in their environment for an extended period of time. It could be in the air, in the water,…or in bacteria.”

George nodded, soaking in the information. Now came the part that Steven had been waiting for. He lowered the glass once again and wheeled in a full body scanner. As it passed over his body it showed that he was relatively healthy. Jim seemed active by his muscle fibers, and other than a liver in less than ideal conditions, relatively healthy as well. Steven looked down at the personal scanner he held in his hand.

This was the contradiction. This was what made little sense. It was obvious through the full body scanner, and just by simply looking at Jim, that he was alive. Nevertheless, while his personal scanner told him that he and George were most certainly alive, there was nothing living on the table before him. Steven could only shake his head in amazement. Marissa approached the glass.

“How’s he doing?” she asked, standing next to George and visibly upset about it.

“Still not ‘alive,’” Steven replied as Jim’s chest rose and fell with each breath.

“Check the blood work?”

“Haven’t taken it yet,” Steven said, readying the syringe. He took two full vials from between two of Jim’s toes, another unnoticeable location. Then, lowering the glass once more, he pushed the full body scanner out of the cylinder and stepped out himself as it slowly rose behind him.

Steven made his way over to a monitor with the samples and put each of them in their respective place. Instantly he had a DNA report, a bacteria scan, and a blood composition scan, each of which were mostly common but each of which having certain unknowns. The truth was in the unknowns, either the unknown DNA strains, the unknown bacteria, or the unknown elements in Jim’s blood.

George’s focus, however, hadn’t left Jim. “I would feel violated,” he whispered to the unconscious man through the glass, answering the question that he had asked Steven moments ago. “I’d be pissed off…”

Chris sighed as he was pushed back to his table and watched as Sun went to her chemistry table. All work and no play... he thought to himself as he unlatched the lock on his chair and continued to spin, quietly, glancing at Sun whenever his chair spun him to face her. But being with Sun was never dull. Occasionally she may give him a smile, or a joke. That's what Chris always worked for. He knew she was capable of it...but perhaps Demitri made her this way.

The engineer scowled as his thoughts fell upon her boyfriend. He doubted the man even liked her anymore. Most likely cheating or using her for something....but that was how the jealous always thought. Or maybe it was paranoia?

He chuckled to himself and shook his head as he pulled out the keyboard and opened up a few folders on the computer, checking designs and blueprints he had made for several other robots, including COW. "So...a small robot? Well...I don't know how small I can make a robot. I don't have the necessary parts, nor the time. However, if you can get a door open- or even a window, I can create a small robot using the same specifications as COW, however perhaps a small vacuum and a comb will get you what you need? We will just need to know a time when these people are no longer in their homes. Now the question would be, remote controlled or AI? I could outfit COW himself with a comb."

"Speaking of DNA," Chris said, twirling around to look at Sun again. "It'd be cool...if we can clone them too! And then, we abduct the real one, and send in the clone! It'd be like one of them old horror movies or science fiction ones! Oh, and if they're real buff and soldier like...we can make an army of them and rule the worlds! Wouldn't that be cool? I could be King of the world! And you can come visit if you like, Christopia! Heck, maybe you'd be my queen, eh?" He winked at Sun as his bright white teeth showed through his smile.

"Just make it work," she sighed softly. "And stop the wishful thinking, Chris. It will never happen." Sun stood up, and left Chris to his work. She walked out of the room, and headed towards the main laboratory. She had brought her own equipment simply because she knew how to work with it, and it was good. Not that the equipment here wasn’t good, but it fitted her thinking process and gave her the hard evidence she needed. She could analyze everything. She walked leisurely, yet her black heeled boots clicked on the floor. She felt it was too warm in this place, and even with just a clean, white sleeveless button down shirt, she was still hot. Her auburn hair was tied back artfully, so that none of the strands were out of place, and her impossibly blue eyes eyed other scientists working as she entered. It was then she noticed the specimen. Well, that’s illegal… she thought to herself. But now, I don’t have to do any of the dirty work except for what I do best. She paused in her thoughts as she approached them. She would find Chris later.

All in all she had been a bit reclusive throughout this study, sticking to her own equipment. Occasionally she conversed with others, more women as men. She didn’t mind speaking to them as long as they kept their eyes above her neckline. She overheard the conversation, and watched and recorded the observations in her mind as if there were a computer inside her. It would be in the appropriate file when she went to grab it later. She bent, looking through the glass at Jim. She had experience with living people who were legally dead, but that didn’t seem to apply here. They didn’t seem to be like the ones she had read about in her nation; of their leader or otherwise. This was perhaps something different, something more advanced or less so, either way.

“Why not take a lumbar puncture?” she asked the others, folding her arms across her chest as best as her anatomy allowed. “The samples of CSF can be analyzed and compared in respects for color, proteins, glucose, and other substances. It will give us more information then the blood work. After that it can be cultured to promote the growth of infections organisms or bacteria so we can see if there are certain infections. The pressure should also be analyzed, and maybe it will give a more definite answer as to why the dead man lives.”

“You can’t do it?” Marissa replied. Steven gave her a weird look before turning around in his seat. Her rudeness was usually reserved for men.

“What she means is that you’re more than welcome to do it yourself,” Steven said. “Simply put, I wish we could have him for years for all the tests I wish to run…but we’re on thin ice as it is.” He smiled at the rather radiant chemist, wondering why they didn’t all come with such appeal. “We could get more tests done with more people doing them.”

“No, I can’t do it properly myself. I just analyze, I’m not trained to,” Sun said at the rather rude woman. “What I meant to ask was can anyone help me with it? I know why theoretically has to be done, the procedure and placement…but I’ve never done one before. I figure that if someone is going to shove a needle between the vertebrae to get a CFS sample, it should be by someone who has actually done it before. I'd be more than happy to analyze it, map what I find and cross reference it, if someone could get me the sample."

Steven sighed. He was no neurologist or doctor, for titles never suited him well, but he had done lumbar punctures at the Academy. “I seem to be the man for the job after all,” he volunteered sheepishly, the smile still plastered on his face. He turned to George, “I’m gonna need you to help turn him over.”

“What?” George shifted his gaze from Jim to Steven, not having heard a word that was uttered.

“Put these on,” Steven ordered, handing George a hospital mask and gloves as he lowered the glass cylinder and approached the subject. “We need to get him to a fetal position. I’ll hold him here,” he said, grabbing Jim’s shoulder. He pointed to Jim’s thigh. “You hold him there. Be careful of the IV. On three…one…two…three!”

The two men lifted Jim and clumsily turned him onto his side. With antiseptic wipes, Steven cleaned the puncture area, which would be right between the L3 and L4 vertebrae in the back. For a few moments he rummaged around the supply drawers until finding the required spinal needle. He looked at the others and shrugged, which was not the best body language to show right before shoving a needle into a man’s back, but was an honest assessment of how he felt.

Painstakingly careful, Steven punctured Jim’s skin with the spinal needle and pushed in until there was the necessary “give” which meant that the needle had crossed the dura matter. He they cautiously withdrew the stylet from the spinal needle and collected a few drops of cerebrospinal fluid. Then, using the manometer, he checked the pressure of the fluid as well. Carefully he pulled the needle out of Jim’s back, and then George and he rolled the Vespian back onto his back.

“Now you should lay on your back for at least six hours,” Steven told the unconscious man, chuckling to himself. Jim would be laying down for far longer than that. Grinning victoriously, he handed over the sample and the manometer to Sun as the glass raised behind him. I can’t believe I just pulled that off. After his failure the night before, Steven was almost ecstatic.

"Hey, it can happen, Sun! And since when have I made something not work? I am, after all, the master of robotics," Chris chuckled as he clicked a series of buttons, then spun around in his chair again and pushed it towards the door after Sun. COW was making his way towards Chris as fast as the little wheels could go before being picked up and placed upside down on the computer desk.

He smiled as he opened up Sun's Media player and opened up a folder he hid on her computer filled with opera, classical music, and generally goofy-sounding music, especially cartoon themes. He placed turned the speakers up quite a bit, enough for his music to be heard perhaps down in their lounge, and turned on a lively, comedic operatic song relating to a man's dream woman coming to life, but falling for his best friend instead.

Although not knowing what every individual word meant in the song, he sang along with what he knew as he opened up a drawer on her desk and pulled out a tool kit, along with a small vacuum for Sun's keyboard.

"I'll take this..." Chris chuckled as he carefully pulled apart the vacuum, adding a brush nozzle to it, and opened up COW's camera box, sneaking the vacuum and hooking up a few wires, finally deciding to make COW remote controlled for this instance- atleast the vacuum.

Within the span of thirty minutes, he had configured COW to be a dust and hair collector...and a nifty floor cleaner.

Excited to show his new creation to his peers (something Sun would probably not let him call them), he placed COW on the floor and had him drive off to see the others.

Getting up out of his chair, he walked behind his creation and into the room with the others, only to see them poking and prodding at...someone...

"Acupunture? I never knew you guys knew how to do-eww...that is a big...needle...in his spine..." He looked at Sun, then Jim, and finally Steven before asking, "Is that legal?"

COW just cruised around the room like a child with no clue what exactly is happening.

Sun beamed. “Oooooooooooooo,” she exclaimed, trying to hide her excitement. “Thank you!” She took the CSF from him as well as the pressure reading. She was more excited than a kid on Christmas. She was adorable. Now I can evaluate an infection, cancer, subarachnoid hemorrhages, proteins, glucose, cell counts… Oh, the number of tests she was going to run on that small amount of liquid. The first thing she was going to do, however, was the basics, then start on the genome. That was always the fun part, but she had lots of experience in doing it.”

She then noticed Chris enter the room and shot him a glance. She could not work with him here. She needed to block him out. She touched the cross tattoo on the inside of her wrist, and her shoulders slumped forward. She wanted to smack him. Her cheeks became flush, and Chris knew she was angry. "Oh, get back to your machina," she snapped at him. "Leave my sciences out of your child's play." It was apparent the two knew eachother.

Her auburn hair whipped over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and walked across the laboratory to sit down at her temporary lab station and go to work. She analyzed, then typed on the computer with amazingly fast speed. She was no computer whiz other than using analytical tools. Hell she barely knew how to use Microsoft Word. She could, however, type excessively fast as she spoke softly to herself.

Sample 1, Day 1 of testing; CSF pressure in the lower back normally ranges from 80 to 200 mm water. The CSF pressure taken from the subject has a pressure of 220 mm, which could be indicating an extra excursion on the brain, possibly edema or hemorrhage in the brain. Infections such as meningitis could also cause it, or circulatory problems.

The normal protein count in an adult’s lower back is 55 milligrams per deciliter or less. This man has 65 milligrams per deciliter. Proteins have yet to be identified.

Glucose content is 65% of the blood glucose level. This is normal in any normal person.

Normal CSF contains no red blood cells, and the scan was clean. The white blood cell count for adults is normally 0 to 4 per cubic millimeter. Subject has 6 per cubic millimeter which may indicate that the number has risen due to infection or bacteria. No neutrophils are present. 2 monocytes per cubic millimeter, normal.

While the WBC was raised, there is no infectious organisms found in the CSF sample. No tumor cells are present.

Once again she was isolated from the rest of them, typing at her computer and analyzing the data. Why would someone with a face like hers be sitting in a lab all day when she could be on the cover of a magazine? Because while she cared about her appearance, she cared more about studying infectious and nontransferable diseases and the optical isomer of dicyclohexylcarbodiimide-reactive glutamate located within the heart. Studying things like that took her mind off people like Chris.

“Should he be here?” George asked, feeling awkward upon Chris’s entrance.

“More so than you,” Marissa snapped, shutting her patron up once again.

“Yes, Chris, it’s perfectly legal,” Steven replied, referring to the lumbar puncture entirely and the kidnapping of the Vespian not in the least. Over the last two months, Chris had always seemed like the younger brother Steven never really had. It was odd, to be sure, for he was unsure who was actually older.

“Think of it as an advanced blood test,” Marissa continued, expanding on Steven’s response.

Everyone tried to avoid the next, inevitable question: “Who was the middle-aged man unconscious on the table?”

Feeling as if now was the time for his exit, and honestly interested in the spinal fluid and the gorgeous girl analyzing it, Steven hastily made his exit from the immediate group. He laughed to himself; Marissa would get to answer the question.

Approaching Sun’s desk, he gave a nervous knock on the wall behind her, as if needing permission to approach. “I don’t suppose you’d be in the mood for company?” he asked. Instinctively, he smoothed the dirty blonde hair on top of his head. Steven wasn’t a bad looking man by any means, but he was weak as ever and a dork, not to mention how he was no where near her league. Just please don’t let me make an ass out of myself…I’ve been good for two months…don’t let me screw it up now…

James yawned and stretched as he stood up, shut down the monitor on his computer, and walked out the door, shutting and locking it behind him. Much as Simon was his friend, he was aggressive and belligerent, and had a bad habit of falling for and casting aside women. It was best to keep him out of personal spaces, especially those with pictures of attractive women. He never, ever wanted Simon to meet his girlfriend.

Walking through the short hallway, he emerged into the room where he heard large quantities of vocal chatter coming from, and found a small group of people in the room with Jim, their comatose captive. Sun, the chemist, was sitting at a work station across the room. Chris, the robotics junkie, was standing there looking bewildered, and Steven and Marissa, probably the lead two field agents - he couldn't tell any hierarchies other than 'I don't care about hierarchies' - talking and discussing the man on the table.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping into the room further and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. "Are we having a Jim party?"

It was at that point that Simon walked through the room, pulling on a pair of black gloves with blotches of dark green and brown on them and thin, elastic webbing between the fingers. Designed to mask the recognizable appearance of hands. He was dressed in what he affectionately called 'raiding gear': A black tuke, dark black and camouflage Ghillie clothes, and camouflage paint covering any exposed skin. Goggles sitting on his forehead were designed to mask the whites of his eyes when pulled on, his backpack was partially full with equipment but left room for James' books, and he wore a radio headset. "Did I hear you call anything a Jim party?" he asked James incredulously. "That's just weird. In any case, I'm off for your benefit, and so we can all benefit from having a linguist who reads and writes the language. Maybe we'll find out Jim's real name from his driver's license, or whatever that is."

He looked around at the faces staring at him. "I hoped not to make a scene," he said exasperatedly. "I'm off." With that he turned and walked out purposefully, towards the entrance.

Sun turned and looked at Steven, who had helped her. She hadn’t been in direct contact before, just seeing him around occasionally. She usually annexed herself to strictly work. “No, it’s fine. I was actually just starting on taking apart the DNA and analyzing the genome. There appears to be 24 chromosomes instead of twenty three. I mean, there are some people with 24 but they have genetic defects. I just have to see which don’t match up and such. It should be quite interesting once I get it done. It will take a bit of work though. I have a feeling I will be stuck here for the rest of the night. I just can’t stop until the puzzle is solved. That’s just the way I am. If you want to you could help me.” She said, her deep blue eyes looking up at him from the chair. They weren’t sky blue, or ice blue, but rather a deep blue, like the ocean on a clear summer’s day or a pair of sapphires glinting in the sunlight. There was simply no way they could be natural, but they were.

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, standing up and walking to the centrifuge and stopping the machine, getting ready to take out one of the vials and proceed with the analysis. "It will go faster with two people."

“Perhaps that’ll explain something,” Steven replied hopefully, about the extra chromosome. None of the Vespians seemed mentally impaired, but then again, none of them seemed dead either. He thought back on his findings from minutes ago. “Bacteria-wise there is nothing too exciting. A good bit of it is common, some is foreign, but none is promising…at least on Jim there. Their blood is what gets me. It contains chemicals I’ve never seen before. Granted I doubt any of us have ever heard of them, if they even have names at that, but it’s something to look into."

Steven pulled up a chair, trying to avoid holding eye contact for too long. Her beauty was almost intoxicating, almost to the point of distracting him from his work. Still, he thought to himself, it was a distraction he could learn to live with.

"Oh?" Chris replied to Sun, somewhat disheartened. His friend seemed ever more fiesty as of late. Perhaps her lack of live, interactive subjects and the fact that she must have found a good DNA strand to use, judging by the way she ran to her station so quickly. He figured he'd best not bother her...on the other hand, he knew someone who would be better off spying on her- or rather, something. He crouched low to the ground and snapped his fingers at the roving COW, who prompty drove itself into Chris' waiting hands. With a little tinkering and camera lense adjustments, he had perfected a makeshift spy. With a grin, he placed COW back on the floor and sent him towards Sun, slowly, as if creeping to her.

"Well..I suppose living blood tests can be legal if we are far away on an unexplored planet...but then-"

Suddenly, the man known as James came into the room asking if there was a "Jim party" happening. However, in Chris' mind, "Jim" was more of the physical exercise "Gym". And if that wasn't the case, then it could always be a James party used in the informal version of Jim.

And if that wasn't confusing enough, someone came through to join the "Gym Party" dressed in strange attire that made him look very much an alien or perhaps a loose homage to the ancient "Cousin It". He finally recognized the voice of Simon underneath all that dense fake foliage.

"I'm sorry but...did I miss something?" Chris finally asked, his eyes returning to the man whom had just taken the "advanced Blood Test".

"But I guess I did miss something considering I've never realized we have a dead guy on a table..." He glanced to see COW's progress and smiled. The little red light on the camera was glowing red- the good sign of recording. He knew he'd never hear the end of this...and perhaps he may end up getting murdered...but atleast he would die happy. Plus, Sun may not even notice COW considering she was enthralled with what she does best- Chemistry.

COW made it's way underneath Sun's skirt, barely avoiding Steven's feet as it scurried past, trying to be as covert as possible- a program setting Chris had made in anticipation for a moment like this. It began adjusting it's camera lense and angle to get the full moon from underneath. And a glorious vision it was as the woman had quite a dreamy body, much on the top as it was on the bottom. Among the video it was collecting, it would make a series of snapshots as well- Wall worthy pictures. Perhaps Chris would even make a few copies for Simon as he heard that his fellow scientist had a few women on his wall as well.

Chris snickered as he strained to hear a series of barely audible clicks and spun on his heel, almost losing his balance. "I'll be right back."

He ran to Sun's room- being the closest one there was for him to examine COW's observations and having the necessary programs for him to do so. And he was quite pleased with the progress. Apparantly, Sun was into the lacy, black fashion. "This is definately going on my wall..." he chuckled.

James watched as Chris did - possibly - what he did best, and then as he scurried off. He pinched the bridge of his nose and silently said to himself What the hell is wrong with these people?

He figured he wouldn't be doing his duty as a good person and a father if he didn't at least try and warn Chris, so he left the room as quietly as possible, made his way to Sun's room, and stepped in the door, not even bothering to knock. He knew he would startle the other man, but he didn't really care. "You're playing with fire, Chris," he said quietly, but loud enough to make his point.

"She's going to find out eventually, especially if you just barge into her room for that sort of thing. You need to use a private computer, something other people don't use." An evil idea crept into his head, and he filed it away for future reference in case he ever got mad at Chris. "If I were you I'd stop."

He turned and left, luckily before Sun arrived, and made his way back to the 'Jim Party', as he had so dubbed it.

“I know the name and formula of any chemical known, well, a good chunk of them. If I don’t know it, than it’s a 95% chance its foreign, so we’ll assume they are all normal chemicals until I can see them,” she said. She was rather prideful about her chemical knowledge. It’s what she did. She looked at him and smiled. “I just need a few of the Celeres© slides in that container,” she said, pointing toward the metallic container that was closer to Steven then her. They were basically glass slides but made so that the specimen was inserted from the side. No cover slip was needed. She would then place it into the AMZ recording device, and with the enzyme added, the DNA would begin to break down in an orderly fashion, and she could take note and record it as it ran down its genome.”

Her tentative ears heard a clicking noise and she turned, nearly falling over COW, her heels clicking on the ground. She was still for a moments, then looked at the red light. Her cheeks flushed, and her blue eyes seemed to be burning with fire. She tried to kick COW but it scurried away. She looked at Stephen. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said softly, the corner of her eyebrow twitching slightly as she picked up a syringe and took a small vile. She filled the syringe with one of her chemicals, hid it behind her back, and walked toward COW. She bent over slightly, then grabbed the machina and took the syringe, injecting it into one of COW’s many wires. “Carbolic acid is a bitch, isn’t it Chris?” She said. That would take a while to fix. COW started to smoke. She still had half a syringe left.

She removed her cell phone from the lab desk and dialed the number to the room. When he answered, her voice was low, and angry. “Christopher Ivellios Avestar, If you don’t get in here right now, I’m going to inject carbolic acid into your veins while you sleep.” She used his full name. Oh yes, she was mad.

“I’m assuming that they’re foreign,” Steven told her. He pondered for a moment, thinking it better not to call a chemist out on chemistry. “But as you said…you should look them o…”

Before he could even finish, Steven found himself able to do nothing but roll his eyes. This was what he meant by Chris being childish. And to think that I was the one worried about screwing up… Morals and decency aside, if nothing else it wasted time. Frankly, they didn’t have the time to waste.

Chris was busy printing off a picture or two when suddenly, a voice met his ears behind him, his heart skipping a beat.

"My...James...knock! I could've had a-" He began with a large smile, but was interrupted by Jame's speech and scolding reminding him much of his father. "Well, no! You gotta understand this is all locked up with my password and a few other things so Sun can't get in..cause, yeah that would be rather embarassing. Don't worry, she won't hurt me...badly."

"By the way, take a look, James! These are quality pictures that-"

And James left, Chris alone to his own work. "I'll stop...just let me finish printing..." he chuckled as he gave one last look at the view and was about to close it when suddenly, COW began to scurry away. "Uh oh..."

The feed disappeared and the phone rang. Chris shakily picked it up. Immediately he was intimidated by the sound of her voice angrily saying his whole name. That's not a good sign... Chris had been in trouble with Sun many times before, perhaps moreso than this time, but he never enjoyed getting her angry at him...well, maybe a few times. "Sun? Nice to see you...I was just about to- I'll be there right away."

He had little idea what this acid was, but with watching cartoons and what it did to the camera feed of COW, he figured any acid but Citric acid wasn't going to be good in his body. He grabbed the copies of Sun from the printer and hastily folded them and stuffed them in his jeans pocket, closed the computer feed and pictures, and carefully stepped out to face one of his nightmares.

He walked out with the demeanor of a dog in trouble and looked up at Sun. "Sun, you see, I was fixing COW and set him on the ground...It must have been one of my old programs long ago that I had accidently switched on...I went back to the room to change it but it was too late, I guess," he said quietly, a sheepish smile on his lips. However, his eyes fell to the half-full syringe in her hand and he could feel a chill go down his spine. "I'll take COW now and get back to work..."

Her heels clicked deliberately on the floor. Her hair had fallen out of the elastic and was now freely swaying like tendrils of flames as her eyes burned into Christ. She walked toward him, and hit him; hard. Very hard. It was a full punch in the face, as if she had been trained for the perfect impact. Taking Shaolin Kempo until you were ten years old did have its benefits. She hit him a second time, as quickly as the first, and he went down. She picked up her boot and placed it on his throat. “If COW has a mishap similar to this one ever again, if your god damn antics get in the way of my work, I will make you sorry you ever were born.” She lifted her heel from his throat, and tied back her hair again, pulling it out of her face and walking back to her table. She wasn’t sure if he bruised him or broke his cheek bone. Her knuckles had blood on them, albeit just a bit. She washed her hands and dried them with a paper towel.

She sat back down in her chair, and took the slide for herself, and inserted the sample and began to work. “I’m sorry for him. He doesn’t know what’s bad for his health.”

"Now Sun, it is perfectly explainable-"

Bam. Chris swayed just a bit as he tried to regain his balance. Man, I don't remember her hitting this hard before-

Bam. He fell to the floor, his vision blacked out for a minute. When he awoke, he felt something warm sliding down his face. But it didn't matter. He felt her heel digging into his throat as she pressed against him with her boot. His view would have been heavenily if it weren't for that dang boot. And the pain in his nose... Atleast I'll die happy... those thoughts kept looping through his mind as he gave a very weak smile at the very angry Sun. Something he probably shouldn't have done...but, he was known to laugh at strange times. Yet he couldn't help but realize that perhaps Sun got her name from her fiery temper...maybe as a baby she had a short fuse like she did now-a-days.

"I-I'll stay out of you're...ugh...way," Chris replied as he held his nose- or rather tried to, if it wasn't for the intense stinging sensation. Blast...I think it's broken... He looked at the man on the table for a second and immediately replaced the specimen with himself, wondering if perhaps Sun will move on with her threat.

His cheeks reddened in embarassment as he realized this was very much in the open amongst his peers and he quickly picked up the smoking COW and walked off to his room.

On the way to his room, however, he made sure to log off and shut down Sun's equipment. He was, afterall, the one who turned them on.

He made it to his room and rushed to the cabinet to pull out a paper towel and pressed it against his nose as he slumped down on his bed and looked up. He slowly pulled out his new pictures and unfolded them to see as he waited for his nose to stop bleeding before he asked one of the others if they knew how to fix a broken nose.

Steven, along with Marissa and George, was in absolute shock. To say, even after living with her for two months, that they wouldn’t have seen that coming would be an understatement. Apparently, however, this girl had a fire about her. Staring at her in somewhat of a new light, Steven became even more convinced not to get burnt.

“I suppose he had it coming,” Steven said, shrugging as he looked at Sun. He seemed to be shrugging quite a lot lately, or at least enough for him to notice. He wondered if anyone else did.

By this point, George had decided that he already experienced far too much excitement for one night, and silently retreated towards his quarters, while Marissa emersed herself back into her analysis.

“I’ve known Chris for a good portion of my life, he has just pushed me too far too many times,” she said calmly. It was true. He knew how to rub her the wrong way. Ever since this started he has been nothing but an annoyance and a nuissance.

“Normally I am neither short with people nor violent, but that man pushes my buttons…” she explained, then began observing the triplets in the genomes and the coding, cross referencing it with the data she already had collected from ‘normal’ people. Her eyes widened, but she went a little farther. “All of these triplets…first two chromosomes code for nothing. All of the base pairs…code for nothing. They are useless, no protein codes or start or stop. It’s just useless base pairs repeating, not even coding for a synthesis of a protein.”

Steven wondered to himself why she had brought Chris along if he was the annoyance she so declared. Being friends with Marissa had made him privy to much of the administration side of this endeavor, and he specifically remembered Sun requesting Chris’s presence. After all, what need was there for a robot in Steel Butterfly? COW was barely legal, and he wouldn’t put it past a policeman with a bad attitude to destroy it outright if it was seen. Chris was lucky that Vespia was still a sovereign planet. Steven wiped his eyes with his hands, turning his attention back to the data.

“It appears almost primitive,” Steven thought out loud, knowing full well “primitive” was a rather odd way of describing DNA.

"It's not primative, it's useless, as if DNA has been deleted. If this coding had been changed, or had once meant something, it might have accounted for those unusual chemicals. I've never seen this before in my entire life," she said in almost a whisper, and became absorbed in her chemistry and DNA. "I don't know how without this they can even be alive, or be somewhat normal. They all should be dead right now..." She was confused. It was impossible, unless those protiens were coded on different chromosomes.

"We need to look at the blood work see what chemicals are there, and if the ones that are supposed to be in these chromosomes are present."

Rolling over to where Marissa was in his chair, Steven quickly snatched the data PADD off the desk before pushing off with his foot and rolling back. The chair came to a perfect stop, right before running into Sun’s, and he handed her the PADD.

“They don’t show up on any identifiers,” Steven explained. “Probably just compounds native to Vespia.”

“I just ran them through the Imperial database,” Marissa said, making her way over. “There are five distinct substances in Jim’s blood that have never been identified by us, or anyone we’ve ever come in contact with.” She looked down at Sun disapprovingly. Yet again, youth is wasted on the young. “I’m not sure how you plan to identify them by just looking at them, when known civilization can’t up to this point.”

In the years that he had known her, Steven had never seen Marissa more antagonistic than she was on Vespia. Maybe it’s all the time we all have to spend together. Either way, between George and now Sun, Marissa seemed all the more crotchety.

“Regardless of its arrangement, structure or form, everything can be broken down to elements, and similar compounds may be able to be formed,” she looked at the Data, and took it into her own hands. “If I can’t find out what it is, or infer their properties, then, well…we are at a loss for information until we figure it out.” She shrugged, and slid to her work station on her chair in a brisk movement. She took out a pad of paper. She began jotting down numbers; lots of numbers, specifically in no order. She was working quickly. What she was doing could really not be determined. There were as sure as hell a lot of numbers. “Tetrapyridophenazine Ruthenium is one of these compounds. It’s normally found in a bipyridophenazine form, I’ve never seen it like this. This hypothetically could occur, but was never able to be created. I can’t be one hundred percent sure without tests done to single it out…and watch out for disrupting its form. If it split off into bi from tetra, it would be rather useless.” she said, and after several minutes she turned. She was good; very good. But she wasn’t sure. “The other four I have no knowledge of. They are quite interesting. They are foreign…” she sighed, and looked at Steven. She wasn’t good enough to figure out the puzzle. One out of five, that was sad on her scale. She needed to study harder. She needed to research more. There must be a logical explanation for all of it. She touched the cross tattoo on her wrist. How could she be such a failure?

She was a failure as a chemist. She had studied the damn listing of compounds, even the most perplex, studying them in whatever state possible. Years of her life wasted on studying and learning compounds by heart; years wasted. Beautiful women do not waste years of their life memorizing and testing compounds unless they are damaged. For the first time in her life; unable to solve the puzzle, she looked sad, as if she had lost someone dear to her. But this puzzle, this would weigh on her mind like nothing else. She would not be able to get it out of her head. She folded her arms over her chest and continued to look at the PADD. All else that was before her did not make sense to her; and she was unable to figure out any way to solve this puzzle. This would torment her.

[OOC: This was post number 11,111 haha.]

Names of compounds swirled through Steven’s head. He shut his eyes, shutting the names out. All this was beginning to make him dizzy.

“It’s alright,” Steven told Sun, instinctively putting his hand on her shoulder. She seemed to take it as failure, but Steven hadn’t expected much success. “Besides,” he said, a genuine smile, not one of nervousness or false impressions, slowly spreading across his face. “You one-upped me. I had no clue it was…uh…Tetropyraphezadine Luphenium in a different form.” Steven blushed slightly, butchering the name. “And apparently neither did the computers.” He thought of Chris and of COW. “You can’t trust technology for anything on its own.”

"Tetrapyridophenazine Ruthenium," she corrected, but there was something in the tone that let him know his words were comforting. "Technology is controlled by people. If they don't have the knowledge, neither can the computers." She seemed to look a little better, but apparently was still upset with her self by that look in her eyes as she continuously traced the outline of the cross around her wrist.

He blushed again, knowing as the words left his mouth that he had gotten them wrong. Steven’s eyes followed Sun’s hand to the cross on her wrist. There were times that he had wanted a tattoo, but he never knew exactly what to get done. It wasn’t that he was afraid, of course…

“I like it,” Steven commented, not quite pointing out what it was that he liked but staring right at the cross. “Does it mean something particular?”

“Yes, it does,” she said in a somber tone, being a bit uplifted from her perceived failure. “It’s a long story though. You probably would get tired after hearing the first few minutes,” she managed a smile, and walked back to her desk to slowly begin working again. Yes, it did have a long story; one that was entwined with her heart.

Sensing the need to give Sun her space, Steven instead walked towards Marissa, sitting down beside her.

“Any luck with the broken comm?” he asked, rolling the chair closer to her desk.

“Absolutely nothing,” she replied, exhaling dramatically and throwing her hands in the hair. She was visibly frustrated.

“We can always use another,” Steven said, taking it from her hands. She reluctantly released her grasp.

“That’s not the point, Steve,” Marissa responded. Steven cringed; he wasn’t used to the nickname, and never really liked it much. “There’s nothing wrong with the comm. There’s nothing wrong with any of the material. And yet here…” She pointed to the screen. The scene from earlier that day played over again. Marissa had watched it so many times, but nothing ever changed. Fred’s lips moved, his eyes glaring at the camera, and yet no bug picked up what he said. It was disheartening to say the least.

“We’ll get more film,” Steven said, trying to reassure her. “It won’t be a problem.” But that wasn’t the point for Marissa, and Steven knew this well. More than anything, more than even men it seemed, Marissa hated the unknown. Sure there were a lot of guesses, but as of now there was no logical reason why her comm didn’t work.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, finally. “I should be thinking of other things.” Marissa frowned, looking at the screen. Fred’s cold blue eyes looked back at her in disappointment, almost beckoning her to investigate further.

Steven, though, had someone else on his mind. Another pair of blue eyes beckoned. Patting Marissa on the shoulder as if to tell her that she would pull through all right, he stood and made his way back over to Sun’s desk. Marissa didn’t seem to notice, her eyes glued to the screen. She replayed it once more.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Steven said, coming up from behind. Sun seemed to stop what she was doing. That could mean any number of things. “What is the story behind it?” He managed to laugh. “I’m quite good at listening. I promise I won’t get bored.”

“I met this man named Baralai on the coast of summerset. He was on the beach at early dawn, meditating. It was the most peaceful I had seen anyone in my entire life. I couldn’t help but to stop and watch, and I stood their four hours simply watching him meditate and listen to the crashing waves. It wasn’t until he turned towards me I had even realized myself, and I apologized. He smiled. He told me he was wondering who had been waiting so long for him to rise. I was a bit embarrassed, I admit. After all, who wouldn’t be? I stood on a beach watching someone for four hours. The sun had begun to set, and I asked him what it was like, being that peaceful. He told me it was like flying without gravity, where you could just drift without a care in the world. He said it was refreshing.” She paused for a moment, her hand fully covering the tattoo on her other wrist, as if it were something sacred.

“After our chance meeting I walked to the beach every Sunday to watch him there. I later found out that he was a priest at one of the temples which are quite abundant in my nation. Afterwards, he would ask me to come to his temple, for he was the head of one at the time, and I always declined. Religion was never one of my strong points. I was always more versed in science than the lore or religion of my nation. Technology mattered more to me; figuring out the puzzle of various diseases; that was my main interest. The temples in my nation are probably a lot different from the standard. Priests are allowed to have significant others, priestesses also can lead ceremonies. They focus on a religion of the seraphics, for the empress is rumored to be a seraphic; however I have not seen it with my own eyes so it is very difficult for me to believe.”

“He told me that I was broken. I didn’t know what he meant by that then, but I do now. My mother and father died a while ago, but I didn’t cry. I was never taught to cry. I didn’t know how to mourn them. Somehow he knew without me saying anything. Every Sunday he asked me to go with him, and with a polite decline he accepted. I knew he was disappointed but wasn’t sure why. One day, I finally agreed to go with him. I figured I could go once and be done with it. The ceremonies were held at sunset after his meditation. What I saw when I went was indescribable. It was on the day of the Feast of Aurora celebration. What I saw was so beautiful. I didn’t know then that it was his final ceremony in that temple before he left. I came to term with the death of my parents in silence. I cried for the first time, and he comforted me. I realized that he wasn’t disappointed because he didn’t get one more face to see there, but because I had prolonged my well being for so long. He saw me mourning my love for them, and touched my hand.”

“After everyone had left, we were the last ones left. A beautiful calm had swept over the temple. He told me that it had been his last ceremony which he had been postponing until I agreed to go. He was going to request audience with the empress, and ask her for the gift of the Eternal. I was in shock, I couldn’t form words. He unclasped the chain around his neck and gave it to me as he walked down the center aisle toward the large double doors. I was stupid not to ask him to stay, to say anything. He was the first person I loved. After he left, I never saw him again, but I wore his necklace every day until I was not allowed to wear it during a certain group of lab sessions. I got the pendent tattooed on my wrist, so that it can still be with me when I can’t wear it.”

“It was on that night that my eyes became this blue. I have searched for many reasons to explain it, but I cannot. I’ve learned that science can only account for 99.9% of the things on this world, but there is that .1% where you can’t explain it, where you rely on faith.” She looked at him with those impossibly blue eyes, and then started to continue on the analysis. “I’m sorry if I have bored you. Stuff like this isn't probably that interesting to a scientist.” She paused for a moment and stood up. “I think I’m going to rest for a while. I feel tired all of a sudden…”

Steven could do nothing but look at Sun in awe. Simply put, her story was beautiful, far beyond anything he had witnessed or experienced on his own. He suddenly felt quite foolish for spending his life in labs, his nights in books. Here was Sun, a fellow scientist, with an actual life, not a predictable pattern of experiments and reports.

“He…” Steven tried to reply, searching for words and coming up short. Perhaps it was getting too late for this type of thought. “He’s a lucky man…”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I haven’t seen or heard from him since five years ago. For all I know he could be dead,” Sun said, her tone darkening a bit. That was a thought she didn’t like to think about. “When he left I did the only thing I could do; trap myself in my studies, and I didn’t stop. I became a specialist with my research and knowledge on chemicals and diseases. I couldn’t go back to that temple, not without him there. So I haven’t gone since, and here I am; unable to identify four chemical compounds I have spent a good portion of my life studying,” she said with a bit of frustration. She had brought the topic off Baralai and on work; the only thing she could do.

“I’m going back to my room,” she said, straightening her crisp white blouse slightly, for it had moved when she sat down.

Steven yawned, covering his mouth as he stretched his arms. It was getting late, but more importantly, he hadn’t gotten much sleep thanks to his adventures the night before. With what he was working on, he needed a mind crisp and clear. Currently, he was 0 for 2 in that matter.

“I’ll walk you back,” Steven offered, wiping his dreary eyes. “I’m feeling rather tired myself.” The two of them retreated through the double doors to where the rooms were.

Chris had long stuffed his pictures well underneath his bed, a relatively new hiding spot. He decided to vary up his preferred places so those that knew him well, or semi-well- like Sun- wouldn't be able to find without a thorough examination of his room.

After atleast thirty tissues, Chris had stopped bleeding and instead was struck with a terrible headache, a guilty conscious, a bruised ego, and a broken nose. Just wiping his bloody nose made him wince in pain. He needed to get his nose checked out...but he didn't remember exactly who to go to. Perhaps Marissa would know? He always felt somewhat comforted by the older woman.

Now that he had finally figured out who to go to, there was the problem of going out in public again. He slowly got up and opened his door just a crack and looked through. He frowned at the fact that Sun and Steven were still there, and, his jealous friend instincts began to kick in slightly as he half-thought Steven was getting a bit too close to Sun than he liked. Why does she play so hard to get while around me...but opens up so much easier with others? Does she not like me? He sighed as he leaned a bit more on the door. He heard a bit of silence and figured the two were gone perhaps to the dining area or some other place. Now was the time to go to Marissa and see if she can do something for his nose.

He opened the door and began walking down the hall, slightly bloody tissue in his hand, before coming to a halt as he got face to face with that whom he loved very much- Sun.

"Uh-er...Sun..." he stuttered, his voice somewhat nasal. He paused as he searched for something to say, but finally settled with something quite simple. "Sun...I...I'm really sorry about earlier...I shouldn't have done that...I...deserved what I got. I'm sorry."

He glanced at Steve and gave him a very brief smile, before returning his gaze on Sun.

George sat in his room alone, but he thought little of it. There was nothing unusual about his solitude. As a child, or even as an adult for that matter, he had few friends. If this bothered him, it was only slightly, and hardly enough to be noticed.

He wondered if Jim was the same way. After all, he lived alone. Perhaps Jim was really outgoing, fun-loving, or smart? Perhaps Jim had friends, enemies, lovers, all people who he wouldn’t be able to explain his absence to. Perhaps Jim just didn’t want to be a lab rat.

All George wanted to do was talk to the man. He didn’t know why. There was no interest, on George’s part, in the culture in which he lived. George also neither wanted nor expected Jim as a friend. He just wanted a conversation, and for all George knew, it quite possibly was only because Jim wasn’t able to comply.

“George,” a voice from behind his door said, followed by three knocks. George looked up stunned. It was quite possibly the first visitor he had gotten in the last two months, and most definitely the last person he expected. Hesitating for a moment, George stood and unlocked his door, opening it ever so slightly.

“Yes?” he asked. Marissa looked concerned.

“I need to talk to you about the contract,” she told him. George opened the door, feeling more relaxed. Money was his language, being rich the one thing he was good at.

“What about it?” George asked, trying to analyze Marissa. She was neither confrontational nor dismissive and he didn’t quite understand it.

“You might want to give it up,” Marissa said, frowning. She looked genuinely distressed. “We’re not getting anywhere,” she continued, shaking her head. “Might just let them take it…at least you’ll get paid.” George looked at her, dumbfounded.

“Let me get this straight,” George replied, a rare hint of skepticism in his voice. “You’re coming to me, of all people, and telling me to turn your efforts over to the Empire?” George’s words rang true, both were not only out of Marissa’s character, but completely on the other end of the spectrum.

“I’m just trying to…”

“Bullshit,” George replied, cutting her off and surprising the both of them. “The only reason I exist to you is because you didn’t want the Empire to finance this expedition. Now you just want to turn it over? Don’t give me that ‘I’m just trying to help you out’ shit. You’re not fooling anyone.” George was furious. Did she really think he was that dumb?

“George, we’ve found nothing,” Marissa said. “For over two months we’ve been doing observations, experiments, and analysis and we’ve found absolutely nothing.”

“It’s only been two months!” George replied, exasperated. “Two bloody months!”

“We’ve done a lot…”

“Listen,” George said, stepping towards her, his finger aimed. “I know I’m the joke around here, ok? I know I’m not as smart as all you scientist-types. But honestly…if you think for a minute that I can’t see what’s wrong with you right now, perhaps I’m not the one who’s the idiot.”

“You don’t think my head’s clear?” Marissa asked, not backing down.

“I don’t think your motives are,” George replied. “Why turn it over to the government, Marissa? It doesn’t matter who finances you…you get paid the same either way.”

“You paid a lot of money,” Marissa responded. “I figured I owed it to you.”

“Once again,” George fumed. “That’s complete shit. You don’t even believe it yourself. For the past two months you haven’t even thought that you owed me the time of day, or even some goddamn common courtesy…and now you’re looking out for my finances? I paid for this little trip of yours because I’m going to sell what you find and make money off it. I’ll be damned if I let the Empire buy me out for half of what I fronted.”

“Half is better than nothing,” Marissa replied. “Which is what you’ll get if we find nothing.”

“What is this about, Marissa?” George asked. “You could give a damn if I get paid or not. Do you need more money? Is that what it is? Did all your expensive ass equipment and those stupid suits cost too much? I can give you more goddamn money!”

“You’re impossible!” Marissa exclaimed, turning around and throwing her hands in the air before walking out of George’s room, leaving him absolutely dumbfounded and incredibly angry.

Once again, George was alone, but now there was no calmness, no solitude. His anger and suspicious filled the room more than any amount of people could as he paced back and forth, trying to piece together the puzzle that had presented itself over the last few minutes. Suddenly he stopped, and for the first time that he could remember, he felt a feeling of regret.

There was no one he could turn to. There was no one to confide in, no one to bounce ideas off of. No, George told himself, he was alone on this. He alone had to expose Marissa’s intentions. And then, in his fit of rage, he realized that he had absolutely no idea where to begin.

Sun walked in first, Steven still lingering in the doorway. She looked at the dried blood he had failed to clean off, then at his nose. It was broken. She walked toward him and placed her fingertips on either side. “I suggest gripping something…and NOT me.” She added, making sure there was no way he could justify touching her. She was still mad, and he could tell. When he placed one hand on the edge of the table, she shifted her fingers quickly, causing the bones to slide back into place. More blood began to flow from his nostrils, but she removed her hands before he got blood on them, handed him some napkins. “I’ll look at it in an hour,” she muttered to him then looked back at Steven with a light smile, as much as she could manage. “Thanks for walking me back to my room,” she called out, her blue eyes then averting their attention toward the door of her room. She did not say another word to Chris, but passed through her door, closed it harshly behind her. The lock could be heard clicking a second after the door closed. She didn’t want to be bothered. She was making a phone call.

She heard the phone ring several times before she heard the voice on the other end. “Demitri,” she said in greeting, and paced back and forth in her room. “It’s going all right. I’d like there to be more progress but…” She bit her lip. “I can’t go. I asked you to come here with me.” A pause. “You had to go to that conference in Summerset. I’ve already made the commitment.” Another pause. “I can’t leave just because you changed your mind and want me home with you.” She bit her lip. “I can’t just drop everything and leave now, Demi…” She placed one hand on her hip. “Yes, this is more important than you.” There was a brief pause. She actually said it. “Well that’s fine with me,” she replied to the muttering voice on the phone. “In the closet? That’s my stuff. If I bought it don’t touch.” She paused with a look of disgust upon her face. “Goodbye Demitri.” She hung up her cell phone and through it on her bed, running both hands through her hair after taking out the elastic.

She looked in the mirror, her vibrant blue eyes shining. She touched her cheek and moved her head from side to side, watching how they changed and focused. You gave me such beautiful eyes… she thought silently. With your beautiful heart. What happened to you Baralai? She let out a soft sigh, and heard her phone ring. Demitri again…great. She picked up the phone and looked at the number. It wasn’t in her phonebook. She opened it, and answered, “Hello?” She then heard a click, and multiple beeps signaling the person had hung up or been disconnected. She shrugged, and threw it back down on the bed. She had half expected it to be him, but now she realized her foolishness. She had never given him her number.

"Agh-what? Sun, please, don't, I know I- AGHHHH!!!" Chris screamed, nearly gripping Sun, but knowing it would not be best. His hands latched onto a nearby table, and he held on so tight, his knuckles turned white. His knees felt like giving out.

Just as fast as it started, the pain intensified and settled down. He could feel more warm blood running down his nose and lips. "Ugh...sick," he coughed, holding his bloody tissue to his nose. He gave a weak smile to Sun as she gave him napkins and replaced his current tissue with it. "T-t-thank you..." he whispered as she walked into her room, slamming it shut.

He looked at Steven and gave a quiet chuckle. "I look like a mess, I feel like a mess, and I am embarassed to walk in the open...and now I am more afraid of Sun then usual."

He turned to Sun's door and crept as quietly as he could to it, putting his finger up to his bloody lips, signaling silence from Steven. He strained to hear what Sun was saying, especially after he noticed her talking to Demitri.That imbecile... Chris thought angrily. But by the sounds of it, Sun was turning him down...for going back...Are they breaking up? Chris thought hopefully.

He walked away from her door and turned to face Steven. "Have you ever had an ordeal like this?" he asked with a sigh, his lips curling up to a very weak smile.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been abused by a girl,” Steven replied with a slight snigger at the bloody mess that was Chris. He paused, laughing to himself as he stared down the hall at Sun’s door. “But honestly…all I can tell you is to give her the time…and space…she needs.” He shrugged, almost embarrassed. “I have to admit that I’m hardly the one to talk to about women.”

Steven put his hands on his hips and shook his head. Beyond tired, all he wanted to do was go to bed. He said his goodbyes to Chris, gave a long look towards Sun, and started on the short walk to his room. Opening his door, he dove into bed, falling asleep on top of his covers with his clothes still on.

She was too tired to change before crashing on her bed. She reached over to the side table and rummaged in one of the drawers. She pushed the top of a box off and pulled out the metal chain with the cross pendant. She clasped Baralai’s necklace around her neck and let the pendent settle just above her bust. She laid down on the bed and closed her eyes, holding the cross within her hand. She soon fell asleep.


Mount Ryoden; one of the tallest mountains in TUERS, the Three United Empires of Ravelyn Shentavo. This expedition was to study a new compound found deep within the mountain, however to get to the entrance cave to the inside, the expedition had to hike up the rocky slopes around the mountain to get closer to the summit. There was no snow, thanks to global warming, however it was just a bit cold. Sun hadn’t taken care to bring a jacket, and she was only partially cold. It was never really something that bothered her. She wore a white t-shirt with jeans and a brown belt. Her auburn hair was tied back, and the sun caught glints of gold and red in the silken strands. This was her third expedition to this mountain, and she had taken care to buy thick black boots that could grip the ground rather than the sandals or sneakers she usually wore. Her eyes were bluer than the sky that day, but that was normal. She was in the center of the group, her gloved hands gripping the wall for more support as the slopes began to get steeper. It was tricky to climb this mountain, as it was very unstable.

She reached up and grabbed the next ledge and began to pull herself up when it gave. She felt the rock crumble underneath her weight and she frantically tried to grab whatever possible. She managed to grab a ledge below with one hand. Below her was a decent that would be death to anyone who fell from such a height. She saw the faces of her coworkers looking over the ledge so high above. There was no way they would be able to reach her in time. She closed her eyes. She was going to die.

As she hung above the rocky death that loomed before her, and overwhelming feeling of peace could be felt around her, outside of her. Quietly, a smiling face appeared over the edge of the ledge, a soft hand extending over the abyss to take hers. Baralai looked down at the girl with no fear or worry in his eyes, just a soft smile of content. “Here,” he spoke, his voice belaying no concern over the situation, “take my hand.” The cool mountain air whipped at his white hair, but his face showed no effect from the cold. He was serene in his looks, seeming to emanate a quiet calm, as if he had no worries in the world. It was if he had no worries if she fell or came over the top. And there he was, the man who had changed her, quietly leaning over the edge, his hand out to her, with the soft, familiar, smile.

She reached up and grabbed his hand, feeling herself being pulled up over the ledge. She panted as the strain was finally lifted off of her muscles. “Baralai…” her voice trailed off in a soft whisper as she looked up to him standing there, looking handsome as ever. It wasn’t his physical appearance that drew her; it was the amazing feeling that washed over her in his presence. “Why are you here?” she asked, standing.

“I’m allowed to take a break from my temples now and again you know,” he said, flashing that brilliant smile at her once more. “I couldn’t let you die, could I?”

“But you weren’t with us on this expedition. Those rocks didn’t crumble, and I didn’t fall. None of this could be real,” she said, taking a few steps forward towards him and reaching her arms out to hug him. He stepped towards her, but he passed right through her. She turned around, and he was faced away from her, his arms still outstretched but slowly falling.

“I’m afraid it isn’t real,” he looked over his shoulder. “But you want it to be, right?” With that, he faded.



Sun awoke not an hour after she had fallen asleep. She hadn’t even bothered to get undressed, and now there were wrinkles in her clothes. She needed to take a shower and let her mind settle, and then she would get back to work. “I do want it to be real,” she whispered softly, and headed toward the bathroom and turning the cold knob of the door to push it open with a creak.

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/DanielNiAures.jpg
Dr. Daniel Ni Aures


It was by no means a comfortable looking room - unless, of course, you were a renowned, award-winning scientist - but with the lights switched off, the sterile laboratory seemed to be less intimidating. The air was pure and yet simultaneously it felt stale. Dust and germs were non-factors, constantly removed by a high-intensity vacuum and restricted by an airlock system; though if it weren't for technology, no doubt it would have been kept the same way thanks to the obsessive compulsive disorder of the room's lone occupant.

He sat hunched over the faint glow of a computer screen with his hands cupping the sides of his eyes. On the monitor, a lone microscopic entity appeared, though it was magnified billions of times for easier viewing. It was a mysterious life form from a system far away, probably never seen before by anyone around these parts. It was called a midi-chlorian, and the good doctor had become obsessed with it over the past few years...

When he had been asked nearly three months ago to join the expedition, he had been knee deep in an ongoing project of his. However, the parameters and details of the operation were quite persuading and Daniel agreed to join up. A mystery was always a sure bet to lure him in. Yet he could not leave his project as he knew it would constantly be on his mind while he was away. So he brought it with him. His attention was divided between projects, sometimes sticking with one for a day at a time, but his passion for both never dulled. It turned out to be a good idea to bring his work along, because over the past two months there had been little scientific work done in his area of expertise.

His mind was blank. His eyes tired and dry from staring at the screen. His arms weary from holding them to his head. He was stumped. Locked away in his room for three days with a seemingly brilliant idea had led him to this point: a dead-end. A heavy sigh broke the silence of the room as he switched off the monitor and made for the door. The lone light of the "outside world" pouring in through the glass door was his only guide. In the minute it took to proceed through the airlocks, Daniel's mind once again retraced his steps and came to the same frustrating conclusion.

It was time to move on. Entering another, more open, complex of labs and rooms, Daniel stared about at the apparent lack of people. Is it night? he wondered. The cave seemed to have no windows to the outside planet, but even if it had, locked away in his private lab, Daniel would have lost track of the time. Hell, he didn't even know what day it was anymore.

"Excuse me..." Daniel politely interrupted a conversation between two scientists that were standing near another doorway. "Could you lend me the time?"

Neither seemed to have a watch, but one pointed to a digital readout that gave the time. "We were just heading off to bed... and by the looks of it sir, you might want to also."

Daniel smiled in acknowledgement before walking down the adjoining hallway. The way the two looked at him it was obvious they didn't know exactly who he was. Perhaps a familiar face or something that nipped at their memory, but certainly not someone they knew by name. He was a shy person by nature, but being stashed away in his lab for days on end did not help either. Most of the scientists, he guessed, knew him only by reputation and report from the mission briefing files. Talking was a rare occurrence, and when he did it would be impossible to confuse with socializing. If they recognized him at all, it would be as his profile stated:

Dr. Daniel Ni Aures
Renowned scientist in his home system, highly regarded by his contemporaries as a "complex genius."
Specialty: Genomics
Degrees: Genetics & various biology and chemistry studies.

Nothing more. He was but a ghost. A phantom of the cave. Those he had talked to may well have forgotten their conversations already as Daniel disappeared into his den for a day or more at a time. But now he was out and walking around, though where his feet were leading him, he did not know. Traversing a seemingly random series of corridors, the plain and gentle man found himself in a room of certain surgical equipment that he was familiar with in text only. In the center, behind a panel of glass, lay a figure, though who it was, Daniel could not tell from his angle. Ever the curious scientist, he approached from the side until his hands were pressing against the firm glass.

"I-is this... a Vespian?" No... i-it can't be. The moral dilemmas, ethical questions, and legal consequences were not to be weighed lightly. How long has he been here? Is he dead? A series of questions flooded his mind as he could not believe what the others had done in his absence. Immediately, his body moved to the nearest workstation at which a computer sat. Two blinking lines of text appeared as he stirred the machine from its slumber: Log-in and Password. Trying his own information, which he had been given upon arrival, he found that he was logged into his normal network space with the magnified image of a midi-chlorian staring back at him. "Huh..." He sounded more surprised than anything. Despite his annals of knowledge, technology was something that completely eluded him. Having logged into his personal space from a remote access point for the first time, Daniel was upset to find that he couldn't access the information on the subject behind him, which he thought would be on the nearest computer. "Damn't..." he cursed quietly. Certainly they had information on the man behind him and had run some tests, but for the life of him, Daniel would never be able to figure out where that information was stored.

For several minutes he searched for the information in every place he could think of - which assuredly was quite limited - but it was all for naught. Despite his stubbornness when it came to science and information, the middle-aged doctor realized that his best bet was to wait until morning when he could ask someone about the "specimen." His legs were now quite weary - a combination of lack of sleep and muscle atrophy followed by prolonged use - but somehow they managed to instinctually carry him back to his room.

The door slid open to a dark room and Daniel headed straight to his bed. Clothes, shoes, everything remained on as his head hit the pillow... even his brain. His mind continued to work, chipping away at the day's puzzles. Eventually, every last light turned out as hid mind shut off and he drifted off to sleep...

The hot water rolled over her lightly tan skin and made her light auburn hair look dark brown. She had always loved the water, which had ultimately lead to her getting an apartment overlooking the beach. She didn’t’ take her necklace off when she showered; for the water wouldn’t harm it. It was made out of adamantine, the famed metal of her nation. It was unbreakable, and she was grateful for that. She wasn’t as careful as she would have been, but that did not stop her reverence for the accessory she adored so much. It was approaching morning, or she assumed so. It had to be, and with such a short amount of sleep, she was a bit tired. Then again, she needed to take her mind off some things. She and Demitri had just clashed, and it was more than likely over between them. Her parents would not have been happy. Luckily, they weren’t alive. How she ended up with Demitri was easy, it was an expected match like a cheerleader and a football player or a prince and a princess. It was expected to happen. She wondered if he would call her back, but highly doubted it. Strangely, she felt very little loss. She had Baralai on her mind, how could she feel the loss of Demitri when the loss of Baralai was more overpowering?

She stepped out of the shower and pulled a beige towel around herself and squeezed out the excess moisture from her hair in the sink. She waited a bit until it was half dry to rummage through her clothes. She figured no one would really be up this late save for a few people, so it wouldn’t matter what she looked like. She pulled on a pair of nicely fitting jeans and a brown belt along with a white t-shirt. She paused for a moment, and brought the necklace over her shirt. This was what she was wearing in the dream, as if she already knew. She sighed softly. It was a simply coincidence. Perhaps subconsciously she was thinking about what to wear to avoid anymore of Chris’ excursions, and in her sleep decided that she could work at night and perhaps get away with jeans. Who would yell at her anyway, as long as she was doing a good job, right?

She sat down on the edge of the bed and rummaged through the second drawer on her side table. She pulled out a piece of candy and unwrapped it. It was white chocolate, a big weakness of hers though unknown to many. If the only thing she ate for the rest of her life was white chocolate she’d be happy. Unfortunately nutrition and work prevented that. If only salad tasted like that. Her favorite salad was tolerable; mozzarella, tomatoes, spinach greens, and roman lettuce. Anything else she couldn’t’ deal with. She was a rather finicky eater. She looked over at the clock. Everyone should be headed to bed if not already sleeping. She stood up and walked to her door, then made her way down to the lab, without waking Chris.

She sat down at her lab bench, her hair slightly curling towards the tips for it was still a bit wet. She started up her equipment, and went to work.

Simon pulled the night vision goggles off his head with a groan, closing his eyes and being glad his legs were locked straight; otherwise he might have collapsed due to exhaustion. It had been a tiring night excursion. His backpack was filled with some sort of paper; since it used to be wood, it was just as heavy. He was not military, and though he tried to keep in shape he was not used to running through the woods, at night, seeing through a shitty green circle with thirty or more pounds on his back. He was standing in the doorway, the door itself having closed behind him silently.

He stepped forward, the electric lights over his head providing dim enough light to see - it was night, after all, and he bet they were all asleep. He wished he was asleep too, as he stripped the gloves off and shoved them in his pockets, though not before using them to wipe some of the camouflage paint, now running down his forehead as it mixed with sweat, out of his eyes. He stepped forward, walking slowly towards the main lab, which he had to walk through to get to his room, near the end of the corridor.

Damnit! I'm an anthropologist, not a spy or a military soldier, or anything like that. This isn't what I signed up for. Fucking Imperials and their fucking temporal directive. If it wasn't for getting kicked off and losing all funding I'd walk into town with a notebook and a cheeky grin any day rather than carry on with this elaborate farce. The lab was air conditioned to keep equipment - and Jim, he supposed - cool, while his room either was not or it had broken. He was no technician, he couldn't tell, and couldn't fix it even if it did exist. He planned on spending some time in the lab to cool off before going back to his room, to a shower and to blissful sleep.

It was funny. Up until now, he had considered Vespian nights to be cool, refreshing even. That was before a bulky, overheating active camouflage unit strapped behind his hip had nearly exploded while he was carrying thirty pounds of pulp and paper plus at least another twenty of sensitive mechanical equipment and camouflage clothes. Add to the mix the fact that his face had been smeared with what felt like grease and he was getting out of shape here on Vespia - they didn't exactly have anything like a working gym or a running track, luxuries he had grown used to visting several times a week, working on faculty at the University between research projects - and had had to sprint a good distance and then run the rest of the distance to the base, and even a cool night turned into hell.

He stepped into the lab, slinging the backpack gently down onto the floor against one of the walls, careful not to damage its precious cargo, and unzipped and pulled off his heavy camouflage jacket, followed by pulling the thermal undershirt he had worn, expecting the night to be cold, over his head before collapsing onto one of the chairs there and sinking against its plastic back, the cool surface against his bare back refreshing. He reached into the large pocket on his hip, pulling out a small towel with the words DON'T PANIC embroidered on one side and using it to start wiping the paint off his face. It washed easily and had been through worse.

It was then, pulling the towel - now smeared with dark green, brown and black paint - over his face, that he noticed Sun at her workstation, watching him with an expression his tired brain couldn't quite describe. He wondered if he was getting tunnel vision from exhaustion or if his peripheral vision was just dead from spending too much time looking through a night vision scope.

"Shit," he said, a little louder than he'd wanted, as he closed his eyes in mild embarrassment and reached down to grab the sweat-soaked undershirt. It was soaked through as he picked it up, and he dropped it again quickly. Looking up at Sun, he tried vainly to towel his face off again, the sweat helping to wash the paint off, and he spoke to her rather than himself. "I'm sorry," he said loudly. "I didn't know anyone would still be up. Shit. Sorry." He hated himself for sounding so stupid. He was used to being smooth around people, especially women. Now, whether the exhaustion, the environment, the 'conversational partner', or the situation he found himself in, something had robbed him of that.

Sun had slipped off into a dreamless sleep when the sound of Simon awakened her. She let Baralai’s name escaper her lips in no more then a soft whisper. She blamed that on the pendant around her neck. When ever she wore the pendent, she ended up thinking about Baralai. When she turned around she saw a strangely dressed man with makeup smeared al over his face. She had no idea what he had been doing nor really cared at first. The only thing she had to do was wake up. She looked down at her clothes only momentarily, and felt underdressed. Her jeans were comfortable with light tears around the cuff at the bottom from wear. Her plain white t-shirt was tight to her body accentuating her form and covering enough but it simply wasn’t something she took care to greet coworkers in. In all honesty she felt somewhat embarrassed not only for sleeping while hoping to get some work done, but also being seen by another like this and sleeping on the job combined. She supposed it was self-paced but still. She eyed the man once over again and rose to her feet. It felt good for once not to be in heels.

“What were you…nevermind, let’s get you cleaned up. I would die if anyone else saw me like that. I understand,” she walked over to one of the sinks and rummaged through the supplies to get a towel before soaking in the warm water and bringing it over to him. She delicately wiped away the thick compounds from his face. “I’d feel the same way if someone saw me like this. I feel so unprofessional; normal. Like someone would look down upon me here. Somehow you being like this negates that, and just makes me want to laugh.” She gave him a slight smile, but it was friendly. It was an awkward situation but she was trying to make the best of it. She really did have a sweet heart, but normally kept it hidden and protected by hiding it behind her studies. It was so early in the morning that it really wouldn’t matter if she showed some of it. She had a feeling that he was tired and wouldn’t remember much later in the day anyway. He needed some rest. Luckily, she had got a bit of hers before and after she started ‘working’ in the lab.

It hadn’t been apparent to anyone until now that Sun was only 5’4”. Without her two inch heals hid underneath her normal pair of black pants or her boots with her skirt, she was a bit shorter than she had been in those flat black boots she wore now. With her beautifully painted deep blue eyes and slightly damp hair at 2 am in the morning, it was hard to believe that she was a master chemist or that she had broken Chris’ nose the previous day. She was adorable. She was absolutely adorable. When the rag had been saturated with the dyes from the compounds, she took the towel and squeezed it out in the sink, and brought back another to wipe off whatever was left. She had sat him down in a chair for a better angle. With her height she felt a bit awkward reaching up to him. She cleaned off what was left then handed him a dry towel so that he could get off the excess water. She threw the used towels in a biohazard bin.

“You know that can be irritating to your eyes and skin if you wear it too long. The paraffin won’t bother you too much, but the carbon and chemicals in coloring can actually irritate your eyes making them hurt slightly if you’ve worn it for too long. Most people blame it on a headache, but it’s the paint,” she said, her natural instinct to explain chemicals getting in the way of a real conversation. He seemed like he was still a bit embarrassed, but did her best in her posture and body language to communicate that it was fine. She was a bit self-conscious herself. When she caught his eyes looking at the cross pendent around her neck, she turned a bit, and lifted it. She tucked it beneath her shirt. It cold still faintly be seen underneath the white fabric, at least the outline. Her tattoo of the same cross was on the inside of her left wrist, but she did not make it a point to hide that one, even though she would have on other occasions.

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

General Jack Valkare cursed under his breath. The Emperor had gone against his advice yet again. No more than a day after he had advised against it (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12187994&postcount=55), Emperor Bivens sent Sky Marshall Michael Zephyr (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12187994&postcount=56) and the Imperial 52nd fleet to Allanea in order to extort the Allanean government (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12187994&postcount=72) in their post-war rebuilding through the flagrant use of gunship diplomacy.

Operation Outreach had spread them thin enough in Valkare’s opinion. There were too many fleet outside of the Sector, and not nearly enough within it for defense. Has it been that long already? Valkare thought to himself. It had been less than a decade since they too had been at war, and it could still be argued that the Empire was still rebuilding itself.

“Sergeant!” Valkare called out his door. The sergeant, his secretary, came into his office to see what was up. “Is Colonel Sharp still aboard?” They had just concluded a meeting moments ago, however Valkare had just thought of something.

The secretary nodded, “yes.”

“Bring him back in, would you?” Valkare ordered. The secretary did as she was told, and within minutes Colonel William Sharp was back before the general.

“Sir?” Sharp asked. He had been almost to his shuttle when the secretary had found him. It had been some time since he had eaten last, and he was rather upset at the further postponement of his late night/early morning dinner.

“I want to talk to you about what’s going on down there,” Valkare said. Colonel Sharp was now at a cross-roads, his interest in the Vespians clashing with the needs of his stomach.

“Is there something I don’t know about, sir?” Sharp replied, figuring that it had been nearly ten hours already and that a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

“Perhaps,” Valkare responded. “But perhaps not. Either way, that’s not what I want to discuss.” Sharp listened on willingly. “What do you think of the research? Speak freely now…”

“Sir, I believe it to be invaluable,” Sharp, ever the marine, replied. “The technology we could produce from their ability would serve everyone well.”

“As do I, Colonel,” Valkare said. “Now…what do you think of the people?”

“Sir?” Sharp asked. It was not a question he had expected.

“The people, Colonel,” Valkare replied. “What do you think of them?”

“I…I don’t know the people, sir,” Sharp said in response. Valkare nodded.

“Nor do I,” he said. “Nor does the Emperor, for that matter. Barely a day passed in which the Emperor and I don’t argue, to some extent, about the proper path to take. Should we use the Vespian’s abilities, or rather the Vespian homeworld? New technology or a new military outpost? No one, however, not even me, stops to think of the Vespian people themselves.”

“Does it matter if we know them, sir?” Sharp asked. He wasn’t sure where the General was going with this. “Does it matter what we think of them?”

“No,” Valkare replied, bluntly but honestly. “But I sometimes wonder if it should…”

Simon let Sun take him over to get himself cleaned up, glad for the chance to relax and not have to worry about it himself, though he couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. She evidently hadn't expected anyone else to see her in the casual clothes - it was after two in the morning, after all. Of course, he was equally, and probably more, embarrassed, lacking a dry shirt to put on. Truth be told, he didn't expect any of them to act very professional inside the lab. He wanted them to be professional enough to stay on task and not screw anything up majorly, but besides that he didn't really care. Except when he was angry, in which case he would use any excuse to strike a personal blow at his target.

He recognized the awkwardness occurring between them, maybe even better than she did. He was usually smart, funny, and attractive, and was used to mindless girls fawning over him. He was not used to being in situations like this one, and was somewhat at a loss for words. He stood a good half foot taller than her, just shy of six feet, and his heavy boots didn't help the height difference any.

"I didn't know that," he replied, sounding almost interested as she described the problems with the face paint. "Unfortunately, I think it's the best we've got here, since this active camouflage," he indicated the satchel at his side, which was emitting a thin wisp of black smoke, "is absolute shit. I don't even know why they gave it to us. A Ghillie Suit would be better." Realizing he was still carrying the heavy package, he undid its latch and dropped it to the ground with a thud, not caring about the delicate equipment in it. It had failed to do its duty, and it deserved it.

"I suppose that also explains why my eyes hurt," he said with a nervous laugh. "Got any eye drops or something?"

“No,” she said, and then directly headed over toward her lab station and began mixing a few solutions together. “I don’t wear contacts. While I may not have any eye drops on hand, I can easily make some for you.” She went to work quickly, and efficiently as if she had made them before. In fact, she had. “A .05 tetrahydrozoline solution will relieve your eyes of the redness while zinc sulfate, at .25 act as the astringent. Benzalkonium chloride, boric acid, edentate disodium, purified water, sodium chloride, and sodium citrate are inactive ingredients, but help to moisturize the eye. The pH is level so no, boric acid or the citrate do not burn.” She was doing what she did best; chemistry. When she was finished she took an eye dropper and removed some of the liquid, then walked over to him. The whole process had taken about two minutes. She couldn’t help but notice his expression. “Trust me,” she reassured him. “I’m good at what I do.” She raised the eye dropper above her own eye and let a drop fall. She blinked twice as the excess residue ran down her cheek like a tear. There was no change in the appearance of her eyes, but brought attention to the unfeasibly deep blue color.

She handed him the eye dropper, and went back to her lab station to clean up. “I don’t know what you need camouflage for, but if I can go with you next time, I’ll make you something more efficient than that grease you’ve been using.” She said. She did want to leave this place, go out doors, or look around. She was just getting a little agitated doing the same thing every day. As much as she loved chemistry, she did have the heart for excitement as well. She looked over to the captured Jim, asleep in his tube. She sighed softly. She wanted to view the real thing and not through a comm-sphere. She wanted to see why these beings didn’t possess material that would respond to the receptors. She wanted to find out what was different about them. When she was done, she walked back over to Simon.

"How about it?" she asked hopefully, and you couldn't help but to be pulled into those blue eyes.

George stared at his ceiling, defeated. For the past hour and a half he had done everything possible to go to sleep, but sheep got old, warm milk didn’t sit well with his stomach, and he was never much of a reader.

His anger had receded, he realized, as he rose to make himself some coffee. In it’s place was now both a since of purpose and one of dreariness, a combination that he figured wasn’t the most productive. Yawning as he stirred his mug, George migrated to his desk and took a seat.

The coffee was strong and cheap, another poor combination. Sitting it down, George took notice of his personal computer, gradually formulating an idea. Perhaps if he read Marissa’s computer files he would be able to figure out what prompted her noticeable shift in attitude that erupted in his room last night.

Files were password protected from scientist to scientist within the cave, but, after all, this was George’s equipment. He paid for it, and he had been sure to set an administrative password allowing him access. This had been so that there was no way for the scientists to hold something over on him, and George strongly hoped that wasn’t what Marissa was trying to do.

He tilted his head back as she spoke, and dripped two drops of the substance into each eye, blinking away the excess and rubbing it away from where it fell beneath his eyes. Blinking a few times and handing her back the dropped, he smiled suddenly as it kicked in. "Hey, that really did work. You are good."

As he listened to her talk further, asking why he needed camouflage and mentioning a better solution, he grimaced slightly. "I need the camouflage because ... well, I'll be frank, since it's late and I'm sick of putting things in a good light for the funding people. I've been trained as a cultural anthropologist. Through history and even on my first case study, cultural anthropologists have studied culture by spending time with the people of the culture, getting to know them, watching their customs up close, learning their language, talking to them. I can't do any of that, because of the Empire's fucking Temporal Directive that says I can't directly interact with them, and I'm sick of it. So I wear this inefficient, god damned camouflage because if I don't I get fired from the project and thrown in jail." He stopped speaking and did his best to calm down some. The subject always got him heated, and recently the only person he'd had to vent to had been James, who had already heard it all. "I'm sorry," he said abruptly. "I didn't mean to ... never mind.

"I'd be happy to take you along one day. I've been out there alone all the time, and if you can come up with some better camouflage paint, well ... I don't know. We'll have to figure something out," he said with a cheeky grin. He was relaxing, and he knew she could probably tell. He could feel himself settling more into himself, not a tense, deer-in-the-headlights man with his shirt off.

Dressing himself and downing the disgusting coffee as quickly as he could, George strolled out of his room and into the lab. To his surprise and disappointment, he was hardly the only one awake. Sun was awake, and she was apparently cleaning Simon’s face for him, much like a mother would wipe the face of a child. Now they were doing something with eyedrops.

“You know,” George said, staring at Simon’s obsolete adaptive camouflage suit and trying to stifle a laugh. “We have far more updated models of those, without the satchel…” he couldn’t help himself, as a laugh escaped. “…or the smoke.”

“Yes, I’d love to go. It will give me something to do to whip up some non invasive coloring so that it won’t stain your skin either,” she said, looking at feint traces at some points where the camouflage had been. Indeed she had seen better, and could make better. She convinced herself so. She was the most reclusive female on the team, and it was strange to see her any other place than her room, lecturing Chris, or at her lab station. This early morning was quite a change. She was normally up early, but not this early, and usually in what she considered to be professional clothes, not a tight white t-shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans and boots. Not to mention the height difference from not wearing heels for the first time and a long time. It was then that George walked in, and she realized the awkwardness of the situation. Why did she feel awkward, she was just being a chemist. She was doing what she did best. She flashed her brilliant azure eyes at him and then turned her attention back to Simon.

“Make your jokes, George,” Sun said in her melodic voice. “But you don’t look this good with your shirt off.” She laughed. It was one of the only times she had ever made a joke. Her cheeks flushed but she played it off coolly, like a pro.

Simon laughed. Not at George, but at Sun's joke. At George, he directed a momentary glare he only half-hoped the other man would overlook. He did, after all, have disdain for the older man, not knowing of his good intentions. Simon viewed him as the authority figure stopping him from communicating directly to the Vespians, although he knew the Temporal Directive bound George's hands as much as his own. As George mentioned newer forms of active camouflage, Simon muttered some excuse about the Imperial scientists getting the best equipment, and looked down at the satchel for a moment, his eyes cleared. "I still don't trust them, even the new ones," he said louder. "What we should've spent our budget on is some good real camouflage - or better yet, buying off officials to let us talk to the Vespians."

Still, George's presence made him slightly nervous. He contemplated excusing himself for either bed, a shower, or a shirt, but then decided against it: it wasn't often he got the chance to spend time with a beautiful woman, especially on an assignment like this, and he wouldn't want to leave her alone with George, who he viewed as a colossal bore, either. It would be too cruel, even for one whose ethics were often quite lacking. He turned his attention back to Sun, trying his best to ignore George's mocking remarks. "Well I'll probably be going out observing them again tomorrow, keeping an eye on Susie and her kids, getting James to tell me what they're saying - it's low profile and low risk, so I think that would be an ideal time for you to come along." Secretly he really hoped she would want to come even so soon, as after two months of observing the same family, always on his own, with only the voice of his enigmatic data analyst and linguist in his ear, he was sick of it, and near breaking and entering into their house to scream at them, asking them what the hell they were talking about and how it related to their culture and origins. Watching them arguing over who got the last apple, who got to ride the big kids' bike, who was Mommy's favourite, it infuriated him to no end that he couldn't interact with them and take better notes.

“Next expedition you finance,” George snapped in response to Simon. “Make sure you run it your way.” Buying off officials? Were they all corrupt?

Sun’s comment didn’t phase him at all. Unlike Simon, he was old, but with the money he possessed, he needed neither looks nor youth. For a whiny, out of shape, middle-aged man, the amount of ass he pulled was unthinkable, and for everyone else, absolutely disgusting.

“Sure,” Sun responded, a bit shocked that he had asked her so soon. She didn’t really know Simon. Actually, she didn’t really know much of anyone. She knew their names but never really worked with them. She worked alone. It wasn’t until yesterday with Steven that she started unraveling mysteries, well, that is exaggerating, but still, she didn’t start until yesterday. She figured that this would be a good opportunity to learn more about her coworkers, and come closer to the actual thing that they were studying. Perhaps she’d be able to collect some samples. Maybe ‘Jim’ had a disease, or was deficient in some mineral the others wouldn’t be. Those other four unknown compounds could have been from vaccines or synthetically crafted chemicals which were injected into the bloodstream to fight off infection or disease, or a variety of things. She looked at George out of the corner of her azure eyes, then back toward Simon. “You know it’s getting early, and I’ve had very little sleep. I’ve had trouble sleeping as it were. I can walk back with you from the lab to the housing section and we can talk along the way…”

She really didn’t like George, but couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps it was because she thought he believed he could control people, or that he was better than them. She couldn’t really place her finger on it. Getting away from lab work would do her good as well, she was tired. Perhaps she could stop in with Simon and talk a bit more over coffee or something before she went back to her room. Honestly, she wanted to be as far away from Chris as possible.

Simon saw her small glance towards George and nodded slightly, smiling out of the corner of his mouth at her. Even though he didn't know her, he knew how everyone felt towards George, and wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. "I think that's a good idea," he said loudly, making sure to ignore or drown out any attempts George made at having them stay. He stood up from the chair and stepped forward, picking up his assorted items of clothing and grunting slightly as he lifting the heavy backpack but leaving the heavy satchel battery, from a very old and obsolete version he had been issued by the university research department - the less equipment provided by George he used, the better. Other researchers in the university had attested to that - lying on the floor under his chair.

Moving closer to Sun and putting his back to George, he whispered to her "Better hurry, before he gets any ideas about company," and waited patiently for her. When she was ready to leave, and they began the walk back to the housing section, he began speaking again. "If you want to drop in for coffee or something, just let me know. I don't think either of us will be able to sleep for a bit, and if you wanted some company, well ... let's just say I wouldn't want my last memory of interaction with people for the day to be George."

Sun nodded. “I think coffee would do me good. I’ve been having nightmares.” She shook her head again and laughed slightly. She found it silly for a woman of her experience and age to have nightmares. Nightmares were supposed to be for small children, and while she was a bit short, normal by her standards, she was hardly a child. That much was evident. “It seems that I cannot even close my eyes without waking up a few minutes later. I don’t know if its being in the same room for so many nights that is driving me crazy, or just my nerves.” She spoke in a complacent voice. Simon seemed to be a pleasant man. She hadn’t really got to know him that well, but she had as much as the circumstances had allowed her to. It was nice to have coffee with someone other than Chris. Someone who thoroughly embarrassed her today. She broke his nose right in front of other colleagues, and wondered silently if they would be afraid with her now; quiet, young Sun.

When they were far enough down the hall not to be overheard by George, she spoke again. “Thanks for getting away from George and premature thanks for the coffee, which I take black, no cream, no sugar,” she gave him a hopeful smile. She had lived on coffee. Coffee and white chocolate made her day, and it was that day she would have both. She ran her fingertips over the tattoo on her wrist. Hopefully, Simon’s company would take her mind off Baralai and the incident with Chris. Maybe for a few hours after she returned to her room, she would be able to sleep without interruptions.

George let out an exasperated sigh. At last, he was alone. The idea that they left because of him passed through his mind, however at this point he cared little. George was far too tired, and now, far too determined.

As quietly as possible, he sat down at Marissa’s console and booted it up. The screen lit the otherwise pitch black lab as it turned on and George quickly typed in his name where Marissa’s had been, and his password where the password should go. Upon the computer’s request, he also gave retinal and fingerprint scans, confirming his identity as the server administrator.

Looking over her information, and looking over his shoulder every now and then, he quickly realized how little of what they were doing he actually understood. There were words that he never heard of, much less was able to pronounce, and phrases and diagrams that could have been written in Vespian for all he knew, if he hadn’t recognized English pronouns and such.

As he grew more and more discouraged, as well as more and more paranoid, George was about to log off when a notice popped up on the screen. George stared at it for what had to be minutes, for the identities of the recipient and the sender sent a cold chill spiraling down his spine. As expected, the addressee was Marissa, but this message was sent from someone within the Empire.

“Why would she be talking to one of them?” he thought aloud, taking one last look over his shoulder before opening the message. At first sight, he had assumed that she already contacted the government about turning the project over to them and his anger began to surge, but the contents of the message were far different.

“Be sure whatever needs done to the specimen is done quickly,” the message read. “I fear that in time you will be discovered.”

George blinked, staring at the screen. He quickly scrolled up and down, unable to believe what he was reading. …Whatever needs done to the specimen… George instantly turned to face Jim, alone in his glass prison. His mind raced. What was she doing to him? Why couldn’t the others know? All of a sudden George felt very alone, and very scared.

“Looking for something?” a voice asked. It was male…Steven. George froze, unsure of what to say.

“Just seeing how everything’s coming,” he managed to reply. He quickly minimalized Marissa’s message.

“I wasn’t aware that you had access to the system like that,” Steven said, shrugging. He smiled. “You double-checking my work?”

“Just…uh…looking for progess,” George said, unsure if he could tell Steven of his findings. Given their friendship, they could easily have been working together, or if not, he would most likely tell her of his suspicions, ruining his chance to discover what she was doing. George decided to test the waters. “How long have you and Marissa been friends?”

“About four or five years,” Steven replied, raising an eyebrow to the randomness of the question. “Since back in my academy days. Why?”

“She highly recommended you,” George said, playing it cool. “Out of everyone here, you were her first choice. Your paycheck was the first I wrote out.” Steven grinned. He hadn’t known that.

“She was my teacher freshman year at the academy,” Steven explained. “Absolutely loved me. She quit after my sophomore year to work independently, but I did all my intern projects with her, and we became quite close.”

“Oh?” George asked, this time being the one to raise an eyebrow. How close are they? Steven merely laughed, shaking his head.

“Not like that,” he said. “She’s more like a mother to me.” Steven’s smile quickly faded. “I don’t even remember mine.”

“I didn’t know,” George said.

“I didn’t know her,” Steven continued, sounding more disappointed than sad. “I don’t know if that makes it easier or worse.”

“I’m sorry,” George replied, once again unsure of what to say.

“It’s fine,” Steven said, his former cheerful self returning. He approached the console to George’s side. George’s almost innocent interest in his work had always made Steven feel good about himself, and Steven loved every minute of explanation he gave the man. “What are you looking at there?”

George froze, yet again. He tried to think, tried to say something, tried to lie, but nothing came out. Steven quickly realized that George was looking at her messages.

“Are you serious?” Steven asked, his voice rising as he turned on George. “Are you honestly looking into her messages? Don’t you have anything better…?”

“Steven, wait!” George said. He decided to let the message talk for itself. Quickly clicking on it, he leaned back so that Steven could read it up close.

“Be sure whatever needs done to the specimen is done quickly,” Steven read, his eyes darting over the words. “I fear that in time you will be discovered.”

“Who’s this from?” Steven asked, his voice low. He sounded somewhat unnerved.

“The Empire,” George replied. “Imperial Governmental Relay #1001.”

“Then it’s definitely not for Marissa,” Steven laughed. He was almost worried for a moment there. George stared up at the scientist dumbfounded, pointing to name it was addressed to: “Dr. Marissa Corrigan.”

“Steven,” George began. “Last night Marissa came up to me in my room.” Steven shot him a look. Already he didn’t believe George. Marissa would not go to his room, of all people. George read his mind. “Look I know it’s unlikely…but that’s my point. That woman hates nothing more than the Empire and men she doesn’t approve of…namely me.” Steven’s expression eased. George was quite right. “But last night…in my room, of all rooms, she told me that I should turn the project over to the Empire…said she was looking out for me…trying to save me money.”

“Marissa wouldn’t say that,” Steven replied, defensively. He stepped back, shaking his head. This is just a misunderstanding…

“Exactly,” George said. “And she wouldn’t be talking to the Empire either.”

“The Empire’s been requiring reports lately,” Steven continued, looking for valid excuses to clear her name.

“Which go to General Valkare,” George replied, scrolling down on Marissa’s inbox. “Here…she sends them to him under ‘Imperial Military Relay #724.’ Whoever #1001 is, it’s unaddressed, and I have a feeling that he or she works for the government directly.”

“It can’t be right though,” Steven pressed. “Look at the message…I fear that in time you will be discovered…there’s no way the Vespians will find us here. We’ve caught them walking past and even over the mountain with no suspicions whatsoever.”

“Find us here?” George said, looking back over the message. Could that be what it means? Now, he was unsure. “Steven, there are nearly fifty messages from this number 1001, and all of them are from last night. Now, last night’s the first night she’s said any of that, much less talked to me for that long…there has to be a connection.”

“Perhaps she too thinks that we’ll be discovered,” Steven replied, wondering why she hadn’t confided this in him. “She may be afraid of the Directive. If the Empire’s caught…nothing will happen. If a private expedition is caught…we’d have a lot of trouble to deal with.”

“I’m not sure that’s what it is,” George said, frowning. It seemed too simple. “You guys…you’re not doing anything to the Jim, as the message says. You’re just running tests…making observations. What if…what if Marissa’s doing something to him? What if number 1001 is afraid that you guys are going to find out about it?”

“George, that’s ridiculous,” Steven replied, defensive again. “Jim’s under constant scans. If something was different…wouldn’t even have to be wrong, just different…the scans would pick it up instantly.”

“But the scans can’t even pick Jim up,” George said. “How do we know if they can pick up something wrong with him?”

“Now you listen here, George,” Steven said, beginning to feel far too uneasy about the situation. “I’m not going to say anything to Marissa, and neither are you…understand?”

“Say anything about what?” Marissa asked, stepping into the lab. She was wearing her adaptive camouflage, ready to go out for the day. George checked his watch; the sun should be up by now.

“George, here, logged into your computer,” Steven said. Marissa frowned, glaring at George.

“Doing what?” She asked. George looked at Steven for a response.

“Searching the bugs in bedrooms,” Steven lied, a false disgusted look spreading across his face. “Trying to see women getting ready in the morning.”

“Disgusting,” Marissa muttered before turning and walking out of the cave. Steven turned back to George.

“Just drop it, ok?” Steven said. “I’ll find out if she’s worried about us being discovered. I won’t mention the message. As for your ‘theory’…I think you couldn’t be more off.”

George looked up at Steven from his chair as the chill down his spine grew more and more intense with each passing second. Steven had lied to her, his best friend, and now he was lying to him. Steven was as concerned as he was, and the shared feeling of uneasiness struck George more than any message did.

Staring at Jim as Steven shut down Marissa’s computer and logged onto his own for to monitor Marissa’s daily observations, George came to a conclusion: something had to be done about Jim.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been abused by a girl,” Steven replied with a slight snigger at the bloody mess that was Chris. He paused, laughing to himself as he stared down the hall at Sun’s door. “But honestly…all I can tell you is to give her the time…and space…she needs.” He shrugged, almost embarrassed. “I have to admit that I’m hardly the one to talk to about women.”

Chris chuckled and nodded. Useful advice...especially with Sun. He sighed and turned to walk back into his room after saying his own goodnight and closed his door. He doubted he could get to sleep at all- not with his nose in the shape it was.

He looked into the mirror and winced as he poked and prodded at it. Cursing, loudly, he tossed his tissues angrily in the trash can and got a paper towel, using that to clean up the slowing stream of blood as he sat at his desk and carefully lifted COW.

"Look what she's done to you..." he sighed as he began to pull COW apart, cursing again as he got blood on the table. The battered technician pulled out a drawer filled with thousands of wires, seeming to overflow with the clutter of them. Pulling out a handful, Chris began to sort through them effortlessly, as if he'd done it before. And indeed he has... many times...not really because of Sun, either. But other occasions. Bigger wires for better feed, different brands, need of longer wires, whatever he needed to get the job done. Yes, Chris was a slacker...but he was productive when he wanted to be. He wasn't exactly stupid- he was a genius- but again, only when he wanted to be.

He narrowed his eyes in anger as more blood fell on his small robot.

Stupid boy- you'll never amount to anything...

***

" Stupid boy, you'll never amount to anything! Get up, idiot!" came the gruff voice of "Sarge", as the boys called him.

"Well, I would, if you'd stop kicking my-Ooof!"

A kick to the ribcage sent the much younger Chris to the ground, wheezing for air. He had heard a crack then- he was sure of it. Already his nose was bleeding, one of his teeth was chipped, and he was too scared to look below his waist. He heard a loud curse and a few laughs nearby as he heard the heavy footsteps coming closer.

He's gonna kill me...I know it. I'm going to be like all those others...dead...

Indeed, not many "Natural Born" were able to make the Blastonian Elite- one of the toughest, and hardest branches of the military to enroll in. It was usually comprised of the Gen. En.- or Genetically Engineered. Monsters bred for combat in any way, shape, or form. They felt no fear, they felt no remorse...or at least they weren't supposed to.

And why was Chris here?

Because he had to be so dang smart. He answered his placement test a little too well. Next thing he knows, his parents receive a letter in the mail explaining how he was to be taken from their hands and dropped off at "Dandy Farm", or rather, "Reaper's Realm", as the "Oldies" knew it as.

And now that he had grown- and survived- the first seven years of Dandy Farm, he was now considered an "Oldie".

"Get up, you infernal trash heap!" roared "Sarge", his instructor for the year...for the next three years to be exact. The man was huge. He was a Gen. En., standing at about seven foot, muscles bulging from his naked chest, dark red eyes, and very reptilian features. In fact, Sarge was no regular Gen. En. He was a Blastit- a genuine angel of death, taken from the "Glorious Master" that was Blastit1. However, Sarge was Blastit #3784, well past the original 974 Blastit's- who were the most powerful, and most feared of them all.

But Sarge was most feared in Reaper's Realm for his incredible brutality- especially on Brass Visit Day. When some of the top brass watched in unseen places to make sure everything was up to par.

"Hold on there. If you let me catch my breath...and give me a minute afterwards...you won't be sorry."

Sarge paused and took in a few breaths before giving out a snort of laughter. "Alright. I'll play your game. I'll give you a minute to run anywhere you want."

Chris didn't need another word. He got up as fast as he could, stumbling a bit before he finally succeeded and ran. Ran to the only place he knew as home- the Barracks. It was empty- the way he hoped it would be. He wrapped his thin blankets around him and began to sob, trying to keep it as quiet as possible, despite the fact that marching soldiers, firing weapons, and shouts would block out his cries.

Any minute now, that door will open, Sarge will come in with his gawking idiot fan-boys, and kill me...I just want to be back home...

Sure enough, the door opened. However it was a gentle opening, not the slam he had expected. However the footsteps were unmistakable, someone heavy was coming towards him.

"Crying? Why does one cry?" came an unnaturally deep voice that demanded respect...and compliance.

"Why does one cry? Why does one force me to come here and die for-" growled Chris before he realized who he was talking to. It was unmistakable, the armor that resembled knights of ancient times- black plate, shimmering red borders. The infamous Fifty Second General, a very close friend to Glorious Master. Chris immediately felt stupid, covering his head with his blanket. "I'm sorry..."

"Your words are brave, little one, as are your actions. Yet you do not fight like one of your kind would," Fifty Two replied, approaching the boy and grabbing Chris' tiny neck with his massive hand. "Why are you here? This is no place to run...this is a place for compliance and punishment. For training and to become indestructible. Many vie for your position, even if it means certain death. What are your reasons?"

Getting a bit more courage from the general's words, Chris coughed out some blood and shook his head. "I aced your stupid test. You should really add a 'choose your own armed forces' box, so I can fill in the 'none of the above' bubble."

The General, either incapable of laughter, or just not finding Chris' comment funny, set the boy down and shook his head. "So...where do you want to go then?"

"College. School. That's where I belong, not in combat boots. Preferably, somewhere away from the Blastit Empire," Chris replied. He paused as he rethought his words and quickly added, "because I want to experience other lands, other worlds, other cultures...other, everything. And I miss my family."

"You will fail out there...just as everyone not in the Blastit Empire has. This is Euphoria," came the expected biased answer.

"Hence better reasoning to explore out there. Imagine, building my character to become the best Blastonian there is...other than you and the other 193 Blastit's out there, of course. Plus, you haven't even seen me in self-defence, I bet."

Fifty-Two stood silent for a minute, before the door opened with a slam. This time, Sarge and his "lackeys" piled through, stopping to bow at the General.

"My lord...pleasure to see you again. I am here to finish our little game I had with Chris."

"Game has ended. Do not concentrate your training on single students, but the class as a whole. Improve your teaching skills lest we replace you."

Sarge winced subtly and bowed low, before pushing his students out the door.

"Alright. You are free to go back home, after getting fixed up by the medics. Then you shall go to a college or university of your choice, but you must report to me every month on your observations. Think of it, as a diary. That will be all..."

With that, the General walked out the door to disappear once again, leaving Chris in awe and wonder- unsure if what he heard was true.

"I'm freeee!" he laughed, jumping up and raising his hands, before falling down to his bed with a rattling cough. "Partially..." he gasped as he decided now was the best time to get to the medic. He may not have broken ribs, but he had something...

***

Chris felt a few hot tears fall down his cheeks. If I hadn't wimped out...I wouldn't have a broken nose. He thought to himself as he dropped his tools and leaned back on his chair, resting his forehead on his bloody hand. If I hadn't left...I'd be dead.[/I

"Where are you Sun? You said you would check on me in an hour..." he said quietly, half wishing she did come to check on him, yet half wishing her not to so he wouldn't reveal his tears. [I]Or you just hate your 'friend' more than usual now?

He began to sob quietly as he realized these old memories he was digging up may be a sign of losing his own sanity. Staying cooped up with people he barely knew, the only one he did know - someone he was in love with- would rather break his own face in than give him a hug or even a compliment might do that to someone. Heck, no one even seems to appreciate my own inventions.

His tears of sorrow turned to tears of anger as Chris furiously pushed off the bundle of wires, leaving them scattered on the floor. His nose began to bleed again and he cursed quite loudly, walking over to grab a whole bunch of paper towels, before throwing the roll against the door and throwing himself onto his bed.

The sun was starting to come up as the two of them arrived at Simon's door and he opened it with a few quick touches to the keypad beside the door. As he beckoned her through the door in front of her, he said "I'm no psychologist, despite a few secondary school courses to the contrary, but I'd guess your nightmares are from being cooped up all day every day for two and some months. Getting out, getting some fresh air, even if it is through a shitty university AC kit, should do you a hell of a lot of good."

The living unit was made up of three small rooms and a couple adjoining closet-sized spaces. The first had a small couch, a chair, and a few amenities to make his time there more comfortable. A computer -his own - was set up in the corner. To the left was the kitchen, and off that the bathroom, and past that was the small bedroom, with a closet tucked into it. The whole area didn't take up more space than a single large living room, such as one found in an Earth house. After placing his removed clothes and backpack in a corner, he moved towards the kitchen, talking to Sun over his shoulder. "Make yourself at home. The couch is comfortable. I'll just be a moment."

“Sure,” she said with a pleasant smile. “Thanks,” she called out after him as he disappeared into one of the other rooms. She took off her shoes at the door, something she was trained to do, and it was in her nation as a customary respect. She sat down on the couch that seemed to close around her form. She leaned on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes momentarily. It was then that she realized just how tired she was. She adjusted her position and was half sitting half lying on the couch. He did say make yourself at home, and well, she was comfortable. The couch was comfortable. She leaned on the arm of the chair and put her head down to partially lay on her side, and closed her eyes. She was soon fast asleep; still in her jeans and white t-shirt with her long auburn hair trailing over one shoulder and those azure orbs hidden from sight. She looked so peaceful; angelic almost.

He returned from the kitchen only a few minutes after entering it, a mug of coffee in each hand. One, on the side, apparently called him the '#1 Dad ... on *name of uninhabited rock here*'. The other was plain yellow. Both were steaming and filled with coffee. As he walked around the end of the couch, wondering just where she had gone, he noticed and smiled out of the corner of his mouth and exhaled from his nose, like a laugh. He bent his knees slightly and set the two mugs on the small table that sat in front of the cough, leaving them there with the steam slowly rising.

Tiredness overcoming him, he decided to shower in the morning - he was certain he would be up before her, as he had an efficient alarm clock in the bedroom and she didn't - and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him and taking off his camouflage pants before lying down, pulling the covers over his prone form, and laying his head on the pillow. He was asleep within twenty seconds, just in time to get about four hours of sleep.

She shifted so that she was entirely on the couch, one of the cushions she was using as a pillow. As she slept she had her hand clasped over the tattoo on her wrist. It was then that she waited for the dreams to come, for this endless sleep to be interrupted once more. Nothing came. It was then that she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The door slid open and James stepped into the room, his eyes bleary and his hand warm from the mug of hot tea he held. He used to drink coffee until his girlfriend had convinced him to try English-style tea, and he'd never looked back. He looked around and yawned as his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room. Only the floor lights, small dim electric lights on the baseboards of the room, provided dim illumination. He reached over with his left hand and flicked the light switch, bringing on the overhead lights with a flicker. And he noticed Sun on the couch. His eyes widened. She was lying on the couch, her head on one of the cushions as a pillow, and one of the blankets from Simon's bed was carefully placed over her, reaching form her feet to her shoulders. Sitting on the table were to untouched coffee mugs.

From the kitchen's open door Simon leaned his head into the room and furrowed his eyebrows when he saw James. "James?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Sun. "What are you doing here?" He was dressed messily, almost comically, his hair still wet from an early-morning shower, and he wore a large, loose T-shirt with the words 'AnthCon 2003' on the front over a badly-drawn logo, and on the back the words 'Earth Anthropologists' Convention, 2003'. It had been free and he had procrastinated being given it as long as possible, ending up with, predictably enough, one of the largest sizes. he'd only been there because, as a newly-graduated anthropologist, he had no idea how terrible it would be. He regretted it very much now.

"What is she doing here?" James hissed, moving quickly towards Simon. They spoke in hushed whispers, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman.

Simon put a finger to his mouth. "Shhh, you'll wake her up. Let her sleep. She needs it." He grinned, knowing his friend would misinterpret the statement.

"You mean you ..." James asked, wide-eyed. "No ... you can't have ..."

Simon grinned wider, enjoying himself. "We're going out together as of last night." James sagged back. His friend never ceased to amaze him. Simon couldn't keep it up any longer, and laughed loudly. "No, I'm just messing with you. We were talking in the lab and she came back here for some coffee and passed out on the couch. Nothing happened. Though I am taking her out into the field with me today."

"Right," James said, suddenly lost in thought. "Did you get my-" Simon pointed to the backpack in the corner, which James walked over and picked up with some effort. "This thing's heavy, Simon. What's in it? Bricks?"

"Thick books. With lots of dust on them." He saw James take another look at Sun, on the couch, and he could tell his friend's mind was filled with doubt. He sighed. "Look, do you want to join us for breakfast? I was just making some stuff, and if it'll dismiss all your doubts I'm happy for you to join us. I'm just waiting for her to wake up. She mentioned nightmares, but she's been sleeping like a baby so I don't want to wake her up on her own."

James nodded. It beat eating alone, again. "Sure," he said, taking the backpack and setting it down against the wall again, and both men, standing near the doorway, turned their heads to look at Sun, still on the couch.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sun shifted in the warmth of the blanket, pulling it a bit more tightly around herself with a pleasant expression on her face. It was so nice. It was one of those mornings where you didn’t want to wake up no matter what you had going on that day. She didn’t even know if it was morning, but she felt rested. The second thing she noticed was that she was not in her own bed, and by turning her head she could see the coffee cup, still untouched. No steam came from the top. She slowly sat up, with her back to the two men. She had not realized they were there. She ran one hand through her long auburn hair to straighten it, and then stretched her arms over her head and let out a soft sound. It felt so good to have slept so peacefully. She should come here more often. She stood up and turned around, and immediately stopped with widened eyes, thoroughly embarrassed she was standing there in nothing more than a white t-shirt and jeans, not to mention just waking up. Even though she felt this way, she felt even more self-conscious considering her height without shoes, even when she really didn’t have a reason to be. It’s the way she felt.

“I…I…” she said, trying to process the thought of James being here as well, and Simon…at the same time, both staring directly at her. She felt her cheeks flush, and the rosy hue brought color to her lightly tanned skin. “Good Morning,” she managed in a melodic voice.

Simon smiled warmly. James stared at her for a moment, not believing his eyes, and then blinked and recovered. He gave her a smile, but it seemed false, and he was obviously nervous. "Er ... good morning," he said, raising his free hand to scratch his head.

"'Morning, Sun," Simon said, stepping in closer to her to draw her attention away from James' social awkwardness. "Want some breakfast? I was just waiting for you to get up to make some. After all, you need some good food if you're coming out in the field with me, and I don't trust the cooking machines out there." he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the rest of the cave. It explained his absence from any communal eating that had ever taken place, though he had usually figured George would probably be the only one present, most likely too helpless to even feed himself. For a brief moment, he flashed her a winning smile, but let it disappear again quickly, replaced once again by the warmth of his happy, neutral face. He was relaxed once again, and seemed quite used to having ladies wake up in his chambers. At least, if he wasn't, he was disguising it very well.

Marissa went about her day as if it were any other. She frowned, staring through her binoculars. Fred was still not back, and absolutely nowhere to be scene. Bob was still resting in bed, and from time to time Anne would go to his room to check up on him or bring him things that he needed. Jane had been cleaning all day, and Marissa figured that it was to surprise Fred when he returned.

Still, Fred’s disappearance was somewhat of a mystery. In the two months and almost a week since Marissa had been observing his family, she could count the number of times Fred left the family farm on one hand, and those were only on Sundays, or what was Sunday to Marissa at least. She checked her watch: Thursday.

“Steven, what the hell am I doing out here?” Marissa asked over the comm, sitting back away from her binoculars and leaning up against a tree. The tiny cameras on the back of the adaptive camouflage slowly adapted, and Marissa’s stomach and legs began to turn brown, blending into the tree. “Am I really learning anything?”

“A lot of the learning comes later,” Steven replied, watching what she watched over the video feed, seeing what she saw. He was still quite unnerved about what had transpired a few hours ago with George, and that unexplainable message.

“How’s Jim coming?” she asked, as if she was reading Steven’s mind.

“Our data collection is nearly complete,” Steven replied. “He could probably go back tonight if we wanted to.”

“No,” Marissa said in return. “He goes back tomorrow, like we planned.”

Suddenly, with suspicion getting the better of him, Steven wondered why she had said it like she did. Did she sound stern? Was she demanding? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of suspicion. This was his friend, his best friend no less, and George was an old fool. Still…

“Is something on your mind?” Steven asked her, being sure to leave the question open-ended.

“Such as?” Marissa replied.

“You seem to be different as of late,” Steven responded, keeping his words vague, his descriptions hollow. “Like something’s bothering you.”

“I really don’t know what to tell you,” Marissa said.

“I noticed you staring at Fred’s face a lot,” Steven continued.

“Was I?”

“The picture of him staring directly at you…” Steven paused, trying to make it sound as if he was thinking. “You don’t think we’ve been discovered do you?” Marissa sat up once more and crawled over to her binoculars. Fred was still not back.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Marissa replied. Steven could tell that she was growing uncomfortable. “The whole thing has me worried. George falling down, you getting caught…and yes…Fred staring in my direction and my comm shutting off as he whispered…but these have just been two bad days.” She sat back once more. “We’ve gotten through two good months. I’m sure these are just…bumps in the road.”

To Steven, that all but confirmed his suspicions. Marissa was worried, he told himself, nervous about being detected, but she realized that moving quickly and getting the job done, as the message she received has suggested, wouldn’t work in this situation. The next step, Steven thought to himself, would be to turn the project over to the government, putting the risk of discovery on their shoulders, and not hers and George’s.

“Listen,” Marissa said, refolding the binocular tripod and rising to her feet. “Fred’s not here and his family’s not doing anything. In all honesty I don’t feel the best right now and I think I should just look some stuff over in the lab.”

“Fine by me,” Steven replied. “I need a shower and some lunch anyhow.”

By the time Marissa had returned, Steven had already left the lab. She moved fast, quickly stripping off her adaptive camouflage in the middle of the room and logging into her computer. She had a job to do, one that she should have done yesterday, and she realized that she would be far better off doing it alone.

However, in her haste, she failed to see George standing beside the glass tube. His attention previously affixed to the man in the glass cylinder, it quickly shifted to Marissa as he stared past her, at the screen.

“Um…sure. That would be great, but you don’t have to if it’s too much trouble," s he smiled at Simon hoping silently that it wasn’t too much trouble. Frankly she didn’t want to go back to her room, for if she did she would have to face that cell phone. Still a bit embarrassed, but getting better gradually, she placed one hand over her chest just near her collarbone as a habit. When she found that the necklace was not there, she lifted the cover from the makeshift bed and picked up a long silver chain with the temple cross on the end and hooked it around her neck, and tucked it within her shirt. She smiled nervously. “Just a keepsake from home, but it means a lot to me,” she explained. Then looked from James to Simon, from Simon to James. She really hadn’t had breakfast with anyone else but herself, and occasionally Chris. She cooked within her room what little she could. She wasn’t normally a breakfast person, but having skipped dinner, she could defiantly eat something.

Simon's smile widened as James watched in part awe, part horror. To him, this was more than an innocuous visit. Simon always called him melodramatic and claimed he overreacted to everything. Maybe so. But to him, this suggested deep underlying - he told himself to stop.

"It's no trouble," Simon said. "I like having company, and with just this sad head case over here," he playfully shoved James on the side of the shoulder, "I've gotten kind of tired of hearing stories about his girlfriend and kid." Hiding his mouth behind the back of his hand, he whispered theatrically "Don't mention them, you'll set him off," which earned him a shove on the shoulder from James in retaliation.

"Besides," Simon continued, suddenly realizing what he was wearing and that the clothes he wore just to relax in, not to actually greet anyone or entertain company, the AnthCon shirt, was slightly embarrassing, he continued, trying his best not to draw attention to it. "I go to great lengths to get the university people to sneak some good food in amidst the research packages they send me. They're good friends of mine, and it's no problem if a few high quality eggs, steaks, frying pans, butter, go missing from the university kitchens. One thing about professors: they might not be able to teach worth a damn, but they feed themselves well. Which explains their waistlines." He dramatically gestured with his hands, bowing low, inviting her to enter the kitchen. "Entrez s'il-vous plait, madames et messieurs, entrez dans la cuisine pour certains petits dejeuners ce qui sont delicieuse." It had been some time since his education in French, but it paid off occasionally. Now was one such occasion.

“Ya ne znayu a shto vee dymaete!” Sun exclaimed, shaking her head with a smile. She had a brilliant Slavic accent, which was, perhaps because she was Russian. It was very subtle when she spoke, but so much thicker now, richer. “Pa-fransooski? Shto Vee!” (I don’t know what you’re thinking. French? What were you thinking/what’s wrong with you…) She grinned, and walked into the kitchen, feeling a bit more at ease. She noticed James uneasiness and figured maybe, just maybe, she could have some fun with this. She wasn’t normally the type to play mind games, but she hadn’t been out of this place for a while, she needed something to do. She sat down in one of the chairs and observered Simon’s t-shirt. She raised her eyebrows. AnthCon must have been pretty interesting, she thought to herself, and folded her hands in her lap. She had remarkable posture; as it was rude to sit slouched to a host, no matter who he was coworker or otherwise. She eyed Simon, wondering how well he could play off of her comments. She did have a quick wit.

Her accent softened significantly, and was nearly gone by the end of the sentence. “AnthCon?” she laughed a little bit and smirked. “You know, you looked better wearing no shirt at all than that shirt.” Ah, poor George.

Simon opened his mouth to protest, but caught the look in her eye and winked at her instead. The other two were seated at the small round table in his kitchen, where four chairs had been tucked into the four sides. He turned to face her, behind James, and leaned against the small two burner stove behind him. "Yes, well, you should know it was dreadfully boring. Unlike some, ah - other activities." His face rocked for a moment with laughter, but he suppressed the noise so James - who meanwhile was slowly turning bright red - wouldn't notice. Simon walked around the table, to James' left, and Sun's right, and leaned down closer to her, taking no notice of James. "What would you like for breakfast, my dear?" he asked her.

It was then that Sun’s cheeks deepened with a rosy hue. God, he was doing that a lot to her lately. She shouldn’t’ be so embarrassed. It took a few moments, after staring into her eyes with her deep blue orbs for her to speak. “Anything is fine really,” she said with a friendly smile. She was having fun, dare say it. She didn’t know why it was so fun torturing James, but bouncing off of Simon was easy. They set each other up, whether they realized it or not. It was a chance to put to work her skilled lingual abilities and start making this more solidified. She noticed Simon was still leaning forward, but looking at him now didn’t catch her of guard.

“Well, I mean…I’d give anything for a Belgian waffle with strawberries; however I think you’re out of whip cream.”

They were both lucky the back of his head was towards James, as he all-but burst out in laughter, and his comical face would have betrayed him. James, his eyes wide, was whispering something silently under his breath. Simon knew what it would be; something along the lines of 'you lied to me'. He straightened up. "Well, I'll see what I can do," he said, pulling himself together to put on a slightly straight face. "But I guarantee you there's no whipped cream."

He walked over and opened a small cupboard, at the same time pulling open the small fridge underneath it and pulling out a pint container of strawberries. "Well, I've got strawberries, but I'm all out of waffle mix." He turned his head towards her. "I'll be sure to ask for some from the professors. Though they might be out too." He turned his head back to the cupboard, muttering under his breath. "Fat bastards."

"How about something traditional?" he asked cheerfully. "Something like fresh fruit, bacon, and toast? Maybe some eggs? An omelette? Just say the word, Sun. I'll get you whatever you want."

"You better. After all…” she stopped herself. Oh no, James was there. Her blue eyes flashed towards Simon. “Sure, eggs and some fruit would be great. I’ve basically been living off honey bunches of oats…and I hate milk and only eat the honey bunches, so…well, there you go.” She wondered how long she could keep this up. She wasn’t normally like this. Normally she was quite reclusive. But between Chris, Simon, and Steven in the past few days, she had started to have fun. She would have lied if she said hitting Chris was not fun. Well, it was enjoyable as she had been waiting to do it for a long time. She was not only enjoying the word play but also the fact she was being waited on. Albeit, it could have just been part of the game. Her voice, as she spoke was soft, as if she had lost it a little, but not entirely. It still carried her melodic hum.

"Well then," he said, taking from the fridge a carton of eggs, and some pieces of fruit. An apple, a couple of oranges, a banana, some blueberries, and the strawberries were removed from the fridge, and he placed them ceremoniously in the centre of the table before removing from the carton two eggs and cracking them into a frying pan already sitting on the stove.

"You're unusually quiet, James," he said quite naturally. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"I ... you ... never mind," James replied eloquently.

Simon shrugged and addressed Sun again. "All right then. How do you take your eggs, my dear?"

"Sunny side up," she said promptly with a grin. Some part of her felt bad for making James feel uncomfortable. Eventually she knew that they would tell him. She wondered what time it was, but didn’t care to ask. She supposed she should check in on Chris soon. He did have a broken nose. She placed an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand while looking at him.

“You know, perhaps we should wait one more night before we go out. I mean, it would give me more time to synthesize the compounds needed and would put this as a relaxation day. I haven’t taken a day off of work since I got here. Not even weekends,” she said. Both of them could attest to that. They really could never see her anywhere else but her lab station. She had a glow about her this morning that James could assume meant other things, but it just meant she was finally finding people to talk to and she could get things off her chest that she hadn’t to in a long time. She had told Steven about her tattoo, and now had joined in with Simon, who let her sleep on his couch and made breakfast for her, in a quite inside joke.

"Well someone's cheerful today," Simon said, raising his eyebrows at her request for sunny side up eggs, as he proceeded to cook them. Unable to resist such a golden opportunity, he bent his knees and put his head near James' head, using his theatrical whisper once again. "I know why." He then straightened up and resumed cooking the eggs, whistling a little tune to himself. James spluttered and groaned. He missed his girlfriend. He'd talked to her, and seen videos she sent of their son, but it wasn't the same. He wanted to go home so badly, and this situation with Simon and Sun was not helping at all.

Simon continued talking to Sun. "Well, it's up to you. I mean, I'm out there most days. We could probably both use a day of relaxation. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. It's up to you, I'm flexible." He grinned and bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“I’m rather flexible as well,” she beamed back at him. It was then that Sun simply could not keep a straight face. Looking into his eyes, seeing the laughter, and she found it. She laughed, her eyes tearing slightly. “I’m sorry James…” she managed to grin at him. She laughed a bit more, and heard Simon join in. “Nothing happened between us. I was tired, and I was working late. Simon came in, and latter George. We came back here to have coffee and get away from George when I fell asleep. I hadn’t been sleeping well. I’ve been having…nightmares so I figured that’s why I wasn’t awakened sooner. I guess it was just being in that lab for so many days on end. I needed to have some fun.” She gave him a friendly smile, offering peace. “I’m sorry it had to be at your expense.” She looked toward Simon.

“I am serious though about taking a day off. I’m tired, and if I think the word ‘carbon tetrachloride’ one more time, I might die,” she explained. She was more aware of her surroundings then before as she was waking up finally. She also became conscious of her appearance. She needed to change. “Thanks for letting me crash on your couch last night…and for making me breakfast,” she said after a few seconds; her voice mellifluous and flowing.

"You utter bastards!" James almost shouted. "You made me think ... made me think ... I still don't know if I believe you, Simon. I know you. A-" Simon raised his eyebrows incredulously and James stopped. "I just didn't think - never mind." He laughed relievedly. "I ..." he stopped, and a smile broke out over his face. "Okay, that was pretty funny," he conceded, and burst out laughing, joining in with the other two.

By the time they had finished, Simon had finished Sun's eggs and poured them onto a plate which he passed to the table and set down in front of her, complete with a fork tucked onto the side of the plate. "What about you, James?" he asked.

"Are you willing to make an omelette?" James asked. He turned to Sun, and, unexpectedly, complimented his friend. "If there was an omelette restaurant, they should make Simon the sous chef. I don't trust anything else he cooks, but the omelettes ... ohh."

"Une omelette? Mais oui, mon ami. C'est pas de problème. But just so you know, one day I'll poison an omelette, just so you won't trust any of my cooking."

"Bastard."

Chris had fallen asleep, albeit uncomfortably, sitting on his desk chair, his head at almost an uncomfortable thirty degree angle, his nose sticking up in the air. A paper towel seemed glued to his face by dried blood as he snored softly. Every now and then he would shudder or wince, occasionally giving off a whine as if some nightmare was haunting him while he slept.

His tantrum had done a deal to him. It messed up his somewhat clean room, ruined a somewhat organized bin of robotic parts, nearly destroyed what was left of COW, and left a large amount of clean and bloodied paper towels on the floor. Not to mention Chris' disheaveled appearance. His blood-stained buttoned shirt was half undone, his spikey hair seemed to lose it's form, and his face covered in dried bits of blood, especially in the lower portions.

Suddenly, Chris sat straight up, cursing loudly as he felt another tantrum settle in. He had been dreaming one of those foul nightmares that seem to make one angrier at another.

Chris looked around his room and swore again, as he stood up slowly, ripped off the paper towel with a slight wince, and stumbled towards the shower. He leaned against the wall and yawned as he turned the shower to a warm temperature and winced again as the water pelted his slightly swollen nose.

"Dang it...this is turning out to be a very bad vacation..." he sighed as he leaned against the wall, letting the warm water collide with his body, the occasional tear mixing in with the water.

“Mmn,” she said, after taking a bite, “Well, I’ll trust anything he cooks.” She said, and suddenly became very quiet while she ate. It was good. She had layered it with a good deal of pepper and some salt. It was just the way she liked it. She was very meticulous in cutting her eggs, consuming the white first and then the two small yellow orbs. They were cooked half way through, with some left in its liquid state. If only she could get them like this every time. “You might have to be careful now, you might just end up seeing me every morning if you keep cooking like this,” she gave him a smile. Well, it was true. The food here wasn’t that great and her last box of cereal was running low. Eggs beat cereal any day. She took a piece of fruit; her choice was a plum. Yes, if he kept having good food, it was more than likely she would be politely knocking on his door and politely asking for him to make her breakfast. That, or falling asleep on his couch again so he wouldn’t’ be able to avoid the morning feast. She knew in her heart, however, she would only be able to knock on that door if he offered. Besides, waking up to breakfast and Simon, well…that was something she could get used to.

Simon wasn’t nearly painful to look at, then again neither was she. She ran her fingertips over the tattoo on her wrist. She had never been searching to be with someone else. She had only been searching for Baralai, and had planned to find him. It had been three years however, and she needed to come to terms with the fact that she might never find him. She observed Simon once more. He probably wasn’t even interested anyway. They had been coworkers for so long she couldn’t expect any more than that, and she didn’t. What about Chris? That man had messed up too badly for much of anything to come from it. She wondered if how much she cared for Chris wouldn’t be obstructed by his childish antics. He had no respect for her, and it showed often. And Steve? Whoa…what was she thinking? She stopped herself. I have been in this place far too long. Fresh air will do me good. She laughed at herself. She really needed to get out, and then all these thoughts would go away.

She snapped back to reality, and stood up with the plum in her hand. “Thanks for breakfast Simon,” she said to him with a pleasant smile. “I’m going to start working on better camouflage. I’ll stop by tonight, if that’s all right, to see if there is anything that needs to be changed in the design and if the makeup compounds are all right. I don’t really trust what this place gives out, so I’m sure there will be a good few modifications I can add.” Of course, Chris would be adding mechanical modifications if he was done sulking. It was his fault he had a broken nose and no one else’s. She had never been more embarrassed in her life, not even now wearing jeans and a t-shirt at 5’4” with no shoes. She then looked at James. “I’m sorry James,” she apologized again. “but it was funny.” She walked into the other room and slipped on her boots, and then opened the door and closing it gently behind her. She walked down the hall, first towards her room. She needed to change. She wouldn’t let Chris see her in jeans and a t-shirt.

http://209.85.48.8/237/117/upload/p698783.png http://209.85.48.8/237/117/upload/p698954.png http://209.85.48.8/237/117/upload/p698955.png
General Jack Valkare - Commander Ramza Gabranth - Colonel William Sharp

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

Commander Ramza Gabranth sat in waiting outside of the General’s ready room. Inside, Colonel Sharp and General Valkare were having yet another meeting. These meetings had become almost daily now, Commander Gabranth noted, and had been growing increasingly long in duration. That being said, Gabranth had little clue why he had been invited, nor why he had been sitting outside of the office for over an hour now.

“You may come in now,” the secretary finally told him, noticeably refraining from calling him “sir.” Gabranth stood, removed his hat, and walked into the room. Both Valkare and Sharp stood as he entered, but none of the three saluted.

“Please take a seat, Commander,” Valkare said, motioning towards the other seat in front of his desk, next to Colonel Sharp.

Sharp looked at Gabranth with disdain. The Commander, as his rank implied, was on loan to them, the Marines, from the Fleet. To Sharp, Gabranth’s pretty-boy appearance, the fact that he was able to command his own vessel, and even his Fleet uniform were nothing short of disgusting. Apparently, Sharp chose to ignore that up until tactical ops, the final lessons at the Academy, the Marines and the Fleet trained together, integrated as one unit. It was, in fact, the Mobile Infantry branch which was the most different.

The ability to command his own vessel, albeit only a small one, at the rank of commander was a right only reserved to the Fleet. Colonel, which was Sharp’s Marine rank, roughly equaled the Fleet rank of Captain, which was one step above Gabranth. However, as a Lieutenant Colonel, Sharp had been unable to command even the smallest ship. Commander Gabranth, who commanded the Sabre-Class Gunship (http://www.geocities.com/theorionsector/sabre.html) ISS Angelic, bore the full front of Sharp’s jealousy.

“You, of course, know of the Vespian situation, do you not?” General Valkare asked. The General cared little about whether Gabranth was Fleet or not; there were more important things in both the military and in life.

“I believe so, sir,” the Commander replied. For over a month now, he and his crew had been sitting in idle space, waiting for the cold war between General Valkare and Emperor Bivens over Vespia to play out. And to think that Zephyr got to travel to Sol…

“And you know of the scientists working on the planet?” Valkare continued.

“Not by name, sir, no,” Gabranth responded. Valkare smiled slightly and stood.

“Colonel Sharp,” the General said. “That will be all.”

“Sir,” the Colonel said indignantly, saluting and leaving. He almost felt insulted for not being allowed to stay, but obviously the General was to be dealing with a personal matter, and not one of military importance.

“Here,” General Valkare said, handing Commander Gabranth a PADD. “This is a list of all scientists working on the project. Gabranth scanned the names, unsure of what the General was getting at. “I believe, Commander, that you have a connection with one of them, do you not?”

“Sir?” Commander Gabranth replied, looking over the names more carefully the second time. His eyes stopped on a specific name and he paused for a moment, reading it over twice more. Quickly, his gaze shifted to the General.

“Don’t worry, Commander,” General Valkare replied. “Your secret is safe with me,” the corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly at how humorously cliché he had been. “However, I was wondering if you could provide some…insight into the character of this…scientist.”

“I don’t believe I could, sir,” Gabranth replied. “It’s been years. I could only tell you childhood memories, which I’m sure you could find in the confidential report.”

“I see,” Valkare nodded. He had predicted this. Reaching out his hand as Gabranth returned the PADD, the General continued. “Commander, would you be opposed to having a…reunion?”

“Sir,” Gabranth replied hastily. “If it were my decision I would be.” Valkare smiled. He had predicted this reaction as well. Unfortunately, for Commander Gabranth, it was not his decision to make.

“Understandable, Commander,” Valkare replied. “However, we all must do things we don’t want to from time to time. Sometimes I do as I please…the rest of the time I do what I must.”

“Yes, sir,” Gabranth said, reluctantly.

“Nevertheless,” Valkare concluded. “I hope it will not come to that and we can avoid this situation all together.” The General stood, and the Commander soon followed. “You are dismissed, Commander.”

Gabranth saluted, and quickly walked out of the General’s office, wishing more than ever to be at Sol with Sky Marshall Zephyr and the 52nd Fleet, or at Steel Butterfly with Sky Marshall Adrikov and the 81st. Anywhere but here.

Freshly showered, Steven dressed himself in his typical khaki’s, shiny brown boots, colored dress shirt, and white lab overcoat. He contemplated merely wearing his glasses, but he instead chose to take the time to put his contacts back in. As he stepped out of his room, he realized that he had made a good choice.

There, walking in the hallway, was Sun. She was looking somewhat different than usual, far more relaxed, but Steven only barely noticed, his eyes concentrated on hers. She looked tired, as if she had just woken up not long ego.

“Long night?” Steven, his hair still wet and smelling of fresh cologne, asked her with a smile.

Sun froze as she saw Steven in the hall way. He looked good, smelt good. Oh, she wanted to just go hide in a corner. “H-hey…” she said with a pleasant smile, walking towards him, but wanting to hide. “I just worked really late and ended up falling asleep,” she said a bit more cheerfully. She eyed him carefully, as if not wanting him to notice. He just looked, well, great. She looked good, except she didn’t consider the white t-shirt or her jeans. She pushed her auburn hair over her shoulder. She fought the urge to comment on appearance. It would have been a good comment but she didn’t know just what she would have said. She was, for the second time that day, embarrassed at her casual garb and caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Um…I’m going to my room to change and get back to the lab…I’ll walk with you if you can spare five minutes or so.”

Steven pondered where, exactly, she had fallen asleep, wondering if she had, in fact, slept in the lab. I hope Jim was good company… He chuckled to himself.

“I suppose I could make the time,” he joked, his smile ever-present. She always seemed to put him in a good mood, especially as of late, when their interaction had become more than him looking at her from a distance. “Any new ideas on those compounds?” Steven said, making small talk as they began the short trek to her door. His mind was still on George and Marissa, and the hidden rift growing between them all.

Suspicion was addictive, and he knew its cure no more than he knew what made these Vespians invisible to scanners.

“You know what,” she said with a bit of a laugh. “The only work I did yesterday after you left was making some eye drops for Simon. After that, I was worn out.” She said, opening the door to her living quarters and beckoning him inside. Everything was excessively neat, of course save the various test tubes and lab equipment sprawled out on what would have been a dining table. “Make yourself at home,” she told him before stalking off to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, of course. She stripped away her dark jeans and shirt and rummaged through her drawers for something far less comfortable but more professional. She pulled on a black pencil skirt that had black buttons going up the front all the way to the waistband. Chris kept asking her if they unsnapped. Wouldn’t he like to know. She pulled on a sleeveless royal blue shirt which cinched in the middle drawing attraction to her slim waist, but more so her eyes, for the two matched. She slipped on a pair of black heels, open toed with a stiletto heel. She really didn’t need to wear nylons, for her skin was smooth and a pedicure saved her from what she viewed to be unneeded see-through fabric. She brushed her hair and tied it up in a long pony tail, though long side bangs framed her face. She slipped in a pair of diamond studded earrings, and then a third in the top cartilage piercing on her right ear. They had been gifts from Demitri.

She checked her phone at the seventeen missed calls, sixteen of which were from Demitri. She threw her phone back down on the bed, and opened the door, walking into the living room where Steven had made himself comfortable on the couch. It seemed like his scent had drifted through the entire room. She almost didn’t want to leave. “Shall we?”

Back in the lab, George was horrified, but he didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching, waiting.

“What are you doing?” George finally asked, his voice accusing. He approached Marissa, who was seated at her console.

“George?” she asked, annoyed. “Don’t you have someone else to…”

“You’re deleting things,” George continued.

“George, I’m deleting the accounts of the fuck-ups,” Marissa replied. “Both yours and Steven’s. You don’t want an Imperial Temporal Audit, do you?”

“Now you are,” George said. “But I’ve been standing here for a while. You were deleting messages before?”

“You spied on me as I deleted my inbox?” Marissa asked, angrily. “Every time I think you can’t get more pathetic…”

“I read them,” George announced. “I read who you were talking to. Imperial Governmental Relay #1001. I know what you’re up to.”

“You read my mail?!” Marissa screamed, standing to face him. “For what reason?! What were you looking for, George?! What motivation did you have?! Who the hell do you think IGR #1001 is?”

“You’re doing something to Jim,” George said, pointing at the unconscious Vespian. “You’re doing something you’re not supposed to. You’re doing something that the others don’t know about.” Marissa paused, unsure of exactly what he was talking about, and not wanting to give him any ammunition.

“And what am I doing, George?” Marissa yelled back. “Huh? Tell me what I’m doing to Jim! Tell me what you read! Go on…say it!”

“It…” George stumbled. “It didn’t say exactly, but…”

“No,” Marissa said, rounding on him. “You have no right spying into my personal messages and you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re harming him,” George continued, picking up where he had left off. “Hurting him, maybe.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Marissa asked.

“I don’t know,” George replied. He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’m not going to let you.” Marissa glared at him, her mouth curling into a snarl, her face red with anger.

“Steven!” she screamed over the comm.

In the meantime, Steven had stood to walk to the lab with Sun, but upon hearing Marissa’s scream, he quickly ran instead. Within seconds, Steven darted through the doors into the lab, his hair still wet from the shower. His face dropped as he saw Marissa angry, and George talking to her.

“Get him out of here now!" she screamed. "I’m restricting him to his room permanently. He no longer has access to my goddamn lab!”

“Come with me,” Steven ordered, grabbing George by the arm. They were similar in size and strength, although Steven’s youth gave him the advantage. George had decided that yelling would be better than fighting anyhow.

“You can’t lie forever, you bitch!” He screamed as Steven led him away, though the halls, and into his room, flashing Sun apologetic eyes on his way.

“What did I tell you?” Steven asked, shutting George’s door and pushing George up against the wall. “What did I fucking tell you?!”

“She was deleting everything,” George protested. “Jim leaves tomorrow…tomorrow she’s going to do whatever it is that she’s doing…”

“I told you to fucking drop it!” Steven roared. “I asked her about being afraid of being discovered, without mentioning the message…and do you know what she said? Tell me what she fucking said!”

”If she said ‘yes’ then she’s lying to you too,” George said, pushing Steven off of him.

“She wouldn’t lie to me!” Steven replied.

“You lied to her!” George shot back. Steven took a step back; George was right. “You lied to her about the same goddamn topic! There are so many lies here that no one can figure out what the hell the truth is! She’s going to do something to Jim tomorrow…something bad…or something illegal…and the lot of you are just going to let her!”

“She’s not even taking him back,” Steven said, his voice much lower now. He was deep in thought. “I am.”

“Then you may be in as much danger as Jim is,” George said, shaking his head. No, Steven thought. Marissa wouldn’t hurt me…but Jim? Steven wasn’t sure. What is Marissa thinking? What is she planning? …What is she hiding?

“I want you to listen to her,” Steven said at last. “I want you to stay in here.” George began to protest but Steven put up his hand to silence him. “I need you away from her. I need the keep the others from knowing any more than they already do, thank to your mouth. If what she is doing is with the Empire, then even if it is wrong” He cringed, not wanting to accuse her. “There’s a good chance that if we get involved, she will end up ‘right.’ That doesn’t bode well for us.” George nodded in agreement.

“Then what are you going to do about her while I’m in here?” George asked, sitting down on his bed. Steven stopped, just as he was about to open the door, and turned to face George once more.

“I’m a scientist, George,” Steven said, his face bleak, his expression serious. “I’m going to observe and analyze.”

She ran after Steven, and Sun was stunned at what unfolded before her. Steven took George away and she caught his eyes for a moment before looking at Marissa. She instantly averted her eyes, and walked over to where Jim was behind held. She took a syringe. Once she had seen it done, and the fact that apparently tomorrow the specimen was leaving, Sun was going to work her ass off and get every bit of information she needed. She took the syringe and injected it into his vertebrae. This time she pulled out a good few mL of the CSF and placed the vial aside. She also took a good amount of blood from one of the veins in his arm. Her skill with the vein was apparent when it hardly left any marks what so ever. Some people were scarred that way. She wanted results and she wanted them now. She knew that she had agreed with Simon that it should be a day off, regardless of the joke or otherwise, however she wanted to find out more. She had to find it out; or she wasn’t a chemist worthy of being on this team. She saw people who did nothing for days but still felt that if she didn’t finish it, if she didn’t solve the puzzle, then she shouldn’t be here. Sun, take a day off? It will never happen.

She then cursed underneath her breath. She had to check on Chris. She sighted. She stood up and took her samples with her. She was going to use her own equipment. She exited the lab with her heels clicking on the ground. She made her way toward the living quarters and banged on Chris’ door. When he didn’t answer, she entered the code, and the door unlocked. He had given it to her a while ago, perhaps expecting to see her walk in one night. “Chris…” she called out, and set her things done on the table.

Chris suddenly perked up as he heard a familiar voice calling out for him. He mumbled something under his breath and shook his head. He didn't want to see anyone at the moment, especially not the person who helped put him in the mood he was in. But he did want to see her, very much. Despite her constant attempts at ruining his mood or degrading him...not to mention her seeming to warm up quite well with every other man she meets. Perhaps she just uses him. Certainly what it seems like...

He tired of his waiting game, not wanting his fantasy lover to leave him alone, he dried himself off, and frowned as he realized he had not brought a change of clothes with him, considering he had not expected Sun to arrive now.

Chris opened the door and frowned at Sun. "Only a few hours late, huh?" he asked blandly as he looked across the room to his dresser. "What do you want to sucker me into now? Or do you want another good smash at my face? Not like my nose swelled enough."

“I fell asleep, I’m sorry. I’m starting to have nightmares again,” she said. Great…she had just given him more ammo to make fun of her. “And if you hadn’t been using COW to take pictures of me you wouldn’t have even had a broken nose to begin with. It’s your own damn fault,” she snapped, then turned his head to take a look at the damage. The bones were still in place, which was good. She headed over to the medical cabinet and got out some gauze, medical tape, and a metal splint. She wrapped the splint with gauze and put it over his nose. It would keep making sure everything stayed in place. She should have done it earlier but she had been too upset. She used tape to keep it in place. He looked like he had just gotten a nose job. She put the supplies away. Screw the modifications on the camouflage. They would do just fine without him. Chris didn’t really seem to get how badly what he did had hurt her. He didn’t realize what her dignity meant to her. It pissed her off that he would take something so lightly.

It was then that she started to cry, half in frustration, half because of what he had done. She turned away from Chris and walked away from him, walking into his bedroom and closing the door behind her. She crawled up on the bed, despite the fact that she was wearing a skirt, and she cried, for the second time in her life. The one person she could have always depended on was the one person who had betrayed her.

"Wait, Sun-" Chris began before she ran off to his own room. "Blast it!" he growled, banging against his wall in anger. He cursed again and shook his head. He didn't want to lose her for good. True, what he did was rather rude...but it's not like she never did anything to him before.

Still naked, with only a towel covering his lower half, knocked on his door and slowly opened it without waiting for an answer. To his side was his dresser, what he needed to get clothed. And across from him, his love.
"Look Sun... I'm..." When he looked at her, his face immediately fell. He had never seen her cry before. "Sun.."

He walked up to the bundle in his bed and sat at the edge, feeling awkward not just because of the stupid splints and gauze on his face, but he had to make sure his towel didn't slide off.

"Sun...I'm...sorry...I have done you wrong...I shouldn't have done it. It's just...all these years I've had pent up anger. I felt like I was no one to you. I felt like I was your meat shield or something. If you got frustrated...you would take it out on me. Sun...please..." Chris said softly, wishing he had never said what he did. And hoping that some good will come out of this.

“You were everything to me,” she blurted out, and immediately regretted it. She turned away from him so that he couldn’t see her face; so he couldn’t see the tears on her cheeks. She regretted that Baralai ever taught her to cry. It was so weak; so damn weak. She shouldn’t have. “Back in college you were the only person who didn’t avoid me simply because of my grades. I was alienated back then just because I worked hard. You were my only friend; you were the only one not trying to be my friend for grades or make fun of my work ethics. My nineteen year old self fell in love with you, Chris. I’m twenty five right now, but you’re still nineteen. You can never just grow up; you can never be mature and carry on a decent conversation with me without making one of your jokes. You don’t realize those can hurt. You’ve never realized it. And now I’m trying to make differences in the world; I’m trying my hardest to just to discover something new. Life is too short just to let it slip by playing Tetris…” She turned to look at him, her eyes less red then they have been. “And all this time you have been playing games while I have been working; only helping me out when I ask you to, and never offering yourself. You can’t be bothered. Heaven forbid it should ruin your perfect score,” she stood up and walked towards the doorway.

“I’m sorry Chris, but I’m not nineteen anymore, and I can’t play Tetris with you,” she managed stifling what emotions had risen up inside of her. “You’ll never change Chris. I’ve waited all these years, even dated Demitri so that maybe you would sharpen up, but you didn’t.”

"What? Sun...You never told me thanks, you never showed how much you appreciated me...I did try to carry on conversations...but you always left me for some reason or other. Or going off with Demitri...just like these days..."

"Sun...you were my everything as well. I loved you beyond any other. I always wanted to be next to you. And-And...I don't spend my time playing Tetris! I was working on COW, working out his AI with what little I was provided. I didn't play games...I improved our supplies. Sun, you seemed to distance yourself from me, especially when I tried to talk to you..."

As his love was making her way to the door, his mind raced. He needed to get her back, in any way he could. And finally came upon a decision, not knowing if he would regret it or not.

He walked over to her with much haste, pulling up his towel so it wouldn't fall in his menuever. He walked up in front of her and placed his hands around her. "Sun, you haven't aged one bit...you still look as beautiful as you did then. And I still love you with all my heart."

With that, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers, making sure he didn't overstep his boundaries with his hands. He had already risked enough. His kiss was passionate, as if he had saved that kiss for as long as he had his anger. If he felt her try to move away, he would let her. This was his last ditch effort to recover what he had lost of their long relationship, with the hopes of perhaps furthering it.

He slowly pulled away, his eyes not meeting hers. "I'm sorry Sun. I never knew. Perhaps I am not the most mature...but I have loved you, still love you, and always will love you," he said quietly, his eyes slowly ascending to meet hers. "You are the light of my world."

For the second time that day, Sun was stunned. She froze, not knowing what to do. She had dated Demitri; but it had rather been a professional relationship. When Demitri had gotten close, she had pushed him away. She pulled away from Chris, not knowing exactly what to do or say. He had never said any of this to her. She thought that all along he had simply been trying to get into her pants. Maybe he still was, maybe not. If he was serious, what then? If he really did love her, why did he take those pictures? Why did he make her feel this way? This was supposed to be a scientific enlightenment, without this drama. She wasn’t supposed to have to choose between a memory and her best friend. Suddenly, she found it hard to breath. “Chris…” she searched for words, but couldn’t find them. “I can’t do this right now,” she said suddenly. “The kiss was great but…I wanted, I wanted it to be different. I wanted my first kiss to be different.” She took a deep breath and looked directly at Chris. “I will always care for you Chris,” she touched the tattoo on her wrist without even realizing it; gripping it as her crutch. “You know all the right things to say now, but it’s just a little too late.” She wanted to run away from all of this; mixed emotions. She wanted to do chemistry. She worked best when she was emotionally distressed. It drove her.

“I want you to be my best friend Chris. I want it to go back to the way it was when we were still in college. If you would have said that then and there this would have been different. I’m….I’m sorry I have to go.” She said, turned from him. She wasn’t in a happy mood and assumed he wouldn’t be either. She couldn’t really grasp what had just happened. She couldn’t believe it really. All the time she couldn’t’ discern if he truly meant it or not. She was here to work; not to settle things with Chris. He was a good guy really, despite the jokes. But it didn’t feel right right now. It had been three years since she had… She sighed softly. Back to the carbon tetra chloride for support. She walked into the lab and sat down at her lab desk and began typing up a storm.

Simon stepped out of his room, whistling under his breath. He'd dressed himself again, this time more properly, in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves pulled up, though he retained the jeans he'd been wearing before. he wasn't going out that day, preferring to spend it poring over the data he and James had already collected. James had returned to his room, had pulled some sentimental bullshit about his heart hurting and had immediately called his girlfriend. A part of Simon deep down in his mind knew that it was sweet, and could see why such an attractive woman had fallen head-over-heels in love with James. Consciously, he found it somewhat mystifying. The picture on James' wall, that he stared at so often, was of a very attractive woman and a toddler boy, grinning happily at something to the left of the camera's perspective. The picture didn't do her justice. Simon had never really considered hitting on her. He consciously knew she would reject him and probably tell James, and that would be the end of a good friendship and working partnership. He knew James was worried she would fall for him, though. They had known each other long enough for James to know how people reacted to Simon. It mystified him just as much as James' girlfriend mystified Simon.

He wandered towards the lab, figuring he would work better in a public environment. Reaching the lab, though, the tension in the air hung like a thick soup, and he pondered returning and talking to James about it. Something big had happened, and the anger and other mixed emotions on almost everyone's mind, he could sense, was screwing with whatever was going on.

As he stepped into the larger lab, he could see Marissa working on something, apparently furious. Steven seemed preoccupied, glancing up and around the room occasionally. Simon noticed his looks lingering on Marissa a little longer than anyone else. Sun was at her workstation, her fingers flying. That was all he could see. The other assorted cast members were flung to the winds, probably in their private rooms. He didn't know any of them very well. Most he knew by name after two months, but he didn't know anything about them. The only one in the room he would feel comfortable talking to was Sun, and twelve hours ago he wouldn't have been comfortable even with that, though he considered himself an expert at hiding discomfort when dealing with social situations. Still, he didn't want to deal with Steven or Marissa, and there was no one else around. He didn't feel like working yet, so he made a beeline for Sun's workstation, thinking about just what was hanging over everyone's head, though, given the pack of melodramatic scientists they had managed to assemble, there could well have been half a dozen different issues bothering different people.

Sun was startled by Simon approaching her. Her eyes still held a light tint of redness even though the emotion had been buried in her equations. She couldn’t manage to smile. She didn’t know what she would do. “Sorry for leaving so early this morning,” she said, pausing in her typing momentarily. “I had to check on Chris’ broken nose and make sure there weren’t any bones sticking out of the skin,” she explained then sighed softly. She took a small vile of blood and prepared a slide for a drop of it and inserted it into the computer’s microscope. It was apparent that something had happened, something big. She wasn’t happy about it, or was perhaps depressed? It didn’t suit her any how. It wasn’t Chris’ fault, well, partially, but not entirely. The ‘not being able to find out what those compounds were’ also played into the ‘I am going to work until I can no longer type’ mode.

“What time do you plan on going tonight?” She asked him, trying to resume her normal demeanor but failing miserable. She managed a half smile.

He turned to face her, resting himself lightly against her desk beside her, so he could look down into her eyes without the awkwardness of a standing-sitting conversation, so close to each other. "Tonight? I don't know. I'm not even sure if I'm going out tonight, given our 'day of relaxation' plan and, well, I don't want anything to happen here without me being able to help stop it before it gets out of hand. I'm sure you can feel it, there's so much tension in the air. It's making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up." He was speaking quietly, making sure no one else in the room could hear him. "I think something big's happened..." his voice slowed and stopped, as he looked at Sun. He had noticed her reaction, her expression when she had mentioned Chris, and how she seemed not to be in the same cheerful mood she had been in that morning. She had smiled for real then. Now, her face when he discussed the tension, the feeling in the air - he knew instantly.

"Did something happen?" he asked, suddenly slightly worried and more than a little bit anxious, though - to him at least - he managed to conceal it. He made a quick mental check; she said she had gone to Chris' room and hadn't mentioned anything else. Chris and then the lab, as far as he could tell. So unless she was responsible for the tension between Steven and Marissa somehow, which he doubted, there was only really one obvious conclusion to draw. The thoughts flashed through his head instantaneously, and he resumed speaking with only the slightest of pauses. "With Chris?"

“Are you sure we can’t get out of here tonight?” she responded, her azure eyes for the first time avoiding his. “I think I just don’t want to be here tonight. I think that getting out of here would do me some good,” she said in a hushed tone. She didn’t want to talk anymore on the subject and had directed it away from Chris. She still had no idea what to think. He said he loved her, but was it a trick? He was always making jokes. If he was serious, well, another talk was unavoidable, but right now she just wanted to avoid it. Oh she just wanted to stop thinking about it. She ran her fingertips over the tattoo on her wrist; a tell tale sign that something was bothering her. She had to sort out her own feelings. Working on this project, out of this place that she’d been cooped up in for two months, yes, that would take her mind off things.

“I’ll have the compounds done by tonight…” she paused for a moment, and then finally looked up at him. “Please.”

He nodded, slightly glum, and reminded himself to ask James to go ask Chris if anything was wrong. James knew Chris much better than he did. He knew them all better than Simon did, being a much more personable fellow than his larger counterpart. "Yeah, okay, we'll go tonight," he said quietly. Secretly, he was happier. He didn't want to be inside with the tension in the air. Hopefully if he left and came back it would be gone, and they could continue as before, though admittedly with several minor differences. "Maybe I'll make us some dinner before we go," he said with a forced smile, trying to cheer her up. He wondered if she was anxious to get back to work, if he should leave. "Do you ... want me to go?" he asked hesitantly.

Please say no...

“Yes, no…I mean,” that managed a smile out of her. “Dinner sounds good. It might be bad through for the long term for if I get spoiled by your cooking I will be bothering you at least twice a day for the rest of my time here. You don’t have to go, in fact I can continue making this compound with the equipment in my room. It is almost finished with what I got done last night but I need to test it. I’m sure it will be fine but I have to make sure it won’t react to your skin,” she said. Talking about chemistry and her creations made her feel a lot better. Still, she had this sinking feeling within her. “You could try on that suit there, as I grabbed two on the way back. Considering that no machina additions are applicable,” she whispered, considering she didn’t think Chris would be helping her out any time soon, even if she felt she did nothing wrong. She shouldn’t have told him how she felt. She should have kept it to herself.

“Then, dinner, then we can leave. Sound good?”

He nodded and smiled happily. "Sounds great," he said, quite truthfully. Her being sad had been making him sad by proxy, and he was happy she seemed to have been thrown out of it. He felt a certain empathy with her at that moment, moreso than with other people, though he couldn't quite explain it and passed it off as their being together when beset on all sides by unhappy or unusually emotional people. "I'll stop by my room and get some food. What do you want to eat? I've got enough stuff that if you just mention something I should be able to get an approximation of it. Unless it's something super-fancy, like Peking duck, or high-class liquor, or anything of the sort. Besides that ..." he smiled. "Just let me know. And then I'll show you what it's like outside this place."

She stood up and walked down the hall towards the living quarters with Simon. “Anything really. Surprise me. You forget, I’ve been eating their food for all too long.” She punched in the numbers to her door, and then changed the code. She entered and left the door partially ajar for Simon to come back. Meanwhile she sat down at her dining room table and took out black glue-like substance. She meticulously began adding other chemicals, and from time to time stirred it with a glass stirring rod. Making such a thing wasn’t that difficult, but it was time consuming.

Everything about her apartment was neat. There was neither a towel nor a pan out of place. It was as if nothing had been used. The bedroom door was closed, so one wouldn’t be sure if she kept everything this neat, or if everything was just shoved in her bedroom. The two suits were hanging over the edge of the couch, one clearly meant for him. She made a good few modifications to hers, but nothing mechanical really. She really couldn’t deal with any type of machina like Chris could. Even though she needed his help with that she wouldn’t ask him. She would have to make do without a comm. Sphere.

He was back in only a few minutes with a plastic bag containing food and cooking implements, closing the door quietly after he entered. Finding his way to the kitchen easily - all the living units were small and nearly all multi-room ones were the same or virtually the same layout - he unpacked the food, whistling quietly, and began going to work zesting lemons and putting the zest into a bowl, and cutting prosciutto. The pasta would come later, as would the small amount of sauce.

he tried his best not to bother her, though with no door between the rooms they were in it would probably be unavoidable. The food as it cooked made tantalizing smells waft out of the kitchen, and he knew she could smell them. Smiling slightly at the thought, he carried on, putting water on to boil on the stove's large burner and using the other to cook the meat once it was ready, all the while whistling quietly to himself. The smells made him hungry as well, and he was glad it would not take long before it was ready; the meal did not take long to cook, and he was grateful for that fact as it had been several hours since breakfast.

The smell made her mouth water. She silently wished that she was a good cook. She took some of the goop in her hands. It was finally done. She walked into the kitchen as he had his back to her and slipped her hands around him and to his cheeks smearing the black goo on either side of his face. As he turned around she laughed, then backed away, not wanting to get any of it on herself. “Looks good on you,” she said with a smile and a thumbs up. She couldn’t help but to laugh. She didn’t know why she felt so comfortable with him. She turned her back and whistled, slinking back to her desk and wiping off the excess goo.

She couldn't help but to think about what had gone on that day; about Jim, about Chris, and about pasta.

He left the goop on his face while he kept cooking. It still felt like she had smeared grease on his face, but it felt much cooler and lighter than the heavy and thick camouflage paint he'd been wearing before, and he assumed his eyes would not be bloodshot and in pain within thirty minutes. Absentmindedly, he scooped a piece of pasta out of the boiling water, blew on it, and ate it thoughtfully. Judging it to be cooked enough, he set the water to drain out, put the finishing touches onto the meat and the sauce, and poured the pasta into a bowl, stirring the sauce and meat in with it, before leaving it there, steaming softly, and crept up behind her in the other room. Taking some of the goop from his face on his fingertips, he reached around her head and smeared it onto her cheeks as she had done to him. Laughing as she turned, he backed away slightly. "Dinner is ready, madam," he said, a slight tone of playful jest making its way into his voice.

She didn’t turn around right away, but her muscles tensed luckily, he didn’t have the bowl of food in her hand as she took more of the black goo and smeared it on his forehead and his left cheek with laughter. At least it felt good, and it moisturized your skin. She darted from his grasp, nearly falling because of her heels before taking them off. Since it was her own home she didn’t leave them at the doorway. She was about two inches shorter; back to her original height. “Okay…truce until after dinner?” She extended her hand. “Deal?”

He laughed and took her hand, shaking it firmly. "Deal."


*


It had been good food. Despite his outward appearance, Simon was a remarkably good cook - a trait with a story behind it, as with most things. Now, however, he was making sure the deactivated camouflage suit was in working order, its hood down around his neck, and he was crouched, just finishing lacing up his 'work boots'. Standing up straight, he looked across to his opposite and his partner in a field mission, for the first time in two months. The black goop was still smeared across his cheeks, and he could see across hers as well. Regardless they would both need more. He gestured to it, his eyes not leaving hers. "You first, or me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

Once again, George was alone. This time, however, he didn’t revel in it. He didn’t accept it. For the first time in his seemingly meaningless life, George had a purpose. The problem was, he was all but locked in a room.

After all, his money, the only thing that he was good for, was not even his own. No, it was a payoff his parents gave him posthumously, giving him an adulthood of wealth as compensation for a childhood without them. George neither resented his parents for their neglect, nor railed against himself for a lifestyle devoid of worth, but for once, he had goal, a plan, a reason not only to come along on this mission but to be alive.

There was no doubt in his mind what needed to be done. Jim had thought it over before, pondered it over the last few days, but never really considered accepting the repercussions until now. Him doing anything with Jim would undoubtedly break the Temporal Directive, however Marissa was going to harm Jim, and surely that would break it more. By stopping Marissa, he would be helping the Vespians, Jim specifically, and wasn’t that the reason for the Temporal Directive in the first place? Wasn’t it made to prevent harm to more primitive cultures?

It was now much later in the day, and George had been in his room for hours on end. He was growing restless, having run out of things to keep him busy long ago, and growing nervous as well, trying to formulate his plan for the night. The sound of his clock striking midnight made him jump; that was the time he had chosen to enact his plan.

The lab would undoubtedly be empty at that point, and if not, George had prepared somewhat of a indignant speech to give about owning the lab and deciding when or when not to keep it open. Them threatening to send him home meant little at this point; he anticipated sitting in an Imperial court in no more than a few days, Marissa seated across the room. Dressed in casual clothes, he stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind him. George began a brisk walk to the lab, keeping his head down the entire way.

Marissa had left some time ago, and George found the lab empty as he had hoped. There was a sole light on in the lab, emanating from the top of the glass cylinder, and it cast Jim in an almost surreal light. George cautiously approached the glass, staring at the entire contraption momentarily before pressing up against it with his hands and gazing in.

Jim was alone, secluded from his peers, and just as George had been instilled with a new sense of purpose, George fathomed that Jim too was missing out on a similar personal discovery. Far more basic than that, Jim was locked in a cage, and unlike animals in a zoo who frolicked about in habitats similar to their own, Jim was unaware that he was anywhere other than in his bed, sleeping.

George frowned, genuinely feeling miserable for the man in the glass cage. Time past slowly as George looked through the glass, envisioning himself alone on the table, unconscious and unaware. The thought frightened George immensely, and George was sure it would frighten Jim as well. Still, George rationalized, Jim deserved the right to be frightened. Jim deserved the right to know what was happening, to be in control of his own destiny.

George closed his eyes, thinking his plan over for what would be the final time. Jim reminded in his sight, even with his eyes closed. George squeezed his eyelids harder, trying to clear his mind, but he was driven by emotion and now was no time to falter, nor resort to rational thought.

Repeating his administrative password over and over again his head, George turned towards the controls to the glass cylinder. Quickly entering the number and letter combination into the console, George turned to see the glass lower before him. He looked behind him one last time, and he was still all alone. Not for long…

He approached Jim cautiously, remembering what he had learned from Steven the previous day. Jim’s IV, which kept him both alive and asleep, was stuck into his armpit. Reaching down, George pulled it out.

George’s entire body tensed up for what seemed like hours. His mind picked up speed, unsure of what was to follow. Would he die? Would he jump up instantly? There was no way to be sure, without lifesigns it was too unpredictable for the untrained eye, however Jim’s breathing never ceased, and George could reason well enough to understand that was a good sign.

And then, as if he was witnessing the birth of a god, George stared in awe as Jim’s eyes opened, flickered, and stared straight up at the cylinder light. Jim flexed his hands and his feet, reassuring himself that he was alive, and then caught sight of the man who had freed him from his sleep. To Jim, however, he had never been imprisoned, and he had woken up in a room that was not his own, next to a man he had never seen.

George noticed none of this fear and uncertainty, for he was now more relaxed than he could ever remember. If he could wake Jim up, then certainly he could get him to walk out a door. Jim looked around, his heart racing. Where am I? he thought, frightened, the emotion George had allowed him to feel.

“You…” George managed to spit out, his eyes drowned in wonder. “You’re free…”

But to Jim, he was not free, and his fear was quickly turning into anger, his acute sense of survival kicking in. As George stared on mindlessly, marveling at what he had done, Jim scanned the room, finding the IV cord hung near by.

With the reflexes of a man honed by years of hunting, Jim took the IV in his hand, and with one swing, impaled the needle into George’s neck. George’s eyes grew wide as the metal pierced his throat, the medicine swiftly rushing into his veins. Jim stood, and as fast as he could, wrapped the cord around George’s neck, pulling as tightly. George grabbed for Jim’s arms, flailing his legs wildly, but it was to no avail. As George’s eyes rolled back in his head, Jim sprinted around the lab, finding the door, and rushing out without shutting it behind him.

George’s body slumped against the table in the center of the cylinder, his face a deep shade of purple. Blood from his neck slowly ran down his neck onto his shirt. It was a needlessly unfortunate ending for a needlessly unfortunate man, and while shocked in his final moments, George was not sad. For the first time in his life, he had done something. For the first time in his life, he had lived. The irony of dying in his one true moment of life, of course, was lost on George.

Marissa stirred in her bed, unable to sleep. Tonight’s the night, she told herself, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling. The thought of what she was about to do made her sick to her stomach for multiple reasons.

The worst of those was the fact that George, of all people, had called her out on it. Alas, he was dead wrong in what he suspected, but he suspected something none the less. Marissa assumed it was her fault. She had been trying to save herself, to get out of what tonight entailed, but it hadn’t worked. George was too dim to understand without her spelling it out, and she had been far too proud to sink any lower than she already had.

Dressed in casual clothes, she inched out of her room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Marissa turned towards to the lab and began walking, keeping her head down the entire way and unknowingly mimicking George’s every move.

The sight that befell upon her struck her at her core and she froze in the doorway, staring ahead with tearing eyes. She tried to scream but couldn’t. She tried to run but couldn’t. She could do nothing but stand there, immobilized, as the horror slumped against the medical table sunk into her consciousness.

“Oh…my…” Marissa said, her trembling voice nothing more than a whisper. George lay on the floor, bloodied and dead, and the scene was clear. He had let Jim out, most likely in an attempt to circumvent the plans he believed her to have, and Jim had killed him. The question of “why?” hardly registered with Marissa at this point, nor did the implications which the scene held in regards to the Temporal Directive mean anything to her any more. George was dead, slouched before her.

As the air quickly rushed back into her lungs, she let out a deafening scream that echoed through the lab and the living halls alike, before placing her shaking hands over her mouth, her eyes unable to stray.

Steven sat up instantly. He too had been unable to sleep, gradually fearing the worst for tomorrow, and the scream which he heard even through the reinforced walls raised the hair on the back of his neck. He quickly put on pants, and for the second time today, Steven ran to the lab.

“Oh my god, my god,” escaped from Steven’s quivering lips upon arrival. He took a step back, running into the wall. Marissa was hysteric. “How…” Steven asked. His voice was faint, his body weak. “How could this happen?”

“He’s dead!” Marissa wailed, putting her arms around him for protection from the grisly sight. Steven, in contrast, was now the one entranced by the death before them. Marissa dug her face into his chest. “We’re ruined, Steven! Ruined!”

Steven pressed his palms into his eyes, biting down on his teeth hard and trying to grasp the situation. George was dead, murdered by Jim who had tried to let him escape. Steven could feel his body almost shaking. Now Jim was free, knowing that he had been captured, and knowing where they were.

“I…” Steven muttered, his head shaking. “I tried to tell him…I tried to stop him…”

“They’ll throw us out!” Marissa cried. “They’ll throw us in fucking jail!”

It was then that Steven’s horror quickly changed to fear. George didn’t seem to matter as much, now that his own life was easily at risk as well. If they reported what had happened, the mission would be ended immediately, but if they managed to hide it for a few days, the Empire would still find out, and their punishment would be exponentially more severe.

Steven blinked, his eyes beginning to swell with tears. Surely, other would soon be arriving, giving the volume of Marissa’s scream. Tears began to fall from his eyes as his face twisted with grief. He had seen this before, and knew this situation far to well.

She zipped up the front of her suit; which surprisingly fit her well. She sighed softly. She had tied her hair back. “You,” she said without hesitation. “If this stuff does something it’s happening to you first,” she laughed. She was joking. “I would love to have it do something other than moisturize your skin.” She took the small container of it, and spread it gently over his cheeks, nose, forehead and chin, lingering for a moment in his eyes. She handed it to him, and smiled. “Be gentle…” she whispered, and managed to keep a straight face.

Her words reminded him of the joke they had played on james earlier in the day, and he grinned and laughed lightly as he took some of the black goop in his hands and began to skillfully apply it to her face. He was half finished, reaching for more, when a female scream rang through the cave. His head snapped up, and his face revealed a quizzical look for a moment before he looked straight at her. "I guess it'll have to wait," he said sadly, dropping his hands to his sides. He was all set to rush out the door, but didn't want to run out on her either. He was torn.


*


James was happy, a smile on his face and a song in his head, as he buzzed at Chris' door. he had just finished an hour-long conversation with his girlfriend, and at times their son, and he was floating on a cloud. Deciding to use his good mood to cheer on others, he had decided that his friend Chris could probably use it the most; he had been publicly scolded by his best friend and had his nose broken to boot. He hit the buzzer again, and spoke into it. "Chris? This is James. Can I come in?"

Sun heard the scream too, and bolted toward the door, opening it and walking into the corridor, heading towards the direction of the scream in a full out run with Simon behind her. She was a small little thing but she could run. “What the hell happened,” she said under her breath and took off the hood of her suit and let her hair flow freely behind her. It gave her better peripheral vision and she hated restricting clothes.

Jim was confused. He had run from the dead man, but now found himself the subject of an increasingly tense situation. He was crouched behind something metallic, in the shadows, and he could hear running footsteps. His head darted around, looking for something to use as a weapon, while his mind ran. He had nowhere to go, he didn't know where he was, he was lost and confused. Crouched there, trying to figure out what to do, he suddenly heard a triumphant shout, and looked up to see a man slightly taller than he was towering over him, dressed in some strange silver clothes that shone and reflected light in strange directions. his face was painted black, and his face was not even trying to mask his fury. Thinking the man would surely kill him as the black man had been trying to do, Jim threw himself at the man's legs like an animal released from a cage.

He jumped back out of the way, but Jim was quick on his feet, adrenaline and panic driving his limbs to faster than usual action. The man was not quite through reacting from his leap to avoid Jim's diving tackle, and Jim met him with a powerful punch across the jaw, his strength born of desperation more than muscular ability. The man reeled and grunted in pain but quickly reacted by slamming his fist into Jim's face, his eyes blazing with anger, connecting with Jim's cheekbone. It hurt, a lot. Jim reeled backwards even as the other man shook his hand out, gritting his teeth against the pain from splitting his knuckle open against Jim's cheek. Before Jim could react the man had hit him in the chest, hard, and as he staggered backwards his back smashed against a wall. He bounced off and away from the man, and took off running, throwing things behind him and tipping over anything in his path to try and slow the man up. He heard a loud clattering sound and another shout, again in the strange language he could not understand. The man had fallen, but he could hear him getting up as Jim rounded a corner. A door was at the end, and he threw himself against it, but it did not budge, though it made a hissing sound. He pounded it with his balled fist, but it still would not move, and he settled for ducking into a corner with a box marked with strange lettering.

The man was back faster than he thought, looking around and all-but growling with rage. He didn't seem to notice Jim, who ducked against the wall out of sight. The man was shouting to his friends, but Jim didn't know what he was saying. Eventually he heard a short series of peeps and the hissing noise again, and looking around the box he saw the door open and the nighttime forest outside. He was on his feet in a second, past the man who was stepping outside cautiously, and he gave him a sucker punch as the man started to turn at the noise. The man reeled back, clutching his nose, but Jim did not have time to watch his adversary's pain. He was running. They looked like the same trees as he was used to seeing around the edge of town, and from the slope he guessed he was uphill from the town. Not too far. He was running downhill, and he could hear sounds of pursuit quickly. He had no time to waste.


*


Simon turned the corner into the lab and saw the situation. Steven and Marissa were there, Steven seemingly consoling Marissa, the glass tube was open, and George was obviously dead on the ground, his face bulging and turned purple, and a needle jammed through the side of his neck. Simon summed up the situation with one sentence. "Where is he?" he growled. He may have hated George, but he was one of them, and he deserved better. He shook his head even as Steven started to offer an explanation. They had come from the living quarters, and the only other exit from the lab led towards the exit. He took off jogging, not wanting to fall into a trap and suffer the same fate as George.

Even as he turned the corner he was wary, crouching down into a fighting stance as he looked around. Looking behind a metal cart with a monitor on it, designed for displaying heartbeats and blood pressure, like in a hospital, he shouted in triumph, "I've found him!" Jim was wild-eyed, crouching behind the cart, his eyes fixed on Simon's face, and it was only a split second before he threw himself at Simon's knees from his crouching position. Simon managed to jump back in time, but he was astonished at the speed with which Jim managed to get to his feet, driven by the strength of mania. Before Simon knew what was happening, Jim had smashed him across the jaw with a clenched fist, and Simon reeled back, crying out in pain even as he recovered and lashed out with his own fist, slamming into Jim's cheek. He took note of the fact that his knuckle had split open with a shake of the hand as Jim staggered back, and he smashed his fist into the other man's chest, causing him to stagger back against the hallway wall, which he bounced off and took off sprinting for the exit. Simon followed quickly, but Jim threw anything behind him that he could, and as he tipped over a box of medical tools they had been sent the week before it caught Simon in the legs, and he fell. It was only a moment before he was up, but Jim disappeared around the corner towards the exit.

Simon heard the hiss of the disguised door twice, and a thought flashed through his head. He couldn't have opened the door ... could he? He turned the corner to find an empty hallway, and he ran to the end and the door, looking around for only a moment. he shouted back to the others, most likely following, but he knew they could hear him even in the lab. "He's gone!" he shouted. "He's just ... gone! I think he might've got out the door!"

He went to the keypad, not believing what he was thinking, that Jim could have somehow figured out how to open the door, and keyed in the code. The door hissed open and he stepped outside quickly, only to hear a clattering behind him. As he turned, Jim suddenly caught him with a straight punch to the face, and Simon staggered back, one hand flying to his face where his nose was streaming blood and sitting at a crooked angle, the other bracing himself as he fell backwards. Jim tore off into the night, and Simon jumped up to follow him, pausing for only a moment to regain his bearings. The succession of blows to his head was screwing with his thinking, and he was getting dizzy. Still, he had to catch Jim. He just had to. The consequences were too grave to even think about.

Marissa froze. The thought of that murderer still roaming through the cave, trying to find a way out, was absolutely terrifying. Out of instinct, she latched on even tighter to Steven, but he pushed her away. To him, there was something far more important than the search for the murderer know to them only as Jim.

“What were you doing when you found him?” Steven asked, calmer but still intense, and very accusative. Marissa looked up at him, confused.

“What?” she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

“What were you doing?” Steven repeated, his voice accusing. “Why were you here?”

“I was…” Marissa started to reply, but she was taken back when she realized what Steven was asking. He’s blaming me… “Oh Steven, you can’t be serious…”

“What were you doing here?” Steven repeated once more. “Why did you find him?”

“Steven, look at me!” Marissa shrieked. “I’m shaking! I’m in tears!” She stepped back, her eyes wide with fear and betrayal. “How can you accuse me of this?” she asked, pointing to George’s corpse.

“He told me,” Steven said, acting as if he were possessed. “He told me you wanted him to give it over to the government…you, of all people…he said you were going to do something to Jim.” He shook his head, his eyes burning. “Well Jim’s gone now, Marissa. That’s something. And the government is surely going to come in after all this…and you…” Steven’s eyes grew even wider, if that was even possible. His voice rose. “You have a deal, don’t you?!”

“Wha…?” Marissa stuttered, tears coming back to her face.

“You’ve been talking to them all along!” Steven screamed. It was all becoming clear. “‘Be sure whatever needs done to the specimen is done quickly’” Steven repeated, quoting the message from the government that he had read. “You did this for them! You let Jim out, didn’t you? You let Jim kill George and now you feel fucking guilty about it!”

“Noooo!” Marissa screamed, her hands pressed against the sides of her head as her entire body trembled. “I…I sabotaged it…” she admitted, covering her mouth with her hands.

“What?” Steven asked, his tone far more quiet.

“I didn’t know this was going to happen!” Marissa said, her bottom lip quivering. “I…I had nothing to do with this. George was wrong…I wasn’t going to hurt Jim…”

“You sabotaged what?” Steven questioned, eerily calm.

“Jim…” Marissa said. “The studies…the data…the experiments…everything.”

“But…” Steven muttered, stumbling over his words. He couldn’t believe it. Not her. Not Marissa. “…why…?”

“Steven, Imperial Governmental Relay #1001, the person sending me those messages that George read…is the Emperor,” Marissa said. Steven stared at her, completely dumbfounded and absolutely at a loss of words. Marissa shook her head. “Whatever makes them avoid lifesign scanners…whatever the reason is…” She paused, staring into Steven’s eyes as she could see the misery growing within them. She had betrayed them all, but of their scorn, none would hurt as bad as his, her protégé and her friend. “…he doesn’t want it found…”

Sun let out a scream as the fight ensued. She could fight, but there was a lot of blood and she felt like she was going to be sick. She followed Simon, who had managed to get ahead of her. “Simon you’re bleeding…” she managed to say when she caught up to him, nearly out of breath but she kept going. She knew what it would entail if Jim got loose, but she watched the blood pour down his face and gripped his arm. “Something might be broken,” she told him, then saw the look in his eyes. She nodded, and continued on with him. She would have to take a look at his wounds when she got back. From what she saw Jim hit hard. There was no way in hell she could take one of those hits and remain standing. Perhaps, however, she could distract or help. One thing was for sure; she wasn’t leaving Simon out here alone. Her movements were lithe despite how heavily she was breathing. She had been on the gymnastics team in high school; however those days were long since past.

She ran ahead of Simon, catching a glimpse of Jim in the near distance. She couldn't keep at this for long.

"Something might be broken..."

The words rang in his ears as if he was underwater, and he realized his ears were ringing, probably from the blow to the jaw, which could well have knocked his jawbone back into his eardrums. "I don't care," he growled, barely hearing his own voice, and he caught the look in her eyes as they both turned and sprinted after their ex-captive.

Simon was outpacing Sun, his regular running back at the university helping him, and he caught glimpses of Jim running through the woods ahead of him. "Stop!" he yelled, but the other man took no heed. It was only when he tripped over a root in the dark that Simon caught up to him, breathing heavily, as Jim rolled on the ground and leapt to his feet facing Simon, madness in his eyes. Simon ran for him, hoping his improved physical shape would help him overcome the other man. Jim, though, had on his side determination, and Simon's clumsy lunge forward was met with a punch to the face that jammed his teeth together, biting into the inside of one of his cheeks and drawing blood. He reeled backwards in time to catch another punch to the gut, which caused him to double over, winded.

It was then that Sun came running onto the scene, despite Simon, out of breath, trying his best to shout at her, to warn her away, but only coming out as a wheezing whisper of "Sun, look out-"

Even as she realized what had happened, Jim was reacting desperately, spinning and catching her across the face with a solitary punch. She hit the ground hard, and Jim turned back towards Simon, too late. Simon, despite being out of breath, had thrown himself at the other man, roaring a wordless shout of rage at his reaction to Sun's arrival. Simon caught Jim in the chest with his tackle and sent both men tumbling to the ground, Simon ending up half-standing, half-kneeling over Jim's prone body, raining blow after blow onto the man's face. "You bastard!" he roared, despite knowing the man did not understand him. "You fucking bastard!"

He had hit Jim in the face with maybe ten punches, as hard as he could, and his knuckles were bleeding onto the other man's face, when Jim reacted instinctively and primitively, lashing up with his leg and catching Simon in the groin. he screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground off of Jim, who pulled himself to his feet, his face a bloody mess. He paused for long enough to catch Simon with a kick across the temple, to make sure the anthropologist did not follow him once he recovered, and Simon's entire body spasmed once in response, as he lay curled up on the ground, moaning in pain, tears forming in his eyes. Jim took one wild-eyed look around the small clearing, and spun round, running down the hill towards the town again, both his pursuers incapacitated and at least mostly unconscious. There was no chance of the scientists catching him now.

Sun was down, laying on the ground and unable to move any of her limbs. Her head hurt the most, and blood trailed from the right side of her forehead and had seeped into her hair. She felt nauseous and dizzy; like the whole world was spinning around her. She could hear yelling, and sounds like bone cracking. She could feel the night breeze brush against her cheek. She could feel the warm hot liquid streak down her face like a misplaced tear. Pain tore through her entire body. She reached her hand out to her necklace which was a few feet from her. It had fallen off in the fall, but she reached out for it. She could not reach it. A few tears fell from her eyes when she could not reach it; such a trivial thing, but she did not cry. There were only tears. With her hand outstretched, she went unconscious.

"You have a deal, don't you?" Steven's tone was accusatory, and James skidded to a halt, his eyes suddenly wide. He heard Marissa's protests, Steven's further accusations. He ducked against the wall, not knowing what was going on, and somehow not really wanting to know. he heard their entire conversation from then on, his eyes widening at the realization of the last thing she said. He closed his eyes tightly. He still didn't know what had happened. He still didn't want to know, but he knew he had to. He was suddenly struck with fear. The Imperial government, the Emperor ... it was all scaring him. He began to fear for his life, for his sanity, for his ever seeing his child again. Chills ran down his spine, but he bit his lip hard to try and stifle everything. Closing his eyes tightly, he counted to ten and then stepped out into the lab. Seeing the two Imperial scientists confronting each other, the empty glass case, and George's dead body, everything they had said suddenly made sense to him.

"What the fuck happened?" he screamed, running to George on the ground. He was possibly the only person on the entire research team that had ever had a civil conversation with their funder, and if there was even a slim chance he was still alive ... it was worth trying.


*


Simon finally began to move, maybe five minutes after the devastating kick to the side of his head. It was throbbing, his brain crying out in complaint to what had happened. His entire body was in pain, he could feel blood running down his nose and lips and taste it in his mouth, and his ears were ringing even worse than before. He could no longer hear. All the knuckles on both his hands were split, cracked, and bleeding onto the ground. His vision was blurring in and out, as he spat up blood onto his own shirt, still lying on the ground. Feeling an uncontrollable urge, he hurriedly rolled over onto his front and vomited onto the ground. His entire body was quivering as he managed to pull himself to his feet and look around, barely seeing Sun lying off to one side of the clearing. "Sun..." he mumbled, staggering towards her and literally falling to his knees at her side. "Sun..." he mumbled again, feeling out for a pulse and thankfully finding one, though she was clearly unconscious.

"Sun ... got to get you ... out of here," he said, the words slurring, and he finished the sentence by spitting more blood onto the ground. "Can't stay," he said finally, and with some effort managed to reach out to pick her up in his arms and stand up, holding her close to his chest so he could support her against his body, not just with his arms, which were quivering and which even in his dazed, concussed state he did not trust. He began to stagger back towards the cave, his mind focussed on one thing: get Sun to safety.

Marissa was in no shape to talk, and as far as Steven was concerned, that was hardly a problem. He was now scared for his job, but more importantly, his life, both from the Empire and the Vespians.

“Jim…” Steven muttered in reply to James, his mind obviously elsewhere. “The Vespian…Jim just killed him.” Are we all headed to prison for this? Kidnapping…the Temporal Directive…murder…? Steven shook his head, trying to regain his senses. He felt numb more than anything, no longer crying, no longer trembling…just numb. “George tried to let him escape,” Steven continued. For the first time, he walked towards the medical bed, looking down on the mess of a man that once was George. There was blood on the floor now, and George’s tongue was partially sticking out. Steven reached down to shut the man’s eyelids and close his mouth out of respect. “This is how he was repaid…”

"Oh my god ..." James breathed. "Where's Simon?" He knew the answer before it was spoken. "He went after Jim, didn't he?" Foolhardy idiot.

"What are we going to do?" he said, standing up and backing away from George in horror. "What are we going to do - what are we going to do?"

A buzzing sounded from his pocket, and he jumped, grabbing his PDA, which he had taken the liberty of, for security reasons, patching in live feeds from the outside security cameras to. "There's someone at the front door," he said quietly. He swallowed. He knew they were all hoping the same thing; that it was Simon, and he had Jim with him. He flipped it open and looked at the small screen. His face whitened immediately, and he hurriedly dropped it onto the flat surface of the operating bed as he ran for the door, hurriedly knocking in the code into the keypad, the door sliding open and revealing Simon, Sun in his arms. He had fallen to his knees and his eyes were rolling back up into his head. "Save her," he mumbled, blood dribbling from his mouth as he spoke. "Help ... Sun ..." Even as James ran forward to grab her out of his arms, he collapsed.

"Steven! Marissa! Help me!" James screamed as loud as he could into the cave, standing awkwardly with Sun in his arms, turning to run as fast as he could with such a burden back to the lab. He hoped, and would have prayed were he religious, that someone, someone had decent medical skills.

A biologist, Steven had dabbled in medicine before deciding on working in the lab. However, whether or not his skills were “decent” was up for debate.

Quickly he rushed to Simon, grabbing the man under the shoulders and laying him down where he collapsed. His nose seemed broken, his lip already swollen, and a few teeth were even missing. As Steven scanned the rest of his body, he also noted bloody knuckles, and there were undoubtedly bruises to other parts as well. He shined a small flashlight in Simon’s eyes.

"Damnit, I think he has a concussion," Steven shouted. Reaching down, he grabbed Simon’s nose and quickly snapped it back into place, causing the bloodied man to scream out in pain and cough up blood. “Shit, shit, shit,” Steven muttered to himself, sprinting over to the medical cabinet to get gauze, some local anesthetic, a pillow, and Peroxide.

The Peroxide bubbled on Simon’s face as Steven cleaned it, preparing the syringes for injection. He shot the painkiller into Simon’s face and soon he relaxed, leaving Steven to tend to his wounds. Looking over towards the medical bed, Steven could tell James was struggling with sun, as well as the fact that he was so close to George, still lumped over on the floor.

Steven went over and crushed an ammonia capsule under her nose, and her eyes shot open before closing half way. He handed James an ice pack.

“Give her this,” Steven ordered, now realizing how far out of his league he actually was as he returned to tend to Simon. The man seemed passed out, and yet Steven knew not whether that was good, for rest, or bad, for the concussion.

All this time, Marissa had done nothing but stare at George. She was a sellout, a bigger stooge than the Imperials she had sold out to, effectively destroying any moral credibility she once had.

But how could she have refused the Emperor? And what benefit would she have received from the Vespian’s ability anyhow? There would be more wars, more death. Marissa stared down at George’s body. One death was enough.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, walking up behind Steven, who was rapidly trying to stop Simon’s bleeding. Jim had given him quite the beating, and it was a wonder Jim hadn’t killed him as well.

“Leave us the fuck alone,” Steven angrily shot back, not even turning to look at her. “You’ve done more than enough already.”

“Steven, I…” Marissa began, but Steven cut her off.

“Listen, Marissa,” Steven interrupted, stopping what he was doing and turning to face her. Blood covered his hands, his lab coat, and his shirt. There were even traces on his face. “I couldn’t give a shit what you have to say, because I’d never be able to believe it. All those years…all those speeches on the importance of science and the problems with the government…you go and betray us all.” He spat off to the side. “To think I ever looked up to you…”

Sun’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt her whole body was cold, and she was shivering. It was preparations for going into shock she knew. When you get a tattoo done, the body prepares to go into shock. She experienced that when she had gotten the tattoo on her wrist done. She didn’t reach for the icepack, but instead toward her neck. “My necklace,” she whispered, and then looked over towards Simon. The world seemed to spin as she steadied herself. She took some of the gauze that was open and placed it till the large, still bleeding wound on her forehead which began right at her hair line. She needed to clean it. She took the peroxide herself and poured it over the cut. She winced in pain. Immediately she bandaged it with gauze and tape. She had no recollection of how she got back here, nor of how she ended up with a cut on her head and a minor concussion.

She went to Simon’s side, and picked up a small flashlight. She almost fell over, she was dizzy, and her hands were shaking from the cold feeling. “He has a concussion; you can’t let him get to sleep. He has to stay awake,” she whispered, gently taking his hand and, upon noticing the blood, sterilized and bandaged the wound, then held his hand between hers. They had done a good job of setting the nose in place. She was shaking awfully bad; shivering. “Simon,” she whispered near his ear. “Simon I need you to stay away. It’s Sun….” she said, and the man’s eyes slowly opened. “You have to stay with me. You can’t sleep for an hour…I don’t want you slipping into a coma. Just stay with me okay?” She said, the blood from her cut had seeped through the gauze of the bandage on her forehead, and some still remained on her face. Some of it was not her own.

“Honestly Simon,” she said continuing to speak with him as best she could constantly, not letting him close his eyes. “If you leave me now I’ll never have a decent breakfast again. How are we going to terrorize James with insinuations if your all comatose on me. Comatose people aren’t very fun. No whip cream is wasted on them,” she knew that the conversation would sound weird, but it was doing it’s job, it was keeping him awake. She looked back at Steven, who seemed to be the only other one who knew what he was doing.

“Clean the rest of his cuts…” she managed, still shivering.

When Steven had done all that he could, and Sun had taken over Simon’s care, he stood and stretched his legs. Marissa had gone to her room, or at least somewhere other than the lab, and Steven couldn’t have appreciated her absence more at this point. He wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive her for what she did, and what would become of it.

Looking in the full-body mirror in the lab, Steven couldn’t help but frown. He was covered in blood, on his chest, his hands, his white coat, his khaki’s, and even his neck and face, none of it his own. He thought to wash his hands, but then he remembered George. Something had to be done.

“James,” Steven said, turning to face the man who raised an eyebrow at his appearance. “We need to put the body into storage.” James, who had blood on him as well from Sun’s head, cringed. Steven pointed to his right. “There’s a refrigerated cabinet over there.”

“Is it big enough?” James asked. Steven shook his head; he had been thinking the same thing.

“He might not be in the most…comfortable position,” Steven replied, unsure of what other word to use. Obvious George wouldn’t be comfortable, but even if he could be, it wouldn’t matter, for he was dead, and comfort didn’t matter. “But it’s the biggest thing we have that will keep his body cool.”

Steven grabbed George under the armpits as James picked up his legs. George’s head flopped around at unusual angles as he was carried over, spilling blood across the floor and on Steven’s boots. They opened the large cabinet and awkwardly placed George inside. Carefully they moved his body into the fetal position, and Steven was glad that it had not yet become stiff.

He looked up at James, both of them now covered in the blood of multiple people, and for the life of him, could not find a word to say. Steven wanted to wake up, wanted it not to be real, but he would not be so lucky. He stared towards the door of the cave, to where Sun and Simon were, and realized that the Vespian sun would soon be rising in the south, lighting the hillsides and farmlands. Soon, Jim would tell his story. Soon, they would come looking.

Steven shuddered at the thought. He would have to contact the Empire within the hour.

“You know all the right things to say now, but it’s just a little too late.”

“I want you to be my best friend Chris. I want it to go back to the way it was when we were still in college. If you would have said that then and there this would have been different. I’m….I’m sorry I have to go.” She said, turned from him. She wasn’t in a happy mood and assumed he wouldn’t be either. She couldn’t really grasp what had just happened. She couldn’t believe it really. All the time she couldn’t’ discern if he truly meant it or not.

"What? Sun...Sun..." Chris whispered as she walked out his door. He slumped against the wall and broke down crying. Perhaps it would do him good. He had relieved himself of anger...now the sadness would take hold. He had heard perhaps the most hurtful words she had said yet. I want it to go back to the way it was when we were still in college...

Chris moaned as he walked to his room and lay down in his bed, sobbing like he had not done so before...not in a long time. "We loved each other Sun...that's how it was in college..." he cried out.

"I'm just...too late...but why? I have done nothing to you...I have tried to make you happy...I rarely played pranks...Sun..." he spoke to a small picture he had on his nearby corner table. It held the angelic beauty he always loved, a faint smile on her face. Next to her was Chris himself, his goofy grin on his face as though he had just cracked a witty remark.

He heard someone at his door...but he didn't want to answer. His heart was tearing itself apart. And he was naked...cold and naked...

He lay there as his bed grew wet from Sun's tears, his tears, and his still damp body before he fell asleep, feeling utterly alone.

***

He awoke quite a bit later, hearing a scream that resounded through even his room, frightening him even more. What happened? What's going on? He leapt out of bed and looked around, jumping at the frigid feeling of the cold floor on his bare feet. He immediately lept into action, putting on one of his tight t-shirts that he said "Accented his 'Four-Pack'", since he had lost his six pack after college. But he was, by no means, overweight. He still had the muscle that made him look a sports star. And he had used it only on few occasions.

Changed in his jeans and shirt, he hastily put on his sneakers and ran out into the lab. He noticed two people being carried in and operated on. Simon and Sun.

"What the heck? Why didn't anyone tell me! Give me something to do!" he shouted as he immediately dashed to the doorway. "What happened-oh..."

The opened containment field stood out in the open, sending chills down Chris' spine. What happened to Jim? Why are people hurt...what is- George...

"Oh no..." he gasped as he noticed the unmoving figure of the poor (yet quite rich) man...to die such a horrible death...but why.

"Someone, tell me what happened! Where is Jim?" Chris asked as George was carried away in an unceremonious manner. He turned to to look for Marissa, but she seemed to have disappeared...was she behind this? "What-who-what is going on? Why..." He was at a loss for words. Something huge had just happened and he was not called in for anything. Perhaps because they didn't have time, he didn't know but he had to do something. And quick.

His eyes scanned further into the scene, finally settling on Simon and his hopeful love. "Sun? Simon? What's going on? Are you guys alright? Please, tell me if I can do something," he asked rapidly, mentally cursing how stupid he must sound. His eyes falling on the hastily wrapped bandages on Sun. He carefully placed his hand on one of them and adjusted it gently. Sun... "Your necklace...where is it?" He knew she had a necklace she kept with her at most, if not all times, and that necklace was very dear to her.

“It’s gone,” she said, and her eyes reddened but she did not cry. You could never count on that girl to cry, even if she looked like she was going to. She was still trying to keep Simon awake; doing everything she possibly could. She started to turn, and his eyes started to close. She would be there for a while. She continued to talk to him, and intermittently Chris.

“George let Jim escape. I assume that his instinct was to get away. George must have thought he was doing something good, but when you let out an animal that has been captured and caged, they will do anything to get away to avoid being trapped again. Jim got loose, and when Simon and I heard the scream we bolted after Jim. Simon caught up to him first, took a good few hits…then I outran him and I got knocked unconscious. Simon continued to fight him, but I can’t remember anything after that. I think Simon carried me back…” She said, and looked back to Simon. She was still holding his hand in between two of hers.

“He has a major concussion. I need to keep him awake for an hour. If he goes to sleep he might never wake up,” she said softly, and ran her fingertips over his. If she had been left out there, who knows what would have happened.

She felt a wave of dizziness pass her again. She couldn’t fall asleep either for an hour, even though she had been rendered unconscious. He had hit in a spot right above her temple, and there was a chance that there was internal bleeding in the brain. Simon had been luckier, albeit hurt worse. She looked at Simon. The dizziness should have gone away by now, or perhaps it was just her nerves. “Steven I need you to give me a lumbar puncture and test the CSF to see if there is blood; I need to know if there is internal bleeding…I was hit in my temple…” She explained, suddenly her face darkened. Satisfied that Simon was now awake, and it had been a while, she had approached Steven. “Would you?”

"G-gone?" Chris began as he noticed her look away. "I wish someone warned me...or set off an alarm...or something- I mean, I thought I heard a scream but I wasn't positive...I had-" He stopped. He didn't want to sound as though he was a slacker the moment this happened. But it was not truly his fault that he had gone to sleep...it was partially hers...

His eyes turned to Simon and fell down to his hand in hers. A moment of anger surged through him, but was pacified when he tried to tell himself that it was all Sun trying to keep Simon from slipping into the deep sleep.

"Simon, stay with us. Thank you so much for keeping Sun safe and bringing her here. What you both have done was real brave. I wish I was there to help...we may not have let Jim escape..." He looked back at Sun and gave her a weak, comforting smile.

When news of possible internal bleeding got to Chris, his face paled. It didn't take a medical expert to know that was bad...

Chris was never much of a religious person. Occasionally, he may find himself at Church, usually to calm himself down from something, or just to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. And the occasional time when Sun brought him with her. But now more than ever he prayed with all his heart to any god that would listen to an faithless man, that Sun would be alright...

What else could he do?

“He was strong,” she looked back at Chris. “He was strong enough to take me out in one, very well placed hit.” She sighted. She had not been in many fights; hardly any actually. She never really knew anyone to get in a true fight with. She looked back at Steven, waiting for a response. Red blood cells in her CSF would mean that she had internal bleeding in her brain. If that was true, well…she didn’t want to think about it. She looked at Simon, and made sure that he was still conscious as a look of concern washed over his face. He had carried her all the way back to the lab even though he was so beat up. She wanted to help him; she wanted him to be all right.

The seventh wave of dizziness hit her, and she would have fallen if she didn’t grab onto the chair. “I don’t need any anesthetics…” she whispered softly. “I just want to know.”

"Sun, maybe you should sit down," Chris said quietly as he held onto her shoulders when she began to sway and held onto the chair. He gently guided her to the chair and beckoned for her to sit down. "Steven will get the stuff as quickly as possible." He turned to make sure Simon was awake as well and gave him a gentle smile. "You still with us, Simon? You feeling better?"

Chris sighed and gently pushed away an unruly lock of Sun's hair from her face. Please be safe...don't be hurt...not you Sun...not you... He would perform the whatever test himself, but he would probably not be the only one deathly scared of doing something wrong...especially with a needle as large as they had stuck Jim with before...

Jim. Where is he now? If I get my hands on him... Chris' hands clenched but one look at the sad state of Sun made his anger subside. The once proud girl was in bad a state as he was, if not worse. He held onto her other hand and gently stroked it. "I won't let anything happen to you, Sun..." he whispered sadly. Not that there was much more that one can do to her. It was just comforting for him, and hopefully her to mention it. He had slacked off for a good portion of his life and perhaps that had ruined his chance with Sun. He would curse himself forever if that happened...but for now, he vowed to change his ways...no more slacking.

Simon's eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling, unmoving, blinking occasionally. He was awake, but the ringing in his ears preventing him from hearing most of what people were saying. His left ear was completely deaf and the right was little better. He could vaguely hear what Sun had been saying, but now that she had turned away from him, he could no longer hear anything other than a loud ringing. He saw Chris' face loom in front of him for a moment, and his mouth moved, but he couldn't hear the man's words.

He could feel a gap in his teeth where one of his molars had been until that night, but knew it was probably lying in a puddle of blood he had spat from his mouth back in the clearing.

He opened his mouth to speak, trying to say something, to ask Sun how she was - his only concern was how she was; it was why he had forced himself to get up in the clearing. If not for her, he could have still been lying in the clearing, passed out, and probably slowly dying. His addled brain wondered just what that meant, but found it hard to comprehend. The noise that ended up coming out of his mouth was like a cross between a mumbled "Sun..." and a gasp for air, even as his vision started to blur. He didn't know what was wrong. Jim hadn't hit him that hard ... had he? It was hard to think, and he was very tired. He just wanted to rest. Blood was still covering much of the lower half of his face, and he just wanted to fall asleep and rest. His entire body ached or actively hurt, and his mind found it hard to think, and began to shut down. His eyes slowly began to close, and his hand in Sun's relaxed significantly.

"Simon? Simon, wake up, bud," Chris said quietly. He didn't know Simon so well, but he couldn't just sit there watching him pass out when Sun had been telling them not to let him fall asleep.

Chris looked around at the lab desks and quickly pulled out a few towels and gently dabbed off the blood on his face. "Simon, don't leave us. Think of...girls...uh...games, happiness. Stay awake, Simon. We need you," he said somewhat loudly, not quite sure if he could hear him so well.

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

“Dead?” Colonel William Sharp asked, dumbfounded. “He’s dead?”

“I spoke with Mr. Steven Bradford, one of the scientists, just moments ago,” General Jack Valkare replied. He scowled. “Apparently there have been things going on that we were…unaware of.”

“Such as?” Sharp questioned.

“Dr. Marissa Corrigan,” Valkare said, looking at the report Steven had sent him. “Was…” He paused. This was none of Colonel’s Sharp’s business. “…doing things she shouldn’t have been. Mr. George Atwater tried to stop her, but apparently what Mr. Atwater believed her to be doing was different than what she really was up to, and Mr. Atwater paid the price for it.”

“So we go down there and pull the plug to this thing?” Colonel Sharp asked. “Tell the Emperor it’s over.” Valkare shook his head.

“We do nothing of the sort,” the General replied, rubbing his chin in thought. He glared at the Colonel, trying to demonstrate the seriousness of the situation. “The Emperor is not to know.” Colonel Sharp, ever the loyal marine, understood completely. “We need the ability to avoid lifescanners…and the Vespians have it. I want Dr. Bradford here, on this ship, now.”

“And the Temporal Directive?” the Colonel asked. Surely some Vespian would notice a dropship landing in the mountains.

“To hell with it, Colonel,” Valkare shot back.

“As you wish, sir,” Sharp replied, saluting and quickly heading towards the shuttlebay.

Sun got up out of the chair. “Something has already happened to me, Chris…” she said sternly, “for now, I’m fine.” even though she was not. She looked at Simon’s eyes closed. “Oh fuck…” she said. It was the first time she had ever sworn. She couldn’t fix him up, not in her condition, and yet she had to try. She silently wished she had Baralai’s necklace with her. She rubbed the tattoo on her wrist, as if it would do any good. She walked over to the counter and put on a pair of plastic gloves. Not that she was worried he would infect her, but she would infect him. “The bleeding must stop,” she said She set his nose as she had done with Chris’ and had given him similar bandaging. His jaw was another matter. She examined it carefully, and felt the bones. They were not supposed to be there. She moved them back in place and used tape and gauze to keep that area from moving as well as a metal splint from the first aid kit which had been brought. She felt another wave of dizziness wash over her, and felt like she was going to be sick.

“He needs more help than I do,” she whispered when a hand had reached to pull her away. She retained it and cleaned his wounds, bandaging them when she found them. She unzipped the top half of his suit, stopping at his belly button and gently sliding his already bandaged hands out of it with the help of a few others. She felt tears streak her face, but there were no sobs. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were tearing. She seemed calm; complacent, and worked as she was trained, while it was really only first aid and some EMT, it was enough from that wellness course taken. She was perhaps more apt because she knew what the chemicals she was using did and how to use them on open cuts. She observered a large bruise on his abdomen, but after feeling that nothing was broken, and that the skin was bruised and it wasn’t internal bleeding, she let out a soft sigh of relief. That was something she couldn’t deal with.

“Keep feeding him the anesthetics…” she said softly, and looked at him as he was closing his eyes. Her tears fell down upon his chest silently. She looked at his eyes. “Just twenty more minutes awake, then you can sleep, until then, I need you to stay with me. All right?”

The Stratus-Class Dropship (http://www.geocities.com/theorionsector/stratus.html) raced through the clouds to the planet. Colonel Sharp was not one to go on away mission often, typically staying aboard his ship to control the mission from above, but this retrieval was different. It had been ordered by the General himself.

Touching down right outside of the cave, the dropship shook the Vespian soil, undoubtedly rumbling the equipment in the cave as well. The Vespian sun cast reflections off of the dropship as the pressurized door flew open, revealing Colonel Sharp and four marines dressed in full ODIN Heavy Battle Armor.

http://209.85.48.8/237/117/upload/p698970.jpg

Sharp, his weapon drawn, typed in an Imperial Override Level G-5 Password into the door of the cave, and it opened before him. Shouting commands, the marines burst into the lab. Sharp gripped his pistol in his right hand; the other marines held PHAR Assault Rifles to their shoulder.

“Steven Bradford!” Colonel Sharp commanded, scanning the lab. There were obvious casualties throughout the scientists here. Perhaps the situation was even worse than Mr. Bradford had reported. We should have brought a medic…

“Aye?” Steven looked up from what he was doing, still covered in blood beside from his hands and his face, which he managed to wash, and his once white lab overcoat, which he took over. He had been given Sun a lumbar puncture, a procedure that he seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

“You are to come with us,” Sharp demanded. Steven looked as confused as everyone else in the lab. He hadn’t expected them to come down to the planet, or be so swift with their landing either. He had just got off the comm with the General twenty minutes ago. Steven winced; he had enough military contact for one day as it was with the report, and now five men were standing before him, demanding that he come with them.

“What?” Steven asked, hurrying as he pulled the needle from Sun’s back, dripping the sample into a small capsule. “Why?”

“The general requests your presence,” Colonel Sharp replied, his voice sounding robotic due to the voice filters in the ODIN Armor. He grabbed Steven by the arm, almost making him drop the sample.

“Am I under arrest?” Steven asked definitely, trying to pull away. The colonel held tight.

“Not yet,” the Colonel sneered, pulling Steven towards the door. Steven hastily gave Sun the needle and the sample.

“Take care of this for me,” Steven told her. He glared at the colonel. “I’ll be back shortly. They can’t just keep me up there.”

The soldiers left as quickly as they had arrived, filing out backwards one by one after Colonel Sharp had escorted Steven out. The six of them climbed into the dropship and strapped themselves in, ignoring Steven’s objections. Starting the engines, the pilot engaged the dropship, as Steven took off for the Tyrant.

Sun took the sample and pulled her shirt back on. That was enough indecency for a lifetime. Oh if the situation had been different she would have never sent the end of it. She put a drop of the sample under the slide of a microscope, and looked through the lens. She took a deep breath as she saw the RBC traveling through the sample. She walked back to Simon, and sat down beside him, and took his hand once more.

She was dying.

Given the amount of time and the amount of red blood cells, she had around four hours left. She didn’t even cry. She held Simon’s hand a bit tightly, trying to keep him awake, but the clock had passed an hour now. He could sleep. She placed one hand on the side of his face. “You can sleep now,” she whispered. “That would be the best thing for you to do.”

Marissa was in her room, rummaging through her stuff. This was her fault, her problem, and damnit; she was going to fix it. She came upon the emergency chest each Imperial scientist was given before they left for an expedition and pulled it out. The chest was heavy, and she sat on her floor with it between her legs and she fiddled with the lock.

It took her a while to remember her own combination, but Marissa successfully opened the box. Lifting the lid, she rummaged through what was inside. Medical hypersprays, emergency communication beacons, and…Ah hah!…the pistol that each of them was assigned. It was an old-style, projectile pistol that used bullets and shells, but it was as modern as the phased weaponry of the Marines, just of a different sort.

Marissa held the pistol in her hand, the metal was cold to the touch and it was heavier than the typical tools she used in the field. She hadn’t fired a gun in years, but she hoped that it was similar to riding a speeder; once you learn you don’t forget.

She knew where Jim lived and she knew what he did during the day. She knew who he hung out with and who he resided in. She would know where to find him.

Throwing on a coat to mask the weapon, and placing the weapon in the coat’s inner pocket, Marissa quickly left her room, leaving the door open behind her and the emergency chest open on the floor, and entered the lab. She had heard the dropship land and the soldier’s take Steven away, but she was not worried. It was simply for them to talk in private, she figured. After all, she was who the military would want. She was who ruined their plans.

“Sun,” she said, addressing the young woman who was holding Simon’s hand. She did not want company, but she needed Sun, for the time being at least. “I need you to show me which direction Jim went.” If there were objections to her leaving, she was not about to pay them notice. “I need to know if he’s going to his house, his father’s, or his work. You showing me which direction you and Simon followed him in will tell me immediately.”

The pain from her bandaging his wounds and setting his jaw, which although only minorly cracked still hurt like hell when she made sure it was in the right place, woke him up for a few minutes more, gritting his teeth against the pain and trying to block it out. He hadn't heard what Chris had said to him, and the ringing in his ears was drowning out Sun as she tried to speak to him. Struck by a wave of anger and anxiety as he could see her having to steady herself against something, - dizziness, or nausea, or something, he couldn't tell - he almost lashed out against nothing, against himself for letting Jim hit her, but instead did nothing. "Sun... you're hurt..." he mumbled, though he could not hear himself talk and didn't know how it came out, whether the blood in his mouth would make him hard to understand, whether he was even making any noise.

He could see her talking to him, but couldn't hear her words, as tears fell from her face onto his bared chest. "I can't hear you," he tried to say, but again wasn't sure if it came out as anything more than barely-coherent mumbling.

She had her hand on his cheek now, and he could see a new emotion on her face. He couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't tell what she was saying. He tried to smile at her, trying to cheer her up the way he had been able to before, but even in his delusional state he could tell it came out weak. The pain from her bandaging his wounds was subsiding, and the desire to sleep returned. Once again, his eyes began to slowly close, and his body went limp on the table.

James stood up from the chair he had been sitting in, trying to clear his head, when Marissa walked into the room. He knew she had already been confronted, twice, about her treachery, and he wanted to add his own shouts to Steven's, but he knew it would help the situation very little. He did not know about the firearm in her pocket. "I should go with you," he announced. "I speak the language a bit. I can try and explain, we can think up a story. We didn't try to talk to him when he was here, and we should've. We could've avoided all this shit."

He stepped towards Marissa and Sun. "If I had been in this room we would have talked to him, instead of treating him with hostility and driving him to fight and flight. Simon wouldn't be in this situation," he said pointedly, jabbing a finger at his friend, who was losing consciousness on the table. "We have to try. Maybe something can be salvaged."

“I’ll go with you,” she whispered softly. “I have to get my necklace anyway,” she gave Simon’s hand one last squeeze. No more dizziness. At least, not for now. “Give me ten minutes?” She whispered, and walked back to her room. She took a quick shower, five minutes gone, and put on a white shirt and jeans as well as comfortable shoes. She placed her hand on the back of her neck. She wanted her necklace; she wanted to wear Baralai’s cross when she died. She would get it back. She looked in the mirror. She looked like a wreck. She brushed her hair, being very careful of the one bandage near her temple and just on her hairline; that one bandage changed so much. She sighed softly. At least she was wearing white; she wanted to wear a white dress when she died. She had a whimsical mind, when she was younger, when she imagined her entire life enfolding before her. By now she would have had two kids.

She walked back towards the lab, and eyed Marissa, who wasn’t happy of waiting. She wouldn’t tell any of them. She didn’t want to spend the last hours she had with people trying to fix her. She wanted no one to know. “Follow me.” She said, and opened the door to the outside after punching the code into the device. She stepped outside, and waited for Marissa.

Marissa looked at James and shook her head.

“Come if you will, but do not talk to them, James.” she said, not wanting him to go to jail as well. She put one hand on his shoulder and touched her hidden pistol with the other, reassuring her self. She would be going to jail, most likely for a long time, but that didn’t matter now. “With those soldiers, the Imperial presence here is even greater. I don’t want you arrested…they don’t take well to foreigners.”

Turning around, Marissa followed Sun out into the Vespian woods.

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

“He’s coming aboard, Commander,” General Jack Valkare told Commander Ramza Gabranth.

“What!?” Commander Gabranth exclaimed. He did not fancy this reunion, but even if it was inevitable, he never had expected it to take place on the Tyrant. Valkare raised an eyebrow at the commander’s response, and Gabranth quickly realized the error in his ways and gathered himself. “My apologies, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, Commander,” Valkare replied, smiling. He had found Gabranth’s shout oddly amusing.

“May I request to be excused, sir?” Gabranth asked. He did not want to be seen.

“It appears,” Valkare began as the door to his office burst open and Colonel Sharp, still dressed in his ODIN Heavy Battle armor but without the helmet, threw Steven inside. “That your request comes a bit late.” Steven cursed the colonel under his breath, stumbling into the room.

“I demand to know the meaning of…” He indignantly began, but stopped, freezing in place as his eyes met Gabranth’s. Gabranth seemed older, as he should have, and much stronger, which Steven easily attributed to the military service. While Steven could barely fight a teenager and win, Gabranth looked like he could fight ten men and come out unscathed. However, to Steven, Gabranth was not his name. “…Eric…?”

“Colonel,” Valkare quickly said. Sharp had heard quite enough. “Please relieve yourself.” Colonel Sharp began to object, but Valkare’s glare told him that now was certainly not the time. The colonel left, shutting the door behind him.

Commander Ramza Gabranth looked at Steven in horror. Steven, covered in blood, looked exhausted. It had been quite some time since he had seen Steven, and this was not how he expected Steven to appear.

“Don’t tell me you’re behind this,” Steven muttered, shocked and angry at the sight of Gabranth, or “Eric” as Steven referred to him as.

“I can assure you,” Gabranth replied, the tension of his past rising up so quickly it nearly choked him. “That this was not my intention…”

“Nor was it mine, Mr. Bradford,” Valkare said, stepping in. This rivalry aside, there was work to be done. He would have smiled, but the situation was dreadfully serious, and the General wasn’t about to betray that. “I apologize for how you were brought here, but you must understand from the nature of how we brought you here that it was of the utmost importance.”

“I don’t understand how this couldn’t be discussed over visual comm,” Steven replied to the General, his eyes his glaring at Gabranth, who returned his glare in turn.

“You are a citizen of the Empire, are you not?” Valkare asked.

“Yes,” Steven replied. “And under dominion of the Emperor and his laws…not his Generals and their whims.” Valkare laughed, although it was not out of humor, but because of the ridiculousness of Steven’s statement. As if laws applied to the Generals…

“And if your Emperor is not acting in the best interests of the Empire?” Valkare continued. Steven turned his gaze to Valkare, confused. Did the General just say what Steven thought he did?

“Marissa…” Steven muttered. Valkare nodded.

“Exactly, Mr. Bradford,” the General replied. “The Emperor’s intentions have become…unclear as of late…but that is none of your concern.” He stepped out from behind his desk. “The Vespians, Mr. Bradford, and their innate abilities are all of our concern.”

“You want me to tell the others to continue the research…even with all that’s happened?” Steven asked. Valkare nodded once more. “Wait…you’re going to hide this from the Emperor, aren’t you?”

“Do not concern yourself with my activities, civilian,” Valkare replied, his face betraying the harshness of his words. “Nevertheless, your intuition does you well. Your intelligence lives up to Commander Gabranth’s praises.”

“Commander Gabranth?” Steven sneered, spitefully glaring at the Commander. “Is that what you call yourself now? Tell me, Commander, what your first name is?”

“Ramza,” Commander Gabranth replied, without hesitation.

“Your forsake the name of our father, then?” Steven asked. “And the name he gave you?” After all, Gabranth was his brother, two years older, and previously known as Eric Bradford.

“I forsake the name of a traitor,” Gabranth shot back. “I will not have my life tarnished because of his misery.”

“A traitor?!” Steven screamed, but once again, Valkare stopped the bickering.

“Will you continue the mission?” Valkare asked of Steven.

“We have people hurt down there,” Steven replied. “They need help.”

“And we also have an Emperor watching our every move,” Valkare replied. “A permanent military presence of Vespia would not bode well. What then would stop him from ordering the invasion outright?”

“I…” Steven began. Steven felt like a pawn, no better than Marissa. His mind wandered to his father, wondering how he felt at his own pinnacle moment. “I suppose I’ll continue…”

“Good,” Valkare said. “Commander Gabranth will escort you to the surface…”

Instantly, both Steven and Gabranth felt ill.

Chris walked backwards a bit to give Sun the room she needed. Best not get in her way as she cared for Simon. However when she got her blood test, she seemed to get a look of tiredness to her. "Sun? What's wrong? What's going on? What did you see?"

Just as she was about to answer, the whole room seemed to shake. "This just keeps getting better and better..."

As they took Steven away, he frowned as one after the other, the scientists seemed to be disappearing. It was like a horror movie or something...unreal.

As Marissa came out asking Sun to come with her, Chris figured he should perhaps try to go too.

"I'll go too," Chris replied after James. Yet Simon still remained on the table..."Wait...wait guys, what about Simon?" Chris didn't want to leave the poor man alone. What if he suddenly needed attention.

James looked first at Chris and then at Marissa. "I have to go," he replied, swallowing nervously. He hadn't left the cave in weeks, and even then it was just to stretch his legs and breathe fresh air. "I'm the only one that speaks the language. If something happens, I can try and talk to them, tell them something. The rest of you would just get lynched."

That left Chris and Sun, and Sun had to show them the way. James looked back and forth between them, then down to Simon, passed out on the table.

Marissa Corrigan frowned at Chris. She wanted to be alone, and had brought Sun out of necessity. The other two were not in her plans.

“I suggest,” she recommended. “That we split up.” She looked at her watch and pointed at Chris and James. “You two should go to his work.” Marissa then pointed in the other direction. “Sun and I will go this way, to his and his father’s house.”

“Take care of him, Chris,” Sun said, looking back desperately before she left. God knew, she would not be able to. She retraced their steps she remembered so well. She knew every tree and every rock. Then, came a point where she forgot. “I think…I think we are lost,” she whispered, and looked around. All she wanted to do was find her necklace before she died. That was the only thing she wanted to do, she wanted to die with it on, and have it after this life was over. She saw a figure pass through the trees with white hair and tan skin. She swore he made eye contact with her. Baralai… she whispered, and broke out into a run, even though it was probably not the best idea. She stopped as he vanished from sight, and looked around. She saw him from behind a tree walking into the distance. She followed him, but he always seemed to be faster. “Baralai!” she called out, then stumbled into a small clearing, nearly falling as a wave of dizziness swept over here. She took a bit to get her bearings. Then she saw it.

She saw where they had scuffled. There was blood on the ground; and there was her necklace. She picked it up, and put it around her neck, and held it tightly. She breathed in deeply. It was just her mind playing tricks on her, but if that was true, why did he lead her here? She blinked several times, then felt as if she were to pass out. Somehow, she managed to keep her ground, clutching her necklace with her eyes firmly fixed on the ground which she felt to be moving.

“Finally, I’ve found you,” she heard a familiar voice then felt a pinch in her neck. She reached up to grab the dart which had penetrated her skin and threw it on the ground. If she were more coherent, she would have known what was in it. She turned and faced Marissa, who turned to run. Sun fell to her knees, and then to the ground. It wouldn’t be the internal bleeding that killed her; it would be them. Her vision faded, and then her consciousness.

Marissa was not fast enough to avoid the two darts which pierced her back, and brought her down as quickly as they had Sun, onto a thorn bush.

James was just in time to see the two of them hit the ground ahead of him, and he stopped in his tracks, diving behind a tree and a bush, hoping he had not been noticed. He hadn't seen the darts, he had just seen Sun fall, Marissa run, and then Marissa fall as well. He peered out above the bush, watching the clearing, terrified out of his wits, trying to see what happened to the two women. He knew he was no match for their invisible assailant, and just hoped he could escape, get back to the cave. To warn the others. To see his family again.

Were the Vespians onto them? It was the only explanation he could think of.

Marissa blinked once, twice, three times before she opened her eyes. The room she was in was bright, far too bright and far too modern for the Vespians. Her head throbbed, but she soon realized that she could not rub it, for her arms and legs were tied to the chair she was sitting in.

She shifted her head to the right, before turning to the left and seeing Sun, still unconscious. Sun was similarly fastened to another chair nearby with metal chains, but it was what she saw beyond Sun that caught her attention. Slowly, Sun opened her eyes, but Marissa noticed not.

To their left were shelves, shelves upon shelves and going back as far as she could see. On the shelves were vials, approximately five inches tall and an inch in diameter, which were filled with a deep red liquid. Is that blood?

“Don’t worry,” a male voice said. Marissa recognized it but could not see where it was coming from, nor could she remember where she had heard it before. “We gave it to you both while you were asleep. It’s quite an unpleasant injection to take, but the pain subsides within minutes as it hits your bloodstream.”

“What did you give us?” Marissa asked, trying to break free but to no avail. The man just laughed, still not showing himself to the two women. Marissa stared at the vials, her eyes wide with fear.

“They won’t find you now,” the man said as he stepped out from the shadows. Marissa’s mouth dropped, her head spinning. She almost felt sick. “You’re no different than we are…”

“English…” she muttered, feeling as if she was going to pass out. “English…”

Fred did nothing but laugh at her reaction, shaking his head with a malevolent grin wide across his mouth. In his hand, he held up George’s mini PADD, which George had left and Fred had smashed underfoot.

“We’ve been watching you,” Fred sneered, as Jim stepped out as well, standing behind him, the same wicked smile plastered to his face.

Sun opened her eyes wide. She was scared. Far more scared than she had ever been in her entire life. She didn’t understand what was going on. Sun remembered Jim well. She hadn’t even touched him and he had knocked her unconscious in one blow. All fear soon dissipated. She was going to die anyway, what was the difference? “Why?” Sun asked quietly, her body was to weak to stir. It was a simply question to be sure. She looked at Fred with her impossibly blue eyes; a freak of nature, and questioned him. Sun had always been the quiet girl, the one in the corner who some people noticed but nobody talked to. It wasn’t until recently she’d let herself be more open to people.

“How long have I been out for?” she questioned.

“Not long,” Jim replied instead of Fred, tilting his head sideways to admire his handiwork on Sun’s cheek. He frowned, visually angry. “How long was I?”

“We did nothing to you!” Marissa screamed, thrashing about in her chair. “We did no harm!”

“Oh but you tried,” Fred replied, restraining Jim from replying in anger. “That’s why you’re here is it not? To find a way to detect us?”

“N-no…” Marissa replied. She stopped moving, remembering Fred’s face on her monitor, his eyes staring straight into the camera. He had seen her all along, knew she was there since George gave them away. “We tried to find out how you stayed hidden…we wanted nothing to do with you…”

“But by finding how we stayed hidden,” Fred said, his face twisting with disgust. “You would reveal our hiding spot, would you not?” He pulled up a chair, placing it right before Marissa and sitting down as Jim stared at Sun.

“We already know that you’re hear, Fred,” Marissa replied. She instantly caught what she had said.

“Fred?” Fred asked, laughing to himself. He pointed to Jim. “And who is he?”

“Jim,” Marissa replied, embarrassed. Fred laughed, shaking his head. Quickly, his mood turned serious.

“We’ve been here for years,” Fred began. “Just as long as your beloved ‘Empire.’ We choose to live a simple life, and we will do anything to preserve a lifestyle which we love so. That’s the reason for the serum,” Fred held up one of the vials that were on the shelves in his hand. “To keep people like you out. One shot, one vial, and you’ll never be found by technology again.”

“And we?” Marissa asked.

“You don’t listen well do you?” Fred asked in response. “Both of you have been injected.”

“Why?” Marissa asked, shaking her head, her voice rising once again. This can’t be happening… Fred held up the broken mini PADD once again.

“When we knew you were here,” Fred replied. He sniffed, almost as if he was going to cry. Anger quickly rushed to take the place of sadness. “We knew that it was over. Our lifestyle…preserved for a thousand years…ruined in a matter of months. We took steps, made sacrifices…”

“Sacrifices?” Marissa asked.

“We’re not about to sit back as your Empire ruins our lives without any consequence to their own,” Fred said, standing and hurling the vial onto the ground. It shattered, spraying the liquid onto the floor. He stood beside Jim, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s time you people learn the price for meddling into the lives of others. If you stick your hand where it does not belong, there’s a chance it will be bitten off…”

“See there was a difference between you and I,” Sun whispered softly. “I just wanted to see him before I died. It’s why I…” She sighed softly. “But since you have taken what I wanted most away from me, how do you stay hidden? I want to know before I die. I want to know the answer to the puzzle if I cannot see the ones I cherish most.” she whispered softly, her eyes glassy, as if she were to cry, but she did not. Her silken auburn hair fell in front of her face. How badly she wanted to sweep it out of the way. With her hands bound she could do no such thing. She also could not look at the tattoo on her wrist nor the pendent of the necklace around her neck. This was quite the setting to die in.

She looked at Marissa's face. "You think I would have told you of all people that I was dying?" She said in a retort to Marissa. She didn't like that woman, not since the first night.

En Route to Vespia
From the ISS Tyrant

The dropship shook mildly with the turbulence upon reentry. However, neither scientist Steven Bradford nor Commander Ramza Gabranth noticed. Seated across from each other, neither of their glares shifted.

“Father was no traitor,” Steven muttered at last, breaking the silence.

“Easy for you to say,” Gabranth snapped in reply.

“He was murdered, Eric!” Steven exclaimed. “Shot in our home! How can you talk about him this way?”

“He got what he deserved!” Gabranth said, frowning and shaking his head. “After mom died…”

“He became a criminal,” Steven replied. “I know that…”

“He was always a criminal!” Gabranth corrected. “You were naïve then because you were young. Why are you now?”

“He did what he had to so that he could provide for us,” Steven said, defending his father.

“I don’t fault him for that,” Gabranth said. “I fault him for his betrayal.” Gabranth closed his eyes, as if he were retreating back to those days so long ago. “And I fault you for standing by him.”

“I couldn’t run away like you did,” Steven shot back. “I couldn’t pretend to be someone else.”

“It was all I could do to not have us branded as traitors as well,” Gabranth said, shaking his head.

“And I was all alone,” Steven muttered. Gabranth merely stared at him in response.

The dropship touched down on Vespian soil shortly after, and Gabranth led Steven out of the side door. At the entrance to the cave, Steven typed in his password and the door opened before him. He entered the cave, but stopped and turned his head.

“Here’s to another ten years?” He asked, a sad smile crossing his face.

Gabranth didn’t have time to respond. That second, the dropship exploded in a brilliant ball of fire, sending shrapnel through the woods and throwing Gabranth and Steven into the cave. Steven scrambled to his feet, running to the door to lock it, but the controls had been fried. Out the door, running through the woods, were all sorts of men with knives.

“Goddamnit!” Gabranth shouted, pulling his pistol from his jacket and readying himself. Steven grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the second door.

“We need to get inside!” Steven shouted, typing his code into the next door to the cave. It opened, and he ran inside to close it.

Commander Gabranth fired his phased pistol at the Vespians, knocking three down with perfectly placed shots before backing into the lab.

James had tried to make it back to the cave, to warn the others. But, after minutes of waiting, he had set out back to the cave, slowly and cautiously, and had found his path blocked by a Vespian, holding something in his hand. He couldn't tell what, but knew it was a weapon of some sort. He altered his course to go around the man, only to find another one ahead of him, and had to alter his course again. By this point he was headed straight for the village, but never managed to find a clear path back to the cave, which they had made secluded for a reason.

He came out of the edge of the woods, within sight of the village, and was slightly panicked. He ran for cover, hiding behind a bush to avoid being seen, but he was wide open to anyone looking from the forest. He didn't want to die, but getting to the cave was no longer an option. It seemed the Vespians were onto them. There was no other explanation for why they would be out in full force in the forest at night with weapons.

He began to sneak down into the village. With the Vespians gone, he could maybe make it into one of their houses, where he would be concealed from his pursuers and people in the village. On the edge of town, as he knew it would be, was Susie and Harry's house, and he made a beeline for there. Harry would be out in the posse, and Susie and the kids would probably be somewhere else. Nervous, and breathing hard, trying to avoid being noticed in the early morning light, he snuck through the wooden fence and into Susie's backyard, latching the door behind him with a quiet click, and crouching down behind it. He breathed a sigh of relief. One part was over with. But every step he took took him farther away from the cave, and from safety.

Marissa closed her eyes, turning away from Sun. She had betrayed them all, and for what? Money? Stopping violence? Now, neither was going to be achieved. Fred rounded on Sun.

“There’s no hiding us anymore,” Fred said, sneering at the young woman before her. “So there’s no use hiding anything about us either. You will find,” he said, laughing. “that ultimately, we’re hardly as primitive as you’d imagine.”

"Yes, I got that a while ago, before you kidnapped me, but you didn't answer my question. I need to know the formulas of the compounds or see the people I care about or I really can't die happy." She sighed softly. "I get it that your different, that you aren't as 'primitive' as we thought you were, but honestly, where are you getting this information from? I was never one to call you primitive." She sighed softly, this was getting no where. She wanted Baralai to be there, to hold her hand, so that she could cry for what she was loosing, but he wasn't here, and there was no one to hold her hand.

She coughed, and when she did there was blood spattered across her lips. She spat on the ground to get it out of her mouth. The brilliant young chemist reduced to this. What the hell was inside of her? She began working at her restraints, even if it would be no use, if she didn't try she could never have the peace she wanted.

"Why'd you take me?" she followed up on her questions. "The only reason I was out there was to get my necklace...and if you aren't as primitive as we supposedly thought you were, why'd you hit me Jim? I didn't even take a swing at you. Why'd you hit me?"

“You’re lucky that’s all you got after what you did to me!” Jim snapped, backhanding Sun across the face. Fred, obviously the leader of the two, forcefully pulled him back and whispered something into his ear. Jim then left the room.

“I apologize,” He said, shaking his head. “We are no barbarians. However,” he said, his wicked smile returning as he stared at Marissa. “I’m sure you know that there are bad apples in every society.”

Marissa’s heart sank. Even Fred knew the mess she had made, the person she had become. Fred turned to stare at the vials of serum before turning back to Sun.

“It is embarrassing to be sure,” Fred told her. “But I am afraid that even I do not know the composition of the serum. It was mass produced, centuries ago, and the formula has been lost in time.” He turned back to the shelves. “Our supplies have been slowly dwindling…but I suppose none of that matters anymore.”

Fred seemed sad, honestly crushed. It didn’t make Marissa feel any better. He wasn’t acting rationally; he was acting under desperation, making him nearly impossible to predict. Sun had questioned him well, but his answers had been vague, his words fueled by revenge. His own goal, it seemed, was to not go down sitting idle.

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

“General!” Colonel William Sharp shouted, bursting into Valkare’s office. His expression was one of shock. “The dropship has been…destroyed…” Valkare instantly stood from his chair and walked to the colonel, grabbing him by the shoulders to steady him.

“Commander Gabranth?” General Valkare asked. Sharp nodded, “yes.”

“We scanned for him immediately after the dropship went down,” Sharp replied. “Him and Mr. Bradford managed to escape.” Valkare relaxed, a weight instantly lifted from his shoulder. “However, the pilot did not make it,” Sharp said, shaking his head. The pilot had been an old drinking buddy of his from the war. “And our scans show that Ms. Corrigan and another scientist have died as well.”

Taking a few steps back, General Valkare sat down in a chair for visitors to his office. Squeezing his eyes closed as tightly as he could, he rubbed his temples with his hands. This had become far too complex for a simple expedition. Imperial citizens were under attack, an Imperial military craft has been destroyed, and as the Commander in Chief of the Imperial Military as well as the leader of the Imperial Marines, Valkare had a duty to uphold. The cause for the Vespian’s ability, he thought as he cursed loudly, would go undiscovered.

“Inform the Emperor, Colonel Sharp, and prepare your men,” Valkare said, standing and readying himself. He walked over to his desk, staring out his window to the planet he was about to storm. “We’re landing on Vespia.”

Sun seemed pissed off, and the backhanding, while it hurt, only gave fuel to Sun's legendary fire as Chris often referred to it. She had a sharp tongue to be sure. "You don't KNOW?" she started laughing. "If you let me take a look I should be able to figure it out. That is, if you want more of this stuff I can synthesize more with the proper equipment...oh but wait...I have about sixty minutes left," she looked at him intensely. Those eyes of hers seemed to swirl with fire. “What do you plan to do with us, honestly? Personally I want to go back and see the people I love before my time on this earth is up. But, I don’t think you’ll let me, so why?” She wracked her brain. She wanted answers. The answer to her puzzle was right there too.

“Tell me, those compounds to me; the four remaining that I couldn’t figure out…tell me, if you would know how they react to my blood. I have cells in my body that consume parts of the cells they interact with, which can also be triggered by a viral infection. If you stain my blood with fluorescent dye to stain these cells, you can literally watch the VGC cells consume membranes and outer surfaces of various foreign materials. I contracted the VGC cells as many people in my nation do when I was a child. They can be harmful but with a vaccine that keeps them in a dormant phase in there secondary structure, they imply float through the blood with the T-cells. However, there can be rare occasions when a foreign body makes its way into the body that will change the VGC cells into their active tertiary form. I suppose cell isn’t really the right word to describe them. Try…something similar to a complex active protein. Yes, that will do.”

She continued with a glint in her eyes. This was her field. “These VGC proteins will cannibalize and break apart foreign materials before the antibodies from the vaccine are produced to restrict the VGC proteins back to their secondary or primary structures. Another interesting study conducted in my lab back home was that VGC proteins are very picky eaters. Although they will destroy almost any cell, they prefer to consume proteins and other chemicals over a cell itself. Your compounds are flowing through my blood right now. Now listen closely here, this is where it gets good. Tetrapyridophenazine Ruthenium is one of those compounds. Its normally found in a bipyridophenazine form but somehow your ancestors managed to combine two bis into a tetra. This is a mirror optical isomer of another compound. These optical isomers reflect light a different way and are mirror images of each other if you were to construct a model. Here’s the best part; the VGC proteins need an optical isomer with nitrogen and a hydroxyl bond in it to bind to their active sight to trigger the change in conformation to an active form. And guess what? Tetrapyridophenazine Ruthenium just happens to have a nitrogen and a hydroxyl bond connected. So now that the VGC proteins are in their active phase, there is really nothing to stop them from cleaning out my blood of your injections once the antibodies are produced.”

“So now, with that being said…let me go.” Her eyes burned with fire. “Or your going to have a whole mess on your hands when they realize the dying girl’s signals show up. And It’s not like they won’t be looking for me. I know one man in there who would do just about anything to get to me; and will already be searching. He will already have the machina up and running to find me. He’s already on his way.” Sun swallowed, her cheek still red. She felt the coldness of the chain around her neck. If she were forced to; she had the capacity deep within her to reproduce this stuff for them, but she refused to. Not until she got to go back. Besides, there was less than an hour left anyway.

James opened the door cautiously, glad it did not squeak, and stepped forward into the house. If anyone confronted him, he knew it was over. He could overcome them temporarily, but there were many more of them than of him. He stepped forward into the kitchen, glad to find it empty, and looked around, seizing a large carving knife from the counter. Devoid of any advanced weaponry, he thought it better than nothing as he advanced cautiously through the house.

It was almost entirely empty. He could hear no noise, and thought it possible that either they were out or they were hiding. Maybe Harry had had them leave, fearing retribution if they failed at the cave.

He headed upstairs, determined to make sure the house was empty, but as he entered one of the rooms he suddenly discovered Jane, Susie and Harry's oldest daughter, lying on her bed. She looked up as he entered, smiling and evidently expecting him to be one of her family members. Instead it was a manic man with a knife. She leapt up to her feet, her eyes wide with terror. James almost screamed.

"Wait!" he shouted in Vespian. "Please don't shout. Your parents, they're ... they're killing us." He dropped the knife to his side.

"What are you talking about?"

"There are a group of us ... living in the woods," he improvised, "and your people are entering the woods now to kill us. They chased me here." He was playing off her natural liberalism, her desire to help people, to avoid conflict. "Please," he said sadly. "Please... hide me."

She looked more than hesitant. "Why do you talk so strangely?" she asked.

"We speak different languages. I learned yours and it was difficult. I am bad at speaking it."

She still looked frightened, but he turned to leave. "I am sorry. I should not have come here. I will return to my people."

"Wait," she called out, then averted her eyes from his as he turned around. "I will help you. My people are bad, wrong. They act the way people should not act. It's hard to explain in words that you would understand if your grasp of the language is lacking. I want to help you. My father has been talking about going after the people in the woods, about killing them, about a glorious last stand. I'm nervous. I don't want to die."

James' eyes widened as he heard and understood snippets of what she said. "They knew?" he said aloud in English. "I'm sorry. They knew? before today?"

"He's been talking about it for several days," Jane responded glumly. A noise, footsteps from downstairs, alerted her to someone else's presence, and she grabbed James' hand, pulling him towards her bed and throwing the covers back. "Under the bed," she hissed. He obeyed her immediately, taking the knife with him in case she was setting himself up for a trap. She dropped the covers down off the side of the bed until they touched the floor, and sat down on it. Springs from the mattress pushed down into James' head uncomfortably, but he gritted his teeth and dealt with it.

"Jane, what are you doing?" came the voice of Susie.

"Nothing, Mother, just thinking."

"About boys?"

"Not really."

"I always thought about boys when I was your age."

"Thank you, Mother. I didn't need to know that." Jane sounded bored. She was a good actor. If I ever get out of this, James thought to himself, I'm recommending her for acting school.

"I'm making a late breakfast if you want some."

"Maybe later, Mother. I'm hardly awake yet."

"Suit yourself." Susie retreated. James breathed a sigh of relief. He had dodged another bullet. How long he could keep it up, he had no idea.

Fred listened to what Sun had to say, utterly confused until the end. That much he understood, although the suspicion he felt of her lying to simply be released couldn’t be ignored. That being said, if what she referred to was true, it could force him to alter his plans. Luckily, he didn’t have to decide.

They three of them were, in fact, in an underground bunker, and a shallow bunker at that. As Imperial dropships landed across the planet from the fleet above, the ground shook with force of it. Fred looked around, steadying himself as the bunker shook violently. The vials were beginning to fall from the shelves.

“You have to save those!” Marissa shrieked, her voice vibrating with the shaking walls, but Fred didn’t. He merely stared at them, watching them fall. Fred smiled his first sincere smile of the day.

“Young lady,” he said, looking at Sun. “It appears that they come for you already…so I hope that for both of your sake that your cells do what you claim they can do. Otherwise you’ll be here for quite some time.” Jim ran back into the room, but Fred only turned his head to nod in response. Satisfied, Jim left once again. “As for me, I must make my leave. I have a family to defend, after all.”

And with that, Fred left Sun and Marissa alone. He couldn’t have been more content with the situation at hand. The Imperials were, unknowingly, destroying the very thing they sought. The irony of it all was astounding.

“I’ll kill you, Fred…you uncivilized fuck,” she called after him with rage in her eyes, and then simmered as he disappeared from sight. “Ya ne znayu shto…” she uttered in Russian as they were left alone. She had little time left. With her hand tied to the chair, it was little use to undo them, but she managed to start working at her boots. They were comfortable; not the heels she normally wore. She slipped them off; and with them the binds. She always wore comfortable shoes big. When you have to wear heels twenty four seven, you need some relaxation after that. She stood up, and drove the chair into the wall. It chaffed her wrists but her restraints were loosened enough to slip out of them. She felt dizzy again, as if she were to pass out. She felt herself falling forward, towards the ground.

She felt an arm wrap around her stomach, and lift her up. The beach, they were on the beach. She turned around to face the grinning character with the short white hair and tan skin which fit his youthful features so well. “Baralai…’ she whispered softly.
“Who else is going to catch you when you fall, Sun, eh?” he smiled, and walked away from her.

“All this walking away, running from me. Where are you Baralai?”

“But every time you follow me, you get what you need. I have to get back to my own journey. Try and stay alive, won’t you? I’d hate to see that pretty face of yours in a coffin.” He grinned, and she tilted her head as she watched him walk away.

She was on her feet, God knows how. She gripped the chain around her neck then stared at Marissa. To untie, or not to untie…tis the question. She slapped Marissa across the face, and then started to untie her. “You fucking bitch. If I didn’t have any humanity I would let you die here. Your lucky I’m the only one whose going to die today.” She replied. She didn’t know where they were…or how to get back. The only thing they could do was wait there until someone came. She picked up electrical tape from the table that had been used on them and started taping her knuckles up. If Fred or Jim entered that room again, she was going to give them the beating they deserved. Of course, for now…they were stuck there; the half-hour left of her life slowly draining away.

Marissa rubbed her cheek. The slap stung, but she deserved it. Besides, something else was on her mind, and it was not making her happy.

“All of it…” she muttered, knocking back the first set of shelves to look at the second. Those vials were broken as well. “All of it’s lost…” She reached down, touching the serum with her hands as it rapidly evaporated off the floor. As if she were possessed, Marissa ripped down empty shelf after empty shelf before collapsing in a heap on the floor, tears streaming from her eyes.

It had been done. The Emperor had come to her as she worked over visual comm to confirm his identity, offering her money and a bit of Imperial persuasion for her to sabotage the research. She had agreed, tampering with data and information, any and all that she could find, so that there would be no way of discovering what the secret, the secret which she hadn’t even known, was.

Instantly Marissa had regretted it, and she had run to George, trying to convince him to turn the research over to the government. She didn’t want them to know, didn’t want Steven to know, and all she had hoped for was to go home. They would have accepted another job probably less than a month later, a far more simple and far less controversial project. They would have been fine, and now here she was, trapped in a foreign bunker, sitting in a pool of evaporating serum and broken glass.

James was staring out the window, trying to hide his profile as much as he could. Jane was guarding the door, making sure no one would walk in on him, and he was trying to figure out what was going on. Separated from the others, and with no comm equipment on him, he was isolated and had no idea why he could see Imperial dropships in the sky, several landing outside of town, making the ground rumble. Then he saw the man. His blood began to rise as he saw Jim, suddenly on the ground outside, making his way towards the centre of town. He glared at the man from the window, but he was up two stories and couldn't tell why Jim was here or what he was doing.

Suddenly thunderous footsteps sounded on the stairs. James' head snapped around to face the door, to see Jane's panicked face. "Go!" she hissed, and he needed no further bidding. Even as the door started to open and Susie started to rush in, James was leapfrogging the windowsill and landing on the roof of the first story, running to the edge and jumping off, sprinting down the street away from the house, and inadvertently right past Jim, albeit on the other side of the street. He turned down a side street, ducked into a space between two houses, and crouched down behind a shed to catch his breath. He hoped people had merely mistaken him for someone running from the dropships, and had not taken notice of his vastly different clothes.

He opened the shed and looked inside. Garden tools. He hurriedly grabbed a shovel and turned back outside, still breathing hard, and began walking. Someone who had seen him turned the corner and James didn't hesitate for a second as he smashed the flat end of the shovel blade into the man's face. he collapsed, blood streaming from his forehead, unconscious, and James carried on. Sun and Marissa were missing or dead, and he was going to find them. He owed to himself, to everyone, and to Simon.


*


Simon woke up with a start. He could hear gunfire, and tried to sit up too fast. His head protested violently, and he swore loudly, clutching his temple, where he could feel the sticky blood clotting the bandage there. Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the table and stepped onto the floor, overcoming his dizziness with willpower. The lab was empty, his entire body hurt, and he could feel bandages covering many parts of his body. It hurt extra to move his jaw, but at least he could vaguely hear again. The ringing had subsided somewhat in his right ear, and the left was no longer completely deaf. He ran as fast as he could towards the exit, where he could see Steven and a man in a military getup resisting an attack by a crowd of angry, armed Vespians.

Simon suddenly found himself wishing there was a back exit to the Cave.

"You fucking bitch. You don't care about life. All you care about is making your name for yourself and research..." Sun shouted at her. “You betrayed all of us. You are the reason I’m dying right now.” She snapped at her, then sunk down onto the floor. She felt dizzy; and this time no one caught her. She passed out on the ground; unconscious.

As the door slammed shut, locking electronically, Steven and Gabranth turned to see Simon, bloody and battered, standing before them.

“Simon!” Steven exclaimed, surprised the man was awake, let alone standing. Gabranth quickly grabbed his younger brother by the arm, spinning him around.

“What…the fuck…is going on here?” Commander Gabranth demanded of his brother. He pointed towards the door, waving his hands wildly. The Vespians were banging on the reinforced metal repetitively.

“I have no clue,” Steven said, pulling up a seat and collapsing into it. He hadn’t slept for nearly two days and was beyond exhausted. “All this just went to hell in less than twenty-four hours. I have no clue what’s going on.” He noticed that his brother’s uniform was bloody. “Eric…er…Ram-za,” Steven said, extending the pronounciation of his brother’s chosen first name to show how weird it was for him to say it. Still, for whatever reason, he wanted to make an attempt. “You’re hurt.”

“Hmph,” Gabranth grunted, following his brother’s gaze to his left upper arm. A piece of the dropship had sliced it deep and it was bleeding well. He flexed his tricept, testing it, but wincing a bit as the blood spit out of the wound.

“I can sew it up,” Steven told him. Nodding, Gabranth removed his jacked and shirt, revealing his ripped, well developed upper body. As he grabbed the stitches, Steven was green with envy.

Gabranth didn’t even react as his brother stitched him up, and Steven noticed that his brother had various other scars on his body as well. Steven shuddered to think of how he had gotten them in his years of military service. As Steven bandaged the wound, Gabranth took off his boots.

“Do you have any clothes I can borrow?” Gabranth asked. “The only useful thing I have are my boots.”

Steven nodded, running back to the bedrooms. On the way to his own, he saw that Marissa’s door was open. Looking in, he saw what was on her floor, and instantly knew what she was doing. He quickly grabbed his clothes for his brother and ran out, just in time to see the door to the cave open before them. Steven froze in anticipation.

“Commander?” a metallic voice asked as the dust outside cleared. Various soldiers, in ODIN Battle Armor, walked into the lab. Commander Gabranth turned around, nodding to his men.

“Good job, Lieutenant,” Gabranth. “Your timing is superb.”

“We have a suit for you,” Gabranth’s lieutenant announced, referring to the ODIN armor. Looking around, he continued. “And for you two as well, if you want…”

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
In Vespian Space

“Approximately 1/64th of the planet is now confirmed to be under Imperial control, sir,” Colonel William Sharp reported over the visual comm. He was standing in a town square, wearing full armor. “Troop movement has been swift, with minimal resistance. Checkpoints are being established throughout Vespia. Casualties are light.”

“Good,” General Valkare nodded from the bridge of the Tyrant. “Keep me informed.”

“Will do, sir,” the Colonel replied. “Sharp out.” The Colonel’s face disappeared from the main viewscreen, and in its place was that of the Emperor.

“Well done, General,” Emperor Bivens said, having heard the Colonel’s report. Valkare frowned in response. “Want to be down there with them again?” Bivens asked. That was consistently General Valkare’s biggest complaint. He was a soldier, not a desk jockey. However, this time, that was not the case.

“I didn’t want this to happen,” Valkare replied. “I only did what had to be done.”

“Listen, Jack,” Bivens said. “They left you no choice. I read the report. You’ve been a stronger man than me for trying to hold out as long as you did. It takes a lot to stand up to an Emperor.” Valkare didn’t smile proudly. He had stood up to Bivens numerous times over the past decade. Besides, his mind was on other things.

“The Vespian’s ability seems all but lost now,” Valkare complained, shaking his head in disappointment. Bivens’ face grew serious.

“I want to see you in your ready room,” the Emperor declared. Valkare obliged. Within minutes the General was in his office, the door locked behind him. “General this is privileged information of the highest security level.” Valkare nodded. He was one of three men in the Empire with such a security level, the Emperor being another.

“Don’t tell me you already have it,” Valkare muttered sarcastically. If I’ve been sitting here in my ship for two months for absolutely no reason…

“Not quite,” Bivens said. He paused, unsure of how to say the next line. “However,” He figured to just be frank. “We gave it to them.”

“Son of a bitch,” Valkare muttered without raising his voice.

“It was in an Emperor’s log from a millennium ago,” Bivens continued, shaking his head. “Apparently a predecessor of mine thought he would help the Vespian stay secluded.”

“Then why don’t you want it?” Valkare asked. He shook his head, changing his question. “Wait…why don’t we already have it?”

“Because you and I fought a war to destroy it,” Bivens replied. Valkare stared at the Emperor’s face in disbelief.

“NiMBUS isn’t that old,” he said finally. Bivens nodded in agreement.

“Predecessors of them are,” the Emperor said. “NiMBUS was hardly the only company in the history of the Empire to experiment with biogenetic research.” He frowned, thinking to the horrors he had seen a decade ago. “They just took it to a…different level.”

“So this is a serum?” Valkare asked.

“Precisely,” Bivens replied, his expression grave. “And it needs to be destroyed.”

“But how is it dangerous?” Valkare questioned, still not understanding completely.

“Jack it doesn’t mask lifesigns,” Bivens replied. “It destroys them…somehow…and they never return. No one knows how it works anymore, but the Empire’s used it as a weapon before.” Valkare’s look of disbelief returned. “Altered just a bit, it can easily be used to not only destroy lifesigns, but to destroy life itself.”

Simon, steadying himself with a hand on the wall, nodded to the soldier, trying his best not to throw up. "Give it to me," he said, his voice low and gravelly, and he suddenly regretted saying it. It hurt his jaw to talk.

Before they could begin getting changed, though, he turned to Steven. He didn't know the man had been taken away by the soldiers, and he demanded of him a simple question. "Where's Sun?" And Jim too, so I can kill the fucker. But Sun first. Sun first... His thinking was still scrambled from the concussion, but he could think straight enough to know that anyone left in the cave would be at the door by that point, and that she wasn't. "Where is she?"


*


James took a deep breath and took off running, straight across the street. He recalled reading an old war novel once in which the protagonist, a veteran of the Austrian cavalry from Earth's World War One, had detailed that machine gunners would see the first person running across a street and shoot the second. Knowing Imperial troops were there with heavy firepower, he anticipated being shot at, and was glad there was no one running in front of him. They would not be able to tell him from a Vespian at such range. Not thirty minutes before, he would have quaked with fear at this. Now, he took a breath and sprinted across the street. A burst of rifle fire met him and he instinctively sped up, diving behind cover on the other side of the street, near where he had seen Jim appear from.

Clutching his shovel in his right hand, he advanced cautiously down the side of the building. Jim was the one that had escaped. Odds were, he had been where Sun and Marissa were now. Of course, finding it would be another issue. It could have been anywhere in town or out of it. He was clutching at straws, but a slim chance was better than no chance.

Steven watched Gabranth effortlessly put on the armor, staring at his brother in awe and trying to follow. For Steven, however, far more effort was required. Ultimately, Gabranth’s lieutenant helped him complete getting dressed. Steven didn’t feel more powerful in the ODIN Battle Armor, as he should have. The armor merely made him feel all the more weak.

“I…” Steven replied to Simon before he put his helmet on. Steven looked around, neither Sun nor James were in sight, and he had not seen them when he had ran back into the living areas. Suddenly, Steven knew where they had gone. “Marissa and James are gone too,” Steven told Simon. “And Marissa’s gun is gone. In all my years, I’ve never even seen her pull it out, let alone use it. I…” he shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. Sun was in no condition to leave. Then again, neither was Simon, but these were desperate times. “I think they went after Jim.”

"Damnit," Simon replied, awkwardly pulling on the second arm of the body armour. "I wanted to kill him myself." He looked around, at someone, and raised his voice slightly, grimacing through the pain it took to speak. "they'll show up on scanners, they're not Vespians. Does anyone here have a scanner we can use to ... ngh ... search the surrounding area for anyone missing from the science team? There's nobody here and it's freaking me out a bit."

We find them, we find Sun, we find Jim, we save Sun, I kill Jim. Good plan.

Gabranth’s lieutenant exchanged looks with one of his men before saying something to Commander Gabranth over a private comm. Gabranth nodded, turning to Simon, and if Simon could have seen his expression through the helmet, it would have been most grave.

“It seems that these people you speak of,” Gabranth began. “Marissa and Sun…no longer appear on sensors. I don’t believe it to be beyond the realm of possibility that they are possibly being held somewhere and have the same advantage over scanners that the Vespians do, however,” he paused. “I believe you may have to accept the greater possibility of their death.”

Steven awkwardly walked over to a chair and sat in it, the metal frame bending under the weight of the armor. Gabranth’s information had nearly floored him. Dead? he asked himself, suddenly feeling remorse for Marissa. Dead?

If Simon had not been supported by the armour, he may well have collapsed. As it was, he simply stood there and tried to swallow nothing. "A - are you sure?" he asked, his mouth dry, despite knowing it was a stupid question. He had to be sure. He found himself devoid of emotion. Regret, sadness, sorrow, loss - most of all failure. He had failed to protect Sun. If he had caught Jim earlier, if he hadn't opened the door, if he had beaten him in the fight, if he had been conscious enough to go with her on her ill-fated journey, wherever it was to ... it was his fault. They were both dead and it was his fault. He tried to swallow again, failed, and remembered the third missing link.

"What - what about James?" he asked in a nearly-monotone voice. "Can you find him?" He hoped at least James was still alive, and his failure was not completed in such a tragic manner.

“We’ve been tracking this James for some time,” Gabranth’s lieutenant replied. “He seems to be purposefully avoiding our troopers.”

“At any rate,” Commander Gabranth said. “We should be moving out. They have this place targeted, and we cannot allow them to find and use the technology within. Upon my signal, the Tyrant will destroy it from space.”

Steven shuddered as Gabranth described the plan. For a starship to be able to annihilate a lab cut into the side of a mountain was frightening to say the least. When his brother first went to the Orion Military Academy, shortly after the Civil War had come to its conclusion, Steven had considered joining him, but ultimately decided against it. He had considered science much safer and far easier on the body.

Now, dressed in battle armor and preparing to walk into a warzone and walk away from a lab set to be destroyed from space, he wasn’t sure.

"Commander," Simon asked, his mouth still dry, "could we have more time? Could we have time to get tings out of here?" His voice was devoid of emotion. "Or are they that close that we couldn't get Chris back here and get out with some of our things? Personal things?" he thought about what the man had said, and through the biting pain in his jaw and in his brain he asked another question. "Do you think James could be avoiding your troopers because he's been captured?"

"If he's been captured he put up a fight," one of the troopers replied. "One of our squads found a Vespian with his face smashed in, and not by one of us."

Under other circumstances Simon would have laughed at his timid friend being the chief suspect in a face-smashing, but he couldn't see the humour in the situation now. We should go. Now. Fast. With vehicles.

“Sir,” the Lieutenant said after responding to Simon’s questioning on James. “I suggest that we leave now. Our dropships are waiting outside for transport.” Gabranth nodded.

“If there’s anything you want,” Gabranth said. “I’d suggest you get it now.”

As awkwardly as the rest of them, Chris ran to his room to grab COW. Within moments, he had returned.

“When we load up I’ll give the signal,” Gabranth said. “From that point on you’re with me, under my commander, following my orders. Understand?”

Steven reluctantly agreed.

Simon hurried through the cave, making a beeline for James' room. He hurried in, using his friend's keycode, and grabbed the picture off the wall, of James' girlfriend and child. He didn't care about any of the stuff in his room, though if they had time he would have saved it, and he knew James felt the same. The picture, though, was special. He used the time to try and get familiar with the power armour and failed fairly badly. He could walk, but that was about it, and even that was done with a clumsy gait.

He arrived back at the entrance, trying to avoid talking, and simply nodded to Gabranth, telling him they could go. Even such a nod could communicate so much. Time to go. Find my friend. The only one I've got left.

Commander Ramza Gabranth returned Simon’s nod with one of his own and then looked towards his brother. Their anger and bitterness, ever-present for nearly a decade, was for now, at least, subdued.

“Time to go?” Steven asked over the in-helmet comm.

“Time to go,” Commander Gabranth replied, turning and nodding towards his lieutenant. They turned to leave the cave one final time.

There were two dropships landed outside of the cave, a bit past the one which had exploded. Commander Gabranth, Steven, Simon, Chris, and a few of his men climbed into one, while Gabranth’s lieutenant and the rest of the men the lieutenant had brought boarded the other.

As they flew away, towards the town and away from the mountain, Steven couldn’t help but remember arriving a little over two months prior. It was a blustery day, and he could barely keep his papers he held in his hand. He remembered unpacking, putting everything in its spot, everything that in moments would soon be destroyed.

Over the next two months he had grown to like some of the people he found himself living and working with, and he grew to despise others, but it was, undoubtedly, an experience he would never forget. He wanted to talk to Sun and James one more time, and had much anger as he felt for her, he simply couldn’t accept that Marissa had died. They needed to talk, Steven had decided, they needed to talk about why she had done what she did, why she had done that to him.

“Gabranth sigma chi oh-six,” Commander Gabranth said over his comm.

“Confirmed, Commander,” a voice from the Tyrant replied. “On your mark.”

“Go,” Gabranth said, without hesitation. Aboard the Tyrant, high above Vespia, Valkare relayed a similar order.

The blaze of light which fell from the heavens was blinding, and it decimated the side of the mountain with nothing more than a five-second burst. Steven watched, flying away, as the lab exploded in a massive ball of fire, collapsing upon itself. Steven thought of George, dead and in the freezer cabinet. Would he be remembered? After all, of the things in the cave, there was nothing left.

“So it’s a serum?”

“Yes.”

“And if I do this for you,” Colonel Sharp said. “You’ll get me a vial of the serum?”

“I’ll give you my entire supply,” Fred replied. “I have two left. The only two left on the planet I’d assume. My wife was supposed to have twins some time ago, but she miscarried.”

“There are only two vials left?” Sharp asked. Fred couldn’t resist.

“You destroyed them in your landing,” Fred replied before muttering, “Warmongerers.”

“Where do you want to live?” the Colonel asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Fred said, shrugging. “I want me and my family, my wife and two kids, to have official papers. I want to be a citizen of the Empire. Which planet I live on, what my job is, and things like that…they don’t matter…and can always be changed.”

“That’s easier to do than you might expect,” Colonel Sharp replied. Fred smiled. He would come out of this on top after all.

“May I ask a question, Colonel?” Fred asked. Sharp nodded, “yes.” “Why is it that you will betray your people so quickly?”

“For money,” Sharp replied, his tone void of emotion. “Why is it that you will leave yours, in their ultimate time of need?”

“Survival,” Fred replied. He walked to his drawer and pulled out two red vials, handing them over to the Colonel. “A far more honorable reason.”

“We all abandoned our sense of honor for a sense of reality long ago,” Colonel Sharp muttered, putting the vials safely in a case.

“What will I be?” Fred asked, standing to leave.

“I’m thinking a construction worker,” Sharp said. Fred smiled, he always had been good with tools.

“There’s one more thing you and I both need to take care of,” Fred told the Colonel. Sharp understood, standing to leave.

"No...Sun cannot be dead. I won't believe it," Chris replied to the sudden news. He knew he should have went with her. It was another thing weight he would hold on his shoulders...he couldn't help but feel that he was a large contribution to Sun's "Death" and perhaps her sadness. He mentally kicked himself as he thought of such things and wished that he would be able to step into a time machine, step back to the time Sun and him met...to the time she loved him. Then perhaps things would be different...then perhaps they would both be happy. "She is to strong...and maybe a bit too stubborn to die," he added softly, sniffling and wincing as a result of it.

"And Marissa is with her. Sun will probably be able to keep them both safe...she gave me this broken nose quite easily," he continued, his mind wandering to Marissa. He still was unsure what exactly happened other than Sun and Simon being severly hurt, George getting killed, a native Vespian getting abducted and eventually escaped, Steve himself getting taken away only to come back in the midst of what seemed like a rescue squad. But he knew that he wouldn't leave Sun here. Nor James. Nor Marissa. Chris may have been lazy at one point, but Sun had recently taught him an important lesson. It never pays to be lazy.

Chris listened to the others talk while he put on his own armor, keeping his mouth shut for once, knowing he should pay attention to what was being said. He couldn't help but be reminded in his horrid days at boot camp...He felt a chill slide down his spine and he shivered for merely a second, before sliding into the awkward suite.

And it wasn't just awkward...it was uncomfortable. For him atleast. It felt as though he had just gained fifty or more pounds in seconds. His movements were sluggish and his arm felt soar and stiff when he attempted to move them. How the military men could move so effortlessly within them was beyond him. He carefully put on the gauntlets and spread his arms out for balance. He felt as though he may fall forward at any minute. Yet the armor kept him steady and in place. But he had to walk sometime...especially if he was to help save the others...He slowly began stepping, keeping his arms out for balance as he felt like Frankenstien's Monster, stepping heavily around the compound, getting the basic feel of the heavy suit.

As soon as he was given the green light to get whatever he needed, he stumbled and plodded to his room. COW...I cannot leave you. And a few tools for you...and... He lowered himself slowly to pick up the small robot from his desk, being very gentle so as not to destroy it with his awkward new strength. Satisfied with his robotic devices, he walked into his bedroom, his eyes immediately falling to his favorite picture of Sun and himself. "I will not leave our memories behind," he said to himself, grabbing the picture frame and instinctively trying to place it within a pocker on his figure. He sighed as he realized the suit would have no such thing and instead stacked it atop COW. He slowly bent his legs again so he can pull up the bed to get his other, rather crude, pictures of Sun from their hiding spot. As far as he knew, Sun never knew about them...and he would feel bad just to leave any thought of her alone in this building to be destroyed.

Shoot. What about her things? Chris cursed himself for forgetting so soon and rushed out of his own room and just down the hall to hers. He searched about and frowned as he realized all of the precious equipment they had would go to waste. But perhaps I should bring all her journals and photo albums? He made his way around her room, collecting whatever he could think of that may be important to her- including journals and the albums. Although he knew that the necklace was probably the most important possession of hers. He hoped she found it.

He walked out of her room with a rather decent sized mound of possessions in his arms and made his way to the others, not without stopping in front of a mirror, examing himself quickly. He was reminded of science fiction movies and the such, the armor making him look imposing and dangerous...he felt terrible for the Vespians who would have to look at this monstrosity that was his armor.

He made his way to the others and quickly evacuated with little chatter, into the shuttle to be carried off to safety. He carefully set all his gathered belongings on the seat next to him and placed his hands on either side of his helmet. He struggled with it for a few minutes before it finally hissed and he pulled it off. His hair was damp from sweat and his cheeks were a bit rosey.

"That suit is uncomfortable...the coolant system in mine doesn't seem to work so well. And...well, I guess one just needs to get used to it," he said quietly, to no one in particular. Just then, a sight as spectacular as it was horrifying blasted through the clouds and into the place he had called home for over two months. There would be nothing left...all his possessions, his equipment, his clothes...all gone. Again, for what seemed the millionth time in his life, he was left with nothing but memories.

Chris sighed and slid off his gauntlets, stretching his fingers out for a few minutes and pulling COW onto his lap. Although his little robot was nearly finished being repaired, that acid had done a bit more than he had expected. And who knows, COW may be needed to help.

Yet as he worked feverishly on his creation, he would glance up every now and then at the Imperial soldiers who had stayed with them in this shuttle. He knew most AI was banned from the Empire, but he figured his rather simple AI was legal enough. But it none the less made him nervous as he worked amongst men he didn't doubt would pounce on him should they find it wrong.

Yet as he worked on his machina, he couldn't help but think of Sun. COW was in the process of being made when he had first met her. In fact, COW was only blueprints- very basic at that. For Chris, each of COW's parts was a memory he cherished with his best friend. Each addition being an event that he wished he could relive...with their childhood chatter and innocence.

Chris' eyes began to water, but he continued to work, silently, his eyes narrowing as his mouth curled into a frown. This is all my fault...all my fault. Sun...please hang in there. I know you can't be dead.

The dropships raced by overhead, speeding over Vespians and Imperials alike. The ships rose and fell with the terrain, bending to the whims of the planet, and yet irrevocably shaping the lives of its people. Steven stared down at the figures below him and gulped, scooting himself further inside of the vessel. However, something had caught his eye, and he took one more look out of the open hatch.

“There!” Steven shouted over the roar of the engines, pointing with his finger. “That’s him! That’s Jim!”

“Jim?” Commander Gabranth asked, staring oddly at his brother.

“The Vespian,” Steven replied. “The one who killed George.”

“Land this ship now, pilot,” Gabranth ordered over the comm, pointing towards the ground. Within moments, the dropship that they were in slowly descended, the other one close behind.

Before the dropship touched the soil, Gabranth had leaped out, pistol drawn. Three other soldiers followed shortly after, but Steven, Chris, and Simon waited until the ship had landed to step out. Noticing the dropship’s descent, Jim took off in a mad sprint.

Commander Gabranth dropped to one knee, holding his pistol in both hands. Firing, they could see Jim double over before tumbling down a hill. Losing sight of the man, Gabranth ordered his men and the scientists onward. Finding James would have to wait.

Simon was out of the dropship as soon as he could in his injured state and body armour, and took off running after Jim. It was awkward at first, and all the soldiers were outpacing the three scientists easily. But as he started to get into the stride a little bit more, he was glad for it. There was no way he could have run that fast outside the armour, not with his head as it was. Despite the clumsy gait, he was very glad for the power armour. And very glad to have found Jim, as well. He swore he would kill him. It was all his fault. His fault Sun was dead. His fault.


*


James suddenly heard a thud behind him. For the last five minutes he had been running frantically, trying to avoid the Vespians and Imperials alike, and spun around spastically, and saw Jim getting to his feet. He had not noticed James, and took off running in a different direction, perpendicular to the way he had fallen, down a hill. James could hear the sounds of an Imperial dropship over the crest of the hill, and clutching his shovel to him as if it would protect him against a rifle shot, he took off after Jim. The Vespian was clutching his side and James could see blood seeping between his fingers, so his run was slower, and James could easily keep up while staying out of sight.

It was only when the Vespian entered a small outbuilding off of an abandoned farm that James registered confusion. The farm itself, nestled in the woods, seemed out of place. There was no good farmland around there, and yet it was undeniably a farm. A cylindrical silo and tractor betrayed it as such. The shed most likely only housed tools, and unless Jim was just trying to avoid capture and hope his lack of registration on sensors would not betray him, it made no sense for him to be running in there as his sanctuary.

As James followed, cautious, remembering what he had managed to do to Simon and Sun when frightened before, and imagining just what he could do to him now, frightened, injured, and trapped. Holding his shovel tightly, he shoved the door open with one hand and leaped inside.

The shed was empty. No tools hung on the walls, no windows gave it light, and the only feature was a plain metal trapdoor set into the floor. Jim was gone.

James managed to overcome his initial surprise at Jim's disappearance, and turned his attention to the door in the floor. Crouching down, he tried the handle, but it was securely bolted from the other side. He rattled it, despite knowing it was futile, and smashed the shovel against it. It didn't budge. He tried wedging the shovel into the crack and levering it open, only to find that he could barely even wedge the shovel in. Tired out, he stepped outside the shed, took off his white outershirt, and tied the arms around the shovel's handle, sticking it into the ground and sitting against the shed beside it. Hopefully the white flag would prevent any troopers from shooting him even if they didn't know who he was. He could explain when they arrived that he was a scientist, not a Vespian. As for if any Vespians found him, well, the shovel was right at hand anyway.

Sun awoke lying on the soft ground. She pushed herself up in a field of blue and violet, and golden flowers scattered amongst a sea of green grass. There was a waterfall that disappeared into nothingness, and a mist which had covered the entire area. She grabbed the necklace around her neck. She was wearing a white dress which seemed to be seamless. She walked for a few moments. There was no one else there; just the calm rushing waters of the waterfall that faded off the face of this world. She heard a whistle, which forced her to turn towards it. She ran after it, and heard it again. She changed direction slightly, and then stopped. There was no one there. As she turned around; she ran straight into Baralai.

“Time for you to wake up, girly,” he whispered softly, running one hand through her hair. “My journey is almost done, but yours is just beginning. Wake up Sun. You shouldn’t be here.”

Sun awoke on the hard ground of the shelter. Melissa was still alive; not hovered over her in worry. Sun stood up and leant against the wall. There was no dizziness. She remembered Baralai. “I find some of what you teach to be questionable because I’m used to relying on intellect.” She sighed softly. “I try to open up to what I don’t understand.” She placed her hand around the pendent of her necklace. “Because reason says I should have died three hours ago.” She cracked her knuckles. If they were to die here they would die here. She had cheated death once today. The only thing she could do was wait; and pray.

Jim stumbled into the bunker, swearing as he clutched his side. The phased pistol blast had seared part of his skin, but the rest was bleeding through his clothes. Upon his entrance, Marissa had risen to her feet.

“You…” she said, feeling for her pistol in her jacket. Her heart sank as she realized that Fred had taken it from her. “Let us out of here,” Marissa said, changing her approach. “I can get you help.”

“Stay where you are,” Jim ordered, raising a pistol with his one hand, his other still crossing his body and clutching his side. Marissa recognized the weapon instantly as her own, and also saw the pain that Jim was currently in. She looked to her side and saw that Sun had regained consciousness. Jim leaned against a wall. “I swear…if either one of you as much as makes a sound…”

* * * * *

Two handfuls of soldiers bounded onto the barn in the woods, all raising their arms on James, who was instantly overmatched. Luckily for the analyst, his peers soon followed.

“That’s James!” Steven shouted, running up to the man beside the shovel. Gabranth grunted, lowering his pistol. The rest of his men followed.

“Two birds with one stone, no doubt,” Commander Gabranth muttered. “You there,” He said to James. “What is this place?”

"I don't know," James replied simply enough, cautiously lowering his hands from where he had raised them to avoid being shot by the soldiers. "I saw Jim, he was hurt, he ran this way, and I followed him. He went in there and disappeared. There's a big metal door in the floor."

Simon didn't even say so much as hello to James, but on hearing this he simply walked through the door of the shed and looked down at the floor awkwardly in his power armour. Crouching to his knees, he reached out, trying to dig his hands into the crack there and pry the door open, the augmented strength provided by the suit helping him. James gave him a strange look. "What's gotten into him? And where are Sun and Marissa?"

Commander Gabranth quickly scanned the area for lifesigns, predictably finding none that weren’t standing before him. Still, the presence of a trapdoor was worth investigating.

“We don’t know,” Steven said, shaking his head. The voice was metallic through the helmet, but it could still be made out as Steven’s.

Gabranth ordered some of his men to go help Simon. If nothing else, he hoped this would give them some sort of clue.

* * * * *

As Jim was shifting his aim back and forth between Marissa and Sun, Marissa had been feeling for a big enough piece of glass beside her on the floor. She cut her fingers a number of times in her blind search, her eyes were focused on her captor, but finally she came across one big enough.

“Drop it,” Fred demanded, stepping out of a back room with another man who was obviously not a Vespian. They both were armed. “Get up.” Marissa did as she was told, scrambling to her feet. The Vespians grabbed Sun and Marissa, taking them to the back room as the other man kept his aim at all times. “You stand guard,” Fred told Jim, as he and the other man held Sun and Marissa at gunpoint.

Jim walked to the main room of the bunker, shutting the door to the back behind him. Quickly, he turned off the lights, diligently waiting for any intruders. He winced in pain, hoping if they came that they would be quick.

* * * * *

Commander Gabranth raised his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet. The door had been pried open, and Gabranth’s Lieutenant was to lead Steven and Simon, along with two other men, down the stairs. Gabranth and the rest of his soldiers were to post a watch with Chris and James. The rest of his body unmoving, Commander Gabranth folded his hand into a fist and pumped his arm twice. His Lieutenant descended the stairs, quickly followed by the rest.

Even as the lieutenant stepped out at the bottom of the stairs, Jim was firing already, at the glowing eyes of the lieutenant's ODIN suit. Several bullets glanced off the power armour, but as Simon's suit's night vision kicked in he saw the lieutenant suddenly collapse to the ground, screaming and clutching at his throat with the gloved hands. The screams, mixed with gurgles of blood, terrified the scientist and pointed out an obvious weakness in the armour he had trusted in. As he saw Jim there with the firearm and di not want to suffer the same fate, Simon gritted his teeth and dove at the man. Jim, terrified, fell backwards in anticipation of Simon's lunge, firing the gun uselessly into the stomach of Simon's armour. Suddenly he was on his back, Simon and the added weight of his power armour on his chest, and Simon pounded his fist into Jim's face, the added strength from the power armour smashing through bone. "Remember me, fucker?" Simon growled, even as his other fist descended and rapidly ended Jim's life. His body stopped moving, stopped struggling, and Simon started to stand up as he realized the man was dead so quickly. He had just killed someone, and he had done it out of rage, out of anger. He hadn't even anticipated the consequences, or the ramifications of such an action, he had merely acted blindly. But the man had beaten him nearly to death and killed Sun. It was ... it was wrong, but it felt so right.

Hearing the gunfire, Marissa screamed out, and was instantly pistol-whipped by Fred across the cheek. A sizable gash instantly appeared, starting to bleed.

“We need to leave,” Colonel Sharp, the ‘other man,’ said, his gun still raised at Sun.

“Agreed,” Fred said, staring at Marissa, the same cold eyes that had been recorded on video. She remembered watching the clip over and over again, unable to pull her gaze from them.

Still aiming, Fred and the Colonel sidestepped their way to the rear entrance of the bunker, but they barely made it a few steps before the door flew open and Steven burst in. He had taken his mask off, and was instantly recognized. Fred fired off a few shots with his modern weapon; forceful enough to penetrate the armor at such range, but Marissa would have none of it.

With a split second’s decision, she dove in front of Steven, wearing nothing but normal clothes, and took all three phased pulses to the midsection, falling in a bloody heap on the floor. Steven screamed, unable to think, as he fell to his knees with Marissa before him, reaching out with his armored hands to touch her one last time.

“Sharp,” Marissa whispered, staring at the face of the friend she had betrayed before her eyes quickly faded, her body going limp. Seizing the opportunity to save face in the face of Sun and Steven, and not having heard Marissa utter his name, Colonel Sharp shifted his aim to Fred, firing through the back of the Vespian’s head. Fred’s skull erupted as his body fell to the floor, brain matter spilling onto Marissa, Steven, and Sun.

“We have to get you all out of here now,” Sharp said, grabbing the metal case at his side and holstering his pistol, his loyalties as confusing to the others as the situation they were in. He turned to Sun, “I apologize for any pain I may have caused. You must understand I meant none of it.” The door connecting the two rooms opened, with Imperial soldiers and the two scientists marching in. Colonel Sharp pointed to the back entrance. “Follow me.”

“I’m pulling her out,” Steven said as he stared down at the bloody mess that was left of Marissa before shifting his gaze to the Colonel. With the help of the armor, he lifted her mangled body into his arms, and followed the Colonel out of the bunker.

“Bastard,” Sun said plainly, her eyes not as forgiving as he could have hoped for. Not even the slightest bit. She looked down at Marissa’s bloodied body. She knew that Steven and she had been relatively close, but personally she couldn’t forgive Marissa. As far as she was concerned that woman could die. That was a thought which had never crossed Sun’s mind before. She was angry, tired, hungry, and there was blood streaming down her face fro the reopened wound on the side of her forehead. She did not offer Steven the help, nor said a word. She nodded, and followed, not looking back.

Simon burst into the room, expecting to find ... he didn't know what. He certainly wasn't expecting to see Steven carrying a dead Marissa and a live, albeit bleeding, Sun. He hurriedly tore his mask off and clumsily ran towards her, shouting "Sun!"

Even as she turned to face him, suddenly the adrenaline of the situation began to stop giving him energy, and he began to tire slightly. Still, she was alive, and it was more than he could have ever expected. "We ... we thought you were dead," he said, speaking through the burning pain in his jaw, which he had not noticed since the dropship. Now, though, with it seeming as if the danger was over, Jim and Fred both dead, he was relaxing and the pain was coming back. He was suddenly remembering that he was injured, and it occurred to his mind that he had a concussion. His head started burning, but he blinked several times and tried to clear the pain, trying his best to stay coherent in order to talk to Sun. "Are you okay?"

Chris looked at James and shook his head. "I'm sorry, James...I gotta look for Sun. She's been my best friend and even if she is dead...I won't leave her here. If you need assistance, contact me via the helmet intercom," Chris said, pointing to his helmet. Being of a technilogical background, the suit's controls were relatively easier to get the hang of. He let COW on the ground, his programming slightly different from the one he had previously set on the rover.

The heavy clad Chris lifted his foot, one after the other, thinking the same word to himself the whole way. Sun. Each foot step let out a loud clunk. But he knew he had to go faster...he had to save Sun. Underneath his mask, his face was that of determination. He walked down the corridor, suddenly coming face to face with four more men, wielding semi-automatic rifles. Chris would have jumped, had his heavy armor been light. But he was all the more greatful for his armor. His look of determination gave way to that of raw fury. He shouted something inside his helmet, whether someone could hear or not he did not know.

He forced his feet to move. Faster, faster...he was a brick wall. A demon bent on destroying those in front of him. He roared again as he charged at them, his feet seeming to gain control over his armor as he ran at full speed into the four men, lined up quite nicely.

The four soldiers backed away, shouting in Vespian as they struggled to run backwards and fire at the monster in front of them. The first one tripped and fell. Chris heard something crunch underneath him, but his fury kept sick feelings out of his stomach. The next soldier was flung away as Chris flailed his left hand, bashing him into the wall with a crack. The final Two soldiers backed up against the wall...not a safe place to be when Chris was running after them. They fired and screamed as Chris continued charging.

"I'm the juggarnaut, B-"

Bam.

The two soldiers were very much a gooey paste on the wall. However the wall did not feel so great when Chris' head rammed into it. Luckily his helmet took most of the damage. He lay on the floor for a few minutes before he heard a series of whirs. COW. Chris looked up and noticed the little dainty robot making its way down the path the others had taken. As he walked, he pulled off his dented helmet and carried it along with him.

"Remind me not to do that again..." he whispered as he pushed himself up, and staggered about, following behind the robot like a drunk, occasionaly leaning on the wall to support himself.

As they came into a crowded room, he stumbled in, his robot weaving it's way through bodies and between the legs of a certain fiery haired woman. There was some talking in the room...who were they speaking to?

Chris's eyes fell as he noticed Marissa dead. This wasn't good...however it seemed she had died rather recently. He could only hope that-

His eyes fell upon the one that Simon was speaking to, and the broadest smile graced Chris' face.

"Sun!" He laughed as he walked awkwardly towards Sun. He carefully place his hands on her waist and lifted her, giving her a small hug, but not wanting to squeeze her with the armor's increased strength. He looked at Simon, then at Sun, and felt his cheeks get red, despite his already hot temperature.

"I'm sorry, Sun...I want to hear how you are too. Please continue," he chuckled, overjoyed to see his best friend and love alive.

Sun was a little shaken, not to mention Simon was in full armor. "I thought I was dead too," she whispered softly. "And what about you! You're supposed to be resting! You are going to ruin all the work I did." She said, scolding him thoroughly. She was rather worried about him. Last time she had seen him he was lying on a medical table unconscious from a concussion. Well, it wasn't like she was in charge of him. He could make his own decisions. But still, she didn't want to see him tearing himself apart. It was then that Chris ran up and hugged her.

"Good to see you too, ugh..." she said with a light smile as the wind was squeezed out of her. She laughed as she was released.

"I'm fine," he replied automatically, even though he knew he was not. he didn't want to worry her. "That's why I wore the armour. It, uh ... supports my body and stuff. Stops me from falling over." He reflected on what else it did, and tried not to think about the fact that Jim's blood was dripping from its left glove. It let me kill a man.

He stepped back for a moment as Chris embraced Sun carefully, and half-smiled, half-frowned inwardly. He could understand Chris' enthusiasm and excitement, but he still found a different feeling within him, in the pit of his stomach, that wanted him to let her go immediately. He shook his head slowly to clear his thoughts, finding it hard to think again. It had been so easy when he was just thinking about finding Sun, and then, once he thought she was dead, about killing Jim. Now, all this running through his head ... it was too much. "We should get out of here," he said to the other two scientists. "I'm pretty sure we're leaving the planet with the Imperial troops, I think."

Chris couldn't stop laughing happily. He didn't even want to put Sun down. "What happened? How did the life scanners stop detecting you? Do you know?" Chris asked as he looked around for COW. The little robot seemed to be using it's vacuum for something some distance away. He shrugged and decided that a little housecleaning wouldn't harm the messy room.

"Aye, I agree with Simon. We should get out as soon as possible," he concerred, memories of the Cave being destroyed in mere seconds flashed in his mind. Although he doubted they would do so in this building with the commander in here, he still felt uneasy about the weapon.

"I'm glad you found your necklace. I..." he frowned a bit as he searched his body for some sort of towel to wipe the blood off Sun's face, but failed to find one. "What happened to Jim? Anyone find him?"

He looked again on the floor, finding several bodies and regretted asking. "So I guess Vespia is over then, huh? We never did find out how they could mask themselves..."

But atleast I still can look at your light, Sun, as a bright day once again graces the world.

"I, uh ... I killed Jim," Simon answered, looking down at the floor and biting his lip. It felt wrong. "His body's in the other room." It felt strange. Just days earlier, he had looked at Jim's tranquil face lying in the glass cabinet and wished for the man to tell him more about their society, their culture. He had wished to find out more about the man's society, his culture. Now he was dead and Simon knew more than he wanted to. He still didn't know why the Vespians had done what they had done, or how they had masked themselves, but he no longer cared. He had killed a man he had studied, had felt even a certain affinity for. If he could take it all back, go back to wishing for Jim to tell them about his society, go back to the cave, go back to complaining about how bad their study techniques were, would he? He didn't know. If he could take back killing Jim, he would, in an instant. He didn't think Jim would have done the same.

Does that make me a better person than him? I don't think anyone can ever answer that.

"Oh..." Chris replied somewhat awkwardly. His mind went through several possible defenses for the move. He couldn't let Simon feel bad about it. After all, it was Jim's fault this had happened...partially...

"Don't worry Simon. Jim...Jim perhaps deserved it. He had killed George when he was freed. He made the first move, and hurt you badly and...he hurt Sun as well. Jim...he had to know what he was doing when he killed George. Don't worry Simon. You...gave him what he had coming I suppose," Chris said as comforting as possible for such a gritty subject. He gave a smile to Simon and looked at the direction of the other room. He was half tempted to see what exactly happened of their specimen. "I probably would have done the same...Perhaps if you want to...we can...er...give him some sort of makeshift funeral?"

Chris had no clue how much time they had, if they were being timed, but he believed he understood Simon's feelings towards the man. Then suddenly, his mind turned to the vespian soldiers he killed in the corridor. He too was not without blood on his hands. Or his armor...

"A funeral?" she looked at Chris with a disdainful look. "He would have killed me had it not been..." she cut off right there. He had no idea. She eased off of him and looked at Simon. "If you didn't kill the fucker, I would have." Wow, Sun swearing. That is a sight to behold. She looked desperately at the too men. "Can't we just get out of here, I'm covered in blood and remnants of brains. I fell like one of those lab zombies and sooner or later, Simon, I'll ask you to make fried brains for breakfast." It was a weak attempt at a joke. Sun was the first to pass through the door that lead to the exit. She was ready to get the hell out of there. She just wanted to be outside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Chris said with a frown. "Perhaps we all would have killed Jim had we the chance."

The armored Chris walked around a few things, past strange liquids and noticed COW driving nearby. "Come on, we're out of here," he said to the robot. And as though it could understand, it began to drive the way it came, avoiding footsteps along the way.

"Wait...Sun attempted a joke?" Chris chuckled as he gave his friend a playful look. "I never thought I'd see the day. I guess I'm rubbin' off on you?"

He looked at Simon before he walked up the stairs and smiled. "You gonna need help, Simon? You were in bad shape before we left the Cave. I'm always glad to help." His mind flashed to the friendly face he always seemed to see in the Cave- James. He had heard no intercom chatter, so he assumed the man was alright, however he felt bad for leaving the man alone. Luckily, it seemed everyone else was hurrying so he wouldn't step on any toes to make sure James was safe as well.

"Fuck him," Simon growled at Chris' suggestion of a funeral. "He can lie there and rot, I'm not going to bury him. He deserved to die, it just ... doesn't feel right." With that, he became suddenly quiet, and followed Sun outside. Once in the sun, and with no remaining threat, no one left to kill, and Sun unexpectedly safe, he began to remove the armour that made movement so awkward. He knew what he wanted to do, but his window of opportunity disappeared as quickly as it had appeared as Chris followed him closely behind out the building. Simon knew Chris had feelings for Sun, despite his jokes at her expense it was obvious enough, but he was just realizing what he himself felt about her as well, and he didn't want to ruin the chance at a good friendship with Chris by doing something stupid right in front of him. He took the armour off in silence, thinking mutely about what he could do, what was going on, and what it all meant.

Sun was so happy to be outside she spun around in a circle. Then looked directly at Chris. “Hey I can joke!” she said, and stopped laughing as she tried to look serious, like normal. Something had changed about her. Perhaps it was the near death experience. Sun walked over to Simon and looked at his wounds as he took of pieces of armor. “Damn it Simon. You’re lucky none of these got moved,” she said, examining the bandages. “You should have rested. I could have taken him out,” she commented, glancing at her taped up knuckles. She had been prepared to beat the living shit out of Jim.

"I have no doubt you could have," he said, quiet and subdued, as he looked at the bandages covering his knuckles, then reached and held her right hand with his left, using his right hand to point out that they both had tape wrapped around their knuckles. Looking up into her eyes and smiling weakly, he said softly "Look, we have something in common!" He was hesitant to tell her what 'staying behind' would have entailed. She may have had things in the cave that had meant much to her, that were gone now. He decided the best way to tell her would be to simply say it. Gripping her hand slightly tighter, he told her. "Besides, I would've gotten a ride in a dropship either way. The cave's gone, Sun. They blew it up from orbit. Resting wasn't really an option."

"My clothes..." she said hanging her head slightly. She had a lot of designer dress shirts and those Editor pants from Express were pretty damn expensive. "my shoes..." she looked as if she was about to tear up. She held the pendent around her neck. "My...carbon tetra-chloride," and that's when she hugged him, wit a laugh.

"It's okay. Those things can be replaced. People can't."

Chris followed behind Simon, in silence. He began to enjoy his suit more and more. It did make him feel more powerful. He especially loved how buff he looked in it. "I hope I can keep the suit as a souviner...it's very nice. What I would like to know is: Do I need to get it dry cleaned?" He chortled as he walked outside.

As Sun giggled and danced in front of him, Chris couldn't help but smile. "Not with jokes like those," he laughed and shook his head. "I only kid, Sun. It feels good to be alive."

He laughed as Sun began scolding Simon. The Sun he remembered... Always concerned for others, before herself.

"Come here, COW, where did you go?" Chris asked as he began to search for the robot.

He laughed with her, slightly taken aback at her unexpected hug, but he joined in with her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him. He still subconsciously expected her to be dead, and holding her like that made him feel better. The armour was gone, and he could feel her against his chest, feel how real he was, and for the first time his subconscious admitted that she was alive, possibly with a slight internal shrug of the proverbial shoulder-devil. Her comment about people not being able to be replaced only drove it home. You don't even know how much I agree with you, Sun, he wanted to say, but couldn't quite manage it.

Instead he answered in gestures. Leaning back slightly away from her, he looked into her eyes. "You're damn right," he said aloud, and then leaned in towards her again and kissed her.

"Ohhhh," she whined. "The foods gone too." She smiled at him. "Well, the whipcream was out anyway," she grinned, and looked up toward the Sun. She could just do a backflip. No, she really could. It didn't seem the best place to do it though, considering the hustle and bustle going on. "So where are we going from here?" she asked, pulling away from him a bit. "Is there a ship or something? I want to go home. I haven't seen the sunrises in my nation for ages it seems. I miss that. That and the beach, and my own apartment."

It was then that be bent his head and kissed her. At first she froze, just as she had with Chris. And she, after nearly dying a damn virgin, kissed him back. Life's too short to not live; to lock yourself in your room and study your life away. There is only this, only us. There is no other path, there is no day but today. Life...it's too short.

Commander Gabranth stood back as Steven buried Marissa. Steven had said earlier that she had no family, so there was no real reason to bring her back. He also did not intend to visit her grave, yet even if he did; Vespia was now an Imperial planet, a colony under the strong arm of Emperor Bivens.

Steven kept his helmet on so the others wouldn’t see him cry. They were relaxing, unwinding from the day’s wildness, but he couldn’t. He had come so close to death, only to be saved by Marissa. The most complex emotions swirled through his mind, tugging at his heart, as he stared down at the dirt mound which would become Marissa’s final home.

She had been his best friend, his confidant, his mentor, and she had thrown that all away, only to redeem herself in the end. Steven was, if nothing, confused by the onslaught of emotions which wrecked havoc on him. As the tears streamed down his face, he turned his public comm off so they wouldn’t hear him as well.

Gabranth could not feel worse for his brother, and he could not remember a time which had come close. For the past decade he had resented him, his own flesh and blood, but now their trifles seemed petty, their fight immature. Unfortunately, he was mature enough to realize that a lifetime making up wouldn’t make up for the time together that was lost, and the rift between them that had widened. He flexed his left arm inside the armor. The stitches pulled at his skin, and the lesion felt tight. There were some wounds that even when healed, left behind nothing but ugliness.

“The dropships should be coming any moment, Commander,” Colonel Sharp said, walking up behind Gabranth. “Your men fought well. A reflection on their leader, no doubt.” Coming from Sharp to a man of the Fleet, this was the highest compliment.

“Adults playing against children,” Gabranth said, shaking his head yet not taking his eye off his brother. He removed his helmet, holding it under his arm. He had always hated the thing.

“You’d be amazed what children are capable of,” the Colonel replied, his metal case gripped tightly in his right hand.

“Will we be going with you, Colonel Sharp?” Gabranth asked, and the Colonel nodded in reply.

From his spot mere feet away, Steven’s ears perked as if he was an animal. Sharp, Marissa had said before she died, a word, no, a name now repeated by his brother. He turned around, looking at the Colonel, and looking at the case that he carried.

“It appears that way, Commander,” Sharp replied. Steven turned and began to walk to them, saying a final goodbye to Marissa. How did Sharp get in? Simon went in the front…I went in the back... Dropships continuously raced by overhead, bringing more and more replacements as the men who manned the Tyrant were shipped back to space. Finally, three stopped and descended on their location.

“Colonel,” Steven said. “…Sharp is it?” Sharp looked at the man in armor standing before him, unsure of who he was. Steven removed his helmet, praying that his eyes were neither puffy nor red. He had to have been there before we arrived…and yet he was armed…and not restrained like Marissa and Sun…

“You’ll need to return that,” Sharp said, realizing who it was that stood before him. The Colonel looked around, trying to tell if any other non-militants were wearing the armor. If there was anything he disliked more than the Fleet, it was civilians. Steven pondered what to say next, trying his hardest not to incite a fight.

“Of course,” he decided to reply. His mind raced, his heart beating faster and faster. Steven gave the Colonel the most innocent face he could. “Where are your men, Colonel?” Sharp merely looked at the scientist, unsure of how to answer. Gabranth turned to him, realizing how odd it was for the Colonel to be planetbound without ODIN Armor or an escort.

“On other business,” Sharp replied, his eyes shifting between brothers.

Simon took a step back, looking sheepishly into Sun's eyes, and then down at the ground again. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just ... when I heard you were dead, I ... I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to tell you how I felt." How I feel. How I just realized I feel. "I..." he was at a loss for words, and his head wasn't helping any. He couldn't quite think of what to say, how to explain what he meant and what he was feeling. He knew what it was, how to emote it, but to put it in words was harder than he thought it would be. "I'm sorry," he finished lamely. "I shouldn't have..."

"Forget regret, or life is yours to miss," Sun said, still looking up at him with a smile. "But, no...you shouldnt' have come after me. Not like this," she said, wiping a bit of blood from his face and giving him an amused expression. "Come on..." she said, taking his hand momntarily. "Let's get out of here before you get another injury.."

He smiled back at her, and looked only slightly concerned as she wiped blood from his face. "Besides," he said, walking with her towards the dropship hand in hand, "I didn't really have a choice. But I think you know that." As they walked along, he couldn't help but hope it was over; that no more unpleasant surprises were lingering in the wings, waiting to spring out at them. They all knew they'd had enough. He just wanted to go home. Among other things.

"There you are," Chris chuckled as he noticed the little robot exploring the area. He wistled to the robot, which slowly drove towards him. He picked it up and examined the little automaton. It felt slightly heavier. COW must've picked up some glass or something,. He plodded back to where he left, looking down as his heavy feet left prints in the dirt. He wanted to take off the suit...but he didn't want to lose it, nor carry it with him anywhere. He actually hoped to keep it...but somehow he doubted it could happen.

Heck, he wished he could improve upon it, maybe even fix the coolant system within it...or install something else to make the wearer cooler.

As he turned the corner, he noticed Sun and Simon walking towards the dropship. "Hey, where's James?" he called out when he suddenly noticed them holding hands...He could feel his anger beginning to burn. His face fell, a frown forming where a smile once stood.What's this? Maybe she is just supporting him...yeah...it's just that.

Simon could see the dropship through the trees ahead of them, several troopers standing guard around it and several more already loaded and ready to leave. He could see, sitting between two troopers and looking very uncomfortable, James. He seemed out of place, sitting between two massive suits of armour in just his casual clothes from the cave, his face - unshaven in about thirty-six hours - standing out amidst the grey metal of the chestplates it sat between. he brightened up slightly as he saw Simon in the distance, and grinned outright when he saw Sun. His gaze lingered for a moment on their hands, held together at their sides, but shot back up to their faces. He had been escorted there by several troopers, still suspicious of his identity and intentions even though Steven had confirmed them on the other side of the bunker.

Simon turned his head slightly back at Chris. Panicked thoughts would have been running through his head if he had been able to think properly, more rationally, and not been letting his emotions guide him, he may have let go of Sun's hand, apologized to Chris, a number of things. As it was, he just kept holding onto her hand and directly answered his obvious question, leaving the more subtle, unspoken ones to Chris' mind. "He's up ahead, I can see him," he called back.

Chris' hands visibly clenched, his gauntlets making a few creaks as he walked a bit closer to the two. "Feelin' any better, Simon?" he asked, trying to put on a fake smile, but failing to do so. His teeth clenched as his thoughts of Sun's support began to twist into something more cruel.

COW whirred a bit as it moved closer into his arm, not wanting to fall off his arms.

"How about you, Sun? What's up?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Simon.

"After nearly dying," she began. "I'm all right. I should have died. That slide showed me that I had red blood cells in my CSF. Reason says I should have been dead four hours ago. I wasn't really worried about Jim killing me. I was already dead." And there was the information no one knew. Sun, had been prepared to die, and had left them, expecting to die. She had left without a word to anyone. She noticed the look in Chris' eyes, and tilted her head. Oh boy. This was going to get interesting.

Simon clenched her hand tighter at this news and turned to look at her incredulously as they walked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Are you serious?" he said, a slight tone of fear in his voice. Had she miscalculated? Could she drop dead at any minute? Was he going to lose her again? There were too many questions. He wanted to urge her to seek medical help, but decided to leave that to Chris - it would seem hypocritical coming from him. Still, he searched back in his mind. Four hours ago ... then some time before that ... when she had checked the slide. "You told me to go to sleep ... when you were dying?"

"I knew after," she said softly. "Besides there was nothing anyone could have done. I needed major brain surgery to make it stop. No one was qualified to do that in the Cave." She shrugged. "No more dizziness, no nausea…” She paused in speech for a while. She looked at Chris. “I saw Baralai, Chris,” she told him. “This one was healed by the Faith.” She pointed to the now healing cut on the left side of her forehead.

Chis would have frowned at Simon for ignoring his question, however his thoughts fell upon Sun. "Baralai? The priest in near your home? Amazing," he replied. A brief smile formed on his face. "I'm overjoyed that you are still with us, Sun. Somehow, I knew that you weren't dead. It must have been all those years we've known each other." He purposely stressed the word "years", glancing at Simon. His anger was boiling, not because they seemed to be closer together, but more because he wasn't sure if they were truly close. He advanced closed on Simon, his right hand wrapping around COW, letting his left hand free.

Simon, even in his concussed state, could tell what Chris was insinuating with the stress on the word 'years', but although the insinuation was incredibly obvious, his mind wasn't in a proper state to answer it. Instead he addressed Sun. "I still think you should get yourself checked out as quickly as possible, Sun. I don't want you dropping dead on us anytime soon. Not after all this." He didn't stress the word 'us', but his half-awake brain was pleased with itself, finding a diplomatic way to draw himself and Chris closer together.

"I'm fine," she whispered, and looked at him in the eyes. There was a moment between Simon and Sun in which their eyes locked. She smiled, and blinked as they reached the drop ship. She looked towards it.

"Well, shall we?" She looked at Chris. This was a very awkward situation.

Chris stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping the delicate robot in his arms. He was astonished. He had nothing to say, no witty comment, no words of wisdom, nothing. He could feel himself boil with rage. He could pummel Simon to a pulp as he had the vespians. But he didn't want to. He couldn't. Even if he may not have known Simon so well, he still considered him a friend....barely.

He merely stood there and watched, his outward appearance showing no emotions except for a slight frown, however his eyes betraying him, revealing sadness.

Then suddenly, he snapped. "So...is this your choice then, Sun? After all those years..." he growled, narrowing his eyes at the couple. "Is there something between you two...something at all more than friendship?"

Sun immediately turned around and put herself between Simon and Chris. "If there is it is my decision to make. I told you how I felt Chris." She looked at him desperately. He still had his armor on. She silently hoped that Simon would book it for the drop ship, even though she knew he wouldn't. "That was years ago. There is only this now, only today. I can't look back on the past. Almost dying does somethign to you. If I still held the past as close to my heart as the present, as the future, then I would still be in Summerset as a priestess in the temple with Baralai." Her hands tensed. It wasn't that she didnt' value their friendship. Was this a relationship? It hadn't even to progress as such. Their minds weren't in the right state to fully establish a relationship. They needed to be home; not after everything that just happened. She wanted to be sure. Still, she held her ground between the two.

Chris looked between the two, his eyes practically on fire. "I see. Back to the past...So I was duped the entire time. Our times together, our happiness we shared. It was nothing all along. All a lie..." Tears filled his eyes. "I had befriended you when no one else can, Sun..."

He looked up at the dropships and sighed before looking upon Simon with tear-stricken eyes. "Take care of her. Take care of her like I did...or better...something went wrong with me," he said, his voice wavering slightly before he turned to another dropship. Perhaps he can find a different route out of here.

Perhaps death will change me too... he thought sadly, glancing at the little robot in his arms, the one he so delicately built, not so much of hardware...but of memories. Of Sun.

"No, Chris...none of it was a lie!" she snapped back at him. "You didn't listen to one word I said two days ago! You just don't get it!" Her cheeks were flush with rage.

"You were my friend back then, not my boyfriend!" Now, she was mad. "Best friend and boyfriend are two different things!" He just didn't understand. He had listened to nothing she had told him, and he didn't understand it. That is perhaps what had caused the ridge between them for a bit. She was mad, but she couldn't help but to feel a sense of lose. She turned toward Simon and hugged him. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She never knew how to cry; only twice in her life. Once had been on this journey.

Simon held her tight, his addled brain looking for a way not to screw everything up more than it already was, and finally finding one, no matter how clichéd it seemed. "It's okay," he said softly, hoping Chris was out of earshot. "I don't think you can talk to him right now. If he really does care about you, and I think he does, he'll just want what you want. He'll want to know you're happy. I don't think he'll abandon your friendship just like that." It sounded stupid, but he couldn't think of anything better to say.

"Thing is, I did listen... I always did. You told me you loved me back then. That you wanted me to be with you, to comfort you. And I did. Then you pushed me away when I tried to continue being your friend, when I tried to get a little smile out of you," Chris replied in a barely audible voice as he took another glance at Sun. "I loved you Sun, from the beginning, and to the end. As I said two days ago- the day you left me- you are my light on the world. I will never stop loving you."

With that, he turned around and began to plod off. He didn't want to care if he ever got off the rock that was Vespia...but he did. Vespia was where he lost his home, his hope, his comrades, and his love. He was broken in more ways then one. He wished he was the one holding Sun within his arms, as he had hoped since the day they met. Since the day he first smiled and gave a little joke about a man that was bugging her. Since the day they first smiled at each other and called each other friend.

As the dropships landed, those in the woods heard the rumbling of the trees. The Vespians, in what could be considered their final offensive, were charging on their location.

“Closing time,” Commander Gabranth said, taking one last look at his brother before nodding towards Colonel Sharp. Gabranth checked his pistol, making sure its phased energy emitter wasn’t empty. Sharp nodded in return, tightly holding the case in his hand.

The Imperial soldiers formed a perimeter around the scientists as they boarded the ships one by one. The Vespians arrived, weapons drawn, and were mowed down by technology. Waves of men fell as phased energy tore through flesh and bone alike, breaking family after family as fathers ran and fell.

Steven watched it in horror as those around him hastily jumped in the transports. It was so morbid, so horrifying, that he doubted he would ever get the images out of his mind. The Vespians stood no chance, and yet they would have rather fought and died than live under Imperial rule.

“Let’s go,” Gabranth told his brother, touching him briefly on the shoulder before rushing off to a ship. Snapping out of his horror-induced haze, Steven spun around, unintentionally ramming his shoulder into Colonel Sharp.

Sharp, who was not wearing ODIN Armor, stumbled backwards, trying to catch his balance before falling over, the case flying out of his hands. Gabranth grabbed his superior, lifting him to his feet with the aid of his own armor. Sharp looked around in a frenzy, desperately searching for his case, his ticket to wealth previously unknown, only to find it a few yards away.

“Let go of me!” Sharp screamed, trying to wriggle from Gabranth’s grasp. The Commander stopped, turning his head to look at the Colonel struggling in his gauntlet, and shifted his gaze to what Sharp was reaching for. Sharp tore himself free, his uniform ripping in the process, but Steven got to the case first. He opened it and stared inside, his eyes growing wide at the sight.

“You…” Steven said, holding the case out of Sharp’s grasp. Inside, there were two vials, filled with the same liquid that was smashed all over the bunker’s floor. This was the key. This was the secret. This was what they had searched for the entire time, what George and Marissa had died for. Steven could feel the rage growing within him. “You stole this…”

“Give that to me now!” Sharp shrieked, his voice crazed, as he tried to reach for it around Steven’s armor. He stopped, realizing that he was not going to win this way, and pulled his weapon on the scientist.

Steven stared down the barrel of the pistol, not wishing that he had left his helmet on or wishing that he was somewhere else. He merely hoped, as Sharp repeated his demands over and over, that he would survive the traitor before him long enough to do what he felt he must. Reaching out towards the Colonel, Steven extended the open case to its un-rightful owner, staring past the weapon into Sharp’s eyes.

As if on cue, Commander Gabranth drew his weapon and fired it into the Colonel’s back. Sharp, his hands now touching the case before him, flailed his arms outwards upon the weapon’s impact, and the open case flew from his hands once more. In his final moments, Sharp neither covered his wound nor cried out in agony, but instead reached for the case in vain.

Coming up short, yet again, he collapsed onto the ground. Trying to crawl to the vials, he dug into the soil with his fingers. He slowly made his way to the case, and Steven and Gabranth let him, for they both knew what Sharp hadn’t discovered. The vials were broken, the secret of the Vespians lost forever. Sharp reached the case and stared into it, his face expressionless and white, his teeth covered with regurgitated blood. He closed his eyes, his head falling to the Vespian soil, never to rise again.

Gabranth stared at Colonel Sharp in disgust, as Sharp had looked at him upon first seeing that he was Fleet and not a Marine, and decided that he would leave the traitor to the Vespians. Sharp was, after all, no longer worthy to travel in an Imperial vessel. He had abandoned his post and his Emperor for personal gain, and Gabranth had shown him no mercy or quarter. Now, as both Steven and Gabranth stared past the traitor to the case which he had so valued, they both could do nothing but shake their heads at the vials.

“Perhaps it’s better…” Gabranth said as the Vespian’s assault died with the last of their charging warriors. A hint of disappointment could be heard in his voice. Already two ships had taken off and were hovering just about the ground with the soldiers and scientists within. The last waited for its commander and his brother.

“It's gone,” Steven added. “The ability of the Vespians dies with him.” Steven turned, walking towards the dropship. Gabranth followed. Climbing aboard, Steven laid his head in his hands. His lack of sleep was almost sickening. “It wasn’t worth the price, Eric…it wasn’t worth their lives…”

“These things rarely are,” Gabranth replied, sitting across from his brother as the final dropship engaged its engines and took off for the Tyrant.

Aboard the ISS Tyrant
En Route to the Orion Sector

“He made a deal with the Vespians, sir,” Commander Ramza Gabranth said, a scowl crossing his face.

“Wealth is quite a draw,” General Valkare replied, shaking his head. “It’s a pity things worked out as they did. He was a fine officer.”

“He was a traitor,” Gabranth snarled.

“Aye,” Valkare responded. “And he paid for it in full. Colonel Sharp learned all too late the price of betrayal. It’s a price far too high for even that serum to fetch.”

“And the secret?” Commander Gabranth asked.

“It will die with the passing generation,” the General replied. “These Vespians will have kids, and their kids will be detectable, and their kids’ kids will be detectable, and the ability of their ancestors will end up as little more than a legend in years to come.”

“So we gained nothing from this…” Gabranth muttered, gripping the back of the chair from behind with his hands and leaning on it.

“We found a leader,” Valkare replied. Gabranth looked up at the General, his superior many times over. Valkare did not smile, for it was not his place to do so, but Gabranth could not help but grin at the compliment. “At times,” Valkare continued. “That is far more valuable than some technology.”

Gabranth nodded to the General before standing straight and saluting the man. Valkare returned the Commander’s show of respect and then dismissed him, giving him the rest he sorely needed, and certainly deserved. As the Commander left the General’s waiting room, there was only one person on his mind.

“How do you do it?” Steven asked as his older brother stepped into his makeshift quarters on the Tyrant, not even looking up. Gabranth slowly closed the door behind him. “How do you deal with it?”

“The killing?” Gabranth asked, stepping closer until he stood beside his brother.

“The dying…” Steven replied, looking up from the palms of his hands. His eyes were red, puffy, and it was quite obvious what he had been doing since they returned.

“You…” Gabranth said, trying to describe something he had done so many times in the past. “You grow numb to it after a while…you learn to accept it and move on…”

“That,” Steven responded, staring his older brother straight in the eye. “Is the saddest thing I have ever heard…” To that, Gabranth had no reply.

Once again, Steven thought back to the day they all had arrived on Vespia. Life was simple then. He was a scientist. Friends were friends. Enemies didn’t exist. Steven thought of cows, of chemical compounds, and of memories with people he would never see again.

“Father would have been proud of you,” Gabranth finally said, putting his hand on the shoulder of his brother. Gabranth closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Far more so than he would have been of me.”

And with that Steven cried. Thoughts of Marissa and George faded in and out like images dissolving in flames. The face of his father passed before his eyes, but like the others it burned away until all that was left was his brother, a man who he had burnt so many bridges with in the past. Vespia had hardened his heart, while at the same time making him all the more emotional.

Marissa had been a mother to him, and with her betrayal she had cast him from their home. But like all good mother she had never stopped loving her son, and at her final moment, she had chosen him to live over her. It made any attempt for Steven to be angry with her void from the beginning, and yet the feeling of treachery still lingered even when he thought of their happiest moments.

It was this emotional frustration which brought tears to his eyes. Coupled with the reality that he hadn’t slept in days, Steven appeared nearly out of his mind. His tears slowly subsided, his mind returning to the conversation they had had when they returned to Vespia, before the ship had exploded.

“I don’t want it to be another ten years,” Steven admitted. Gabranth nodded, understanding entirely. He took his hand off Steven’s shoulder and silently left the room, closing the door behind him. Once again, Steven was alone.

He stared at the mirror in the corner of the room, his body filthy and covered in sweat. Help me, he begged, feeling the water growing in his eyes once again. Help me say goodbye…

Meanwhile, on Vespia, the family Fred had left behind, his wife Anne, his children Bob and Jane, still had not found the body of the father they now presumed was dead. They had been fingerprinted and registered by the Imperials, and now they were waiting to return to their homes, under new rule, under new laws.

Anne stared out the window as the rain fell on the Vespian farm, washing away the blood the planet now held, and the secrets which he had held since far before her time. Fred had told her what he had planned on doing, and now she could only guess that the Imperial officer had betrayed her husband. Fred would not be coming back, and she hadn’t the heart to tell the children.

Then again, perhaps she should. Perhaps they at least had the right to know that their father died trying to make their lives better as their culture was crumbling around them. Perhaps they wouldn’t mind that their father was willing to throw away their people in order to save their family.

“Goodbye…” Anne whispered, turning away from the window. She did not cry. Perhaps some day her children would be as proud of their father as she was.

http://209.85.48.8/237/117/upload/p699046.png

The tiny transport zipped away from the massive flagship, dodging traffic and clearing itself to leave the sector. Within it were only a few men, some of minor importance, some of larger. However this was the closest transport Chris could get that would take him home without making him wait around the behemoth of a ship. He didn't care if there was an awards ceremony or some sort of debriefing. He couldn't even take the armor he wanted. He was atleast able to pick up all his belongings...and the ones he took for Sun- her photoalbums and other possibly valuable items that she may hold dear to her.

Chris' red, puffy eyes scanned the battleship one last time before it blinked out of view. He was alone now. No, he was alone before as well. Who am I kidding...I was always alone. He forced back the tears that tried to get ahold of him, looking down at COW, that is, looking in its direction. The transport's light was out over him, which was partially why he chose the seat. He didn't want to be seen. He wanted to be away from the world, the galaxy. He wanted to be dead. That's how you feel when everything collapses in front of your eyes... He couldn't hold it in anymore as tears began to fall down his cheeks and sprinkle onto COW.

She can still contact me. She knows my number. When I get home, she'll give me a call and I can go back to her house...like the old days. And Simon won't be there anymore, he thought to himself, trying to calm his nerves, however just thinking of the man that took his love made his anger flare, his fists and teeth clench, and his muscles tense. He hoped and wished that it would be true, that Sun will call him when he returns. But if she would...who knows. Time will tell.

One of the stewardess' walked up to Chris and frowned, placing her delicate fingers on her hips. "Sir, we are terribly sorry about the light. If you would allow me to fix-"

"No," growled Chris, looking up at the woman. Sun? he thought as he noticed long auburn hair, sing-song voice, and a face of determination and strength. A smile split his lips as fresh tears fell from his eyes. He blinked them away and rubbed his eyes, saying "Sun, I...I love you...and-" he stopped as he took another look. It wasn't Sun. She had brown hair and a worried expression.

"Sir...I'm sorry. Do you want some refreshments?"

"No, get away from me," Chris whispered, letting his forehead rest in his palms.

The Stewardess frowned and stayed where she was for about five seconds before she took off to take care of the other patrons.

After ten minutes of quiet sobbing, Chris leaned back into his chair and observed COW. His little robot was definately heavier. And if it was some sort of sharp object, it could puncture the container or destroy some wires that the robot needed to continue working.

Chris sighed, hoping that some busywork would help get him out of his settling depression. He picked up his small tool case and gently set to work, his hands involuntarily shaking as he worked, causing a few scratches to his skin and a little bleeding. But he continued to pry the little robot's storage compartment apart, finally coming to a bright clear bag.

Or atleast it should have been.

His eyes widened in shock as his view was filled with a reddish liquid that he saw at the floor of the bunker. Chris' eyes lit up as he looked upwards. The Vespian Secret may not be dead after all...