Sailor Moon Omoi
                             Missionaries 

                        Part 5 – World Eleven











	Always take an active role in your fate.  When blessed by a 
series of successes, it becomes important not to dwell upon a sudden, 
inevitable mistake.  One must move onward to embrace what good can come 
of it.  Equally important is the act of re-examining your triumphs, for 
they may have caused more grief in the long-run than your faults.  
While successes and failures may be cloaked in the skins of one 
another, do not lose the will to influence these events, lest the final 
result they arrive at be blamed or credited to luck.  By now, I'm 
certain you recall my disdain for luck.
                                     -Fiss no kyouten.  (Keter 10:02)







	When all hope is lost and you are about to admit crushing, 
humiliating defeat, always...and I do mean always...think of a good 
lie.  It doesn't have to be a big one.  Just a good one.  Good enough 
to get you out of the shit you're in.  There is some hidden, universal 
rule that makes people more gullible when they see you on the short end 
of the shotgun, or dangling over the pit of piranha.  Like they expect 
you to tell the truth for some unspoken reason.  Like you're going to 
admit defeat all of a sudden and give them nothing but pure, beautiful 
fact.  Yeah.  You'd be surprised the shit people will believe when they 
think you're about to die.
						-Maury's journal.  02/19/3025












								  It wasn't going away.

	Not this time. 
	So, he went to the same place that all men go when something bad 
doesn't go away.
	"You clean up well, Harvey," Doctor Trigs said with a smile as he 
unfolded his stethoscope.  "What's the occasion?"
	Harvey looked blankly at the blood pressure gauge as the air 
hissed away from the sleeve on his arm.  "No occasion.  Just came into 
a bit of money lately.  Sharing a place with someone."
	The doctor nodded, checking his watch to gauge Harvey's heart 
rate.  "A job?  Nothing illegal I hope," he said.  The doc's voice was 
edging between concern and humour.  
	"Doc, not that I'd tell you if it was, but no," Harvey smirked at 
him.
	"So, a job then?"
	Harvey laughed.  "Not quite.  Government grant, actually.  Kind 
of a new charity those Senshi set up."
	The doctor's eyebrows raised up.  "Really?  That's excellent!  I 
hear mixed things about them all the time.  Good to hear some of the 
good things are real."
	Harvey nodded, but his smile dropped off his face as he felt the 
pain rising up in his chest again.  He tried to warn the doctor, but a 
violent bit of coughing suddenly wracked him and the doctor held onto 
his arm, patting his back to try and loosen the phlegm.  
	"Nurse should be in with the scan in just a second, Harvey.  Hang 
in there," the doctor said, handing the man a few tissues from the 
white plastic tissue-box on the tiled counter. 
	Harvey's coughing spell finally stopped and he leaned back on the 
examination bed.  The tissues in his hand were now stained dark red.   
"Yeah, can't wait," he chuckled weakly.   	
	"Your blood-work didn't show anything too strange," Doctor Trigs 
said quietly.  "I see you've been living a bit cleaner."
	"Lot of good it's done me," Harvey said quietly, throwing the 
tissues in the tiny bin at the side of the bed.  
	"The point is that you came in when it started to get bad.  A lot 
of people would have just ignored it.  Especially on the street.  
Everyone just attributes it to a cold that won't go away, but it's 
usually a lot more serious." 
	Harvey nodded with a sigh. "Thanks, Doc."
	They were interrupted by a knocking on the door.  Doctor Trigs 
smiled and walked over as a nurse let herself in.  She was carrying a 
huge manila envelope in her hands, and a concerned look on her face.  
As Trigs took the package from her, she leaned up and whispered 
something into his ear.
	"That's ridiculous!" Trigs said quickly.  "We would have noticed, 
I'm sure.  The boys down at the lab are capable of at least that much!"
	The nurse turned scarlet, then left the room without another 
word.  When Doctor Trigs turned around, he was muttering to himself. 
"What?" Harvey asked quickly.  "What did she say?"
	"Some nonsense about needing to check for e-bola," Trigs said to 
himself.  When he looked up from the reports and saw Harvey's face, he 
laughed and shook his head.  "It's not.  It couldn't possibly be.  We 
already did a check on your blood and even if we weren't looking for 
such a virus, it would have been noticed by the lab right away."
	"Alright," Harvey said, relaxing somewhat.
	Doctor Trigs frowned as he was reading the report, then quickly 
pulled out chest x-rays that were included with the document.  "Mother 
of..."
	Harvey strained his neck, trying to look at the x-rays, but they 
were blurry and unlit in the doctor's hands.  "Doc, come on...stop 
playing with me.  What is it?"
	Doctor Trigs looked over to Harvey with a strange look of 
disbelief on his face.  "Nothing.  It's nothing.  Probably just a 
problem with the scanner.  I'm going to order another round of tests."
	Harvey nodded, then watched Trigs toss the envelope in a drawer 
that he then locked.  "Can we do it now?"
	"Yes, I'm going to go down and book an MRI right now," Trigs said 
quickly.  "Stay here.  I don't enjoy having to pull rank, but the 
slides are so..." he shook his head, "they're very corrupt.  I won't be 
long."
	The doctor left with a brisk stride, leaving Harvey to his 
thoughts and worries.  
	"Can't be that bad," he whispered to himself.  "Says it was a 
mistake.  Maybe someone's playing a joke.  Drew a happy-face on the 
scanner probably."
	As he looked around the room for something to distract himself 
with, however, his eyes kept going back to the bloody tissues he had 
discarded.  
	Harvey stood up, smoothing his clothes out as he did.  Trigs 
hadn't been exaggerating about his new duds, at least.  Last time 
Harvey was here, he was wearing week-old clothes he had found out of a 
dumpster.  He very much enjoyed wearing proper clothes.  Made his 'job' 
easier too.  
	He walked over to the drawer, unable to resist his curiosity.  On 
the first tug of the handle, the lock stuck and he couldn't pull it any 
further.  On the second tug, however, the locking tumbler popped right 
out of the wood as if someone had not screwed it together properly.  
	Inside, Harvey found the x-ray images and the report.  The x-rays 
showed strange, lumpy blackness in his chest, as if portions of his 
insides were suddenly not there anymore.  Mostly, it seemed to be in 
his lungs and his fatty tissue.  His breath hitched as he imagined a 
third of his lungs were now gone.  Maybe the doctor was right...it must 
have been a joke.  He would have noticed if his lungs were 
disintegrating.
	Harvey brought the lab report up to his face so he could read it 
better.  His eyes weren't faring much better than his cough lately. 
	"Organs show massive decomposition in various advance stages.  If 
it were not for the blood samples date, I would have told you that this 
was a sick joke, using a cadaver from the morgue to give us some 
strange results to ponder over..." Harvey mumbled, reading it out loud 
to himself.
	"Lungs and softer tissues seem to be most severely affected.  
Heart may last as long as six more months, but this is under the 
circumstances that we hospitalize the patient immediately and isolate 
to bed rest.  It is critical we determine if any countermeasures are 
possible.  Blood tests, while clean of viral infection, show an acute 
instance of leukemia..."
	Harvey felt cold as he read on.  It mentioned that he had 
deterioration and faults all over his body.  The rash on his leg was 
actually the skin dissolving, but there were no viruses.  His blood was 
breaking down like some kind of aggressive leukemia, and yet there was 
no cancer.  As he read on and on, it seemed only to make sense to him 
on some fundamental level that his body was falling apart.  He could 
see the process between the lines of the report that soon, he would 
simply fall down and shatter like glass.
	He was reading so intently that, when Doctor Trigs came back, he 
hadn't even really noticed.  If it wasn't for the numb feeling all over 
Harvey's body and mind as he read, he would have been startled when the 
doctor cleared his throat. 
	"Harv, come on...you know you're not supposed to be reading 
that," Trigs said, pulling the papers out of his patient's hand.  "I 
told you, the results make no sense.  We're going to do an MRI.  It's 
all set up for tonight."
	"No," Harvey said quietly, looking up at the doctor.  "It's okay.  
The report is right.  I know it's right."
	The doctor pushed the drawer back shut, then sighed as he saw the 
lock.  "How'd you do that?  Harvey, I'm your friend.  I thought you 
were over breaking into stuff."
	"It fell out.  I didn't break it," Harvey said with a sigh as he 
walked back over to the bed.  "How long do I have?"
	Trigs' anger seeped away when asked the question.  "If these 
tests are accurate, it's going to happen soon.   Maybe this week if you 
have another bad coughing fit.  If not, then a month.  Maybe six.  
That's why I want to do an MRI."
	"Ah," Harvey said, laying back on the bed.  
	Doctor Trigs pulled up a tiny office chair and sat down next to 
the bed.  "This is probably just a malfunction.  No need to..."
	"I told you already, Doc," Harvey said with a small smile on his 
face.  "The report is right.  I can feel it."
	"How can..."
	"But I don't want to go just yet," Harvey said quietly.  "Can you 
keep me together?"
	Trigs sighed.  "You're not humpty..."
	Harvey reached over and grabbed the doctor's lab-coat.  "I ASKED 
YOU..." he said angrily, then calmed down when he saw the doctor's 
surprised and terrified face.  "Can you keep me together?  For now?  I 
don't care how long.  I'm just not done yet.  I need to figure this 
out."
	Trigs scrambled to his feet, pulling Harvey's hand away from his 
coat.  "The only reason I'm not calling security is because I realize 
you have just been told you're dying," he fumed.  "And I swore to help 
you if I could.  But if you grab me like that once more we'll never 
speak again, and I'll call security.  Do you understand?"
	Harvey ignored him.  "Can you, or can't you?"
	"I can't," Trigs said after a pause.  "Not until we know what's 
causing it."
	"Who can?" Harvey asked, sitting up. 
	"It would take magic," Trigs shrugged.  "I told you, I won't know 
until..."
	"Who?" Harvey jumped up, cornering the man.  "Who has the magic?"
	Trigs backed away, shaking his head.  "I was kidding!  It's a 
figure of speech!  Like a miracle or magic.  Something like that!"
	Harvey looked him over, then smiled brightly.  "You just gave me 
the best idea in the world, Doc."
	"What?" Trigs swallowed the lump in his throat.  "What do you 
mean?"
	"About magic.  I forgot about the kid," Harvey laughed hoarsely.  
"Thanks, Doc." 
	He started for the door.  Doctor Trigs gasped.  "Wait!  Harvey!  
You can't just leave!  You're sick, and you need to rest!"
	"And wait to die?" Harvey said with a frown.  "No thanks, Doc.  
If you can't help me then I know of someone who can."
	"I don't know how you found out about Ian..." 
	Harvey stopped in his tracks.  
	"...but you should know he's not allowed to help anyone right 
now," Trigs said quietly.  "They're training him.  Can't just walk up 
to him and ask him to help."
	"So you DO know about him," Harvey said angrily.  "And you were 
just going to let me rot here on the bed?"
	"He's the only one we know of," Trigs said angrily.  "He can't be 
some commodity to pass around.  Not when he's supposed to be top 
secret!  If the public knew we had a life mage, the entire country 
would fall into chaos!"  
	"You KNEW about him and you were ready just to let me ROT!!" 
Harvey shouted, storming back over to the doctor.  "Is this because I'm 
homeless?  Just some bum on the street?  What happens if the Premier 
comes in sick?  Has the sniffles?  Has a skinned knee?  Can he ask for 
this Ian kid to come by and help out?"
	"Lay down, or I'm calling security," Trigs said forcefully.  
"I've had patients come in on their deathbeds, and I've been forced to 
ignore that I know about him, so don't you dare think I'm playing 
favourites.  If you want my help, I will help.  You don't even know 
where this kid lives, and that information isn't given to us."
	A flash of a smile broke across Harvey's angry face.  He reached 
into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked like an ID tag.  
"Really?  'Cause I have a pretty good idea where he lives."
	Harvey casually showed the surprised doctor the ID tag with Ian's 
picture.  Below was a bright blue CCMA logo, with a sub-title: 
"Missionaries Project A_00001."
	"How did you..." Trigs whispered, then turned to the phone on the 
wall.  "No.  This is too much.  I'm sorry, but you shouldn't have 
that..." He was cut off from further speech when Harvey reached over 
and grabbed his throat.  A gentle pulse of green light illuminated the 
man's skin, and he shook violently as if electrocuted.  While the 
action tore him away from Harvey's grip, his breath only came now in 
gurgles and a splatter of blood fell out of his mouth as the doctor 
collapsed against the wall.
	Harvey quickly rummaged through Trigs' pockets, finding his 
wallet, keys and a cell-phone.  He casually opened the drawer once 
more, taking his report out and filing it all away neatly in his coat 
as the doctor silently bled to death behind him.  
	"Don't look so distraught, Doc," Harvey said, bending down as 
Trigs looked around frantically, unable to move, speak or do much more 
than bleed.  "I came here looking for a cure.  You just reminded me I 
had one."  Harvey stood back up and walked over to the door.  "Oh, and 
Doc?"
	The doctor, if he could hear anything at that point, probably 
believed it to be a nice, hazy daydream before he died.  A small bubble 
of blood popped from his mouth. 
	"Don't tell anyone about this, okay?" Harvey whispered with a 
smirk, then closed the door behind him as he walked out into the nearly 
deserted hallway.  
	Doctor Trigs never did. 











Cigars and Conquest
 Chapter 1











	Maury still had dreams of the old life. 

	Not of Sol, and not of his time in Japan, but rather his time in 
Calgary before that.  It had been when he and Fiss became friends out 
of necessity more than any mystical ties to the past.  The only good 
thing in six years of hell.  
	Chris was a year ahead of Maury by age and grade, and while they 
had a budding friendship built on their mutual hatred of their school, 
the year when Fiss had advanced to high school had been hell for them 
both.  Maury was left behind with nothing but classmates who feared 
him, and Fiss was thrust into the untested waters of grade nine with no 
backup.  
	It hadn't been that they were looking for trouble.  Not at all.  
Fiss was an 'A and B' student who kept his head down low.  Maury had 
been a 'C' student, but the teachers all loved him and he had the 
charisma to go further than his report card.  Then, one day, Chris got 
beat up by some bullies at school.  One day, Maury got into a fight, 
where an older kid pulled a knife on him.  Nothing was quite the same 
after that.  Mo fought back with his own. 
	Suddenly, Maury was the rebel.  The mean kid.  The kid you didn't 
mess with unless you wanted to go to the hospital.  Teachers treated 
him like a criminal.  He had his locker and book bag searched on a 
daily basis.  He was frisked three times a year (always on lucky days 
he didn't bother with bringing a knife to school), and everyone was so 
certain that he would end up just another thug on the street that he 
had almost started to think that way too.  
	Fiss had been the opposite.  Picked on every day, or every week 
when he was lucky.  Maury had watched his friend pull inside himself 
more and more every day, trying to escape the torment that was 'social' 
school life.  And every day, when they walked home together, he seemed 
to carry a little more of that feeling back with him.  
	"I hate this place..." Fiss said quietly as they walked home 
during a snowstorm.  A bright red welt was visible on his chin where a 
punch had landed.  
	Maury nodded, tucking his hands into his coat as they walked.  
"It sucks," he agreed.  
	This went on for a year and did not get any better when Maury was 
finally in high school with Fiss.  Their classes were always different, 
and they only spent the lunch hour hanging out since their busses 
rarely went the same way anymore.  It was hard.  The times that didn't 
suck kept becoming more rare and infrequent.  
	Chris fought back once.  Beat a bully down.  That only made it 
worse.  Now he was tormented by half the school wanting to fight him.  
Maury got caught with a butter knife in his binder, a stupid mistake 
that nearly got him expelled.  
	This was a week before they learned about the program.  

	Go to Japan. 

	Neither thought twice about signing up.  The only problem was 
that Andrea was too young to join the program, two years younger than 
Maury.  
	It was only after she promised them both that she wouldn't feel 
lonely that they began to get excited about it.  Maury didn't do 
anything that jeopardized his chances.  Walked away from a few fights 
with bloody noses, but never fought back.  Chris drove his grades back 
up by spending nearly his entire life in the library, avoiding the 
bully-lined halls of the school whenever he could and earning favours 
from the teachers by helping grade papers and doing computer work for 
them.  It didn't stop the attacks, but having something more to focus 
on helped him a lot.  
	Afternoons were spent hanging out, watching movies.  On the 
weekends, after Chris learned to drive, they would go out of town into 
the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains and hike all day.  If Mo could, 
he would steal a warm couple of beers from his dad and they would sit 
out under the stars on the hood of Fiss' crappy old car and dream about 
getting away from all their troubles.  
	"You ever wonder what it will be like in Japan?" Mo asked his 
friend one night as they were watching the sky turn black.  
	Fiss winced as he sipped the warm beer in his hands.  His lip was 
still cut up from a particularly bad day of bullying.  The way Maury 
saw Fiss holding his side made him suspect the damage was a lot worse 
than usual.  "It's going to be better than here," Fiss said, as if it 
was the only thing keeping him from breaking.  "It has to be."
	"What if it isn't?" Maury wondered out loud.  
	"Don't say that."
	Maury frowned.  "Why?"
	"Because I haven't quite worked up the nerve to kill myself," 
Chris smirked at him, finishing his beer. 
	Maury felt something strange wash over him...like a kind of 
dream.  It would be a year until he realized what the feeling meant.  
That he was able to see what would come in the future.
	"You won't need to," Maury said resolutely.  "It will be better."
	Chris sighed, tossing the empty can into the ravine they were 
parked next to.  "How can you be so sure?"
	"Because Japan has hot Japanese school girls," Mo informed him 
without hesitation.  
	Chris looked at his friend and finally cracked the smallest of 
smiles.
	"And besides," Mo continued.  "With the Spud Twins entering the 
program as well, we're sure to look much cooler compared to them."
	Fiss smirked and ran his hands through his hair.  "Always a 
bright side."
	"Exactly," Mo grinned, popping open another beer for Fiss.  "And 
I hear sake is better than this shit."  He reached into the half-empty 
box of Molson and pulled out another can for himself.  "A toast."
	Chris nodded and readied his finger at his can's tab.  "To 
Japanese school girls."
	"To Japanese school girls," Maury agreed, then popped the tab on 
his beer.  

	Despite the punch to his face, Maury smiled.  An honour guard 
spat at him as he landed at the back of the cell, head still filled 
with the dream.  
	The guard muttered something in a strange tongue, but Mo assumed 
that he was still dreaming.  "Fucking Pengu.  Why can't you speak 
right?"
	When the door slammed shut a moment later, Mo realized he wasn't 
dreaming about small, gibberish-talking plasticized penguins, and he 
most certainly was no longer sitting on the hood of a nineteen-eighty 
Dodge Shadow on the top of a hill drinking beers with his best friend.  
	"Shit," Mo groaned.  

	Time passed.  

	As the hours stretched on, Mo found himself lapsing in and out of 
consciousness.  His body was exhausted and he suspected that the 
bruises and battering from the Emperor's Guard were superficial 
compared to his simple need for rest.  
	The cell was basic enough.  A cube made of some kind of ceramic.  
A narrow door in the corner that had a smaller tray-door built in to 
deliver what he hoped was food.  
	On the opposite corner of the room was a metal grille in the 
floor and some kind of hidden motion sensor that caused a stream of 
water to fall from the roof when he passed his hand over a portion of 
the wall.  It wasn't fancy, but he was able to use the washroom and 
have brief showers in the apparatus, for which he was quite grateful 
after the second day.
	With no day or night in the dark grey cell, Mo's clock turned 
into one based on meals.  In what he assumed was the morning, he would 
get a small bowl of mush that tasted like kidney beans and mustard.  
With the meal, he also had a large bowl of water, and a small cup of 
something white and chalky that he ignored until the forth day.  
	Dinner was a tray of dried meat strips that reminded him 
pleasantly of peppered beef jerky, a lumpy looking orange-like fruit 
that tasted of pickled beets, and another bowl of water.  
	On that fourth day, he found himself craving something, but he 
could not tell what.  It drove him mad until he realized the white 
chalky stuff was likely a vitamin supplement.  Ignoring the horrible 
taste, he drank it down the fifth day, and found his body was no longer 
grumbling by that same night.  
	"At least they're not trying to poison me," Mo sighed as he paced 
around the small cell.  "Not yet, anyway," he added as an afterthought.
	To assist with his time-keeping, he would heat up his finger and 
etch a notch in the wall to track the days.  If he was being watched, 
he grinned at the thought of his captors sweating when they saw him 
able to burn through the material.  
	Occasionally, he would be awake when food was delivered.  He 
could see an honour guard outside the door in a brightly lit hall that 
made his eyes water.  Was he still on the Emperor's ship?  He wanted to 
ask about the Solar Palace, but nobody presented themselves for 
questioning.  

	He felt his calm fading after the tenth day with no contact. 

	Maury paced in his cell rapidly, munching on a beef jerky strip.  
When the door opened abruptly, he jumped, spitting out the food.  
"Hello?"
	There was no answer.  Only the bright hallway beyond that seemed 
to stretch forward into a pinprick of yellow light.
	Mo walked toward the door, poking his head out carefully.  No 
guard.  Shrugging, he walked a few feet into the hall.  "I'm not 
escaping...just checking it out," he told himself.
	He had made it all of ten feet when he hit an invisible wall.  It 
wasn't so solid that it hurt him to bounce off of it, but it felt like 
he was trying to walk through very deep snow until the feeling caught 
him completely.  
	Turning around was impossible, and he began to panic when he 
realized he was stuck.  "What the hell is this?" he asked out loud. 
	"A safety net," someone responded out loud.  The sound did not 
echo, and it seemed to come from inside his own head.  "Since we know 
your powers to be beyond any barrier we could produce, I am forced to 
meet with you in your mind."
	"Pardon?" Maury frowned, then blinked as his vision started to 
get blurry.  "What the hell?  I can't see!"
	"The net will ensure you don't move while I am in your mind.  
This is very important.  If you move too much, there could be damage 
when I enter and exit."
	
	Maury was suddenly in another room.  

	It was completely black, and the only feature was a spotlight 
coming from the ceiling.  He could see a thin wire-mesh barrier in 
front of him, dividing the room in half.
	Footsteps echoed in the room, until a small boy entered the light 
and stood on the opposite side of the wire fence.  Maury relaxed a bit 
as he found he could move again. 
	"This isn't real, but it will do for now," Emperor Sanis 
explained quietly.  His hair shone silver under the spotlight.  "Can I 
get you anything?  A chair?"
	Maury shrugged.  "Sure, why not?"  A chair was suddenly behind 
him.  Mo grinned and sat down.  "Hey, thanks.  Not every day I get 
offered a seat by the king of the Negaverse."
	The tiny man continued to stand.  "I have many questions."
	"Me too."
	"I will start with one of my own, then you may ask one.  Does 
this sound fair?" Sanis asked.  His voice was quiet, but unlike any 
tiny boy Mo had ever talked to.  So grown up.  So direct.  Not a hint 
of child in that voice. 
	"Sure," Maury shrugged, rubbing his hands together.  "Ask away."
	"How," Sanis said, "do you know of me?"
	Maury smiled.  "One of your captains we captured told us about 
you.  Said the Emperor was in orbit.  That this was an important 
mission."
	Sanis looked shaken at this information.  "How did you get a 
captain of my fleet to admit such knowledge?"
	"My turn," Maury interrupted with a grin. 
	Sanis blinked, then nodded.  "Of course, please."
	"Is my home safe?" Maury asked quickly.  "The solar station.  Is 
it safe?"
	"It is as per..." Sanis paused, as if still getting used to the 
phrase, "your surrender.  We have sent a communication, which was 
acknowledged, and we have landed a small group of guards to set up a 
camp.  To my knowledge, no hostilities have taken place." 
	Maury felt his entire being relax at those words.  "Thank you."
	It seemed to be Sanis' turn to pace.  He did so for a moment, 
eyeing the Senshi through the wire mesh.  Mo saw he wore a simple tunic 
over very plain pants, but they were tailored and hand-made.  
	"Please, answer truthfully.  How much did the captain you 
interrogated tell you?" Sanis asked finally.
	"Not so much," Mo shrugged.  "Said you were in a bind.  Said 
maybe we were your last hope.  I hear things aren't going so well for 
you back home."
	"I see," Sanis nodded.  
	"My turn," Mo said, leaning forward.  "Are you related to an old 
ruler?  Maybe by the name of Jadeite?"
	"No," Sanis said quickly, then moved to his own question.  "And 
now, I must ask you the question I'm sure you have been waiting for." 
He cleared his throat.  "You had destroyed half of our armada.  You 
could have stuck me down and killed my guards with your own bare 
hands...and yet you stopped.  Why is this?"
	Maury leaned back in his chair.  "Cause then that other half of 
your armada would have made my home a very dead place.  Maybe I thought 
you'd listen to reason.  Maybe I thought you were desperate enough to 
trust me so we wouldn't have to kill each other."
	"And what makes you think I would deal with a murderer?" Sanis 
shouted angrily.  The room seemed to wobble slightly as he did.
	"Same question," Maury smiled back calmly.  "And I think we both 
know it was because we'd both be dead by now if we didn't both take 
that chance."
	Sanis took a step back from the fence.  "I am not a murderer."
	"Then could you please tell whoever sent those three thousand 
troops to blow up the buildings and homes of my people to fuck off and 
stop telling you they aren't murdering people," Maury said angrily.  
"Don't mess with me.  You're in charge, right?"
	"Yes," Sanis frowned.  "I ordered the attack."
	"And I ordered our people to defend against that attack.  You 
obviously weren't thinking of negotiation, so we had to kill those 
people before they killed us."
	Sanis seemed to re-compose himself, walking back to the centre of 
the net.
	"Not so strange, is it?" Maury asked with a smirk.  "I'm sure 
you've had plenty of people fight back.  Not everyone likes to have 
their home blown up."
	"No, it is not so strange," Sanis agreed after a pause.  "I will 
ask my final question for now."
	"Sure, but then I get one more," Maury pressed. 
	"Very well," Sanis nodded.  "Are you one of the Senshi who 
attacked us back in the old age?"
	Maury debated lying to the boy briefly, but realized how silly it 
was to try to fool someone who could visit inside his head.  Sanis 
seemed willing to listen, regardless.  If he was going to hope for an 
ally, why not start with this boy? 
	"I was there, yeah, but we didn't start the fight," Maury said 
finally.  "We tried to help the best we could."
	Sanis seemed confused by the statement, but nodded.  "Our time is 
coming to a close.  Please ask your final question."
	"Can I speak to my people?" Maury asked.  "I'd like to tell them 
what's going on."
	"Of course," Sanis said.  "It will take some time to set up from 
this cell, but I think it will calm your people as well as my own if 
you announce the surrender yourself."
	"Cool," Maury nodded, leaning back in his chair.  
	"Please wait back in your cell until I can call on you again.  It 
may be a few more days," Sanis said, standing up as the room and his 
body started to fade.  
	
	The room was gone.  

	Maury found himself back in the hallway.  The cell was to his 
back.  He sighed and walked back into the dark little cube.  Despite 
many of his questions answered, he felt more and more coming to him.  
Having only a dark little room to wait in did not exactly make him 
excited. 
	He couldn't help but smile, however, when he saw the chair had 
been added to his cell.











Chapter 2










	Morning brought many surprises to the group as they arrived at 
the Missionaries dojo.  First of all, they saw three police cruisers 
parked outside, and two Coats with automatic rifles guarding the 
entrance.  
	"Okay, so who downloaded Metallica MP3's from the 'net?" Barlow 
asked as they presented their ID's to the guards.  
	"Not funny," Ian said as they walked through the doors.  "Did 
anyone hear any news last night?  Why would they suddenly be 
quadrupling security here?"
	Even more Coats were inside, and a woman most of them had not 
seen outside of press conferences was talking to Miharu off to the 
side.  She was a hand-length taller than Miharu, wearing a t-shirt and 
jeans, with a small boy laughing and running around her waist.  
	"That's Hooze," Jimmy whispered to the group as they walked in.  
"Does most of the actual work around the government.  She signs our 
paycheques and has a lot of spooky powers.  Don't piss her off, no 
matter what."
	"You're telling me," Karen said, walking up next to the group.  
	Jimmy gasped, then laughed, rushing over to the woman to give her 
a huge hug.  The other Missionaries looked away politely.  
	"What are you doing here?" Jimmy asked his old mentor.  
	"Good behaviour," Karen smiled at the young man.  "Plus, we've 
been testing magic all day.  Since I'm still one of the highest-ranking 
mages in the country, we wanted to give the circle a work-out."
	"Circle?" Jimmy asked, looking around.
	"You'll see.  Just give Miharu a moment with Hooze," Karen said.  
"Why don't you introduce me to these fine people?"
	Jimmy looked quite embarrassed.  "Of course!  Hey, guys!  This is 
my friend Karen!"
	Karen shook hands with each of the Missionaries, pausing at 
Barlow.  "I thought they would have killed you," she admitted to the 
blind mage. 
	"They offered me a job instead," Barlow smiled.  "I kinda like 
the way it turned out."
	"Me too," Karen smiled at the man.  "I'm glad.  Next time I'm 
able to, we should go out for dinner or something."
	"Sounds good to me," Barlow nodded, and to everyone's surprise, 
gave a small kiss to Karen's hand. 
	"Uhm, Karen," Jimmy interrupted quickly, red-faced.  "Can I talk 
to you for a bit?"
	"Sure," Karen smiled and waved at the Missionaries, before 
walking off with the younger boy.  
	Thomas turned to Barlow.  "How do you know Karen?"
	"The Voice," Barlow whispered.  "I was told she was kind of their 
kick-ass assassin mage.  Always wanted to meet her.  This is the first 
time I've met her, actually...but I was told she personally approved my 
membership when I joined up.  Knew every mage that worked for the cult 
and trained most of them."
	Danielle seemed excited at the possibility of having a girl to 
hang out with.  "Is she part of the program?"
	"Not sure," Barlow said.  "Jimmy would know more."
	"She's in prison right now," Thomas interrupted.  "I heard Jimmy 
mention it.  That's probably why we have so much security today."
	"Line up, people," Miharu said, walking over to them.  "We pay 
these cops overtime, so let's get started."
	Karen gave Jimmy a hug and he reluctantly joined the rest.  She 
joined Hooze and was followed out of the door by all but three of the 
Coats.  Jimmy looked slightly confused as he rejoined the ranks of 
Missionaries.  
	Beast told Evidence to wait in the corner, sensing something 
strange was about to happen.  "Everything alright?"
	"Yeah," Jimmy said quietly as Miharu spoke briefly to the 
remaining Coats.  "Just something Karen said."
	"Now, first up," Miharu cleared her throat, earning the attention 
of the assembled group.  "Today is extremely important, so I want you 
all to pay attention."
	"We always pay attention, Miharu," Barlow grinned at her.  
	"Yes," Miharu smiled gratefully.  "But today, your lives are on 
the line if you don't follow the rules.  Alright?"
	Everyone nodded with varying degrees of speed.  
	"Now," she said, pacing along the line of them, "we first have 
the matter of your swords.  I understand you haven't had that much 
training outside of bokken-practice, and I'm about to hand you live 
steel.   You know the rules, but I want to stress the importance of 
each of you respecting the weapons you will be receiving." Miharu's 
face got gravely serious.  "As of the moment you pick up your blade, I 
do not want to see any 'playing' around.  I will personally deal with 
anyone who unsheathes their blade in anger or foolishness.  Is this 
clear?"
	Nods came quickly.
	"Second of all," Miharu continued, "should anyone not want to use 
their blade, or be uncomfortable with the act of killing or harming  
with it, I want them to know that this is not required of the job.  
Each blade is designed for protection.  We will be focusing on 
techniques to disarm, disable and defend."
	Danielle raised her hand to comment.  "I'm not going to carry 
around some rusty old sword..."
	"Please," Miharu interrupted.  "It will make sense in a few 
minutes.  Some of you can defend others by offence, and others are best 
to support your team."
	There was a clamouring behind her, and she turned to see 
Matsumoto pushing a cart with several long, stacked boxes on it.  The 
smile on his old face was wide despite his attempt to look calm and 
professional, and Thomas noticed instantly that the boxes were 
identical to the one that had held his sword just a night before.  
	The boxes seemed secondary to everyone's mind, however, as a kind 
of tangible power filled the air.  Thomas could feel it better than 
anyone else with a sword of his own, though he suspected Beast could 
feel it through him.  It was as if he was suddenly standing next to a 
high-voltage power transformer without the audible buzzing.
	"Danielle," Miharu said quietly as Matsumoto opened the first 
box.  "You are first."
	Danielle looked as if she was riveted to the spot until Ian 
finally nudged her forward.  The 'sword' was more of a long staff with 
a pair of guards next to the handle, making it look like a kind of 
grey-metal branch from a tree.  
	"Not one rusty or sharp edge," Miharu said with a smirk. 
	"Thank you," Danielle said, holding the oversized tonfa as 
Matsumoto gave her a velvet-bag sheath to store the weapon in.
	"It's made from tempered silver," Matsumoto said, assisting her 
with tying it to her waist.  "Your magic is particularly sensitive to 
the metal from what we know.  You will be able to defend yourself, as 
well as give your natural powers a longer range."
	Danielle stepped off to the side, but seemed somewhat entranced 
with the new object on her side.  
	Matsumoto pulled forward another box and smiled at Ian.  "Now 
that ladies have gone, we can begin with the gentlemen."
	Ian walked over to the box, trying not to seem too excited, but 
all pretence left him when the lid of the case opened up to reveal his 
sword laying next to a long, ivory-coloured scabbard.  The blade itself 
looked fit for a Knight of the Round Table.  Wide but elegant.  When 
Ian lifted it up, it seemed far too light to be made of metal.  
	"Silver and titanium alloy," Yamato said proudly.  "One of the 
more brilliant mixtures I've formed to date, if I do say so myself."
	"It's wonderful," Ian said happily, sheathing the sword in its 
scabbard, then looking closer when he saw the magical writing on the 
blade seemed to be continued on the sheath itself.  
	Barlow's blade was next.  A blade made from aluminium alloy that 
shifted its shape to a club, then back to its razor-edge when he willed 
it to be done.  His scabbard was wood with Theban-etched metal inlaid 
on the edge that he could not warp or shift. 
	"It's important," Yamato explained as Beast unwrapped his blade.
	It was, at first glance, a heavy metal quarterstaff with the 
consistency of iron or lead, but with a long, razor-edge folded into 
one end of it that could be capped by a matching metal cap to hide the 
weapon within.  
	"What do you think?" Miharu asked Beast as he walked back to the 
others, letting a soft tap echo out as he used the staff as a walking 
stick. 
	"It is weighted very well," he said with a curious frown nearly 
hidden behind his beard.  "I am impressed."
	Jimmy was nearly bouncing up and down now, and when he pulled the 
long main-gauche from the box in front of him, he nearly passed out 
from joy.  It was a tapered blade that started six inches wide, ending 
at a point only three feet away, but had a complex hand-guard that 
seemed to be formed of gold and silver woven together.  "It's heavy," 
he exclaimed, sheathing it in a form-fitting scabbard.  
	"It's cored with stone.  Quartz.  Should help amplify your 
powers," Matsumoto said. 
	"Cool," Jimmy whispered, then noticed that each of their 
scabbards had similar Theban etched, written or woven into them.  "So, 
what does that do?"
	"Protection script," Yamato said.  "Activated when it is touched 
by you or your sword."
	Ian looked down at the scabbard.  "So it's on right now?"
	"Yes," Yamato said with a nod.  "But it's specific to high-
velocity and magic.  We didn't want it getting in the way of your 
walking or basic fighting."
	"You mean, like bullets?" Barlow asked.
	"Yes, we mean like bullets," Yamato laughed.  "Would you care to 
try it out?"
	Barlow nodded quickly.  "Hell yes!"
	Everyone else looked a bit worried when two of the Coats with 
automatic rifles stepped up into the ring.  
	"Now, here is the first lesson," Miharu said sternly as Barlow 
hopped into the ring.  "This is a shield, but it fails if you stress 
it.  The more experience you have with it, the better it will work.  
The more it will protect you and the less it will hinder you.  Hold on 
to your scabbard and don't move.  Gentlemen, please fire."
	The two Coats lined up their aim as Barlow gripped his scabbard 
tightly.  Two loud bangs echoed out in the training dojo a second 
later, and Barlow took a step back in surprise as the bullets bounced 
off his chest harmlessly, as if all their momentum was sapped away at 
the last second.  
	"Dude," Barlow turned to Jimmy, who looked so amazed that he was 
going to jump in next.  "I'm motherfucking Neo, man.  I can dodge 
bullets!"
	Miharu cleared her throat.  "When it's time...you won't have to."
	"Oh, please..." Danielle sighed as the rest of them chuckled.  
	Beast watched with a curious look on his face.  "I'm confused," 
he stated finally.
	"Beast?" Miharu asked.  
	"The scabbard is not a protection device," Beast said.  "It 
limits the power of the sword itself."
	Yamato looked shocked.  Miharu wasn't entirely surprised, but was 
beginning to wonder exactly what the man's powers gave him access to.  
	"The blade carries magic that powers the restraint-script on the 
sheath," Yamato said finally.  "As you progress in your training, you 
will find less need for safety and more use for the full power of your 
blade."
	"That's all fine for Jimmy," Danielle said with a frown.  "But 
I'd kind of not like to be shot even if I do get good with this thing."
	Miharu nodded, then moved over to Barlow.  "I don't like being 
shot either.  That's why, with training, you'll learn to do this," she 
said, nodding to the coats.  
	One stepped back and away.  The other flicked a switch on his 
weapon and levelled it at Miharu.  Miharu crouched slightly, hand 
resting on the hilt of her wakazashi.  
	"GO!" the other Coat shouted.  
	Miharu launched herself forward as bullets began to fly.  Every 
bullet that would have hit its mark exploded in a flash of blue light 
as she rushed the gun-firing man.  
	Even with full-automatic, the weapon only had time to fire ten or 
so rounds before Miharu was at the man's side, tripping him with her 
unsheathed sword to the back of his legs.  
	The whole thing lasted less than five seconds.  When the smoke 
cleared, Miharu was helping the man up with a laugh and a thank-you.  
	"You will learn to focus your sword's power into a shield.  For 
now, it is restrained and diffused so you can use it at its lowest 
level with little training," Yamato said, walking over to them.  "You 
will find that as your speed and skill increase, the scabbard will only 
hold you back.  We have prepared true scabbards for each of your blades 
when you feel it is time to continue to that level."
	Beast nodded, then looked over at the Coats.  "I will volunteer 
for this next demonstration, Miharu.  I do not wish anyone to worry."
	"What demonstration?" Barlow asked eagerly.  "Come on, I can do 
it.  You saw me deflect those two rounds."
	Miharu smirked.  "I want to show you what happens when the shield 
fails.  Still want to volunteer?"
	"Hell yes," Barlow said excitedly, jumping back up into the 
circle.  "Give me your best shot, guys."
	Miharu shrugged, then nodded towards the Coats. 
	Bullets peppered Barlow like a blizzard.  At first, like before, 
they slowed and stopped.  Suddenly, though, they began to push through 
faster and faster.  One nicked his arm, drawing blood and he let out a 
surprised yelp of pain before three more exploded into his chest.

	The guns went silent.

	Everyone but Beast watched with absolute horror as Barlow dropped 
to the mat with blood spurting everywhere.  
	Ian rushed up to the mat, but Miharu stepped in front of his 
path.  "I have to HELP him!  He's dying!!"
	Miharu shook her head, about to explain further, but Ian body-
checked her out of the way.  She was too surprised to retaliate, but 
walked over to him as he checked Barlow's pulse.  
	"No pulse," Ian said quietly.  All of a sudden, he raged against 
Miharu, jumping up and grabbing her shirt, nearly toppling her before 
she recovered and turned his attack down into the mat with an elbow-
lock.  "GET OFF ME!" he screamed as everyone else rushed up to help.  
	Beast stood in front, stopping them from rushing Miharu.  "I 
warned you.  I should have done the demonstration.  This would not have 
happened."
	Miharu turned to Beast and shook her head.  "No, this is fine.  I 
don't want you treating this like a toy.  You all have to see how real 
this can be." She slowly released Ian, who was shaking in rage.  "Now, 
help me pull him out.  I promise you he isn't dead."
	"He's dead," Ian insisted, rolling over in defeat.  "Those 
assholes shot him, and you ordered it."
	The two Coats stood off to the side stiffly.  It was clear they 
were concerned, but were trying to put on a strong front.  Beast walked 
over and picked up Barlow's legs.  Miharu ignored Ian for a moment and 
helped the man pull Barlow's body out of the dojo circle.  
	Less than a second after he left the circle, he gasped, coming 
back to life.  Ian did a double take as the air around Barlow seemed to 
warp and re-settle.  "Barlow?"
	"Hey," the blind mage said, gasping.  "What happened?  Did I 
die?"
	Before Ian could launch into a rant about how horrible Miharu 
was, Yamato cleared his throat.  "The rules are as follows:  All 
combatants must step in at the same time.  All combatants must leave 
the ring before the seven minute timer blares.  The timer is automatic 
and cannot be tampered with, and has several backups all monitored by 
security.  You will get a warning tone at four minutes, and a steady 
alarm will continue at five.  Guards will be alerted at six to assist 
if anyone gets incapacitated."
	"And what exactly does it do?" Thomas asked, checking Barlow's 
shirt, which had suddenly turned whole again.  Not a spot of blood was 
on his friend. 
	"Everything you do in this magic field," Yamato said loudly, so 
everyone could hear, "will reset when you leave it within seven 
minutes.  When you fight in this circle, it will effectively freeze you 
when you lose consciousness, your heart stops, or a dozen other 
conditions happen," Yamato explained. 
	"Then why," Barlow coughed, "do I still feel like I just got 
shot?"
	"It's a training tool, not a game," Miharu reiterated.  "If there 
was no consequence, then you would just get overconfident and cocky.  
It will still hurt, and if you mess up enough, bruises can add up to 
break bones, but that also means you remember the skills you practice 
when you leave the ring.  If it was completely time-sealed, you would 
stumble out and forget everything."
	"Why seven minutes?" Danielle asked.
	"It's angel magic," Ian said quietly, hiding his eyes from 
Miharu.  "Works like that."
	"Exactly," Yamato smiled.  "Also, seven people maximum at one 
time.  Any more than that and you negate any protection.  Keep that in 
mind."
	Barlow stood shakily.  "Okay, bullets are checked but we're 
swinging around swords.  What if we chop off an arm or a leg or a 
head?"
	"As you saw with Mister Barlow's shirt," Yamato said, "all damage 
will be repaired when the largest portion of you leaves the ring."
	"Don't get too overzealous," Miharu said.  "The magic will only 
work so much.  Completely destroying someone, like crushing them into 
paste, will negate the magic.  It can stop you on the cusp of death, 
but it cannot bring you back.  For that reason, you will be training 
initially with your swords and weapons in a controlled environment 
supervised by me or Yamato only.  No off-hours sparing."
	"This is really cool," Jimmy said with a laugh.  "Instant save-
point.  I can't wait to try it."
	Ian finally managed to look up at Miharu.  "I'm sorry I freaked 
out."
	"Don't be sorry about it," Miharu said, jumping into the circle.  
A large LCD clock began counting down on the wall behind them as she 
did.  "Most of you have already been shown the reality of death.  Some 
of you have caused it, and some of you have reversed it.  But you six 
will now be able to learn from it.  How to fight when you're wounded, 
even fatally, to protect those around you.  How to act if your partner 
is struck down next to you.  Practice on what is most effective and how 
to avoid those same attacks.  And at the end of it all..."
	Thomas jumped into the ring, unsheathing his sword.  Miharu had 
never been so proud of the man. 
	"You will be able to survive in this ring with me for three 
minutes," Miharu said, ducking easily under his first strike.  "Now, 
ALL of you.  Get in here."
	Thomas moved off to the side, holding his massive blade high.  
Barlow and Ian rushed under his arms and attacked with wide, sweeping 
strikes at Miharu.  
	Miharu jumped back easily, and brought out her sword to counter 
Beast, who had anticipated them knocking her back.  His staff hit 
nothing but air, however, as Miharu used it as a springboard to jump 
over Ian and Barlow, bringing her sword down hard on Thomas' shoulder.  
It sliced through his torso easily, and he collapsed, gasping for air 
as his right lung flooded with blood.  
	She rushed through the startled Ian and Barlow, giving each a 
slash to their sides.  Both stumbled out of the ring a moment later, 
clutching their phantom wounds.
	Jimmy and Beast were next, with Danielle finally getting the 
nerve to strike to the side of them.  
	Miharu's blade had slightly longer reach since it was re-forged, 
and caught Beast's throat just under his bushy beard.  He stumbled out 
of the ring, shocked, and again just as shocked when the wound 
disappeared as soon as he was free of the magic.
	Danielle managed the first parry against Miharu, mostly due to 
the shape of her tonfa.  Miharu's wakazashi, however, twisted and 
pulled the sword catcher right out of the girl's hand.  She raised her 
arms uselessly to protect herself, and fell out of the ring clutching 
her wrists that Miharu nearly cut clean though.  
	With only Thomas and Ian still in the ring, and Ian the only one 
standing, the young life mage decided to go for broke.  He raised his 
blade and shouted a rather impressive battle cry for his size and age, 
then rushed at her with a long, swooping diagonal strike. 
	Miharu ducked under the blade, however, and only had to press her 
own into Ian's side.  His momentum caused him to twist the weapon deep 
into his back, and he scrambled out of the ring, shaking.  
	"Not bad at all," Miharu grinned, walking over to Thomas finally.
	Before she could continue her speech, however, Thomas jumped up 
and attacked again, even with his entire side bloodied.  Miharu seemed 
startled, but only grinned where a sane person would have fled.  
	Thomas got the second parry on Miharu.  Her face betrayed her 
being impressed, and Thomas suddenly realized that she wasn't even 
fighting in full force.  "This is going to hurt, isn't it..." he 
mumbled to himself as Miharu grabbed his arm, twisted his sword out of 
his hand, and threw him into the air.
	He woke up outside the ring, right underneath the clock timer 
counting down.  

	6:01 - All six of them had been defeated in less than a minute.

	As they pulled themselves painfully off the ground, Miharu 
stepped out of the ring, noting with satisfaction that she didn't have 
to clean her sword.  It fell back into her scabbard with a light 
'shnick!'.  
	"All of you did very well," she said with a pleased look on her 
face.  "We will try this again every week or so.  Next time, you will 
be fighting in pairs so you can focus on individual style instead of a 
mob.  Thomas," she said, looking over to him.  "I want you to fight 
with Danielle against me next time.  Both of you were able to block my 
first attacks, but for very different reasons.  Try practicing 
together."
	Danielle looked grateful for the off-handed compliment, and 
walked over to him as Miharu paired the others together.  
	"Maybe next time we'll have a chance," Danielle smiled hopefully.
	Thomas looked at her.  She really didn't want to be there.  He 
could see it, but at least now she was trying her best.  "Eventually," 
he supposed, not sharing his realization that Miharu had been holding 
back.  
	Ian and Barlow limped past him, giving him a knowing nod at the 
echoing pain he was feeling.  Jimmy was talking with Miharu quietly 
when Beast came up to Thomas and placed a huge hand on his shoulder.  
	"Beast?" Thomas asked, looking up at him. 
	The huge man seemed unsettled by the experiences of the day.  "It 
is said we should be choosing a leader for our group soon.  Maybe not 
out loud, but I know the day will come."
	Thomas smiled and bowed his head.  "I'd be honoured to chose you, 
Beast."
	Beast looked suddenly embarrassed.  "By mentioning this, my 
intent was not to ask your blessings; rather, I am wondering if you 
would consider taking the role."
	"You're asking me?" Thomas blinked.  "Why?"
	"You were the only one," Beast explained, "who got back up again.  
Even with my knowledge of the safety magic in the air, I panicked and 
fled at the first hint of pain.  I know you think me wise...but if I am 
to claim any wisdom in this world, it would be to know that I am not 
suitable for such leadership."
	Thomas looked past the big, scruffy beard and the old, huge 
hands, and saw a very scared person hiding behind it all for the first 
time.  With a grunt, he stood, even then only reaching Beast's 
shoulders.  
	"I would be honoured," Thomas said finally.  
	Beast's face lit up and he nodded.  "I will let the others know.  
I doubt anyone will object."
	When Thomas turned around from watching Beast leave, he saw Jimmy 
walking past him with a wink and a 'subtle' thumbs up.  Miharu came 
over to him and nodded to Yamato and Matsumoto who left the room a 
moment later. 
	"What did you think?" Miharu asked.
	Thomas cleared his throat.  "It's incredible, to be honest with 
you, Miharu.  I'm sure this will help a lot."
	She nodded, then walked back over to the ring.  "I'm not lying 
when I say I'm counting on you, Thomas.  You and the others.  The only 
reason we can give you these things is because we need you.  The 
country needs you right now."
	"The six of us aren't that important," Thomas said with a smile.  
"You're the hero."
	"No, not me," Miharu shook her head.  "The whole point is that 
you are.  That everyone can be, and we're trying to help anyone who 
wants to.  Right now, and I'll be honest, we can't afford to help 
everyone.  When I ask for funding for this project, I have to fight 
with my father and my aunt and uncle for every dollar.  We're spread 
thin and tight right now because the entire world is changing, and 
everything with the government has to change to reflect that."
	Thomas walked over and sat down next to her.  She followed and 
slumped over slightly.
	"Problems will only get worse, so we need to make people better," 
she said quietly.  "So much attention is on money and the budget right 
now, because people are waiting for us to screw up, but throwing money 
at a problem won't fix it if we're apathetic.  Buying more Coats and 
military won't protect us if we earn too many enemies.  What I'm asking 
of you and the others is nothing less than revolutionary.  Can you 
understand that?"
	He nodded.  "I think I can."
	Miharu leaned forward.  "Scary as hell, isn't it?"
	He nodded quickly.  "Very."
	"Perfect," Miharu smiled, placing a friendly hand on his 
shoulder.  "Just keep that in mind and you'll do fine."











Chapter 3











	One hundred and eighty kilometres North West of the City of Fiss 
stood a large lake where three major rivers of the forest converged 
into one.  Small, salamander-like animals drank at the water's edge, 
pausing every few moments to eye the strange metal bird hovering around 
the lake in a slow, lazy circle.  
	Most birds that size wouldn't be traveling so low unless to hunt 
or to expire.  The salamanders knew they were not the favoured food of 
any bird due to the potent poisons in their skin, so they watched only 
with caution instead of fleeing outright. 
	Instead of flapping its wings, it seemed to glide unnaturally on 
the wind, as if propelled by some unseen force.  Only the softest hint 
of blue light echoed out in a cone from its tail.  After three full 
circles, it turned around and flew South-East in a perfectly straight 
line.
	One of the salamanders squeaked at the group of five, sensing 
something strange in the air.  They jumped up from the edge of the 
river and fled quickly into the forest, just as a small point of orange 
light appeared over the water.  
	The tiny point of light hovered closer to the shore, then began 
to open up into an oval-like portal.  An old man with a nearly-bald 
head and a look of concentration on his face stepped out of the portal 
and stood on the water, looking around.  
	"Adjust," he shouted loudly, "nine cubits North.  COMPLETE!"
	The oval of light flew past him to the shore, then began to grow 
to the size of a baseball diamond.  
	Dragons came first, pulling a gigantic wagon as they trotted onto 
the rocky shore and towards the field of grass around the water.  
	People were next.  One hundred people in less than a second.  The 
pace only sped up as the orange portal moved along the field, 
depositing more and more of the crowd.  Most people walked, some 
limped, and even more hauled huge packs and human-pulled carts full of 
food, clothing and other supplies.  Soon, there were thousands.  
Further thousands, each with tall men and women in robes guiding them 
came next.  
	It took over an hour for everyone to arrive.  A younger man in a 
long white coat walked over to the mage as he continued to concentrate 
on the spell.  Neither spoke.  When it was finally done, the entire 
City of Fiss was there.  The Knight caught Battra by the shoulders as 
the old mage almost keeled over.
	"I'd rather not do that again," the old man said sternly to the 
Knight.  
	"I'll do it next," Fiss offered as they walked over the water 
towards the shore.  
	Battra gave the younger man a critical eye.  "You don't have the 
strength."
	Fiss didn't bother responding.  Either he was wrong or Battra was 
wrong.  Obviously the sentiment wouldn't get anyone what they wanted 
either way.  
	"Go back to your friends," Battra said quietly as they reached 
the shore. "I don't need your assistance, My Lord."
	Fiss winced at the word.  "Fine.  Call me if you need anything."

	The camp set up slowly compared to the feverous days of the week 
before.  Everyone was happy and enjoying the kind weather.  People were 
filling their water skins in the river, and taking baths downstream.  
Fish were caught, and small hunting parties were already bringing back 
wild game from the surrounding woods.  
	Beavis munched slowly on a beetle that was as big as a fist, 
looking up at the group around him.  Fiss stared gloomily over at the 
archangel tent, chewing on a piece of cattail.  Nathan was busy packing 
up the scout drone after checking its systems.  Jesminder and her 
cameraman were cleaning up in the downstream.  Tambre, the young woman 
they'd rescued from the Aszap cherub was sitting by the trees, watching 
the whole scene quietly.  Everyone else seemed intent on setting up 
camp.  
	"Fiss," Beavis said quietly.  "You're brooding."
	"I am not," Fiss grumbled, spitting out the cattail.  
	Beavis let a small grin curl up the side of his snout.  "If you 
were this much Goth, you'd be shitting bats.  What does this much 
'brooding' shit out?"
	"Zerg rushes?" Fiss offered passively.
	"Yeah, that works," Beavis cleared his throat.  "You're so 
brooding you shit Zerg."
	"And you're so full of shit, Beavis, that you shit...uhm, shit." 
Fiss grumbled. "Yeah."
	Beavis hovered up to his shoulder and sat down on it.  "I'm glad 
to see your legendary wit has not left you in these difficult times."
	Fiss' hand came up and grabbed the hedgehog before he could puff 
out his quills.  "So, Beavis, when was the last time you had a bath?"
	"WHAT?!" Beavis shouted.  "You wouldn't DARE!"
	The tiny speck of Beavis hit the water a moment later.  Fiss sat 
back down from the throw and pulled his scabbard out from his waist.  
"Now I see why talking pet sidekicks are outlawed in some countries."
	"They are?" Jesminder asked, walking over to him.  "Which ones?"
	"I'm sure the list is very extensive.  Crystal Canada should be 
on it soon," Chris grinned evilly at the little hedgehog-shaped wake 
swimming back towards them.  
	She smiled and sat down next to him.  "I don't know, he seems 
pretty sweet to me."
	"Yeah.  Gives me cavities," Fiss smirked, drawing in the dirt by 
his feet with the end of his scabbard.  
	"What's on your mind?" Jess asked quietly.  "You're usually not 
this brooding.  I've seen you happier after tallying the casualty list 
for this trip."
	"I'm not brooding."
	"He's brooding," Beavis hissed, shaking his quills at Fiss and 
getting an impressive amount of water onto the human.  "I'll be in my 
bunk."
	Jess gave the hedgehog a gentle pat on the back as Fiss stood up 
to look out over the water and wring out his shirt.  "Battra?" she 
asked finally.
	"No," Fiss turned at her sharply, then sighed.  "Yes.  And no.  
It's not him, personally."
	"How he's treating you?" Jess offered, walking over to him.  
	"How he's serving me," Fiss corrected.  When he saw her confused 
face, he shook his head.  "Jess, it's taken me a few years to get this 
far.  I feel good.  Confident.  I know I can help people, and I know 
I'm good at that.  I do it because I WANT to, not because I feel some 
need to prove myself, and I certainly don't do it because I want some 
kind of title or respect.  He rips it all down and acts like I own him 
like a slave or a servant.  It pisses me off.  I can barely stand just 
having people think I'm their leader, but I do it for Hooze and 
Demeter's sake so they don't get overwhelmed.  I don't think I'll ever 
really get used to it."
	She smiled softly.  "That's what they like about you."
	"And he knows it, and he's doing this on purpose," Fiss brooded.  
"Shit, I AM brooding, aren't I."
	"Very much."
	"Shit."
	Jess laughed and pulled him back from the water by his arm.  
"You're complete opposites, that's all.  He rules by knowing everything 
and having all the power and answers.  He doesn't like that you 
challenge that so easily with kindness and intuition.  You may not be 
looking for it, but he knows the people will respect you – probably 
more than they respect him."
	Fiss looked over at the Archangel tent.  "Yeah, but he was 
right."
	"And if you were there for the attack, all that would have 
happened is you may have had to watch those poor people die of poison 
in addition to the deaths from the battle," Jess said quietly.
	"I know," Fiss sighed, kneeling down at the edge of the water.  
He began looking for a rock flat enough to skip across the surface.  
"That's what bothers me the most.  The no-win situation."
	"What about your new friend?" Jess asked, looking over to the 
dress-clad young woman who was now helping a few of the children gather 
firewood.  "Nathan mentioned the cherub you fought.  Aren't you glad 
there's one less of those now?"
	"Yes," Chris said quickly.  "But I wish we'd got more information 
first.  I want to know how they got a hold of one.  It was..." he 
paused, winding up and skipping the rock once in a failed spin.  
"Weird."
	
	The day went by quickly, and Fiss forced himself to walk over to 
the Archangel tent once more.  He snuck into the makeshift dining area 
as the group was laughing and chatting loudly.  Hoping not to 
interrupt, he grabbed a bowl and helped himself to a mushy substance 
that seemed the equivalent of beef and potato stew.  The moment he sat 
down, however, Battra ordered a hush, surprising all but Fiss.  
	"To our Lord's health," Battra announced loudly, raising his mug.  
"May it never falter."
	"Amen," the table announced quickly. 
	Fiss cleared his throat before the eating began anew.  "To our 
Arch-mage's brilliance, and the five or more days travel he has saved 
our House."
	Battra's face was completely unreadable as the table announced 
"Amen!" heartily.  Fiss sat back down with a barely-visible smile and 
began enjoying his meal for the first time in days as Battra watched 
him from across the table.  

	That evening, while the sun was setting, a great commotion beset 
the camp as the hunters returned from their day's labour.  Beasts of 
every shape and size were on the hunters' backs and on their carts, 
from deer with wild, twisted antlers to giant, beefy bison with dark 
red fur.  Hundreds of animals to feed thousands of families.  Fiss, 
while helping to move the animals, spotted Jesminder and Jean following 
a local medicine woman around, taping her as she explained the 
medicinal qualities of the beasts they were preparing and skinning.  
Tambre offered to assist, and she was finally forced to change clothes 
when the threat of entrails and sinew staining her dress became real.  
	A few minor arguments broke out when some people tried to hoard 
meat or supplies, but the problem wasn't widespread and ended 
peacefully when an Archangel or Fiss stepped in.  It was almost 
surprising that everyone was willing to share with so little fuss.
	"They've been doing it for so long," Nathan explained as Fiss 
brought up this relief.  "It's probably just second nature now.  I 
wonder how they'll react once we get back to Crystal Canada."
	Everyone looked happy, more or less.  Tired, but happy.  The 
death toll was one hundred souls as of that morning.  Another was to 
likely pass away by the evening.  Natural causes, except for the sixty-
three who had died during the surprise attack.
	Nathan and Fiss sat on the far edge of the water, with the former 
cleaning one of his twin pistols on a small blanket in front of him.  
"You ever shoot?"
	"Twenty-Two.  Rifles," Fiss admitted.  "Dad and I used to go 
grouse hunting."
	"Grouse?"
	"Yeah, prairie-chickens, we used to call them," Fiss said, 
picking at the rocks in front of him.  "They'd eat the tiny rocks on 
the side of the road during the day.  Gizzards and digestion and all 
that stuff.  We'd go out at dusk while they were moving from the roads 
to the trees to roost."
	"I miss those times," Nathan smiled briefly, then pushed it away 
as he reassembled his gun.
	"How do you mean?" 
	"Something other than people," Nathan shrugged.  "Or paper 
targets shaped like people."
	Fiss smiled and nodded, picking up a handful of stones, sorting 
through them quietly.
	"What the hell was that thing?" Nathan whispered.
	"What thing?"
	"The horse-thing with the mask.  The thing we fought," Nathan 
said, quietly brushing away excess oil on his weapon's springs.
	"A Cherub," Fiss said, looking around as if one would pop up out 
of the bushes.  "I didn't think civilians could use them.  Only Uriel's 
house."
	"Use them?"
	"They're servants, primarily," Fiss said.  "I sent Michael an e-
mail about them.  He said he was surprised too, and was looking into 
it.  Eden's Will shouldn't be able to control them, and nobody in 
Uriel's ranks is talking about any deals they made."
	"They aren't built like servants," Nathan said quietly.  "How 
many butlers do you employ with swords and black belts?"
	"Maybe nine or ten," Fiss smirked.  "I kid.  I know what you 
mean."
	"Assassin job maybe?  Bodyguard?" Nathan offered.
	Fiss nodded.  "Must have been."
	"And our little bride-to-be?"
	"Pardon?"
	"That's a wedding dress she was wearing," Nathan said quietly, 
picking out Tambre on the other side of the lake.  "So why is a bride 
out in the middle of the city being chased by a body-guard and a team 
of goons?"
	Fiss looked at Nathan.  
	"You didn't notice?" Nathan blinked, then smirked.  "Ahh, that's 
right.  Engaged.  Never married."
	"You..." Fiss smirked, dropping most of the stones, "really want 
to test me, don't you?"
	Nathan turned to him with a hard look in his eyes.  "Every chance 
I get."
	Fiss signed and weighed the last two stones on the backs of his 
hands.  "Don't suppose you'll tell me what shit in your frosted flakes 
this morning?"
	"You first," Nathan smirked. 
	"I don't eat frosted flakes," Fiss said, dropping the stone on 
his left.  "And I fully admit I was full of brooding earlier, but 
telling-off the old man seems to have lifted my spirits.  So, tell me 
what's bugging you or I'll be forced to engage you in a rock skipping 
competition.  And, as you can see, I'm not one to lose easily.  This is 
the best damn skipping rock on this beach."
	"No it's not.  It's too heavy," Nathan sighed, finishing his gun 
assembly with a loud click, then sliding a clip into the bottom.  "That 
one you dropped is better."
	"Better back your words up, tough-guy," Fiss said, stepping aside 
so Nathan could grab the other stone.  
	"Seriously, though," Nathan whispered.  "I've been thinking about 
this.  Is it possible someone in the Archangels wants to be found?  Or 
Tambre?  Doesn't it seem strange we find a person who can cure that 
poison only hours after those birds attack?"
  	"Could be a coincidence," Fiss said half-heatedly.  
	"Those birds were trained," Nathan continued.  "They'd normally 
scatter when attacked like they were.  We launch fireballs at them and 
they just keep coming.  They were trained."
	"The archer chicks tell you that?"
	"No," Nathan said.  "I guessed as much, but I also asked around 
and it seems we have a few falconers in the group that confirmed my 
suspicions."
	"Why did you say the Archangels then?  We could just tell the 
girl to go her own separate way and make sure she does," Fiss said.
	"We would have noticed her," Nathan said "if she was out in the 
field when we left the group.  No way she could have traveled from the 
path to the city without flying like we did in that amount of time.  
I'm saying someone knew where we would be exactly and sent those birds 
after us."
	Fiss nodded.  "Could have just been a lucky attack.  Stumble upon 
us like that by accident.  Not too many places for a group this big to 
hide."
	Nathan shook his head.  "Maybe.  I admit, that's the part that 
doesn't quite sit perfect with me.  But I'm just wondering if it's so 
strange to have someone in the camp who's giving us away."
	"One hundred thousand suspects, man," Fiss smiled uneasily.  "I'm 
sure a lot of them would rather just sell us out and get a nice comfy 
life with someone else," his expression softened.  "But most were 
willing to die for their loyalty.  We have to keep that in mind too."
	"The Word?  Is it a binding contract?" Nathan asked, winding up 
and throwing the stone hard.  It skipped nearly ten times before 
finally hitting the crest of a wave, sinking when it did.
	"All depends on the person signing it," Chris said, winding back.  
"Now, check this shit out," he chuckled, then threw the stone. 
	It plopped into the water unceremoniously after a single skip.  
Nathan tried not to chuckle, and just barely covered the attempt with a 
fake yawn.  
	"I meant to do that," Fiss said with a cough.  "Yeah."

	Nathan's words were still echoing in Chris' mind as the City of 
Fiss settled down for the night.  He knew very well that out of the 
countless people of unknown character there could be a betrayer in 
their midst.  Even the simple math was against them.
	Perched on the far side of the lake, he found himself looking up 
at the stars above.  There seemed to be so few.  So very few compared 
to Earth.  What did Lucifer say?  Lifetimes ago?  Was there really much 
more than this planet here in Eden?  Such thoughts left him feeling 
empty and missing Crystal Canada.  
	The alternative set of thoughts in his head wasn't any more 
comforting, even if it led to less homesickness.  Over and over, he 
thought of the last few days.  How uneasy and different everyone had 
been acting after the attack.  Nerves or something else, he wondered.  
Realization of the 'Rule' of Eden?  That this was not going to be easy.  
Maybe that's all it was.  People finally getting worried.  
	Those birds could have wiped out three hundred people in the 
blink of an eye.  What if they got to the lead wagon and killed half 
the Archangels?  If half their fighters were killed, they would almost 
have a better chance of survival if everyone just made a mad dash for 
the border.
	"I almost feel bad," Tambre announced suddenly, startling Fiss 
out of his fog of thought.  "From the legends I've been hearing about 
you, I thought I wouldn't be able to sneak up on you."
	Fiss straightened out his clothes and moved over on the rock he 
was sitting on, offering her a seat.  She had returned to her pale 
dress from the work-clothes she had been wearing earlier.  "Yeah, well, 
I've been known to mess up once in a while."
	She seemed to hesitate at the offered seat, but then finally slid 
up next to him and straightened out the long fabric around her.  "No 
more than the rest of us, I'm sure."
	"So what's your story, anyway?" Fiss asked, looking at the 
rolling reflections of stars from the surface of the lake.
	"My story?"
	"Yeah," Fiss smiled.  "Everyone has a story.  Even if it's just a 
boy-girl story, there's always something."
	She looked at him with curious eyes.  "Boy-girl?"
	"Boy meets girl.  Girl meets boy.  Maybe just boy meets girl, 
they have a baby girl named Tambre.  I find a lot of good stories start 
like that," he smiled.
	"I'm afraid I don't understand," Tambre shrugged. 
	"Well, see those two kids over there," Fiss pointed at a pair of 
youngsters playing together in the water.  Very obviously not brother 
and sister, but they seemed to be having a lot of fun together by 
splashing around.  "Boy meets girl.  They go play in the water and have 
fun."
	"Oh, well," she paused.  "Girl meets boy.  Boy saves girl from 
the monster.  Girl owes boy a boon."  Her eyes watched him for a 
reaction, but when he stared blankly at her, she cleared her throat.  
"What I mean to say is that what I did for you was only a matter of 
convenience.  You twice helped me, and I have only repaid the lesser of 
your kindness."
	"Twice?" Fiss asked.
	"Yes," Tambre said.  "By taking me with your group, you've saved 
me from whatever future horrors were sent to that town to find me.  In 
the right city, my act of preparing the antitoxin would have been worth 
barely a copper, and thus I still owe you a boon."
	"What," Fiss asked, "is a boon...exactly?"
	She smiled uneasily, dreading having to answer but compelled to 
do so truthfully.  "Anything you would desire," she said with a tiny 
shrug.  "I could lay and let you cleave..."
	"Cleave?" Fiss blinked, then turned bright red.  "Uhm..."
	She nodded, turning just as red.  
	Chris cleared his throat and picked up another skipping stone, 
determined to have at least one good skip before the day was out.  
"Well, I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I've never heard about 
boons before, so it seems you're off whatever hook you think you might 
be on."  The stone skipped once, but failed after the first bounce on 
the water's surface.  "Fuck," he mumbled.  "Must be the gravity."
	"My honour demands it," Tambre insisted loudly, then turned even 
redder than before.  "N...not to seem too eager..." she gasped "or not 
eager!  Or indifferent!  I mean..." 
	"Here, hold this," Fiss said, tossing her another stone as he 
rummaged through his pockets.  
	Her embarrassment subsided as she caught the stone.  Curiosity 
again kicked in, and she began examining it closely.  "What are you 
trying to do?"
	"Make this freaking rock bounce off the water when I throw it," 
Fiss said, then laughed.  "Ahh ha!" he said, pulling out a Sharpie 
marker.  
	"But I saw...you made that other stone bounce," Tambre said, 
confused as she took the marker's cap and exchanged it for the stone.  
	"Just once, though," Fiss explained.  "I must just be unlucky 
today...so I'm going to fix this rock.  A little bit of cheating.  You 
won't tell Nathan, will you?"
	She smiled.  "No."
	"Alright," Fiss chuckled, finishing the Theban character for 
'skip' with the Sharpie on the flat side of the rock before packing the 
pen away.  "Now, check this out," he said excitedly.  "This sucker's 
gonna fly to the other end of the lake." 
	"Are you sure that will work?" Tambre asked.  "I don't think that 
symbol was meant to be used like that."
	"Trust me, ma'am," Fiss said, stepping back and winding up his 
arm.  "I'm from the Internets."
	He tossed it hard, putting the stone into a perfectly flat spin 
with an optimal angle that would have made any rock-skip-veteran proud.  
To his downright shock, the stone slid into the water despite its angle 
and speed, as if it had simply been tossed into a bucket without 
regard.  Not one skip resulted.  He was crushed.
	Tambre cleared her throat as Fiss growled and kicked a rock into 
the water.  It did not help his mood that the kicked stone skipped 
twice.
	"There, that's your boon..." Fiss leaned forward.  "Never ever 
mention to anyone how horrible at skipping stones I am."
	"No, I'm afraid you'll have to ask me seriously," she laughed,  
but then shook her head.  "It's perfectly acceptable, you understand.  
I owe you.  It's the least I can do."
	"So, do guys always ask for sex as boons?" Fiss sighed, sitting 
back down on the large rock he had been perched on earlier.  "You seem 
to be pretty accepting about the whole situation."
	"I'm surprised you didn't know," Tambre said quietly, her joking 
tone leaving her voice. 
	"I know, but I'm just trying to be polite," Fiss smiled back.  
	"Oh," she nodded.  
	"How about a big secret?" Fiss asked suddenly.  
	Tambre shrugged.  "I don't know what I could tell you, really.  
I'm just a..."
	"Why were they chasing you?" Fiss wondered out loud, but knew he 
had struck gold when her face drained of all colour.  "You must know 
why, right?"
	She sat motionless for a moment, considering what to say.  "I 
would rather have you take me to bed, actually..."
	"I toss and turn all night," Fiss smirked.  "And snore, or so 
I've been told.  You wouldn't like it.  My question is adequate for the 
boon, right?"
	"Yes," she said hastily, but shivered as if a sudden wave of cold 
was washing through her.  "But, I can't tell you.  Not just yet."
	"You..." Fiss leaned forward.  "You aren't working for the 
Council, are you?  Or being forced to, or anything else, are you?"
	"Truth is very difficult," she swallowed back the fear in her 
throat.  "Indirectly, perhaps, but it has nothing to do with your 
exodus," she said with pleading eyes.  "I swear, I have not, and will 
not do anything to your people."
	Fiss felt the warning klaxons in his head and heart loud and 
clear, but if she was sent by Basst...why would she admit any ties to 
the Council at all?  
	"I swear to you!" she said quickly, sensing his hesitation.  
"Upon the Word itself!  I have no wings to gamble, but surely you 
understand what that means!" 
	"Can you tell me?" Fiss asked quietly.  "Eventually?  Before it 
causes trouble if you see it will?"
	"It won't," she said quickly.  "I promise.  I'm certain.  I can 
tell you soon, but..." she looked very weak and fragile.  "I need to be 
sure.  I will.  I promise."
	Fiss sighed and nodded, sitting up.  "Alright.  So now does that 
get rid of this silly boon thing?"
	"Yes," she said, sounding much more relieved than he thought she 
would.  
	"Then I'm going to bed," Fiss announced, standing and 
straightening out his coat.  
	Tambre nodded shyly.  "I could always repay my boon with a 
massage, maybe?"
	"Tempting, but too late," Fiss smiled.  "Besides, Beavis is a 
great back scratcher.  I wouldn't want him to think I was letting 
anyone take his job."
	She nodded, then bowed her head.  "Good night, then.  I'm sorry.  
I know you're upset."
	"These long days are just getting to me," he said with a smile.  
"Not to worry." 
	Fiss turned and started walking towards the Archangel caravan.  
All of a sudden, he began to realize just how true the statement was.  
Days like this were starting to get to him, and despite the fatigue in 
his bones, he couldn't sleep until long after he slipped into bed.  











Chapter 4











	A stocky man with dark sunglasses sat behind the counter, reading 
an issue of Sandman with badly hidden enthrallment.  Harvey swallowed 
hard, looking around for his contact.  The only others in the store, a 
pair of teenaged boys, were laughing and chuckling in the back where 
they were rummaging through older comics.  As the door closed behind 
him, a gust of wind brought a strange smell past his nose.  It was like 
something burnt that had suddenly been frozen.  Icy ash.  
	"Excuse me," Harvey said quietly, approaching the counter.  His 
eyes wandered along the walls and bookshelves, spotting an incredible 
wealth of strange titles.  "I'm looking for someone.  I was told to ask 
for Amon?"
	Amon did not look up at Harvey, but turned the page on his 
graphic novel with a hand half hidden by a biker's leather glove.  
"Depends on what you're looking for."
	"You sell comics?"
	"You don't strike me the type to read them," Amon said with a 
sigh, realizing he was not going to get rid of the man without actually 
paying attention to him.  "Tell me what you're looking for, and I'll 
tell you if I'm selling it."
	"Information," Harvey said quietly, glancing at the kids.  "And 
something to help with a nasty cough."
	Amon looked the man over carefully.  "You're a mage, aren't you," 
he said.  He hadn't been asking, but Harvey nodded.  "Don't worry about 
the boys.  They're cool," Amon continued, sliding the soft cover book 
in his hands down onto the glass and marble countertop.  "Let's start 
with your cough."
	"Something for the pain, at least," Harvey said, trying not to 
sound desperate.  
	Amon stood up from his seat, then walked over to a small 
Tupperware container sitting inconspicuously on one of the shelves 
behind him.  "You smoke?"
	"What?" Harvey asked. 
	"Do you smoke.  Do you know how to smoke," he said tiredly.  "I 
get the odd person here who suddenly backs down because they're scared 
for their health."
	"I used to," Harvey shrugged.  "Can't anymore, though.  Hurts too 
much."
	Amon opened up the plastic container and retrieved a long, 
elegant cigar that Harvey suspected was hand-made.  It was wrapped with 
a small bit of twine in its centre and faint markings were visible in 
the brown leafy paper.  He handed it to Harvey without a word, then 
tossed him a book of matches. 
	"Uhm..." Harvey shrugged.  "Thanks?"
	"It won't stop the cancer or whatever the hell it is," Amon 
warned as he sealed back up the box.  "But you strike me as a man with 
a mission, not a retirement plan."
	"Maybe both if it works," Harvey nodded, pocketing the cigar and 
matches.  
	Amon sat back down and kicked his feet up onto the counter.  
"That will help the pain, anyway.  Just don't get too cocky..." he 
stopped himself and gave a little smirk to the far wall.  "Me, giving 
good advice, who would have thunk it?"
	"Pardon?"
	"Pain.  You won't feel much," Amon said with a long yawn.  "But 
pain keeps you alive too.  Remember that.  It's the only thing that's 
got me this far," he paused with a darker little smirk on his mouth.  
"Course, it's usually me causing it."
	"How much do I owe you?" Harvey asked, reaching into his coat 
pocket.
	"We're not done yet," Amon said.  "You need information?  Someone 
like yourself, as I've said, on a mission, usually needs interesting 
information.  I may be willing to ignore any price-tags if that 
information proves interesting enough."
	Harvey smirked.  "They should have you teaching business 
courses."
	"Who says I didn't?" Amon shrugged, then let his feet drop so he 
could lean forward.  "Now.  You have what you want.  Tell me what you 
need."
	Harvey's hand paused on the ID badge in his pocket.  "Why are you 
helping me?"
	Amon grinned.  "I'm not.  I'm selling a service for information.  
Strictly business, I can assure you."
	"And if the information isn't interesting?"
	"A couple bills will suffice," Amon said quickly, clearly 
coveting information over money.  "Twelve-hundred for the cigar if you 
want to go that route."
	"WHAT?!"
	"Plus GST," Amon continued as if Harvey hadn't just shouted.  "A 
bargain, I assure you.  But you're a mage.   You're a driven man.  I 
can spot people like you from a Hell away.  Let me see what's in your 
pocket before I take it myself."
	Something in Amon's voice made Harvey take a step back.  Amon 
smiled silently and slid back in his chair.  His eyes were perpetually 
hidden by his dark sunglasses.
	"I'll tell you what..." Amon said in a cold whisper.  "That smoke 
will last you about two weeks if you don't push yourself.  I'll get you 
another, right here and now, if your information is worth it.  If it's 
worth it, I want to keep you happy," he grinned, showing white, 
slightly pointed teeth.  "The customer is seldom wrong."
	"It's," Harvey cleared his throat, "'The Customer is Always 
Right', isn't it?"
	Amon raised an eyebrow, as if hearing the phrase for the first 
time.  "I wouldn't go that far."
	Harvey looked around.  This was why he came, he reminded himself.  
A week worth of harassing drug dealers and scam artists just to find 
someone with something that his system couldn't break down into useless 
elements the moment he tried to ingest or inject it.  The pain was 
edging back in the corner of his mind, pressing him to accept the deal.  
	"Fine," Harvey said quickly, stepping forward and slapping the ID 
card on the counter.  
	It had barely touched the surface when it was up in Amon's hands.  
The stocky man began examining it as if it held all the secrets Harvey 
needed to know.  
	"I need to get him away from that fortress they have him in, or 
info on the security or codes.  I need him to do his healing on me or 
I'm dead inside of six months," Harvey said stiffly, watching Amon's 
eyes light up.  "What?"
	Amon grinned at him, pocketed the card and pulled the Tupperware 
box off the shelf once more.  "I'll have your information in four days.  
If I can't bring you to him, I'll bring him to you."
	Harvey tried not to look too surprised when Amon handed him two 
more of the cigars.
	"Come back Monday," Amon said, sealing the rest away.  "Oh, and 
smoke those slowly.  It's a bit of a rush if you're not used to it," he 
chuckled, before sliding back into his seat and lifting the Sandman 
novel to his gaze once more.  
	Harvey left the store in silence, cradling the treasure in his 
pockets, with the confused satisfaction in his mind that he had come to 
the right place.  











	Not terribly far away, only a few hundred kilometres instead of a 
few million miles, three egg-sized balls of light touched down behind 
the Crystal Canada City Hall complex.  As they hit the grassy field, 
the three popped and give birth to Dave, Dora and Jimmy, who stumbled 
into the cool morning air.  
	Dave quietly brushed his coat as Dora and Jimmy stumbled to their 
knees from the shock and began dry-heaving at the side of the river.  
"It will pass in a moment," he said quietly, patting the young boy on 
the back.  
	"C...cold..." he shivered, looking around with an almost 
terrified look on his face.  "Where's Sol?  How far away are we?"
	Dora took a handful of water from the river and cleaned her mouth 
from the dry, electric taste.  "Look up, Jimmy," she said, smiling at 
him as he realized the (relatively) tiny orb of light in the sky was 
his home.  
	Dave sighed as he took out his PDA and made a call.  "Hooze, 
yeah, Dave here.  We need to talk.  No, I'm right here.  Good.  We'll 
be at the front door in ten minutes," he said, then hung up and pulled 
a large winter coat from his thin white lab coat to give to Jimmy.  
"Put this on.  It will make up for the temperature difference."
	The boy nodded and quickly bundled himself up, shivering still in 
the mid-day summer air.  After they began walking toward the giant 
building they had landed next to, his shivers turned to an open jaw of 
wonder.  "How does the stone shimmer like that?" he asked quietly.
	Dora saw that Dave was intent on walking and turned to the boy.  
"Maybe later, Jimmy.  There's a lot to be done, and we have to get back 
before they notice."
	Dave was already calling the Omega Web by the time they reached 
the front doors, greeted by a surprised Captain Kirk.  "Conference room 
three," he stated, tossing Dave an elevator key.  
	The Omega Webber ignored it, letting it bounce harmlessly off his 
wrist.  "Sonia.  Edmonton, C.C. Hall.  Conference room three.  I'll 
copy you on the conversation once I have time," he said briskly into 
his PDA, before pocketing it, grabbing Dora and Jimmy by the shoulders, 
and turning to light once more.
	Kirk sighed, watching the light zip up through the ceilings.  
"Right," he mumbled, picking up the elevator key from the floor.  
"Could have said 'Hi' at least..."
	Hooze had just opened the door to the conference room when she 
saw three shimmers of light depositing the group in the corner.  "Don't 
you people ever use the stairs?" she smiled, closing the door behind 
herself.  
	"Not now, Hooze," Dave said, tossing his PDA card onto the 
elongated oak table.  
	The group sat down as Dave snapped his fingers, and a video 
hologram was projected into the air above the table, showing a scene he 
had recorded earlier that day.  Several dozen very tanned people were 
gathered by a communications kiosk that was of an alien design compared 
to the sun and Arabic influence of the people and the city around them.  
	Negaverse soldiers, Hooze realized quickly enough, were standing 
in pairs around the street, trying not to look uncomfortably hot in 
their black organic armour.  Andrea looked to Dave, but he didn't look 
ready to explain yet.  
	A hushed murmur came over the gathered people as the screen 
flickered to life, showing an image of Maury.  Hooze stood when she saw 
he was bound and being held by two imposingly large guards behind him.  
	"Citizens of Sol," Maury said after a long pause, shocking the 
audience with his tired voice.  "I am sorry it took so long to be able 
to speak to you about the ceasefire.  I thank everyone for keeping 
their tempers cool and their weapons down.  I only have a few moments 
to speak to you for now, but I will try to give you updates on the new 
treaty as they are formed."
	There was a quiet grumble from the crowd.  The people closest to 
the recording's source were clearly angry.  "Treaty?  I'd rather die 
than ally with these killers!" one man said.  A few others agreed, but 
as Maury continued talking, the commentary dropped off. 
	"I have offered surrender in exchange for the safety of our home, 
and everyone's life on the Sol Platform," Maury said quietly.  "I have 
come to realize that, if the fighting were to continue, two great 
peoples would be destroyed, and neither of us will get what we want.
	"I will be working with Emperor Sanis over the next few weeks to 
ensure both the Negaverse, and the Solar System can co-operate in 
peace, even after the hasty mistakes during first contact," Maury said 
plainly, "on both sides of this conflict."
	"Both sides?" Hooze blinked, looking up at Dave, who shook his 
head and motioned back to the recording.
	"Thanks for hanging in there, people," Maury said, suddenly 
sounding a bit more enthusiastic.  "I know that it's confusing.  That 
it's tough.  There are a lot of bad feelings right now, but bad 
decisions will only cause more killing and really, no one wants that.  
I'll speak to you again.  Soon.  Prince Maury of Sol, out."
	He ended with a strange little salute, then the screen went 
blank.  
	Hooze' eyes went wide.  "Why is he invoking Horn-dogs?"
	Dave looked frustrated.  "So my hunch is correct.  A hidden 
message?"
	"Uhm..." Hooze shrugged, making the same little salute with her 
hand.  It looked as if she was 'giving the horns' but she used her 
thumb and two middle fingers to create a 'nose' out of her hand.  Jimmy 
tried to emulate it, and succeeded after a moment's practice.  "This is 
a horn-dog," she explained.  "A silly little thing my uncle used to 
show us when we were kids.  We decided, back when Fiss and Mo were just 
getting their powers, that we could use it as a failsafe secret 'trust 
me' if something seemed too incredible to believe."
	Dora nodded, then turned to Dave.  "So, he probably wasn't being 
forced to say those things.  He's probably not hurt, either.  I didn't 
see any scars or bruising."
	"It makes no sense," Dave fumed, turning to the windows 
overlooking downtown Edmonton.  "Why is he saying not to do anything?  
We could grab him and be out of there in ten seconds with a fleet of 
Dolphins riding in to cover our escape.  He decimated their damn fleet!  
Why is he playing nice now?"
	"A change of heart?" Dora shrugged, trying not to show her 
growing ire at Dave's suddenly hostile attitude.  "Or maybe all that 
anger has passed on to you?"
	Hooze watched with a dry scowl, having given up interrupting them 
after a few attempts.  Jimmy wisely got behind Hooze, sensing the 
atmosphere around her becoming dangerously charged.
	"A diversion," Dave sighed, "but why the code?  And nothing more 
than a 'trust me'?  I still want to talk to him.  They could have video 
editing on par with our own or better!"
	"That's WHY he had the code," Dora insisted.  "He doesn't want us 
to come up there and interfere!  How likely is it they knew a strange 
inside joke between him and Hooze?"
	"Strange?" Hooze grumbled.  They ignored her completely.  
	"Telepathy, brain scan, or even access to old mannerisms seen and 
recoded from their intrusion into the Negaverse a thousand years ago."
	"That's completely unrealistic," Dora countered.  "You're just 
looking for an excuse to attack!  That's not like you!"
	"They didn't leave any room for negotiation, and now they'll have 
the leisure to..."
	"Paper," Hooze announced suddenly, bringing up her hand in a wide 
sweeping motion.  
	"Pardon?" Dave and Dora said in unison, turning to her just in 
time to see the pink energy shield fly into them, pinning the pair to 
the window. 
	Jimmy was slack-jawed yet again as Hooze took a step forward, 
admiring for a moment the squished look of her guests, then snapped her 
fingers to dissolve the shield. "WOW!"
	"Not bad, huh?" Hooze smirked at him.  "So, are you going to 
listen to me?  Or do I have to interrupt you too?"
	"NO MA'AM!" the young man said quickly, standing at attention.
	"Ahh, good," Hooze chuckled as Dave and Dora straightened 
themselves.  Dave still wore frustration on his brow, but looked much 
more apologetic.  "So, care to tell me why my best friend is stuck in 
some Negaverse political prison?" she paused for a moment, looking 
around.  "And why is Pain here?  And who is this kid?"  Another pause,  
"Oh, and Hi.  Good to see you, Dave, care for a drink?"
	Dave sat down in the nearest chair and slumped over onto the 
desk.  "I'm sorry, Andrea, I didn't mean to ignore you.  It's good to 
see you too, even if I don't show it."
	Dora's face brightened a bit and she sat down next to him.  "As 
for me, Miss Hooze, I'm Dora.  The Omega Web took me in after the key 
of Pain was destroyed."
	"I'm Jimmy," the young prince announced.  "Retainer to the Throne 
of Sol."
	Hooze nodded and smiled at the boy.  "I bet you've been harassing 
Mo, haven't you?"
	"Harassing?" he looked embarrassed.  "Oh no, ma'am!  I've been 
studying from the Prince!  He's very wise."
	She laughed out loud.  "I'll take your word for it."
	"He's not in danger," Dave said finally as Hooze turned back to 
him.  "As far as we know, anyway.  We were on the cusp of losing the 
entire Solar Platform when Maury went up on what I thought was a 
suicide attack against their emperor."
	Andrea nodded and sat back down across from him.  "Go on," she 
said.
	"We sent you the basics before the final attack," Dave said, 
rubbing his palms into this temples.  "The Negaverse sent, as far as we 
know, all their space-worthy armada to take over our primary power-
source.  Several of their worlds are dying due to something I suspect 
to be natural galactic entropy.  While Earth is situated in an area of 
the galaxy filled with mature, but stable stars, the Negaverse Empire 
is situated in a pocket of older and dying systems."
	"Fascinating," Hooze remarked, trying not to sound too bored.  
"About Maury?"
	"Right," Dave nodded.  "Naturally, we haven't discussed the plans 
with Maury yet, but I think he may have been captured, and is stalling 
them by giving them hope we can beam energy to their dying planets from 
our own healthy star."
	"I think what he said is true," Dora said suddenly.  "Maybe he 
just realized they'd have to work together.  The gesture might be 
genuine."
	Dave sighed and sat back in his seat.  "Ladies and gentlemen, for 
the last fifteen years, we've been seeing a trend in our Point 
Calculator readouts that hinted towards a hostile invading force 
completely wiping out Earth.  I can't let that happen.  Neither, in 
good reason, could the Senshi."
	"Their focus is the Sun, not Earth," Dora insisted. 
	"And we saw how quickly they returned to their old hatred of the 
Senshi once they found out who Maury was," Dave countered. 
	Hooze let out a long sigh.  Both Dora and Dave ducked 
instinctively, but no magic fly-swatter came this time.  "Normally, 
Dave, I'd agree with you.  But we're fighting a war with Ontario and 
our own PR right now, and I don't like the idea of becoming a war-
monger just yet, especially if they have a gang of spaceships.  We've 
just barely acquired a fully functioning air-squadron.  If Maury has 
another way, then we have to let him go with it.  The alternative is me 
going up there, and right now I don't think parliament will fly with 
that idea."
	"And if it's all a trick?" Dave wondered out loud.
	"There's a thousand other ways to trick us," Hooze said with a 
shrug.  "I'm sure that they must know about the other Senshi by 
now...or at least suspect it."
	"They don't," he said, looking up at Hooze, then to the clock on 
the wall.  "But they will in roughly seventy hours."
	"What do you mean?" Hooze asked. 
	"They're sending another probe through the system," Dave said 
with a small sigh.  "It will be within range to scan for life on Earth 
in just under three days.  I'm fairly certain that the ability to scan 
for you Senshi will only be heightened now that they have Maury 
captured."
	Hooze raised an eyebrow.  "Ah."










Chapter 5











	"You told me you were trying to help," Sanis said, watching Maury 
as he stretched and yawned on his seat.  "We've always been taught that 
the Senshi were conquerors."  
	Maury laughed at the idea, but Sanis clearly didn't think it a 
joke. 
	"And just barely repelled at the cost of thousands of lives," 
Sanis continued.   
	"They teach you that Beryl was a fairy princess too?" Maury 
chuckled. 
	Sanis looked confused.  "Records from that era are sometimes 
regarded as exaggerated, but she was generally regarded as a good 
leader.  We still model many of our expansionist policies after her 
rule."
	"Expansionist policies?" Maury asked. 
	Sanis nodded.  "The rate of growth of the Empire.  We try to 
model it after her findings to ensure adequate military coverage, as 
well as food production and the like.  Naturally, we've made revisions 
throughout the centuries as new technologies and races are found.  It's 
still an excellent guide, regardless."
	"I'm not goinna re-write your history books for you," Maury said, 
"but your Queen Beryl tested a lot of those expansionist policies on my 
home.  We were the defenders.  She was the aggressor."
	"I find that difficult to believe," Sanis defended.  "You are 
self-proclaimed prince of this Solar System, are you not?"
	"Born into the role," Maury said.  "Hence the whole 'prince' 
title?  You know?  Mom and dad were King and Queen?"
	Sanis sighed.  
	"Just because I have power doesn't mean I go out and tell people 
how to live.  I got no need or want to be up in someone's life trying 
to control it and I can't imagine doing it to millions and billions of 
people.  How you 'leaders' do it...I could never handle doing it 
twenty-four-seven.  I'm only doing this gig to save lives," Maury said.  
"If it wasn't for some other person and their expansionist policies, I 
could live my life making babies, drinking screech and playing 
Nintendo.  I don't need anything more than that."
	"Then you are a rare person," Sanis said, rubbing his temples 
with his fingers.  "To have that power and want nothing more than what 
life gives you.  I can't imagine that kind of placid existence."
	"It's not so bad.  You don't have to wade through bodies if 
you're just a regular guy," Maury shrugged.  "Can you do anything?  I 
mean, do you have any extraordinary power?"
	Sanis cleared his throat.  "Does this room not indicate something 
to you?" he motioned to the mentally generated walls and wire mesh 
between them.  
	"Yeah, but no combat abilities," Maury grinned. "Come on, Patrick 
Stewart can do this shit on X-Men.  Can you do anything offensive?  
Something that aligns with Beryl's strategies in maintaining a healthy 
bloody empire?"
	"I find my abilities assist me quite well," Sanis said quickly.  
Unless Maury's eyes were playing tricks on him, he could have sworn the 
boy was blushing.  
	"Fair enough," Mo shrugged.  "Either way, you've done pretty good 
for yourself without having any ability to breathe fire or shoot mind-
bullets at yaks from five-hundred yards away.  I'd say you're just as 
rare."
	They were silent for a moment.  
	"What is a Patrick Stewart?" Sanis asked.
	"Coolest bald-guy ever," Maury laughed.  "Oh, yeah, I almost 
forgot, you asked me a question.  We seem to be getting sidetracked a 
lot."
	Realization hit the boy's face, and he cracked the smallest of 
smiles.
	"Anyway, yeah, Jadeite was king or prince or emperor at the time.  
Beryl was dead and her followers were scattered to the wind," Maury 
cleared his throat.  "Someone knocked over a shack of portal crystals 
somewhere on your home planet and a bunch of desperate Negaverse people 
were coming to..." Maury paused. 
	Sanis frowned.  
	"Shit," Maury sighed, realizing he hadn't quite thought about how 
he wanted to present Earth to this boy.  Sanis didn't seem able to 
probe his mind...or wasn't attempting out of some sense of privacy.  He 
wasn't sure.  
	Sanis stood and walked to the metal mesh separating them.  
"You're protecting something.  Someone.  But they are not on Sol," he 
said quietly.  "Please, it is best if we are honest with each other.  
If you truly wish peace and an alliance..."
	"Fine," Maury cleared his throat.  "Earth.  They were coming to 
Earth," he felt an annoying sense of panic as he said those words.
	"Third planet," Sanis nodded.  "Currently frozen?"
	"Was frozen," Maury said.  "That's the reason I'm here as I was a 
thousand years ago."
	"Why were you trying to hide it?" Sanis asked. 
	Maury stood and paced for a moment.  "We're not ready for this," 
he said.  "Sol.  Luna.  All the old kingdoms, it all happened while 
Earth was still just growing.  Even now, it's just a pimply teenager.  
Nothing I'd want to send into a universe with empires and star-ships 
just yet.  We still have people who believe the sun gets eaten by 
dragons during an eclipse, people who think that if the girl's on top 
she can't get pregnant during sex, and even people thinking that 
Britney Spears can actually sing."
	"I'm not following you," the boy admitted, rubbing his forehead.
	"If you show up with your big Armada," Maury said, "then we may 
as well save you the trouble and destroy ourselves.  Chances are that's 
what would happen."
	Sanis nodded.  "We saw no need to investigate the ice.  The 
technology was primitive and life was in stasis."
	"And I was hoping you'd continue to think that," Maury admitted.  
	Sanis looked confused, but nodded.  "Alright then.  But please, 
quickly, I can only hold this connection another few moments..." he 
said, clearly tiring.  "My question." 
	"Jadeite had asked us to come over and help out.  There was a 
civil war brewing between the new guard and the old regime of Beryl," 
Maury said quickly, sitting back down.  "Something about the soil on 
your home planet starting to dry out or something like that.  A lot of 
hungry people.  We showed up and attempted to find a solution, but we 
were recognized, and the old Honour Guards whipped up a rebellion 
around us."
	"This is disturbing," Sanis admitted.  "None of this is in our 
histories."
	"And it's not likely to be there," Maury shrugged.  "We have a 
saying back on Earth, that history is written by the winners.  We had 
to leave before more people died just from us showing up."
	They sat for a moment.  Silent.  
	"I'll research this and return when I have proof either way," 
Sanis promised.  
	"Why," Maury shrugged.  "It's ancient history, right?  You've 
asked about it every few questions since we started talking."
	Sanis nodded, then folded his hands together behind his back.  "I 
should be clear, Prince Sol.  As you have told me a secret, I will do 
the same.  This truce is not well accepted by my people.  They have 
never had a peace without total victory."
	"A little change never hurt anyone," Maury offered with a grin.
	"Maybe," Sanis said, then shook his head.  "But I fear that there 
are those using this peace against us.  Not only myself and my throne, 
but you and your people as well.  Part of what I am trying to do is 
convince my court that executing you is not necessary."
	"Execution?" Maury frowned.  "But you told them I surrendered, 
right?"
	"I did," Sanis nodded.  "And I accepted, which is the problem.  
You would be the first."
	Maury frowned.  "The first what?"
	Sanis shrugged.  "The first leader in almost ten thousand years 
that was not executed upon defeat.  Even by surrender.  It is the one 
term no other Emperor or Empress has ever accepted."
	"I'm rather pleased to have changed the trend," Maury chuckled. 
	Sanis nodded, but looked concerned.  "We will talk again 
tomorrow.  I need to research this new information, and rest so we can 
have more time."
	Maury nodded his head.  "I look forward to it."
	Sanis smiled, all of a sudden looking very much like the boy he 
was.  "Me too."
	The room faded back into the hallway and cell.  











	Emperor Sanis let out a long, steady breath as his mind returned 
to his body.  Sitting across from him were a tall woman and man who 
were very obviously twins, dressed in matching metal and organic 
armour.  They waited patiently, but with their weapons ready as the 
tiny Emperor composed himself.
	"Your Excellency?" the woman asked quietly.  
	"I'm fine, Sapna," he said, taking a sheet of dull orange paper 
and folding it six times to form a peculiar shape that could have been 
a bird or a lizard.  
	The pair of honour guards relaxed as they examined the paper.  It 
had been decided that, after every encounter with the Senshi, the 
Emperor would prove his mind was intact by performing a non-verbal 
test.  
	"You put yourself at great risks, Emperor," the man said, 
sheathing his sword and holstering a pistol-like weapon that stopped 
humming after it was safely put away.  "How many more times must you 
subject yourself to this danger?"
	"It is alright, Yen," Sanis said, standing from behind his ornate 
wooden desk and walking over to the observation windows that surrounded 
them in a half-circle.  "I do not fear Prince Sol.  He could finish us 
at any time, but he has chosen peace and I will honour that by giving 
him peace in his time of vulnerability."
	Sensing their presence was no longer desired, Yen and Sapna bowed 
and walked off into the room's shadows, leaving the young Emperor with 
a pretence of being alone.  It was a nice gesture, even though Sanis 
knew he was always being observed.  
	He gazed out of the windows over what remained of his fleet.  So 
few ships were left.  So many lost had been lost to their own suicide 
missions, but after Maury had attacked they had lost more of their 
cruisers and carriers.  Two carriers besides his own ship remained.  
One had a large hole in its side, but repairs were underway.  Smaller 
ships limped around, commanded to conserve power on their patrols.  
Hardly any were left unscarred from the battles, however.  Instead of 
the shiny black and green, everything looked tired and charred.  Burnt.  
Dented.  
	The Solar Platform hadn't fared any better.  Smoke still tinted 
the long comet-like tail of the atmosphere a ruddy brown higher up.  
The battle had been hard on both sides.  
	It amused Sanis that much of the loss could have been prevented 
by simply declaring their intentions to the people of Sol.  How easily 
it seemed to have peace, even after the hatred of war had been sewn 
into the encounter.  But what glory and victory could be had in asking 
nicely?  Sanis repeatedly questioned the calculated odds when they 
favoured a surprise assault over all other methods.  The computer 
technicians were paid by the civilian offices, after all.  The Military 
was simply there to carry those calculations out.
	As if to punctuate the thought, a small chime filled the air, 
indicating there were guests to see him.  Emperor Sanis smoothed out 
his plain, grey clothes and ran a casual hand through his short gray 
hair.  He made sure to frame himself in the centre of the window, as if 
he was gazing out over the entire Universe as his own.  
	"You may enter," he announced, activating the door.  
	Three men entered through the throne room doors.  Though they 
were not escorted, each one was silently scanned for explosives, magic 
and mundane weapons long before they made it past the hidden stations 
of Yen and Sapna, who would have sprung out to destroy any of them who 
came to threaten their Emperor.  
	Unnecessary in this case.  These men were not adept with swords 
and bombs, and instead fought with word and politick.  The only one of 
the three who had used weapons in the past was long since retired, 
though Sanis suspected he still pined for the glory days of old.
	"You called for us, Emperor?" the man known as Waddin asked 
graciously.  He had broad, rounded shoulders and a tiny, perpetually 
squinting face.  Thin lips, and wild, bushy blonde eyebrows under a 
crop of long, straight hair.  Waddin had the practiced air of civil 
servitude about him, and Sanis suspected an honest quality to his 
actions, despite his many quiet overtures against the throne.
	How such a group of dissimilar people became allies, Sanis could 
only attribute to their mutual dislike of his father, and now himself.  
"Waddin, Dolesbur, Yean," Sanis said, turning to them with a practiced 
smile.  "It is good to see you all.  Please, sit down."
	Dolesbur let Waddin do the bulk of the speaking, as it usually 
got him further than the eventual red-hot temper yelling matches he 
produced with the young ruler.  He came from the life of an old war 
general who had fought under, and then against, the late Emperor.  
While Dolesbur was honourably discharged from service to ease tensions 
in the military, the man continued to voice his opinions against the 
Empire from the courthouses.  Twenty years of this earned him enough 
friends wanting to push their own agendas to catapult him into the 
position of Vizier, and commander of the armada during royally 
supervised missions.  Balding white hair crowned his chubby square 
head, and he still wore his old military command stripes, badly 
disguised as designs on his tunic.  
	Yean also preferred to let Waddin voice their combined attacks, 
but in his case, it was due to the fact he had only just learned 
Negaverse Common.  It was a difficult tongue for his people, the 
Bansicche, to learn with any skill - due to the fact that his people 
didn't have any tongues.  The Bansicche had long, tubular heads that 
began with a flexible circular jaw in the front and two breathing tusks 
in the back that created a gentle whistle as his neck expanded and 
contracted every minute or so.  Most of Yean's yellow-spotted charcoal 
grey skin was hidden under long, red robes, but they could not hide the 
fact he had three long, bony arms evenly spaced along his torso.  One 
arm swayed gently at his front, absentmindedly smoothing out his robes 
while his three short legs moved him forward.  
	The Bansicche had just won the status of a Citizen Race in the 
Negaverse due to their keen minds and wicked political wits.  
Originally conquered for their technology and slave labour, they were 
physically too weak to be in any stressful environment.  As they became 
renowned for their attention to detail as legal aides and the like, 
their worth grew to the public as citizens. 
	Yean in particular had developed, over his long two centuries 
alive, a strong dislike for the Empire.  Not out of revenge for being 
conquered, but because of the inefficiencies and waste he and many of 
his race saw in the processes the Negaverse ruled with.  Yean did not 
sit, but he lowered himself on his legs to a 'seated' hunch, and gave a 
gentle whistling greeting to the Emperor.
	"I would like your assistance on the matter of the Senshi's 
surrender," Sanis said quietly, looking them each straight in the eyes 
– In Yean's case, a set of six black spots on his skull, set against 
the yellow/grey spots of his skin.  
	"We were hoping to have the matter concluded by now, Emperor," 
Dolesbur said angrily.  "Why are you stalling?"
	"Because it is important we understand," Sanis said, perfectly 
calm.  "It is clear we cannot subjugate these people without losing the 
power we need to survive, and I believe that we may have made a severe 
mistake in attacking those who could have been old allies."
	Yean's expression was as unreadable as always, but both Dolesbur 
and Waddin looked suddenly confused at the statement. 
	"I need your assistance to ensure the accuracy of new 
information," Sanis explained, turning to Yean.  "Would you be able to 
ask your team?"
	Yean turned to Waddin, who then cleared his throat.  "What is the 
nature of this information?"
	"Historical," Sanis shrugged.  "It seems that some of the people 
of Sol may have been trying to assist us in the past.  I would like to 
make sure before I act upon such generosity, naturally.  This may be a 
trick to try and confuse us as they regroup for attack."
	He had been careful to phrase the request to appeal to all three 
of their wants.  It was the only way to buy Maury more time. 
	"Sounds reasonable," Waddin said with a shrug.  "How much time 
are we going to be requesting to do this?"
	Yean leaned forward and the long breathing holes in his head 
fluctuated.  "What era of History?" he said in a strange, windy 
whisper. 
	"Beryl.  Late Beryl, early Jadeite I suspect," Sanis said, 
leaning forward.  "Accuracy is key, even if it goes into the face of 
public opinion of our late great Queens."
	"Difficult," Yean whispered back.  "Topic?"
	"Focus on political unrest or rebellions, and anything else 
strange."
	Yean gently nodded his head.  "Two days for a report," he 
whispered.  "Five for details."
	"I need details," Sanis said. 
	"Five days."
	"I trust that will not delay our timeline significantly?" Sanis 
offered to the other men. 
	"We are completely dependent on these people, sire," Waddin said 
with a shrug.  "For once, the delays caused by our monarchy can be 
forgiven."
	Sanis nodded crisply.  "And any update from our scientists?"
	Dolesbur leaned forward.  "We may not be able to establish a 
direct link, but these Sol people say their sun will provide at least 
another one billion years of sustained power.  Our scans indicate it 
would be closer to three billion.  The battery-tanker solution may be 
best."
	"That's good news," Sanis nodded.  "And our own star-collectors?"
	"Too fragile," Yean whispered.
	"I agree," Dolesbur said.  "And it seems that the platform they 
use is using a lot of forgotten technology.  It may be years before we 
could understand enough to take it over by force and operate it 
ourselves."
	Sanis nodded.  "Then this truce is a blessing in disguise," he 
said quietly.  "I will be interrogating the Senshi to learn more, but 
for now, I need you to spread the word that he is more valuable alive 
than dead.  I won't have another revolt for such a silly reason."
	"So long as progress is being made," Waddin said with a carefully 
measured smile.  "I'm sure the public can be patient."
	"To a point," Dolesbur warned.  
	"Yean, Waddin, thank you," Sanis said, turning to Dolesbur.  "I'd 
like to speak to our military advisor for a moment alone."
	The two left after bowing.  Dolesbur would likely tell them 
everything after their meeting anyway.  Sanis knew that.  He needed to 
be careful.
	"Fleet status?" Sanis asked.
	"Thirty percent," Dolesbur frowned.  "And before you ask, I don't 
think the commanders will wait as long to see that bloody Senshi 
executed.  I have no idea why you're coddling him like this."
	"You said yourself, Dolesbur," Sanis shrugged.  "We can't operate 
the technology without him."
	"Without THEM," Dolesbur hissed, pointing out the massive windows 
to the star they orbited.  "The Senshi is a murdering beast, but THEY 
are easily enough controlled."
	Sanis frowned, crossing his hands on the desk in front of him.  
"Exactly how do you justify calling the loss of seventy percent of our 
fleet 'Easily Enough'?" 
	Dolesbur looked suddenly embarrassed. 
	"If we don't have their cooperation, we'll end up losing all the 
worlds on the outer rim," Sanis continued.  "Ten worlds already on the 
brink of starvation and war.  You're worried about one Senshi when 
nearly thirty billion lives are at stake?"
	"The people are, Emperor.  Your commanders are.  We have an enemy 
of legend in our midst who is being kept alive after destroying half 
our fleet by his bare hands!"
	Sanis frowned.  "Then it is your job to educate the commanders 
that every soldier is expected to die for their Empire.  If the Empire 
needs a hated, but surrendered enemy alive, then the Empire dictates 
his life."
	"You mean," Dolesbur smirked, "YOU dictate his life."
	"I do," Sanis said plainly.  "But I still answer to this Empire.  
More than any commander."
	Dolesbur raised a fuzzy white eyebrow and let out a loud 'humph.'  
"If there wasn't so much blood on your hands, I'd say you were showing 
this Senshi compassion."
	"I'm no more pleased at his destruction than you are," Sanis said 
quickly.  "I knew every officer on those ships personally.  If you 
recall, I hand picked most of them to be on this mission."
	Dolesbur leaned forward in his seat.  "If I recall, you were the 
only voice against us coming here in the first place.  Maybe this is 
your idea of getting back at us after the fact?"
	"Us?"  Sanis gave Dolesbur a long, cold look that probably 
pleased the man more than it could intimidate him.  "You speak of me as 
if I am your enemy.  If you doubt my convictions to this Empire, then I 
should redouble our focus."
	"I would be most surprised if you did," Dolesbur smirked. 
	"I understand you are re-scanning the system?"
	"At your command, my l..."
	"Recall all probes," Sanis ordered.  "I want a full sweep done of 
the planet known as Mercury.  If we are to rely on the battery tankers, 
we should begin dock and delivery facility construction immediately."
	The old military commander nodded.  "I was about to suggest that 
myself, my Emperor."
	"Furthermore," Sanis continued, "I want a delegation from the Sol 
Platform brought here, including some of the guards we've sent down."
	"Why?" Dolesbur blinked.
	Sanis smirked at him.  "Despite my previous beliefs on this 
invasion, we are committed to it now, and I would like very much to 
surprise you by doing what is right."
	Dolesbur regarded the tiny boy for a moment, trying to decide his 
motives but unable to read any more than snapping defiance to his own 
wishes.  "I'll make the arrangements," Dolesbur said.
	"Dismissed," Sanis said.
	After a moment, Dolesbur lifted himself up and headed for the 
door.  "You're hiding something," he said, turning just before the 
hall.
	"Aren't we all?" Sanis smiled briefly, then made himself look 
busy with the papers on his desk until the old commander left the room.











Chapter 6











	An emergency meeting had been called in Edmonton, so Miharu, 
Yamato and Matsumoto were away for the day, making the heavy combat 
training off limits until they came back.  With not much else to do, 
Jimmy suggested that they go to the CCMA and visit his friend Karen.  
Ian and Danielle had offered to join him, but the rest of the 
Missionaries were looking forward to the day off.  Ian wanted to visit 
as well, and Barlow was still nursing his phantom gunshot wounds, so he 
offered to guard the fort.
	Thomas found himself spending most of the day with Beast.  He had 
never had a dog while growing up, and was starting to learn the joys of 
playing fetch with Evidence.  They headed down to the river that 
bisected Red Deer, with the dog leading the way one stick-throw at a 
time.  
	"You're curious about me," Beast said simply as Thomas threw a 
tree branch for Evidence to run after.  
	Thomas looked up at him.  "It doesn't help that you know that," 
he said with a laugh.
	"I apologize," Beast smiled back as they walked through the 
forest.  
	"You do that a lot," Thomas sighed, then stopped himself as he 
caught himself being too whiney.  "I mean, it's just that you seem to 
know exactly what to say to people."
	Beast looked pleased at the wording and nodded.  "It is nothing 
special," he explained.  "I have always been able to read people.  Even 
without this so-called magic, I find there are hints that most people 
miss."
	Evidence came running back to the pair with a stick in his mouth.  
Beast smiled and took the stick from the dog, then gave it an 
impressive, hefty throw that sent it onto the water.  Only moments 
later, the Rottweiler was splashing through the river to get his new 
toy.  
	"Two years ago," Beast said, "I met a pair of con-artists who 
swindled me out of a meal.  Nothing much to it all, and in fact I was 
more interested in how they both seemed to know exactly what to say and 
what I was thinking than actually being angry at the loss of a few 
dollars."
	"They could read minds?" Thomas asked.
	"Maybe," Beast said.  "Close enough, if not actually being able 
to read thoughts.  I spent the next year as their assistant of sorts.  
Not quite an apprentice in my own mind, I suppose, but whenever they 
introduced me around the groups of mages they labelled me as one."
	"How come I never saw any or heard of any on the news?" Thomas 
asked.
	"Just like those without, people with power must make decisions 
about how they will fit into the world," Beast said simply.  "Rise, co-
exist or be trodden upon.  Rising is difficult in this day and age 
despite having power, and attracts undue attention to magic.  To be 
trodden upon, in this case, is what most of them feared would happen.  
That we would all become a controlled group, or worse, secretly culled 
or experimented upon.  To co-exist quietly was the natural choice for 
those whose egos could withstand it."
	Evidence came running back to them, soaking wet and wagging his 
tiny stump-tail.  An even larger log was now in his jaws.  Beast 
quickly took the log and threw it back towards the river so Evidence 
wouldn't have time to shake his coat and spray them both with water. 
	"But you weren't a mage, were you?" Thomas asked.
	"I can't really be sure," Beast said with a shrug.  "I found 
that, by watching them, I could begin to predict what people would say.  
They would tell me tips and tricks to assist with learning a person's 
mindset.  For them, using their magic was extremely taxing on their 
bodies.  Maybe only once or twice per day could they tell me what was 
on my mind to the letter.  One of them could tell me what food my 
stomach was about to start craving before it happened, but it was only 
on the laziest, most relaxing days that this could be done.  Still, 
that power was enough of an edge for their cons to be successful more 
times than not.
	"They confided to me what it felt like when they used this magic.  
Many metaphors.  Many images.  But the one that eventually found its 
way into my mind in the correct form happened a few days after I 
started to grow a beard in my neglect of my personal interests.
	"I was about to shave it off when they jumped up and slapped the 
razor from out of my hand.  They both looked terrified, and excited at 
the same time.  It was the most miraculous look in their eyes...as if 
they had both shared some epiphany about my face."
	"They obviously liked the beard," Thomas chuckled.  "It suits 
you."
	Beast grinned, then scratched the wild growth around his jaw 
absentmindedly.  "Back to the metaphor.  Teaching someone magic is very 
difficult because they must possess a certain level of talent, and 
then, they must become inspired to use it.  While I hear the former 
isn't so rare anymore, the latter is the true key to the abilities 
locked away within one's mind.  
	"While my conmen mentors were inspired due to their natural draw 
to determine a mark's desires and weaknesses, I would not be so easy as 
I never did have the inclination to learn what others thought of me or 
anything in particular.  Also, it's hard to determine what kind of 
abilities one has until they manifest, and branches, changes and 
dualism are already common ideas in the magic community.  One young 
lady I met during my time in Vancouver could light a fire with her 
mind, and then swallow it up with the earth, but could no more control 
water or air than you or I.
	"For me, they had long since sensed I was like them, and when my 
beard became noticeable, they finally found the right ideas to teach 
me," Beast said, pausing to heave another stick towards Evidence, who 
had just gotten up on the shore.  The playful dog dropped the log in 
his mouth and ran after the new stick with a puppy-like vigour.  "They 
told me that thoughts were like a beard," he said simply.  "At first, 
if one listens, they can only hear the jumble of thousands of voices 
and ideas and feelings.  Apparently, the reason this particular type of 
magic is so rare is because it overwhelms new practitioners before they 
can control it, and only those who have a strong mind, or strong 
barriers in their psyche can learn to use it."
	"So you can tell if someone else has magic?" Thomas asked.
	"I cannot," Beast shrugged, "but if they are aware, then I can 
tell.  I'm afraid I can neither confirm nor deny your magical ability."
	Thomas shrugged, though he felt slightly dejected.  "Sorry, I 
didn't mean to interrupt," he said.
	"It is no trouble," Beast smiled.  "I understand you have many 
questions and very few answers.  I'll try to help when I can."
	"Please," Tom said, inviting him to continue.
	"So," Beast cleared his throat, "they said that to focus on one 
thought, one had to imagine a gray hair in the middle of a wild, bushy 
beard.  That when you could pick out that one hair in your mind and 
follow it all the way from root to end, you can filter out all the 
other noises and thoughts and ideas rushing around you in a useless 
jumble."
	"And did it work?" Thomas asked.  "I mean, like right away?"
	"No, and I believe all three of us were disappointed," Beast 
said, then scratched his chin.  "However, I took their metaphor to a 
literal level and began watching for gray hairs as they grew.  One in 
particular when I found I had many.  I focused on it every day, and 
every day, when people would walk by me I could hear a little more and 
a little clearer.  It was like someone was turning up the volume on a 
particularly quiet radio from across a crowded room, and slowly I was 
training myself to hear it."
	"Very cool," Thomas said.
	"Very early on," Beast continued, "we noticed that I wasn't 
getting as tired as my mentors did when I practiced.  This amazed them, 
but began to frighten a lot of the others we were around.  They began 
to throw around words like 'prodigy' and 'genius' and eventually words 
like 'prophet' were used."
	"Prophet?"
	"It hadn't helped that I had come out of nowhere, could now read 
minds, and was growing a beard," Beast said with a small smirk.  "I 
looked like an overweight Jesus Christ."
	"Oh, God..." Thomas laughed. 
	"No, most certainly not," Beast smiled, "and I tried to tell 
them.  The only thing I got was the word 'humble' on my name for my 
efforts.  Still, for all the fuss, it was all benign and in good taste.  
Nobody asked me to turn water into wine or to fight any evil spirits, 
so I ignored it, assuming as more and more magic users showed up, my 
powers wouldn't be viewed as such an oddity."
	"So what happened?"
	"Attention," Beast said.  "I attracted too much attention.  My 
mentors were into a life of crime and excitement, so I was not really 
surprised when they decided to leave Vancouver and myself behind.  I 
wished them well, they to me, and they were off.  I was left with a 
community that I was comfortable enough living with, but again, 
attention began to collect.  Eventually, a few people from various 
organizations came calling."
	"Which organizations?" Thomas asked, taking the stick from 
Evidence as the dog sat patiently for a lull in the conversation.  He 
tossed it high and into the bushes, ensuring the dog would have a good 
hunt for it.  
	"A few people from the city.  Wanted to re-zone the area or ask 
us to move.  Not really anything official, just responding to rumours 
and complaints by 'concerned citizens' in the neighbourhood.  We asked 
the people to come back with official documentation, and they realized 
nothing immediate would happen," Beast said, his smile fading as he 
spoke.  "The next organization - if you jest to call a mob organized - 
killed twelve people.  Most of them children in a fire that was set."
	Thomas remembered hearing about a house fire a couple of years 
back.  The news mentioned that magic had been involved.  At the time, 
he was ignorant to the new world growing around him and had quite 
heartedly approved of the deaths.  
	"Yes," Beast cleared his throat, reading his mind.  "And the 
police had the same general thought as well.  Only one arrest was made, 
and it was for public intoxication.  Manslaughter wasn't even brought 
up."
	"I'm sorry," Thomas said, turning white as he remembered his 
attitude at the time.
	"It's okay," Beast smiled easily, putting a hand on Thomas' 
shoulder.  "The world is wiser now.  A lot of people who cheered that 
fire on are now repentant of it.  I know.  I visited many.  I wanted to 
see some hope for our kind.  While I'm still unsure if we will end up 
this era's Japanese concentration camp victims, at least some people 
realized their error.  Another reason I decided to take Miharu's 
invitation, and why I am still here after learning I will likely have 
to carry a weapon."
	As Evidence came jumping and crashing through the bushes with a 
new, larger stump in his mouth, they heard someone else shouting 
through the trees behind them.  Thomas picked out a man with a bandanna 
on his head.  "Is that Barlow?" 
	"Yes," Beast nodded with a curious look on his face.  "And he has 
news."
	Barlow looked excited, but was out of breath and frantically 
waving a newspaper in his hand as he ran.  "GUYS!  TOM!  BEAST!"	They 
cleared a path as he nearly bowled them over.  He then groaned and 
leaned against a tree, handing Thomas the newspaper he had been 
carrying.  
	Thomas looked at the headline, then up at Barlow with a confused 
look.  "Oil prices to peak at eighty dollars a barrel this month?"
	"No," Barlow wheezed, "Jackass...go...go to page...five."
	Page five held a number of small local articles around the 
province.  Thomas was about to ask what was so interesting when he 
caught mention of a strange death under investigation.  "Doctor found 
dead in hospital.  Possible new virus?"
	Barlow nodded.  "Keep reading."
	"Doctor was found dead..." Thomas read, skimming over the 
unnecessary details, "...nurses report missing...police looking for 
homeless suspect...neck was destroyed from the inside out?"
	"Yes!" Barlow cackled.  "It's our guy!  It's that motherfucker 
who caught us in Calgary.  They don't any leads because he swiped all 
the records on the way out and he was admitted under a John Doe name."
	"But the wound is like what he did to his friends that night," 
Thomas agreed.  "So he's still in Calgary?"
	"Yes, so we need to get down there and see what we can find," 
Barlow pressed, handing the paper to Beast who read it over briefly.  
"Maybe we can question one of the nurses who saw him...hell, Beast here 
can do some mind-tricks maybe and see what else they know."
	Tom looked to Beast, who nodded reluctantly.  "I suppose if it 
would help get dangerous man captured, I could be a bit more 
intrusive," he said.
	"Okay," Thomas nodded.  "Ian and the others?"
	"Out with their family.  Have their PDAs on standby.  I can't 
reach them," Barlow grinned.  "We could handle it, though.  We've got 
our swords now.  We've been training like mad for this."
	Thomas rubbed his knee, remembering the uncomfortable pain from 
the last encounter with their target.  "We have access to a car, 
right?"
	"Hell yes!" Barlow cackled.  "Won't take a second to fill out the 
paperwork.  I'll meet you by the dorms in an hour.  We'll be in Calgary 
before two if you let me drive."
	"But, you're blind," Thomas said frankly.
	"Never stopped me before," Barlow grinned.  He then ran off back 
through the woods towards the compound.  Thomas smiled at Beast, who 
laughed as Evidence ran off to follow Barlow.
	"At least they're excited," Beast offered as they began to 
follow.  
	"Aren't you?" Thomas chuckled.
	"No, I'm not," Beast said calmly.  "I do, however, currently 
sport a fine level of nervousness."
	"Me too," Thomas admitted with a smile.  "About the mage or 
having Barlow drive?"
	"I haven't decided which is more terrifying just yet."
	"Me neither."










Chapter 7











	A lazy morning dawned on the camp, with most of the main tent 
waking up when they sensed the sunrise approaching.  Feeling rested, 
but groggy, Fiss didn't notice that Battra was already awake and 
working on the next jump spell on the beach until he had jumped in for 
an early morning swim.
	"You're up early," Battra said as Fiss swam over to him.  The old 
mage used a long stick to craft Theban into the sand.
	"I thought you said you wouldn't be able to do that again?" Fiss 
said, treading water in his 'bathing suit' that the wings on his back 
had formed.  
	Battra looked over to him.  "Your words at supper seem to have 
renewed my energy, Lord Fiss."
	"Good to hear," Fiss said stoically, then turned around to swim 
away, making faces as he echoed the old man's comment to himself.
	"I may," Battra said, tone shifting to something almost 
hospitable, "require your assistance to hold the spell if there are 
delays.  I trust this will not inconvenience you?"
	Fiss didn't turn around, but nodded.  "I'd be happy to help," he 
said, then noticed the Archangels gathering at the treetops.  "Would 
you care to join me?"
	Battra looked up at the other angels fluttering to the trees for 
the sunrise.  "At my age, it does not sing as sweetly as it once did," 
he said with a small look of regret.  "I'll finish up here soon.  Thank 
you, though."
	Christopher nodded, and swam back over to the edge of the lake.  
Refreshed and feeling quite good about Battra's mood finally breaking, 
he took his cleaning up and getting dressed in the bushes.  
	A few of the farmers who were used to waking up so early began to 
stir and pack.  With commotion beginning to take the camp, it wasn't 
long until most people were awake and taking their last baths in the 
river, then returning to their tents or carts to begin packing.  Chris 
watched from the sideline, munching on a granola bar he had earlier 
packed away in Penguinspace.  It was such a peaceful scene, he didn't 
bother to fly up to the trees to watch the sunrise with the others.  
	On his last bite of breakfast, he heard something behind him.  A 
rustle of something in the bushes.  The sound of a sword being drawn 
from a leather sheath.  Fiss pretended not to notice, munching loudly 
on his granola.  The sword being held was nervous.  It clattered as a 
shaky hand raised it up strike him down.  He was just about to 
counterattack when he caught something out of the corner of his eye.  
	He had never seen so many dominions.  And their colour...nearly 
sky blue.  All fifty or sixty of them.  Even as they flew over the 
camp, nobody noticed them due to their colour against the pristine blue 
sky.  Flying into the sun, no shadows were cast.  
	"Shit," Chris said out loud, stepping backwards to stop the sword 
blow aimed for him.  A startled man's hands came down on Fiss' 
shoulder, swinging too wide for the blade to be pulled back in time.  
Fiss turned at the startled man, grabbing his wrist and forcing him 
into an arm lock, dropping the sword in a process.  He was just about 
to demand some answers, when he looked up to see the three dozen other 
men and women carrying swords looking back at him with equal surprise.  
	"Shit," Fiss said again, kicking the man to the ground, then 
taking to the air before the group could swarm him.  "ATTACK!  WE'RE 
UNDER ATTACK!" he shouted, flying towards the flock of dragons as 
quickly as he could.  His sword came out a moment before he reached 
them, and the sky seemed to rip open and bleed as the blade found one 
of their hides.
	Screams erupted from the crowd as dozens of armed men and women 
launched themselves out of the trees, attacking anyone in their paths.  
Fiss groaned as he realized the brilliant timing of the attack, while 
most of the Archangels were blissing out on the sunbeams and too 
distracted to notice.  Gunshots began firing beneath as Nathan 
apparently joined the battle, and Fiss caught a glimpse of several 
attackers dropping in surprise.  
	The dominions began to fight back.  Even on the ground, they were 
quick and agile.  Fiss knew this, and despite his easy victories when 
dealing with them or their riders, he was not so foolish as to 
underestimate them.  When a slightly-more-than-lucky bite grabbed his 
left wing and nearly tore it free from his back, Fiss couldn't believe 
the speed of their attacks.  He twisted around painfully, de-jawing the 
head of the one latched onto his wings, only to be battered by a tail 
whipping past him.  
	Blue, shimmering scales flashed around him in the harsh sunrise, 
and Fiss felt himself getting dizzy from the effect.  All the while, he 
saw at least half of the dragon-like beasts continuing on to attack the 
angels still in the tree-tops, who were just finally now coming to 
realize something bad was happening behind them.  "Dammit...FISS!" he 
shouted, blasting him out from the middle of the dragons with a pulse 
from his sword.  The resulting shockwave knocked one of the blue 
dominions into another, and they fell screeching from the sky a tangle 
of limbs, wings and claws.  "At least they're not as tough as the 
others," Fiss said dryly as he watched them fall.  
	As if to rebuke that point, three more lunged at him with the 
frightening speed that had caught him off guard earlier.  His sword was 
ready, but even then, they came close enough to splatter him with guts 
as the bright blue flash split them down their bodies.  
	War horns were now sounding, and the group of Archangels came 
free of their revelries, flying into action against the incoming tide 
of dragon meat.  On the ground, the battle looked much more optimistic.  
Farmers began fighting back with tools and those trained to handle a 
sword were easily as good as their foes.  Each of the attacking 
fighters wore a simple sash of black and white, with script denoting 
them 'Honoured Volunteers' by Eden's Will.  
	The clash with the dragons was brutal.  As Fiss slashed his way 
back and forth, slowly whittling down the ten or so left around him, he 
caught glimpses of angels caught in jaws, ripped feathers, and blood 
staining just as many of the House of Fiss as the dominions.  Catching 
an opening, Fiss' sword slashed out a wide arch of power that shot 
through two of his foes, and slammed through the bodies of another pair 
of dragons across the lake.  
	A shot rang out by his head, splattering a clawed paw that would 
have found his shoulder.  Fiss looked down and saluted Nathan, who 
nodded back, reloading his pistols quickly as a group of ten farmers 
covered his pause.  Somewhere in the mess of the battle and people 
rushing to get packed and ready, he saw Jesminder and her cameraman 
filming the whole thing and getting people to move towards Battra, who 
was finishing his spell.  Still, everyone was scattered around the lake 
and on both sides of the river, and while individuals could escape to 
the water, all the House's supplies were on giant carts that wouldn't 
fare so well.  
	Down to the last dominion attacking him, Fiss' sword cleaved 
through its bottom jaw, removing its deadliest weapon.  It thrashed at 
him with its wings and tail as he tried to swing around onto its back.  
Finally he had to slide his katana into the beast's neck to stop it 
from whipping around madly.  Without anything else free to make script, 
he reached into his coat, pulled out the Sharpie marker he had used 
earlier and pulled the cap off with his teeth.  He was suddenly very, 
very glad he brought a dozen of them instead of another spare Jolt.
	"This is what you get," Fiss growled at the dominion as it 
flailed its wings uselessly trying to bat him off its neck, "when you 
are a bad dragon!  BAD DRAGON!"
	He finished writing the spell on the dragon's back, then lifted 
himself up on his wings, kicking off on the symbol with his foot as he 
pulled his sword free.  His touch activated the Theban, freezing the 
dragon solid and causing it to plummet into the lake.  
	The dragon's carcass splashed down and began to spread the 
freezing effect, creating a thundering cracking sound as it did.  
Shouts from the attackers began to fill the air as they tried to cut 
the people off from running onto the ice, but there were too few of 
them, and too many of the House of Fiss for them to corner at this 
point.  Fiss dropped down to the ground and began slashing through a 
barricade of 'Honoured Volunteers' who were trying to corner a few 
dozen people.  
	A flash of light signified that Battra had completed his spell, 
and a great cheer rose up as people in the middle of the crowd began to 
disappear into the gate.  
	Pitchfork and sword were holding the rest of the attackers at bay 
for now, so Fiss launched himself into the air once more, ignoring the 
pain in his wing so he could help the Archangels finish off the final 
few dominions.  
	A quick glance showed him a dozen dead angels on the ground, but 
the rest were fighting strongly.  He hadn't even reached them when he 
heard his name being shouted.  
	"CHRIS!  CHERUBS!" Nathan shouted over the crowd's screams and 
cheers.  "ON YOUR FIVE!"
	Chris was rusty when it came to military lingo, but he spotted 
the cherubs soon enough.  Four of the monstrous flying war-horse 
things, descending into the far end of the crowd.  As they touched 
down, a horrible scream filled the air.  Fiss wasn't sure if the sound 
came from the people dropping around them dead, or the beasts 
themselves.  
	Three of the other angels swarmed around him, looking terrified 
as they noticed the Cherubs.  "Uriel has turned on us!?" one whispered.  
"Why?"
	Fiss turned to the angel and shook his head.  "I don't think so.  
These ones are freelance."
	The four of them flew over the crowd as quickly as they could, 
watching the path of destruction come ever closer.  Fiss turned to see 
where they were heading, and was not entirely surprised to see Tambre 
helping push a cart over the last bit of the melting lake ice.  "Get 
everyone across," Fiss said to one of the Archangels.  "They want her 
for some reason.  Make sure she gets through safely."
	With a nod, one of the angels veered off and flew back to the 
escaping masses to help.  Fiss and the other two rose sharply in the 
air and prepared an attack.  
	"Any of you know any tricks to fighting these things?" Fiss asked 
hopefully.
	"Sorry, Lord Fiss," the one on his right said sadly. 
	"You try lightning, Famiel," the other said.  "I'll try and hold 
them.  We'll need some time," he turned to Fiss.  "Keep them on the 
ground."
	"Shouldn't be too hard," Fiss said with a smirk, then dove at the 
Aszap Cherubs with his sword outstretched as the two other angels began 
drawing script in mid-air.  
	He slashed out at the beasts, catching one off guard, but 
scattering the others into the crowd.  The one he did hit seemed far 
too alive as he landed, even with it cut in half from rump to shoulder.  
He finished it off by slipping his sword through its neck on the 
landing.
	The other three were on him in an instant.  It was only the 
resulting jumble of claws that gave him time to duck under their 
strikes.  Realizing their error as Chris took off two legs of their 
friend, the remaining whole two jumped back into the crowd.  One landed 
on a passing cart, crushing it and two men pushing it by.  The other 
backed up and readied itself to spring if its wounded friend was 
finished.  
	Even with limbs removed, the Aszap stood with unnatural 
perfection, spreading its wings for balance and blocking Fiss' view of 
the others behind it.  The blank, white disk of its face shone 
brightly, making Fiss wish he was wearing his sunglasses for the fight.  
The only sound it made was the strange, unearthly laugh in his mind, 
though it was clear by the frightened reactions of those around him 
that they could hear it too.  
	There was a different style to their movements than before.  Not 
as disturbing or impulsive, but he didn't have much time to reflect on 
why that was.  He swung his sword and the cherub parried with one claw, 
testing its range without its ability to rush forward on all four legs.  
Crystal white blood poured from the stumps of its left side with no 
sign of slowing.  Fiss wondered briefly if these things could bleed to 
death, but he suspected that magic would sustain them regardless.  
	Another strike and parry.  The katana peeled through a claw and 
severed it from the cherub's hand, but Fiss had to retreat as the other 
hand lashed out unchecked and found his feathers.  
	His wings were already complaining from the dominion attack, so 
he figured he may as well use them to end the fight quickly.  Pulling 
the feathers around him like a shell, he cannonballed at the beast, 
sword raised above his head.  Claws hit and sunk in his wings deeply, 
and he realized he had grossly miscalculated when he felt them puncture 
through his left wing.  It was only sheer luck that stopped the deadly 
claws on his armoured vest instead of inside his lung.  With the 
cherub's claws locked in his wings, he parted them and swung his sword 
down hard at the thing's face.  It split in two down to its chest and 
went limp.  
	Chris caught its body and used it to hide behind the feathers for 
additional time as his wings ached.  A glance skyward showed the others 
were done their spells.  
	A razor thin flash of light leapt up from behind the dead cherub 
in Fiss' arms, and he was once more wishing he had put on his 
sunglasses.  Behind the mass of feathers, however, he heard an angry 
scream that indicated it at least found its target.  Then, more frantic 
screaming as something lit on fire.  Fiss finally dared to peer around 
his cover and saw one of the remaining two cherubs trying to run for 
the lake to douse the fire on its back and wings, but the ground had 
moved up to swallow its legs partially like glue.  
	"Nice!  Do it again!" Chris said to the angels above him.  
	They quickly started on their next set of spells, but the last 
unscathed Aszap Cherub obviously did not want to share in its 
companion's fate.  
	It lunged at the crowd of people rushing around it and easily 
caught three bodies on its sickle-like claws.  An older woman and two 
boys that had been helping her run past.  It lifted the people up onto 
their backs and held them there in the vice-like grip of its wings.  
Chris felt his hatred of the Aszap rise as he saw the crying human 
shield, and the Cherub's little mental giggle.  
	"Lord Fiss?" Famiel, the one who had used lightning before 
shouted.  "Orders?"
	"Get its feet," Chris shouted back.  "No lightning.  I got this 
one."
	They nodded and both began working feverishly on the quicksand-
spell that had trapped and assisted in killing the other cherub.
	Chris focused his thoughts inward and raised his sword.  His 
wings were numb with pain, so he let them slide back into their coat-
form.  One of the boys on the thing's back tried to struggle free.  A 
powerful wing caught his arm and broke it without the cherub even 
seeming to acknowledge the escape attempt.  
	"Who controls you?" Fiss demanded.  "Why do you do this?"
	Slowly, he could feel the cherub reaching into his mind, and he 
instinctively took a step backwards when it spread its arms and bloody 
claws like some grotesque mockery of a waiting embrace.  A word echoed 
within that piercing gaze that shook Chris to his core.  

	Conquest.

	The thrill was tangible in the thing's mind, but there was 
something more in the thought and emotion and feeling that made him 
sick to his stomach.  Something very wrong.
	Fiss raised his sword, and his wings came out on their own.  He 
could feel no pain in them.  Whatever these things were, they were no 
longer part of the Word.  The sword in his hands suddenly felt light as 
a feather, and when the first claws raked at him, he danced past in one 
step, ripping the thing's arm off with his blade, then wrenching one of 
the wings on its back off with his left hand.  
	A kind of craze possessed him, and he let it take over as he felt 
the bile in his throat.  His Archangels above managed to complete their 
spell, so the monster couldn't turn around and counterattack when Fiss 
leapt up and shredded the other wings with his bare hands, sword thrust 
deep in its belly.  The two boys and grandmother fell free and 
scrambled away, watching in awe.
	Fiss let his wings wrap around his hands, ignoring the memory of 
it happening in Edmonton.  Cloaked in razor-sharp feathers, he began 
using his arms to tear the thing open.  The Aszap howled in rage, and 
then in frightened anguish as he pulled bones from its body and ripped 
out massive chunks of organ and muscle.  
	When it was nothing more than a decimated husk in the back, Fiss 
pulled his sword off the ground, only now noticing it fell out during 
his assault, and walked back over to the thing's front quarter.  
Flickering dimly, its face turned to Fiss.  
	
	Conquest...

	Sword met skull and the thing was no more.  Stuck in the ground, 
its body doubled over and was still.  Fiss swung his blade to clean it 
of blood, but he was so utterly soaked by it all that it didn't really 
do much.  He felt sick.  Somehow physically ill and ashamed that such a 
thing existed.    
	A hundred people around him were watching in what he could only 
assume was a mixture of terror and awe at the gruesome display.  Fiss 
looked at them.  Nobody cringed, and he gave a light-hearted smile in 
response.  The battle was over.  
	"HURRY!" someone yelled over the crowd.  "THE GATE'S CLOSING!"
	Fiss sighed and took to the air once more.  The pain in his wings 
was almost too much to fly, but the two Archangels who had helped him 
earlier were all too happy to guide him to the gate spell.  
	Nathan had a deep sword-cut on his arm that he had wrapped 
hastily with cloth, but looked more worried about the several thousand 
people still yet to cross through the spell than his own injuries.  
When he saw Fiss, he made a strange face.  "What the hell is all that?"
	"Pudding," Fiss said.  "I was bathing in pudding during the 
fight.  Sorry I missed it."
	"Not the time for jokes, Chris," Nathan said angrily, all but 
shoving people through the barn-door sized hole in space.  "Battra's on 
the other side.  Said you could help."
	Fiss nodded, about to step through.  "Everyone else?"
	"Through already," Nathan said, but then motioned to the sky.  
"We have to do this now, though.  A couple of your winged buddies said 
reinforcements are coming."
	Looking up, Fiss saw shimmering in the distance.  More dominions.  
"Got it."
	"I'll make sure everyone gets through that can," Nathan said.
	Fiss turned to Famiel.  "Stay behind and help him.  I swear I'll 
keep it open until you two come through."
	Famiel bowed on his knee quickly without hesitation.  "We will 
succeed, Lord Fiss," he rose with a tears in his eyes.  
	Fiss paused.  "What is it?"
	"That was...glorious, m'Lord," Famiel said honestly. "What you 
did..."
	"It was messy," Fiss chuckled, patting him on the back.  
"Couldn't have done it without you."
	Nathan gave Fiss a questioning look.  
	"The pudding.  I'll tell you later," Fiss said, wiping a splatter 
of the cherub blood from his chin.  
	"Got it.  Go."
	Fiss jumped through and found himself standing next to Battra, 
who looked as if he had been running a marathon all morning.  The crowd 
on the other side was huge already, and were milling out into a grassy 
plain next to the forest they had just been deep inside.  The tree line 
still stretched on for as far as he could see, however.  They 
were...optimistically only halfway through the woods.
	"How can I help?" Fiss asked as Battra winced and the door began 
to shrink.  
	"You can't, you fool," Battra growled, hands outstretched trying 
to hold the door open through force of will.  "Do you think, if I could 
draw on help, that I wouldn't ask any number of others?"
	"There has to be some way," Fiss insisted. 
	"I can restart the spell, but by the time it re-opens those 
blasted cloud dominions will have their bellies full of anyone on the 
other side.  I can make it permanent, but then we invite the same fate 
to both sides of the gate!"
	"Do it," Fiss said.  "Make it permanent and we'll just fight them 
off."
	Battra turned to Fiss angrily.  "The day is still young, Fiss, 
and already we need to lick our wounds.  In case you haven't taken 
tally, we have lost a hundred fighters and two dozen of those Word-
Touched.  Ten more, mark me well, will fall to injuries unless we have 
time to rest.  We cannot repel another attack like that!"
	"I'm not losing thirty thousand people to this argument," Chris 
shouted at him.  "Make it permanent.  Now."
	They glared at each other for a moment.  Fiss fumed, while Battra 
was unreadable as always.  "Tell me," Battra growled, "do you govern 
your own people's lives with such suicidal plans?"
	"Last time I checked," Fiss said, "you were the only ones waiting 
for death."
	"Then, why..."
	"Because nothing is easy," the Knight grinned at him.  "Even 
death.  Now keep that fucking thing open.  I'll deal with the 
dominions."
	At first, Fiss wondered if Battra would just let the gate 
collapse.  There was a dark intent in his eyes that Fiss couldn't 
place.  He knew that, had not so many innocents been at stake, they 
would be fighting that very moment.  
	He closed his eyes reluctantly, and began drawing Theban in the 
air with his bare fingers.  The symbols turned from dull blue to bright 
red and raced towards the gate as if drawn in by a vacuum.   The gate 
flickered wildly, shrinking slightly and changing shape from a roughly 
hewn barn door to a passage way with a proper stone arch.  When it 
solidified, people began rushing through once more and Battra stepped 
away, lowering his arms.  
	"Seven days," Battra said with a frown.  "If you wish to guard 
this for seven days, then perhaps we can ignore how foolish your order 
was."
	Fiss nodded, drawing his sword.  "We'll see."
	
	An hour passed.  The wounded were coming through in pairs and in 
cartloads.  Only those families who had lost someone carried the dead 
for a proper burial.  All the while, through the shimmering distorted 
air of the gate, he waited for either the shrieking of dominions or his 
friends.  Looking through brought such a distorted view that there was 
no advance warning.  
	Battra and the few who knew healing magic were tending to the 
wounded Archangels first, and were slowly building rank behind Fiss and 
the area around the gate.  He could hear whispering behind him that the 
spell Battra had used was a Siege Gate.  One could not dispel it until 
seven days after its creation.  Only one could exist at any given time 
within the whole of the Word, and thus, it could not be countered or 
destroyed by a similar spell.  
	There was a long pause in people coming out of the gate, then a 
small group of worried looking swordsmen.  "The dominions are almost 
there!"
	"How many left?" Battra asked.
	"A handful," another said, rushing past.  "Not long now."
	"Orders, sir?" Battra said, looking over to Fiss. 
	"Stand back," Fiss advised, then looked hesitant.  "And please 
don't attack me if my wings fall off, okay?"
	The Archangels around him all shrugged and nodded.  "We know 
you're no fallen, Lord," one said. 
	"Keep that in mind," Fiss smiled and then walked towards the 
gate.  
	A final group of people ran through, carrying others who were too 
wounded to walk.  Then, Nathan and Famiel jumped through with relieved 
looks on their faces.  "They're right there," Nathan gasped, pulling 
out his guns.  "They're pissed, too.  I shot one of them down."
	Fiss nodded, drew his sword, and jumped at the gate.  His mind 
reached out and touched the hidden power of the Casting Block within 
his blade once again.  He was almost surprised at how comfortable it 
felt, as he was expecting to feel terrified at using it once more, or 
to hear the voice of the thing inside his sword that chided him for 
using it for such corporeal matters.  Only the satisfying feeling that 
he could do what he intended to do filled his mind.  
	The blade came down, cutting through mid-air and leaving a 
terrible rip.  The tear continued from the top of the gate, down 
through the distorted air within, and then somehow into the ground, 
even though his blade was pulled away long before reaching that point.  
He landed and took a step back, sheathing the katana with practiced 
ease.  

	Then, as simple as it could be, the Siege Gate disappeared.
	 
	Nobody moved for the longest time.  Fiss reached around and 
checked his wings.  They felt fine, despite his expectation that they 
would be ripped from him once more.  
	Battra rushed forward and examined the area that the gate had 
occupied, brushing his hand through the empty space as if he expected 
to feel something.  
	"What did you do?" Battra demanded.  "HOW did you do that?  That 
was not Theban!"
	"Not everything is Theban," Fiss shrugged and walked back through 
the crowd calmly.  "Just you wait until you see the internet.  That's 
some serious business."











Chapter 8











	Barlow's driving was as scary as one would expect of a blind man 
behind two metric tones of speeding metal, but they had made it to 
Calgary by two in the afternoon as he had promised.  The black sports 
sedan that they had been loaned for the trip was now spackled with 
every wasp, bee, fly and mosquito that dared to come between it and the 
Calgary city limits.  
	"I'm driving back," Beast said woozily as they left the car in 
one of the downtown parking lots.  
	"No way, man," Barlow said as Evidence followed with an unsteady 
trot.  "That was awesome!  First thing I'm getting with my fancy new 
salary is a car with a cop engine."
	"I pity the pedestrians in your way," Thomas groaned, looking 
around.  "So now what?"
	"Presumably," Beast offered, "our mark is homeless, or was before 
his powers allowed him to benefit from a stolen income."
	"I gave a heads up to the Coats in the area, so we'll hear if 
he's spotted," Barlow said as they walked.  
	"The hospital?" Thomas wondered.
	"Downtown.  Busy, but it's known to assist the demographic we're 
looking for," Beast said, pulling out his PDA and looking at some 
notes.  "I'll see if we can get an interview with one of the nurses on 
staff that night."
	"Well, shit, it's almost like we have a plan," Barlow said.  
"Tom, you gotta start smoking cigars so you can do the Murdock-From-
The-A-Team impression."
	"I'll do my best," Thomas laughed.
	"I refuse," Beast said, raising an eyebrow, "to say the phrase: 
'I Pity the Foo' for any reason, so please remove that thought from 
your head, Mister Barlow."
	"Fine," Barlow pouted.  "I'll be Mr T."
	
	Centre Street Open Clinic was a relatively new addition to the 
Calgary skyline, but had already made waves in the news when it started 
noticing the declining death and sickness rate in the city.  It was 
also near to some of the poorer pockets of the city, and was famous for 
assisting the homeless and needy with all the facilities of larger 
hospitals elsewhere in the province.
	The three Missionaries arrived just as the evening shift was 
arriving, and easily found the nurse who had been working in the wing 
where Doctor Trigs was found.
	"Think this is the place?" Barlow remarked as they waited for her 
in the break-room.  Her picture was plastered all over a little cork-
board with clippings from the news.  
	A fussy looking young woman walked into the break room, pulling 
off a light wind-breaker coat and stuffing her keys away quickly.  She 
didn't even notice the trio of new people until she found Beast was 
blocking her way to her locker.  She gasped, dropping her purse, which 
Beast promptly picked up and handed back with a gentleman's grace.  
	Before she could ask the very obvious question, Beast offered her 
his ID to inspect.  "Good evening, ma'am.  We're from the Missionaries 
Project, investigating the death of Doctor Trigs.  May we have a moment 
of your time, Miss Duncan?"
	She looked at the picture, then over to Barlow and Thomas who 
looked more impressed at the official introduction than she did.  "The 
cops already came through here, if that's what you need," she said 
moving past them to her locker.  "But yeah, sure, I don't mind."
	"May we see the room he was found in?" Thomas asked.  
	"This way," she said hurriedly, as if she had heard the same 
questions many times over the last few days.  "It's not being used for 
the moment, but we already had the cleaning crew sterilize the room."
	"Is everything okay, ma'am?" Barlow asked as they had to jog to 
keep up.  
	She slowed down and shook her head.  "No, I'm sorry," she said, 
turning to them.  "Just, ever since it happened, everyone has been 
treating me like a celebrity and I don't know why.  It's morbid, and 
I'm getting sick of it.  I've already asked my boss for a transfer to 
another clinic but that takes time, so I'm stuck with them saying I'm 
famous for finding John dead on the floor."  Her voice was starting to 
crack.  "I'm sorry, that must sound weird.  I should be enjoying it, 
right?"	
	Thomas shook his head.  "No, it's not weird."
	They reached the examination room a moment later.  The smell of 
ammonia was stronger here than elsewhere in the halls, but there was 
nothing else noteworthy about the little room.  A hospital bed was 
half-reclined along the wall, and a number of shelves and cupboards 
lined another.
	Nurse Duncan pulled a few chairs from the corner forward and 
stood by the bed, trying not to stare at the wall where the doctor had 
been found.  "We just buried him yesterday," she said as they arranged 
their seats.  Beast stayed standing and started looking over the room.
	"Anyone you didn't know attending the funeral?" Tom asked.
	"Not the guy I saw in here with him, if that's what you mean," 
she said with a shrug.  "Lots of people turned up.  A bunch of doctors 
he knew and I didn't.  I think even someone from parliament was friends 
with him.  I saw a few of those guys who look like secret service kind 
of hanging back outside the cemetery."
	"The night he was found," Thomas asked, "we read that the doctor 
was working with a patient?  Did they seem to be at odds?"
	She shook her head.  "No, but he was with a patient.  Some 
homeless guy who's been around once or twice for blood work.  They 
seemed friendly enough, and the doctor even cancelled another 
appointment to make room for him.  Said he wanted to help this guy get 
on his feet and all that."
	"Any mention of the guy's name?" Barlow asked.
	She nodded.  "Harvey, I think, but John never mentioned the guy's 
last name."
	Barlow smiled at Thomas who nodded, leaning forward.  "What else 
can you tell us?"
	"Well...I don't know if I should be saying much else," she 
flustered.  "I mean, we're not supposed to give out patients' 
information, not that we had him on record or anything, but it's still 
confidential."
	"We believe," Thomas said, "that Doctor Trigs was treating a very 
dangerous man, and this Harvey killed him for some reason.  Any 
information you can tell us could give us a clue to where he's going 
next."
	She looked frightened suddenly.  "Killed?  But the autopsy didn't 
show any signs of attack."
	"This guy attacks with magic, Ma'am," Barlow said, "the results 
probably didn't make much sense, did they?"
	Nurse Duncan shook her head.  "We sent off samples to check for 
cancer but the trauma was very sudden.  Nobody knew what it was.  Told 
the reporters it could be a virus," she said quietly.  "I'm suddenly 
kind of glad now."
	"Why is that?" Tom asked.
	"The man's chest x-rays looked horrible," she shrugged a bit 
sheepishly.  "He's probably in a lot of pain, and the guys at the lab 
figured he only had a few weeks left to live."
	Barlow and Thomas looked at each other, then back to the nurse.  
"What was he suffering from?" Thomas asked.
	She shook her head and sighed.  "I suppose you'd have to ask 
Doctor Trigs.  We can't find any of the records, so they were either 
filed away incorrectly or stolen I guess."
	"Any other evidence?" Thomas asked. 
	"Some tissue and blood samples," she said, shaking her head.  
"But they're all under quarantine right now at the university.  You'd 
have to talk to their health director."
	Barlow was already half dialling the number to the university 
when Beast clamped a hand on his shoulder.  "It's definitely him," he 
said.  "Harvey is the mage."
	"You use your mind powers to find that out?" Barlow asked, 
impressed.  
	"No," Beast shrugged, pointing to the lock assembly on the drawer 
nearby.  It hadn't been replaced yet, and was still loose in the drawer 
when he pulled it open.  "But he did this."
	"Wait," Nurse Duncan said, leaning forward.  "There was one other 
thing.  I didn't think it was important, but you think the doctor was 
murdered?"
	Thomas nodded. 
	"His...well, his wallet and car keys were missing.  We all just 
assumed he had them in his locker since we're really not supposed to 
carry around our personal things during our shift.  It keeps us safe if 
a patient flips out if they're in our locker, but nobody really follows 
that rule all the time.  His car went missing a day after...I think 
everyone just assumed the cops or Misses Trigs grabbed it."
	Barlow was all smiles as he called into the police.  "Hey, yeah, 
I need me a car.  Doctor John Trigs.  Yeah, I'll wait."
	"Misses Trigs," Thomas said, "have you talked to her recently?"
	"No," the nurse said, "but she was at the funeral, of course..." 
her eyes went wide.  Beast looked startled as well.
	Barlow finished on his call.  "They say they did a drive by the 
house.  It's parked at the Trigs residence.  So much for that."
	"No, wait," the nurse said.  "Misses Trigs mentioned that she got 
a ride in to the funeral with her son because her car was missing."
	"Thank you, ma'am.  We should be going now," Thomas said, 
standing up quickly as Barlow and Beast were already out the door, 
calling the cops to set up roadblocks.  
	Nurse Duncan looked terrified.  "Is Misses Trigs alright?  She's 
such a nice lady."
	"I hope she is," Thomas said, shaking her hand quickly.  "Thank 
you for all your help.  I'll call when we know what happened."











	The screaming had stopped an hour ago, but Harvey was still 
shaking.  He was tired.  From his head to his toes and all the way into 
his bones, he felt the fatigue from using his powers again and again.  
Breaking the locks.  The car ignition.  The doctor's wife's legs and 
arms.  It was all adding up.  
	Trying to calm himself, he sat back in the large, leather sofa of 
the Trigs residence's den, and found himself looking at one of the 
cigars Amon had given him. 
	He had, until now, been scared to try them.  They felt normal 
enough.  Smelled faintly of old newspaper and copper.  He found a knife 
in the kitchen and had chopped the top off in preparation to smoke it.  
It had been a while, so he was no expert, but he was confused when he 
neither saw nor smelled tobacco.  It seemed to be just pressed paper 
all the way through.  
	Still, it must have been soaked in some medicine or something, he 
decided, and finally pulled out the book of matches that Amon had given 
him to use.  
	The end lit, and his shaky hand pulled the cigar to his lips.  He 
took a slow, shallow draw through the paper tip, finding the taste 
strong but surprisingly pleasant.  As he continued to smoke the cigar, 
it seemed to get sweeter and sweeter.  He hadn't even noticed when it 
was that his hand had stopped shaking.  His body was no longer rattling 
and his chest didn't ache when he drew breath, even with it laced with 
the sweet smelling smoke.  
	"Holy shit," he whispered to himself, admiring the cigar in a new 
light.  "What's in this?"
	He felt like he was soaking in the cloud of smoke around him, 
letting it absorb into his skin.  It was hard to believe he wasn't 
becoming healthier with how perfect his body felt now, but he figured 
even if nothing was permanent, he was enjoying the vacation from the 
pain.  
	An antique grandfather clock in the corner of the dimly-lit den 
began to chime seven in the evening.  He sighed, taking one last long 
breath of the cigar, then extinguished it, half-burnt, on the table in 
front of him.  Where he had been careless before, stuffing the cigars 
in his coat, he now cradled them with care.  
	"It works," he laughed.  "It works.  Now...I just need more 
time," he said, smile fading.  "Just a little more."

	Somewhere in the house, a door opened.  

	Harvey felt adrenalin course through his system as the doctor's 
wife began screaming again.  Someone had come in from outside.  He 
looked up to the ceiling of the den, listening to three sets of 
footsteps run over the wooden beams above on the main floor.  "Shit," 
he whispered running over to the safe he had found behind a cheesy 
painting of dogs playing golf.  To his surprise, his body did not 
complain as he opened the door with a touch of his hand, causing bolts 
and springs to shoot out of the lock.  
	He had already loaded up on whatever valuables he could find 
upstairs.  The wife had mentioned the safe when he had broken her legs, 
hoping he would leave her alone if she co-operated.  Inside were 
several jewellery boxes and a stack of fifty dollar bills he estimated 
to be at least five thousand dollars.
	"Good enough," he huffed, then began looking for a way out.  The 
tiny windows of the den were too small for him to squeeze thorough, and 
concrete did not react well to his magic.  He decided to chance going 
through whoever just came in.  He hoped it was only three people, like 
he heard.  
	The house was huge, but didn't offer much in the way of hiding 
places in the living room or hallways.  Beast was talking to the 
sobbing woman who had been stuffed in the master bedroom's closet, but 
she was in shock from her broken bones and wasn't much help.  Thomas 
and Barlow began searching rooms frantically.  Both had their swords 
unsheathed and ready as they kicked down doors.
	Harvey sat crouched on the stairs, eyeing the front door that was 
half hidden behind another wall.  When he thought he heard the crashing 
the furthest, he ran for it.
	Barlow noticed immediately, seeing Harvey's aura of magic before 
anything else.  "FRONT DOOR!" he shouted, sword raised as he ran 
towards the startled mage.  
	Thomas was just behind Barlow, and ran around the far end of the 
living room as they charged through.  Harvey managed to reach the front 
door, but before he could run out to freedom, Barlow warped his blade 
into a crude, two foot wide throwing star and heaved it at the frame.  
It slammed into the door and frame, nearly severing Harvey's hand in 
the process.  When he tried to open the door, he found it firmly 
stapled shut.  
	Harvey turned to Barlow, only to be blindsided by Thomas as he 
body-checked him down, holding his sword ready for a killing blow.  
"Don't even think about it, Harvey," Tom said angrily.  
	The man's expression went from genuine surprise to a sharp anger.  
"You guys again?" he laughed, then moved to push Thomas off.  "How the 
hell did you..."
	"I said don't move!" Thomas shouted, pressing the tip of his 
blade firmly against Harvey's chest.  
	Harvey just glared at him.  "I don't have to."
	Tom felt his wrist and knee buckle, but managed to hold onto the 
sword long enough for it to fall and dig deep into Harvey's shoulder.  
Beast came rushing in from behind and landed a powerful smack of the 
dull end of his staff to Harvey's temple. 
	Harvey kept moving as if he didn't feel a thing.  He kicked 
Thomas off of him, then turned his gaze to Beast, who was bringing the 
spear-blade end of his weapon down to try and pin Harvey's shoulder to 
the ground.  Beast gasped as something dislodged in his chest and 
doubled over in pain.  
	Barlow kicked Harvey into the wall before the older man could 
react, and the floor exploded with warped, moving floor-boards under 
his control.  One rushed forward like a bear trap and pinned Harvey to 
the wall with a nail-studded grip.  It splintered a moment later as 
Harvey grabbed it and yanked it free from his stomach, ignoring the raw 
wound that it left.  
	"What the hell is this guy on?" Barlow hissed as two more planks 
shattered before they could deal wounds to the mage.  
	Harvey sported a huge, purple welt on his temple, a ragged slash 
from his collarbone to his armpit, and the massive gash in his stomach, 
but still moved as if he felt no pain at all.  "Is this all you've 
got?" he shouted, reaching through another pair of floorboards to grab 
Barlow's shirt.  Barlow ripped away just as the entire front portion 
exploded into bare threads.  
	Thomas tackled Harvey once more, this time sword-first.  The 
blade caught Harvey's arm and ripped into the muscle, tearing a huge 
chunk of the man's bicep from his bones.  Harvey never even flinched, 
and pushed Thomas past with a angry howl.  
	Thomas felt his jaw crack as he hit the ground, biting into his 
own tongue.  The world swam with pain, and he passed out.  Beast's face 
was turning purple, and a huge spot of blood was beginning to soak his 
shirt.  
	Barlow looked at his team dropping around him and glared at 
Harvey as the man stood back up.  "This isn't over," he hissed, even as 
he felt something in his arm bulge and a pinching pain in his side.
	Harvey laughed madly, bloodied and battered, but still feeling no 
pain.  "You're damn rights it isn't, you..."
	He was cut off by the wall opening up and floor ejecting him from 
the house at Barlow's command.  Barlow had just enough time to call for 
the cops to move in before darkness filled his vision and his body 
surrendered to the bliss of unconsciousness. 











Chapter 9











	"Scans complete," Sonia said, placing a small data chip in front 
of Dave, who didn't look up when she walked past.  "No Negaverse probe 
has come within nine hundred thousand kilometres of Earth."
	"Maury must be alive, then.  But why stop?  Point scans?" Dave 
asked, staring at the screens in front of him, showing the twelve 
Dolphin-class strike fighters floating silently in orbit.
	Sonia sighed and tapped her finger on the crystal to get his 
attention.  "In front of you."
	He looked up finally and nodded.  "Thank you, Sonia," he said.
	"What's going on, Dave?" she asked, sitting down in an adjacent 
chair in the command centre as computer screens flickered around them.  
Everyone else was busy on a project or piloting one of their ships in 
orbit.  "I've never seen you like this."
	"I'm tired," Dave said simply, then frowned.  "I'm tired of 
sitting here and doing nothing."
	Sonia smiled thoughtfully and placed a hand on his shoulder.  "We 
all are.  I wish we..."
	"No," Dave interrupted her.  "I HAVE been doing something.  Out 
there.  Almost getting killed, mind you, but at least I feel like I'm 
finally doing something."
	She shook her head.  "I don't understand.  Every agent does field 
work."
	"War isn't field work," Dave said, frustrated.  He ran his 
fingers through his hair, letting out an angry growl.  "Dammit.  What 
has this all been for?  I feel like I should be weeping or cheering or 
something, but I can't here.  I shouldn't be here.  I need to be OUT 
THERE." 
	Sonia pulled back her hand reflexively and Dave sighed.  
	"Dave," she said, "what are you saying?"
	He turned to Sonia and looked her in the eye.  "When was the last 
time you felt like you were part of the Human Race?"
	Sonia blinked, then opened her mouth but Dave cut her off.  
	"No, Sonia," Dave said, standing up, raising his arms around him.  
"I'm serious.  When was the last time?"
	Her mouth closed.  "I don't quite..." a pause, and a slight blush 
coloured her cheeks.  "Five years ago.  My birthday party.  Had too 
much fun, got into some trouble."
	"And skipped out from jail, if I recall," Dave said, his tone 
softening up.  
	Sonia grinned sheepishly.
	"Don't you miss that?" Dave asked.
	She looked ready to shake her head or shrug, but slowly, a nod 
came to her head.  "Yes, I think I do."
	Dave nodded and sat back down.
	Sonia looked confused, as if she was expecting a classic 
Reinquest Order Rant.  "So?"
	"So."
	"What do we do about it?" Sonia asked, raising an eyebrow.  "Or 
are you channelling your old friend Vasquez and just trying to make me 
think about it?"
	Dave reached into his coat and pulled out another data crystal.  
He handed it to Sonia, then stood back up.  "I have to get back to 
Edmonton.  Let the Senshi know I was wrong about the scans.  We're in 
the green for now.  Then, we'll be heading back to Sol to see what the 
hell Maury has done.  I'll contact you with the Dolphin's encoded 
channels in a few days.  Let me know what you think of that, will you?"
	"What is it?" Sonia asked, watching Dave walk to the door. 
	"Possibilities," Dave said simply.  "Idle chatter I've seen come 
up now and then on the P.C. output.  Maybe nothing.  Maybe something 
big.  Maybe.  Maybe I've been wrong all along."
	"I'll take a look at it tonight," she promised. 
	Dave turned to her.  "Nobody else.  Not yet.  You'll understand 
why when you see it.  Look at the data alone."
	"I will," Sonia said, a little frown creasing her brow.  "Don't 
worry, I won't show anyone else."
	He stood at the door for a moment, then nodded and left without 
another word.  










Chapter 10











	Waddin slipped through the crowded halls with practiced ease.  
Having spent his entire adult life on the Empyreal Battlecruiser, he 
knew every short-cut and service-access crevice hidden in the smooth, 
silver-plated halls.  Such was the life of a civilian official, as they 
had to be stationed near the Emperor at all times.  
	He often wished for life as it had been before the empire 
expanded into space.  Reaching the few planets and moons it could with 
magic seemed enough at first.  All habitable, rich in resources and 
wild plants and animals.  Only one moon had been populated with things 
that could be considered sentient, and from that, the Negaverse had 
gained its living armour technology.  
	Ruling the heavens as you gazed up to them seemed an impossibly 
romantic and ideal dream now.  As the first rockets and skippers 
brought the Empire outwards into the stars, it became necessary to rule 
with a mobile throne.  Now they ruled from metal shells and display 
screens, and they ruled poorly.  
	After Sanis had stopped the armed rebellion two years ago, Waddin 
vowed to rid the people of the Emperor forever.  At first, it seemed 
like an easy task, but then the famine came, and the only answer in the 
people's hearts had been to take what they needed.  With nowhere else 
to expand without an unrealistic amount of interstellar travel, old 
legends of the Senshi and their world of pure food, air and riches 
began to circulate until the gate crystals were found.  Then, they were 
no longer legends. 
	Waddin had been surprised when Sanis recommended against 
invasion.  His reasons were that the empire was already too big, and 
should return to a smaller, manageable size.  If it wasn't for Waddin 
trying to woo Dolesbur into his plans at the time, he would have agreed 
with the Emperor and ignored the outcry from the military at the 
thought of retreat – however incorrect or silly the idea was.  
	So here they were, on the edge of a new sun far too bright for 
their comfort, but necessary for life to continue back where the stars 
were far too dim.  The giant splatter of the Milky Way looked like a 
cluster of diamonds next to their sprinkle of sickly dull red and blue 
pinpricks in the skies back home.  
	Treaties would have to be signed soon, and that always made the 
military restless, looking for an excuse to cause more trouble.  "Job 
security," as Dolesbur called it.  Normally, the public would 
counteract this dangerous tension with a love of relative peace, but 
they were screaming for the head of the Senshi louder every day, images 
and stories of the great battles and wars of old now fresh in their 
minds from the stirring legends of yesteryear.  His own polls had shown 
a ten percent drop in approval when he announced that more time would 
be needed to interrogate the Senshi.  They wanted blood.  Now. 
	So, he began to spin it so the Emperor was the only name 
mentioned with the Senshi.  The Emperor Himself will interrogate.  The 
Emperor Himself will decide.  The Emperor Himself talks to the Senshi.  
Slowly, Waddin's approval ratings were coming back up as the anger 
focused where he wanted it to.  
	Sanis knew.  Of course he knew.  Waddin didn't hide the fact that 
he wished the Empire gone, and he was known as a hero because of that.  
Sanis, the boy tyrant, to be overthrown by the people's servant.  It 
was a nice thought, even though now he was beginning wonder how 
deserving the boy was of the label 'tyrant'.  
	He had just been denied audience with Sanis.  Another 
interrogation session, it seemed.  The boy never spoke about what 
questions or answers each session contained, but did speak of the 
Senshi - named Maury, apparently - with great interest.  Waddin had 
seen Sanis after an interrogation of a rebel commander, and could tell 
when the boy had needed to use force.  This Maury character never once 
seemed to inspire this darker talent in the Emperor, and their sessions 
had always been quiet.  
	So, with nothing else on his mind, Waddin went to the Royal 
Archives, where Yean and his team of alien minds had been working non-
stop for the last two days.  He took the service access way, using a 
mobile booth and an inspection track to sneak through the normally 
crowded first tier of the giant library.  
	When the little mobile booth entered the actual library, it was 
nearly at the ceiling, and had to snake its way around the kilometres-
long archive in a gentle corkscrew.  Waddin enjoyed this short-cut more 
than any others through the Battlecruiser.  The view was never tiring.  
	White and rose-coloured stone walkways drew precise lines between 
the mushroom-shaped bookshelves and scroll cases, each of them holding 
more reading material than most could cover in a lifetime.  Thirty of 
these massive carousels filled the room, and were only a portion of the 
wealth hidden here.  Tiny tables with holographic displays connected to 
computer-cores within each of the thirty carousels, giving any user 
access to modern history and information too complex to hold on paper, 
stone or parchment.  
	Even now, they understood only the basics of these technologies, 
having gleaned much of their current mastery from dead civilizations 
and descendants who knew only process, not principle.  
	Yean's race was starting to discover some of the hidden secrets.  
Yet another reason they were recently classed from a slaves to a 
citizen's race, but they were still years behind full mastery.  It was 
a pity, in Waddin's mind and others, that they should be so far behind 
in arts and knowledge, but gain control of all military aspects the 
moment they were stolen from other cultures and ancient civilizations.  
He was almost glad that these Sol people had no obviously advanced 
weaponry, or the military commanders would have ripped the station 
apart in their hunger for it.  
	Waddin stepped out of the booth once he reached a dimly lit 
section of the archives.  Walls were erected around a cluster of 
computer terminals and a smaller version of the mushroom-bookshelves 
elsewhere, holding mostly reference, translation and indexing 
materials.  
	Yean and six other Bansicche were staring at their screens with 
unwavering eyes (did they even have eye-lids?  He'd never once seen a 
Bansicche blink) and unmoving bodies.  Only their front arms moved, 
tapping commands on the smooth keyboard-surfaces in front of them.  As 
Waddin stepped into the room, he could hear a faint, windy echo.  Air 
was being passed from each of their skulls, swirling around the room 
and into the mouth-holes of all the researchers.  The moment he stepped 
into the path of the breeze, all seven of the Bansicche stopped their 
silent vigil and looked up over to the intruder.  
	"Sorry," Waddin said, realizing he was interrupting them. 
	"Continue," Yean wheezed to the others.  "I will speak."
	The other six all swivelled their heads back around to their 
screens and the breeze, minus Yean, continued a moment later. 
	"Any progress?" Waddin asked as they stepped out of the room.  
	"Yes," Yean whispered, and his mouth moved as if it was trying to 
form a word that it hadn't used in a while.  "Exciting era.  Many false 
reports.  Many true reports.  All...exciting."
	Waddin laughed quietly.  He had never seen anyone relish the act 
of tedious research as much as his alien friend seemed to.  "That is 
very good to hear." His smile faded.  "Have you found what the Emperor 
wanted?"
	"Some stories seem to agree," Yean breathed.  "Others confirm the 
Senshi were as in legend."  
	"Can you give me a report now?" Waddin asked. 
	Yean waved his arms back and forth slightly, a motion he equated 
to shaking one's head to the negative.  "Incomplete.  Five days, now 
three days.  No earlier."
	Waddin nodded and sighed.  "Very well.  I'll let you get back to 
your research."
	"Question," Yean whistled. 
	"For me?" Waddin shrugged.  "What is it?"
	"Magic," Yean breathed.  "Old magic.  Cannot discover true spell.  
Assist?"
	Waddin had a large personal library of old spells, and was widely 
recommended when it came to strange, rare or unremembered tomes.  While 
he was not known for casting spells in combat, his careful, studious 
nature fit well with older, larger, and chaotic castings.  "Of course.  
Can you describe it?  Does it have a name?"
	"A sea of shadows, then fire," Yean said cryptically.  "Fuel is 
people and their hate."
	"I'll look for it," Waddin said, mind racing for the combination.  
Shadows and fire rarely were combined, but even as he thought it over, 
ideas were coming to him.  "Can you give me that part of the report?"
	"Yes.  Incomplete."
	"That would be fine," Waddin nodded, waiting patiently as the 
Bansicche trotted back into the research room.











	"My home?" Sanis asked, surprised by the question.  "This is my 
home."
	"What, this room?" Maury laughed, leaning against the metal mesh 
like it was a stiff hammock.  "Not much of a pimp pad.  I suppose 
you'll learn when you get older though.  Attracting the women with your 
power and all that."
	Sanis turned bright red, but shook his head.  "No, I mean this 
ship is my home."
	"Ahh," Maury turned to face him once more.  "But where were you 
born?  You weren't born here in some nursery on board, were you?"
	Sanis' face told Maury he was.  
	"Oh, okay," Mo shrugged.  "That's cool too.  Makes no difference 
to me.  We have shows back..."
	"Shows?" Sanis asked.
	"Shows," Maury said.  "Television.  Movies.  DVDs.  All the fancy 
ways for us to watch recordings of other people doing interesting 
things.  Anyway, me and my best buddy Chris used to geek out and watch 
Star Trek all the time.  Babies born on spaceships is pretty cool."
	"Why is that?" Sanis asked, intrigued.  
	Mo shrugged.  "Well, back then, when we watched a lot of TV and 
stuff, we didn't know we had all these powers.  Hell, I figured I'd be 
stuck in Calgary for my life until we got to Japan.  I never figured 
we'd be traveling to other worlds and universes and mystical dimensions 
made of cheese.  Babies being born in space...having access to the kind 
of things we can only dream of normally.  It's a cool idea that one day 
we could be like that."
	"Not really," Sanis sighed, leaning back in his own seat.  "It's 
dull after a while, to be honest.  All I know are these decks and these 
rooms.  I could tell you the number of plasma rivets that hold the deck 
plates together on this ship from my own personal experience."
	"Really?" Mo asked.
	"Three million, nine-hundred thousand and fifty eight."
	"Shit," Mo laughed.  "You must have been bored.  Haven't you ever 
been out on a planet?"
	Sanis nodded, but didn't look very happy at the idea.  "Back 
home.  The Home World.  But it's hardly the paradise it once was, and 
the last time I was there, it was to..." he stopped. 
	Maury felt the room darken.  Obviously a bad memory.  "Grass," he 
said, recovering the Emperor's attention.  "Have you ever seen grass?"
	Sanis had trouble with the translated word.  It approximated to 
moss in his mind.  "I don't think so.  Like, on a rock?"
	"No, on a lawn," Maury said, standing up and walking to the 
middle of his side of the room.  "Cool grass on a hot day.  Just laying 
down and looking up at the sky.  Best thing in the universe to do with 
yourself when you're depressed or just wanting to relax."
	Sanis sighed, shaking his head.  "All we have on the Home World 
is burnt soil," he said, then raised an eyebrow.  "Can I show you?"
	Maury shrugged.  "Sure."
	The room flickered and changed into a wide open space in the 
blink of an eye.  The metal mesh was still between them, stretching 
around Mo as far as the eye could see and as high as he could dare to 
lift his gaze into the dual-sun horizon.  
	It was as he remembered the Negaverse, but deader.  Colder.  The 
suns still cast hard, piercing light, but felt dim compared to his 
memories years ago.  Rust-coloured soil covered the ground, and dark 
green and black skyscrapers loomed over them, casting monstrous shadows 
the opposite way.
	Mo leaned down and picked up a handful of the soil.  It was only 
barely softer than salt.  "Not exactly the garden of Eden, is it," he 
mused. 
	"All gardens and crops are grown indoors," Sanis explained.  
"Nothing grows on the surface of ten planets now.  Too much or too 
little light."
	"But," Maury grinned at him, "this is your mind, right?"
	Sanis nodded, then raised an eyebrow.  "Can you describe your 
world to me?"
	Mo smiled, then looked up to the dark purple sky.  "First of all, 
get rid of that sun."
	Sanis looked up and it was gone a moment later.  
	"This one, move it further away, but then make it brighter and 
yellowish.  Then," Maury said, looking around for references.  "The 
sky.  Make it a light blue.  And white clouds.  You need white, fluffy 
clouds everywhere, but not too many."
	Sanis nodded, and the world shifted hues dramatically.  He 
squinted in the new light.
	The colour was off, but close enough.  Mo looked around at the 
ground.  "Make the ground brown, then...grass.  Mmm," he thought for a 
moment as the soil changed colour.  "Hair, make thick green hair on the 
ground."
	"What?" Sanis laughed despite himself.  
	"Yeah, like...millions of flat green pieces of hair," Mo said 
excitedly.  "I'd say blades of grass, but you might make them sharp.  
They have to be soft.  Bendy and cool."
	Sanis closed his eyes to concentrate on the idea.  Maury watched 
in amazement as the entire world around him grew a two-foot high length 
of wild green fuzz.  "Like that?" the boy asked, looking around in 
confusion.  
	"No, uhm..." Maury chuckled.  "Try shorter, and maybe thicker.  
You know, like tiny, long leaves on a plant."
	The two images combined into a kind of fuzzy, but very grass-like 
surface only half a foot tall.  Sanis looked very proud of himself and 
Maury nodded, bending down to admire the hair-grass.  He wet his 
fingers in his mouth and carefully smoothed out a clump of the stuff, 
making it less fuzzy.  Sanis nodded and soon, the other blades of grass 
all shed their fuzziness, leaving a stiff carpet of green grass as far 
as the eye could see. 
	Maury laughed.  The world seemed as if someone had given a child 
a paint-by-numbers book and was asked to make a photo-realistic 
painting using only a dozen colours.  Sanis looked depressed.  "Not 
good enough?"
	"It's good," Maury admitted.  "A little off, though.  You'll have 
to come by and visit so you can try out the real thing."
	"Try?" Sanis asked.  "What do you do with this stuff?  Eat it?"
	"Only if you're REALLY bored," Maury advised.  "For the full 
effect, we'll need a hill.  Maybe just thirty feet up.  Nice and smooth 
and round."
	Sanis nodded, and a huge mound pushed them up into the air, 
taking the mesh with them.  Even with the colours not-quite-right, it 
looked like every kindergarten kid's fantasy.  An endless sea of grass 
to play on.
	"Now, follow my lead," Maury said, pulling off his shoes and 
socks, tossing them aside.  Sanis reluctantly did the same, taking off 
his tiny sandals and placing them behind him.  Then, Maury lay down on 
the grass sideways.  Sanis shrugged and tried it.  The grass smelled 
like hair, Mo observed.  "Now, roll!" he shouted, pushing himself off 
the top of the hill with his leg.  
	Sanis copied him, and gasped in fright as his body was grabbed by 
gravity and he began rolling down the hill.  He tried to stop himself 
with his arms, but Maury saw this and said: "No!  Keep your arms in!  
Trust me!" he laughed, arms raised above his head so he could roll like 
a log.
	Sanis landed on his face painfully, but soon learned how to move 
his head between his arms so he didn't get a mouthful of hair-grass 
each time.  
	The world, now so different from the purple and red of his 
memory, seemed to become a whimsical dream of spinning green and blue.  
He heard Maury laughing as they rolled down the grassy hill, and it 
seemed like a perfect thing to try.  Spinning and dizzy, he tried a 
little chuckle that quickly exploded into laughter as he felt his shirt 
getting tangled up over his head.  
	When they both came to a stop, the entire world was spinning 
literally, and Maury had to steady himself by focusing on the mesh 
between them.  Sanis all of a sudden looked like the boy he was, 
laughing with his silver hair sticking up all around him from static 
electricity.  
	Sanis looked over and saw Maury grinning at him, so he quickly 
stopped laughing and straightened himself out.
	"So?" Maury asked.  
	"Very interesting," Sanis said, looking around him.  "I don't 
quite get how that can be relaxing, but I agree it would lighten my 
mood if I was feeling depressed."
	"Ahh, well, for the relaxing thing, you just need to lay back and 
enjoy the outdoors," Maury smiled, running his hands through the grass.  
"It's mother nature's way of saying chill out."
	"Mother Nature?" 
	"Maybe next time," Maury promised.  "You just got a hold of the 
word 'cool'.  We've had thousands of years to mess up the words in our 
own languages.  You can't learn it all in a week."
	Even with the dark, monolithic buildings on the horizon, the 
scene was very peaceful.  Sanis laid down and looked at the crystal 
blue sky.  Fluffy clouds began to float by, shading his eyes from the 
brilliant sun.
	"I think I'd like to visit your world, Maury," Sanis said 
sleepily.  
	"Yeah," Mo sighed, laying back on the grass as well.  "Kinda want 
to get back there myself."
	Sanis smiled, closing his eyes.
	"I appreciate this, you know," Mo said.  "Trying to keep my ass 
out of the chopping block."
	"Don't thank me just yet," Sanis warned.  "A lot of people still 
want you dead.  I'm still trying to decide if they're right or not."
	"I never said thank you," Mo chuckled.  "Just that I appreciate 
the effort."
	Sanis smiled, feeling the warm sun on his face.  

	Emperor.

	Emperor?

	"EMPEROR!" 
	
	Sanis gasped as he felt someone grabbing him by the shoulders.  
His vision fading into the dark grays and rich royal blues and reds of 
his throne room.  Yen was shaking him frantically, while Sapna was 
rushing towards the door to get help.  
	"I'm up!" Sanis gasped, disoriented.  "I'm fine, Yen.  Yen, I'm 
FINE!" he shouted, causing the guard to stop his shaking.  
	Yen and Sapna looked terrified, but bowed and stepped back as the 
young Emperor folded a piece of paper as proof of his mind's stability.  
"Why in the Empire's name were you shaking me like that?" he demanded, 
showing them the shape that looked remarkably like one of Yen's 
daggers.  
	"You," Yen said nervously, "were snoring, my Emperor."
	Sanis turned bright red, then turned to Sapna, who nodded a 
blushing consent as well.  "I...I don't snore!" Sanis said hurriedly, 
picking himself up off the chair and rushing to the washroom to clean 
up.  
	Sapna and Yen eyed each other.  "I've never seen him fall asleep 
during an interrogation," Sapna whispered.  
	"Neither," Yen agreed, brow creasing. 











Chapter 11










	Nearly three hundred had fallen in the last attack, ripping any 
hopeful thoughts from those still not convinced of the journey's 
danger.  Instead of celebrating that the last gate spell had taken them 
nearly halfway on their path, everyone looked toward the miles ahead 
with restless worry.  Nobody slept long these nights.  They were 
shorter now that summer was in full swing anyway, so they marched from 
dawn to dusk with only the briefest pauses between for meals that made 
the long train of people look like a caterpillar as one section would 
stop, eat, then move on as the next few hundred did the same.  Sleep 
copied their pace and came in short, deep beats between the sun, but 
even with this mad pace, the trees slowed them down incredibly.  
	The mood of the camp had made further interviews difficult and 
sporadic at best, so Jesminder immersed herself in the group, often 
traveling with groups of farmers and a few of the more civilized 
fighter camps as they moved on.  Every night, she spent an hour or more 
of the precious time for sleep instead writing in her journal of her 
experiences.  Some nights, it was simply a brief mention of who was 
who, or who did what.  Other times, she found truly interesting stories 
and ended up sending them to the City of SkitZ to be published on the 
news website back home.  
	She tried to stay away from the Archangels as much as possible.  
For a while, she told herself it was so she didn't get in the way of 
the planning and minor leadership tensions.  Battra clearly thought of 
her, Nathan and Jean as tourists despite the fact they immersed 
themselves in the group to help, heal, battle and discuss whenever they 
could.  
	Eventually, though, she began to realize that someone disliking 
her or her occupation had never slowed her before.  It wasn't Fiss, 
rather she wished she could spend more time with him, even if he was 
going to chase old romances for now.  At least he told her instead of 
leading her on.  She decided to commandeer the moody Knight for a 
heart-to-heart, or at least a meal like he had promised her.  
	The camp was unusually quiet tonight.  Everyone, when they got 
off their feet, generally crashed hard into sleep.  Only a dozen weary 
lookouts stood by small campfires, using the rolling gel-like 
phenomenon to spear light into the dark woods around them.  Even so, 
this set of moon and stars seemed to bring about a heavier feeling in 
the air than just commonplace exhaustion.    
	She found Fiss' tent near the main Archangel cart.  A small 
electronic light flickered within, and she guessed he was on the link 
to Michael.  While she didn't want to eavesdrop, she could hear the 
conversation clearly beyond the thin nylon walls.  
	"Hey," Fiss said, his voice sounding as tired as the others.  
	"You look like shit, man," Michael said helpfully.  
	Fiss chuckled.  "How's Pluto?"
	Michael sighed.  "I haven't been back in a while.  It's been 
crazy here.  The new doors are done, though.  We can get the group 
through within a day easily.  We didn't have much time to talk, though.  
Some major shit's happening with Maury.  You heard?"
	Fiss nodded.  "I don't know what he has planned, but I'm glad 
Dave's chilled right out about it."
	"Me too.  Last thing we need is that fucking war the Spud Twins 
were prophesying about."
	"At least," Fiss chuckled, "I won't be the only 'prophesized 
one'."
	"No, but that puts you in a class with Trevor," Michael chuckled. 
	"You go to hell.  You go to hell and you die," Fiss offered 
helpfully, flipping his SkitZy friend the bird through the tiny screen.  
"So, anyway." 
	"Yeah," Michael's voice went lower, as if he was worried about 
eavesdropping.  Jess instantly felt guilty.  "Talked to Uriel.  That in 
itself is amazing."
	"No doubt."
	"But she told me that nobody's been selling or renting her 
Cherubs, that's for damn sure," Michael said.  "But, she did mention 
that a group from Gabe's house once raided her stables and captured a 
number of them."
	"Captured?" Fiss said, surprised.  "How?"
	"You're not the only one who was shocked," Michael said.  "Left a 
trail of dead all the way to the ocean, but once they got there, they 
were able to hide quite effectively.  Gabe told me that it was a side 
project ran by one of her younger lieutenants.  Completely off the 
record.  Only Gabe and this strike team knew about it.  IF they were 
successful, they would go after a couple of each House's cherubim and 
bring them back to Bikko for testing."
	"What kind of testing?" Fiss asked.
	"You know," Michael said, "the usual.  How best to kill.  What 
ranges of magic or powers each had.  But it never got that far because 
the team went missing when they captured the Aszaps."
	"Now that, I believe," Fiss said.
	"Gabe wrote them off as dead," Michael said.  "Any inquiries into 
their fate would have tipped Uriel off that Gabe's House was behind the 
attack, and they weren't prepared for war at that time.  As far as 
anyone can tell me, that was the only time an Aszap Cherub went missing 
or was out of the complete control of Uriel or her subordinates.  I 
sent you a list of their names and descriptions, just in case."
	"Better than nothing," Fiss sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his 
tent.  "What about the other thing?"
	Michael seemed just as uncomfortable about the topic.  "Well, 
naturally, my own Cherubs seem to think it's impossible.  Their wedding 
tackle is only for show, and if anyone would know it is Cass.  She 
laughed at me like I asked her the funniest question in the world.  
Asked what kind of kinky party I was planning to start, asking about 
cherub hard-ons and all."
	"Ahh, sorry," Fiss said.
	"No worries," Michael chuckled.  "She's just mad because she 
can't ride the SkitZ Machine.  Anyway, yeah, completely not possible.  
But here we are talking about normal cherubs who obey their House 
completely.  Eden's Will isn't part of the Word, and it's impossible 
for them to pretend to be a House.  If they've found a way around that, 
then I doubt they'd waste time trying to control our cherubs and just 
breed their own...again, not that it would be possible."
	"Agreed, Fiss said. 
	"But," Michael said, voice now just barely a whisper, "I do have 
another theory.  Have you heard of Nephilim?"
	"A little," Fiss nodded.  "Gabe told me about them.  Kinda like 
aborted angel-babies.  Pretty much demons, aren't they?"
	"Not really," SkitZ said.  "They're more like incomplete angels.  
Normally self destruct in the womb, but once in a while if they're 
noticed early enough, they can be birthed and live...interesting lives.  
They fight like crazy warrior sages did before the Word.  Insane magic 
power and no 'falling' or being restricted in any way to the old magic.  
It's also what turns them into gibbering husks if they indulge in angel 
behaviour.  It's too much for them...for anyone really.  You NEED the 
Word or it all goes to shit.  That's why you had the problems in 
control and nightmares before you got your wings."
	Fiss nodded.  "Poor bastards."
	"Yeah, but they're also pretty popular around war-time.  Soldiers 
without restraints and a limited shelf-life.  Hell, I'd love to have a 
few on my front lines when the next asshole tries taking up Lucifer's 
job, but I'd make sure they were on the front-FRONT lines, if you know 
what I mean."
	"Cannon-fodder?" Fiss guessed.  Michael nodded on the screen.  
"Who else uses them?"
	"Well, like I said, Gabe has a small guard of them.  They're 
tamer than most, so she allows them to patrol the outer rim of her 
lands during peacetime as well as war.  Strange thing is that, because 
they're usually a breeding accident or a birth defect, there's usually 
not that many of them to be used at any one time.  Gabe was the talk of 
the town when she had an entire squad of them."
	Fiss nodded.  "How?"
	Michael's grin was audible.  "Turns out that same lieutenant that 
went shopping for Aszaps had discovered a few secret techniques earlier 
on in her career for Gabe's special projects wing.  Now, while she 
hasn't been seen in nearly ten years and is presumed dead, if anyone 
knows how to twist the Word around an abomination like those Aszaps, 
it's this chick."
	Fiss nodded.  "Sounds like a theory, anyway."
	"I spend the last week knee deep in books about angel wangs 
instead of Setsuna's bed and all I get is 'sounds like a theory'?" 
Michael pouted.  "Some gratitude."
	Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Fiss seemed to crack 
a grin.  "I'm sorry," he cleared his throat.  "Oh, wonderful and wise 
Michael!  Your efforts have saved this day and many more to come!  I am 
at your feet in debt!"
	"That's better," Michael said with a laugh.  "Okay, anyway, we 
also got a transmission from the news dudes.  I'll send it so you can 
give it to Jess."
	"Awesome, thanks." 
	"How is that little minx, anyway?" Michael asked casually. 
	"Busy," Fiss shrugged.  "Haven't seen her around much lately.  
It's been crazy these last few days."
	"Don't," Michael said angrily.  "No excuses.  Being busy isn't a 
fucking Virtue and it isn't about to be added to the list anytime 
soon."
	Chris seemed stunned by the outburst.  "Mike, come on.  You know 
it isn't that simple."
	"You choose the level of complication, my friend," SkitZ said 
darkly.  "Yeah, I could stick around here and knock boots with Cass for 
the rest of my days because we had a fling when we were babies.  Or I 
can move on and actually enjoy life in AND out of the sack.  In fact, 
why the hell am I still talking to you?  I can be in Tokyo in five 
minutes and be chillin' with my green-skirted princess."
	"Yeah, but..."
	"No, I'm serious.  Why the hell am I still talking to you?"
	"Oh, yeah, okay then.  Have fun," Chris sighed.
	Michael chuckled.  "Dude, don't get all emo on me.  I'm kidding."
	"No, you're not," Fiss laughed. 
	"Okay, you're right.  I'm going.  Talk to you later.  You should 
be out of the woods in three or four days.  We'll have a few loads of 
cargo 'misplaced' for you there."
	"Have fun," Fiss advised. 
	"Natch."
	The light dimmed and Chris slumped over in his tent.  Jess 
quietly moved away, then walked back towards him, making sure to create 
enough noise on the soft grassy earth to alert him to her presence.  
	"Fiss?" she asked.  "You awake?"
	"Been there long?" Fiss asked, unzipping the tent.  
	"Who was that?" Jess asked, kneeling down to look inside.  
	"Just SkitZ," Fiss said, kicking some of his clothes and bedding 
off to the side to make room for her.  "Got a transmission from your 
boss," he said, passing her a data chip.  
	"Guess we'll see what the public is saying," Jess sighed, popping 
it into her shirt pocket.  "The reviews were mixed last time I read 
them."
	"They always will be," Fiss shrugged, leaning back against his 
sleeping bag.  "I find it takes ten nice, fluffy reports to cancel out 
the crap I feel after reading one bad one.  How're you doing 
otherwise?"
	"Fine," she said scratching her hair.  "Wish we were back at the 
river, though.  I miss having actual baths."
	"Script doesn't quite cut it, does it?" Chris smiled. 
	"Beavis around?" Jess asked, seeing the empty little pillow off 
to the side next to a water dish. 
	"Scouting," Fiss said.  "Why?  You two have a hot date planned?" 
	"Something like that," Jess smiled at him.  "I believe you owe me 
dinner."
	Fiss looked around sheepishly.  "I really don't have anything 
ready.  Dominion-jerky?"
	"I was thinking something fresher, maybe," she said.  "Care to 
join me?"
	"Jess, you know..."
	"It's just dinner," she promised with a gleam in her eyes.  "I 
want to show you something I learned."
	Fiss sighed, put on his overcoat and followed her up and out of 
the little tent.  They slipped through the sea of trees, tents and 
shelters quietly as they could.  Jess brought him back to her tent, 
disappearing inside briefly and returning a moment later with what 
looked like a toy bow-and-arrow set with small stones instead of 
arrows.  "What's that?" he asked as they walked further into the woods. 
	"Slingshot," she said with a smile.  "I'm still working up to the 
Brauhanas."
	"Oh?"
	"The big buffalo-things need something with more firepower," she 
explained.  "But this is enough to stun some cookers."
	"We're hunting cookers?" Fiss laughed quietly.  
	"I learned how to clean them today," Jess stuck her tongue out at 
him playfully.  "It's this, or week-old dragon skin."
	"I see," Fiss smiled.  "Very well, lead on.  I don't think I've 
ever tried cooker."
	They slipped through the bushes and trees for a while, until the 
flickering dim lights of the camp were far behind them and their only 
illumination came from the moon and stars above poking through the tops 
of the trees.  
	It was then that Fiss realized just how much time Jess had been 
spending with the hunting parties.  She ducked and skirted through the 
trees and branches like they were nothing.  He followed a few steps 
behind, trying not to focus too hard on her back as she blazed the 
trail with the tiny sling-bow in her hand.  Michael's words were still 
fresh in his mind, and he was trying not to mix the phrase 'enjoy life' 
with the image of the cute reporter slinking through the woods with 
feline grace.  
	"Shh," she said, slowing suddenly.  Fiss almost ran into her 
backside as she bent down, and thanked his wings for the added 
alertness they brought him. 
	"What is it?" he whispered next to her ear, leaning over her as 
they peered into the darkness.  Without his sunglasses, he couldn't see 
much more than the tiny flecks of moonlight reflected off of the damp 
underbrush.  
	She pointed with her sling bow and he saw a round, fuzzy thing 
with a tiny rabbit-like mouth quietly gnawing on the base of an orange-
flowered plant.  "This is the root that fills their fire-gland," Jess 
turned and whispered into his ear.  "When they're eating, their bodies 
are so small that their own chewing makes it harder for them to hear 
predators, and their eyes are focused on their meal, so they're the 
easiest to hunt."
	"Kind of ruins the sport, doesn't it?" Chris asked quietly.
	"Come on, I'm still new at this.  Give me my victory," she smiled 
sweetly against his cheek.
	"Still gotta shoot him," Fiss advised.  "No bragging yet."
	Jess nodded and raised the little weapon, lining it up along her 
forearm.  She pulled back the string and rock-pouch, causing the bow to 
flex impressively.  In a flurry of movement, the cooker noticed the 
hunters and tried to make a run for it.  Jess let go of the stone, and 
it sailed into the tiny animal's body, knocking it down with a squeak.  
	"Nice shooting," Chris laughed as Jess made her arms up into a 
very Sailor-Senshi-ish victory pose.  "Cute.  Very cute."
	"Why, thank you, Mister Fiss," she grinned at him.  "You're not 
so bad yourself."
	Fiss turned red and she chuckled, going over to the dead cooker.  
After poking it to ensure it wasn't just playing dead, she picked it up 
and walked back to him, reaching into her belt (at his eye-level) and 
pulling out a small folding knife.
	"Hold this," she said, passing him the sling bow.  "We'll need 
nine or ten small twigs.  Can you manage?"
	"I think I should be able to," he said dryly, reaching over and 
snapping three branches off of a nearby tree.
	Jess' eyes twinkled in the moonlight.  "Don't get smart with me, 
Mister Fiss.  This is a serious survival lesson.  You should pay 
attention.  This could save your life when you're out of Jolt and 
dragon-jerky."
	Fiss nodded with a reluctant grin as she began carefully slipping 
her knife into the neck of the tiny animal, making a seam in its fur.  
He hunted around the tiny area for a few seconds and easily found the 
branches she requested.  "Now what?"
	"Cookers are very clean and immune to most common infections, 
I've been told," Jess said as she carefully peeled the animal's fur off 
like it was an oversized grapefruit.  There were only the smallest 
traces of blood as she did, and Fiss was impressed that she could be so 
adept at the hunting arts as well as her array of investigative 
talents. 
	"Jess the savant," Fiss smiled as she handed him the fuzzy skin.  
	"Build the sticks in a triangle, save the thickest one for the 
spit," she said, feeling the skinned animal for what Fiss correctly 
assumed was the fire-gland.  "Put the fur in the middle.  We can cook 
it right here."
	She made three cuts, showing Fiss the veins and bones that he 
should cut along and which to avoid.  The tiny animal came apart 
easily, and the orange-ish bulb of fire-producing glands was next to 
the less desirable end of the digestive track.  Jess gave him the knife 
to separate them and to prepare the middle stick as a kebab-skewer.  
	"Now, the important thing is to..." she gasped, dropping the 
little torso suddenly, holding her hand as if it had bitten her.
	Fiss jumped up and looked at her fingers.  A small bit of steam 
was coming off her thumb.  "What happened?"
	"I forgot," she cringed as he used his coat to dab away some 
orange goo.  "It was eating.  When their saliva touches the root it 
turns caustic," she said, frustrated.  "I'm sorry, I didn't even 
think..."
	"It's okay," Fiss said, examining her hand.  A harsh red rash 
seemed to be the only damage, but it looked painful enough.  "The fact 
that you know that is impressive enough."
	"No," she said, the frustration mounting in her voice.  "I'm 
sorry, we should just go back.  This was a stupid idea," she shook 
against him.  "I'm sorry...I just wanted..."
	He pulled his sleeve into his mouth and wet it, then gently 
brushed the cloth on the injury.  Jess jumped in surprise, then melted 
against him with a grateful sigh.  
	"Better?" he asked with a small grin as she straightened herself 
out a moment later, cheeks a dark pink in the moonlight.  She nodded 
wordlessly as Fiss wet down another section of his coat's sleeve and 
continued cleaning the fire-gland stuff off her hand.  
	"I was just..." she shivered as the cool cloth touched her again.  
"About to apologize for ruining the mood."  Her eyes came up shyly.  
"Guess I don't have to just yet."
	Fiss' heart was racing, but he just smiled and continued to clean 
the wound the best he could.  It scared him how easy it was to forget 
reasons not to be around Jess when she was in full flirt-mode.
	"They should teach this in first-aid class," Jess said sweetly.  
	"Not everyone has a coat made from magic, though," Fiss offered 
with a wink.  
	"Ah," she pouted.  "And here I was thinking it was just your 
touch making me feel amazing."
	Chris shot her his best attempt at an angry glare, but he had the 
sneaking suspicion that the young woman just found it cute.
	"I'm surprised you haven't tried to shoot me down yet," Jess said 
quietly moving to work on the fire.  "Does this mean you've 
reconsidered?  Or are you just confident I won't get through that thick 
skin of yours?"
	Chris knelt across the little twig pile from her, taking the 
imaginary protection it gave him gratefully.  "Think of the 
consequences," he said quietly.  "I'm not exactly a low-maintenance 
guy.  You're a busy woman."
	"And yet, here we are," she said, working to put the meat on the 
skewer.  "In the same place, at the same time, and not enough excuses 
if you ask me."
	"I've got one I can't ignore," Chris said with a little sigh.  
	"I'm not asking you to," Jess said kindly, placing the stick in 
the middle of the tiny fire-pit.  "It's a good thing to love.  Even 
better when the people you love are still alive and think of you 
often."
	She paused to poke the fire-gland at the bottom of the pit with 
her knife.  Fire quickly swelled out of the fleshy sack and consumed 
the fur, creating a gentle, rolling flicker that filled the air with a 
soft smoky smell.  Then, Jess walked over and sat next to Fiss, placing 
her hand on his.  
	"But it sounds like you're holding on to the past," she said 
quietly.  "I don't mind.  I have an old flame or two myself that I get 
a bit nostalgic about, and I'm not the kind of girl who figures I can 
help if it's seriously something you need to work through on your own."
	Chris groaned and stood, pulling his hand away.  "It's not fair 
that you're being so damn understanding about it.  It seems like every 
time I'm away...from her...I just..."
	"Start to wonder?" Jess offered. 
	"Yes, and no," Fiss corrected quickly.  "I'm just...maybe 
wondering how much of it is just old feelings that came with the sword 
and vest."
	Jess paused to turn the meat roasting over the warm orange glow 
near them.  "I can't pretend to know what that's like," she said, but 
shook her head.  "Is it that important?  Not to break the tradition?"
	"No," Fiss said quickly.  "Of course not.  Nothing to do with 
that.  It's just..."
	"Just?"
	"Just, when we got back from Eden the first time," he sighed.  "I 
figured everything was perfect.  I was sane again, my family was safe, 
and I was even an uncle.  My grandpa was alive, my friends all happy... 
and then..."
	"Things fell apart," Jess said.  
	"Yep," Fiss nodded.  "And at the centre of it all, she's having 
nightmares about me and I go off and kill a kid by accident."  He 
raised his left hand to the fire-light.  It was pale compared to his 
right hand, almost blending in with the white coat on his arm.  "Now, 
I'm just trying to get back to that point.  That point where everything 
was perfect."
	"It won't be the same," Jess said, looking up at him from the 
fire.  "Here, have some," she said, carefully lifting the stick from 
the fire and breaking it in two so there was some meat on each half.  
"You'll feel better."
	Chris took a careful bite of the meat.  It was still very hot, 
but after he blew on it for a moment he was able to enjoy it.  It had 
the texture of tender ham, but tasted like some kind of game bird with 
a spicy kick.  Jess had gotten her kebab cooled off enough as well, and 
they both let out appreciative sighs of enjoyment.  The tiny animal 
only gave them a few mouthfuls of meat to enjoy, but it was the first 
real meat they had eaten in days. 
	"That was amazing," Fiss said, finishing off his Cooker-Kebab by 
chewing on the stick thoughtfully.  "I thought they were only good as 
emergency lighters."
	"Thank you," Jess smiled.  The tiny fire flickered between them 
as Jess threw her stick in the fire to dispose of it.  "So?"
	Fiss leaned back against a tree trunk and looked up at the few 
stars he could see.  "I know what you're going to say."
	"Do you?" Jess grinned. 
	"Yeah, you're going to say something like I have two choices," 
Fiss said, raising two fingers to count off on.  "That I can keep 
chasing after this idea of perfection, instead of actually listening to 
my heart, all because of the ideal it seemed to be.  Or, I can live in 
the now for once and see what happens."
	"Actually, you're wrong," Jess said, leaning against him 
playfully.  "I figure that it's just as much my fault as it is yours if 
we did fall into a steamy, scandalous relationship.  We can't have you 
being the only one making decisions about us, so I was going to offer 
that I quit the nice and understanding girl role and start in on your 
pants."
	Chris froze as she reached up to cup his cheek, bringing their 
lips together.  She was tender.  Warm.  Every bit as enticing as she 
had been in the make-out lounge back at the banquet hall.  With no wine 
to smooth his mind, the entire kiss seemed more electric and real than 
the dream-like brief touch they had before.  
	She moved away for a moment, studying his eyes for a reaction.  
Surprise filled her own eyes as his arm came up around her back and 
pulled her close once more.  This time, he kissed back, and this time, 
that electricity sparked and rallied each of their senses.  
	Every bit of doubt and worry melted away in his mind as she 
pressed against him, arms pulling him closer as their mouths locked 
together and tongues reached for purchase.  Fiss' mind was now filled 
with a new perfect moment, directly connected to the gasp Jess made as 
they were forced to surface for air.  
	Then, suddenly, his senses were aching for her and not finding 
her.  He realized lazily that she's stood up over him, and had the most 
delicious smile on her face.  "I told you," she said, her voice full of 
something Fiss wished he could bottle and store for lonely rainy days.  
"I don't have to play nice."
	Fiss squeaked out an agreement as once more, her hands worked 
their magic on the buttons of her shirt, this time not stopping until 
just her collar was fastened shut.  From his vantage point on the 
ground, he had the most glorious view of her stomach and the swell of 
her bra under her shirt.  
	And with that, she took off back to the camp, laughing as Fiss 
charged after.  Christopher made up with speed what he lacked in grace, 
and it was only her head start that got Jesminder to the camp before he 
caught her up and suckled on her neck like a playful vampire.  She 
squealed in delight, and they both saw the surprised-but-grinning 
midnight guard nearby watching with badly hidden interest.  
	"Tent," Jess whispered, grabbing his hand and tugging them both 
into motion once more.  She slipped her hand away again, and made him 
chase her all the way back, daring only the quietest of giggles as they 
tumbled into trees and finally ricocheted through the zippered door.
	Jess gasped and tumbled into the tent as Chris slipped through 
behind her.  In one smooth motion, he dropped his sword to the side and 
slipped his coat away into ether.  Mimicking her actions before at the 
banquet, it was Fiss' turn to capture her on the ground and slowly 
crawl up over her.
	She playfully tried to push him away, but he caught her hands 
easily and pulled them above her head, effectively laying her out 
helpless as he caught her feet with his own.  
	Breathing hard, Jess was speechless as Chris leaned over her and 
took her with another deep, hard kiss.  She only whimpered as he let 
her go, completely at his mercy.  Her eyes were warm with desire, and 
she knew she couldn't fight back if she wanted to.  
	
	And then, everything screamed to a halt.

	Chris knelt there, over her, and felt something familiar, but 
wholly unwelcome slide up his spine.  His eyes snapped open wide with 
realization.  Jess' willing breath hitched and her eyes changed to 
concern.
	"What is it?" she whispered.  "Another waiter?"
	"Tambre," he said, shivering.  
	Jess' concern turned to anger.  "That's probably the last thing 
you should have said if you wanted to..."
	"No," Chris said, confused.  "The cherubs.  They...felt like 
this."
	Jess looked down at where their bodies were pressed together and 
a little grin creased her lips.  "Oh my..."
	Chris rolled off of her and shook his head.  "No...you don't 
understand," he said desperately.  "Cherubs aren't supposed to feel 
this.  Anything like this.  And they're not supposed to have the tools 
to do anything about it if they do."
	Settling on concern, Jess sat up next to him.  "What exactly are 
you saying?"
	He looked her in the eyes.  "Those monsters were after Tambre.  
Not to kill or capture.  They wanted to rape her," he said, shuddering.  
"Oh God...It was saying conquest.  It all makes sense now..."
	Jess quickly did up her shirt as Fiss slid his sword back on his 
belt.  They opened the tent and ran ten feet, only to see that Tambre 
was already there, tears in her eyes and waiting for them.  
	"Tambre?" Jess asked.  "What's going on?"
	"I-" she stammered, "I needed to ask something of Lord Fiss, and 
I just assumed...he wasn't there, so I thought maybe...and I came here, 
but then I heard..."
	Chris walked up and held her gently.  "It's okay.  Calm down."
	"Your boon, Lord Fiss..." she said, tears tracing lines down her 
cheeks.  "I was going to tell you..."
	"I'm right, aren't I?" Fiss said softly, walking up to her.  
"Those things have you pegged as some kind of mate, don't they?  They 
want to come and take you."
	"Again," Tambre said quietly.  
	Fiss and Jess' eyes were wide as the woman in the wedding gown 
reached down to her stomach.  Jess had to look away, feeling a cold 
twisting in her gut.
	"I just found out tonight," the girl said, shaking.  

	"Something's inside of me."











Keep Going
 Chapter 12











	"You're shitting me," Makoto decided, arms crossed in front of 
her chest.  "You've got to be shitting me."
	"I shit you not," Andrea sighed, grinding her fingers into her 
temples in an attempt to stay awake and alert as she stared into the 
computer screen.  "We're just waiting for Maury's next communication.  
If he's going to propose peace we all need to be on board for this."
	Hooze, Demeter and Kirk sat around the screen, while on the other 
side of the ocean, all the Sailor Senshi were gathered, including the 
new King and Queen.  They all looked refreshed and alert, and for once, 
Usagi wasn't interrupting everyone, listening to her court before 
making any decisions.  
	"Dave's going back to meet with him if he can," Hooze continued 
after a pause.  "We're treading a very thin line between all-out war 
and peace, though.  I need to know that, if the time comes, we're going 
to offer a united front for the Negaverse to deal with.  I still don't 
know all the reasons why Maury stopped, but I do know that if he 
didn't, there's a chance a retaliatory strike would be headed to Earth 
right now.  The Web says they aren't picking up anything.  So far, the 
Negaverse is ignoring Earth."
	"Which," Ami interjected, "is something we should try to maintain 
now that we are sure the people of Sol are safe."
	"So?" Makoto asked, angrily.  "We just hand them the peace-pipe 
after they've killed thousands of people?"
	"If it saves billions," Demeter said quietly, "then we're willing 
to let go of some personal opinions regarding the ancient days."
	"You never had to fight them from the beginning," Rei said 
cautiously.  "Now they totally eclipse us in technology, and are still 
very formidable in the magic arts.  If they get a foot-hold in our 
system, who's to say they won't just keep snapping up planets once they 
rebuild their fleet?"
	"I believe the whole point is that they already have that foot-
hold," Ami said.  "Peace would at least give us the chance to flesh out 
other options for defence."
	"Or we wipe out their fleet and have the next hundred years as 
they rebuild to flesh out other options," Makoto frowned.  "Andrea, 
come on, you know Maury hits his head on things all the time.  Maybe he 
just bumped it once too many."
	Hooze laughed despite her fatigue and worry.
	"We do have the chance to perform a strike," Demeter said.  
"Montana is willing to lend us five ICBMs that we can outfit with a 
Theban pattern to survive the journey to the sun.  That's not counting 
on the Omega Web's involvement, in which we could send at least ten of 
their fighter craft if we convince them an all-out attack is 
necessary."
	"The negative of both attacks is the loss of Prince Destiny," 
Usagi said.  "Maybe the souls on the Sol Platform as well."
	Jupiter turned to the queen.  "I'm not losing that boy.  If we 
launch, I want to be there first so I can get him away."
	"I'd like not to lose anyone," she smiled back, calming her 
friend.  Then, she turned to Andrea through the screen.  "Very well.  
We'll await Prince Destiny's next transmission and the Omega Web's 
update.  For the moment, all of the Sailor Senshi will operate under a 
flag of truce if encountering any Negaverse activity, and we will do 
our best not to advertise our whereabouts.  
	"Also, Andrea," Usagi said, clearing her throat, "while we can't 
abandon our stance on political isolation while Ontario and Crystal 
Canada are at war, this is a larger threat and each of the Canadian 
Senshi are welcome on our soil to discuss or act on matters regarding 
the Negaverse.  Luna and Artemis will make the arrangements."
	"Thank you, Usagi," Hooze smiled. 
	The young queen nodded.  "We'll have another meeting after the 
next transmission.  Let us know if you need anything. 
	The screen turned black, then changed into an aerial photo of the 
city.  Demeter smiled.  "I'll tell the governor thank you, but we won't 
need any nuclear..."
	"Not just yet," Hooze said with a yawn.  "In case Dave gets an 
answer we all don't like."
	Demeter nodded, letting out a little sigh as they turned off the 
lights and went back to bed.  










	"Do you ever think about the future?"
	Setsuna glared at SkitZ as he brought her a glass of water.  
"You're kidding, right?"
	He grinned toothily and flopped down next to her on the pile of 
blankets they had created from the afternoon's activities.  They were 
now propped up against the living room sofa, watching a thunderstorm 
outside the grand crystal windows.  
	"Yes," she smirked at him, taking a drink.  "I do think about the 
future.  And the past.  And several different futures.  And," she added 
after a moment, "all the gateways and doors between."
	"But what about you?" Michael said.  
	"Not us?" she asked with a measured smile. 
	Michael snaked his arm around her waist as they sat.  "I'm not 
worried about us.  What about you?  Did you want to do this forever?"
	"Do what?" she blinked, looking past a few stray hairs falling 
down over her eyes.
	"I've been a Knight for over four hundred years," Michael said, 
reaching past her into his floor-bound pants pocket to retrieve a 
cigarette.  While he couldn't smoke in the palace (her rules), he 
chewed on the end thoughtfully.  "And I'm a Knight from the tips of my 
wings to the tip of my wang, but I keep looking at Gabriel, and wonder 
if I'll be doing this same thing forever like she's doing."
	Lightning streaked the sky, though the thunder was quiet through 
the walls.  
	"You strike me as a man who can get bored doing his job no matter 
how exciting it is," Setsuna said, snuggling up against him.  "You've 
been a Knight, ruling your House for centuries, but in the year I've 
known you, I've seen you become a detective, an actor, a wizard and 
even a diplomat.  Hardly a boring job."
	Michael raised an eyebrow.  "Maybe you're right," he said.
	"As for being a Senshi," she said sagely, watching the rain slide 
down the angled windows, "it's close enough to real life that most of 
us aren't wanting for anything.  Excitement, danger, it all comes with 
the skirt or suit."
	"But," Michael pressed.  "What about you?"
	"I'm a Senshi," she said quickly. 
	"Who hasn't existed in time for millennium," Michael chuckled.  
"Not exactly the most exciting job, if you ask me."
	"It's exciting enough," she sighed.  "I get to train each new 
generation as they come for as long as they come.  It's not really that 
boring.  Maybe when I go back, it will be boring at first, but once 
you're there time isn't that big of an issue."
	SkitZ nodded, looking slightly depressed at the thought.  "So, 
you get to watch the rug rats run around and cause trouble, basically.  
Try to help them out when they get too deep into the shit."
	"Basically," she smiled softly, then frowned when he nodded.  
"Why are you asking me this anyway?  You run a House.  I doubt you'll 
need to hurry on that RRSP." 
	"Gabe wants to set me up as the next Knight Trainer," Michael 
said.  "She says she's too old.  Cass is too aloof and Uriel is too 
crazy.  We have three Houses without Knights, and the Word dictates 
that a new House be set up to replace Azrael's within seven years of 
the previous one falling."
	"Congratulations!" Setsuna smiled, kissing him on the cheek.  
When she saw no smile on his face, though, she sighed.  "You don't want 
it?"
	"I've died, baby," Michael said, taking the cigarette out of his 
mouth as he stared at the storm outside.  "I should have been dead a 
hundred times before, but I can still see the nuke that I should have 
been stopping, and that little..." his anger dissipated quickly.  "When 
a friend takes your death, a death you knew it was time for...well, 
it's bloody hard.  A lot of people react different ways, but nobody 
with any brains or soul treats their life lightly after that."
	She sighed and leaned against his chest.
	"You know what I mean, don't you?" SkitZ offered.  "You've seen 
it happen probably more times than I have.  And that's why I'm having 
trouble seeing myself settle down and..." he smirked.  "Become a school 
teacher."
	"Good morning, Mister SkitZ," Sharon said cutely, imitating a 
class of grade-schoolers greeting their teacher. 
	"That ain't funny," Michael glared. 
	"Yes, it is," Sharon grinned back.  "And I happen to think you'd 
make a great teacher.  You'd certainly break the mould...and some kids.  
But the ones that came out okay would change the world."
	"But I want to change the world," SkitZ said angrily.  "I want to 
make things change.  Everyone always says their kids will change 
things, or it will be a better world tomorrow, but nobody ever fucking 
does anything about it because everyone is thinking they'll have time 
tomorrow."
	Setsuna sighed.  She could see he was right, at least partially.  
	"Just...I came into this life ripping devil wings off and 
traveling through the universes.  I'm scared as all hell that I'll go 
out teaching little brats the fucking Wing Song," Michael said, then 
shook his head quickly when curiosity sneaked into her eyes.  "No, I'm 
NOT saying it out loud.  Ask Fiss."
	"But if you go and get yourself stabbed by the next lucky sword," 
Setsuna said, "that's better than spending the end of your life giving 
the gifts you've learned to others?"
	"Yes," Michael said quickly, then felt stupid because of it.  "I 
mean, maybe.  I don't know."
	Setsuna sat up and moved between him and the window, blocking his 
view of the storm outside.  Her eyes were just as fierce, though, and 
Michael remembered why he had such an irresistible pull to the woman.  
"If you die without giving something to that next generation, then you 
rob them of any chance to avoid your mistakes.  The ones everyone 
correctly assumes repeat for all time."
	Michael leaned back, but said nothing.  She was passionate about 
this, he could tell.  
	"I know it's not as exciting as going around killing monsters and 
saving the world from evil," she said, a small regretful sigh escaping 
her lips.  "But there's nothing worse than watching the same exciting 
battle happen again and again with no change other than what kinds of 
swords are used, or who has the bigger bullets or the fastest missiles 
or the deadliest spells."
	Unexpectedly, she leaned forward and kissed him gently.  SkitZ 
blinked, not expecting it.  
	"You've done incredible things and seen more than I can imagine.  
I won't pretend you're one of the younger Senshi and belittle your 
experience simply because I am older by a millennium.  Time does not 
make me wise, and it does not make you naive," Setsuna said softly. 
"However, the one gift of wisdom I can bestow to you, my dear Michael 
SkitZ," she said, eyes shimmering against the storm outside, "is to 
give what you know to others."
	Michael watched her, speechless as she spoke, tears threatening 
in her eyes, even as they shone with the conviction in her words.    
	"This simple act surpasses all the good you have done and the 
evils you have silenced," she said.  "It is the greatest thing, because 
when you share, you invite others to do their own great things and add 
to them with each act of courage and love they do."
	She was silent for a long time, then realized with a bit of 
embarrassment she was crying.  She moved to wipe her tears away, but 
Michael stopped her.  
	"Sure you don't want the job?" he offered quietly with a smile. 
"You're a lot better at it than I am." 
	Setsuna smiled, shaking her head.  "No, thank you."
	Michael gently wiped a tear off her cheek and sighed.  "Then I 
guess I'm stuck with it."
	She laughed and hugged him tightly.  "You'll do fine."
	"That's what I'm scared of," Michael chuckled.  "Fine is such a 
low standard."











Chapter 13











	"I told you not to over-do it," Amon hissed, closing and locking 
the door behind the ragged looking older man.  "What the fuck did you 
do to yourself?"
	Harvey waved the demon off with a quick hand.  "It doesn't 
matter," he said.  "It just means I have to hurry a bit more.  What did 
you find?"
	Amon had seen his share of beatings in the Pits.  Usually, as 
souls didn't retain injuries, it never got as bad as Harvey looked.  A 
huge, pus-filled bruise was on the side of his head from his temple to 
his jaw, and his right arm hung in a bloody sling badly concealed under 
a coat that looked like it had been in a car accident itself.  His 
stomach was wrapped up with layers and layers of barely-dry bandages as 
his body had refused to heal the damage beyond some blood clotting.  
	"Yeah, I found out quite a bit," Amon frowned, leading them to 
the back of the store, hidden behind shelves and boxes of old comics 
and books.  "Holy swords," he said suddenly.  "How the fuck did you get 
cut with a holy sword?  Were you out assaulting the fucking Pope or 
something?"
	"They weren't holy," Harvey said angrily.  "That brat's friends 
found me and they had some shitty Lord of the Rings replicas or 
something.  Don't know how.  I've been living in an attic somewhere 
ever since.  The moment I touch pavement they seem to know where I am, 
so don't start acting like my mom saying I'm not taking it easy."
	Amon relaxed slightly.  "Maybe not holy, but that's angel magic.  
I'll have to get some more chicken blood I suppose..." he mumbled to 
himself.  
	"Amon, please," Harvey said angrily.  "The information?"
	The demon nodded and reached over to the nearest shelf to pull 
down a massive, dusty book.  It slammed onto the table with a 
resounding echo, and Amon opened it up to a page half way through.  
Instead of a page filled with writing, the light warped inside the book 
and created a strange effect, like he was looking into an impossibly 
deep hole.  
	Amon reached in, up to his elbow, and his hand returned with a 
Ziploc bag filled with documents.  He tossed the book back on the shelf 
and opened up the bag, pulling out pages and pages of information.  
	"Why did you store it in there?" Harvey asked, unable to quash 
his curiosity.  
	"Protects from Scrying," Amon said.  "I don't know how good these 
Human Mages are yet, so I'm being careful until more of my kind get 
here and fuck up first so I don't have to," he chuckled.  
	Harvey pretended to know what Amon was talking about and nodded.  
	"So, you need this now, do you?" the demon said.  
	"Look at me," Harvey nodded.  "I'm not going to last much longer 
like this."
	"Well, we can't have that," Amon smirked.  "You're an investment 
in the future, after all."  He pressed a piece of paper towards Harvey.  
"I was wondering why this was moved.  Looks like whatever damage you 
did to those 'brat's friends' was enough to put them in the hospital.  
They're still in Calgary, but Ian won't be back until they go to this 
training session."
	"So what, I break in and there they are?" Harvey asked. 
	Amon raised his eyebrow.  "Break in?  No.  I highly recommend 
against that.  My sources tell me that this place has about twenty 
times the security of the mage prison they have set up in Red Deer."
	"What is it?" 
	"I don't know," Amon shrugged, pulling out a Google Maps 
printout.  Everything for twenty miles around a dusty old farm-road 
East of Calgary was painted black with "This image unavailable due to 
security considerations" printed in block letters.  "I would 
recommend," Amon continued, "that you strike during their arrival or 
departure.  Probably their departure, as you won't have eighty armed 
guards out looking for them if they arrive safely."
	Harvey looked at the maps greedily, then stuffed them into his 
pocket with his good arm.  "Right.  Tuesday.  That will be great.  
Thanks."
	Amon nodded.  "They'll hunt you like a dog afterwards, you know.  
If you leave them alive or not, they won't care.  I've had a dozen of 
those Righteous Voice assholes come through here looking for a hiding 
place, and I've refused because I don't deal with hunted men."
	"But you're dealing with me," Harvey grinned. 
	"You're not hunted," Amon shrugged. "Not yet, anyway.  For now, 
you're like I said.  A driven man with a purpose.  But what about 
after?" he mused, as he passed Harvey more papers and notes.
	"I only need a little more time," Harvey said cryptically.  "If I 
can master this gift, I won't need anything anymore.  I can feel it.  
Maybe I'll be able to stop it from killing me.  Maybe I'll just...I 
don't know."  He laughed suddenly.  "Maybe I'll just become a god."
	Amon stood at that.  "It's not as pleasant as it sounds on 
paper," he said, following Harvey out.  "I don't think you could handle 
it."
	"And you could?" Harvey said with a frown. 
	"Maybe," Amon grinned back, showing his sharp teeth.
 	As they neared the door, Harvey slowed.  "One more thing..."
	Amon frowned.  "You burnt through the cigars, didn't you?"
	"I have a half left, but..."
	"But you got beat up so you need something all the time," Amon 
guessed, and Harvey nodded.  Amon sighed and passed him another cigar 
from his pocket.  "These are rare.  Hard to make, and hard to dispose 
of the evidence.  Make it last."
	Harvey nodded sheepishly, and then walked out into the rain with 
his double treasure of information and painkillers.  
	Amon leaned out of the reinforced glass door and spat on the 
ground.  "They can't all be good investments," he growled, then locked 
the door as he went back inside.  











	Thomas opened the door quietly, clothed in his Spiderman pyjamas 
and floppy dog-head slippers.  He was glad now that his Mom and Dad 
didn't get him the slippers that squeaked when he walked, or he 
wouldn't have been able to sneak past their room as they slept.  
	The garage was usually locked, but his Dad had gotten home late, 
and Thomas had seen that in his rush indoors for supper, the garage 
door had been forgotten.  He pulled out his only weapon, a small 
Scooby-Doo flashlight, and turned it on as the darkness opened up for 
him inside.  
	Candy-apple red metal shone in the tiny light, and the beam began 
to shake as Thomas shivered in the cool air.  "Frank?" he whispered as 
quietly as he could.  
	Frank didn't respond.  Thomas breathed a silent sigh of relief.  
"Frank is asleep," he told himself quietly.  "Now's my chance!"
	Using the flashlight to guide his steps, he found his way around 
pieces of junk and tools on the ground until he reached the workbench 
and scurried up onto the high chair, nearly tipping it over a number of 
times.  
	"Mmm," Frank said between snores, pretending to sleep.  "I love 
dreaming of dinner.  Little boys' legs.  Maybe a hand to start.  But 
never eat little boy eyes until after...they're dessert!"
	Thomas froze, turning off his flashlight until he heard only 
snoring.  He slowly eased himself up in the seat, sitting on his knees.  
Then, not risking to turn on the light just yet, he began to feel 
around clumsily for the starter motor.  It was warm to the touch, and 
he could almost hear the faintest of heartbeats coming from the metal.  
	"I hope that Thomas has been practicing running," Frank whispered 
in his 'sleep'.  "His legs will taste better if he can run fast.  Not 
so fatty or stringy then, like little boys who just sit and get chopped 
up right away.  And chasing them is so much more fun if they think they 
can escape!  Ha ha ha!"
 	Thomas was shaking as he pulled the motor closer for inspection.  
The entire thing was whole, like it had never been damaged.  He found 
the screwdriver next to it, and then pulled out a small bag from his 
pyjama pocket that he had filled with rocks from the driveway, and a 
bottle of white glue that he had stolen from school.  
	"Oh, you are a bad boy!" Frank chided.  "Stealing from Missus 
Applebee.  You should let me eat you now so you don't have to go back 
to school and get caught!"
	"I never!" Thomas gasped, clasping his hands over his mouth.
	Frank just chuckled, filling the garage with an echo.  
	Realizing his plan for stealth had failed, Thomas reached up and 
turned on the desk lamp, squinting as harsh florescent light flooded 
the desk and the area around him.  
	"Would you like to be a midnight snack?" Frank offered.  "I may 
just want to eat one of your legs tonight.  Plenty of time to say 
goodbye to your Mom and Dad tomorrow before I eat the rest of you with 
my shiny teeth."
	"You aren't going to eat me," Thomas said, mustering his courage.  
"I'm going to kill you tonight so you can't eat me!"  He grabbed the 
screw driver and began to work on the outer shell of the motor.  
	"You can't kill me, Thomas," Frank said, laughter still in his 
voice.  "If you put rocks in my heart, Dad will be mad at you, and make 
you open it back up so he can clean it."
	"I brought glue!" Thomas grinned, confidence returning.  "That 
way you will be stuck with rocks in your heart."
	"But only for a while," Frank laughed, throwing doubt into 
Thomas' plans.  "You can't put rocks deep inside my heart, so I will 
always be alive.  Even when you threw my heart at the wall and made it 
break, it was only the outside parts.  You cannot kill the inside parts 
of my heart, so you cannot kill me."
	"I can!" Thomas shook with fear, finally freeing the last screw 
and opening the side. 
	The motor was complex and shiny with copper wire.  It was wrapped 
around in tight bunches, forming an impossibly confusing puzzle that 
had no screws to unscrew.  
	"Go ahead," Frank laughed.  "Try.  See if you can open up the 
inside.  You can't.  Little boys cannot open up my heart.  They can 
only open up my stomach when I eat them!  Ha ha ha!"
	Thomas' plan to fill the motor with rocks suddenly seemed 
hopeless as he saw the unyielding coil of coarse wires.  Even when he 
tried jamming the end of his screwdriver into the core, the wires 
didn't budge.  He gasped at how difficult it was to pull the tool free 
after when it got lodged between them.  
	"Maybe if you let me eat a bit off of your fingers," Frank 
offered helpfully, "they would be small enough to reach in and try to 
kill me."
	"No!" Thomas said, clutching his hands and dropping the starter. 
	"Just trying to help, Thomas," Frank laughed.  "I bet they don't 
taste as good as your legs, anyway."
	"You're a bad car!" Thomas cried, shaking as he unwrapped the 
rocks.  "You're just trying to trick me!  I'll put rocks in your heart 
and glue them there so you can't ever, never be fixed and eat me!"
	Frank just laughed as Thomas emptied the stones into the open 
spaces around the core of the motor, then started spraying glue 
everywhere inside.  He was sobbing in fright, but managed his shaky 
hands to pick up the casing side and the screws.
	"Your Mom and Dad won't love you anymore if you break me, 
Thomas," Frank said in a little sing-song voice.  "In fact, they'll 
probably chop you up into little pieces for me to eat you.  Then, 
they'll tell Missus Applebee what a horrible boy you were and that you 
were a thief, and they'll let her eat your nose as payment for the 
glue!"
	"NO!"
	Lights exploded around him, and his father slammed open the door.  
"Thomas!" he bellowed in the way only angry fathers can.  

	"What are you doing?!"
	
	Reality rushed in around him and he gagged on the fear in his 
throat.  The sound of his heart monitor beeping rapidly reminded him 
where he was long before a nurse rushed in to check on him.  
	"Mister MacDonnell?" the young man asked, glancing at his 
monitor.  "Are you alright?"
	"Nightmare," Thomas groaned, feeling his heart finally slowing 
down.  
	The nurse gave an appreciative chuckle.  "My kid does that every 
once in a while.  Had to start making sure her teddy bears weren't 
facing her at night, or she'd have dreams they were going to eat her."
	Thomas grinned.  "Teddy bears, huh?  That would be nice.  Not as 
many moving parts."
	"Uhm, sure..."
	"Nevermind."
	Out of the three of them, Thomas had been the luckiest.  He had 
suffered only minor injuries to his jaw and tongue, and could still 
feel the single stitch they'd put in his mouth.   
	Since Barlow and Beast had suffered more of the mage's harmful 
magic, they were under closer observation.  Beast would have lost his 
lung had Ian not been called to come in for an emergency healing 
session, and Barlow was still shaky even a week later.  
	Thomas walked past each of their rooms quietly after the nurse 
had checked his vitals and reported he was clear to walk about the 
hospital.  Ian was sleeping soundly on a bed next to Beast, determined 
to watch over the man in case his lung developed any problems.  Beast, 
for the most part, was quite calm, and smiled as Thomas walked by 
before returning his attention to a novel.
	Barlow was snoring loudly in the next room, earning giggles from 
an aide who was quietly cleaning up all the equipment they had been 
using on him over the last few days.  They were all clear to leave 
tomorrow for training, but it had been a very real reminder how close 
they each had come to dying in the encounter.  
	Miharu had only called once in a while to ensure everything was 
going well.  She asked if he needed help or the team could use anything 
additional in the way of equipment but little beyond that.  While she 
never said anything about the injuries or tactics, he could tell she 
was worried that she had thrown them all up against something too large 
for them to handle.  
	When Barlow and Beast had been able to talk, Thomas had talked 
with them.  Neither wanted to give up, and even Beast was focusing on 
strategy for their next battle instead of backing down.  Finding and 
stopping this man became their first real-world test, and each of them 
understood the importance of it.
	Miharu did send him an e-mail, however, describing her fight with 
a similar mage a few years back.  "You're on the right track," she 
said.  "Speed is the only guaranteed advantage you'll have.  Try 
different materials for cover, though.  Organics or complicated 
materials seem best.  Your sword can be used for cover if you're quick 
enough.  Don't worry...he can't break it."
	
	With sleep abandoned, he decided to go back to the scene of the 
crime.  Feeling fit enough to jog, his journey from the hospital to the 
Trigs' house a dozen blocks away was just enough to get his heart 
pumping and wake him up the rest of the way from the nightmare.  It was 
almost six in the morning when he got there and was let inside by the 
undercover cop stationed in a nearby car.  
	The front wall of the house was still warped from Barlow's magic, 
and temporary metal supports had been installed to prevent the rest of 
the wall from collapsing.  Tom had to watch his step as he moved around 
the damaged floorboards and jagged debris.
	Turning his attentions to the rest of the house, he found where 
Mrs Trigs had been attacked and tied up.  A small patch of carpet was 
stained from her blood, but the wound hadn't been enough to endanger 
her life.  The doctors said she would be fit for release a few days 
from now.  She planned to stay in police care until Harvey was caught.  
Nobody objected.  
	Thomas could imagine Harvey running through the house, looking 
for valuables.  Tossed cupboards and hastily thrown furniture were 
evident where he had searched for hidden jewellery boxes or money, but 
the police report indicated that the bulk of his ill-gotten gains were 
from the safe downstairs.  Thomas walked down the steps and found the 
den nearly intact except for a ripped painting on the wall and some 
floorboards poking down from Barlow's handiwork upstairs.
	The safe was empty, having had only enough space for the 
emergency cash.  Thomas sighed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary 
beyond the pins and screws that had been removed from the lock.  More 
Undone magic.
	It was then that he smelled something strange in the air, 
lingering at the corners of the room.  It wasn't entirely unpleasant 
like ancient cigarette smoke, but it reminded him of something similar.  
The police reported that neither of the Trigs had a smoking habit, and 
there were no ashtrays here.  Thomas began looking around the only 
really comfortable chair in the room, and soon found the tip of a cigar 
stuffed in the seat cushion crack.  He picked it up and gave it a 
testing sniff.  His head spun briefly and he dropped it in surprise.  
It was not regular tobacco, that was for sure, but it didn't smell like 
anything else (admittedly, an impressive catalogue) that he knew of.  
	As he bent down to pick it up again, he noticed another piece of 
evidence.  A matchbook with a curious devil-horned logo on it. "A comic 
store?" he muttered to himself.  "Why would a comic book store need 
matches?"











	Amon sighed as he heard the door buzzer ring.  "Always when I'm 
cooking," he grumbled, throwing the huge meat cleaver down onto the 
cutting board, where it stuck in firmly between the legs of a small 
animal.  
	The chihuahua had never looked so happy as when Amon stepped away 
from the countertop.  Piles of potatoes and vegetables were already 
cooking in the large copper pot on the stove next to them.   
	Grabbing his sunglasses and coat, Amon turned to the dog and 
grinned.  "Stay."
	Whimpering, the dog tried to nuzzle its way free of the cutting 
board, but the twine was too tight for him to escape.  Amon turned off 
the lights, and just before he shut the door, whispered:  "Yo quiero 
Taco Bell!"
	His mood substantially lifted from the look on the chihuahua's 
face, Amon walked through the hidden halls he had created under the 
store and up through a trap door.  He saw someone standing outside his 
store's window.  "It's that mage again," he sighed.  "What the hell 
does he want?"
	As he got closer, however, his anger turned to confusion.  
Instead of the ragged, half-dead Harvey, there stood a man in a jogging 
suit with a large sword strapped to his waist.  
	"Curiouser and fucking curiouser..." he said to himself as the 
man noticed him and produced a badge.  He put on a false smile and 
walked over to unlock the door.  "Can I help you, officer?  I'm afraid 
we're not open to the public for another few hours."
	"Uhm," Thomas cleared his throat.  "I'm sorry to bother you this 
early in the morning, sir, but I'm conducting an investigation for the 
Crystal Canada Missionaries Project.  May I come in?"
	Amon shrugged and opened the door wider.  "Knock yourself out."
	Thomas attempted to take a step forward, when his hip nearly 
twisted out from under him.  His sword would not pass the perimeter of 
the door, and seemed stuck on an invisible wall.  Amon grinned as 
Thomas struggled with it.  "So they are Knight swords," he whispered to 
himself, then silently chanted under his breath.  
	A second later, Thomas stumbled forward, his sword passing 
through the door without any issues.  "What the hell?" the Missionary 
asked, turning to Amon with wide eyes.  
	"You had your sword stuck on the door jamb," Amon said smoothly.  
"It's a bit narrow I guess.  People try to bring in umbrellas and 
stuff.  I see it all the time."
	Thomas looked confused, but nodded, accepting the explanation.  
"Oh, okay, sorry about that."
	"No problem," Amon said, walking over to behind his counter.  "So 
what can I do for the Missionaries Project on this blessed day, 
mister...uh..." 
	"Thomas,"
	"Nice to meet you," the demon smiled graciously.  "Amon.  Owner 
and operator."
	"That's an interesting name."
	Amon smirked.  "Just the tip of the iceberg."
	"I was wondering," Thomas said, looking around at the comics and 
books.  "I found this at a crime scene the other day," he said, pulling 
out the book of matches from his pocket.  "Do you sell cigarettes or 
anything like that here?"
	"Of course not," Amon said, acting hurt by the accusation.  
"Children frequent my establishment.  I sell nothing that could harm 
them," he chuckled.  "Unless you consider comics to rot their brains, 
but that's an opinion I find is common among those who haven't read the 
right ones."
	"Ahh, I see," Thomas smiled, but then raised an eyebrow.  "So why 
does this have your logo on it?"
	"Promotional materials," Amon said with a bored wave of his hand.  
"Some of the Wiccan kids order candles and stuff through me, so I keep 
some handy to give out to the older ones."
	"Remember giving one out to any older men?  Kinda scruffy?  Maybe 
named Harvey?"
	Amon shrugged his shoulders.  "Doesn't ring a bell."
	"Ahh," Thomas said.  "Why are you here so early, anyway?"
	"I'm a WoW addict," Amon grinned.  "I figure why not use the fat 
bandwidth when customers aren't?" he motioned to the far wall were a 
trio of gaming computers were set up.
	Thomas nodded, seemingly defeated.  "Alright.  Well, I guess 
that's about it.  I should get going then.  Sorry for wasting your 
time."
	Amon walked with him to the front door.  "Not at all, and just so 
you know, I offer a law enforcement discount here if you'd like to come 
back around for pleasure instead of business."
	"Oh?  Thanks, I might," Thomas smiled.  
	"Yeah, you strike me as a Frank Miller fan," Amon suggested.  
"See you around."
	Thomas stepped out of the shop and Amon locked the door once 
more, watching the Missionary wander off slowly, as if contemplating 
what to do next.  Amon stepped back into the shadows of his shop, a 
little grin stuck on his mouth as he snapped his fingers and restored 
the magic protections around his abode.
	"Very interesting," he chuckled.  "Ahh, and now, time for 
breakfast burritos."  He slid back underground, pulled off his 
sunglasses and moved his hand through his hair, exposing two points of 
bone.  Blue vapour pooled out of his empty eye sockets as he walked 
back to the kitchen where he could hear muffled whimpering.
	"It's going to be a wicked day."











Chapter 14











	The City of Fiss moved quicker through the forest now as it began 
to thin out into a rockier landscape.  They performed another gate 
spell blindly, and a scout was lost when they were attacked by hungry 
dominions.  A brief battle with the creatures gained them purchase next 
to another lake.  Fiss closed the siege gate the same way as before, 
sparking rumours and whispers among the mages of the camp.  
	Everyone was exhausted, but complaints were few as water skins 
were filled.  Nobody complained because they saw how serious the 
Archangels had become.  They were facing people willing to twist the 
Word.  Even the lowliest peasant in the group understood what that 
meant.  They would be spared no mercy, nor horror.  At least when 
Houses fought, they spared the innocent people, more or less. 
	To prepare for the next jump, Battra and a few other mages were 
the only ones who rested.  Fiss shared his dwindling Jolt supply as 
needed, earning more rumours about the 'magic elixirs' he carried.  It 
would have been fun, but he couldn't escape the creeping feeling in his 
wings, as if they had already been found and Eden's Will was ready for 
them.  
	Figuring that Tambre would be the most likely source of tracking, 
Fiss and Nathan guarded her in a spare tent in the middle of the camp.  
Jess and Jean had taken the first shift watching over her, but were now 
sleeping soundly along the far wall.  
	Nathan read Michael's report with interest as Fiss cleaned his 
sword free from the crusty Aszap gore that didn't seem to wash off as 
easily as normal blood.
	"M-rash?" Nathan frowned.  "Why doesn't this name have Bikko 
attached to it?" he asked, pointing to the mention of the special 
projects head.
	"It's pronounced 'Mare-eesh', and I'm not sure," Fiss shrugged.  
"Some angels go freelance.  It would certainly explain why she never 
returned to Gabriel when she got what she wanted."
	"Mmm," Nathan nodded, continuing through the list.  "Says three 
of her five assistants were defectors from the House of Fiss.  Maybe we 
can ask around?"
	"Once we have a chance," Fiss nodded.
	"Former Stress Information Specialist?" Nathan asked, pointing to 
a name on the PDA.  "What's that?"
	Fiss smirked darkly.  "Torture expert."
	"Ahh.  Oh," Nathan's eyes went wide.  "Why would anyone put 
together a team like that?"
	"Pardon?"
	"Three defectors, a torture expert and a wild game hunter?" 
Nathan raised his eyebrow.  "Most of these people we don't actually 
have names for, and this Marish chick is only twenty?  How old was she 
when she kidnapped those Aszaps?"
	Chris sighed, scrubbing some gunk out of his scabbard with a 
small wire brush.  "I don't know.  Maybe they said: the Word is only 
allowing us to fight honourable and equal wars.  Let's throw a bunch of 
crazy people together and see what kind of cool weapons they make!"
	Nathan raised an eyebrow.  "I'm frightened by the probability of 
that statement being uttered verbatim by these morons."
	"Me too," Fiss sighed. 
	"Ahh," Nathan tossed the PDA back to Fiss.  "None of this will 
help anyway.  Not until we get back to the City of SkitZ.  All this 
means is we have to suspect young women in the group who look like mad 
scientists."
	"No," Tambre whispered suddenly.  
	Fiss and Nathan both jumped.  "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," 
Nathan said sheepishly.  
	"You didn't," Tambre smiled softly, sitting up with a wince.  "I 
just wanted to say that I haven't seen Marish ever since I escaped.  I 
don't believe I've seen her or any of her comrades since."
	Fiss turned to Nathan, who nodded and went to get water for their 
guest.  "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."
	"I want to tell you," Tambre said sadly.  "I have only a few days 
left."
	"What do you mean?" Fiss frowned.  "You look fine."
	"Kind of you to say," Tambre smiled, but again, winced as she 
shifted on the blankets under her.  "But it is true.  I was only one of 
their captives, and I know the cycle well from watching what happened 
to them."
	"But you aren't sure," Fiss insisted.  "You would have told us 
sooner, right?"
	She nodded, but sighed.  "I wasn't sure.  It's...somewhat 
difficult for the cherubs.  Not in their nature at all.  I had been 
hoping that, like most times, it hadn't taken hold.  But I asked a 
hedge mage to check and she agreed I was with child."	
	"Could it be from before you were kidnapped?" Fiss asked. 
	Tambre's smile faded slowly, and tears began to well up in her 
eyes.  "No.  I had never been with anyone."
	Fiss slipped his sword into its sheath quietly.  "I see," he 
said, feeling cold all over.  
	"I was fortunate, though," she said softly.  "I had at least 
blossomed to a point where it was not physically...dangerous to 
attempt.  There were other girls.  Girls," she whispered, mostly to 
herself.  "They had no concept of what they were doing.  Marish and her 
team...they just let it happen."
	Fiss had a flash of a horrible mental image.  Miharu, chained 
down with one of those...monsters...
	"Don't, please," Tambre said, grabbing his arm.  "Don't imagine.  
I can see you are."
	"How long, then?  And what happens when it happens?" Fiss asked 
quietly.  Her stomach was still flat, but the way she carried herself 
had changed in the week since she joined them.  
	"Another week.  Maybe two," Tambre said softly.  "They are 
impatient, though, and come through the stomach when they are born.  If 
we are unable to find a way to stop it, I would like you to kill me 
before that happens.  I've had enough pain."
	Fiss looked reluctant, so she grabbed his arm and pressed it to 
her stomach.  
	"You have defeated them before my very eyes, my Knight," she 
said, suddenly very confidently.  "I have suffered this abomination, 
and will continue to suffer it in hopes to see your home.  But if I 
cannot, you must understand that they are fully capable of killing 
within moments of being born.  You must kill me and it the moment it 
uses its claws."
	Just touching where the thing was growing made Fiss' wings ruffle 
angrily.  "I will," he said, now without hesitation.  "You have my 
word."
	Tambre relaxed and let his hand go.  "Thank you.  If I can, I 
will help all I can before it happens.  I owe you many boons now, Lord 
Fiss."
	Fiss sighed, then nodded.  "Can I ask you to fulfill one now?"
	She nodded, eyebrows raised.  "There are others present," she 
warned. 
	"No!  Not more cleaving!  God, please, can you just..." he 
blinked as she began laughing.  "You were joking," he said, feeling 
like a moron. 
	"Yes, my Lord," she giggled.  "I am sorry."
	"Then you can repay me at least by never, ever calling me Lord 
again," Fiss said with a frown.  "I don't like it."
	She bowed her head.  "What should I call you, then?"
	"Chris is a good start," he sighed.  "Fiss if you want.  Just no 
more Lord, Knight or Master, or anything creepy like that."
	"I'm honoured, Chris," Tambre smiled brightly.  "Thank you."
	He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.  "Much better."
	"Very cozy," Jess said suddenly from the far wall.
	Chris smiled, then paused as he saw the look on her face.  "What 
is it?" 
	"Nothing," Jess said, crawling out of her sleeping bag and 
kicking it to the side.  "Don't mind me."
	Tambre bowed her head.  "Thank you for staying with me last 
night."
	"Yeah, well Chris can take the next shift if you'd like," Jess 
said quickly.  "I'll just bugger off."
	"Bugger?" Tambre asked, turning to Fiss. 
	"Uhm, ask me later," he said quietly. 
	"A great idea!" Jesminder smiled forcefully as she crawled out of 
the tent, nearly ploughing into Nathan who had returned with water and 
dominion jerky.  "Have fun with little miss victim," she advised the 
marine before walking off into the tent city. 
	Fiss rushed after her, causing Nathan to have to spin around to 
avoid dropping the cups.  "Sorry!" he shouted, disappearing after the 
reporter. 
	Jess was already back at her tent, rummaging through her pack 
when Fiss caught up to her.  "Just chill.  I'm fine, alright?" she said 
hurriedly.
	"I upset you," Fiss said, crouching next to her.  "I'm sorry.  I 
didn't mean anything.  Tambre was just talking, and I was trying to be 
helpful."
	Jess turned to Fiss, then growled and tossed him into the tent.  
He landed painfully on what was probably a rock under the air-mattress, 
and rubbed his shoulder as she came in after him and zipped up the 
tent.  "Music," she demanded.  "So nobody can hear us."
	Chris obeyed after a moment, uncertain if he should be turned on 
or worried.  He placed his PDA by the entrance and instructed it to 
play some classical while creating a sound dampening field around the 
tent.
	"She's playing you," Jesminder said angrily, sitting down next to 
him.  "And you can't even see it.  She has both of you...Nathan is even 
worse with this army chivalry of his."
	"She's spilling her guts about something horrible, and probably 
more traumatic than we can imagine," Fiss defended.  "I'm not just 
going to sit there and take notes like a robot."
	Jess glared at him, grabbed his hand, and placed it firmly on the 
flat of her stomach.  Even through her shirt, he instantly felt the 
warmth filling his cheeks, and had to resist the urge to look down at 
the very nicely shaped...
	"See?" Jess interrupted his revelry.  "You just completely forgot 
the last thirty seconds of your life!  All because you touch a pretty 
girl!  God, you men are so predictable!"
	Fiss tried to refute her argument, but was finding it very 
difficult to form words.  She grumbled and let his hand go, then had to 
forcefully remove it before his mouth started moving to make words 
again.  "N...No!  It's not like that!"
	Jesminder sighed, then began straightening her hair out into a 
makeshift ponytail so it wasn't so messy from sleeping.  "Chris, I am a 
reporter.  A highly motivated, highly respected journalist.  I have 
professional equipment and talent at my disposal at all times, 
including a snitch list ranging from cops you probably don't know are 
mob-bought, all the way down to the people selling drugs to those you 
think are clean and pure souls."
	Before he could question who those contacts were, she leaned over 
him and straddled his lap, hair falling around her face in a perfect 
'post coital' mess.
	"But never, for one second," she said, trapping him with her arms 
and pushing him down on the bed, "think that I am not fully aware of 
how seduction works.  Even if she is not seriously propositioning you, 
she has you in the same way I have you right now, and you will listen 
to whatever I say because you'd give anything to be accepted by a sexy 
little set of boobs and ass."
	Chris was bright red, but really couldn't argue at the statements 
being made.  "I see..."
	Jess nodded, purposely brushing her hair against his cheek.  
"She's using you for something.  I don't like it, and I want you to be 
aware of it so she doesn't blindside you and endanger those ninety-nine 
thousand innocent souls still out there.  Normally, I'd have no problem 
waiting for her to burn you so you can get the lesson the hard way, but 
I kind of like you, Chris, and neither of us have time to dick around 
with lies."
	Blood was finally returning to his brain, and Chris sat up the 
best he could with her sitting on his hips.  "Jess, it's not a lie," he 
said quietly.  "She has one of them inside her.  I can feel the damn 
things like they were...shit, like they're crawling through my mind."
	"I know, and I trust that you're right," Jess said.
	"Then why are you acting like this?" Chris said with a frown.  
"I'm sorry she grabbed my hand, and I'm sorry she made a bad joke about 
paying me back with sex.  I had nothing to do with that, and I don't 
think I acted out of line."
	"You didn't," Jess smiled softly, but then something darker 
filled her eyes.  "But you also haven't had to interview victims of 
serial rapists."
	"And?" Fiss asked angrily after she said nothing. 
 	She leaned forward and held him down with her arm.  For a 
terrifying moment, he felt as if he couldn't move.  "Rape victims don't 
generally give a play-by-play of the action to relative strangers," she 
said, voice as soft as a whisper, but angry.  "Maybe she's just 
trusting you because of this boon thing and I sound like a jealous 
whiner.  Maybe not.  Keep that in mind when she's telling you the next 
batch of gory details and sobbing into your big, strong, protecting 
embrace."
	Jess stood up off of him, unzipped the tent, and walked off into 
the camp, leaving Fiss alone with a whirlwind in his head. 










Chapter 15











	William paced back and forth as he saw the massive transport ship 
land in the courtyard below.  Unlike the black, boxy military ships, 
this transport looked like a podgy bird clad in titanium and gold.  
Elaborate carvings and forged plates covered the ship, impressing the 
crowd with its antique grace compared to the military's stark utility.
	"Where the hell are they?" Will whispered to himself.  
	"Fashionably late, of course," Dave announced, materializing 
along with Dora and Jimmy, who looked far more disoriented by the shift 
in temperature than anything else.  
	"Late being the key word," William said, tossing Dora a set of 
sun-robes.  Jimmy gratefully took off the winter coat he had been 
wearing on Earth.
	They began walking quickly through the corridors of the Royal 
Spire's lower levels.  Most of the tower had been destroyed, but a few 
safe rooms had been repopulated after the fires had been extinguished.  
	"Status report," Dave ordered. 
	"Sanis' transport has just arrived.  I managed to convince one of 
the guards that we should be on it.  He's waiting for us below, but 
won't wait long."
	"Good," Dave nodded.  "Weapons?"
	"The Dolphin is regenerating in the underground bunker.  Should 
be at full attack capacity within two days.  Currently at ten percent.  
We have two Pookies left, plus whatever you brought with you from the 
Web."	
	"No Pookies," Dave ordered, shaking his head as William handed 
him one.  "Not even in Penguinspace.  I don't want them thinking or 
even guessing that we're armed to that extent."
	"No Pookies?" William blinked, then sighed, disappearing for a 
moment in a ball of light, flying off underground, and then returning 
in stride with the others a few moments later.  
	"What about the Protomatter core?" Dave asked.
	"In the Dolphin?" William asked.  Dave nodded.  "Intact and at 
ninety-four percent capacity, sir."
	"Good," Dave said quickly as they reached the ground level and 
stepped out into the harsh sunlight.  A crowd was gathering around 
where the transport had landed.  "Any thoughts on their jamming 
technology?"
	"It's not bad, sir," William admitted.  "Limits our range, but 
short, high-gain transmissions can get through alright."
	"Good," Dave said, pulling out his PDA.  After tapping on the 
holographic keypad for a moment, he put it away.  "I've set the Dolphin 
to self destruct if we don't return within ten days.  The blast should 
take out most of the Armada if something does go wrong."
	William looked horrified.  "You can't be serious."
	"I've never been more serious," Dave smiled lightly at him.  
	"No Pookies," William reiterated, "but we'll obliterate the Sol 
Platform and possibly warp Mercury's orbit?"
	"Don't be silly," Dave said as they moved through the crowd 
quickly to where a Negaverse Guard was standing suspiciously off to the 
side.  "Mercury would be fine.  It's on the other side of Sol right 
now, and the singularity would be long gone before it orbits close 
enough to be effected."
	"That's not really the point!" William said in an angry whisper.  
	Dave grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, coming to a stop 
just as they reached the edge of the crowd.  "The point is that there's 
no middle ground today, Will," he said quietly, but with such resolve 
in his voice that William said nothing.  "I need your support here, 
man," Dave continued.  "The Omega Web can't sit here and do nothing 
anymore.  We either trust these people not to screw up the single most 
important event in the last two thousand years, or we make sure it goes 
right at all costs.  Clear?"
	"Transparent, sir," William said, though the frown stayed on his 
brow as he turned and spoke to the guard waiting for them.
	There were ten guards going to report to the emperor, with the 
one William was speaking to as one of them.  Each were taking one or 
two Sol 'guests' with them.  Dora and William would stay behind, as 
Jimmy was the only actual survivor of the leadership of Sol before 
Maury came along.  Dave plastered on his best innocent, harmless face 
and turned to them.  "I'll try a test call every day.  If I don't talk 
to you soon, I'll see you in nine days.  If not, then get the hell out 
of here."
	William and Dora nodded, though neither looked happy.  
	"Cheer up," Dave winked.  "At least life isn't boring, right?"
	"Tell me about it," Will sighed. 
	Dora hesitated, but finally rushed forward and kissed Dave on the 
cheek.  Jimmy giggled at the display.  "Be careful you two," she said, 
leaning down to do the same to Jimmy. 
	"Eeew!"
	"Get over it, kid," Dave grinned.  "When you rule the sun and are 
as busy as I am, you'll be enjoying every case of cooties you can get."
	The guard introduced himself to the pair, some second level grunt 
on his first field mission ever who seemed excited that he would be 
paired with the young retainer of Sol.  As they were led past an armed 
line of troops to get closer to the Empyreal transport, an older man 
dressed in long, richly garnished robes stepped out from the belly of 
the ship.  
	He was tall, and very obviously ex-military from the number of 
scars he wore and the medals he sported on his robes.  Instead of mere 
obedience, the troops around him followed his gestures and orders with 
an air of respect only earned in the camaraderie of battle.  When he 
spoke, he held a small, yellow crystal up to his neck so his voice was 
amplified.  
	"People of Sol, I am Vizier Dolesbur, commander of the glorious 
Negaverse Armada.  On behalf of our ruler, Emperor Sanis, I bring you 
this message of peace between our peoples."
	A murmur erupted in the back of the crowd, but it died down 
quickly enough.
	"We have called upon you to represent your interests as this 
peace is forged by treaty, and the honoured volunteers you send to us 
today will be our revered guests, as well as representatives of your 
people if it is decided to place the Senshi on trial."
	This time, the murmur was not so quiet.  Angry shouts began to 
fill the air, ranging from cheers of Maury's name, all the way up to 
threats if he was harmed in any way.  Even those who were silent waited 
anxiously to see what happened.
	Dolesbur seemed not to notice the outbursts, and waited only as 
long as it took the crowd to quiet enough for him to continue his 
speech.  "We will announce any communication through the kiosks set up 
in this city centre.  All hail the Emperor."
	The booing was impressive, even close to the armed soldiers.  
They looked to Dolesbur for orders, but he just smirked and shook his 
head.  Not so long ago, booing the Emperor's name would have been 
punishable by death, but Dolesbur felt no need in honouring such a law 
when he himself was out to remove the throne.  The guards stood their 
place but did not take any other action as the old general removed the 
crystal from his neck and muttered an order to the nearest guards.  The 
guards, in turn, motioned to the groups of representatives to come 
forward.  They all began marching forward and past him into the 
transport.  
	"I feel like Charlie Bucket," Dave muttered to himself as he 
passed Dolesbur and into the gaudy ship beyond.  
	"Who's Charlie?" Jimmy asked, looking up at Dave, holding onto 
his coat for protection.  
	"He's either the boy who ended up getting everything he ever 
wished for, and lived happily ever after, or he had to put up with a 
hyperactive Johnny Depp advertising the virtues of dental hygiene for 
an hour and a half."
	There was seating for nearly three hundred aboard the ship, and 
they found a quiet corner by an elaborate bronze fountain that had been 
built into the wall.  Tiny monsters circled around a triumphant 
warrior, who seemed to be controlling them with a magic sceptre.  Each 
seat was hand crafted with leather and a bone that was slightly more 
porous, but warmer than ivory.  
	"I don't like it here," Jimmy whispered, slipping out of the seat 
every time he tried to force it to recline against its will. 
	The ship began lifting up into the air.  They only felt a gentle 
vibration, then saw the ground slip by without any feeling at all.  
Dave could appreciate the comfort factor, but it felt far too eerie for 
his own liking.  The Omega Web had purposely built their ships to 
provide the pilot a sense of inertia for that reason.  "I don't like it 
either," he said, looking out the wide port-side window.  
	As they ascended through the ranks of Negaverse ships, Dave was 
shocked at the sheer devastation Maury had inflicted upon them.  Huge 
fields of shrapnel were still floating in orbit where ships had been, 
and only a handful of anything larger than the fighter craft they had 
fought were still intact.  
	One huge carrier, similar to the style the Dolphin fought when 
first arriving near the Sun, sported a swarm of little robots and ships 
around it, trying to restart the power core but having little luck 
making anything happen but flames and sparks when it powered up.
	As they got closer to the sparking ship, Dave's interest got 
piqued, and he quietly reached into his pocket, activating his PDA to 
scan the carrier.  
	"Is it broken?" Jimmy asked, peering around Dave.  
	"Very," Dave said, feeling the edge of the PDA as it silently 
gave him a readout in Braille bumps.  His eyes went wide and he stood.  
"Jimmy, stay here."
	Jimmy nodded and scooted over to the window seat to watch what 
was going on.  
	Dave walked over to the main isle, looking for the command area.  
A pair of guards quickly noticed him and trudged over in their heavy 
armour.  "You will sit down," one of them ordered.  
	"Your ship's in danger," Dave said.  "The carrier that's under 
repair outside."
	The guards both smirked.  "And how do you know that, Sol man?"
	"Are you saying you planted a bomb?" the other chuckled.  "From 
all the way over here?"
	"Not me, dammit!" Dave said angrily.  "Your technicians didn't 
seal the magnetic containment correctly.  If the reactor starts up, the 
ship will explode."
	"Please, sit down," the first guard said, taking a step forward 
to force Dave backwards.
	Dave stood his ground, looking the man eye to eye, even with what 
he estimated was two inches of combat boot boost.  "Let me talk to the 
Vizier.  If he's the commander of this fleet, then I'm sure he'll be 
real happy if you two peons stopped me from letting him know one of his 
ships is about to turn into a cloud of shrapnel."
	"Sir, if you're not going to sit down, we will eject you from the 
transport."
	"Good," Dave shouted.  "Maybe I'll just float on over and show 
them what they're doing wrong myself!"
	Someone on the deck above shouted something in a language Dave 
didn't recognize.  Both guards reacted instantly, jumping to the side 
and standing at attention.  Dave looked up and saw Dolesbur walking 
down the steps.  "What's going on here?" he demanded.  
	Dave stood his ground as the man stomped up to him.  Even without 
the Dolesbur's boots, Dave was almost a foot shorter.  "You need to 
communicate to the repair crew on your carrier out there," Dave said 
simply.  "It's about to explode if they keep doing what they're doing."
	Dolesbur's eyes narrowed.  "What kind of joke is this?" he 
smirked.  "Or is this some kind of trick?"
	"Yes," Dave said sarcastically.  "I plan to take over your entire 
empire by forcing you to make a twenty second call to your techs out 
there and ask them if they checked the starboard magnetic array for 
damage."
	Sarcasm, luckily, was used in the Negaverse to the same effect as 
it was on Earth.  The huge man's frown did not dissipate, but he turned 
to one of the guards, giving him an order in his native tongue once 
more.  The guard saluted and ran up the steps to the cockpit.  Almost 
half a minute later, he returned with wide eyes.  After apparently 
letting the Vizier know that the technicians had indeed neglected to 
check the array, Dolesbur growled back a very obvious: "Then get them 
to check it!"  
	Dave waited patiently for the exchange to continue, accurately 
guessing almost every word spoken even without a translator and 
enjoying the growing frustration on Dolesbur's face as he was becoming 
more and more aware of the incompetence around him.  
	As they were reaching the Empyreal Battlecruiser dock, Dolesbur 
ordered the transport to slow down and turn to face the carrier ship 
far below in orbit.  
	The guard returned a few minutes later to report something that 
Dave couldn't quite guess at, and Dolesbur simply nodded.  
	"It seems they have checked the systems for damage and found 
nothing," Dolesbur said, clearly irritated by the entire conversation.  
	"Tell them to check it AGAIN!" Dave demanded.  "If they start up 
the power core you'll be down one more carrier and anyone close enough 
to the blast!"
	"They've already begun the power up sequence with absolutely no 
problems.  Tell me," Dolesbur growled, "are your people all this 
paranoid and annoying?  Or am I only going to have to kill a few of you 
before..."
	Bright light filled the cabin, causing shrieks of surprise to 
erupt from all decks.  Dolesbur and Dave rushed to the window and saw a 
giant ball of green energy where the carrier had once been.  It 
dissipated after a moment, but not before smashing into several other 
ships and destroying anything without shields.  No repair craft 
survived the explosion.  
	Dave waited patiently for Dolesbur's shocked face to turn to him 
once more.  He didn't have the heart to say "told you so", and just 
walked off back to his seat with the grim satisfaction that the Vizier 
felt very, very stupid at the moment.  
	Jimmy was plastered to the window.  "WOW!  Did you see that?"
	"Yes, Jimmy," Dave sighed, flopping back down in the other chair.
	"Was that the broken ship??" 
	"Yes, Jimmy.  It was.
	The small boy turned to Dave.  "Did everyone get off in time?"
	Dave was silent, and the boy's excitement turned to embarrassment 
at his own reaction.
	"I'm sorry," he said quietly. 
	"Me too," Dave agreed.  
	Neither said anything else until they docked. 











Chapter 16











	Battra and Fiss had gone on ahead to draw a siege gate and the 
first jump spell.  The entire camp was packed and people were waiting 
patiently on their carts or against trees, trying to grab some shade in 
the hot air.  
	In theory, they could jump twice and be at the edge of the forest 
with just these two spells.  Awaiting them would be supplies and 
hopefully a chance for a full night's rest.  They would need it, as the 
rocky plains ahead held dominion nests, and alertness would be key to 
make sure nobody strayed from the path.
	Jesminder and Jean peered around a tree, watching Nathan and 
Tambre talking off to the side.  "Okay," she whispered.  "Now!"
	Jean picked up his backpack and they both ran behind the next 
cart, finally reaching where Tambre's tent was rolled up and awaiting 
her to carry it.  He stood next to the pack to provide cover as Jess 
opened it and began digging through.  "What exactly are you looking 
for?" he asked.  
	"Anything strange," Jess said.  "She came here with just her 
dress.  We gave her a spare tent.  I'm seeing if she has something we 
don't know about.  Who knows, maybe she's smuggling something away from 
Eden's Will and needs us to provide cover."
	"Possible," Jean said, watching Tambre and Nathan talking.  "Like 
in Iran?  That one girl we found who was smuggling the names?"
	"Maybe.  But you can't hide documents up there for any length of 
time.  She would have moved them to her pack or another hiding place," 
Jess said, then grinned up at Jean.  "Like a small box, maybe?"
	Jean looked down and saw Jess pulling out a cloth-wrapped object 
about the size and shape of a deck of cards.  "Aren't you worried about 
that angel-script stuff?"
	"I'm not going to touch it," Jess defended.  "I have tools in my 
tent.  I'm not that stupid to try and open it with my bare hands."
	Finding nothing else of interest, Jess carefully unwrapped the 
box and dropped it into her pants pocket.  Then, looking around, she 
found a rock of about the same size and wrapped it up the same way as 
the box had been.  
	"Jess, come on..." Jean sighed.  "That's pretty obvious."
	"Yeah, but it will fool a quick touch," she said, tying the pack 
back up and leaving it where she found it.  "Come on!"
	They rushed back to the back of the crowd where people were 
milling about and packing their belongings, keeping more of an eye on 
the sky than anything else, since they would be the last to get through 
the gate at the front anyway.
	Jess' tent was one of the last standing, and they rushed inside 
where she had packed all her belongings except a small toolkit.  "Not 
the camera kit, Jess!" Jean complained.  "What if it melts or 
something?"
	"I'll get you another," she promised, putting on a latex glove to 
pull the box out from her pocket.  It did nothing, despite the runes 
and script etched into the lid, and she smiled at Jean.  "See?  It will 
be fine."
	Jean sighed, and resigned himself to taping the act of vandalism.  
	The tiny box was locked using some kind of combination slider.  
Instead of attempting the puzzle, Jess placed a tiny screwdriver 
against the hinge pin and began to push it through the holes. 
	"That doesn't look like any camera I've seen," Nathan said, 
startling them both.  "Care to explain yourselves?"
	Both Jess and Jean pulled the marine into the tent, looked around 
to see if Tambre was behind him, and finding she was not, zipped the 
side back up.  
	"I withdraw the question," Nathan grumbled, rubbing his head 
where he had taken a dive into the ground.  "I now ask, what the HELL 
are you doing?"
	Jess held her hand to his mouth to quiet him down.  "Please!  
Shh!  I think Tambre's up to something."
	"So you steal from her backpack?" Nathan frowned.
	"No!  I'll give it back if it's just food or something," Jess 
explained hurriedly.  "But she didn't arrive with this, did she?"
	Nathan looked at the box.  "Not that I recall..."
	"So she's either hiding something, or stole it from somebody 
else," Jess smiled, glossing over any other possibilities the best she 
could.  "So I'm either wrong and have to sneak this back in her pack, 
or we're catching a criminal.  What's the harm?"  
	"We still think," Jean said, "that someone might be giving away 
our location, right?  What if this is some kind of magical homing box?"
	Nathan still looked uncomfortable, but the threat was real enough 
in his mind.  He nodded.  "Okay.  Just a look.  Nothing more."
	Jess nodded and quickly continued her work on the pin holding the 
two halves of the hinge together.  It slid out finally, and she pried 
the box open with a larger screwdriver, careful not to make any 
noticeable scratches or dents.  
	Jean swallowed back a lump of nervousness in his throat.  "You 
sure about this, Jess?"
	"Nope," she grinned into the camera, and popped the top off.  
	
	Dried prunes.  

	The box had three dried prunes in it.  At least, they looked like 
dried prunes, with their slightly purplish-black colour and wrinkles. 
Jean and Nathan both let out sighs of relief, while Jesminder's sigh 
was one of disappointment.  
	"NOW can we put this back before we get in," Nathan started, then 
his eyes went wide.  "It just blinked at me!" he pointed, taking out 
his knife.  
	Jess looked down and saw that each of the 'prunes' had three tiny 
eyeballs that were opening to glance around at the trio excitedly.  
"Now what do we have here?" she murmured, gently moving one of the 
prune-things with the end of her screwdriver.  It didn't fight back, 
but made a tiny squeak as it bounced into one of the other two.  "What 
do you think they are?"
	"And why does she have them hidden in her backpack?" Nathan 
asked.  "Do you think they're weapons?"
	"We can try to dissect one," Jean offered.  "Don't you know all 
about skinning animals now, Jess?"
	"Cookers, Jean.  That's about it," she said, frowning.  "I 
suppose we could try, but what will we do when she finds one missing?"
	The tiny three-eyed tings looked at each-other worriedly.  
	Nathan shrugged.  "Anyone bring any dried fruit?"
	Jess nodded.  "I bet Fiss has something in that penguin-space 
thing."
	"But does he like prunes?" Nathan said with a smirk.  "I've never 
seen him eating prunes."
	"God..." Jean sighed, reaching into his pack.  "Don't you people 
ever eat a balanced diet?  Try it sometimes.  You might be less jumpy," 
he said, tossing Nathan a bag of mixed dry fruit.  Sure enough, among 
the apple slices and apricots were a pair of prunes hiding at the 
bottom.
	Nathan compared the prune to the tiny animal-things.  It was a 
bit bigger but close enough in texture and shape.  "Alright," he 
laughed.  "I suppose we have the decoy."
	"Good," Jess said, looking down at the increasingly worried-
looking little things, who seemed to be either guessing or 
understanding what the humans around them were talking about.  "I don't 
know.  Do you think they're intelligent?  Or pets?"
	"Or even other cherubs," Nathan offered with a frown, knife still 
in his hand.  "Of course, that just makes me want to shoot them instead 
of dissect them."	
	"Whatever we do, we should do it soon," Jean mentioned, looking 
at the clock built in to the display on his hand camera.  "They should 
be almost done the spell now.  We'll be ready to go any moment."
	"Fine," Nathan said, taking the box from Jess.  "I'm curious, so 
I'll do it.  I'm the only one here wearing body armour, so everyone 
else stand behind me in case it explodes."
	"Curiosity killed the cat," Jean commented dryly, earning dirty 
looks from the others.  
	Nathan put on a pair of thick gloves he had in a belt pouch, then 
emptied the camera tool case to use as a makeshift operating table.  
The little prune things squeaked angrily as the marine lifted them up, 
wiggling the box until one fell into the case.
	Jess quickly tossed in the prune, closed the lid and replaced the 
pin.  "We'll put it back in a second," she winked into the camera. 
	"Jesminder, ladies and gentlemen," Jean announced playfully.  
"Reporter and part time cat burglar."
	"Guys, come on," Nathan sighed, holding down the prune thing with 
the end of a spare screwdriver.  "This is serious."
	"Alright, please," Jess said, scooting around Nathan as he leaned 
over the prune.  "Continue when ready."  Jean also went behind Nathan, 
and only risked his arm to see the gory details.  
	Nathan sighed, pressing his knife into the squeaking thing.  
"This is really disturbing."  It stopped squeaking a moment later, and 
the three little eyes fluttered lifelessly.  "I'm swearing off prunes, 
by the way, guys.  You're both my witnesses."
	It sliced open easily, and there were only slightly different 
shades of purple-black inside that indicated it had any kind of organs 
or structure.  He pulled his knife back when he saw that, inside, sharp 
yellow teeth were arranged in two rows, like a mouth hidden within the 
body.  
	"Okay, doesn't look like anything explosive, but take a look at 
this," Nathan whispered.  Jess and Jean peered out around his shoulders 
to see the strange inner mouth.
	"Maybe these are its adult teeth?" Jean offered with a shrug.  
	A small burp filled the tent, and they looked down at the thing 
as it shook from some kind of gas escaping the body.  Nathan held the 
knife ready to attack, but it didn't move after the bubble.  
	"That's really strange," Jesminder said, sniffing the air.  
"Smells like rotten eggs."
	They all had just enough warning to shield their eyes as the 
thing bubbled up again suddenly, then exploded.  Jess fell backwards 
screaming and Jean fell over, barely protecting the camera in his 
hands. 
	"Is everyone alright?" Nathan said quickly, checking himself for 
holes.  
	Both Jess and Jean checked themselves over.  A black powder had 
sprayed all over their arms and bodies, but they seemed unharmed.  
Nathan found a stray tooth that had stuck into his bullet-proof vest.  
	"Yeah, I'm fine," Jess finally said, breathing a big sigh of 
relief. 
	"Camera's okay" Jean said.  "Oh, me too," he added quickly, 
already polishing the lens with his shirt.
	"Reporters," Nathan smirked, dusting himself off.  "So?  Any idea 
what that was?"
	"Well, rotten eggs means sulphur, doesn't it?" Jean offered, 
cleaning the lens of the camera with a clean portion of his shirt.  
"What if those things are demons?  You know?  Brimstone, sulphur, Hell 
and all that."
	"I don't like where this is going," Nathan frowned.  
	"Makes sense, though," Jesminder said.  "What if she's trying to 
transport demons to Earth?  Or even just back to the city of SkitZ?"
	"Or they could be her babies," Jean said.  "Maybe she's a demon?"
	Nathan sighed, wiping his face off with a spare fold of jacket.  
"You're both jumping to conclusions.  If she's a demon, she's got to be 
winning prizes for the nicest one."
	"It would explain why angels are trying to attack her all the 
time," Jess suggested, ignoring Nathan.  "Maybe she can't fool cherubs.  
For all we know, she has Chris fooled and can work on you just as 
easily."
	"Or maybe you're saying 'maybe' a lot," Nathan said, packing up 
the tools.  "Come on, we need to get this back.  Let's clean off in the 
lake in case she realizes what this crap is and then I'll go distract 
her."
	As they exited the tent, word had gotten out that the gate was 
open and the front lines were advancing.  If they sped through like 
they did last time, it would only take three or so hours for everyone 
to get to the gate.  
	In the busy confusion, it was simple for Jess to replace the box 
as she found it, and even helped a grateful Tambre with her pack.  The 
young woman didn't seem to suspect a thing.  Jess had just enough time 
to pack up when the rear of the group began slowly waddling and rolling  
forward.  
	"Is everything alright?" Tambre asked as they started marching.  
	Jesminder smiled.  "Of course.  Just nervous, that's all.  I kind 
of liked the forest."
	"Me too," Tambre said lightly, but then shook her head.  "But I 
was talking about last night.  I'm sorry if I upset you."
	Jess scratched her neck nervously.  "No, it's just I was trying 
to sleep.  Got a bit cranky.  I didn't mean to snap at you."
	"I understand," she smiled back.  "I keep forgetting that your 
days are shorter as well.  Everyone here is used to it.  It must be 
difficult to adjust."
	"It's just poetic justice," Jess said.  "All my life I thought 
there weren't enough hours in the day.  I finally get to a place where 
that's true, and I end up hating it."
	Nathan strode up next to them, loading his pistols.  "I don't 
mean to alarm anyone," he said quietly, "but there's something in the 
bushes behind us."
	Not even ten seconds later, five archangels swooped over their 
heads.  Three of them dropped next to the back of the group, while the 
other two continued further into the woods, where a large number of 
shadows seemed to be gathering.  
	"More soldiers," Nathan said.  "Sky looks clear at least."
	Something roared deeper in the bushes, and the trees began to 
shake.  
	"Or not," Nathan observed as one of the angels that had rushed in 
to the battle came flying back out.  Instead of using his wings, 
however, he seemed to be ripped in half and was long dead before he hit 
the ground.  











	"What do you intend to do with the whelp?" Battra asked as he 
held the spell open.  
	Fiss stood next to him, watching people appear, walk ten steps 
into the other permanent gate, and disappear again.  Beavis kept moving 
back and forth, bringing good news that the destination appeared clear 
of attackers or dominions.  "What whelp?" he mumbled. 
	"The girl in white," Battra smirked at him.  "Or did you think I 
wouldn't notice a newcomer to the City?  I may not have your gift of 
names, Angel, but I can still use my eyes."
	"She asked for safe passage to the City of SkitZ," Fiss shrugged.  
"I suppose if she wants to come to Edmonton we'll decide when we get 
there."
	"Very kind of you," Battra nodded.  "Have you so many extra homes 
and fields waiting for us that you don't need to screen newcomers?"
	"We've lost too many people already," Fiss said.  "Are you so 
picky on who gets to travel with you?"
	"A rival warrior, and two who expose secrets?" Battra laughed.  
"You're one to talk.  I could teach you many things about your travel 
companions and why such a group is beyond foolish."
	"Friends," Chris said.  "They are all friends."
	"And that is why they are foolish choices," Battra said.  "Should 
you lose one, would you have regrets?"
	"Of course," Fiss nodded.
	"And if they all die," Battra said.  
	"I don't see the difference," Fiss frowned.  "I don't consider 
any loss acceptable, if that's what you're saying.  Would you rather 
travel with enemies than friends?"
	"Yes," Battra said, eyebrow raised.  "That way I know I may do 
whatever is needed to ensure my mission."
	"And what is your mission?"
	"Your orders, of course," Battra said quickly.  "Should you say 
the words, I could close this gate, killing the ten thousand still on 
the other side.  The spell could consume them and fuel a fire to 
eradicate these impostor Aszaps and all trace of the armies that peruse 
us."
	There was a dangerous tone in the mage's voice.  Chris felt his 
wings ruffle.  
	"But you wouldn't allow that," Battra said lightly.  "You're so 
desperate to redeem yourself from the shadow of Azrael that you would 
gladly sacrifice us all to save just a few.  Oh, but your rationale is 
so much different than your practice, you see.  You want to save 
everyone, but you will be unable to save anyone if you keep this path."
	"I've always been open to your suggestions," Chris growled at 
him.  "YOU chose not to tell me because of some childish oath spoken to 
a dead ruler.  And no matter HOW many times I explain it to you, 
tradition and blind faith to this bullshit brings you back to this same 
argument again and again."
	Battra was unreadable, but finally, nodded.  "You're right.  I am 
treating you like Azrael.  And you're right that my faith is blind to 
your new and foolish ways.  And I believe both of us will not be 
changing our minds, actions or rationale any time soon."
	"I'm glad we have that cleared up," Chris said stiffly. 
	"Me too," Battra said, returning his attention to the spell as 
people walking past them began to hurry faster and faster.  "But I need 
you to tell me one thing.  If you aren't going to act it or plan for 
it, I need to know if you're ready to make the hard decisions when more 
people die."
	"I'm ready and I have already," Fiss frowned, crossing his arms.  
"But I do it my way.  Don't doubt or forget that."
	Beavis came running through, jumping out of the stream of people 
and nearly crashing into Chris' leg.  "Attack!" he said hoarsely.  
"Something big!  Really big dominion or something!"
	"Colour?" Battra asked.
	"Uhm...brown?" Beavis offered.  "Farm soil."
	"Red stripes?" 
	The hedgehog nodded.  "Like a tiger."
	Battra turned to Fiss with a dry smirk.  "Are you certain you 
don't want to try it my way?  I could kill it from here.  Blast them to 
Kingdom Come."
	"No!" Fiss shouted, but then cleared his throat.  "But what is 
it?  I never heard of..."
	"A Rocksalt King," Battra said through a toothy grin.  "Normally, 
their eggs are destroyed on sight, but our forces have not been as 
attentive to their patrols as they once were."
	"What is it?" Fiss said, unsheathing his sword.  
	"Oh," the old mage shrugged, "just like your familiar mentioned.  
Just a really big dominion.  Flightless, too.  But if you're not going 
to do it my way, then you should get over there and do it your way now.  
Not many people will be left if you don't," Battra advised with a 
smirk. 
	"Beavis," Fiss turned to the hedgehog.  "Go on ahead and make 
sure the others know what might be coming through.  Prepare for injured 
and dead."
	"That," Battra said with an appreciative look, "was perhaps the 
smartest thing I've heard you say all week."
	"I'll give you smart," Beavis glared at Battra, then zipped off 
into the Siege Gate to warn the forward troops.  
	Fiss' coat uncased and turned into wings.  "If you're so eager to 
travel with enemies, you're off to an excellent start," he said, 
reaching into his pants pocket.
	Battra just chuckled as Fiss put on his sunglasses and jumped 
through the gate between a gap in panicking people.  When Fiss was 
gone, he knelt down to the soil he had drawn the spell in, and began to 
add characters with his right hand, maintaining the gate with his left.  
Slowly, the gate changed colour from blue-green to a yellowish, pure 
light.  











	A great swath of blood was all Nathan saw when he finally 
reloaded and poked his head out from behind the half-destroyed cargo 
cart.  Forms that had once been people were still squirming in the red 
slush that had once been their skin.  
	"Holy mother of fucking Christ..." he whispered to himself, 
looking back towards the source of the destruction.  
	It stood storeys tall, and crushed the forest around it as easily 
as a child would run through tall grass.  From head to toe, its brown 
and red striped hide glistened in the sun due to millions of tiny 
crystals growing on it.  
	A wounded archangel charged the great beast with his sword 
outstretched.  Jesminder and Tambre had to look away as the dominion 
raised its head, opened its mouth, and sent a great storm of yellow 
dust flying at the angel.  Its skin began to melt away, and its battle 
cry turned into a howl of anguish.  By the time its body had fallen 
into the beast's mouth, it was a mercy killing for the jaws to crush 
it. 
	Nathan looked at the twin pistols in his hands and quickly stowed 
them, realizing they would be nearly useless after his shots had 
bounced off of the armoured skin of the giant dragon.  
	"What are you doing?" Jess asked, holding the shaking Tambre in 
her lap.  All thoughts of her being a demon were lost after seeing the 
first hundred people turned into paste.  
	"Honestly?" Nathan said, dumping his backpack on the ground and 
pulling another, larger package out of the cargo cart's roof.  "I have 
no fucking idea," he grinned madly, pulling out the scout drone from 
its packing.  He popped open the side and pulled out a small plastic 
cartridge.  
	"What is it?" Jean asked.
	"Top secret," Nathan said quickly, pulling off a small rubber tab 
on the side.  "Hopefully, top secret enough to do something to this 
thing.  Try to get the cart stood up.  We may need running cover if 
this doesn't work."
	The Rocksalt King lumbered closer, reaching down with its 
massive, car-sized head, and began to lick up the half-dead goo.  
Muffled cries filled the air as the massive tongue pulled the red slime 
into its mouth.  The overwhelming smell of salt was the only thing that 
masked the smell of blood and excrement.
	Nathan ran out from behind the cart, leading the dragon away from 
the others as it spotted him instantly.  "COME ON, YOU BASTARD!  THIS 
WAY!" he shouted, waving his arms.  In one hand, he had the scout's 
fuel-cell; the other held one of his pistols.  
	Needing no more invitation, the Rocksalt King howled a dry, 
sadistic sound and charged after the marine with surprising speed.  In 
one stride, its massive legs had propelled it halfway to Nathan.  
	When he was sure the chase was on, Nathan slid to a stop on the 
flattened trees and bush, turned around and began to sprint for the 
dragon's head, hoping to make it under its jaws in time.
	While the King was fast, it had too much momentum to slow down to 
scoop Nathan up.  It howled in anger and released a blast of yellow 
dust from its mouth.  Nathan was barely able to duck under the stream 
of coarse salt crystals, and heard the plant life behind him steaming 
as it suffered the same fate as the angels and refugees before it.  He 
tripped on the churning branches under the dragon, and rolled to a stop 
only a foot beyond a talon-clawed toe as it stomped down.  
	"Have some thirty-first-fucking-century payback, asshole," Nathan 
growled, heaving the fuel cell at the Rocksalt King's head, which was 
still twisting and hunting to see where he had gone.
	It landed at the base of the dragon's neck, and Nathan stood up, 
pulling his pistol up as he ran back toward the cart.  On the second 
shot, just as the beast spotted him, the fuel cell exploded, throwing 
him forward.
	The dominion let out a great howl of anger, spraying the sky with 
salt.  It burnt all it fell on, but at least it did not seem to melt 
the crowd as they continued fleeing for the gate.  Nathan rolled 
painfully to a stop, facing the wide-eyed Jesminder.  "Ha-ha!  How did 
I do?" he asked, twisting around to see the damage.  
	Jess' smile faded as she looked past him.  "NATH-!"
	Her scream was cut off by the great, roaring sound of salt being 
blasted towards them.  Nathan made a desperate attempt to fling himself 
behind the cart, but only reached part of the wheel in time.  His legs 
were swept out from under him, and the resulting force of the dust 
caused him to spin in mid air, smacking his head into the cart with 
enough power to knock him unconscious.  
	Jesminder finally opened her eyes, expecting to see only half a 
man left.  She was both shocked and relieved when she saw his body 
armour had extended to several places on his legs.  The salt still 
hissed and burnt him, however, and he looked as if he' slid across a 
pile of sandpaper.
	Jean continued to try and push the cart back up, but the wheels 
were too far gone and crumbled despite his willing them not to.  
"Shit!" he gasped, letting the thing collapse.  "Now what?"
	They felt something very hot above them suddenly, and the sun was 
suddenly blocked out from the sky.  Jess looked up to see the dominion 
searching the horizon.  It hadn't spotted them yet, as far as she could 
tell, and motioned for everyone to stay silent as she grabbed Nathan 
and got ready to haul him on her back.  Jean rushed over to help, and 
Tambre picked herself up and readied herself to sprint when the others 
did.  
	A blue flash lit up the air above them, and rust-coloured blood 
spilt down over their heads as a gash opened up on the monster's brown 
shoulder.  Fiss flew past, hoping to draw the dragon's attention from 
the crowd.
	He got more than he bargained for when the King actually leapt 
over the cart and took a bite at him in retaliation for the wound.  
Fiss had to dive to get enough speed to fly under the massive dragon 
missile, and both combatants crashed into the ground hard from the 
exchange.  
	"Flightless," Fiss groaned as he picked himself up off of the 
flattened forest around them.  "Flightless my ass."
	Slowly, the Rocksalt King raised itself off of the trees and 
people it had landed on.  Its brown belly was now spackled with blood 
not its own.  Only the tiny slash across its front-left leg showed any 
indication it was mortal.
	"Get the hell out of here!" Fiss shouted to the terrified people 
watching in awe.  "Jess!  Get everyone THROUGH the GATE!"
	Jess nodded and launched into action.  They ran with Nathan slung 
across their shoulders, leaving the cart behind.  
	The dominion was clearly not happy that some of its prey were 
escaping, and made a final slash at them with its tail.  Fiss responded 
by launching yet another bolt of brilliant energy; it would have 
severed half the tail off had the dragon not been smart enough to pull 
it back at the last second.  
	"Where the hell," Fiss growled, "are they getting these things?"
	"Do you like our pet, Lord Fiss?" came a laughing call from 
behind the few trees still standing.  
	Fiss ignored the catcalls and readied his sword.  If the beast 
could move fast enough at a standstill to avoid his blade's power, then 
he only needed to agitate it enough to commit to a direction.  Momentum 
seemed to be its weakness. 
	The Rocksalt King also seemed aware of this limitation, however, 
and was not budging to attack.  In fact, it seemed to grow a wicked 
smile on its snout when Fiss began to pace back and forth.  It only 
followed the Knight with its eyes, and a growing rumble began to 
emanate from its belly.  
	Fiss lashed out with his blade, throwing another arc of energy at 
the beast just as it fired a massive stream of salt at him.  In order 
to dodge the deadly blue flash, the dominion had to duck its head and 
missed Fiss completely, giving the Knight time to charge up and strike 
again.
	Even with momentum against it, the Rocksalt King was able to 
dodge enough that Fiss' slash impacted on its rump and cut a huge, but 
non-lethal hole in its back.  Fiss was unprepared when another jet of 
salt came rushing forward at him, and he was forced to duck and 
activate his sword's shield to keep from being vaporized.  Salt 
impacted on the energy field, and pushed him back as it piled up into a 
small, half-moon shape around him.  
	Fiss decided to shift tactics and began to draw Theban as he was 
hidden behind the salt crust.  This turned out to be a bad idea, 
however, when the dominion began charging him, thinking him immobile.  
He leapt up and managed to finally connect metal with the beast, 
earning him only a superficial wing-nip for his delay.  Blood gushed 
forth from the side of the monster's head now, but it did not look put 
off by the injuries.  Another massive spray of salt forced Fiss to curl 
up into a ball and dive behind the safety of his hand-guard's shield 
once more.  
	He landed on the satellite-dish-shaped formation of salt and slid 
to a stop on it a dozen meters away.  Inspiration struck, and he pulled 
the salt at the end of his sword up like an umbrella when the next wave 
of breath lashed at him.  Reinforced by his sword's energy shield, the 
salt crust grew and hardened, fusing together in layers.  
	"I've got you now, asshole," Fiss grinned up from over the top of 
the circle, ducking his head back down just in time as another, then 
another angry wave lashed over him, fusing with the shape and providing 
more and more cover.  "I'm a motherfucking Katamari!"
	Confused at the strange tactic, the Rocksalt King tried the best 
thing it knew how to do: breathe more salt at it.  It couldn't 
comprehend that the only thing its breath was unable to melt was the 
salt itself, and so Fiss' cover got so incredibly large that he was 
able to remove his blade and start to etch Theban into the back of the 
shape.  
	Finally, howling in frustration, the Rocksalt King charged at 
Fiss and his half-sphere of molten salt, hoping to trample it.  The 
delay still gave Fiss ample time to finish his spell, aim, and activate 
it.  
	The salt chunk flew up at the dominion at rapid speed, seeking 
out more of its home element within the belly of the beast.  Fiss flew 
behind it, sword poised. 
	Realizing it couldn't stop in time to dodge, the King lashed out 
with its deadly jaws.  The huge fangs came down, crushing the salt 
shield in a million pieces, but completely missed Fiss, whose sword 
connected with the top of its skull, splitting it in half as he flew 
by.    
	Cheering erupted from the last handful of refugees who had been 
brave enough to stay for the fight as the massive dragon collapsed in a 
heap, guts pouring from its broken body.  Fiss turned to the army 
hiding in the bushes, sheathed his sword, and properly flipped them a 
middle finger before flying back to usher his people along.  
	Jess was there, waiting with wide, laughing eyes as Fiss landed.  
Wasting no time, she ran over and hugged him tight.  "That was 
amazing!"
	"I'd say something witty about my sodium intake, but I'm not 
Arnold Schwarzenegger," Fiss grinned, kissing her soundly.
	An angry war-cry came from across the field, and people started 
rushing through the gate once more.  Jess sighed in frustration as the 
shouting got closer and they parted from their kiss.  
	"We'll have time," she said hopefully.  "Tonight?"
	"We'll see," he promised with a wink.  
	"I won't tell a soul," she said, turning slightly red on her 
cheeks.  "I just figure that kind of performance deserves a reward of 
some kind."
	"You'd better get going, then," Fiss said with a smile.  "I'll 
see you in a bit.  Can't let the yokels through, though."
	Jess nodded, paused to give him a rather sexy grin, then ran 
through the gate.  
	Fiss helped an elderly couple through the portal, then rushed to 
assist a farmer carrying a huge water-pack.  When he had time again to 
look up, he saw almost one hundred of the Eden's Will volunteers tying 
strings on their long-bows from half the field away, using the dead 
Rocksalt King for cover.
	"Last call!" Fiss shouted at the many (far too many) corpses, 
hoping for a response.  "Going once!  Going twice!"
	"Wait!" someone shouted feebly from behind a mostly-crushed 
wagon.  Fiss breathed out the breath he would have used for 'Gone' and 
rushed over to help the old woman.
	The first arrows were already flying when Fiss and the woman got 
to the gate.  "Wait!" she said again, tears in her eyes.  "The fallen.  
A prayer for the fallen, please!"
	Fiss gave her an incredulous look, but nodded, turning to the 
sky.  He waited for the arrows to get close enough, then shouted 
'FISS!' destroying them in mid flight and ruining whatever spells they 
contained.  
	"Find rest, poor souls," he said solemnly as the army launched a 
second volley at them.  "I hope you will go to where you desire most.  
My new home is open to you if you wish, even in death."
  	"Oh, thank you, Lord Fiss," the woman cried happily.
	"It's not Lord Fiss," Chris explained as they stepped through the 
gate.  "Chris is fine.  Or just plain old Fiss.  Never Lord Fiss."
	
	He popped out on the other side, seeing an amused Battra waiting 
for them.  They helped the old woman through to the Siege Gate, then 
Battra muttered a cancel word to close the non-permanent opening.
	"I was thinking you stayed too long," the mage said dryly.  "Was 
the Rocksalt King too much?"
	"Of course not," Fiss said, just as dryly as they stepped through 
the second gate.  "I was expecting something far more terrifying.  It 
didn't do your description justice," he said, dusting his shoulder free 
of salt crystals that had fallen on him.
	"Ahh," Battra laughed.  "I'm glad to hear."
	
	They arrived together on the other side of the Siege Gate, and 
Fiss pulled out his sword to close it.  
	He heard his name being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but 
the act of calling on the Casting Block eliminated the noise from his 
mind.  Battra and the others all stood back and watched the Knight leap 
up and silence the supposedly counter-proof spell once more, cutting 
off the path and leaving the armies another week or two behind.  
	When he at last put away his sword, he found Beavis flying up to 
his shoulder.  "Chris!"
	"Hey, Beav," Fiss grinned.  "You should have seen it.  That old  
dragon was nothing a little-"
	"No!" Beavis shook his head quickly, making a rustling sound with 
his quills.  "Listen!  Where's Jesminder and the others?"
	Fiss blinked, looking around.  He saw the older lady he rescued 
being tended to by one of the archangel medics.  "She came through just 
before that old lady."
	"No, she didn't!" Beavis said hurriedly.  "I've been watching, 
and I haven't seen her!"
	Chris turned to Battra.  "What happened?"
	Battra frowned.  "The gates worked as they were drawn.  They did 
not fluctuate, least of all the Siege Gate.  I saw your friends as they 
passed from one to the next."
	Beavis sat on Fiss' shoulder as he took to the air, looking 
around the crowd.  "Chris," the little hedgehog insisted, "I've been 
watching.  I knew they'd be delayed if they stayed to help you, but, 
but from what the old mage is saying he saw them come through ahead of 
Tambre, and I haven't seen her.."
	"That's right," Fiss said, feeling something cold run up his 
spine.  "They should be here.  They have to be here.  Beavis, maybe 
someone got in your way or they were behind the crowd."
	Beavis sighed, but nodded.  "I hope so too."
	"They have to be here," Chris swallowed back the sudden terror in 
his throat.  "Where else could they have gone?"










	"Oh, God...no.  No, please no..." 
	Jesminder's eyes opened slowly.  Painfully.  Her head felt like 
it had just been visited by a very unwelcome sack of bricks.  Panic 
gripped her when she couldn't see anything despite her open eyes.  
"What happened?"
	"Jess?" Tambre gasped, then laughed gratefully.  "Oh, thank 
Heaven you're here.  I thought I was alone."
	Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she looked around, 
seeing that she was sitting on some kind of solid stone bench.  "What 
happ-" she raised her hand to rub her forehead, and screamed in 
surprise when the sharp bite of a metal clasp held her wrist from 
rising more than to her mouth.  "A chain?" she gasped.  "What's going 
on?  Tambre!  What's going on?"
	"Please," a new voice said timidly, oozing out from the darkness.  
"You may tell her, Tambre."
	Tambre began sobbing.  "Oh no...no...please no."
	Jess looked towards the voice, seeing the silhouette of a young 
woman walking towards them.  "Where are Jean and Nathan?" Jess asked, 
voice as strong as she could force it to be in the ocean of fear 
rolling through her head.  "Tambre!  Shut up!" she ordered, earning a 
sob, but no more chanting from the girl.  "Are our friends safe?" she 
demanded again of the new woman. 
	 "Safe as can be," the woman said in a small voice.  "Caring for 
the wounds of one.  The other is sleeping.  You may see them again if 
you promise to help me."
	Jesminder began pulling on the chain, testing its strength.  
"Fuck you.  Who are you?  Where is this?  Let us go before you really 
PISS me off."
	"This one has spirit," another voice said, sliding out of the 
darkness.  This one was male.  Older.  Something unwholesome echoed in 
his words that frightened Jess further.  "We will talk soon," it 
promised.
	Slowly, the silhouette of the woman turned and began walking 
away.  Jesminder screamed at her.  "Come BACK here you bitch!  You let 
us go NOW!"
	"I will answer your questions only if you are silent," the woman 
said softly.  
	Jess bit her lip to keep from screaming at her.  Knowledge, she 
told herself.  Knowledge is power.  Gain all you can.  
	"My name is Marish," the woman said finally.  "And you are 
nowhere.  A place out of time and space.  Away from the eyes of heaven 
and hell."
	Silence.  Jess' patience faded.  "And what the hell is that 
supposed to mean?"
	"It means," Marish continued, "that my first rule is that you do 
not call for either Heaven nor Hell to help you.  They cannot hear you, 
and it only brings false hope into my experiments.  This can skew the 
result and make us have to repeat the experiment.  Very time consuming 
and unpleasant for everyone, I can assure you."
	"Experiments?" Jess demanded.  "What do you mean?"
	No answer.  
	"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!" Jess shouted, causing the entire room 
to echo. 
	The woman turned back to face Jess, and there was annoyance in 
her voice.  "And you will receive no answers like that."
	Jess growled and tried kicking at the woman, only to find her 
legs had been manacled to the base of the stone bench.  
	Marish turned around and walked to where Jess could just barely 
see a door's outline in the shadows.  "Goodnight, Tambre.  It is good 
to see you again," she said softly.
	The only further sound was the door being bolted shut, and 
Tambre's quiet, terrified sobbing.  











Chapter 17











	Maury yawned lazily as he pissed into the water grate in the 
corner of his cell.  Hidden sensors began to activate and a stream of 
fresh water poured down from the roof, cleaning away the waste.  He 
laughed to himself, figuring that if he tried hard enough, he could 
pretend he was in some fancy foreign hotel with strange and unusual 
toilets.  
	"Did you know," Dave Reinquest said, suddenly behind him, "that I 
had to pass through five dimensional phases to get to you?  And what do 
I get for this incredible feat of mental power and self control?  I get 
to watch the prince of Sol piss all over the floor."
	Maury recovered from the surprise and quickly zipped up.  "I was 
doing just fine before you snuck up behind me, asshole."
	Dave laughed and they exchanged a brief hug.  
	"So, five dimension-thingies," Mo said.  "Is that good?"
	Dave shrugged and pulled out a folding lawn-chair from his coat 
so he could sit down.  "Not bad for a prison.  It might even hold you 
for a while, until you burnt through the walls and caused the phases to 
mix and cancel out.  They must really be worried you'll do that."
	"Not really," Mo smiled.  "The Emperor and I got an 
understanding.  All is cool."
	"We're meeting him tomorrow," Dave said.  "They've brought us on 
board to discuss the surrender and all that jazz.  But I'm worried 
about you, man."
	Mo shrugged.  "Hell, I'm doing fine here.  Sanis has telepathy, 
so we hang out in his head every day or so for an hour.  I tell him why 
humanity is so cool, and he seems to agree.  I may as well be on a 
diplomatic vacation.  This cell is not so bad."
	"Don't get too comfy," Dave said, leaning forward so he could 
pass Mo his PDA.  "Things aren't going so well for the Negaverse, and 
like most people in hard times, they're looking for someone to blame.  
They're looking to blame you."
	"No way," Mo snorted.  The little card-computer came to life and 
projected a small screen into the air.  Maury's smile faded as he saw 
the carrier explode, complete with quiet playback of Dave's insisting 
it would.  Then, he watched the screen fast forward an hour, to where 
they were docked and walking onto the Empyreal Battlecruiser.  
	A crowd of several thousands had assembled to greet the party.  
Only a few, however, actually seemed to have good things to say.  The 
moment Dave and the group of Sol citizens stepped out onto the walkway, 
signs were raised and shouts began in some alien language that Maury 
had heard sometimes from the guards.  Every once in a while, however, 
he could pick out something in English.  "Kill the Senshi or we will 
have war!"  "Senshi must die!" and variations on the like, including 
creative alien swearwords. 
	"Sanis is ordering a report," Maury said, passing the PDA back to 
the Omega Web leader.  "He knows we helped them, or at least we tried.  
He might be able to convince them."
	"Maybe," Dave said with a small smile.  "But do you have a plan 
if they don't like the truth?"
	Mo cleared his throat.  "Run?"
	Dave sighed and nodded.  "We got your message by the way.  I was 
about to come and rescue you.  Blow the shit out of these assholes if I 
had to."
	"Aw, Dave, I didn't know you liked me in that way," Mo grinned. 
	"I see why you did it," Dave said quietly.  "Miss Jupiter back 
home seems ready to come and get you herself, though.  I don't think I 
should go back without you."
	"Makoto," Mo's face lit up.  "How's she doing?  Shit, can I talk 
to her or something?"
	"She's missing you," Dave chuckled.  "And because it negatively 
charges her mood, everyone else around her misses you, too."
	Maury nodded, then sighed, leaning against the wall.  "I don't 
know man.  I just...I didn't like what I was doing.  I must have nuked 
a thousand people in those two, maybe three minutes.  And what did it 
accomplish?  Maybe scare them enough to accept my surrender instead of 
kill me right then and there.  Maybe all I had to do was ask, and all 
that was for nothing.  I don't know."
	Dave listened silently, but nodded.  
	"We're too powerful, Dave," he said.  "Everything is resting on 
our backs and it seems so different.  I miss the old days."
	"I miss," Dave said quietly, "feeling human."
	"Exactly!" Maury said, eyes wide.  "Exactly what I mean!  You 
don't have to sit around on your arse and watch football to be human.  
Shit, all this power does is turn us into weapons.  Regular people do 
good shit too, you know?
	"But it doesn't seem to be getting any better, either," Mo 
continued, pacing around the tiny cell.  "Just more and more power.  
Hell, I'd be dead now if I tried the shit I did last month even a year 
ago.  How the hell did I learn how to do that?  Practice, and anger.  
That's all it is.  And the worst part of it all is I don't know when it 
will stop." Mo sighed.  "If there's even a limit.  I don't know.  What 
if I just go plasma one day and stay like that?"
	"It's doubtful," Dave offered, but shrugged.  "Though, I suppose 
it's possible."
	"You know, I've felt better being locked away in this cell than I 
have been for a long time?" Mo said, looking at his collection of daily 
marks.  "Why is that, Dave?  Is it because I don't have to kill people 
anymore?  Or because I'm just lazy and don't want the responsibility?  
Or am I just fucking crazy and am just bitching because I could show up 
home and my dad wouldn't even recognize who I am anymore if he was 
still alive?" 
	"You're not crazy," Dave said quietly.  "We're all feeling this."
	"Then how the hell do we make it stop?" Mo shouted.  "Come on, 
man, you're the smartest motherfucker I know, and that doesn't have ANY 
fucking thing to do with your Omega Point bullshit.  Come up with 
something!"
	"I can't," Dave said.  "Not without causing all kinds of 
problems."
	"Then just DO it!" Maury said.  "Don't plan, just fucking do what 
works!  We'll figure out the shit-storm afterwards, but just help me 
feel like I'm not some Goddamned bomb just waiting to go off!"
	
	The door to the cell opened.

	Dave spun around in surprise.  Maury sighed.  "It's okay, it's 
just time for my meeting."
	Everything was silent.  
	Maury frowned, looking over to the door.  He nearly jumped out of 
his skin when he saw someone standing there.  Emperor Sanis looked from 
Maury to Dave, then back to Maury.  Shock was evident on his face.  
	"Uhm," Maury blinked.  "Sanis?  Why are you here?"
	The boy Emperor looked slightly angry.  "Who is this?"
	"It's a long story," Maury sighed.  
	Sanis nodded, walking into the cell, all but ignoring Dave.  
"Then please, start now."











	"Dammit, Dolesbur," Waddin said, stepping into the room.  "Have 
you been drinking again or is this from last time?"
	"What the hell is all that magic shit?" the old general said, 
ignoring the comment as he drained his glass full of something purple 
coloured.  "I thought this was going to be a nice, simple report, then 
we could get to the good stuff."
	Waddin sat down at the table, piling up the books and notes he 
had brought with him.  Dolesbur's quarters were frugal and efficient, 
and he deemed only the one table was necessary.  Waddin knew many 
people who weren't nearly as clean when sober as Dolesbur was when 
completely plastered and an inch way from passing out, and today was no 
exception.  The only evidence he wasn't on duty was the drink in his 
hand, reflecting in the pristine, military-clean shine of the table.  
	"Yean was having trouble deciphering some spells.  I brought my 
notes," Waddin said.  "I think the Emperor might be right on this one."
	"Oh?" Dolesbur chuckled.  "Well, I guess even fools can be right 
once in a while."
	"Sanis is no fool," Waddin said sharply.  "He's a brilliant boy 
running an antiquated position, that's all."
	"Sanis is a fool and I will say it despite whatever tests or 
puzzles you give him to complete," Dolesbur growled.  "If he would have 
accepted that rat's surrender and killed him on the spot, I would have 
held new respect for him.  Now, we have to dance around with these 
Humans instead of ruling them with the fist like we've done with every 
conquered race."
	"The emperor is young," Waddin said.  "And times are changing.  
Perhaps he's changing with them finally, instead of ruling like his 
father did."
	"I will not trade an ancient, bloodthirsty fool for a young 
pacifist fool to rule my Empire," Dolesbur said darkly.  "You know as 
well as any of us in the military that if the emperor shows weakness, 
the retaliation will come forth in an epic tide.  Grudges never thought 
of for three hundred years will start festering in people's hearts once 
they're given the idea that we are not in control."
	"As you've said many times," Waddin said carefully.  There was 
something in the man's voice he didn't like.  Something preparing for 
attack.  Something that snuck out despite the drunken slurs and 
grandstand voice.  "And I agree with you, which is why I'll work with 
you if it's necessary."
	"What do you mean, if it's necessary?" Dolesbur growled.
	Waddin reached up to his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose 
in frustration.  The pungent liquor smell in the air was giving him a 
headache, but he knew better to ask the old man to turn on a fan.  
	"I asked you," Dolesbur insisted.  "What do you mean?  Haven't we 
always talked about this?  Haven't we both agreed it is necessary?  All 
three of us know it is necessary.  The people's ratings are-"
	"Completely under my control," Waddin said quickly.  "They mean 
nothing and you know that.  Show them the same story, but spin it in 
the way we want, and I can make those ratings drop like a stone or 
skyrocket.  The only reason I've bothered is because I knew it 
necessary to get rid of the Emperor.  But the way he is handling this 
latest incident is puzzling me, and I'm not so sure anymore.  Can you 
PLEASE put that stuff away?  You know what that does to Yean."
	"What exactly was on his report?" 
	"Pardon?" 
	"The advanced copy he gave you," Dolesbur said quietly.  "What 
did it say?"
	Waddin tried to withhold the shock in his voice so he could 
present a tone of anger.  "How did you know about that?" 
	"What did it say?" Dolesbur growled. 
	"I think it's best that Yean be here first," Waddin said.
	"No, I'd like you to tell me first," Dolesbur said, leaning 
forward.  "Yean gets very...exacting sometimes.  His answers are truth 
without the interpretation of a Home World Man."
	"That's why the Emperor trusts him."
	"Of course!" Dolesbur rumbled.  "I would trust any man who gave 
me exactly what I needed without fault!  Even betraying his own desires 
in the process!  But this isn't about the Emperor getting what he 
wants, this is about a turning point in our history.  We would be fools 
not to act!"
	"The report cannot be forged," Waddin whispered angrily.  "You 
know the new security measures."
	"But you have an incomplete copy," Dolesbur said.
	Waddin's eyes went wide.  He hadn't even thought of the 
possibilities at the time.  Yean had been too distracted to seal the 
files he gave him.  "You can't be serious..."
	"I am," the old general said.  "Now.  What is on that bloody 
report!"
	"Nothing," Waddin said slowly, mind spinning from the conflicting 
thoughts in his head and the alcohol wafting in the air.
	Dolesbur saw the moment of indecision in Waddin's eyes and 
pressed forward.  "And?" 
	"Just indications that our predecessors to the Honour Guards were 
not exactly the most pleasant people to deal with in defeat," Waddin 
said, leaning back in his seat.  "I've learned that one of Beryl's old 
guard, namely one 'Jadeite the Defeated', tried to set up a civilian 
regime.  It backfired, of course, but it's interesting reading at the 
least."
	"And the Senshi?"
	"This," Waddin sighed, "is why I'm puzzled.  They came to help 
Jadeite.  Or rather, came at the request of Jadeite.  When it was clear 
that the old ways under Beryl had not faded, they left to spare him a 
civil war.  They caused a lot of the death we know about from the 
legends, but it seems that it was in either self defence, or trying to 
help the new regime.  Even worse, is that these accounts stem mostly 
from Jadeite himself in the form of his diary, and are confirmed by 
several of the highest ranking officials at the time.  I can't fathom 
why they'd run such an unpopular conspiracy with such dedication, so 
it's most likely all true."
	Dolesbur was silent, but took another sip of his drink, filling 
the air further with the fumes.  
	"In every documented case, even from Beryl's rule, the Senshi 
were never the aggressors," Waddin said, "but we've been led to hate 
them for what they did to Beryl.  All just because of popular opinion 
at the time.  Worst of all, it seems the troubles of the era were 
agricultural in nature.  They didn't have the greenhouses we have now, 
nor the off-world supplies.  All that unrest would have happened under 
Beryl's rule as exactly as it did under Jadeite."
	"Can the report prove any of this?" Dolesbur asked.  
	"Not by itself, but I assume Yean's final report has everything.  
He's bringing us a copy tonight to look over."
	Something dark raged behind Dolesbur's eyes.  A slow smile 
creased his lips, but before he could continue, the door opened and 
Yean glided through on his short legs.  
	"Greetings," the alien said softly, moving over to a spare space 
next to the table across from Dolesbur.  "Drinking?"
	Dolesbur responded by taking another swig of the potent liquor.  
	"Complete," he breathed, passing each of them a small data 
crystal.  
	"We were just discussing some of the earlier findings," Waddin 
said quickly.  "Can you summarize?"
	Yean's head nodded slowly.  "Senshi Sol is correct.  All findings 
point to one truth.  Jadeite attempting to start republic.  Senshi came 
to assist.  Remnants of the Beryl regime used them as...inspiration... 
for hostility."
	"Is this Prince Sol the same as the Prince Sol of before?" 
Dolesbur asked.
	"No," Yean shook his head gently.  "Much more power.  But 
conceivable, from reports, that visit to the home world happened early 
while he still grew in skill."
	"I'm not certain I understand their motives," Waddin sighed, 
turning to the general.  "Why help their former enemies?  What did they 
have to gain?"
	"Their survival," Dolesbur said with a smirk.  "Maybe they-"
	"Unlikely," Yean breathed.  "Senshi, even one thousand of their 
cycles past, organized and powerful.  Small Negaverse raiding parties 
would be no effect.  No mass-gates existed.  Records indicate the 
Senshi saved many people who tried to harm them."
	Waddin nodded.  "It's true," he said.  "There's no way to reverse 
the Shadow Fire spell.  Each victim takes on the curse willingly, and 
no spell I know of was designed to counter it.  They must have 
intervened themselves using powers we don't have access to."
	"How merciful," Dolesbur mocked. 
	"What about the republic?" Waddin asked suddenly.  "Did you learn 
anything more of that?"
	"Insufficient," Yean wheezed.  "Summarization: public response 
was poor."
	Waddin looked crushed.  
	"I'm sure it could be different now," Dolesbur said.  The same 
thin, dark smile was on his lips.  "If we were to have the 
opportunity."
	"Morning," Yean said, standing back up.  "I will give to Sanis.  
Tonight, you must read and prepare for any debate."
	Dolesbur stood and bowed his head.  "Thank you, Yean, for your 
dedication."
	Yean nodded, then slowly walked out of the room.  "Drinking," he 
wheezed, wobbling slightly.  "Please warn me next time.  Good night."
	The door closed behind him. 
	Dolesbur sat back down, looking at the tiny crystal in his 
massive hand.  Waddin ventured a look to the man.  "Well?"
	"Did you like hearing that your dreams for a republic have been 
tried before?" Dolesbur chuckled.  "And failed?  And not just failed, 
but so spectacularly that they named the man responsible 'The 
Defeated'?"
	"Your point?" Waddin said, voice topped with anger. 
	"My point is that when we get rid of Sanis, do you really think 
billions of our subjects will be willing to accept a plan mired in 
defeat?"
	Waddin said nothing. 
	"Failure means starvation to the outer rim.  Do you REALLY think 
they'll support the new republic if they hear even the tiniest rumour 
that republics fail miserably?" 
	The silence in the room was deafening.  Waddin let out a long, 
frustrated breath.  
	"If the Emperor receives this report and makes it public to 
support his courting the Senshi," Dolesbur said, voice low and 
dangerous, "it will simultaneously crush all we have been working for.  
Not only your dreams of a citizen-controlled Republic, but the military 
as well will suffer further under this new 'wise and kind' boy.  We 
won't have the strength to fight back when that Senshi finally does 
bring us the ruin I know he will."
	"What if the Senshi is..."
	"THEN IT WILL BE SOMETHING ELSE!" Dolesbur howled, slamming his 
glass on the table.  Only by virtue of military-grade dinnerware did it 
not shatter.  "If not the Senshi, then it will be our own people when 
they become restless.  Or another alien race not so weak as Yean's kin.  
An Empire must be strong!  A Republic must be JUST as strong!"
	"This is too much," Waddin whispered, mostly to himself.  "We 
can't fight the truth, Dolesbur.  It will come out eventually."
	Dolesbur leaned forward.  "No, it is not too much.  We have faced 
worse as a people, and we will continue to thrive if we FIGHT."  His 
features softened slightly and he reached over, placing a hand on 
Waddin's arm.  "I will believe in your republic.  I believe in it 
because I see what brilliant men can do with the freedom you have.  Oh, 
the republic would be mighty with even a council of two, if they were 
of your will!  And with a strong republic, my armies will be strong as 
well.  I do this for both of us!"
	"I..." Waddin looked at the crystal, then up at the general.  He 
had such fierce conviction in his eyes.  Anger.  Violence.  But 
conviction nonetheless.  "I can edit the file.  A few key points, I 
think."
	"Yes," Dolesbur said, his smile growing.
	"But, Yean..." Waddin said quietly, not daring to question what 
would happen next.  "He wouldn't support this.  The public and Sanis 
will believe him over us."
	Dolesbur nodded.  "Then you must decide now, what price you are 
willing to pay to see your glorious republic born."
	Waddin shook his head.  "No bloodshed.  I do not want-"
	"Then you will never see it born!" Dolesbur growled.  "The Empire 
stands in your way, and it will kill to keep itself in power!  Are you 
not equal in power?  Mightier in will?  Pure in intent?  The Empire is 
old and deceptive, but it will take knowledge and use of its own 
weapons to defeat it!"
	"But..."
	Dolesbur tapped his fingers impatiently on the smooth metal of 
the table.
	"Yean is our friend!  He's supported us countless times to even 
get this far!  We can't!" Waddin pleaded.  
	The old general sighed, standing and bringing his glass to his 
lips once more.  "I watched the last battle-carrier explode today."
	"What?" Waddin blinked.  "The Malachite?"
	"And you know, those rabble from Sol?  One of them had the gangue 
to warn me about the bomb they planted only moments before it went 
off," Dolesbur said, his voice low and growling like a landslide.  "No 
proof, naturally.  Nothing was left.  Sanis just scoffed.  Said it must 
have been a repair accident."
	"How many aboard?" Waddin asked, his own fears suddenly 
forgotten. 
	"Seven hundred innocents.  Another ten percent of our fleet," 
Dolesbur said, motioning to the drink in his hands.  "So yes, I've been 
toasting their passing."
	Waddin nodded, looking down at his hands.  They were clasped 
around the report crystal.  
	"Maybe he is changing," the old man said.  "But we'll all be dead 
by the time he becomes the Emperor we both want.  We need change.  Now.  
Before more 'repair accidents' occur and we find ourselves being ruled 
by the very people who surrendered to us.  The child is blind and 
trusting where your republic will be wise!  YOUR republic!  Merciful 
when it allows, and powerful when you will me to act!"
	"I," Waddin sighed, looking at the crystal.  "For the republic.  
Yes.  Alright."
	Dolesbur's grin widened.  "Drink to it," he said, passing the 
civilian vizier his glass. 
	"No, thank you," Waddin said with a weak smile.
	Dolesbur laughed.  "No, please.  You must."
	Waddin sighed, then shrugged, taking a sip.  The liquid, he 
noticed right away, did not taste like liquor.  "What is this?"
	"Antidote," Dolesbur said with a grave smile.  "To the poison in 
the air."
	Waddin coughed, raising his hand to his mouth.  "What!?"
	"Another sip, please," Dolesbur said, standing now without any 
signs of drunkenness.  "We are in this together now," he said.  "Yean 
will pass away peacefully in his sleep.  I would hate to lose two dear 
friends tonight, no matter how I want this Empire to change."
	"You knew?" Waddin said, taking another sip of the liquid.  "That 
I would agree?"
	"No," Dolesbur said.  "As I said, I am prepared to pay whatever 
cost to see your republic be born, even my dear friends."
	Waddin felt a shiver pass through him as the chemical countered 
whatever subtle poison had crept into his lungs.  It made it easier to 
think of Yean now that he knew his death would be painless.  "As am I," 
he told himself in the reflection of the glass in his hand.  

	"As am I."











Chapter 18











	"Want to order a cab?" Danielle offered as they stared out over 
the sunny grass stretching all around them.  The road was dirt, and 
lead to a small wood shack that they had just walked out of.
	"No," Ian said gravely, holding his stomach.  "I don't want to 
sit inside another machine.  Not for a while."
	Jimmy was, naturally, opposite.  "Are you KIDDING?  I want to do 
that again!  We got to use freaking M-"
	"Not out loud," Thomas said quickly as they started walking away 
from the building behind them.  They couldn't see it now, but there 
were security guns still tracking them as they left the Calgary Heavy 
Arms Development Centre.  "Miharu will kick our ass if we don't keep it 
quiet."
	"Come ON!" Jimmy begged, running around them as they walked down 
the road.  "Aren't you guys just a little excited?  We get to use toys 
that nobody else will TOUCH for ten years!"
	"If you read your security briefing," Beast advised sagely, "you 
would know that these were designed in tandem with New York Heavy Arms, 
and that the US already has a strike force of these same 'toys'."
	Jimmy sighed, deflating somewhat.  "Yeah, but...WE get to use 
them!  That was amazing!  Did you see Thomas throw that dumpster!?!  
And the flamethrower!  That was SO COOL!"
	"I didn't throw any dumpster," Thomas said coolly.  "You must 
have imagined it."
	"It was more like a push," Barlow smirked, reaching down to the 
grass to pull out a cat-tail to chew on.  "At a slightly upward angle."
	"God, I hate this top secret stuff," Jimmy sighed.  "I can't tell 
anyone?"
	"You can tell Evidence," Beast offered.  "He loves to hear about 
your toys.  You get very excited."
	"Thanks," Jimmy grumbled.  
	"They're just prototypes anyway," Barlow said.  "Just you wait 
until they're battle-ready.  You'll be able to show off the first time 
we have to fight some tanks or some infantry trucks."
	Jimmy's frown dissipated.  "You think so?"
	"If they let anyone take the controls, it will be you," Danielle 
offered with a smile.  "You did score the highest."
	"Well, naturally," Jimmy said, now strutting as he walked.  "I do 
have the most experience with combat simulators."
	"You mean your Playstation?" Thomas interjected. 
	"It's like a combat simulation," Jimmy insisted.  "Mister second-
last."
	Thomas cleared his throat at the mention of his less-than-stellar 
scores.  It was the only warning Jimmy had to raise a shield in time, 
stopping the flat side of Thomas' sword from 'accidentally' knocking 
his legs out from under him.  
	"Hey!" Jimmy grumbled, bouncing ahead from the attack. 
	"Mmm, must be more of that pushing phenomenon around here," 
Thomas said innocently.  "Maybe I'm developing magical powers finally!"
	"But it only works on garbage," Barlow chided.  "Dumpsters and 
Playstation gamers."
	"Fuck you, Wii-boy!" Jimmy grumbled at Barlow.  
	"Oh, it is ON..." Barlow grinned, pulling his sword free of its 
sheath.  It instantly transformed into a replica of the Master Sword 
from a certain popular game series involving green-clad heroes.  
	"Shit!  No!  Wait!  I didn't mean it!" Jimmy gasped, taking off 
into the field as Barlow chased him, cackling madly, hacking at the 
grass as if he was trying to find rupees.
	The rest of them watched the chase for a while.  Jimmy finally 
got the nerve to stand his ground, and the two engaged in some light 
sparring.  Between Barlow's sword being dull, and the shields Jimmy 
could create, it was safe enough that they didn't run after to pull 
them apart.  
	"Videogame-system rivalry," Beast said, shaking his head.  "The 
only thing scarier and more powerful than racism, sexism, and religious 
intolerance combined."
	The walk back into Calgary was pleasant enough.  Wind from the 
west blew over them, keeping the summer sun's heat at a comfortable 
level, and they stopped just before the city limits to relax at the 
edge of the river running through the city.  The water was lazy and 
cool and far too tempting to resist dangling their feet into.  
	"I feel like a kid again," Danielle sighed happily as they 
lounged on the riverbank.  
	"What are you, twenty?" Barlow smirked.  "You're still a kid.  
I'm hitting thirty next year."
	Thomas watched them talking and joking, completely at peace for 
the first time in months.  When he realized it, however, he suddenly 
felt a pang of sadness come through him.  Silently, he stood up and 
began walking down the river a ways.  
	Beast saw this, but stayed behind.  The others seemed to get the 
hint and stayed put as well.  
	"Is he okay?" Danielle asked quietly.  
	Ian nodded.  "Remember when July died?  It's the same for him 
when he lost his kid brother.  But he's taking it well."
	"When one is at peace," Beast said as if it should be obvious to 
all, "it is an easy temptation to want to share it with others.  With 
time, he will simply be at peace and the memory of his brother will 
bring him no more regret."
	"It's like when Nintendo lost Square to Sony," Jimmy said, 
copying the sage tone.  "Soon, gamers realized that it was only natural 
that the superior platform was-"
	"Don't make me hit you again," Barlow interrupted. 
	"Guys, come on," Ian said angrily.  "This is serious.  We should 
do something nice for the guy."
	"I say we get him a PS3," Jimmy offered with a grin to Barlow. 
	Barlow grinned, drawing his sword once more.  "I'm going to stab 
you now."
	Ian and Danielle sighed as the two leapt up and began running 
around once more.  Beast watched with amusement.  "They're getting very 
skilled," he commented.  
	"Beast," Danielle said, scooting over to the man.  "You're pretty 
good at reading people," she said, earning an amused raised eyebrow 
from both Beast and her brother.  "Can you think of anything we can do 
to help?"
	Beast thought about it for a moment, looking past her to where 
Thomas was walking by a group of small trees next to the water.  "He 
has had enough distraction to last a lifetime," he said.  "Perhaps 
giving him room to be solitary so he may come to terms with himself 
would be best."
	Danielle looked downtrodden by the idea.  "So, basically we just 
leave him alone?"
	"Yes," Beast bowed his head.  
	She looked at Beast, then to Ian.  Then, Danielle let out a 
frustrated sigh and stood up.  "That's the problem with you males.  
Always thinking the strong-silent thing is best.  It's not.  In fact, 
it's very annoying when someone cares and they want to help." Her face 
brightened with a smile.  "I'm going to go talk to him."
	Ian turned to Beast, who was smirking.  "What?"
	"She enjoys being empowered," Beast explained.  "At first, I 
didn't think she would handle the Missionaries so well, but now she is 
growing to like it."
	"Yeah, the free toys and the respect," Ian said, looking towards 
Jimmy and Barlow, who had dropped their swords and were now throwing 
clumps of dirt and mud from the river at each other.  
	"Not quite," Beast said.  "She thinks often of your home town, 
and she feels bad that she was used by your other sister as she was.  
This chance to control her destiny, no matter how scared of it she is, 
is something she beginning to treasure," he turned to Ian.  "As are 
you."
	"It's scary," Ian whispered, looking around.  "I mean, they say 
I'm the only one.  What if I get hit by a car and die and there's no 
more healing magic ever?"
	"Then we will mourn you and be sad for a great loss," Beast said.  
"But life will go on and doctors and lesser mages will still save 
lives."
	Ian smirked.  "So you're saying I'm not important?"
	"Of course you are," Beast laughed warmly.  "But even if a driver 
makes a fatal error whilst navigating the rain-slick highway, or a 
there is a proverbial bullet with your name on it in some criminal's 
weapon, you should take comfort in the knowledge that the universe will 
continue to unfold exactly as it should."
	Ian said nothing, but nodded. 
	"Do you truly want this?" Beast asked.
	"Yes," Ian said quickly, then looked away.  "I mean, I just hope 
I can help.  Michael...he told me people like us weren't meant to just 
sit around and do nothing.  Not because of some higher purpose, he 
said, but because it is in our nature.  When I look hard enough, I can 
see what he means, but today?  Today was-"
	"Today," Beast agreed.  "Being strapped into a walking tank isn't 
what you were expecting.  Is it?"
	Ian nodded, then looked over at Barlow and Jimmy.  "But they 
loved it.  Hell, Jimmy's probably saving up for one right now so he can 
drive it to work."
	Beast knew that Ian had scored the lowest on the range tests, but 
now, when he could concentrate, he could feel just how useless the boy 
felt at the controls.  It had been a fun diversion, but once more, it 
forced them to consider the fact that they could be deployed on the 
front lines if the war with Ottawa, or a future enemy, ever became 
serious enough.
	"Not every soldier will fight on the front lines," Beast said.  
"You are not someone who they would drop into a camp of enemies with 
orders to kill.  Rather, your gifts allow you to save those who come 
back, and to fight alongside them to assist."
	"And you?" Ian asked.  "No offence, but I doubt some terrorist is 
going to think twice about shooting you even if you can read his mind."
	"Maybe," Beast nodded.  "But maybe I can discover why he is 
trying to shoot me, and in the small moments between luck and this 
training, I may survive long enough to tell others so that nobody else 
might die.  I can live with that, no matter how many maybes and mights 
try to stop me."
	Ian sighed, then nodded.  "Is there anything you don't know?"
	"Calculus," Beast said seriously.  "I could never get calculus."
	For a moment, Ian just stared at the man.  Then, he laughed.  "I 
could teach you."
	"No thank you," Beast said, hurriedly.  "All those imaginary 
numbers give me a headache." A smile crossed his lips, just barely 
visible behind his beard.  "Besides, if I knew everything, I'm certain 
life would no longer be as much fun."
	Ian laid back on the grassy slope of the riverbank and looked up 
into the pure blue sky.  "I wonder if there will be others like me and 
my sisters.  I'd like to see if our powers are the same, or maybe 
they're better at healing and I can learn from them.  All I can do now 
is practice on my own."
	"This is, perhaps, the best career for that goal," Beast said.  
"Look how we were all brought together in less than a season.  I never 
believed I would trust anyone as I do Miharu, or you and the others."
	Ian smiled.  "Beast, you're getting all sappy."
	"I've been known to shed a tear or two during Bambi," Beast said.
	Ian raised an eyebrow. 
	"Seriously," Beast said, though Ian suspected he was trying to 
hide a grin.  "Powerful stuff."
	The boy laughed, but stopped as he sensed something strange in 
the air.  "Do you smell that?"
	Beast looked around, then shrugged.  "Nothing extraordinary."
	"Something's burning," Ian said, looking around quickly but 
seeing no fire.
	"Our man Barlow smokes on occasion," Beast said, but seeing 
Barlow and Jimmy still mud-slinging, realized it was unlikely he was 
doing so at the time.  "Is this because of the Bambi reference?"
	"Shh!" Ian whispered, standing up slowly.  He unconsciously began 
reaching for his sword.  Tall grass obscured his view all around, and 
the laughing and shouting from Jimmy was making it difficult to hear 
anything.  
	Beast stood slowly as well, making as little sound as he could.  
He pulled the spear off his back, but resisted uncapping the blade 
until he too smelt something on the air.  Something like burning paper 
and an unpleasant hint of copper ash.
	"When I was in Vancouver," Beast said quietly, now reaching up to 
uncap the weapon, "I was witness to a terrible crime where several 
children were burnt alive in a house-fire."
	Ian crouched down, using the grass as cover as he drew his sword.  
"I smell it too," he whispered.  "Burnt blood."
	They both began searching the area but it would be easy for 
someone to hide if they wanted to.  Ian began looking at ground level 
through the unkempt field, but the only movement seemed to be caused by 
the wind.  Beast kept low, but began to slowly press forward with his 
spear, parting large swaths of grass as he went.  
	There was a strange feeling in the back of Ian's mind, tickling 
his brain and trying to remember something.  "Where have I felt this 
before?  Something about this smell," he told himself under his breath.
	Something moved to his right as Beast continued tapping his spear 
through the grass.  At first, Ian was going to ignore it, thinking it 
Beast, but then, he looked over at the source of the smell.  
	Harvey sat there, looking at him with equal surprise.  Only a few 
blades of grass between them.  Realization sunk in quickly, and Ian 
reacted first out of skill.  His sword slashed easily through the grass 
and into the man's thigh.  Harvey ignored the wound and lashed out with 
his power, aiming for Ian's ribs.  Something stopped the magic from 
taking hold, however, and both men realized it was the blade that Ian 
held in front of him that had stopped the attack.  
	No words were spoken as Harvey growled and tackled Ian, spilling 
blood from his various injuries just by moving.  Ian felt ill as he 
realized gangrene had already set in to most of this man's body, and 
what his mind had been trying to remind him of was the decaying half-
corpses from Hushington almost a half-year ago.  
	Ian tried to level his sword in time to stop of deflect the 
charge, but they were already rolling back towards the water, his sword 
bouncing free of his hand and sticking into the soft earth behind them.  
	"Fix me!" Harvey hissed, holding Ian tight as they rolled to a 
stop.  "Now!  Or you die!" he said, pressing his hand against the boy's 
side.  
	Ian looked at the man.  He was dead.  Decaying.  Only the gauze 
and determination kept him together now.  For a moment, he wondered if 
this man was indeed a zombie.  The idea sparked a plan, and he grabbed 
Harvey's hand, letting a short jolt of power flow into him.
	Harvey's eyes rolled back inside his skull as he felt the healing 
magic flow through him.  It was incredible, feeling months of decay 
suddenly start to heal and stitch and clot.  Then, just as suddenly as 
it started, it stopped, and he felt his arm being grabbed in an 
aggressive way. 
	"Wh-" Harvey gasped, then saw the boy palm-punch his stomach, 
spin around, and haul him up over his shoulder into the air.  A second 
later, he was in the river, back hitting hard on the rocks below the 
shallow surface.  
	Ian had no time to admire his throw (Mr Bruce would have been 
proud), and began to run for his sword again.  Unfortunately, Harvey 
recovered from the throw and lashed out with his magic once more to 
disintegrate a ligament in the boy's foot.  Ian crashed to the ground 
painfully, only a few feet away from his sword.  
	Harvey took one step out of the water before he realized he was 
surrounded.  He had been so focused on getting Ian that the other five 
were now holding their weapons to his throat and ribcage.  Harvey 
froze.  
	"Go ahead," Thomas growled.  "Try your magic.  But you'd better 
be able to get all of us at once."
	Harvey looked from Thomas to each of the Missionaries in turn.  
None of them were frightened.  All of them were ready to strike him 
down.  A shield had appeared around Ian as well, with Jimmy frowning 
intently.  "Don't you dare," he said angrily.  
	"I say we gut him," Barlow grinned, letting his sword slowly 
shift into a deadlier and sharper point.  
	Danielle shook her head.  "He doesn't deserve a quick death," 
Danielle said angrily.  "Fifty years of prison sounds much more 
fitting."
	"Ahh, I hate to admit it, but that does sound pretty good, 
doesn't it, Harvey?" Barlow chuckled.  "Tell you what, you can spend 
your days trying to break apart twenty tons of cement and rebar.  How 
fun will that be?"
	Harvey swallowed back the worry in his throat, trying not to show 
these punks that they had won.  He felt better.  Whole.  But the wounds 
he had received even the week before were still there.  His arm still 
hung useless at his side.  Even in his wildest fantasies, he knew he 
wouldn't survive this encounter.  "I can still kill one of you," he 
warned, trying to show force.
	"Not with five magic swords messing with your power, asshole," 
Barlow said.  "Now, are you going to go with the lady's suggestion?  Or 
do I get to paint the ground red with your sick, murdering guts?"
	"It may be in your best interest to treat both options 
seriously," Beast warned in a dark voice.  "You will cause no more 
death.  How you choose to reach this goal will determine if your own 
life will continue as well."
	To their mutual surprise, Harvey ducked under their weapons, 
causing deep gashes in his face as he did.  Then, he bolted under 
Beast's legs, heading for the river.  
	Danielle lashed out with her tonfa and a dark rip of dead flesh 
appeared on Harvey's back.  Still feeling no pain, Harvey barely 
noticed and kept running all out, climbing a steep hill overlooking the 
river.  Beast readied his spear, and in a single, massive step, hurled 
it towards Harvey like a javelin.  It hit Harvey's ankle, piercing 
through easily and staking into the ground, but the man just roared 
effort and ripped his leg free using his momentum.  He stumbled down 
the hill and splashed into the river a moment later.  
	Ian had patched himself up enough to limp, and all six of the 
Missionaries stood over the hill, watching a bloody Harvey swimming 
down the current as fast as he could. 
	Barlow sighed, patting Ian on the shoulder.  "That asshole just 
doesn't feel pain."
	Beast nodded as he walked over to his spear.  Bone and muscle 
were left behind on the tip.  It had probably shattered his ankle when 
the blade went through.  "An incredible will.  I sensed that he didn't 
even have to focus to ignore the pain."
	"It wasn't my doing," Ian said, sitting down to focus healing 
himself.  "He looked so damn happy when I tried zapping him.  I guess 
he's not a zombie after all."
	Danielle looked much more relaxed suddenly.  "Did you see his 
arm?  Thomas?  Was that you?"
	"He's still not patched up from last time," Tom said sheathing 
his sword.
	"And we are," Barlow grinned.  "Which means he probably can't go 
into a hospital."
	"Well, duh," Jimmy shrugged.  "The cops would see him the moment 
he tried.  We have bulletins everywhere."
	"Which means the only healing he'll get for that foot," Beast 
said, turning around to Ian.  "Is with our young life-mage here."
	Danielle turned to Thomas.  "But how did he know we'd be here?"
	Thomas said nothing, but he could feel the book of matches in his 
coat pocket.  "No idea," he said quickly.  "Must have been a lucky 
guess."











Chapter 19











	Sunlight brought consciousness, which in turn, brought pain.  
Even so, Nathan did not stir or make a sound until he was sure of his 
surroundings.  
	His legs felt as if they had been meticulously diced up by 
razorblades that had been scraped across sidewalk to dull and dent 
their edges.  When he finally did open his eyes, he was more relieved 
than he dared to admit to himself that he saw them intact and in white 
bandages instead of salsa-bowls.  
	"Hey," Jean whispered, startling Nathan.  
	Nathan turned to the camera man, who was sitting across from him 
in the tiny room.  "What happened?" he said hoarsely, then coughed, 
looking around for water. 
	Jean stood and brought him a cup from a small table set in the 
wall of the oval-shaped cell.  "I don't really know, actually.  We all 
just ended up here instead of where the others were."
	"How long?" Nathan gasped after a first greedy sip of water.
	"Two days," Jean said tiredly, leaning back down against the 
wall.  There was only one bed in the room, and Nathan was on it.  "I 
think Jess and Tambre are in the next room.  I can hear them sometimes 
at night talking."
	"What about our captors?" Nathan said, looking around with 
renewed interest.  He never felt so glad to see his backpack and gun-
belt as that moment.  
	"Yeah, they left us our stuff," Jean explained as Nathan 
carefully attempted standing.  His legs were weak with pain, but intact 
enough that he could walk.  "Not a lot of good it will do us, though.  
Some kind of magic is barring the door."
	"Do they feed us?" Nathan asked, checking his ammo supply.  Two 
clips of twelve bullets were still in his belt, along with ten bullets 
in each gun.  His ammo box was nowhere to be found, and he realized he 
had left it in his pack with the scout-drone.
	"Once a day.  Food and water.  Some big guy comes through the 
door, but I see three of those cherub things out in the hall when the 
door is open."
	Nathan sighed, remembering how difficult it had been to get a 
solid shot on their faces.  Three of them were too much to hope for his 
skill to come out on top of their claws.  "Any idea where we are?"
	"No," Jean said worriedly.  "The weird thing is my compass isn't 
working here.  Also, every time I try to turn on the transmit antenna 
on my camera pack, it shorts out with static.  I can't get anything 
through to Michael, but I'm working on a way around it."
	Nathan was impressed, and Jean smirked at the look on his face.
	"This isn't the first time I've been in a prison," Jean said with 
a touch of pride in his voice.  "In fact, I've been part of a few 
escapes myself.  Successful ones, I might add.  You don't earn the pay 
I do by interviewing mayors and civil workers all the time."
	"No man in Eden or Earth I'd rather be stuck with, then," Nathan 
said with a nod.  
	Jean sighed and reached over to his camera, checking it over 
absentmindedly.  Nathan suspected he had done this ritual status check 
repeatedly over the last two days to pass the time.  "I figure we need 
a distraction or something.  I could always rig up some flash-grenade 
charges with my spare bulbs, but that will probably just annoy those 
cherub things.  Any ideas?"
	"Any clue on where the exit is?" Nathan asked, pulling himself up 
to the window, but it was too high for him to reach.  The light itself 
seemed too white and foggy to even discern if it was morning or 
evening. 
	"Well, if I can hear our guards snoring, that must mean this 
place isn't too big," Jean offered.  "The walls seem stone, so my guess 
is a cave.  Up would be out."
	"And the light means we're not too far down," Nathan agreed.  
"Good."
	There was a strange sound at the door, like someone pulling the 
plug on a neon sign.  A buzzing that Nathan hadn't consciously noticed 
was suddenly absent, and the door shimmered slightly as it opened.  
	As Jean had said, a large man in black pants and a black short-
coat came with two trays of food in his hands.  Beyond him, the marine 
could see three of the Aszap Cherubim with their fearsome white-light 
gazes peering down the hall and into the room.  
	The door closed again, and the large man handed a tray politely 
to each man.  "I'm pleased to see you are awake," he said to Nathan.  
	Nathan said nothing, refusing the tray until the man was forced 
to put it down next to him on the bed.  
	"Your injuries should be healed in a day or two," the man 
mentioned casually, looking the marine over.  "May I ask what those 
metal blocks are?"
	"My rank," Nathan lied.  "They indicate status in my military."
	The man seemed intrigued.  "Very odd, but then I suppose you must 
find many things about our world odd.  I would look forward to talking 
with you when the Mistress allows it, if you wish."
	"The mistress?" Nathan asked.
	"Mistress Marish," he said quietly.  "But I must leave for now.  
I wish you good health.  The Mistress would like to see you at your 
finest before she studies you."
	Nathan felt something cold settle in his guts as the man bowed 
and walked towards the door.  "Study?"
	"Yes," the man smiled brightly.  "Do not be fooled by our 
similarities, sir.  I'm sure we are quite different, and the Mistress 
will want to learn all she can before you are disposed of.  I suspect 
you have a long life ahead of you, if you cooperate, of course."
	"Of course," Nathan said, dryly. 
	The man seemed encouraged by this agreement, and bowed again 
before opening the door and leaving the two Earth men to their meals.  
A second later, the subtle humming returned to the door and it 
shimmered once more.  
	"Marish," Nathan said quietly as he and Jean ate.  "Fiss 
mentioned that name.
	"Oh?  Anyone important?"
	"Yeah," Nathan said, then frowned.  "But she's supposed to be 
dead." 











	Jesminder awoke to see a young woman reading next to her.  
	She was small.  Maybe five feet tall with shoes.  Twig-like in 
stature, and barely a curve in her hips or chest to indicate she was a 
woman at all.  Despite these features, however, her eyes showed her 
true age and ability as they scanned over a thick book laid out on the 
pleats of her blue sundress.  She looked like a college student 
dressing up like a grade-schooler for fun.  
	Long, black hair framed her face and fell onto the book she was 
reading.  Had she not been shackled to a stone wall, Jess would have 
wondered if she had come across a Lolita Cosplay convention.  Even 
Tambre, tied to the seat next to her, seemed to fit the part.  Barely a 
woman, yet dressed in the most extravagant dress.  Perhaps it was her 
imagination, but Jesminder swore that Tambre's stomach had grown to 
stress her gown outwards in a gentle bulge.
	The woman sitting next to her hadn't moved, completely engrossed 
in her book.  Jess looked at the shackles binding her arms and legs, 
searching for a weak point.  The metal was old and rusty, and she could 
see a thin trail of blood coming down from her right wrist from a 
ragged-feeling scrape.  Each manacle was attached to a chain that went 
up to the roof, forcing her hands to stay at shoulder level.  She could 
likely feed herself but that was the extent of her range.  
	Her legs, on the other hand, were attached to each other by a 
long length of chain.  The chain, in turn, looped through a metal ring 
at the foot of her seat.  She smiled and began slowly inching her feet 
towards the woman, hoping to reach her with a kick.  
	One of the links of chain made a sound as it passed over the 
metal ring, however, and the woman was startled, as if she had 
forgotten about the two prisoners next to her.  
	"Good morning," she said quietly, looking up at Jesminder.  
	Jess said nothing.  
	"Rudeness," Marish whispered, closing her book.  "This is rule 
number two.  When you are rude or disrespectful to anyone here in the 
lab, you will be punished based on the severity of your digression."
	Jess looked away, staying silent.  
	"Understandably," Marish said, standing up and walking over to 
Tambre, "this is a big shock for you.  Being whisked away from your 
meaningless life to be part of something as big as the Word itself.  I 
can forgive you for only so long, however.  My mercy has limits, just 
as time is tight, and we must show results."
	"Results?" Jess said finally.  "Like infecting innocent women 
with abominations?  Tell me, what other 'results' are you looking for, 
besides rape?"
	Marish' smooth features finally twisted in a glimpse of anger.  
"This limit to my mercy.  You have just crossed it.  I will show you no 
more."
	"What was it?" Jess smirked.  "Calling what you do rape?  No, 
that doesn't seem like something you'd actually consider.  Maybe you 
don't even think of her as a person, so the act is easier to accept.  
No, I think it's calling those sick fucking cherub things an 
abomination.  Is that it?  Those things that aren't even angels?  Sick 
pathetic attempts at-"
	Marish lunged at Jess, fist outstretched in anger.  Jess welcomed 
the attack and rolled her jaw with it.  The punch was painful, but 
nothing compared to the pain she had felt in the past on jobs like 
this.  Then, when the woman stumbled closer, following through, she 
kicked out as hard as she could, earning a wonderfully painful-sounding 
snap as her foot slammed into Marish's calf.
	Screaming in pain, Marish fell to the floor and scooted 
backwards, dragging her right foot, which now seemed to be set in an 
unnatural angle.  
	Jess ignored the stinging sensation on her cheek and smiled 
brightly at the woman.  "Wow, that looks broken.  You should probably 
get that checked by a doctor."
	"How DARE you!" Marish screamed, cradling her leg with tears 
running free down her cheeks.  They mixed with snot and saliva as she 
spat out the words.
	"You've already crossed the limits of MY mercy, bitch," Jesminder 
said, kicking dramatically, causing the chains to rattle and the woman 
on the floor to wince.  "If you touch me or Tambre again, I'll make 
sure you wont be able to scurry away like a lame cooker-plug and finish 
you off!"
	"You vile, disgusting woman!" Marish sobbed.  "You aren't fit to 
receive my gifts!"
	"Best news I've heard all day," Jess smiled, ignoring the taste 
of blood in her mouth.  "How about you take a couple steps closer so I 
can rip that leg off for you.  It must be fairly uncomfortable, just 
hanging there, limp like that."
	There was a sound, like a horse walking on stone, but it seemed 
lighter and strangely mechanical.  Marish let out a little sob and 
something appeared in the doorway.  The Aszap Cherub was huge, and Jess 
found her smile and all sense of herself fade when the giant thing 
looked at her from behind its white-hot glowing mask.  She could feel 
the waves of heat even from across the room. 
	Marish all but ignored the two women on the bench and whimpered a 
little plea to the thing.  It strode over to her in less than a 
heartbeat, reached out with its claws, and slashed her leg off at the 
knee.  
	Jesminder and Tambre both stared in shock as Marish let out 
another pitiful sound, clearly trying to restrain herself.  Then, the 
cherub leaned down, and its mask began to part like a butterfly's 
cocoon splitting to reveal newly formed wings.  
	This thing was no butterfly.  Its face was horrible.  Like a burn 
victim's head that had shrunk in the wash two sizes too small for where 
it connected to the beast's neck.  Its mouth opened and it bared tiny, 
diamond-like teeth that smoked when they touched the flesh of the 
severed leg.  Slowly, deliberately, it began to eat her leg, pausing 
only to fit the awkward size into its tiny jaws.  Bone seemed not to 
give the thing any resistance, and it eagerly licked up the gore and 
blood from the floor with a long, lizard tongue.  
	Jess finally had to turn away as the double horror of the sight 
and smell reached her and she found her legs shaking.  
	When its meal was finished, the cherub moved its clawed hand over 
Marish's stump, wings spreading awkwardly on its back.  When Jess and 
Tambre looked again, Marish was standing back up on a whole, unbroken 
leg, and the Cherub's grotesque face was sliding back into the liquid 
light of its mask.
	Marish was still too furious to speak, but she hastily dried her 
tears and snot with her shirt.  Without words, Jess could tell that the 
Cherub now knew who was to responsible for his mistress' pain.
	"Oh, God, no..." Jess cried as the thing roared in her mind and 
extended its claws.
	She hadn't even realized a claw had pierced her jeans and flesh 
until she saw the thin, bone-white razor slip down her leg.  She 
grimaced, trying not to show pain, but the attempt was foiled when the 
thing's face appeared again, piercing through the liquid light of its 
mask, and spat something black into the wound.  
	It felt like liquid fire and Jess shook madly, biting her lip and 
trying not to scream as the Aszap withdrew its claw, letting the cut 
close with a wet squish.  It sealed as if it had been cauterized by 
fire. 
	Jess didn't recover her voice in time to ask what had happened to 
her leg, but Marish had such a self-satisfied smirk on her face that 
she doubted the girl would have answered.  She and the cherub walked 
out of the room without another word.  











	Fiss paced back and forth as he saw more and more people waiting 
for the word to advance.  Beavis sat on his shoulder, scanning the 
crowd as well for some signs of their missing friends.  
	Battra leaned against the wheel well of the archangel cart, arms 
folded patiently.  "It will be sun up in less than an hour," he 
advised.  "Unless we want to get caught in the midst of a dominion nest 
when they are starving for dinner, we should make way soon."
	"Thank you," Fiss grumbled.  "I am aware of the time."
	"We can't leave them," Beavis whispered in his ear.  
	"Nathan and Jess know the path, Beavis," Fiss said, walking over 
to inspect one of the new carts they had 'found'.  Almost a dozen of 
them were waiting at the edge of the forest, abandoned and full of food 
and medicine.  The only hint that they had been delivered by Michael 
was a can of Jolt stashed under the seat of one.  "They'll follow if 
they can."
	"Bullshit," Beavis chided.  "You know somebody took them.  There 
was no way twenty people got through before and after without so much 
as a hiccup, but they're nowhere to be found.  I bet it was Battra.  I 
bet you know it too."
	"No way," Fiss whispered.  "You can't just add names to a gate 
spell like that."
	"Or are you just thinking he isn't as good as you?" Beavis 
frowned. 
	Fiss sighed, looking around the carts and tying up loose straps 
as he went.  "Beavis, I was taught by an infallible holy book written 
by the guys who invented the language.  Even if Battra had the same 
privilege, then that means we're equal in script abilities.  That's 
all."
	Beavis regarded his Senshi with a cold, long look. 
	"I'm serious," Fiss whispered harshly.  "Don't you think I would 
have gutted the man if I thought he messed with the gate?"
	The tiny hedgehog finally gave a nod.  "Fine.  But we still can't 
leave.  If we get too far ahead, they'll have to go through this 
dominion infested country on their own.  Mister Maysonet doesn't have 
that many bullets, I'd wager."
	"So what do you want me to do?" Fiss grumbled.  "Sit on the edge 
of the forest and wait for them to catch up with us?  Funny thing is 
that we used those gates so the bad guys would have to do the same 
thing."
	"God, I don't know," Beavis said angrily.  "Yes, I agree the 
group should move on, but WE can go back and check it out.  Wouldn't 
take more than three, maybe four days the way you fly."
	Fiss shook his head.  "We've lost too damn many.  Beavis, the 
last quick tally puts us at over ten thousand missing or dead.  I have 
to see this through."
	Beavis sighed.  "Then I'll go.  Let me go and I'll take a look at 
the script and see what I can figure out."
	"Anything wrong, Lord Fiss?" Battra called out from the other 
side of the cart they were 'inspecting'.
	"Almost ready!" Fiss shouted back, then turned to Beavis, picking 
him off of his shoulder.  "I won't lose you to this mess," he frowned.  
	"And yet, I still have free will," Beavis smirked, looking up at 
the Knight from his hands.  "And you agree with me.  I should go.  I'm 
slower here on Eden, but I'm something, right?  And, most importantly, 
I can still whip you in a race."
	Fiss looked around and quickly reached into his coat's penguin-
space pocket.  "I still have Jess' backup receiver in my pack," he 
whispered.  "Take my PDA, get a picture of the script if it still 
exists and send to me on channel blue.  Then, scout around if you see 
any clues, but don't mount a rescue if they're in trouble.  That's my 
job, got it?"  
	Beavis nodded as Fiss pulled out a spare piece of gauze from a 
medical kit on the nearby cart and hastily tied the pocket-sized 
computer to his back.  "This must look really silly," he smirked. 
	"Extremely," Fiss grinned at the tiny animal with a pocket 
computer strapped to him.  
	"Wish me luck," Beavis winked, then began to glow. 
	"I hate luck."
	Beavis chuckled.  "Yeah, but I'm old fashioned.  Wish me luck, 
dammit."
	"Good luck, dammit," Fiss smiled, placing the hedgehog down on 
the ground.  	
	Beavis zipped off without another word, disappearing deep into 
the forest that they had just spent the last two weeks in.
	Fiss turned around and walked out of the row of supply carts.  
Battra was standing by the lead cart with a curious expression on his 
face.  "Everything in order, Lord Fiss?" he asked.
	"I'll have to smack Michael when we get there," Fiss smiled.  
"Some of the carts were packed all wrong." 
	"I look forward to seeing his reaction," Battra said honestly.  
	Fiss helped the older man up onto the lead cart and then jumped 
up to take a seat himself.  "Call the advance."
	Battra nodded, but did nothing.  "Sir, by our earlier 
conversation, I was not hoping that you'd leave your three friends 
behind."
	"Of course," Fiss nodded. 
	"We could stay here another few days if you'd like," Battra 
offered.  "A lucky scout team might even be able to find a suitable 
gate area."
	"We've already gone over that possibility," Fiss said.  "It's too 
rocky and dangerous to hold a spell for that long.  We will advance 
normally."
	Battra nodded and stood, drawing a spell with his hands in mid 
air.  Fiss could see that the old mage was pleased.  He could make the 
hard choices after all.  
	When Battra spoke, his voice was amplified to the level of a jet 
engine exploding into life.  "HOUSE OF FISS!" he shouted back to the 
crowd.  "ADVANCE!"
	Fiss watched the first few feet of earth beneath them pass as the 
dominions ahead leapt into action.  He had never felt so horrible at 
the start of a journey as he did at that moment.  
	"I'm sure," Battra said, sitting back down next to him, "your 
friends will be fine."
	"Yeah.  Me too," Fiss said grimly, watching the trees grow 
smaller as they continued onward.  











Chapter 20











	It had been difficult to see Yean dead.  His already frail body 
seemed to possess even less substance when he was found laying 
peacefully on his bed.  Had the comparison been relevant in the 
Negaverse, Waddin would have thought of his friend as a deflated 
balloon.  
	There was a cry of outrage from the Bansicche World and several 
who held high positions in the civilian government, but the autopsy 
revealed no foul play that could be traced to any specific attacker.  
Dolesbur had chosen his method of attack with unerring precision.  The 
poison used was popular among the Emperor's elite.  Not that anyone 
would dare to suggest it publicly, of course.
	They would be traveling back to the Negaverse to bury Yean as per 
tradition, and it would take several hours to create the mass-gates 
needed to transport the Empyreal Battlecruiser and her support ships 
back across the cosmos.  In this time, they held the funeral and the 
public address.  
	Waddin played along as best he could.  All he needed to remember 
was that the Empire forced this decision.  It was the Empire that was 
to blame.  The Empire would pay for Yean's death.  Every time he said 
this to himself, it got a little bit easier.  A little bit steadier.  
Tears and wet eyes finally slowed, and guilt transformed into an aura 
of determination to blame the guilty.
	Confusion and rumour guided nearly ten thousand people to the 
public square deep within the bowels of the Battlecruiser, even before 
the announcement on the ship's network of visual and audio kiosks 
displayed that there would be an important speech that afternoon.  
	Some information had been 'leaked' that a new report had been 
released, condemning the Senshi to certain death.  A small number of 
rumours declared the opposite, but agreed that it sounded farfetched.  
Others began to say that the speech was related to the destruction of 
the Malachite, or suspicions related to Yean's death involving everyone 
from the field commanders to the Emperor Himself.  
	By the time Waddin and Dolesbur took their places on the stage 
high above the public square, there were nearly twenty thousand eager 
spectators, listening for the first juicy word from their leaders 
mouths. 
	More than any poison, drug or sensation, the image in Waddin's 
eyes as he stood and looked over his people forever cemented his 
resolve.  
	"My people..." Waddin announced in a hard voice.  Hard from the 
tears shed for a dear friend.  Hard from the resolve to do what he had 
to do.  Those two words, like the image, acted like cement to countless 
others in the crowd.
	Dolesbur could barely contain his grin behind his full military-
dress collar.  He bowed his head as Waddin spoke, adding to the effect 
on the people gathered in front of them.  The hardened, merciless 
military genius was now bowing his head in respect to this man and 
their fallen comrade.  Legends and tales about him weeping silently 
would ring on far past his death, never knowing about his smile hidden 
behind the bars and medals of his rank and bloody victories.  
	"We return home today," Waddin continued after he was sure he had 
the full attention of the crowd, "not as the victorious crusaders we 
were told we would be, but as defeated and crumbling as the ground we 
all walk on.  There will be no glorious song to sing as we return to 
our Home World.  No feasts, beckoned by a concert of horns as we spread 
news of our battles.  
	"There will be no rejoicing in the Empire tonight, as we have 
seen the Empire in its true light.  At long last.  Truth escapes from 
the dying breaths of too many murders.  There are too many secrets to 
hold and contain.  Finally, we begin to see the truth, and there is 
nothing to rejoice."
	The crowd waited patiently, captivated by the honest sorrow in 
his voice.  The disgust of having to admit defeat.  The pain of the 
truth that was hiding just behind another sentence of introduction.  
	"The Empire exists to serve only one master," Waddin said.  "Not 
you.  Not I.  Not even the Emperor, who claims he rules over all.  It 
exists only to serve itself.  A sick, dying creature, who would forsake 
its children to coddle the darkest and most terrifying of monsters for 
even one more day of selfish existence.
	"I give you the truth," he announced, sweeping his hand forward 
dramatically.  
	At the same moment, thousands of screens around the public square 
turned on and began to display the false report.  Men and women 
positioned in the crowd began to hand out copies of the data crystal to 
anyone who wanted them.  Everyone wanted them.
	"My people," Waddin announced once the shock of the first few 
minutes subsided.  "Our enemy is the Empire itself, for it would rather 
kill us, its children, than the butcher of our Armada.  I give you the 
truth about Emperor Sanis, and his well-fed and well-guarded guest:  
The Senshi, Maury Sol."

	The crowd seethed in anger. 










	"We had people like him back on Earth a few decades ago," Dave 
said helpfully as Maury and Sanis paced back and forth, watching the 
crowd on the view screen growing angrier and angrier.  "We called them 
Ministers of Propaganda."
	The throne room was cloaked in black fabric from the funeral 
earlier that day.  Sanis kept on thinking how fitting the colours were 
for his own demise.  "I can't believe this is happening," he whispered 
to nobody in particular.  "This was supposed to uncover the truth, not 
bring in more lies."
	Dave was still idly flipping through the translated document on 
his PDA that Yean had supposedly uncovered as they watched the public 
address by Waddin and Dolesbur on the screens.  "A ten year old could 
see where they made the changes," he supplied helpfully.  "I don't see 
what the big deal is."
	"A ten year old?" Sanis said with a chuckle.  "Maybe that's the 
problem.  People get jaded and don't want to think for themselves as 
they get older."
	Maury sighed, turning to the Omega Webber.  "Can we prove it?"
	"Sure," Dave shrugged.  "I can go out and stand where that guy is 
standing and spout a whole bunch of technical mumbo jumbo about the 
conflicting writing styles and different grammar, and explain to them 
that the quantum seal on the document was added after Yean was found 
dead in his room, but instead, I refer you to a line from the cult 
classic 'Army of Darkness':" Dave cleared his throat, then used a 
passable fake Scottish overtone in his voice, "I dunna think they'll 
listen."
	Punctuation came in the form of an angry roar from the crowd 
outside.  The massive internal courtyard was several decks and 
bulkheads below, but the anger being voiced was loud enough to rumble 
in the throne room. 
	"Yean is dead because he found the truth," Sanis said.  "And now, 
they're saying I had him killed to try to cover up the document because 
it was proof I was wrong about you."
	Dave let out a little chuckle.  Sanis and Mo turned to him with 
questioning looks.  "Sorry," he said.  "They misspelt 'Maury'.  Too 
many 'r's." 
	"Maurrrrry!" Mo chuckled.  "Great.  So now I'm a pirate Senshi.  
Everyone knows Ninjas are far cooler than pirates."
	"Yes, but don't discount pirates on a good rum day," Dave said 
with a raised eyebrow.  "Oh, this is some good stuff.  Did you know 
that you raped your victims in the maiden house?  I didn't even know 
the Negaverse had maiden houses."
	"Really?  I did?" Mo grinned.  "Man, this guy Maurrrrry gets more 
play than I do."
	"I'm impressed by the number of metaphors they use for the term 
'flaming penis'," Dave groaned.  "These guys could write Yaoi Pokemon 
fanfics.  They'd win awards, I suspect."
	Maury laughed, but Sanis clearly wasn't amused.  "Please, Prince 
Maury, Mister Reinquest.  This is very serious.  A good friend, the 
only one I could trust with the truth, is now dead, and I have nothing 
to combat these lies with." He ran his hands through his short silver 
hair.  "Even if we come out with a statement claiming the document to 
be false, I believe that your earlier evaluation is correct.  They 
simply won't listen."
	"Has anyone else talked to you, Mo?" Dave asked.  
	Maury shrugged.  "What do you mean?"
	"Prince Maury has been in isolation," Sanis said, "if that is 
what you mean."
	Dave nodded.  "Then we should change that.  Get Maury to say a 
few things.  I've talked to a few of the guards on Sol who saw your 
public address.  They were surprised you weren't some kind of flaming 
shit-demon."
	"Well, I do try to wipe afterwards," Maury bowed his head. 
	"The best I can do at this point is force a public trial," Sanis 
said.  "They won't allow me to defend you, though.  I'd lose the throne 
if I tried," the boy said, but then paused to consider the idea.  "Of 
course, that might end in less bloodshed."
	"Hell no," Maury frowned.  "You're the first sane emperor the 
Negaverse has had in how many centuries?  Even if we're not going to 
have peace, I'd rather war with someone sane than these two goofs who 
just murdered their own friend to cover up a shitty lie."
	"Bloodshed is not guaranteed either way," Dave said, slipping his 
PDA away into his pocket.  "I agree with Maury.  If you're in command, 
at least we know someone has peace on their mind instead of a self-
centered revolution."
	Sanis sighed, looking at the throne behind them.  "Maybe it's 
time for a revolution.  You hear them.  They want change."
	"They're being egged on by bastards who want your chair," Maury 
said.  "Give me ten minutes with a Dennis Leary DVD and a projector and 
I can get the same crowd laughing their asses off and singing the 
Asshole Song."
	"The Asshole Song?" Sanis blinked. 
	"Not now," Dave cautioned as Maury looked like he was about to 
break into chorus.  
	"My point is," Mo said, "nothing they do will change the fact 
your planets are dying.  They'll take advantage of the peace you and I 
made and use it to say 'Oh!  Look!  The moment we were in power, 
suddenly we have sunlight being piped in to our Empire!'  If it wasn't 
for you and I, we'd all be dead right now and your empire would follow 
in a few short years."
	Sanis said nothing.
	"People without power want it," Mo said, pointing at the screens 
showing Dolesbur shouting (military promises now) over the crowd to 
mass applause.  "You and I already have power, and we understand what 
it really means to have and to use.  We know that it's a lot of hard 
work.  Do you honestly think these two could just jump in and take over 
without killing a million people in the process?"
	"It's not about what I think," Sanis said.  "If it was, we would 
have never been here in the first place."
	"Why not, then?" Mo asked.  "Why not make it about what you 
think?  What's the absolute worse that could happen?"
	"You and I could get assassinated," Sanis offered. 
	Maury cleared his throat.  "Okay, but that's worst case...and 
then those assholes get to rule anyway.  We need to fight together on 
this one.  You can get control of your empire again if you just show 
them that all these problems are being solved."
	"Rational thinking versus Tradition," Dave said quietly.  "That's 
the problem.  It's really hard to convince people who rely on tradition 
that the new way is right."
	"Well, shit, then you're my lawyer," Maury smiled.  "We go on 
trial and invite the public in to see you rip these nut-jobs apart with 
your brains of pain."
	"It might not be that simple," Dave said.  "I can argue them to a 
logical standstill, but that doesn't give us much momentum forwards.  
We have the Sol platform project, but they'll just argue that their way 
of doing it would be faster, and they won't need you around."
	"That's the issue, Prince Maury," Sanis said.  "I can keep my 
throne despite this opposition, but I'm worried you'll be killed in the 
process, or as part of my bid to do so."
	"But that's not for sure," Mo said brightly.
	Sanis sighed.  "I suppose not.  If enough sympathy can be earned, 
that is."
	"I'll need a pair of crutches," Mo said excitedly.  "And an eye-
patch.  No, wait, make that one crutch and a sling.  No eye-patch."
	"Senshi plus Me equals Death," Dave mumbled.  "I've said it so 
many times that I have that handy equation made up.  It's a universal 
constant by now."
	"Do you have them or not?" Maury said, crossing his arms. 
	Dave sighed and pulled out a crutch from the depths of his coat.  
"I hate you so much," he said, then tossed Mo a small foil package 
containing a sling.
	"If he shows up injured, it is more likely that the public will 
see him as weak, not pitiable," Sanis said quietly to Dave.
	"Wonderful," the Omega Webber said.  "Do you have a copy of your 
trial procedures?  I think I should start researching them now."










Chapter 21











	"Miss Simrit," Tambre whispered.  
	"Go away," Jess said quietly, looking down at the wound on her 
leg with disgust.
	Tambre sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I should have told you and Chris 
earlier."
	Jess turned to her with a weary frown.  She had been trying to 
sleep but the ache in her leg kept waking her up over and over.  "Tell 
us what?  That you were working for these psychos?"
	Tambre looked around worriedly, as if afraid one of their captors 
had heard the insult.  It was evening now, though.  Maybe they were 
asleep or eating a meal.  "Of course not!  I spoke only the truth about 
my captivity, and the experiments carried on here."
	"Why did you sell us out?" Jess said, raising her head.  "Was it 
to get them to lessen your punishment for escaping?  Maybe use someone 
else for their plans?"
	"No!" Tambre said, eyes clouded with tears.  "I wanted only to 
escape!  I've seen twenty girls and women ripped apart here!  Did you 
think I would be so foolish to believe they'd give a damn about me?"
	They were silent for a long time.  Tambre's tears faded into 
quiet acceptance.  Jess' brain, fuzzy as it was from pain, began to 
realize her earlier ideas about Tambre must have been exaggerated.
	"And I certainly," Tambre said, voice tiny, "wouldn't wish this 
upon you, nor anyone else.  You were so kind to me."
	"Alright," Jess said.  "Two questions."
	Tambre nodded.  "Please."
	"First, why were you fawning all over Chris and Nathan?" Jess 
said with a slight edge in her voice.  
	Tambre's cheeks flushed.  "Habit," she whispered.  "I found very 
quickly that getting away was easier when charmed young men helped me."
	"Well," Jess said reluctantly.  "I suppose I'd lie if I told you 
I wouldn't have done the same thing.  Fair enough."
	"I never meant to make it seem I was trying to..."
	"Please," Jess interrupted.  "Second question.  We suspected 
something strange about you and went through your belongings.  What was 
in the small box in your pack?"
	Tambre seemed surprised at this.  "You...went through my pack?"
	"We were worried you were a spy or something," Jesminder said 
quickly. 
	"You would have only had to ask me," Tambre said quietly.  "I 
would have gladly shown you everything."
	"Some people aren't so honest," Jess said. 
	Tambre let out a little sigh, but then nodded.  "Medicine.  When 
I spoke to the Arch-mage and he confirmed my 'pregnancy', he gave me-"
	"Arch-mage?  You mean Battra?" Jess said, surprised.  "Every time 
we were around him, he seemed to loathe us bringing you."
	"But he still assisted me when I asked," Tambre said, blushing 
further.  "To be honest, I was scared to approach him, but I lucked 
into seeing him among the tents that night."
	Jess nodded.
	"Anyway, he gave me those as a way to slow the cherub's growth 
within me," she explained softly.  "They're small demons that enjoy 
eating angelic flesh.  Unfortunately, the cherub, even one so young, 
has defences to prevent it from being completely devoured.  I was 
hoping it would slow down the cherub's growth enough that I could see 
this Crystal Canada everyone was talking about," she smiled, tears 
welling back up in her eyes.  "Maybe, I even dared hope they had some 
medicine that could help as well."
	"I believe you," Jess sighed, turning away from her.  "You're 
showing."
	The woman blinked.  "Showing?"
	"I suppose you can't lie about that, can you.  Even in Eden, 
regular babies take nine months, don't they?" 
	Realization dawned on her face and Tambre looked down at herself 
uncomfortably, a stray tear dropping down to her stomach.  "These are a 
bit more impatient, I'm afraid.  I'm glad you won't be chosen as a 
host," she smiled, though the smile faded.  "But I worry what that 
means.  Maybe something else?"
	"I don't really want to think about it right now," Jess said.  
"Iran wasn't exactly any fun either, but I was kind of hoping I'd never 
be caught in a torture room again."
	"You've survived something like this before?" Tambre asked in 
wonderment.  
	Jess smiled weakly.  Why was it so hard to concentrate?  It must 
have been something the cherub did to her leg.  The story.  Focus on 
the story, she told herself.  "Yeah.  It was the second job I went in 
with Jean as my camera man.  The boss was determined to put us through 
our paces.  Ended up apologizing every day afterwards, though."
	"What happened?"
	"On Earth, we have hundreds of countries," Jess explained, 
enjoying the novelty of it all.  "Instead of one Word, we have several.  
The most popular ones sometimes have people who try to fight the other 
popular ones."
	Tambre nodded.  "A very strange world."
	"You're telling me," Jess smiled.  "Well, I'm from an area of the 
Earth that is primarily one Word, and this other country is in a part 
of the world where the people are primarily another Word.  Some of 
those people, and my people, do really stupid things and try to kill 
each other for no reason.  If enough people die, then the people ruling 
each country figure they may as well step into the heat of battle and 
declare war.
	"When enough people who aren't fighting get interested in the 
war, they send reporters to show them what's going on," Jess explained.  
"And normally, both sides in a war want to let the reporters do their 
job, thinking that they will earn sympathy from their people.  
Sometimes, one side doesn't like the pictures we show or the things we 
say, and they treat us like enemies, and we get captured and tortured 
and killed."
	"Oh my!" Tambre whispered. 
	"So, yeah," Jesminder said.  "I've been in places like this 
before.  I have scars that I'm still not ready to show.  Not even to 
Chris unless he gets me good and drunk first.  But scars are just 
scars.  They mean you are still alive.  That's what counts."
	Tambre smiled at the thought.  "I'm sure he's looking for you 
right now."
	"I'm sure he's not," Jess said, startling the woman.  
	"Why not?" Tambre asked.  "Aren't you...well, interested in 
becoming his?"
	Jess blinked, then laughed.  "I was hoping for more of a joint 
venture, actually, but yes, I suppose we are both interested."  Her 
smile faded. "But we're both professionals.  That means we can't let 
our personal feelings stop us from doing our jobs.  Mine is to report 
the truth, and his is to lead his country.  Right now, that means our 
top priority is getting those poor people to safety.  If he were to 
burst in here right now and save us both, I would kick him in the 
nuts."
	"Nuts?" Tambre blinked.
	"Uhm," Jess scrambled for the analogy.  "The parts he would use 
to cleave."
	Tambre turned bright red.  "I don't think he would enjoy that."
	"That would be the point," Jesminder grinned.  "Because he should 
be out there, saving those hundred-thousand poor, scared, starving 
people instead of four silly people trapped by insane people."
	Tambre smiled and nodded enthusiastically.  "It suddenly doesn't 
seem so bad, I suppose.  If so many others get to live on."
	Jess' smile faded.  "That's the first thing you've got to stop."
	"Pardon?"
	"Thinking we're going to die," she said sternly.  "Stop that.  
Believing we would live is what got Jean and I out of Iran.  We walked 
out on our own two feet with our own flags on our clothing.  There's 
nothing that they can do that can take that away."
	Tambre looked down at the bulge in her belly, but then up at Jess 
again, seeing the conviction in her eyes.  
	"Chris and the others are less than two weeks away from the City 
of SkitZ," she whispered.  "Don't you think the moment everyone is safe 
he won't come flying through that door with a dozen mages and cops and 
all kinds of payback for these assholes who have us tied up?"
	"I do," Tambre smiled despite her fearful tears.  "I honestly, 
truly do."
	"Fourteen days," Jesminder promised.  "Fourteen days.  You can 
count them down.  Then we'll be safe.  Got it?" 
	Tambre's smile turned into a laugh.  "Got it.  I won't give up."
	"Promise me."
	"I promise," she said, lips trembling as she said the words.  
"Maybe less if he hurries?"
	The door flew open, causing both women to shield their eyes from 
the sudden light from the hallway.  Jesminder felt queasy when she saw 
that the light came from three more of the Aszap things.  Even with an 
older man walking between them, Jess had chills up her spine, realizing 
all three of them had their 'eyes' fixated upon her.  
	After the door closed, their eyes adjusted to properly view the 
new person in the dim light.  He was older, maybe fifty or a spry 
sixty, and his shoulders were rounded from years of work.  His face was 
clean-shaven despite the wrinkles around his cheeks, and his head 
sported a long, well-kept mane of grey hair that was tied into a knot 
at the back of his skull.  
	"My name is Devon," he said with a thin smile.  
	Tambre had reacted to the man's very image with worry, but was 
now shaking in fright.  Jesminder remembered the man's voice from the 
night before when he mentioned something about her 'spirit'.  
	"I'm Jesminder, Devon," Jess said with a frown, trying to regain 
her confidence despite the quiet weeping from her companion.  "Let me 
guess.  You're our chef?  Come to serve us a late dinner?"
	Devon laughed as if he remembered some joke form long ago.  "Ahh, 
humour, spirit, determination.  I rarely thank the Word anymore, but I 
feel it is hardly coincidence we have met."
	He walked over to the wall where a table had been placed, and 
carefully moved it closer to the women trapped against the wall.  A 
white cloth covered several bumps on the surface, and Jess' imagination 
betrayed her by picturing a set of scalpels and other medical devices.  
"What's that?" she asked.  "Dinner?"
	"It is certainly edible," Devon said, lifting up the cloth to 
reveal a pan of water and what seemed to be a long, greenish-white 
jump-rope coiled within the liquid.  "But simply devouring this reed 
would be a waste.  Their taste is hardly enjoyable, and they have such 
more interesting uses."
	He lifted it up with his bare hands, and carefully cradled it as 
he brought it closer to Jess.  "Oh?  Like what?  Shoelaces?"
	"Absorption," Devon explained.  "This reed survives deep within 
the deserts with ease because it can store incredible amounts of water 
in its tiny frame.  Would you like to touch it?"
	"Not particularly," Jess frowned.
	Devon ignored her and brushed the rope-like plant against her 
arm.  She shivered from the cold water, but then looked up at her arm 
and saw no wounds or effect.  "Oh my!  Such a reaction to something as 
simple as a chill!" he laughed, delighted.
	"Shut up," Jess said angrily.
	"I apologize," Devon smiled, reaching up to the low roof so he 
could hang the plant on a spare hook in front of her to straighten it 
out from its coiled form.  "This particular reed has two names.  One is 
the Traveler's Canteen, for obvious reasons.  It is considered very 
good luck to find one of these in the desert, and it has saved more 
lives than it has taken."
	"Taken?" Jess asked.
	"Of course," Devon said casually.  "The other nickname it owns is 
'Razor Reed', which is why digging it up to obtain its precious water 
is sometimes a deadly task.  When it dries out, the plant takes on the 
consistency of wire, and the pores that normally allow the blessed 
water to enter into the body of the plant become parched and jagged 
with dehydration." 
	Jess watched him run his hand over the smooth surface of the 
reed.  It came away damp.  "And why are you telling me this?  I'm not a 
botanist."
	Devon turned to her with a impish smile.  "Oh, no reason.  I just 
wanted you to know.  It makes the anticipation so much more tangible if 
you understand the process in advance," he said picking the reed up off 
of the hook once more and holding it by the two 'jumping rope' ends 
that seemed to be a thick burlap cloth cover.  "Every day, I shall come 
here and administer one lash.  If, after that, I find any answers 
lacking, or I am not satisfied that I am providing a truly unique 
experience, I will add an additional lash to the next day's regiment 
and we will continue on as long as you draw breath."
	Jess frowned.  "You're going to whip me with a wet noodle?"
	Devon nodded and smiled.  "I believe, with the experiences you 
were talking about in this 'I-Ran' place, it would have been insulting 
to torture you by mundane methods.  Also, I want to compare my skills 
to your world.  I must admit some vanity in this regard, but I can 
assure you, not all my questions will be so self-centered."
	He wound back with his arm, and Jess gasped, closing her eyes 
tight as the reed lashed out and slapped her arms painfully.  Tambre 
cried out at the sound.  Luckily, the pain wasn't anything 
extraordinary, but even the brief lash had caused Jess to let out a 
painful hiss of a breath.
	"Excellent, very excellent," Devon said as he unwound the reed 
from his hands and hung it back up on the hook in front of her.  
	"Is there a point to all this?" Jess demanded angrily.
	"Of course," Devon said with his impish smile.  "Everything we do 
has a purpose, Jesminder," he said, surprising her that he remembered 
her name from just the one mention.  "We who assist Mistress Marish 
have all seen that the Word limits us.  It stops us from our true power 
and potential.  You, like us, are not bound by the Word.  Is it so 
strange that we are so curious about you?"
	"Why tie me up, then?  Why chain anyone up?" she shouted.  
"Torture doesn't get answers.  Not all the time."
	"True," Devon said, the grin on his face never leaving.  "But you 
are assuming the torture, as you call it, is so you will answer my 
questions.  No, I'm afraid I have seen far too many people lie 
successfully even under pain so intense that it made me reluctant to 
administer it.  What I seek is not the answers from your questions.  
What I seek is the answers you give me during the pain.  How you 
respond to pain, and the times between the lashings, will tell me so 
much more than a question about your home, or your country's military 
or your weaknesses."
	Jess felt her stomach clench.
	"This," Devon said quietly, "is usually where people call me 
insane.  A monster.  Any number of names."
	"I figure you'd just take it as a compliment," Jess said dryly.
	"Humour," Devon laughed.  It was almost a giggle.  "Still, she 
can appreciate humour.  I am very impressed."
	Jess bit her lip to prevent herself from screaming at the man.  
It would have only made him happy.  
	"Enough for tonight," Devon said, drying his hands with the cloth 
that had been covering the reed earlier.  "I am quite satisfied.  Maybe 
we won't have to resort to any more lashings.  You certainly seem 
capable of engaging me in some excellent banter.  I only hope it will 
last as the days march forward."
	Jess and Tambre watched as Devon placed the table back in the 
corner, but left the reed hanging in front of Jess, only a few feet out 
of her reach.  Then he left, closing the door and locking it without 
another word.  
	"So nice of him to leave us some decorations," Jess said, turning 
to Tambre, who had a look of terror plastered on her face.  "Fourteen 
days.  That's all."
	Tambre nodded quickly.  "Thirteen," she smiled weakly.  "It's 
night."
	"That's the spirit," Jesminder smiled softly.











Chapter 22











	Amon had just finished putting away a couple of stray books when 
he heard someone knock on the door.  He peered around the bookshelf and 
saw a ragged figure with a crutch on the other side of the glass.  "I 
warned him," he sighed, walking over to the door.  "I warned him, but 
people with a mission never listen to all the directions."
	Harvey's face was lined with new wounds that were badly covered 
with butterfly sutures Amon suspected were nervously self-applied.  His 
other wounds didn't look as bad as they were before, but his right leg 
now ended in a bloody mess of rags.  "Let me in!" he demanded, pounding 
on the locked door.
	With a frown, Amon reached to the door and flipped over the 
'Open' sign to show 'Closed'.  "Very sorry.  I'm afraid we're done for 
now."
	Harvey looked shocked as Amon walked away from the door.  "Wait!  
Wait!"
	The demon ignored him, moving back to the bookshelf to finish 
sorting his new books.  There was a sudden clank and the door opened as 
Harvey forced the lock with his magic.  Amon turned to the door with a 
growl.  
	"I need more," Harvey said, stumbling through the door.  "Just 
one more.  Maybe two.  Then I can finish this," he huffed, stumbling 
over to the shelf where he had seen the cigars stored earlier.  
	"Get out," Amon growled, storming over to the man and grabbing 
his one good wrist before it could grasp the Tupperware container.  "No 
more.  You blew it.  Now go and get some help before you fall apart and 
make a mess on my floor."
	"NO!" Harvey yelled, throwing all his power at Amon, knocking him 
off guard.  
	Amon stumbled backwards, holding up his arms as a shield.  An 
ice-blue wall of force crackled angrily between him and the mage.  "You 
fucking monkey!  What do you-"
	He was cut off as Harvey attacked again, this time shattering his 
shield and throwing him back against the counter and through a glass 
display case holding several rare comics.  Despite the small victory 
for the mage, he was now very much aware of Amon's resilience.  Harvey 
had thrown enough power at Amon to disintegrate a small car with little 
effect.
	He had to act fast before Amon could get up.  Harvey had reached 
the cigar container and opened it frantically.  When he tapped it, 
nothing came out, and he whimpered when he saw no more of the pain-
freeing smokes inside.  "Where are they?!" he gasped, throwing the 
container at Amon, who groaned as he picked himself up from the glass.
	"In MY house?" Amon growled.  "You DARE to use your monkey magic 
in MY house?"  As he stomped forward, his fists became encrusted with 
jagged ice.  He bashed part of the ruined comics stand down into a 
shape roughly resembling a pancake so he could climb out of the mess.
	"Out of my way!" Harvey shouted, stumbling to the back of the 
store.  Amon growled and lunged at the man, but his leg gave out when 
he charged.  He stumbled to a stop across the floor, knocking into 
another bookshelf and earning a pair of thick dictionary-weight novels 
on his head.  
	Harvey found the book that Amon had used to hide away the stolen 
Missionaries documents and began to flip through the pages rapidly, 
trying to find the hole.  It appeared on a page halfway through, and he 
shook it madly until the package of documents came tumbling out.  As he 
grabbed the documents and stuffed them into his coat, Amon appeared 
behind him.  
	"Get out," Amon hissed, picking the man up as if he weighed 
nothing at all.
	"Let me go!" Harvey screamed, trying to twist out of the demon's 
grip.  
	Cracking and crunching sounds filled the air as Harvey tried to 
break Amon's arms with his magic, but the demon ignored the attempts 
outright.  In one last, growling shout, the demon threw Harvey through 
the front door, shattering it into a hundred pieces.  Many of them 
stuck into Harvey, and the man lay in a heap outside of the shop, 
trying to regain his ability to stand.  
	Amon stood over him, lifting his arms.  "Three fractures," he 
hissed, closing his eyes and letting a thick covering of ice form on 
his arms.  "I should gut you and set your soul on the Erazick Auction 
Block in Pandemonium for your little stunt."  
	"We had a deal!" Harvey said, shaking from pain.  "You said you'd 
help me!"
	"That's the only reason you still draw breath!"  Amon spat on the 
dirt as the ice on his arms evaporated, leaving his wounds healed.  
"But you forfeited any deals made when you raised your pathetic little 
spells against me," he hissed, reaching up to take off his sunglasses.  
"Now, go.  Before I decide to take a refund out of your little monkey 
body."  
	Harvey turned and saw the black, misting-nothing of the demon's 
eye sockets, and suddenly found the strength to stand up and run.  
	"Pathetic," Amon hissed, watching the mage run as fast as his 
injuries would let him.  He slowly put back on his sunglasses.  "But 
not a total loss," he mumbled to himself, reaching into his pocket for 
a cell phone.  
	He dialled three digits and waited patiently for an operator as 
he found a broom to clean up the glass in the front.  
	The operator answered and Amon tried not to smile too hard.  
"Hello, I'd like to report a break-in at my store.  Oh, and I think the 
guy who did it was on the news.  Some murderer or something.  Yeah, 
I'll hold."











	"NO!" Thomas gasped, rolling out of bed as he woke.  The fall was 
painful, but it jostled him back to reality and he nearly kissed the 
ground for that fact.  
	The nightmares.  The dreams.  Why were they always of this silly 
childhood terror?  Something he hadn't thought of in years.  A decade 
at least.  
	He glanced at the clock and groaned as he wondered if he woke up 
Jimmy.  Sure enough, as he reached for the door, there was a small 
knock.  Thomas pulled on a spare t-shirt and opened it.  Jimmy looked 
up at him with sleepy eyes.  
	"Alright?" the boy asked. 
	"Yeah, sorry," Thomas smiled guiltily.  
	"Good.  Bed.  Night," Jimmy yawned and turned around to his room, 
closing the door behind him.  
	Thomas wondered how often this was going to happen.  His roommate 
had already gotten so used to his nightly outbursts that he had the 
process down to four words.  
	Tom shut the door, but knew he wouldn't go back to sleep with so 
few hours left in the night.  Tomorrow, they would face Miharu in their 
weekly test of combat skill.  Phantom wounds still stung his pride from 
the last time.  Not wanting to bother Jimmy further by running the 
shower, he decided to head to the dojo for some early practice.  He 
could wash up in the change rooms.
	With a change of clothes, his sword, and a pair of jogging pants, 
he made his way through the compound, saying hello to the occasional 
guard he encountered.  They were all accustomed to Thomas' late night 
post-nightmare jogs, and seemed grateful for the interruption in their 
quiet night.  
	Lights were on in the dojo and a dark red sports car was parked 
off to the side.  Apparently he wasn't the only one with a late night 
practice planned, but he was slightly surprised when he saw Miharu on 
the mat, smashing her sword into what had once been a section of I-
beam.  
	The sound was amazing, and he had to cover his ears as he watched 
her slashing into the huge metal chunk again and again.  Her sword 
never stopped, and he suspected that even after hours of practice, it 
wouldn't wear even a scratch.  
	She was clearly mad about something.  Sweat drenched her grey 
shirt and black jogging pants, and her long pony-tail bound hair was 
tied back messily instead of held by its usual professional clip.  She 
was completely focused on the attack.  Miharu didn't even notice her 
audience until she had almost cut the I-beam into cubes, then kicked it 
out of the ring to allow the magic to re-assemble it.  Then, she walked 
over and hefted the beam back into the ring.  
	"Couldn't sleep?" she asked, startling Thomas.  
	"Nightmares," he nodded.
	"Try it," Miharu offered, stepping out of the ring.  "It does 
wonders for your ego."
	He smiled and stepped up into the ring, unsheathing his sword.  
"Where did you get an I-beam?"
	"Cleanup leftovers from the war," Miharu said, walking over to 
the side to grab a water bottle.  "This one belonged to an office 
building."
	Thomas nodded, then took a swing at the metal chunk.  His blade 
sunk deep into the metal, but he had to kick off of the surface to pull 
his sword free again.
	"Try slashing instead of chopping," Miharu offered, illustrating 
with her wakazashi.  "Let it flow along your arm."
	He nodded, then attempted again.  While the cut was not as deep, 
his blade no longer got stuck, and he soon was able to keep it up in a 
slow rhythm of slashes, digging an 'X' into the metal in front of him. 
	"Not bad," Miharu said brightly.
	Thomas took another couple swings at the beam before his arm got 
tired.  He moved back and lay his sword off to the side as he 
stretched.  "So?" he asked.  "Why are you here?"
	Miharu took another good whack at the metal, carving off a large 
chunk that fell to the floor with a crash.  "Had to fire someone 
today."
	"Oh?  That's not so bad," Thomas offered. 
	"Actually," Miharu sighed, "had to get him put in prison too.  He 
was selling secrets about the program."
	"Oh," Thomas said.  
	She nodded, sheathing her sword.  "That's the one problem about 
being an optimist like my dad.  When something goes wrong."  She 
sighed.  "Guess now I understand why he can get a little detached 
sometimes."
	"It's bound to happen," Thomas said, trying to cheer her up, but 
he could see the words had been a bad choice.  "I mean, look at how 
many loyal people you have working for you.  You find good people.  A 
lot of good people."
	Miharu smirked.  "Really?  Cause I'd be pissed if I found out 
someone was selling my info.  The last thing I want is a bunch of 
internet fan-boys finding out my measurements."
	"Well, Danielle might be angry, but I really couldn't care," 
Thomas shrugged.  "Why?  Are my boobs too small?" he asked, cupping his 
hands to his chest.
	A true smile finally cracked on Miharu's lips.  "I think you'd 
have more to worry about if they were too big."
	"Ahh, so you've been looking at my boobs, have you?" Thomas 
gasped. 
	"Only once in a while," Miharu laughed.
	Thomas nodded, then reached for his sword handle.  "Care to have 
a fight?"	
	Miharu's eyebrows raised.  "Are you sure?  You still have to 
fight with Danielle later tonight.  I won't go easy on you."
	Thomas nodded.  "Yes, but you're all tired from beating up I-
beams, and now," he puffed out his chest, "you will be distracted by my 
breasts.  You will have no choice but to surrender."
	"Oh, just for that I'm going to kick your ass," Miharu laughed, 
drawing her sword and wiping her brow quickly with her sleeve.  
	They left the circle to reset the clock, then entered at opposite 
ends, swords ready.  Miharu rushed forward, forcing Thomas to do the 
same.  Their swords came together and Thomas was able to parry hers 
down and low.  He earned a nick on his leg, but managed to sweep in 
with his foot and push Miharu off balance.  
	Miharu recovered far quicker than Thomas could swing, however, 
and she used her fall to drop gracefully under his blade.  When she sat 
up, her sword's tip found his chest and cut a vertical hole in his 
shirt.  He was able to fall back to avoid it being a fatal wound, but 
there was blood nonetheless.
	"That must be the first time you haven't taken a major bleeder," 
Miharu smiled, standing up and readying herself for the next attack. 
	"Yeah, well, I've begun to learn that they hurt a lot," Thomas 
said, pressing his hand into his chest and finding only a pinstripe of 
red.  "Ahh, I was right.  My breasts, is it?"
	Miharu raised her sword and brought it down with a slash of dark 
blue energy.  Thomas dodged it just barely, though he suspected the 
attack had been slow on purpose.  It fizzled outside of the ring, but 
not before scorching the floor.
	"Yeah, must be it," Miharu said helpfully, a grin still on her 
lips.  
	Thomas returned to the offensive and used the flat of his sword 
as a shield to deflect her blade.  She knew she had no hope of stopping 
his momentum from a standstill, so instead she pirouetted alongside, 
tapping his underarm and blocking the spin-swing that he had hoped to 
connect with.  He pushed back, ignoring the pain under his arm, but 
this time found Miharu pushing back with equal force.  In fact, it 
seemed almost perfectly even.  She was locking their blades together so 
he couldn't get a lucky strike.
	Despite her obvious fatigue and her sweat-drenched shirt, Miharu 
held him at bay, making it look so amazingly effortless.  Thomas 
suddenly was very aware of how bloody gorgeous she looked like that.  
	Miharu saw the glimpse of something in his eye, and pushed him 
away with an additional reserve of strength he hadn't been expecting.  
"Getting sleepy?" she said, waiting for him to recover.  "You look like 
you're daydreaming."  While her grin was still there, she looked 
slightly annoyed now.  
	To save grace, he attacked again, hoping to smooth over the 
accidental look.  Miharu parried the strike easily, and gave up an 
opportunity to hit back so he could perfect the swing again.
	"Better," Miharu said, pushing him back with a flurry of three 
strikes, then resetting her stance for defensive.  "I hear you did 
better against Harvey this time around."
	"If by better," Thomas grunted, swinging around his blade for 
another massive strike, hoping she would jump over it, "you mean we 
didn't get hurt, then yes," he gasped as Miharu knelt down, jammed her 
sword in the floor, and used the extra stability to block his muscle-
jarring swing.  
	It was only by virtue of her smaller blade that it did not rip 
his arm off when she slashed into his shoulder.  He lunged, but found 
her bouncing away before he could retaliate.  "A lot better," she said. 
	Thomas hefted his sword and cringed when he remembered his 
underarm had been slashed open. "He still got away, though."
	Miharu held her sword along the back of her arm and rushed at 
him.  Thomas wisely did not try to attack her as she came into range, 
and instead, used every bit of strength he possessed just to block the 
three back-handed attacks made at his stomach.  The forth finally 
knocked him down and he felt cold when he realized his sword had 
clattered away out of his grasp.  
	"Go ahead," she said, backing up to the edge of the circle.  
"You're doing well.  At least when you concentrate," she winked.
	Thomas rolled over to his sword and picked it up.  His cheeks 
were feeling hot and he had to force himself to focus on Miharu's sword 
which had his blood on its tip, rather than the way her skin was 
glowing under the warm dojo lights.  
	"Two minutes," Miharu said, looking up at the clock.  
	"Three," Thomas said.  "And I buy you dinner.  Tonight."
	Miharu looked at him incredulously.  "You're kidding, right?"  
She readied her sword.  "And if not?"
	"Your choice," Thomas said hopefully with a small bow.  
	"Deal," Miharu said quickly.  Thomas was suddenly very nervous.  
"Go!"
	They launched forward, though each sidestepped into the parry, 
then swung around to meet swords once again.  Thomas' shoulder 
complained at the quick movements, but it was the only way he could 
keep up to her now that she didn't seem to be backing down to the 
heavier swings.  Their blades locked and he tried to topple her over 
with a foot-swipe, but she just stepped up and onto his feet, 
effectively gluing him to the floor. 
	Thomas realized his error a heartbeat too late to react; Miharu 
removed her sword while still standing on his left foot.  The sudden 
lack of pressure caused him to stumble forward out of control, and he 
grunted in pain as he felt her sword slice deep into his spine.  
Everything below his neck went numb.  
	"Yield," he whispered hoarsely, unable to move.  
	Miharu sheathed her sword and carefully pulled him out of the 
ring.  A moment later, he stood on wobbly legs.  "Two minutes and forty 
seconds," she said appreciatively.  "You're getting better."
	"We were talking the whole time," Thomas said, feeling quite the 
fool for being so distracted.  "And you went easy on me."
	"Just enough to remind you we were still fighting," Miharu said, 
walking back into the ring to retrieve his sword.  "Ice cream.  Your 
treat.  And I get to look at your breasts."
	Thomas raised an eyebrow.  "Really?"
	"I was kidding about the breasts part."
	"But, I mean, is it a date?" 
	Miharu threw him his sword, which he caught with a wince.  "I 
said ice cream, and if you want to survive those three minutes, I would 
suggest you leave it at that."
	"Of course," Thomas said, watching Miharu head off to the 
showers.  "Real smooth, Tom," he sighed, sitting down next to the ring.  
	He jumped as he felt his PDA vibrate.  With a wince as his back 
and shoulder complained, he pulled it out an answered it.  "Thomas 
here."
	Captain Kirk had a recognizable voice, even when sleepy, and, 
Thomas suspected, slightly hung over.  "Hey, Tom.  Sorry to wake ya."
	"No, I'm up," Thomas said.  "What's going on?"
	Kirk yawned.  "Not sure if this should go to you, but we heard 
the guy asked for you by name.  You ever been to Amon's Comics?"










Chapter 23











	Routine made the days pass quickly.  Mornings they were allowed 
access to a small basin closet to wash up.  Nathan found fresh 
dressings for his legs, and the skin was healing well.  Breakfast was 
nonexistent, but their lunch was far more filling than thin soup and 
dry bread should have been.  Likely script-augmented meals, much like 
the sustenance powering the Fiss exodus.  
	They were left alone throughout the day with the exception of the 
big man coming in to give and retrieve their meal trays, and to check 
on their bedpans once or twice depending on their use.  He seemed 
friendly enough, and Nathan had trouble deciding if he was one of 
Marish's original group or a new recruit.  Eventually, when they 
learned his name was Gibson, Nathan ruled out the former, and wondered 
why or how Marish was gaining her support. 
	Nathan stayed in bed and rarely moved, pretending to be weaker 
than he was.  They both hoped that Nathan's health could be used as a 
surprise attack if the time came, and their guard seemed slightly 
concerned at the slowness of the Marine's recovery.
	"Your friend is weak?" Gibson asked quietly as Nathan pretended 
to sleep one sunny afternoon. 
	"Of course he's weak," Jean said stiffly.  "He needs medical 
attention.  Do you even know what a hospital is?  We need to get him to 
one."
	"Where are these hospitals?" Gibson asked helpfully.  "We have a 
wide range of herbs here.  Maybe..."
	"It's a place back on Earth," Jean interrupted.  "Where they 
don't whip people every day.  It's a place where people get better, 
instead of being locked up."
	The man sighed, having heard many like outbursts from Jean over 
the last week.  "I will let my Mistress know, but I am sure you can 
assume the answer will stay the same.  You two are to stay as our 
guests."
	Jean weathered the days well, for the most part.  He spent the 
mornings recharging his camera's batteries from the tiny amount of 
sunlight coming into the room from the high window-slits to the 
outside.  By focusing on his equipment, he seemed able to cope with the 
evenings when the sounds of lashings could be heard down the hall.
	The first few days had been strange.  One, maybe two lashes, and 
no other sound after that.  Yesterday, however, they had heard Jess cry 
out in pain, and the number of lashes had jumped from three to five.
	A few minutes into the uncomfortable silence, waiting for further 
sound, Nathan saw that Jean was shaking, trying to stay focused.  His 
hands hovered over his camera, but did nothing.  
	"Hey," Nathan whispered. 
	Jean turned to him.  "Yeah?"
	"Did you get that transmitter thing working?"
	Jean nodded quickly, mind refocusing on something other than the 
sounds of his friend being tortured.  "Yeah, yeah, uhm.  It's working.  
But without my base station, I can't confirm a connection.  Only 
transmit and hope they're getting it."
	"It can't hurt," Nathan said honestly.  "Even if they aren't 
getting video, anyone from Earth should be able to pick up something."
	"Static, most likely," Jean nodded.  "It will get stronger as 
they get closer, so long as the magic here doesn't mess with radio 
waves."
	"Considering they left us with our equipment, they either think 
we're no danger, or they have no idea what the fancy boxes with 
blinking lights do," Nathan said.
	"Maybe they just don't care about us," Jean said, looking towards 
the door.  "Or maybe we're backups if they die."

	The next day was worse.  Jess had cried out after the first 
lashing, and the sobbing echoed down the hall for six more horribly 
sharp slaps.  They could hear Tambre screaming about something, telling 
them to stop, but it seemed her comments were ignored.
	Nathan saw a dark look in Jean's eyes he didn't quite like.  As 
if he had accepted the situation and was planning to do something about 
it.  
	"Promise me you won't do anything crazy," Nathan said sternly as 
they drifted off to bed. 
	"I'm just doing my job," Jean replied in a steely voice.  "Don't 
worry.  Just doing my job."

	The next morning, Nathan saw Jean had been up early, and had 
unpacked all his equipment.  His shoulder-mounted camera now on top of 
a tripod, and he was setting up a light and microphone boom along the 
far wall next to his bed.  
	"Couldn't sleep?" Nathan said with a yawn, looking at the 
impressive array of booms and cable.  "Did you actually bring all that?  
Or did you find a Radio Shack somewhere under the bed?"
	"I'm good at packing my equipment," Jean said quickly, handing 
him a roll of power cable.  "Hold this.  I need to unravel it."
	Nathan dropped the cable on his lap.  "What the hell are you 
doing?  Making a trap with all these wires?"
	"No," Jean said simply.  "I'm just going to do my job."
	Before Nathan could inquire further, the magical buzzing at the 
door stopped and Gibson stepped in side.  His face went from a pleasant 
smile to a gasp of alarm.
	"What is all this?!?" he said, backing away from the light boom.  
	"An interview," Jean said, grabbing the roll of cable from Nathan 
before he could react.  "Do you know what that is?"
	Gibson looked very confused, and took a further step back when 
the camera man plugged in the lighting boom, flooding the corner in 
bright light.  "Is it dangerous?"
	"Not at all," Jean said with a polished smile that Nathan 
suspected had been the result of years of practice in front of a 
mirror.  "This is how we get the news back home.  With a camera."
	The huge man stepped cautiously back into the room, eyeing the 
auto-focusing lens as it rotated and moved to keep him in frame.  "Why 
is it red?"
	"The red light means your image is being stored inside the 
camera, so I can show people back home," Jean explained casually.  
"Would you like to say hello?"
	A goofy smile crossed the man's mouth.  "No, I-I really shouldn't 
stay."
	"Oh, come on," Jean said, carefully lowering the boom a few 
inches to catch his voice.  "This is your chance to make a good 
impression on the people who will be coming.  Maybe it will save some 
lives."
	Gibson's smile faltered.  "People?  People coming here?  Who's 
coming here?"
	Nathan cleared his throat, trying to interrupt to ask what Jean 
was doing, but Jean ignored him outright.  His hands were shaking in 
anger even though his voice and smile were pleasant. 
	"You don't believe torturing two Crystal Canadian citizens of the 
press and a United States military officer will have consequences?" 
Jean asked.  "Do you regularly abduct and torture in this manner?"
	"I w-w-wouldn't hurt anyone!" Gibson stammered, shocked by the 
questions.  
	"But you have no problems working for a group that kidnaps, 
tortures, murders and conducts immoral genetic experimentation on 
unwilling subjects?" Jean asked, leaning on the tripod as if he were 
discussing the weather with the man.  "Do you sleep well at night?"
	Gibson's face turned red from anger.  "I trust Mistress Marish's 
plans.  I know what she does is for the good of us all.  And I would 
never hurt-"
	"How can you justify," Jean pressed, zooming the camera in on the 
man's face, "doing good by murder and creating rabid animals?  Please, 
can you tell us what good is being done that doesn't involve pain and 
suffering?"
	"Maybe she's donating her cash to lepers," Nathan offered with a 
sigh, laying back in his bed and checking for his gun under his pillow.  
	"I trust Mistress Marish," Gibson said once more, taking a step 
forward at Jean in an unconscious attempt to intimidate him.  "You 
shouldn't speak so ill of her!"
	This action only made Jean's smile grow, and Nathan quietly 
pitied their large guard. 
	"What is it that you're hiding?" Jean asked, surprising Gibson 
again by lifting a cordless microphone to his mouth.  "This will let 
our people hear you better.  Please, tell us why you're so willing to 
defend this Marish person?  Were you lovers?  How much does she pay 
you?  Perhaps she has tortured you and brainwashed you into saying 
these things?"
	Gibson's face was now tomato-red and throbbing veins were visible 
on his forehead.  "No!  You...but...NO!  I would never!  Mistress 
Marish would never!"
	"Never beat you?  Brainwashing?  But she allows torture to 
continue on even as you say she is helping us all.  Is there some 
justification for these acts?"
	"Mistress Marish thinks it is necessary!" Gibson insisted.  "You 
don't know her!"
	Jean looked him dead in the eyes.  "Your colleges are hurting and 
killing someone who has no military knowledge, has never taken a life 
or harmed anyone," his voice was growing into an angry, throaty shout, 
"and who is only here in your world because she wanted to help 
thousands of people find a new home!  Your so-called Mistress doesn't 
deserve to be in the same ROOM as Jess!!"
	The punch threw him against the wall in a blink of an eye.  
Nathan had to bite his tongue to prevent from unloading his weapons 
into Gibson.  Gibson looked terrified at what he had done, as if seeing 
his massive clenched fist for the first time.  He quickly unravelled 
his fingers and backed away in shock.  
	Jean was no longer smiling, but he had the most satisfied look on 
his face that a man who had just been levelled by a monster punch could 
have been seen wearing.
	Gibson made a step towards Jean, as if thinking to help him up, 
but Jean slowly stood on his own, coughing and holding his stomach.  
	"I-I..." the guard began as Jean wiped his mouth and found a 
splatter of blood on his sleeve.  "I didn't mean..."
	"I will not rest," Jean said hoarsely, stalking towards the huge 
man with such a mental force that Gibson began scrambling backwards to 
the door.  "Not for one moment, until I show everyone exactly what kind 
of horrors you and your 'Mistress' have committed.  Lock me up, beat 
me, torture me, but I will not die until I see you answer for what you 
have done to her.  To us.  To anyone you've ever hurt or allowed to be 
hurt.  Do you hear me?"
	Gibson turned and ran out the door, just barely remembering to 
reactivate the magic seal behind him.  
	Nathan said nothing as he watched Jean move back to the camera.  
There was just enough life in the battery for another transmission.  
His hands moved automatically over the controls despite the pain that 
was nearly doubling him over.  "Jean, that's enough," he said.  "Sit 
down."
	"In a minute," Jean said to Nathan with the driest shadow of a 
smile.  "The truth will get out.  Even if we don't."











	The script was still legible when Beavis found it.  It was hard 
to miss, taking up nearly ten meters of summoned sand in the middle of 
the forest.  Despite thousands of feet and cart wheels, the Siege Gate 
script had allowed the evidence to survive even though the gate itself 
was gone. 
	Beavis looked at the script over and over, trying to decipher the 
strange patterns and looping symbols.  He had watched Fiss craft these 
spells for days and even weeks before, and yet comprehension would not 
come to him.  It annoyed the hedgehog guardian to no end.
	He used his nose and paws to unwrap Fiss' PDA and began taking 
pictures of the script, watching the woods for signs of movement or 
danger as the flash recharged every few seconds.
	"It's dangerous," someone said, through the trees, "but time is 
limited.  We both knew this could happen eventually."
	Beavis' ears perked up and he searched for the source of the 
voice.  A pair of footsteps trudged through the forest, seemingly 
unconcerned about making noise.  
	"You talk like you haven't done this before," another voice 
laughed.  "If it must be done, we'll make it happen."
	Beavis almost pooped in his quills when the PDA's flash activated 
once more, flooding the area with light.  The two people stopped 
walking, and he could hear the ruffle of wings on one of their backs.  
"Just great," the hedgehog whispered to himself, quickly wrapping the 
PDA back up and nuzzling his head through the makeshift backpack strap.  
	"Show yourself!" one demanded, walking cautiously forward.  
"There's no use hiding.  We saw your light."
	Beavis swallowed back the lump in his throat and began to gather 
his power together for a burst of speed.  
	"Last warning!  Who goes there?"
	Beavis shot sideways through the underbrush like a rubber band, 
propelled by his powers as an Elder and his natural instincts.  He 
heard the two men come crashing through the trees too late, but the 
blue glow around him quickly refocused their efforts.  Even while 
running, he could hear one of them was chasing after, gaining on him 
despite his larger size.
	The little hedgehog had experienced many dangers in his lifetime.  
A fair number of them had been in the wilds of Earth, but far more had 
been the near-bites of hungry dominions here in Eden.  Despite these 
experiences, Beavis was terrified.  How could anyone, or anything, be 
following him so quickly without vaporizing the trees in their way?  
	They had to have wings, and more than that, they would probably 
be an Archangel.  Beavis could handle any of the faux angelic troops on 
Eden with a burst of speed, but his heart began rattling faster as he 
realized anyone who could dodge through a forest like that was likely 
on par with a Knight.  He ran sideways past a huge stone, then launched 
himself at a ninety-degree angle, hoping his miniscule momentum would 
give him an edge.  To his terror, he heard the rock split in half the 
moment he passed it, dust pelting him from behind even as he zigzagged 
behind another tree.
	"Brother, he's a spy!" the angel shouted from behind.  
	Beavis didn't bother wasting breath on trying to argue, and 
instead began to increase his altitude, hoping he was faster in the air 
than whoever was chasing him.  
	"GOTTCHA!" the angel shouted, leaping at him with hands extended.  
	Beavis gasped and curled up into a ball, spines extended.  The 
hands overshot him as he slowed nearly to a stop, and he felt and heard 
the impact into the face of an angel, who yelped in surprise and in 
pain.  
	The impact pushed Beavis up into the air, and he saw a break in 
the tree canopy, leading to open, free sky.  Redoubling his powers, he 
rocketed forward to the sky-blue hole in the tangled green, ignoring 
the yelps and shouts behind him on the ground.  

	Light.

	Light exploded around him as he reached the top of the trees, and 
he found himself stunned by the sheer brilliance of it all.  It was so 
bright that when he closed his eyes, he could still see like it was 
daylight.  
	His power sapped away, and he realized that, in one terrifying 
heartbeat, he was about to fall to the ground.  Then, a shadow in the 
middle of all the light walked towards him on top of the trees as 
easily and calmly as someone would stroll across a room.  Just a moment 
before he fell, Beavis felt a hand under him, lifting him up.  
	He curled up into a ball, spines out for defence, but the attack 
never came.  
	"Beavis Yiodn," the man said with a slight chuckle.  "Please, 
relax your quills.  You're poking my hand."
	Startled at the sound of his Elder name, Beavis uncurled his body 
and blinked to clear his eyes of the fading light.  "How do you know 
who I am?  I don't know you," he frowned, seeing a man in his early 
thirties with long, white robes around him.
	He had an easy, honest smile, and wise eyes.  More than anyone 
Beavis had ever seen.  Ancient, wise, but kind.  Long, golden-brown 
hair flew around his head in the wind, giving the hedgehog an 
impression of a halo.  The man laughed, raising Beavis up to eye level.  
"It would take a while to explain," he said.  
	"What the hell is going on up there?" the other man shouted from 
below.  Beavis felt his quills ruffle in response.
	Before either could say another word, the archangel who had 
chased Beavis through the woods swooped up and through the forest 
canopy, landing in a perch next to the man in white.  Brilliant white 
wings and a dark, tungsten-grey coat clothed the man, setting of his 
jet-black hair.  
	Both men looked at each-other, then back to Beavis.  The angel 
sighed.  "Nobody's supposed to know we're here."
	Beavis' eyes narrowed as the angel faced him, still rubbing his 
cheek where quills had landed a moment before.  He looked familiar, but 
he was having trouble with his eyes still adjusting to the light.   
	"I know some Theban we could use," the angel said.  "If the word 
gets out-"
	"Wait!  I won't tell anyone," Beavis said quickly, but then 
paused as the angel removed his hand from his cheek, revealing his full 
face for the first time.  
	The other man shook his head.  "Actually I think this coincidence 
is perfect," he said, turning back to Beavis.  "This little hedgehog 
comes from a long line of people who once tried to save the universe.  
I can think of nobody else I'd trust."
	Beavis swallowed back the lump in his throat as the angel looked 
him over.  He couldn't help but stare in complete, dumbfounded shock.  
	"It's your decision, brother," the angel said finally, but then 
sighed.  "Beavis, I'm starting to blush.  Stop staring at me."
	"B..." Beavis whispered, unable to look away.  "Y-y-you're dead!  
Fiss killed you!"
	"'Killed'," the angel grinned, "is such a strong word."











Chapter 24










	It was a rare day of rain in Trut, the centre of the grand, 
planet-spanning city.  Black monolithic towers of the new architecture 
rose high into the storm-clouds above, masking their pointed tops with 
dark cottony wisps.  A great deal of buildings were preserved from the 
old city, but they seemed to be nostalgic oddities in the new age of 
efficiency.  Maury couldn't decide which style he hated more, watching 
the city grow closer through the tiny port-hole of his temporary cell.
	Waves of steam came up from the metal and obsidian stone 
platforms and turned into sheets of water.  Those in turn poured over 
the sides in tiny waterfalls, disappearing into the dark, multi-layered 
city streets below.  The first guards came out and arranged themselves 
to form a protective line for the officers and dignitaries who would 
hold the week's court, their armour hissing from the hot rain 
evaporating off of them.  
	Maury shielded his eyes as he stepped out onto the walkways, 
coughing in the rich humidity of the hot rain.  It instantly drenched 
him and the dozens of guards around him, and he wondered to himself how 
a summer shower could feel so goddamn uncomfortable.  
	A huge crowd had gathered around the landing platforms in spite 
of the rain, and Maury chuckled as he realized the guards were more 
concerned about the mob than the well-behaved Senshi.  Dave and Timmy 
were in an adjacent transport, and the boy waved happily at Maury from 
behind the human barricade.
	Maury waved back with a smile, then received a number of dirty 
looks from the guards.  He was about to ask what their problem was, but 
the sudden shouts and surge of crowd activity made him realize he 
probably shouldn't have attracted attention to himself.  
	"IT'S THE SENSHI!"  "KILL THE SENSHI!"  "EVIL WALKS AMONG US!"
	Maury sighed as the shouts began to gain momentum and the guards 
began to walk a little quicker, forcing them forward to the nearest 
guardhouse.  
	Somebody ahead threw a bottle at the guards.  It broke on their 
armour and shattered, and the man started screaming what Mo assumed 
were obscenities in his native language.  He forced himself to look 
away as the guard stormed up and cut him down with one massive swing of 
his arm.  The spines on his armour made a weapon unnecessary to flay 
the man.  The guard then began to bark orders at the three or four 
others who were attempting to climb onto the slippery walkway.  
	The crowd seethed in anger at the guard, and debris of all 
description began to pelt the man from all sides.  Something blade-like 
stuck into the man's arm, and he howled in pain.  Another guard rushed 
over, only to be caught in a an explosion as the blade-bomb ignited.  
Both guards were thrown from their feet and into the crowd, burnt and 
bloody.  
	Before Maury could react, the remaining ten guards rushed him 
forward, ignoring their fallen comrades outright.  He tried to protest, 
but they pushed him forward at a run.  "Wait!  I can help them!  No!  
Dammit, just stop!"
	"Please, Senshi," a guard growled.  "If we stop now, we will be 
overwhelmed."
	"They won't listen.  Not even to heroics," another guard said.  
He was one of the pair who were always around Sanis.  "We must flee, or 
have a repeat of what happened a millennium ago."
	Maury knew they were right, but he felt rotten as they ran past 
the bloody bodies and the angry crowd.  "I shouldn't have come here," 
he said to himself.  "It's just like before."
	They reached the guardhouse and barred the gate as the landing 
walkways were overwhelmed by the crowds.  Troops began marching, trying 
to restore order with what Mo hoped was a non-lethal gas and stun-
weapons, but there were simply too many people to stop.
	The guardhouse had a rail system linked to it, and Sanis' honour 
guard summoned a car by waving his arm over the empty space in the 
wall.  There was just enough space for four people, so Maury, Yen and 
two of the guards jumped in.  The car then accelerated into the dimly 
lit tunnel.  
	"So, what's the plan?" Maury asked, watching the regularly spaced 
rings of cold, gray light sliding past.
	"Well," Yen said, watching Maury with eyes that echoed the 
light's cold flicker, "if your friends survive the mob outside, we will 
convene the council tonight, where you will be stripped, bound and 
presented to the High Court."
	Maury raised an eyebrow.  "What, you mean, like naked?"
	"You will be given a robe for modesty," Yen said with a small 
echo of a smile on his thin, pale lips.  "There, you must spend the 
night in repentance.  Three times every hour, you will be told to 
recite a plea for your crimes.  If you do not, the court will see this 
as contempt and you will be executed on the spot."
	"All night?" Mo frowned.  "When am I supposed to sleep?"
	"Such comforts are not meant for prisoners," Yen explained.  
"However, I am told that because of your...delicate...human physiology, 
the creeds will be timed so you have one hour at the end of the night 
to rest and gather yourself."
	"I may as well just stay up then," Mo mumbled.  "You guys have 
caffeine here, right?"
	"Pardon?"
	"Ah," Mo said, leaning back in his seat.  "No wonder everyone is 
so damn grumpy."
	They were silent for a long time, but Yen had not stopped staring 
at Maury.  
	"You believe this is a game," the honour guard said finally, as 
Maury was about to ask him about it. 
	"Yeah," Maury smirked.  "This ranks right up there with Squirrel 
Twirl with me and my homies.  Saturday nights are basically drinking, 
some paintball, maybe inciting some intergalactic riots...yeah, it's a 
real great time."
	"How old are you?" Yen frowned. 
	"Just a wee lad of twenty-six," Maury said dryly.  "Why?"
	Yen seemed disturbed by the number.  "You're old enough to be my 
father, and yet you act like Sapna's whelps of a year."
	Maury raised an eyebrow.  "How old are you?"
	"In your years," Yen said, "I am nine."
	"Ahh, good, just old enough for some beer," Maury joked.  "When 
this is all over, I'll take you to a pub back home.  You'll love it."
	"Perhaps it is senility, then," Yen muttered out loud.  "A lapse 
of immaturity caused by an aging psyche."
	"Maybe my dentures have alien implants in them," Maury countered.  
"I always forget to take my anti-abduction pills."
	The other two guards just sighed at the exchange, and finally Yen 
realized he would preserve sanity if he stayed silent.  Light grew as 
the tube opened up, and they soon felt the car slowing down.  The roof 
fell away and gave view to a cavernous building around them.  
	This building was old.  All old.  None of the modernized 
skyscraper style.  None of the alien manufacturing oddities.  No 
organics.  It was a courthouse.  Dark.  Imposing.  An arena for 
justice.  
	"Interesting decor," Maury said as they passed under a series of 
giant, shadow-slick arches.
	A small central platform was raised in the middle of a series of 
quarter-moon stepped bleachers.  A few janitors were cleaning the 
seats, and showed that the entire set-up was to an unreal scale.  They 
looked like ants scurrying around a massive stone crown.  
	"I shouldn't have come here," Mo whispered to himself again. 
	"Finally," Yen said quietly as the car slowed and they stood up,  
"you say something wise."
	



	Night fell.




	Dave scolded himself as he threw his PDA onto the night-stand by 
the bed.  Timmy was in the next room, sleeping soundly.  He had no 
right to wake the boy by tossing stuff around.
	They had all been assigned guest quarters.  Roomy.  Spacious.  
Ancient.  The history in the room was enough to choke him.  The lamp-
shades were older than most countries on Earth.  The stained-glass 
windows would have made the Hadassah Medical Center's artworks look 
like pop-culture modern art.  The bed still held the ninety billion 
souls of the dust mite empire that lived and died in its sheets.  
	At least wine got better with age.  
	There were casks of ancient, potent wine behind a small wet-bar 
enclave in his room.  Dave had found himself tapping a goblet simply 
out of curiosity, but the second goblet had been out of frustration and 
anger.  
	It was rich.  Bittersweet like good, old dark chocolate.  Red 
like rubies and blood.  His tongue told him it was more potent than 
whiskey, but it was far too smooth to sip as such.  
	The balcony afforded to him a view of Trut, or rather, the 
Eastern half of Trut.  He sat against the waist-high rail with a third 
goblet of the wine in his hands, and he found himself longing for home.  
	He remembered one of the first times Maury and Chris had coaxed 
him out for a couple of drinks.  He had been completely blindsided by 
the effect of intoxication.  It was as if he had suddenly gone from 
living in his brain to watching someone like him living in it.  The 
third-person perspective had been frightening at first, but curious and 
intriguing after the first few hours.
	Chris.  Damn that boy.  He wouldn't give up.  He knew Dave had 
some answers.  Theories.  It was only by sheer luck he didn't ask the 
right questions.  
	Maury.  That boy played him far too well.  Guessed his weakness 
and pressed in hard.  Dave had made a promise to himself never to drink 
with the man during war-time when secrets were precious.  
	Minako.  He had returned to her that night.  They had sex.  A lot 
of good, hard, wet sex.  Hot sex.  They had done so before, and they 
had done so afterwards, but that night had been the best.  When he had 
just let go to all of the Omega Point and let the instinct come back to 
him.  At the time, he thought nothing could have ever changed how he 
felt about her during those hot, passion-soaked nights.  
	Of course, he knew the complications.  He cursed himself for 
knowing all of the complications.  
	Every kiss, touch, look or embrace, he wondered if it was enough.  
If it was right.  He fooled himself for the longest time, believing in 
the old adage that opposites attracted.  A foolish genius and a 
responsible mental midget.  Cruel things in his mind told him that she 
was beneath him.  Those were the things he hated about being so 
separate from Humanity, and yet, they spoke with tiny, annoying, burr-
like truths that stuck to him even in his most accepting moods. 
	He had almost finished the third goblet of wine when he realized 
his PDA was ringing.  A call.  On an emergency channel.  No.  His 
personal red-alert code.  
	Only three people in the known Cosmos knew that code.  He didn't 
bother standing, but instead transported himself to the tiny card-like 
computer and hit the side of it to activate the call.  
	The card clicked and flickered to life.  A small display jumped 
up into mid-air and showed the call was coming through on a tunnelling 
frequency which the O.W. had developed thanks to Dave's journey to Eden 
years before.  
	"Dave?" Minako asked, shocked.  "Is that you?"
	"More or less," Dave smiled.  "I'm glad the new cards work this 
far out."
	"Where are you?" she asked.  "Your voice seems kind of shaky."
	"The Negaverse.  It will probably-"
	"WHAT?!?"
	Dave cringed, suddenly remembering the large amounts of Negaverse 
wine in his body.  "Please, Mina, not so loud.  It's late here."
	The request did little to lower her volume.  "Why are you in the 
Negaverse?  Is Maury they with you?  Makoto's worried sick!  We asked 
Rei to do a reading on him and she said she couldn't find him!"
	"He's fine.  We're fine," Dave sighed, quietly adjusting the 
volume on the call by sliding his finger across the opaque control 
panel.  "I told you, he's going to be put up for questioning."
	"You didn't say where!"
	"I didn't know where," Dave mumbled.  "And I knew you'd just 
worry if you knew, once I knew where we were going."
	Minako said nothing. 
	"I trust the emperor," Dave said.  "He's intrigued with Earth and 
he wants peace.  But not everyone's convinced.  I'll make sure Maury 
stays safe."
	"How?" someone else demanded.  
	Dave groaned inwardly.  "Sailor Jupiter.  A pleasure to-"
	"Cut the crap, Dave," Makoto said tiredly.  "When are you 
bringing Maury back to me?"
	"Do you want an exact date or just a guesstimate?"
	"Do you want me to kick you in the ribs or the nuts when I see 
you next?" she growled.
	Dave rubbed his forehead.  "Can we leave it at 'soon' and just 
give me a kidney punch?"
	"And what do you mean about trusting the emperor?" Makoto 
demanded.  "You spend a day around him and you suddenly think he's the 
best thing since sliced bread?  What does Maury say?  Can I talk to 
him?"
	"Maury's the one that convinced me," Dave said.  "I'll be 
defending him during his questioning-"
	"You mean trial, don't you?" Makoto said.  The anger in her voice 
was giving way to panic.
	"Yes, fine, I mean trial," Dave sighed.  "Either way, I'll ensure 
he is safe."
	"What if-"
	"Stop," Dave said loudly, surprising her.  "Put Minako back on 
the line, please."
	There was a sigh, then a quiet shuffle of phone-equipment amidst 
muttering and whispering in Japanese.  Then, finally, Minako was back 
on.  "I'm back."
	Dave nodded.  "Listen.  I know she's worried.  We all are.  But 
this has to be done.  If the worst happens we can transport away, no 
harm done.  You have to trust me."
	"Then stop treating us like p-" Minako stopped herself, but 
sighed.  "Dave, we're feeling pretty powerless here.  You can't expect 
us to just sit by while everything is going to heck.  Let us help.  Let 
us do something.  You can't do this all on your own."
	"I'm not doing it on my own," Dave said.  "If you recall, it was 
the Web who first contacted you."
	"I haven't seen you in months," Minako said.  "Dave, you keep 
saying there are all these big things happening, but you never tell me 
what's going on."
	"Have I ever let you down?" Dave said finally.  
	"Pardon?"
	"Have I ever," Dave said angrily, "in the years I've known you 
and the Senshi, have I ever let you down?"
	"No," she said, then gave a tired little laugh.  "No, I suppose 
not."
	"It's late," Dave said, after a long pause.
	"I'm sorry," she said.  "Alright.  I'll let you get some sleep.  
Can I call you tomorrow?"
	"I'll call," Dave said.  
	"Okay.  Goodnight," Minako said.  
	Dave hit the card and the call terminated.  "Yeah.  Goodnight," 
he said, flopping down on the bed.  "Pawns.  She was going to say 
pawns."
	Despite his fatigue, he stayed awake far into the night, unable 
to close his eyes as he thought about the next few days.  











	Mr. Feffah had survived a lot of torment throughout his long, 
illustrious life as a stuffed bunny.  His girlfriend, Mrs. Hoss, had 
not been so lucky when Sonia had been inducted into the Omega Web.  She 
had accidentally ripped the bunny in half during the painful seizures 
accompanying the change in her mind.  
	She had never understood why her father laughed every time she 
said their names, until after the Omega Point, when she remembered she 
hadn't realized the word 'Hasenpfeffer' was a rabbit dish, and simply 
assumed Bugs Bunny made up a silly word.  Hoss and Feffah.  
	Well, with his girlfriend gone, Feffah was a tad lonely these 
days, and Sonia had recently found him stuffed under her bed.  She had 
washed him up, mended a few loose stitches, and now had the habit of 
using him as a pillow when she was relaxing, watching television or 
working on her computer.
	As Sonia read more and more of Dave's letter, however, Mr. Feffah 
was getting squeezed tighter and tighter in her arms.  She felt light-
headed.  As if she was reading the Declaration of Independence just 
before it was signed.  Or a draft of the Antarctica Defence Treaty of 
Seventeen-Oh-Nine.  
	She found herself deleting the document the moment she was 
finished with it, but the words were still seared onto her eyes as she 
tried to blink them away.
	Slowly, she reached for her PDA.  It connected after a moment, 
and she saw a half-sleeping Dave Reinquest floating in front of her.  
"This had better be important," he grumbled. 
	"Anarchy," Sonia said.  "What you're proposing is anarchy."
	Dave blinked, then a small smile slipped onto his lips.  "You 
read it?"
	"It's insane," she insisted.  
	"Have you no faith in us?" Dave asked.  "If the Omega Web hasn't 
finally grown to civility, then I think our problems are a lot worse 
than anarchy."
	Sonia nodded, squeezing Feffah tightly.  Dave didn't have the 
heart to tell her that one of the stuffed bunny's eyes had popped out 
and was dangling by a thread.  
	"Some of them will fight you on this," she continued.  "Some 
won't want to do this."
	Dave nodded.  "But you agree with me," he grinned.  "I know you 
do."
	Sonia sat there, frozen in her chair.  
	"Tell me I'm crazy and I'll stop.  But you know this is 
necessary.  A lot of the others will agree, too.  I'm tired of running 
the day-care," Dave said.  There was a bit of frustration in his voice 
that Sonia couldn't decide the origin of.  "Sonia.  Are you with me on 
this?"
	She swallowed back the worry in her throat.  "Yeah.  I guess I 
am."
	"No guessing-"
	"Yes," she said with a nod.  "Yes.  I am."
	They sat, looking at each other for a moment.  Finally, Dave 
nodded.  "Tell Jules, Banks and Ricardo.  I think they'll understand.  
Keep it quiet as possible."
	"Dell too," Sonia said quietly.  "I think she'd be okay with it.  
Never did get the hang of Penguinspace."
	Dave smiled.  "Thanks."
	Sonia sighed and shrugged.  "For what?"
	"For reversing a shitty evening," Dave said.
	"Goodnight, Dave," Sonia said. 
	"Goodnight."
	Sonia turned away from the computer and her PDA, dragging Mr. 
Feffah with her to bed.  They looked similarly ragged, even without her 
eye hanging out.    











Chapter 25











	Nathan woke to hear a gentle clicking and rattling.  He sighed, 
figuring Jean was once more setting up his equipment for a 
transmission.  When he heard the startled gasp of a woman, however, he 
spun around and found the source.  
	A young woman was sitting next to Jean's backpack, carefully 
examining each piece of camera equipment.  She seemed to have been 
startled when a light turned on, and was now laughing quietly to 
herself as she found the switch to control it.  Jean was also just 
waking up, and he looked extremely angry. 
	"Get the hell away from my camera," he demanded, grabbing the 
nearest metal object he could.  The microphone stand looked suitably 
threatening, Nathan thought, but the woman didn't seem too concerned.  
	"Amazing!" she gasped as she found the button to change the 
colour of the light to a dull red for night photography.  "What do you 
use this for?"
	"I said get away!" Jean growled, swinging the microphone stand at 
her.  Even though it was made to miss and only scare her, it ricocheted 
off a sudden burst of red light around her body.  He gasped and fell 
back on his ass as if he had just been struck by a car.  The woman, 
however, just looked up at him casually and sighed as if his attack had 
been an unwelcome breeze.  
	"Civility, please," she said, turning off the light and placing 
it down on the pile of equipment.  "If you wish to act like an animal, 
you have but to let me know, and I can indulge your wishes by sending 
you to be killed by my children."
	Jean coughed and shook his head weakly.  
	"And you?" she turned to Nathan.  
	"I'm fine with civility," he said with a forced smile. 
	"Very good," she smiled and stood, sliding her hands down on her 
robes to flatten their creases from kneeling.  "You may call me 
Mistress Marish.  I believe you to be Nathan and you to be Jean.  Am I 
correct?"
	Both men nodded.
	"Very good," she said.  "Now, I'm afraid we must dispense with 
the frivolous pleasantries, as today is a very important day, and I 
would like to request your assistance." 
	"You want our help?" Jean laughed.  "You can't be serious."
	"It would guarantee your safety," Marish said.  "I wish you no 
harm, but when you move my servants to tears, I must admit that I would 
also not mourn you if you were to die here.  I ask your assistance so 
you might redeem yourself." 
	"Bullshit," Jean spat.  "I'll have no part in this."
	"Jean," Nathan said, turning to the man.  "Calm down."
	Something in Nathan's voice made Jean do a double take.  He 
glared at the Marine for a moment, then slowly, reluctantly turned back 
to Marish.  "What exactly do you want?"
	"Your equipment," Marish said.  "Gibson said you were using it to 
capture his image and voice?"
	"Yeah, it's called a video camera," Jean said, dusting himself 
off.  
	"And you can watch these events again afterwards?" she asked with 
a strange desire in her eyes.  "Or show others?"
	Jean nodded.  "With the right equipment, yeah.  As many times as 
you want."
	Marish looked as if she was suddenly a young girl given the keys 
to a candy store.  She rushed over to Jean and grabbed his hand.  He 
flinched, but the red burst of light did not come.  "Tell me, Jean, do 
you have people like me in your world?  People who strive for new 
things?"
	"You mean psychotic mur-"
	"Jean," Nathan coughed.  
	The camera-man shot him a dirty look.  "You mean, like 
scientists?  Inventors?"
	"Yes!" she gasped.  "Exactly!  Do they use these video cameras 
to..." she paused, looking for the words. 
	"Preserve for posterity?" Nathan offered helpfully, earning 
another dirty look from Jean.  
	"Yeah, I suppose they do," Jean said.
	Marish forced herself back and seemed to recompose herself into a 
small grin instead of her widening, joyous smile.  "Very well.  I would 
like you to assist me by video cameraing my greatest experiment."
	"The term is recording.  Video recording," Jean said.
	"Oh, very good!" she laughed.  "That sounds much nicer.  
Recording.  Yes."
	Jean cleared his throat.  "What exactly would I be recording?"
	"Well," Marish said, clearing her throat.  "There are some 
routines with the cherubs which must be observed.  And your colleague.  
Mister Devon requested that her sessions be preserved for posterity."
	"Fine," Jean said quickly, surprising both Marish and Nathan.  
"I'll do it."
	Marish's smile returned.  "Excellent!  How long does it take to 
set up?"
	"Give me an hour," Jean said.  
	"Very well, I'll have your meal waiting outside," Marish bowed 
her head.  "Thank you, Jean.  I'm sure we'll have great fun."
	"I can't wait," Jean said stiffly as the woman bowed to both of 
them, then left the room, re-sealing the door behind her.  
	Nathan watched Jean rush to his camera bag and start to assemble 
the device.  "You have a plan?" the Marine asked.  
	"Hell no," Jean said hurriedly.  "A plan is your job.  I'm just 
not sitting here while my friend gets tortured."
	"Even if you have to video tape it?" Nathan asked quietly.  
	Jean turned to him.  "I promised myself I'd show the world what 
was going on here.  It's either this or I sit here and do nothing, 
right?"
	Nathan slowly laid back down on his bed and sighed.  "You're a 
brave man, Jean.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."











	The sun was fading from the room when Jesminder was woken by a 
cry of pain.  At first, she was almost surprised it had not come from 
her own mouth.
	Her eyes fluttered open and she saw the instrument of her torture 
hung in front of her as always.  The god-damned razor-weed.  It had 
gotten smaller.  Thinner.  Sharper.  Every day, it seemed to get worse.  
Every day, a small puddle of greenish water was laying beneath the 
vine, and she knew it would dig into her skin just that much more.  
Devon was now up to a dozen lashes on her, never asking about military 
or cultural secrets.  He never asked about personal feelings or the 
powers of her friends.  They always seemed so silly.  The last 
question, which had increased her lashings by two a day, was simply:  
"Do you enjoy the smell of rain?"
	She had said yes, and now her forearms were raw and blistered 
from trying to protect her face.  Her shirt was tattered, and it was 
only by the sheer wonder of modern textiles that her bra had not 
suffered the same fate.  Her legs were also sporting welts, and she 
felt her left leg sting just under her knee when she moved it.  Blood 
was finally clotting from the night before. 
	Another cry knocked Jess out of her mental status check and she 
turned to see Tambre shivering with sweat beading off of her skin.  The 
woman's hair and clothes were soaking wet from whatever was happening 
to her, and the bulge in her stomach seemed impossibly large since just 
a day or two before.  
	"He promised," Tambre whimpered, noticing Jess' shocked eyes were 
cast her way.  "He said he'd come before this happened."
	"Who did?" Jesminder asked wearily.
	"Chris.  He promised he'd end it before this happened," she said 
with a tiny smile.  "Do you suppose that this means he's on his way 
right now?  Angels don't make promises lightly, you know."
	"I know," Jess smiled sadly.  "How much longer?"
	"I think it's just learning it has claws," Tambre whispered, but 
then let out a tiny, breathless scream, trying in vain to reach down to 
hold her stomach.  
	All was silent for a long, heart-stopping moment, then, slowly, 
Tambre's belly began to move, stretching out to a point near her navel.
	"Oh, God...no..." she cried out as the point turned blood-red and 
a tiny bone-white claw quietly punctured through her flesh. 
	"SOMEBODY!  ANYONE!" Jess screamed, lashing against her chains.  
"Help her for God's sake!" she shouted, trying in vain to reach the 
only weapon near by with her feet.  The vine stayed just out of reach 
of her flailing feet.  
	Tambre just kept staring at the point extending from her stomach, 
completely breathless and in shock.  "It doesn't hurt," she murmured 
quietly as the needle-thin point retracted back into her body.    











	Marish returned early, just as Jean had assembled his camera.  
"Hurry!  It's time!" she said happily.  
	Jean turned to Nathan and nodded, then followed the woman out the 
door.  It closed.  It did not, however, seem to re-seal with magic.  
	Nathan quietly stood on his legs, and grinned with satisfaction 
that they did not complain under his weight.  He strung his tactical 
vest around his body, then quickly ripped up a portion of his blanket 
to create a makeshift silencer for one of his pistols.
	His knife, the only recognizable weapon to Edenites, had been 
confiscated, but he had a nylon edge built into his backpack, hidden in 
one of the straps.  He ripped the ready-made seam out of the strap and 
pulled out the tiny makeshift knife.  
	Then, listening at the door and hearing nothing, he slowly pushed 
it open.  It came away easily, and he found himself staring face-to-
face with Gibson, who had been bringing his meal.  
	"What are-" the giant man gasped, then said nothing as his throat 
turned into a bright red line from Nathan's nylon knife.  His hands 
came up to the cut, but he was already falling over.  
	Nathan caught him and the metal food tray before it could fall 
and clatter on the floor in one smooth move.  He carefully placed 
Gibson on his bed as the man finally gurgled his last and stopped 
moving.  Gibson's body was far too big to be a decoy, but it would fool 
a quick glance into the room, Nathan hoped.  He quickly searched the 
man's body, finding only a few stone and metal tablets in his pants 
wrapped in cloth.  
	Jean's blanket was used to hide the blood on the floor, and 
Nathan grabbed all he could of the ointments and bandages from the 
basin as he prepared himself for the battle ahead.  He bolted out the 
door, barely remembering to close it before he left.  
	There were no cherubs in the hall for once, and he felt uneasy, 
wondering where they all could be.  The walls were roughly hewn stone 
and the roof was high, but their masks would have cast down far too 
much light for them to hide, even on the roof. 
	The halls were simple enough, arranged in long, winding corridors 
as if water had once flown through these passages.  Jean had been 
right.  They were most likely in an abandoned cave.  Even with the 
stonework done to make the place more hospitable, he began to see signs 
pointing to the source of the long-gone water, and hopefully the way 
out. 
	He passed three other cells, all of which seemed empty as the 
doors were all cracked open for ventilation, but he did smell blood in 
one and slowed to ensure none of his friends were inside.
	"Not complaining," he whispered to himself as he ran around the 
corner, gun ready, "but where the hell is everyone?"











	Jean turned the corner and felt his entire body freeze in horror, 
even before the image before him had been fully processed by his brain.  
	Three of the giant centaur-like monsters were in the room, 
standing across from Tambre, who was still chained to her seat with her 
arms attached to the ceiling.  Jesminder gasped as she saw Jean, and it 
was only due to the many claws and wings in his way that he restrained 
himself from rushing over to help.  
	Marish looked so happy, waltzing through the myriad of cherubs 
and petting their white, sickly skin as affectionately as any pet.  
"Jean!  Please, hurry, I want you to record this."
	He nodded weakly.  "I, uhm...I can set up here," he said, 
readying his camera.  
	"Good!  Good!" Marish said, eyes bright.  "This is always so 
incredible.  The beginning of a new life!  A new creation!"
	Jess turned to Jean with a frightened, questioning look.  He 
responded by flipping up the transmission antenna on the back of his 
camera, and realization filled her eyes.  
	"I'm sorry," he said quietly. 
	She shook her head and smiled.  "Don't be.  Just do it." 
	"Jean!" Marish said impatiently.  "Are you ready?"
	"Recording now," he announced quietly.  His camera now displayed 
a tiny red light on the front, and a gentle green blinking on the back 
as the transmitter activated, hoping to be heard.  











	Nathan continued stalking around the compound.  He had easily 
found the main torture chamber, but the six cherubs guarding the door 
had made a rescue attempt unthinkable.  
	He had never, not once in his entire life, wished for fifty 
pounds of C-4 more than that moment.  He grimly continued on, now 
knowing the reason there was so little resistance in the halls.  Tambre 
was about to die.  
	Another hall brought him safely around the cherub-filled path, 
and he passed by new rooms that were furnished like barracks and 
officers quarters.  He heard snoring behind two locked doors, and 
several more were locked with magic but silent within, but no 
indication which way was out.  
	Finally, just as panic was starting to creep up on his nerves, he 
felt wind through his hair.  He ran as quickly and quietly as he could, 
sliding to stops and doubling back every time he heard hooves or saw 
the bright light from the cherubs' masks reaching down the rocky 
passages.  
	He reached a thin metal gate which opened quietly despite the 
rust on its hinges.  It led to a long T-shaped hallway, and seemed to 
hold no more of the monsters and no voices.  He ran down the hall and 
slid to a stop as he found the ground wet with moisture.  
	The water came from the right path, and he was about to bolt up 
the incline when he heard a sickly screaming sound from the opposite 
direction.  He froze, fearing a cherub had seen him, but when nothing 
came and the screams and murmurs persisted despite his movement, he 
decided to check it out in case it was an unguarded path back to the 
torture room.  
	Nathan pressed himself against the wall, pistol at the ready and 
knife held in his off hand with his left thumb looped through the 
lanyard hole in the nylon blade.  
	He turned the corner to a huge, dark cave.  Dark pillars of stone 
created a cathedral-like effect.  The room stretched further into the 
cave than his eyes would allow him to see, and he noticed a huge metal 
cage around the entrance that he was standing in.  
	On the floor he saw a massive, cubicle-like grid of stables.  
Wooden walls and metal beams separated the massive space into dozens 
and hundreds of tiny rooms.  Inside nearly all of them was the white, 
horse-like form of an Aszap Cherub.  
	Nathan felt himself turn cold as the bright, flashlight-like face 
of one of them turned towards him, and his mind was filled with a 
terrible hissing sound.  
	"Oh dear God..." he whispered, looking at the army amassed below.
	All of a sudden, more and more of their faces turned to him, 
locking on their target with eerie precision.  Nathan didn't wait to 
see if the cage would hold.  He turned and bolted for the exit.  











	"This is an historic moment," Marish said brightly, even as 
Tambre sobbed next to her.  "The process has always been so wasteful.  
So much effort for such a beautiful miracle, but only a single miracle 
at one time."
	The three cherubs around them stood perfectly still, though their 
claws gently tapped on the stone ground, making a kind of macabre wind-
chime sound.
	Jess ignored Marish completely, knowing anything she said to the 
woman would be useless.  "Tambre, look at me," she said, trying to 
focus the girl.  "You can fight this.  Will it to stop.  Make it stop."
	"I can't," Tambre sobbed, wincing as a thin red line slid across 
her stomach.  "I can't feel anything, she cried.  It all feels like 
fire.  It..." her eyes went wide. 
	"Tambre!" Jesminder shouted.  "What is it?  No, don't you..."
	Her voice trailed off as she saw the puddle seep out from under 
the young woman.  Dark, black-flecked blood began soaking her white 
dress at an alarming rate.  
	"Such a dramatic process, isn't it?" Marish said.  "One life ends 
and gives birth to such a wonderful new miracle.  Tambre, you've been 
such a good girl," she said, walking over to her.  "It's okay.  You can 
let it happen.  It will be over in just a second."
	"Get the HELL away from her you sick bitch!" Jess screamed as 
Marish caressed Tambre's cheek with her hand.  "Tambre...don't let 
her..."
	Tambre was turning pale from the loss of blood, and more and more 
pinprick-like claws began to puncture her stomach as the thing inside 
her fought its way out through her intestines.  
	"I'm sorry," she whispered weakly to Jess.  "I wanted to hold on, 
but..."
	Jess turned away, horrified as a splatter of blood covered her 
face.  Tambre looked down in a silent scream, but nothing came out of 
her mouth as the claws began to cut ribbon-like sections away from her 
flesh.  Marish stood back, ignoring the blood on her own robes, 
watching the event with her hands clasped in hope.  
	Finally, Tambre stopped shaking, and the lake of blood beneath 
her stopped expanding.  Her head slumped forward, but she was still 
held up by the chains on her arms.  
	Jess had to bite her lip to keep from vomiting as the tiny cherub 
rose out from the gaping hole in Tambre's body.  It looked like a slug 
with only the vaguest forms of horse-legs and tiny, feathery tufts on 
its gore-soaked back.  As it stepped out onto the dead woman's legs, it 
shook itself free of some of the blood, but only succeeded in spraying 
it everywhere.  A trio of inch-long, bloody claws were on each of its 
skeletal arms.
	It turned to Jesminder with its shrivelled, burn-victim-baby face 
and screeched at her.  Its voice felt like rusted nails in her ears and 
she screamed in pain, unable to force it out of her mind.  
	Then, another screech.  
	
	And another.  

	Two smaller (and progressively uglier) Aszap Cherubim came 
crawling out of the hole, dripping with a combined sludge of bile and 
feces as well as gore.  Jean was finally overcome by the smell and he 
fell to the ground, vomiting even as Marish played the happy new mother 
and picked them each out of the corpse with a soft, white blanket.  
	"Incredible," she whispered, caressing each of their tiny faces 
in turn with all the adoration of a mother.  "Triplets.  I was hoping 
for twins, and yet you've blessed me with more than I could ever hope 
for."
	Three men in grey robes came rushing into the room.  One began to 
unlock Tambre's body from the stone bench, while another began to mop 
up the blood with a wet rag.  
	"Where are you taking her?" Jesminder demanded.
	"Who?" Marish asked, cradling the smallest cherub as the third 
man helped take the other two away.  
	"Tambre!"
	"Tambre?  Oh," Marish shrugged, as if the name meant little to 
her anymore.  "Out with the other refuse."
	Jess felt herself shaking.  "What??"
	"We used to let the new babies eat their host, but their fathers 
insisted we not give them..." Marish paused.  "...used bodies.  She'll 
be tossed out with the other garbage, unless of course you would enjoy 
keeping the smell," she said with a small chuckle.
	The three adult Aszap stood there, completely still, but one had 
its gaze firmly stuck on Jess.  A sick, humid feeling came over her and 
she turned away, unable to bear anymore.
	Freed from the shackles, Tambre's body was hoisted up over the 
servant's shoulders, and he lumbered out of the room with the girl.  
Her face was hidden by her hair, but Jess could still see her 
expression of pain from just a moment ago.  
	"You're sick," Jesminder told Marish as she walked over to Jean.  
"You're sick, and they're going to stop you.  If it's not by Chris, 
then it will be someone else who knows how fucking sick you are."
	"Miss Simrit," Marish said politely, "I'm afraid you are wasting 
your breath.  I have long since resigned myself to the knowledge that 
so very few will be able to see the brilliance in my work.  I'm sorry 
you couldn't share in the joy of this day," she sighed, sounding truly 
apologetic, as if she was depriving Jess of some amazing thing.  
	Jesminder worked her mouth for a good, long moment, and before 
Marish realized what she was doing, spat on the woman and the thing in 
her arms.  "Fuck.  You."
	Marish used her robe to clean off the Cherub's confused, 
shrivelled face and then her own.  "A true pity.  I'm so, so sorry."
	Jess kicked at her chains, but the woman was too far away to 
attack like she had done before.  
	"Jean?" Marish said, turning to the pale camera-man.  "I believe 
we are done now.  Did your camera see everything?"
	He nodded weakly.  "Yeah."
	"Good.  Then come-"
	"I'll need some time to imprint it," Jean said quickly. "If we 
move the camera the images will be lost."
	Marish sighed, looking at the camera, then back to Jean.  "Very 
well.  How much time do you need?"
	"At least an hour," he said.
	"Such a fickle thing," Marish smiled.  "Needing to digest for so 
long.  But I suppose it was quite a meal, wasn't it?"
	Jean swallowed back the taste of acid in his mouth and nodded.  
"Yeah.  Guess so."
	Marish turned to one of the guards.  "Make sure you take him back 
to his room when the camera is ready.  Don't disturb him until then, 
just guard the doors."
	The guard nodded and escorted her out as the baby cherub started 
hissing at Jean, leaving him and Jess relatively alone.  All that was 
left was a huge, red puddle where Tambre had been.  The moment the door 
closed, he walked over and sat down next to her, looking up at the 
ceiling.  
	Neither of them said anything for a very, very long time. 











	The first stone skipped by unnoticed.  The second stone, however, 
careened right off of the cherub's neck.  It spun around, raising its 
claws high.  
	Nathan ducked under them easily, stood between its arms, and shot 
two bullets into its brain from behind its jawbone point blank.  It 
shook violently for a moment, then dropped down dead around him.  
	He had no time to savour his victory, however, as he heard the 
other two Aszaps howling behind him.  He had made a lucky dodge into an 
unlocked and empty room, but they had quickly realized their mistake 
when they ran past and could no longer see their prey.  
	With a kick to rid himself of the bony arm across his foot, he 
jumped past the corpse and scrambled up the incline as fast as his 
aching legs could carry him.  A trail of silver blood dripped from his 
gun's muzzle.
	The ramp itself seemed to be designed for aerial takeoff rather 
than exit by foot, and he found himself slipping on loose stones and 
wet gravel as he propelled himself upwards towards sky.  Sky.  Actual 
sky.  Blue, and yellow-white clouds and the sounds of an ocean.  Maybe 
they were back on the coast?  
	His foot slipped and he smacked face-first into the stone.  On 
reflex, he kicked out his other foot against the wall, and his nylon 
knife skidded into a small crack, giving him purchase to stop his 
slide.  Nathan tasted blood on his tongue from biting his lip, but it 
was the least of his worries as he heard a resounding, screaming echo 
behind him.  
	The cherubs had finally caught up with him.  They howled in rage 
both inside his head and audibly in his ears.  Both sounds made him 
flinch, but he used his time to prepare an attack by reading his other 
pistol with its full clip.  
	"Alright, you dirty bastards," Nathan growled, taking time to aim 
at one of their masks.  "Do it."
	They both charged at him, wings and hooves providing far more 
speed than he had been expecting.  He managed three shots into the 
first one's head and torso (only the head shot seemed to matter), then 
pulled his leg and knife free of the tunnel.  
	The cherub lunged at him just as he resumed his slide.  A claw 
found his vest and shoulder, digging a bright red gouge through him.  
He grunted in pain, but managed to lash out with the tiny dagger in his 
hand, sinking it deep within the beast's hind calf muscle.
	Before he could attempt another shot, he found himself surrounded 
by sky as the Cherub's momentum pulled them both free of last few 
meters of the tunnel.  Freefall gripped him and he felt his stomach 
lurch as he aimed his pistol at the Aszap.
	It flapped its massive wings, gaining altitude enough to begin a 
charge, but Nathan had already brought his gun up to defend.  He fired 
five dizzy shots before one finally struck the Aszap's skull and killed 
it.  The shot caused it to go limp and start to drift above him instead 
of ramming into him with claws and hooves outstretched.  It was only by 
sheer luck that he had been mostly straight up and down in the air as 
he struck the ocean.
	He scrambled to swim against momentum, holding the last of his 
hastily saved breath as he clawed his way to the surface again.  His 
boots and gear made him seem three times as heavy, and the flickering 
waves above seemed impossibly far away.
	With every muscle in his body demanding oxygen and his shoulder 
about to freeze up from the painful, deep cut, he finally broke the 
surface and sucked in a massive lungful of air.  
	"Well," he told himself hoarsely, looking up at the massive 
anthill-like tower rising up from the waves next to him.  "That wasn't 
so bad-"
	That's when the dead cherub fell on him. 











Pax inter Terra quod Abyssus
 Chapter 26











	It had been a while since he had dreamed of Celeste and not 
considered it a nightmare.

	He was young, barely anything that could have been considered a 
man.  She was a bit older, beautiful as a lucky star and inviting as a 
hug on a cold day.  Even back then, on Sol two thousand years ago, 
their romance was stuff of legends.  Young, destined love so pure and 
sweet.
	All things considered, it was still incredible what a few years 
of blistering hot nookie with a tomboyish Sailor Senshi could make him 
forget.  He would have thought the dreams of Celeste would have haunted 
him long after Tumbler was defeated.  Not too surprisingly, in Makoto's 
arms, they weren't that frequent.  The occasional nightmare had shown 
up but it was nothing he hadn't been able to handle.
	"You're sleepy," she said to him as he found his head cradled on 
her lap.  "They're talking about you right now, you know."
	"Just five more minutes, mommy," Maury joked, looking up at her.  
	He remembered this day.  He was late for his own coronation.  
Celeste had disapproved, finding him lounging on one of the lower decks 
between the massive ion engines that kept the platform aloft.  
	Through years of exploration, he had found a small, long-
forgotten storage closet that was in the exact acoustic center of all 
the engines.  While the engines produced an annoying whine normally, at 
this hidden location, there was instead a gentle hum that always put 
him to sleep.  
	"It's important to them," she smiled softly.
	"Everyone knows it already," Mo sighed.  "I'm the Prince.  Of 
course I'll get the throne after dad retires."
	"You're assuming that is the whole point of the ceremony," 
Celeste said.  "To assure a successor."
	"Isn't it?" Mo asked. 
	"They want to give it to you," she laughed lightly.  "It means so 
much more when they can give it to you, instead of you just having to 
take it because of who your parents are."
	Mo let out a long breath and nodded.  "Alright, but did they have 
to do it so damn early in the morning?"
	"It's past midday."
	"Oh, well, I'm sleeping in," Mo grinned up at her, leaning up for 
a kiss.
	"Oh baby," Dave Reinquest said, suddenly holding him in his lap.  
"You're so cute."
	
	Mo jumped awake and saw the grinning face of Dave only an inch 
from his.  "BLARHG!" he shouted, pushing himself back from the side of 
the cage.  
	Dave chuckled, hands in his pockets.  "You alright?  You were 
talking in your sleep.  Didn't sound like a nightmare, though."
	"Very funny," Maury said, wiping the drool from his mouth as he 
leaned back into the bars around him.  He had spent the night in a 
semi-standing position, and true to Yen's words, he had spent most of 
it reciting a five-minute-long torrent of apologies and oaths never to 
be a bad little Senshi ever again.  "What time is it?"
	"Just about time," Dave sighed, looking up at the assembling 
crowd.  "Last night was nuts.  A bunch of people tried to break in and 
kill you."
	"Exciting," Mo said dryly as Dave slipped a cup of water through 
the bars for him.  "Did they win?"
	"No, but you'll notice every heavily armed guard here has a 
pretty twitchy trigger finger now.  They killed three guards and have 
their heads on pikes outside.  They add a nice touch to the 'traitor' 
propaganda signs most of the crowd is carrying."
	The water felt very good as Maury drank it.  He suspected Dave 
had added some fancy Omega Web goodness to it, as he no longer felt 
weary.  
	Dave grinned at the returning awareness to Mo's face.  "They put 
you in this cage and fatigue you for a night so you'll be more pliable 
to their questions.  I figure this should help make sure they don't 
corner you into saying the wrong thing."
	"What?  You don't trust me to not make an ass of myself?"
	"I do," Dave said, taking the empty cup from him.  "But a lot 
more is on the line than my trust of you, now isn't it?"
	Mo nodded.  "Point taken."
	"Waddin is going to be your accuser," Dave said quietly.  "He's 
eloquent and has the people rallied up against you.  Sanis and I agree 
that the truth is going to be a hard sell, but it's the truth and we 
may as well push it.  If questions get into more current events, focus 
on the fact that your actions were in self defence."
	"Should be simple enough," Mo shrugged.
	"Let me do the talking, though," Dave said.  "They've had lawyers 
here since before law existed on Earth.  Unless they're asking you 
directly, I'll answer.  If all hell breaks loose, follow my lead."
	Mo raised an eyebrow.  "What do you mean if all hell breaks 
loose?"
	Dave sighed.  "Well, if I can't get you off the charges, you'll 
be executed on the spot.  They've assumed that a standard poke to your 
kidneys won't work, so they've installed a string-disruptor field in 
your cage here.  Plasma or not, you'll just cease to exist."
	"Fun times."
	Reinquest nodded, then pat Mo on the shoulder.  "I'd wish us 
luck, but I know you Senshi have that silly aversion to it."
	"Nah, that's just Fiss," Mo chuckled.  "I'll take it where I can 
get it."
	A sudden fanfare announced the arrival of Emperor Sanis, and the 
crowd's chattering was reduced to a dull murmur as the procession of 
officials began arriving.  
	The semi-circle benches were filled with people from top to 
bottom except for a long, marble bench at the very base, and the 
Emperor's throne which was rising out of the floor across from them.
	Sanis himself was dressed in long, flowing red robes and wore an 
incredibly pointy-looking crown on his tiny head.  He was flanked by 
two figures dressed all in black, and Maury guessed that one of them 
was the Yen guy that he had been talking to yesterday.  
	Mo also saw a number of other honour guards spaced throughout the 
bleachers and by the main doors as they were sealed.  He felt oddly 
secure in the fact that there were so many armed people here ready to 
prevent a riot.  
	It would be messy, he decided, if it did turn into one.  Almost 
two thousand people filled the room, and he could hear people scattered 
behind the giant pillars in the distance, likely watching the event on 
view screens.  
	A number of stuffy-looking old men and women lining the bench and 
began to open up giant, dusty tomes, readying their tiny reading 
glasses and other instruments, including an array of colourful crystals 
on the desk.  
	Finally, next to the Emperor, Dolesbur and Waddin walked up to 
the circle.  Dave walked over to the opposite side of the throne, where 
Timmy was waving at Mo, enthusiastically as always.  When they had 
arrived and bowed to Sanis, the young Emperor stood from his throne.  
	"From this moment on, let all that occurs here in this hallowed 
place, be part of justice," Sanis announced loudly.  His voice carried 
in the stone halls and everyone was silent before the echoes stopped.  
"I, the sixty-forth Emperor of the New Age, Lord Sanis, command that 
the curtain be drawn, and bid this trial to begin."
	One of the dusty old men at the bench reached over and touched 
one of the crystals before him.  It flickered red, and a beam of fire-
like light flew from one of its facetted faces up to the roof.  
	Slowly, like molasses flowing downhill, a heavy red velvet 
curtain began to descend over the entire circle of bleachers and 
people.  
	"Let all those enemies of truth, justice and judgement leave now.  
This trial will not end until justice is done," Sanis continued.  
	A few scared-looking people ducked under the curtain in time to 
leave.  A few more looked hesitant, but most stayed with conviction in 
their eyes.  Mo suspected much of that conviction was powered by the 
desire to see him disintegrated.
	When the curtain had finally reached the floor, there was a 
strange feeling in the air, as if they were protected by the fabric.  
An occasional shimmer jumped through the dark red folds of the barrier, 
betraying its nature to be much more unique than he had originally 
thought. 
	Dave shifted uncomfortably in his shoes as he felt the magic 
cause a dimensional shift to prevent escape or outside interference.  
"I sure wish they'd warn me before they do that," he whispered to 
Timmy.  "Gives me a headache."
	"Let the accused be readied for judgement," Sanis said after a 
long pause.  He seemed far less enthusiastic about these words than 
when ordering the curtain.  
	Another crystal was tapped, and the cage around Mo slowly 
dissolved and faded away.  A strange, glowing green circle surrounded 
him on the massive stone slab under him, however, and he felt the hairs 
on the back of his neck stand up as the glow intensified.  
	As it reached its full strength, he realized that it was the same 
colour as the main weapons the Negaverse Armada had been using against 
them.  The quantum-thingies that seemed to hurt a lot.  
	"As the accused is not used to our laws," Sanis said, "I will 
advise him that any movement outside his circle will cause his instant 
death, regardless of the form used to travel.  Is this clear?"
	Maury nodded weakly, now very glad he had taken Dave's cup of 
water.  If he were to doze off or pass out, he could have very easily 
fallen outside of the circle.  Dave shook his head as Mo raised his 
hand to test how close he could get to it.  
	"The Accused is Maury Sol, heir to the Sol Star Platform and all 
his system's orbiting bodies," Sanis said.  "His defence will be 
carried out by David Reinquest of the Third Solar Planet: Earth.  Maury 
Sol's offence will be conducted by Civil Vizier Waddin-"
	A great cheer erupted from the crowd as Waddin's name was 
mentioned.  Waddin gave the Emperor a small grin, and Sanis responded 
by motioning to the table of old men and women.  One of them touched a 
large, purple oval crystal, and the room was filled with a sudden, 
piercing screech that instantly silenced the crowd.  
	"You are now all bound by this circle of Justice," the young 
emperor said angrily.  "Further disrespect to these proceedings will be 
met with my Honour Guard."
	Maury was slightly surprised by the tone of the young man's 
voice.  It no longer seemed so surprising to him that Sanis ruled and 
was feared.  
	"Vizier Waddin," Sanis said.  "You may proceed with the 
accusations."
	Waddin walked forward until he was halfway between the Emperor 
and Maury.  With a great flourish of his long, regal robes, he pulled 
out a small scroll that looked as old as the rest of the building and 
materials of the court.  
	"Maury Sol is hereby accused of class seven mass murder of 
military personnel and class nine destruction of Empyreal property," he 
said loudly.  "Furthermore, he is retroactively charged with a class 
three invasion attempt, and class three murder of civilians."
	Dave shook his head quickly as he saw Maury open his mouth to 
tell the man to go fuck himself.  Reluctantly, he crossed his arms in 
front of his chest and focused on a random cute girl in the bleachers 
to keep his mind off of the charges being read.  
	Sanis was reading the charges on his own parchment.  "You list 
four charges here, but I see there are five to present.  Please 
explain."
	Waddin bowed his head, rolled the parchment slightly, and cleared 
his voice.  "The final, and most serious, charge is Grand Treason and 
class ten conspiracy against the Negaverse Empire."
	The crowd erupted in shock and Sanis dropped his parchment in 
surprise.  "Vizier Waddin," Sanis said, trying to hide the surprise in 
his voice with more anger.  "Nobody in the entirety of the New Age has 
been charged with a Class Ten Violation.  Grand Treason is even more 
outrageous!  I will not allow you to use this court for your media 
antics!"
	"Oh, shit," Dave sighed as he re-read the notes he had made on 
his PDA. 
	"I hereby name Emperor Sanis," Waddin continued loudly over the 
growing chattering among the crowd, "an accessory to the charges of 
Grand Treason and class ten conspiracy against the Negaverse Empire."
	The room erupted in shouting.  Sanis stood there, shocked as a 
disturbingly large majority of the crowd began cheering.  Eventually, 
even those who opposed the charges were hushed by the sheer volume of 
shouting.  
	"What's going on?" Timmy asked Dave, who looked as if he had 
suddenly lost his desire to stand up.  
	Dave swallowed back the anger in his throat and walked over to 
Sanis.  "Emperor, you should declare your defence quickly before 
someone starts asking for your head."
	Sanis nodded, and motioned to silence the court with another 
screech from the orange crystal.  It took longer for the room to 
silence itself, but the young Emperor was no longer having to fake 
anger in his voice.  
	"Very well," he said.  "I will humour your insanity in respect to 
justice.  David Reinquest of the Third Planet will also be my defence."
	The room was hushed as Sanis handed his crown to Dave, then 
walked purposely towards Maury, ignoring Waddin outright.  The green 
glow flickered off, and he stepped up onto the platform with Maury.  
	"Long time no see," Mo quipped as the glow returned around them.  
	"Is Mister Reinquest capable?" Sanis asked quietly.  
	Dave cleared his throat and looked up from his PDA.  "Who, may I 
ask, will be leading the court now that the Emperor is indisposed?"
	Mo nodded.  "I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust him."
	Waddin smiled to Dave politely, "in event that the Emperor cannot 
rule over a Grand Treason charge, the duty falls to the senior military 
official."
	"This is foolish," Dave's eyes narrowed.  "Objection!"
	"Objection denied," Dolesbur announced, stepping out from behind 
the throne. "I, Supreme Commander of the Negaverse Armada and Military 
Vizier to the Empire, command that this session of justice continue," 
the general said with great gusto in his voice.  Another murmur rose 
around the crowd as Dolesbur carefully folded his robes and sat down on 
the throne.  "This trial will not end until justice is done."   
	Maury looked down at Sanis and shrugged.  "Don't worry.  Dave 
watches 'Law & Order' all the time.  I think he has the first three 
seasons taped."
	Sanis looked very pale.











Chapter 27











	"Hello?" Thomas called out, stepping through the police tape.  
"Anyone there?"
	Someone within the store swore, then stood from behind the 
counter.  "Yeah, yeah.  Come in.  Watch yourself for the glass," Amon 
said, removing the spells guarding his door with a quick mutter under 
his breath.  
	Thomas stepped past the shards of broken door-frame, looking 
around at the mess.  Amon came out from behind the counter with a huge 
trash-bag with jagged shapes poking out of it.  After tossing it to the 
side, he threw Thomas a broom and picked up one as well.  "Mind lending 
a hand?"
	"Uhm," Thomas frowned, looking at the broom.  "Sure, I guess."
	"Cool.  Here, just get everything into the corner."
	Thomas sighed and started working from the door over to the wall, 
sweeping various sized shards of glass as he went.  
	"This isn't why I asked you to come," Amon said finally as they 
cleared a walkway through the mangled doorframe.
	"Care to get to the point?" Thomas asked. "What do you know about 
Harvey?"
	"Well, fiddle-tee-dee, mister Thomas," Amon said, mockingly.  "I 
am but a humble shop-keep.  Certainly I would have no interest in this 
nary-do-well other than to see him brought to justice."
	Thomas glared at him, then turned around.  "Fine.  I'm leaving."
	"Why?" Amon chuckled.  "Busy chasing down all those leads you 
have, huh?  Tell me, how's that working for ya?"
	"Then tell me why are you so interested in this guy suddenly?"
	Amon's grin faded.  "It's simple, really.  You see, I'm a guy who 
makes deals.  When those deals get broken, I tend to want to break 
someone right back."
	"So he was at your store before," Thomas glared at the demon.  
"Why didn't you tell me?"
	"You knew," Amon chuckled.  "You humans need to start trusting 
your instincts.  They're a powerful thing," he raised an eyebrow, "oh, 
don't give me that look."
	"I should arrest you," Thomas said angrily.
	"But you won't," Amon grinned back.  "You won't, because you know 
I can help you."
	"Why would you suddenly help me after lying through your teeth?"
	"You aren't listening, are you," Amon frowned.  "If this is any 
indication of your attention span, I can see why a crippled old man 
close to death has successfully evaded you for weeks.  I told you, I 
want to break him."
	"So why are you getting me involved with this?" 
	Amon grabbed the broom from him and started sweeping all the 
glass towards a garbage can.  "I'm new to the area.  Don't want to 
start making too many enemies just yet.  Especially when people like 
you would just as likely throw me in a cage as look at me.  Been there, 
done that, got the fuck out of that.  I won't go back."
	"Then don't break the law," Thomas shrugged.  
	Amon raised an eyebrow over his dark sunglasses.  "I'm not 
talking about your puny little bars and cement.  Do you know how much a 
vial of pure, second-plane demon blood is worth back on Eden?  Trust 
me.  There are cages for people like us, and I'm certain they won't 
stay exclusively in Eden for long."
	Thomas felt the air turn cold around him.  "You're..." he paused, 
seeing Amon's sudden sharp grin and the mist steaming up from behind 
his glasses.
	"I'll give you a hint," Amon said, obviously enjoying Thomas' 
reaction.  "I ain't got no fluffy wings."
	Thomas felt himself reaching for his sword, and Amon's brow 
narrowed.  
	"This is my house, Missionary," he said darkly.  "One of your 
kind made the mistake of attacking me here today.  He left through that 
hole in the wall."
	"You're unarmed," Thomas said, voice just as dark.
	"Yeah," Amon grinned.  "But I also don't have internal organs.  
You so sure you could kill me with one hit?  I'm pretty sure I could do 
it to you.  You humans have those nice, big, squishy parts inside.  I 
can rip out your lung, or we can keep talking like gentlemen."
	Thomas let out a long breath.  "Fine," he said, letting his hands 
drop from his sword.
	"Good," Amon nodded, continuing to sweep.  "So, now that you know 
who I am, and I know who you are, we can make a deal."
	"Like hell.  I'm not making any deals with the-"
	"Demon," Amon interrupted.  "Not devil.  And certainly not that 
waste of pansy-assed-ness, Lucifer.  Your soul means nothing to me 
here!  If you had any idea what it takes to actually transport a soul 
across the barriers, you'd be laughing your eyes out.  Few souls are 
worth the trouble, and you are certainly not one of them."
	Thomas shook his head.  "That doesn't exactly comfort me."
	"It should," Amon said.  "I have information you need.  Where 
Harvey is going and how he's getting there.  Why he's so resistant to 
those fancy steak-knives of yours and your buddies."
	"And what do I have?" Thomas frowned.
	Amon looked at him with a solid, critical eye.  "You have a 
destiny."
	"Pardon?"
	"Fated.  Touched," Amon smiled, showing again his pointed teeth.  
"Special.  These are things that Demons like me can't experience 
normally, and unlike Harvey, I think you won't just throw it all away."
	"And what is that worth?" Thomas frowned.  "I'm not going to give 
you any special treatment or do anything illegal for you."
	"Of course you won't," Amon said.  He snapped his fingers, and 
suddenly, the pile of glass at his feet was enveloped with ice.  He 
picked up the solid chunk and tossed it into the bin.  A moment later, 
a massive flurry of snow leapt up and into his hand, leaving the glass 
below.  "And before you add it to the list of reasons not to deal with 
me, I'm not looking for government secrets either.  Even if I was, I 
wouldn't be so foolish as to go through you."
	Thomas thought back to what Miharu had said that morning, about 
having to fire someone.
	"The politics of this world are an interesting side-note at best.  
What I'm after is original.  Unique." Amon turned back to Thomas.  "I'm 
the guy to come to when you can't just pick it up on eBay or Wal-Mart.  
I didn't get that reputation by bribing cops or by passing around spare 
change.  That's what lesser assholes do when they don't have any other 
skill."
	"So, what is it that you want from me?" Tom sighed.  "You have 
quite the sales pitch, but how much does it cost?"
	"That's the best part," Amon grinned.  "Nothing but a bit of your 
time here and there.  You come on by.  We chat.  That's all.  If you 
see something I might be interested in, you let me know.  If I see 
something you're interested in, I let you know.  Having trouble with a 
case?  I'm the guy on the street you come to first.  That's the deal."
	Thomas frowned.  "Why?"
	"Because by helping you, I can look around without sticking my 
neck out," Amon said.  "That's all.  You ask about a mob boss two days 
in a row, and I know he's becoming a problem and make sure I don't 
accidentally do any business with him."
	"So you don't lose anything when we arrest him," Thomas smirked.
	"Now you're getting it," Amon said.  "Just little things.  Legit 
things.  I don't want you to get in any trouble, because then that 
means I just spent the last twenty minutes yapping for nothing.  It's 
your job to go out there and fight the forces of evil, or stupid, or 
stupid-evil.  Those forces usually fight back, and I'm not spending my 
end of days dicking around with that bullshit if it's just going to get 
me into a fire-fight or locked away in those beautiful prisons of 
yours.  I start advertising my powers, and I'll have every yahoo hick 
from Eden wanting to crusade against my ass.  I'll help you so I don't 
have to get into trouble.  You'll get into it for me."
	"Gee, thanks," Thomas said dryly.  
	"Lighten up," Amon said.  "You'll get into a shitstorm 
clusterfuck now and again with or without my help.  You know this.  
Hell, it's basically your job description.  You handle stuff the cops 
can't.  You're in places that the army can't go.  You're EXACTLY where 
I want to be, and I'm better at it than you are.  But you'll live 
longer if I'm on your side telling you when to duck and where the bad-
guys drop their pants when they think nobody is watching."
	Thomas looked at Amon carefully, studying him for some hint of 
deception.  
	"I help you out, I learn what's going on and you get three 
thousand years of underhanded, underground experience and a free ear on 
the street.  Shit, I should be charging you extra for such a service," 
Amon chuckled.  "It's a deal.  It's a steal.  It's the sale of the 
fucking century.  You should be honoured, Thomas.  It's a one time 
only, offer of a lifetime, just because you were in the right place at 
the right time!  That's destiny in action."
	"One question," Thomas said quietly.  "Why me?  Why not the 
others?"
	"The others never bothered to drop by," Amon shrugged.  "I figure 
since you found the matches, that means either they trusted you to 
handle the lead," he paused, lips parting into another pointed smile, 
"or you never told them.  Maybe figured something was up.  See?  
Trusting those instincts.  It's a good idea."
	Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his shoes.  "Ahh.  Yeah, I'll 
keep that in mind."
	"Too many fated or interesting people draw attention," Amon 
warned.  "I won't deal with you if they're included.  I don't care if 
you share my advice or keep it to yourself, but the moment I'm named is 
the moment we stop doing business.  Clear?"
	Thomas said nothing.
	Amon extended his hand to shake.  "In spite of what lies they 
must force-feed you in Sunday School, I'm just here to make a buck and 
kick up my heels once in a while.  Ain't no signing in blood or souls 
involved.  I also don't lie to prospective business partners unless I 
find they lied to me first.  Now, do we have a deal?"
	Slowly, Thomas raised his hand to meet Amon's.  "Sure.  We have a 
deal."
	Amon grinned.  "Good."
	Thomas looked down at his hand.  "So, is that it?"
	"That's it," Amon nodded.  "We can go for drinks later.  Seal the 
deal if you want, but I suppose you'll be wanting to get back to Red 
Deer right away."
	"Why would-" Thomas stopped himself.  
	"Instinct," Amon said.  "Good man.  Yeah, Harvey's on his way to 
meet your young life-mage buddy.  Turns out your janitorial staff are 
easy to bribe.  He's on stimulants, so you'll have to disable him.  
He'll keep fighting otherwise."
	"Ian," Thomas gasped, then bolted for the door.  
	Amon watched the man leave with a toothy smile still on his face.  
"Definitely a Frank Miller fan."











	Ian rubbed his shoulder painfully as he walked back from the 
target range.  The range was definitely his least favourite part of the 
Missionaries training.  He could handle the small-calibre rifles just 
fine, but the larger rounds knocked the gun back into his shoulder no 
matter how he positioned himself.  
	His accuracy had been good at first, but as fatigue set in, he 
had accidentally hit a metal rail at the end of the range and caused 
the bullet to ricochet.  After everyone stood up from ducking, he was 
ordered to go home early to put some ice on his arm.  
	The others offered to join him, but he just wanted some time to 
relax, so they stayed behind for rocket practice much to Jimmy's 
delight.  
	He trooped through the halls, carrying his work-out bag on his 
good shoulder.  The halls were a lot busier lately.  A group of police 
officers from Washington had just come through on a tour, and Ian saw 
more and more young kids with papers in their hands wandering the 
halls, asking where administration was.  He was very glad he wasn't the 
youngest mage here.
	A long underground walkway brought him up to the dorms, and he 
continued past all the double-bedroom apartments to the larger quarters 
where he and his sisters lived.
	He was so focused on the mental image of a hot shower to soothe 
his shoulder that he didn't notice the strange way the lock opened, as 
if something inside the mechanism had given way.  He threw his bag down 
at the coat rack and kicked off his shoes.  "Miss Alas?" he called out 
for his sister's nanny.  Normally at this time of the day, she was 
knitting and Tasha was watching television nearby.  
	"Tasha?" Ian asked out loud, voice quieting.  He tiptoed towards 
his youngest sister's room.  "Are you sleeping?"
	He looked inside and saw nobody there.  Stuffed animals were 
arranged on her un-mussed bed, and several toys were missing from her 
tiny desk.  Ian smiled and walked towards the living room.  "Tasha?  
Are you playing hide and seek?"
	Ian saw Miss Alas sitting in her favourite chair in the living 
room and relaxed slight.  "Miss Alas, good afternoon," he said, walking 
over to her.  
	When she didn't move, though, he paused in mid step.  A slight 
odour wafted by him, forcing him to turn his nose away.  "Oh no," he 
whispered, reaching over the woman's shoulder and checking for a pulse 
at her neck.  
	She was still warm, but the lack of a heartbeat confirmed Ian's 
suspicions.  As he pressed into her neck, there was a strange crunching 
sound and her head fell forward with unnatural ease.  Ian gasped and 
pulled his hand away, seeing the vertebrae of her spine loose and 
twisted under her skin.  
	"Harvey," Ian whispered, reaching for his sword and spinning 
around.  
	He nearly jumped again when he heard a giggle in his bedroom.  
Ian rushed over and saw the door was opened halfway.  Tasha was sitting 
patiently on the bed as Harvey combed her hair.  Her eyes brightened 
considerably when she saw Ian standing in shock at the door.  
	"Brother!" she laughed.  "Uncle Harvey is giving me a make-over.  
He's funny!"
	Harvey smiled through his cracked lips at Ian, whose sword 
lowered to the floor.  "Hi, Ian.  Cute baby sister you've got here," he 
said, resting his decaying hand on the girl's shoulder.  "Sorry about 
your nanny.  She just didn't want to play with us.  We let her take a 
nap."
	Ian was seething.  "You son of a-"
	"That sword really doesn't suit you.  How about you put it away 
in the other room for now?" Harvey offered, wincing slightly.  
	"OWW!" Tasha gasped, then reached up and rubbed her head.  Ian 
turned white and took a step back.  "That hurt!"
	"Sorry, Tasha," Harvey smiled.  "I accidentally pulled out a 
hair.  I'll be more careful.  You should tell your brother to join us."
	Tasha's smile returned.  "I can do his makeup!"
	Ian nodded slowly, unhooking his sword from his belt.  Then, he 
tossed it into the laundry room next door.  "What do you want, Harvey?"
	"Just a bit of your time," the old mage said, hands coming up 
around Tasha's neck.  "I hear you're quite the healer."
	"I don't like threats," Ian said angrily, taking a step closer.  
"You won't get anything from me."
	"Really?" Harvey frowned.  "I don't like heroics.  I also hear 
that the human brain can only survive a few minutes without oxygen."
	Tasha gasped suddenly and her hands came up to her throat as if 
she was choking.  Ian took a step forward, but Harvey stood and pulled 
the little girl up in his arms.
	"STOP!" Harvey growled.  "You take one more step towards me and 
I'll unravel her brainstem.  It's difficult, but I figure I may as well 
go out with a bang.  Do the hardest trick, so to speak.  All I need is 
a second, and your little sister is a vegetable for the rest of her 
life!"
	"Let her go!" Ian shouted as he saw his little sister start to 
turn blue in the face.  
	"Heal me.  Now.  All of it," Harvey said.  "Then, you can heal 
her."
	Ian froze as Tasha made a little squeak and her eyes fluttered 
back into her head.  
	"Tick-tock, Ian.  You're running out of time," Harvey said.  
"Unless you think you can bring her back from the dead."











Chapter 28











	The rain was finally letting up around midnight.  Battra stood at 
the edge of the tent, looking out over the ragged city before him.  
Three Archangels and nearly one thousand tents were absent.  Decided 
that they would try a path closer to the ocean.  One of the angels had 
some family there.  Figured they'd receive some sympathy and an easy 
way through the Dominion Crags.
	"They never learn," he whispered to the wind.
	It had been a hard couple of days.  Dominions were normally not 
so brave as to attack a group their size, but it was equal parts mating 
season and the first summer after a long drought.  They were hungry and 
horny, and wanting to show off to their new sugar-mommas.
	"Oh, Heaven," Battra sighed, rubbing his hands through his 
scarred, wrinkled head's white fuzz.  "I'm starting to think like them.  
Sugar-momma.  What in Joel's name does that mean?"
	The old mage walked back into the tent, shrugging out of his long 
traveling robes and hanging them up on the side of his bed.  Long, 
winding burn-marks adorned his arms and his hands, and he scratched at 
the marks absentmindedly as he walked towards the bed.  With the rain 
letting up, the attacks would only be more frequent in the morning.  It 
was best to get a good night's sleep.
	He sat down on the side of the bed, then reached up into the air 
and drew a Theban glyph in the air with his finger, leaving a gentle 
orange glow as it sped towards the entrance of the tent to close the 
opening.  The flap rustled slightly, but stayed open.  
	"Mmm," Battra frowned.  He drew another glyph and watched it more 
carefully as it sped towards the open tent flap.
	The string tie came undone, but despite gravity's insistence, the 
leather portal cover did not fall down to block out the cold, wet 
night.  Sighing, Battra stood back up and walked wearily over to the 
flap.   
	He tried tugging on the flap once and heard a squeak.  Battra 
froze as he felt the cold metal edge touching his throat.  "That's a 
very quick sword," he said nonchalantly.
	"Isn't it?" Christopher said as Beavis hovered down from the tent 
flap, lowering it down and blocking the three of them from view.  "I 
won't waste your time.  I know you changed the gate script.  Where are 
they?"
	"What the hell are you talking about?" Battra growled.
	Fiss reached around with his other hand and displayed Beavis' 
pictures of the spell on the screen of his PDA.
	"Oh, that," the old mage said, clearing his throat.
	"I don't recognize this," Fiss frowned, slipping his PDA back 
into his pocket.  "I can recognize anything Theban.  What the hell did 
you draw?"
	Battra smirked.  "You were the one that told me 'not everything 
is Theban'.  You inspired me, in a way."
	"How nice," Fiss said, pulling his sword closer to the mage's 
skin.  "Care to explain?"
	"I could vaporize you where you stand," Battra said with a small 
chuckle.  "And you think this little-"
	"You're not exactly compelling me to keep you alive at the 
moment," Fiss said.  "I was nice enough to not waste your time.  How 
about you do the same?"
	Battra sighed.  "It was to block demons.  A little bit of devil 
script I picked up on my travels."
	"Devils can't write angelic script," Fiss frowned. 
	"No, but devil hunters use it all the time.  Some have made their 
own alphabets in order to keep on top of the more devious ones," Battra 
said.  "You said Eden's Will was right behind us.  They're using 
abominations of cherubs, I figured I'd try some script just in case 
they tried coming through."
	Fiss looked at Beavis, who didn't at all look convinced.  
	"If the script was harmful in any way, how is it that you and 
your delightful little pet were able to move through freely?" Battra 
asked.  
	Beavis blinked, then looked very guilty.  
	With a long, grumbling sigh, Fiss withdrew his sword from the 
mage's neck.  "Sorry."
	Battra turned around, arms crossed.  "I take it the news from the 
coast was not good?"
	"Dead," Fiss said quietly.  "The three Archangels were drawn up 
on pikes.  Ash for the rest."
	"Ahh," Battra said with a nod.  Then he reached up and slapped 
Chris' face.  
	Chris stumbled back in surprise.  "What-"
	"Don't you EVER question my loyalty again," Battra roared at him.  
"They are MY people.  They are weak.  They are pathetic.  But they used 
to be the most feared and respected force under Heaven!  Have you ANY 
idea what it is like to watch that happen?  I've been tempted just to 
end them all.  Don't for one tiny moment think I couldn't, and I 
wouldn't need some farce of a civilian government as my ally to do it!"
	"We've just lost another thousand souls," Fiss said, voice 
returning, "and you're dicking around with demon magic.  How the hell 
am I supposed to react to that?"
	"So you attack me because four are missing?" Battra said.  "Your 
tiered system of loyalty is most impressive."
	"I'm sure they appreciate your kind words," Fiss countered.  
"What did you say?  Weak?  Pathetic?"
	"If your perception isn't as keen as mine," Battra said, "then 
that is YOUR shortcoming."
	"Unlike you," Chris raised his hand,  "I appreciate..." his 
sentence trailed off.
	Battra frowned.  "What?"
	"You're not working for Eden's Will," Chris said drawing his 
sword.  "Where is she?"
	"What are you playing at, little angel?" Battra said angrily.  
	Beavis cleared his throat.  "Uhm, Fiss...I thought we were at the 
'feeling bad for accusing him' phase of the argument?"
	"You said four," Chris frowned.  "I was only ever mentioned 
three.  How did you know Tambre was with them?"
	Battra's eyes flickered realization.  A slow, narrow grin grew on 
his lips.  
	"So, do they have a name?" Chris said quietly.  "This bitch that 
crossbreeds cherubs?  Some kind of fancy, flashy biblical title?  Or is 
Bitch pretty much the right thing to be calling her?"
	Beavis gasped out in surprise as Battra's arm shot up and grabbed 
him out of the air.  Fiss' sword came up and sunk an inch into Battra's 
stomach, but stopped when Beavis squeaked in pain.  A bright orange 
light was now covering him.  
	"Think very hard, Knight," Battra said, in pain but smiling.  
"Tambre was already lost.  I was simply returning their property as a 
favour owed.  Your friends are missing on their own volition.  Nothing 
I drew in the spell targeted them.  Marish is just an old friend of 
mine.  This means nothing to you or the House."
	"You fucking cooker-plug," Fiss growled.
	"I wasn't lying," Battra said.  "I'm loyal to you and the House.  
Also, you're down three more of your preciously blind archangels to 
fight with you, and more and more of the house is becoming sick and 
tired.  Are you so sure you can fend off the tide of dragons coming to 
eat the strays?"
	"Tell me where she is," Fiss demanded.  
	Battra's eyes lit up.  "Well now.  I know I have five lives that 
you care about.  Even if this little rodent can resist my magic - 
something I doubt any of us are perfectly certain of - you still need 
me to disclose what my spell did and where they are."
	"Drop Beavis," Fiss said.
	"Only if you remove that sword of yours," Battra smiled sweetly.  
	Fiss pulled back his sword and Battra let Beavis float free, 
ruffling angrily.  
	"We have another dilemma," Battra said, reaching down to hold the 
cut in his stomach.  "If you go gallivanting off to find the strays, I 
am likewise uncertain I can protect all these people by myself."
	"What exactly are you saying?" Fiss asked, picking Beavis out of 
the air and petting him carefully as he straightened out his quills. 
	"We're only a week or so off," Battra said.  "With one more jump, 
maybe under a week.  So long as your friends aren't already dead, and 
smart enough not to get themselves killed, I doubt Marish would waste 
her time with them.  With my blessings, once we're with SkitZ, I'll 
bring you right to her hide-out and even cast the first spells against 
her gates."
	"Unacceptable," Chris said. 
	"Fiss," Beavis interrupted with a long sigh.  "Stop it.  He's 
right.  We can't leave the entire House out in the open."
	Battra grinned.  "Finally, I hear more wisdom from you two.  You 
may just impress me yet."
	"What about Tambre?" Fiss asked, lowering his sword.
	"I gave her something to slow the pregnancy," Battra shrugged.  
"So long as Marish hasn't accelerated the process, you still have a 
month before she's ripped apart and ground up for cherub-supper."
	The sword in Chris' hand creaked as his grip tightened.  
	"It's late," Battra said, walking past him as he cast a healing 
spell on his stomach.  "We'll get to SkitZ, then we can continue on 
with your foolish crusade to save every little bitch who's ever tossed 
you a smile.  We should head out early."
	Fiss sheathed his sword.  "We'll have words about this.  One day.  
Very soon."
	"I'll look forward to it," Battra smiled.  "I recommend you 
choose your words very carefully.  I already know exactly which I'd use 
against you."
	Chris stormed out of the tent, leaving the flap to finally close 
on its own. 











	"I'm glad you're here to document my efforts," Devon said happily 
to the camera.  "We have script creatures for such a thing, but they 
tend to be so inaccurate.  Oftentimes, you'll simply get a fantasy 
vision of what they've seen.  Very embarrassing."
	Jean said nothing as he looked down at the camera in front of 
him.  
	"Ahh, concentration," Devon laughed.  "Yes, a professional at 
work.  And look at me!  Becoming so distracted by the presence of such 
a little thing!" 
	He ended his revelry with a long, happy sigh, then pulled his 
arms around quickly.  A wire-thin green whip lashed out and Jesminder 
cried out as a wide, red cut appeared on her arm.  It was one of twenty 
that changed the smooth texture of her skin into a bumpy, jagged field.  
	"Only one more," Devon sighed.  "My, how time flies."  
	The whip lashed out and wrapped around her leg.  Jess bit her lip 
as she realized it was caught on her calf.  "You...fucking...ba-"
	Her words were cut off as a splash of blood was wrenched out of 
her.  Jean flinched as something solid hit his shoulder and landed next 
to him with a tiny flop.  
	"Amazing plant," Devon sighed happily, walking back over to the 
hook so he could hang the whip.  "My Mistress asked me to quiz you 
about your missing friend, but I assume he just perished in the fall.  
I doubt you'd be able to provide anything useful, and I'd just have to 
add more lashes to your treatment." 
	"Nathan is goinna get help," Jesminder said weakly. "They're 
goinna come and kill you."
	"It certainly is possible," Devon laughed.  "Of course, anything 
is possible here.  Please, rest.  I'll focus on your legs tomorrow so 
you don't leave us for the next world.  Who knows, you may even last 
another day or two.  A shame, since the reed still isn't fully ready 
yet."
	Devon left, instructing the guards to stand watch as he sealed 
the doors to the chamber.
	Jean jumped out from behind the camera, pulling out gauze from 
his bag.  "That fucking bastard."
	Jesminder cried out as he wrapped her arms and leg, but endured 
it the best she could.
	"I've been looking everywhere for the keys," Jean said, 
apologetically.  "Transmission power is fading.  The batteries are 
dying.  I'm not certain how long we can keep this up."
	"I know what you mean," Jess laughed weakly. 
	"Sorry," Jean sighed, sitting down next to her as he prepared a 
small tube of Polysporin from his first aid kit.  
	"I don't think that's going to last much longer," Jess whispered 
as he tried to squeeze what little ointment remained from the tube.
	Jean nodded.  "Hang in there.  They're still believing the hour-
long thing with the camera.  I think I can use the battery acid on the 
chains and we'll make a try for the door like Nathan did."
	"I can barely move, Jean," she whispered.  "If you see a-"
	"No.  Don't you ever say that," Jean interrupted.  "You're coming 
with me." His face softened.  "The boss would kick my ass if I don't 
bring his star reporter back."
	There was a strange scratching at the door, and a sudden lack of 
humming.  Jean froze, realizing he couldn't remove the gauze in time to 
hide his administrations.  He felt strangely relieved when the door 
opened to reveal an Aszap instead of Devon or Marish.  
	Its masked face peered into the room, stretching out its long, 
vein-covered neck.  It locked onto Jean, and he froze in terror as he 
felt the warmth from the light even across the cold, empty space 
between them.  
	"Jean," Jesminder whispered.  "Get out of here."
	The cherub walked into the room with a slow, oddly graceful step 
and turned to Jess.  Its long claws began clicking together and a 
strange howl began to fill the air.  
	Jean stood and began reaching for the whip hanging between them.  
As his arm got closer, the Cherub refocused its attention on the 
cameraman and its claws stopped clacking.  Instead, they raised and 
spread, ready to attack.  
	"Jean!" she shouted, startling him.  "You idiot!  Get away from 
that!"
	"The door is open," Jean said, hand frozen as he tried to 
determine if he could get to the razor weed before the cherub pounced 
on him.  "I don't see any others outside.  It's just the one."
	"Just the one?!" Jess shouted.  "Jean, get the hell away from 
that!  It will rip you apart!"
	"I can do it," Jean told himself.  "Just need to get its jugular 
or something."
	"It might not even HAVE veins," Jess said, tears falling from her 
cheeks.  "Don't you dare do it, Jean.  I'll never forgive you if you-"
	"What the HELL is going on in here?"
	Jess, Jean and even the Cherub turned to the door in surprise.  
Marish was standing there, appraising the situation.  To the further 
surprise of Jess and Jean, she then stormed over to the Cherub and 
smacked it across the mask, causing it to fall off and shatter on the 
ground.  The cherub's tiny, wrinkled face looked embarrassed, as if it 
had just been caught with its wings in the cookie jar.  
	"No!" Marish shouted at it.  "Not this one.  Go back to the 
hall!"
	The beast hung its head in shame, then turned around and trotted 
out of the door.  Marish ignored Jess and Jean completely, stormed out 
and slammed the door shut after herself.  The magical hum returned a 
moment later.  
	Jean took a few steps away from the razor weed and sat back down 
next to Jess, complete confusion still on his face.  Jess leaned 
against him, wincing as the cuts on her arm rubbed with the gauze.
	"Do me a favour," Jess whispered.  "If that thing comes back.  
And you're not around-"
	"Stop," Jean sighed.  "I will.  Just don't say it."
	"Thanks," she smiled weakly, falling asleep on his shoulder a 
moment later.  










Chapter 29











	"In the same breath, you say your murder was a glorious act, but 
Prince Sol's act of defending his people is barbaric!" Dave said 
angrily.  "You can't call a retaliatory strike against an invading 
force mass murder!"
	"Our campaign was authorized by the Emperor Himself," Waddin 
said.  "You cannot compare the survival of billions with the defence of 
a single, stubborn star station."
	"So it's only murder when you start losing?" Dave smirked.  "When 
you're winning, you call it a glorious campaign for the empire."
	An angry murmur rustled the crowd.
	"Silence," Dolesbur growled from the throne.  "Further insults 
will not be tolerated."
	Dave brushed his hands over his coat front.  "My apologies, 
Vizier.  Perhaps if you were to listen and understand what I was 
saying, my words would be less construed as insults, and more as the 
help I intend," he smiled.  "Tell me, how is your carrier doing?  The 
Malachite, right?  Still orbiting Sol as thirty tonnes of queer quarks?  
Or did your repair guys finally manage to-"
	"Cocky little-" Dolesbur roared, reaching for something at his 
side.  "I'll kill you!"
	"Stop," Waddin said.  "Vizier, please, restrain yourself."
	"Damn," Maury smiled.  "I wish we had popcorn."
	Sanis looked very worried, but he no longer looked so pale at the 
thought of imminent vaporization.  "Dave's good," he admitted.  "But 
I'm more concerned about the charge of murder against civilians," he 
whispered. 
	"Me too," Maury sighed.  "I'm not sure how he'll manage that."
	"Your laws clearly state," Dave said to the court, "that until a 
race or planet is conquered, they are not subject to the caste rulings 
in Negaverse law.  Murder was committed on both sides as an act of war.  
I therefore move to have the charge dropped as irrelevant to the 
individual charged, as he is not subject to peasant or indentured 
modifiers."
	Dolesbur turned to the old crones who were crosschecking the laws 
as Dave mentioned them.  After a moment, they nodded.  The old general 
sat back down on the throne.  "Fine.  Charge dismissed."
	"And the related charge of destruction of property," Dave 
announced.  "Critical damage was also caused to the Sol platform as 
well as their defensive fleet of independent starcraft."
	"FINE!" Dolesbur shouted, then turned to Waddin.  "The court will 
hear no more about the first two charges.  Please continue on to the 
other three."
	Dave cleared his throat as the crowd erupted in a strange mix of 
anger and amusement.  "Thank you, Vizier."
	"Next charge," Dolesbur pressed angrily.
	Dave reached into his coat and pulled out a cup of water as the 
law-caretakers opened their massive tomes to the next bookmarked page.  
A few people murmured as he then pulled out a small plate with cake on 
it and handed it to a surprised Timmy.  Even more so when he pulled out 
a small end-table for him to dine on.
	Waddin cleared his throat.  "The accused-" 
	"Objection," Dave said, standing back up from the makeshift 
dining set.  
	"But we haven't read the charges-"
	"Yes you have," Dave continued, raising his hand.  "Earlier in 
the trial, all charges were clearly laid against the defendant.  Two of 
the five have been dismissed.  Two more charges are dependent on 
clarification of the statute of limitations."
	"The what?" Waddin asked.  
	"Forgive me," Dave smiled, pulling out his PDA once more.  "In 
Earth law, several countries have a common theme of a time-limit for 
prosecution.  This prevents a long-standing grudge from being carried 
out for convenience or revenge instead of justice."
	"An amusing concept," Waddin shrugged.  "Unfortunately, the 
accused are not subject to your 'Earth' laws at the moment."
	"Understood," Dave bowed his head.  "But this is a unique 
situation in which I am offering insight.  May I ask how many races you 
have encountered that have an average lifespan of over one thousand 
years?"
	After brief deliberation, the caretakers shook their heads, 
indicating the negative.

	Dave took a deep breath.  Driven by some unconscious knowledge of 
what was to come, both Waddin and Dolesbur felt their eyes twitch in 
anger.
  
	"Thus, I assume that nobody has been tried for crimes reaching 
back past over one thousand years?  This makes Prince Sol's trial on 
the edge of legal precedent," Dave continued without skipping a beat.  
"Furthermore, during my readings of Negaverse law," he said, glancing 
towards his PDA once more, "I noted several instances in which law, 
cultural standards and judgement were changed after the rule and fall 
of the Jadeite Regime.  One of these changes clearly redefines the 
definition of an invasion force to consist of NO LESS than three 
legions of troops.  One legion for defence, one for offence and one for 
establishing a base and to recover casualties.  This, of course, means 
at least three hundred and ninety warriors.  Such an instance is cited 
in the Jennbara Public VS the Home World in year Three of the Second 
Emperor of the New Age."
	Maury jumped in surprise as Dave threw his arm towards him in a 
dramatic point. 
	"Mister Sol, would you PLEASE tell these fine ladies and 
gentlemen the number of Sailor Senshi in existence?"
	"Thirteen, including myself," Maury said with a grin.
	Dave spun around dramatically, letting his coat soar about him on 
the momentum.  "I hereby move to have the invasion charges dropped 
against Maury Sol, and this honourable, wise and most fair court to 
consider the implementation of a statute of limitations to block the 
fourth charge as well, as the events that took place happened in the 
same timeframe and have not been relevant to the eyes of the law for 
over one thousand years, making impartial defence and accurate 
prosecution impossible."
	Sanis was in awe as the old caretakers chattered amongst 
themselves excitedly about the possibility of a new law.  Dolesbur and 
Waddin looked at the Omega Webber with renewed respect and hatred.
	"I love loopholes," Maury chuckled to himself.
	"It's not a loophole," Sanis said excitedly.  "It's just that 
we've never done anything like this before in our modern history.  He 
has the crowd intrigued."
	As the crowd erupted into chatter, Dave turned to Waddin and 
wiped an imaginary crumb off of his collar.  The civil Vizier seemed to 
deflate to half his size.  
	One of the caretakers trotted over to Dolesbur, who was gripping 
the throne with such force that the metal and wood was creaking audibly 
under the strain.  
	"I will NOT allow this!" Dolesbur shouted angrily at the old man.  
	The other six caretakers rose up and stormed over to the throne.  
	Dolesbur looked at Dave with such hatred that, should Hate ever 
be found to be a useable power source, could have powered the city of 
New York for five years.  Ten if people turned off their lights at 
night.
	After nearly ten minutes of various levels of shouting, trying 
not to shout, and whispering in a shout-like angry voice, Dolesbur was 
left similarly deflated on his throne and the seven caretakers went 
trotting back to their bench.
	"The third charge is hereby dropped against Maury Sol," Dolesbur 
murmured.  "The forth charge is hereby put into pending status, due to 
law revision as decided by the majority of the Caretakers."
	Dave allowed himself a long bow as most of the room booed at him, 
but Maury and the caretaker bench applauded him.  Dolesbur turned to 
Waddin and shot him a look.  Waddin puffed himself back up and walked 
over to Dave, forcing himself to focus.  
	"I would speak with you in private," Waddin said.  "But we are in 
a sealed room."
	Dave raised an eyebrow.  "Why, Vizier, are you trying to bargain 
with me?"
	
	Waddin nearly soiled himself as he realized Dave Reinquest had 
not opened his mouth to say those words. 

	"Oh, don't be so surprised," Dave said as he continued to bow and 
pretend that nothing was happening.  "Your young Emperor is quite the 
gifted person, but did you honestly believe you were so superior-" Dave 
paused.  "You did.  Ahh, well.  Live and learn, right?"
	Waddin found himself frozen, unable to move.  When he spoke, it 
was only in his mind.  "What do you want?"
	"Prince Sol to go free.  This star system to be free," Dave 
explained as he blew a kiss to someone who was making rude hand 
gestures at him from the crowd.  "If your people so much as aim a 
potato-gun at my people, I will make it my personal mission in life to 
commit eimicide on your people."
	"What does that mean-"
	Dave turned to him and silenced him with a thought.  "It means I 
will erase you from existence.  Every last one of you.  I will NOT have 
my race suffer a backwards little totalitarian rule like yours.  No 
matter how many starships you have in your armada, your behaviour is 
primitive.  War is primitive.  You will not bring it to us when we have 
so much of our own.  Is that, in any way, an unclear threat?"
	
	Waddin stumbled back as Dave caught him and helped him back to 
his feat.  "Are you okay?" Dave asked, a small smirk on his face.  
	The Vizier nodded quickly, then turned to Dolesbur.  Dolesbur 
still wore the look he had from the night before.  What was he willing 
to pay for his republic?  His glorious republic?
	"I'm fine," Waddin said in a tiny voice, freeing himself from 
Dave's hands.
	"The last charge?" Dolesbur grumbled, turning to Dave, who he 
rightfully expected to have a counter to by now.  	
	Dave grinned.  "Yes, your most glorious honour," he said, even as 
the boos and hisses rained down on him.  "I'd like to motion that..."
	"I object," Waddin shouted suddenly, surprising everyone, 
including Dave.  
	Dolesbur blinked, then sat up, as if surprised by the notion that 
he would be able to perform his duty that day.  "Explain."
	"Before we go any further," Waddin said with a nervous smile as 
he saw David Reinquest turn to him, "I would like to flesh out the 
nature of the fifth charge by calling upon a witness."
	It was, at that point, Sanis turned to Maury.  "Oh, no.  Oh 
please, no..."
	Maury frowned as he saw a robed figure rise from the side of the 
bleachers.  "You've got to be kidding."
	"In regards to the final charge of Grand Treason," Waddin said, 
regaining his breath despite Dave's glare at him, "I would like to 
first call upon the testimony of Emperor Sanis' personal guard.  One 
Yen Teakashing." 	
	Wide eyes gazed upon the figure as he revealed himself.  Sapna, 
the other honour guard, looked at her twin brother in shock as he 
stepped out onto the floor.  
	"I swear," Yen said, raising his hands to Waddin, "to tell 
nothing but the truth, until justice is satisfied."
	Dave and Waddin were the only ones still smiling.  
	"Thank you for your time," Waddin said to the guard.  "I'm sure 
this will be enlightening."
	"So do I," Dave said, cracking his knuckles.
	Maury smiled nervously at Sanis, who was still watching with his 
jaw agape.	"I'm going to need a good, stiff drink after this," 
	Sanis turned to Mo.  "I think I may want to join you for that 
drink."











Chapter 30











	Harvey moved quickly through the halls of the CCMA as the alarms 
started to sound.  The stolen janitor outfit he had put on afforded him 
a surprising amount of freedom, and his powers had returned at their 
full strength when it came to locked doors or access panels.  All this, 
coupled with the fact he felt like a new man, manifested in the most 
serene, honest smile on his face.  It felt so good to breathe again 
without worrying about coughing up his lungs.  To walk again instead of 
hobble and hunch.  To think without pain plaguing his thoughts, and 
know that, even when the last bit of the cigar smoke ran out, he would 
still feel like this.  
	Whole.  
	He had thought to kill Ian after the job was done, but using his 
sister as a guarantee was much simpler.  Especially if he needed 
another round of healing down the road.  If he didn't wait so long, he 
could have easily broken through the building's defences on his own.  
Fuck Amon.  Whatever the hell that freak was, he wasn't worth dealing 
with again.  
	A Coat stopped him and asked to see his badge.  It was clear the 
picture wasn't matching up, so Harvey lashed out and popped out the 
officer's spine out of place.  Despite his older body, it only took 
Harvey a quick punch to the man's head to kill him.  A nearby broom 
closet (which he laughably had the key for as part of the janitor's 
belt) hid the body.
	His powers were quick again.  With a touch, they were quicker.  
Easier.  Concrete was still difficult, but nobody made doors and locks 
out of concrete.  Not even in a facility that doubled as a prison.  He 
hurried as someone saw him punch through another door's lock.  Best to 
move quickly, he thought.  Nothing spoils a good mood like a firefight.
	He could see it again.  The path.  How things moved.  How they 
worked.  It was if he was looking at life with a pair of blueprint 
goggles.  That lock consisted of pins, springs and screws.  Light bulbs 
came apart easily from their metal caps and burnt out violently when 
the oxygen came rushing in to touch the filament.  Bones were as 
visible as skin to him.  He could even start to see the outlines and 
layers of organs.  An unlucky janitor running for the alarm as Harvey 
stocked towards him suddenly felt his heart peel like an apple and 
explode with the force of its own pumped blood.  
	He could visualize the mortar between bricks and cause them to 
separate.  He could see the security cameras tracking him, and when he 
raised his hand, he caused the delicate microchips inside to simply 
unsolder themselves from their tiny circuit boards.  The gun of the 
police officer fell apart with springs and screws popping out of the 
side.  Bullets fell free from the magazine and spilled forth their 
gunpowder as the lead slug and primer came loose.  

	It was beautiful.  

	He paused to catch his breath and looked behind him.  Five people 
lay dead or twitching in agony.  Two doors opened.  One brick wall with 
a hole through it.  Flickering emergency light was the best this 
facility could offer to counter the onslaught?
	Harvey laughed out loud at how simple it was.  It all was.  With 
a touch.  A look.  A notion.  Everything came undone.  Absolutely 
everything. 
	Another door.  Harvey smirked and raised his hand to it.  The 
lock made a sound, but when he tried to open it, the door wouldn't 
budge.  This one felt different.  Reinforced somehow that he couldn't 
figure out.  
	"More magic?" he guessed out loud to himself.
	He focused inward on the lock.  The lock resisted him.  He turned 
his attention to the hinges, but whoever had sealed the door had 
thought the same way he did.  Wood.  Wood was hard.  It was complex.  
Certainly no more complex than bones, but when he attacked someone's 
bones, he attacked the joints and not the actual fibre and cells.  
	"A test," he told himself with a smirk.  "Come on, Harv.  You can 
do this."
	Kneeling down, his eyes came to the exact middle of the wooden 
door.  Slowly, very slowly, the paint began to flake away from the 
surface.  Sweat began to pour off of his face as he tried to maintain 
focus.
	"Nothing to it, man," he told himself.  "Come on, this is 
nothing.  Just a door.  You've reversed time for a second chance.  This 
is nothing now that you're so strong again."  His hand came up and 
pressed into the material, willing it to bend to his magic.
	Wood grains became visible to him.  The ridges became deeper.  
Layer by layer, the door began to work itself apart.  There were no 
splinters or cracks, but instead, it started to expand as if bloated 
with water.
	It was like running a mile, he decided.  At his age, that was 
saying something.  Slowly, the door began to bulge to the point that it 
seemed made of wood-coloured straw.  Then, it stopped bulging and would 
take no more of his magic.  Along the lock and hinges, the door was 
still whole and strong, but the wood moved around his hand when he 
pushed.  Exactly like straw.  Uncomfortable, but he could force himself 
through at last.
	On the other side, he saw the lock that had been forged against 
him was still in place.  Cut into the wooden frame was a long line of 
strange symbols all linked together.  They glowed a dim orange when he 
raised his hand to them.  No matter how hard he tried, his hand would 
not come closer than a foot to their surface.  
	He tried to force his magic into the symbols themselves, but he 
couldn't visualize them in the same way.  They resisted his attempts to 
concentrate and his power felt weak as he gazed upon them.  
	"Move," he grumbled to himself.  "Don't waste any more time, 
idiot."
	Harvey turned around to see where the mysterious door had 
deposited him.  Another door, this time metal, was not locked by magic 
and took only the tiniest bit of effort to force open.  This led him 
into a shower and locker room that looked and smelled underused. 
	"What the hell is this place?" Harvey wondered out loud as he 
passed another door.  
	A pair of very surprised security guards stood up at the end of 
the hall.  One reached for his side-arm but collapsed in shock when his 
arm went limp.  "Shoot him!" the man cried out before his jaw popped 
off its hinge.  
	The other guard raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.  Harvey 
had weakened the bullet shells, however, and the explosion took off the 
man's hand.  
	Harvey walked past the two men as they mumbled and cried out in 
pain.  He knelt down and touched his hand to each of their necks.  Both 
were silent as he stood back up and dusted his pants off.  
	This room was massive.  A huge circle of raised stone was under 
the domed roof.  Slivers of sunlight cast down from the day outside and 
formed a half-moon of clock ticks on the floor.  
	"Daylight.  Finally," he whispered to himself, pulling off the 
janitorial outfit and tossing it over the dead guards behind him.  

	There was a sudden flurry of light as he turned around to face 
the exit.  

	Thomas MacDonnell walked through the door, face turning from 
hurried concern to something between surprise and horror.  Harvey felt 
a smile slipping onto his face.  
	"Where's Ian?" Thomas said, dropping his coat and bag.  
	Harvey just shrugged.  "Oh, he's fine.  Afraid some of the alarms 
might be because of his sister, though."

	Tom drew his sword just as Harvey lashed out for his heart.  











Chapter 31











	The last thing she remembered was the whip ripping into her 
stomach.  Everything turned white, then shimmered to black as if she 
had just witnessed every nerve in her head burn out like an 
overstressed light bulb.  
	Jesminder sat up in shock, hands flying to her stomach, expecting 
to find a ragged, fatal mess.  She looked down only to see a long white 
silk shirt covering her.  More than that, her hands were free.  There 
were no chains anywhere. 
	"Oh, God..." she whispered, looking around the hazy shapes of a 
regal, mansion bedroom around her.  "I'm dead."
	The room slowly came into focus.  White marble floors and high, 
cathedral-like archways hung under a ceiling too high to see in the 
foggy light.  
	She moved to stand up, then gasped in surprise when she found the 
floor to be freezing cold.  Things felt amplified.  The luxurious silk 
on her skin.  The cool marble.  The breeze smelled like a garden as it 
flowed through an open window by the bed.  Jess pulled her feet back up 
onto the sheets and laid back down, staring out the window.  
	Morning.  Maybe by the ocean?  That would explain the fog.  "Is 
this a dream?" she asked herself.  "Am I in heaven?" It certainly 
didn't feel like hell.
	There was a kind of Saturday-morning haze to the world that made 
her smile.  The air smelled like someone had been baking something very 
delicious a day before and it mixed with the flowers and ocean spray 
coming in from the window.  When had she ever smelt anything like that?  
Been able to pick out so many different scents and nuances at once?
	Confusion and worry finally faded for Jesminder.  Her eyelids 
became heavy, but not so much as she wondered if people had to sleep in 
heaven.
	Images.  Flashes of something.  A dark room.  A blinking red 
light.  Someone was sleeping nearby.
	Something touched her cheek.  She jumped back into consciousness 
and realized that someone was kissing her there.  It felt familiar, as 
if such a thing happened all the time.  Her eyes opened and she saw 
Chris there, hovering over her with a few wisps of hair falling down 
onto her nose and tickling her.
	"Where are we?" Jess whispered to him, feeling the tension in her 
body melting.  
	"You're dreaming," Chris smiled, leaning forward and kissing her 
on her forehead.  He was also wearing a similar white, silk shirt and 
pants. 
	She stopped herself from making whatever sound she was about to 
make when he slid up next to her on the bed, letting his hand trace her 
stomach as he went.  "Are you dreaming this too?"
	"Maybe," Fiss smiled at her.  "Does it matter?"
	"I guess not," Jess whispered lazily as she found herself kissing 
him again.  
	Dream kisses.  Better than fantasy, but not quite as real as they 
ought to be.  Heat without all of the passion, but pleasant enough to 
keep snuggled in the covers five or ten more minutes. 
	Five minutes, she told herself as they kissed.  Then, she would 
wake up and have to go to work.  Have to catch the bus on time, but 
five minutes of this wonderful warmth really couldn't hurt.
	She let out a little gasp as his hand found the seam between her 
shirt's buttons, nudging them apart as it traveled upwards from her 
navel.
	Images.  A door.  It was opening.  Light.  Then, they faded as 
Chris began to massage her shoulders and neck.  "You're tense," Chris 
whispered as his hand worked along the skin between her breasts and 
along her collarbone.
	Jess shook her head, trying to refocus on the strange images. 
"Something's w-"
	Chris pressed his lips to hers again, this time with more force 
than just the teasing, romantic kisses.  Jess caught a long breath 
between their lips, only to be recaptured by his lips again.  It was so 
familiar.  So wonderful and hot and delicious in all the ways that made 
those five minutes turn into ten.  Then twenty.  Then a sick day with a 
big tub of ice-cream, a romantic movie, bottle of wine and a little bit 
of alone time with herself.
	This was so much better.  She reached up and ripped his shirt 
off, exposing his shoulders and chest.  "Oh, yes, please..." she gasped 
as he pulled her shirt open.  A button popped free and the cool, 
delicious smelling air across her chest pulled what little breath was 
in her lungs at that point into a desperate gasp against his neck.
	Chris pulled her up to sit on his thigh as they each worked at 
each other's shirts.  Why the almighty, wonderful powers of Heaven had 
decided not to give her undergarments no longer seemed to be much of a 
problem for Jesminder, and in fact, she was now very certain she was in 
heaven as she pulled herself against his body along his thigh.  
	She was free of the chains.  At least her legs.  Maybe one arm.  
How did that happen?  "You," he whispered into her ear, "are so sexy."
	Jess whimpered as his mouth moved down her neck and meticulously 
traced concentric circles on the soft, taut flesh of her breast until 
his tongue found her left nipple.

	Ten minutes, she promised herself.  Ten minutes.  	  
	
	"Lay back," Chris whispered, tilting her head back with a kiss to 
her chin.
	Her bra came undone.  But, she hadn't been wearing one here.  
Hadn't she?  Something didn't make sense.  Something sharp.  
	No.  Soft.  More kissing.  His hands followed her body all the 
way down to her waist.  His hair began to tickle her stomach and she 
laughed.  "Stop it," she giggled.
	His hands were smooth.  So smooth.  Why were they so smooth?  
Using a sword meant calluses.  She had felt them the last time their 
hands were touching as they walked through the woods to find a cooker.  
Heaven, she told herself as his kisses went lower.  Heaven made 
everything better, right?
	It certainly made the kisses better.  The way he flicked his 
tongue along her skin and the way his saliva made her skin tingle in 
the cool morning air.  Yes.  Maybe that was all it was.
	Someone shouted, then was silent.  Something wet.  Something hot.  
Something horrible in a bad place.
	"No," she whispered, then found herself at the mercy of his 
tongue.  "Yes, oh..."  Everything became soft and gooey inside when he 
moved below her navel.  Twenty minutes?  Surely the alarm clock could 
wait if this wasn't Heaven.  "Yes...right there..."
	As the touching continued, her resolve to focus melted into the 
puddle she felt growing where he was licking.  Something slimy.  
Horrible burning and sopping, soaking sweaty.  Then, back to the silk 
sheets and blue sky and the way that tongue worked her just right.  
	Pleasure kept on being interrupted, as if she had to swat away an 
annoying, buzzing fly.  Someone shouting.  Someone else screaming.  
Something tight on her chest.  Around her neck.  
	Then, as she gasped, it was only air.  Again, on the bed.  With 
Chris between her legs, making her wish for God to extend those ten or 
twenty minutes just a little longer.  Just a little more.  A little 
more as her hands slid down his stomach and into those silk pants he 
wore as he came up for air.  
	Slowly, she began to see the cracks.  The problems.  The things 
that weren't real.  
	The way he kissed and touched.  They were just like the dreams 
she had.  The fantasies.  The desires.  Nothing seemed real.  Her body 
was fooled, but her critical mind began to awaken from the pleasure.  
It began to voice its concern.  
	"He wouldn't do that," she whispered as Chris nibbled.  "Not 
there," as he squeezed along her neck in a possessive gesture.
	"Of course, I would," Chris laughed softly, pulling her closer.  
"Any requests?"
	She shook her head, smiling up at his face.  He looked so 
perfect.  So wonderful.  But this was a fantasy.  Of course he'd look 
like that.  "You're doing everything just right," she said quietly.  
"That's the problem."
	"JESS!" someone shouted, and she felt the chains again.  Her arms 
free.  Then, another kiss.  
	Chris' eyes were concerned.  Worried.  Truly, personally worried.  
She had seen him when a hundred lives were at stake.  Thousands.  That 
was a different look.  This was something else.  
	"Jess..." he whispered, holding her tightly.  "It's hard to 
explain.  Not all of this is fake."
	"But it is fake," she whispered into his ear.  "Something's not 
right.  I'm not dead.  This isn't heaven, and you aren't here with me, 
are you?"
	"I am," Chris protested with a kiss, but this time she resisted 
and pushed him away.  "Honestly, I am."
	"Don't," she said.  "I don't need you to protect me.  Not with 
fantasy."
	The words seemed to deflate him.  His hands slowly came away and 
he parted slowly as they sat up together.  
	"It's your choice," Chris said, eyes still showing the same worry 
that made her angry and flattered all at once.  Worry that could have 
caused the man to launch a thousand ships, wage war, or even tell the 
truth in the middle of a magical fantasy.  "I beg you," he whispered.  
"Stay.  Just a bit longer."
	"I'd like to," Jess admitted, feeling him through his pants and 
all around her in the strength of his arms and the warmth of his breath 
on her forehead as he kissed her there.
	"Then stay," he begged, hand coming up to cup her cheek.  He was 
so warm.  So perfect. 

	So fake.  Five minutes was enough.  

	"No," Jesminder told him and herself.  "Please.  I want the 
truth."
	"You won't like it," Chris said in a kind of sad promise.
	She laughed.  "I know.  But it's important.  Especially if it's 
you," her eyes shimmered in the false morning glow.  "It has to be 
real."
	Chris nodded, and slowly, the dream began to melt.  "You're so 
much braver than I expected."
	Jesminder nodded.  "Thank you."
	He leaned forward and their lips touched again.  This time, he 
felt real.  Silly.  Unsure.  Real.  So very, deliciously real.  

	Reality came rushing back a second later.  Screaming.  

	She heard her own screams before anything else.  Then, as her 
eyes refocused, she saw the mass of bone-white flesh above her, shaking 
back and forth in some kind of farce of a natural act.  Pinning her to 
the stone of the wall as her shoulder wrenched in its socket from the 
chains.  
	Jess looked past the monster and cried out anew as she saw the 
decimated body of Jean, slumped and broken in the corner.  Tears traced 
along his cheeks as he had been forced to die, watching the attack 
against his friend.  
	And the blinking.  The red, steady blinking of the camera as it 
filmed the act itself.  Impartial and cold to her screams and the 
strangely amused smirk of Marish as she watched from the door.  
	Blood was everywhere.  It stained her body where the claws had 
been.  Where Jean's life had been taken from him against the wall.  
Then, a crimson gush as the thing fell out of her, panting through the 
glowing mask it wore.  

	Chris had been right.

	Acid.  It felt as if pure acid was forced into her.  Pure, 
agonizing fire, as registered by her every nerve and every inch of 
skin.  If she could have pulled out her own uterus at that very moment, 
she would have given a kiss to whoever the saint was that lent her the 
rusty spoon to do it with.  
	"Pain," Marish offered with the tiniest blip of sympathy, "is 
common, but it will die down in a day or two."
	"You..." she shivered weakly as Marish lead the Aszap away.  Its 
phallus was spent and her blood was still all over it.  "I'll kill 
you," she promised.  "I will...kill...you..."
	"So I've heard many times," Marish turned to Jess with the same 
smirk she wore while witnessing the rape.  "I've been wrong before," 
she explained quietly as the horse-beast limped away.  "I suppose we'll 
know soon enough."
	
	Jess screamed out in rage as the door closed, leaving her 
ravaged, alone with Jean's body and the red, steady blinking of the 
camera.











Chapter 32











	"Describe," Waddin said, hands crossed in front of him, "what 
events you witnessed that showed Emperor Sanis' hidden agenda with the 
Senshi."
	"I object!" Dave shouted, drawing familiar groans and shouts from 
the crowd.  "The offence is leading the witness and defence into a 
guilty position by loading the question!"
	Luckily for Dave, Maury and Sanis, the law caretakers were 
absolutely fascinated by the performance.  "Explain?" one offered, not 
waiting for Dolesbur's own objections.  
	Negaverse court seemed more geared towards quickly drawn 
conclusions than anything else.  Whoever spoke first was right.  
Whoever answered first was telling the truth.  Lies took time to 
fabricate.  Stalling took time to engineer.  
	"If," Dave said, "during a murder trial, you asked a prisoner 
what he ate on the night he murdered someone, if he were to answer then 
the court would obviously view his guilt as assured.  Instead, the 
question should be stated with an alleged or an accused crime to 
clarify the difference between admitting a crime and questioning in 
pertaining to a parallel circumstance."
	"Fine," Waddin said quickly.  "Honour Guard Yen, would you please 
explain what lead you to believe the Emperor was conspiring with the 
Senshi?"
	"Much better," Dave commented idly, taking a sip from a coffee 
mug he had pulled out of his coat.
	"Myself and Honour Guard Sapna," Yen said, "have been assigned to 
the Emperor since his first day as our ruler.  I have borne witness to 
no less than eight interrogation sessions, in which our Emperor gave 
his talents to mentally question a suspect or member of the court."
	"And when was the last time?" Waddin asked. 
	"Thirteen months ago," Yen said.  "During the Cuddy Rebellion.  
The leader of the resistance was-"
	"Objection!" Dave said.  "This prior case has no barring on the 
current charges!"
	"We will see," Dolesbur growled.  "If it does not, then no harm 
done in extending this trial by a few moments.  Continue, please."
	A great grumble of grievance came from the crowd, and Dave 
chastised himself for not reviewing recent events in the Negaverse 
Empire beyond the star entropy destroying their crops.
	Sapna shook her head at Yen, pleading for him to stop, but his 
mind had been made.  "Thirteen months ago," Yen continued.  "The leader 
of the Cuddy Rebellion was captured and I guarded the Emperor as the 
interrogation began."
	"For those who are not familiar with our Emperor's power, would 
you please describe this process?" Waddin offered politely to Dave's 
obvious distain. 
	Yen nodded.  "Emperor Sanis is an extremely powerful Mindgate.  I 
believe the term in the human's society is telepath.  This quality has 
been a prized possession of the royal family since the dawn of time, 
and most marriages into the family tree have been biased towards 
increasing this power with new Mindgates."
	"Fascinating," Dave said dryly.  
	"So as not to place the Emperor at risk of physical harm," Yen 
said, ignoring Dave's comment, "the prisoner is made not to move by 
either restraints or by chemically induced sleep.  Then, the Emperor 
can then conduct mental interrogation, trials, or even torture if the 
subject is resistant."
	Sanis looked out over the court with anger in his eyes. 
	"I've been a warrior all my life," Yen said.  "But nothing could 
prepare me for what I saw when the woman tried to resist the 
interrogation."
	Maury looked down at the boy.  He was pale.  "It's okay."
	"No, it wasn't," Sanis sighed, shaking his head. 
	"She seemed locked in a moment of pain long after the healers 
confirmed she was dead," Yen said as a strange hush washed over the 
spectators and the guards became nervous. 
	Dave studied the reaction.  These feelings were still fresh in 
everyone's mind.  They were dangerous, but useful at the same time.  
The only question was who would come up with a way to use it first?  
His PDA only had brief references to this rebellion.  Better to say 
something. 
	"What does this have to do with the current charge?" Dave asked 
finally after the pause reached too long.
	"Comparison," Waddin said.  "Please, continue."
	"We were worried when the Senshi came aboard," Yen said.  "Didn't 
know if he was a Mindgate or if he had any mental defences.  We came up 
with a plan to test the Emperor after each session to ensure his 
personality hadn't been compromised."
	"Then I don't see the problem," Dave interrupted.  "Unless you 
discovered that Emperor Sanis was changed by Maury Sol, I-"
	"He was changed," Yen shouted.  "Sleep!  He fell asleep during a 
mind link with the Senshi!  How does a Mindgate go from destroying a 
woman inside out to playing sleep-over?"
	When nobody said anything, Dave took a step towards the centre 
platform.  "I don't know," Dave said coolly.  "Emperor Sanis, have you 
often mistook a person who had wilfully surrendered to your complete 
authority with someone who has been waging war upon your regime?"
	"No," Sanis said quickly.  "I would have never used that 
interrogation technique unless it was to save lives!"
	"Thousands of lives were destroyed!" Waddin announced in step.  
"You ordered the murder of your own people wh-"
	"And saved thousands more from a chaos that they could not 
prevent!" Dave bellowed over him.  "This rebellion was about a food 
shortage!  Had the rebellion succeeded, there would have been no more 
food and no more stability than if it had failed!  By failing, the 
Empire was left intact so it could focus on more pressing issues such 
as ensuring you had FOOD on your plate this day!"
	"MURDER!" Waddin cried out.  "All to save his precious troops!  
Is that what-"
	"WHAT?" Dolesbur shouted from the throne.
	Dave turned to Waddin, who suddenly looked horrified.  Dave 
smirked.  Waddin had fucked that one up.  Fucked it up big.  
	"What EXACTLY do you mean to say?" Dolesbur growled, standing 
from the throne.  
	Sanis and Maury watched the entire focus of the room turn from 
themselves to the two Viziers in absolute amazement.  
	"Uhm..." Yen offered.
	"Shut up, child," Dolesbur announced, pointing to him.  "You will 
speak no more until I have answers."
	Waddin was silently pleading with the old general with looks that 
could have been used to placate most people in a hostage negotiation.  
None of them were working, however, as the man was too direct to notice 
the subtle 'it was only an expression!' face that the Civil Vizier was 
wearing.  Dolesbur turned his attention to him and raised a fist as the 
crowd erupted in murmur once again.  
	"If nothing else," Dave said, walking over to Mo and Sanis, "I 
bet this is the funniest trial you've ever seen."
	"No," Mo said with a chuckle.  "Last January.  Clowns accused of 
gang rape in a petting zoo.  Hard to beat.  This comes in at a close 
second, though."
	"I do what I can," Dave bowed his head.
	"What I meant to say," Waddin said quickly, taking a step back as 
Dolesbur advanced on him, "was that the troops in the suppressing of 
the rebellion were under Emperor Sanis' control!"
	Mo and Sanis watched with confused looks as Dave began counting 
down on his fingers from five.  
	Dolesbur was livid.  "You miserable, pile of self-righteous-"
	"OBJECTION!" Dave shouted as his countdown ended. 
	Everyone was surprised and silenced by the sudden interruption.  
Dave walked calmly over to Waddin and placed an easy hand on the man's 
shaking shoulder.
	"This has nothing to do with the charges laid against the 
defendants," Dave said sweetly.  "Differences between the civilian and 
military aspects of the Empire can wait until after this trial.  Don't 
you agree?"
	Waddin nodded quickly.  Dolesbur glared at Dave.  "You," he said, 
reaching for his sidearm, "seem to take an obscene amount of pleasure 
at interrupting me."
	"It's closer to a perverse amount of pleasure," Dave grinned at 
the man, readying his 'rubber chicken' counter should Dolesbur pull his 
weapon.  "Shall we continue?  Or do you think I'm just all talk and no 
'kick your ass into next week'?"
	"I would like nothing better than to test your 'kicking'," 
Dolesbur growled.
	"It wouldn't be a challenge," Dave smirked.  "If your fighting 
skills are anything like your logic, a ten year old who's watched too 
much Dragon Ball Z has more skill than you do."
	Dolesbur was about to retaliate, when he too realized that Dave 
had been speaking entirely in his mind.  Unlike Waddin, however, he 
seemed to be only phased for a moment.  Likely, the military trained 
its people to resist mental attacks.
	"Drop the charge against Sanis.  Don't make Maury an excuse to 
change up your regime," Dave said.  "You want to throw down?  Fine.  
We'll do it on the only charge you haven't completely lost.  Your own 
people don't trust you.  How do you think they'll react when we explain 
that Maury tried to help them?"
	Dolesbur glared at Dave Reinquest, then turned around and stormed 
back to the throne.  To the eyes outside the conversation, it had 
seemed as if the two men had just finished a staring contest.  Only 
Sanis seemed to understand what was going on.  
	"You never told me David was a Mindgate," the boy whispered to 
Maury.  "Such actions within a trial are strictly forbidden."
	"Dave?" Maury blinked.  "Well, I know he's smart...but I've never 
seen him do anything like what you did."
	"Normally, I would be able to tell," Sanis said with a slight 
smirk on his face.  "Of course, being on trial seems to have distracted 
me.  I promise not to mention it."
	"That's awfully generous of you," Mo smiled.  
	Dave still had the faintest bit of worry on his face, however.  
"End this.  Now."
	Dolesbur turned to the centre of the court.  "Emperor Sanis, the 
charge of Grand Treason is hereby dropped against you."
	A mixed roar of disgust and relief came from the crowd as the 
bench of law caretakers nodded their agreeing of the act.
	"We're done," Dave insisted.  
	"No," Dolesbur growled, turning to Waddin, then the caretakers.  
"No, I don't believe we are.  Still have one charge to deal with that 
you can't weasel out of with a quick word or a loophole I haven't 
noticed.  The mass slaughter of innocent civilians.  This 'limitation' 
due to time is only Sol law, and it will not become Negaverse law in 
the course of a single evening!  The trial continues!"
	Dave cracked his knuckles and pulled out his PDA, reviewing the 
charge.  Yen slinked quietly away from the centre of the room.  Sapna 
refused to look at him.  The green glow faded around Maury and Sanis, 
and one of the other guards came up to take Sanis' arm to lead him down 
from the platform. 
	"No," Sanis announced.  "I stay." 
	"Yes," Maury cleared his throat.  "Dude.  This is not the time.  
I'll still invite you for beers without this."
	Sanis turned to Maury and shook his head.  "This Senshi, from the 
day I accepted his surrender, has been my responsibility.  I will stay 
with him to ensure justice is observed.  Also, the Military Vizier 
retains the seat even if I choose to step down from the platform."
	The guard turned to Dolesbur, who just shrugged.  "You're right.  
I do.  Stay if you want.  It will not save him."
	Slowly, the green glow returned.  Maury frowned at Sanis.  "Just 
for that, you're getting nothing but American beer."
	Sanis just smiled.  
	"That's bad, you see," Maury grumbled.
	Dave was having a hard time gauging the crowd.  There was a lot 
of anger here.  It was still hard to determine who they were angry 
with.  It was clear that loyalties were divided, and even people who 
had been booing together earlier were now arguing amongst themselves.  
	"As uncovered by the late Political Vizier," Waddin announced 
shakily, "Maury Sol and a small group of Senshi had arrived on the Home 
World during the end of the first Era.  During the course of two days, 
nearly one thousand civilians lost their lives to the attack.  Many 
more soldiers lost their lives as well.  Bravely, in the course of 
their duty," he added, hoping Dolesbur would warm to the compliment.
	"Out of all the thousand people present here," Dave said loudly, 
"only one was actually there to bear witness to the events, and he has 
yet to give his testimony."
	"We are to trust a murderer and enemy over our dearly departed 
Vizier?" Waddin said with his voice soaked in mock anger, or at least 
it sounded to Dave that way.
	"Strange that Vizier Yean lost his life only days before this 
trial," Dave pressed.  The startled, angry looks on both the Viziers 
faces confirmed that they had been the ones editing the report.  "Very 
convenient if he were to know a hidden truth that this court did not 
want to hear."  
	"Objection!" Waddin shouted, raising his hand.
	"Statement retracted," Dave grinned, bowing his head to the 
caretakers.  "Please, continue, Vizier.  My client is ready to answer 
any questions you have to test his innocence."
	"You mean his guilt!" Waddin said. 
	"If I did not know him to be innocent," Dave said with a shrug, 
"I would be glad to help you convict him.  Earth law frowns upon mass 
slaughter.  However, I know the Senshi to be innocent." A small smirk 
appeared on his lips.  "If you'd like to save yourself and this court 
from embarrassment, I would suggest you drop the charge against him."
	"The charge stays," Dolesbur announced before Waddin could reply.  
"For the sake of all those gathered here today who want justice."
	"It's alright," Maury announced, causing Dave to cringe slightly.  
"That's why I'm here, right?  To explain what happened."
	Dave turned to Maury and sighed.  Had to happen sometimes.  "The 
Defence opens the floor to the witness in accordance with Negaverse Law 
for questioning."
	"Don't mess this up," Dolesbur growled darkly to Waddin. 
	Waddin looked pale, but Dave wasn't worried about the Vizier to 
begin with.  He was more worried about the two thousand eyes now 
trained solely on Maury Sol.  











Chapter 33











	Five minutes and three seconds on the timer.  
	
	The spell reflected off of Thomas' sword once again as he swung 
it flat like a shield.  Unlike the previous battles, he wasn't leaving 
any room for Harvey to strike.  While Harvey tried to throw another 
spell at the man, he realized too late that Thomas had closed the 
distance between them enough to hit again.  This time, his leg gashed 
open.  Even with the pain-dulling cigars, his leg moved slowly and 
gushed enough blood that he worried about bleeding out.
	Desperate to buy him some time, Harvey had used his abilities to 
bring down several metal beams from the roof to use as cover and ducked 
behind another as Thomas tried to chase him down.
	"You're not getting out of here alive," Thomas shouted.  "Give up 
and you don't have to die, Harvey."
	"How about a truce, son?" Harvey shouted back over the warning 
alarms as they stalked around each other using the beams to as cover.  
Had the guards not been killed, and the rest of the facility in an 
uproar, the five minute mark would have summoned a dozen Coats.  "I got 
what I came for.  All fixed up.  I'll just leave and I won't bother you 
again.  Your healing mage is alive."
	Thomas felt insulted.  "You've killed dozens of people to get to 
him.  You have to be brought to trial for what you've done.  You know 
that."
	"They got in my way!" Harvey growled.  "They're nothing.  No 
power.  Tell me you don't feel the same way!  You're not like them.  
You have magic, just like me!"
	"Actually," Thomas said, suddenly beside him, "no, I don't."
	Harvey pushed himself away in time but the tip of Thomas' sword 
slashed through his back as he leapt to the next fallen beam.  Tom was 
about to follow, but he felt his shoulder swing free from the sudden 
action.  
	Both men grunted in pain as they landed behind the I-beams.  
Thomas forced his shoulder back into place, watching the white sparks 
of pain dissipate from his vision.  Harvey shook as he realized the 
cigar was wearing off.  The cut was sparking a vicious chorus through 
his nerves.
	"I may as well kill you then!" Harvey cried out, pulling himself 
back to his feet.  "I won't be in much shape to escape."
	"It's a training area," Thomas shouted back.  "You stop now, and 
the cuts go away, just like magic.  Stop now and I can guarantee your 
safety!"
	The metal behind him warped angrily as Harvey threw his power at 
it.  Steel was too uniform and strong to dismantle, but the effect was 
enough to make Thomas stumble out from his cover.  
	"It's you that should run away from this!" Harvey shouted, 
shattering the bonds between Thomas' foot bones.  "YOU stop now, and 
YOU get to live.  Final offer!  Let me go!"
	Thomas pulled himself back into the shadow of a new I-beam, 
limping on one leg.  He cursed himself, but readied his sword, knowing 
it would prevent any further injuries.  He looked towards the door 
behind him.  So long as he stayed on this side of the dojo, Harvey 
wouldn't be able to run past him.  
  
	Three minutes, twenty seconds left.  

	"What's the timer for?" Harvey mused out loud as another alarm 
sounded.  "What happens if we're still doing this in four minutes?"
	"Then this fight counts.  You'll bleed to death," Thomas said, 
testing how much weight he could place on his foot.  "And I have to get 
a cast."
	Harvey nodded to himself.  "You shouldn't have told me."
	"Well, I'm a nice guy," Tom smirked.  "Was kind of hoping you'd 
come in quietly."
	Thomas jumped out from behind the beam and hobbled towards 
Harvey.  Harvey reached out with his powers and caused an overhead lamp 
to detach from the roof.  Thomas dodged the lamp as it crashed to the 
ground, but the distraction was not enough to afford Harvey a clear 
shot.  They both disappeared behind cover once more.  
	"Oh, come on," Harvey grumbled as he felt his blood staining his 
back.  "I could just say sure, I surrender, then pop your neck when you 
tried to take me in.  Isn't it better this way?  At least you can feel 
like you're fighting when I kill you."
	The fight and growing pain was causing both of them to breathe 
heavily now.  Thomas deflected two more blasts of power easily.  As 
they hit his blade, they seemed to take on a shadowy blue form, warping 
the air as they were deflected.  It was only instinct and whatever 
magic was inherent in the blade that allowed him to know where the 
spell would hit.  
	It didn't mean the hits were random, though.  Harvey was smart.  
He kept going for his arms or legs.  The easy-to-damage, hard-to-defend 
extremities.
	As the one minute klaxon sounded and continued to fill the air 
with an air-raid style scream, Thomas prepared himself for a final 
charge.  His foot complained as he stepped on it, but it felt like he 
was simply wearing a loose shoe, not stepping on broken bones.  He 
could run on it for a few steps, he hoped.  
	"Last chance," Thomas shouted, hoping the siren in the air 
illustrated his point.  "No turning back.  I won't let you get away."
	"Sorry, kid," Harvey shouted back over the noise.
	Thomas and Harvey both ducked out from behind their respective 
cover at the same times.  Instead of a straight line between them, 
however, metal beams and broken lights littered their path.  Thirty 
seconds.  
	The remnants of the lamp exploded as Harvey tried a tricky shot 
at Tom's neck through the cover.  Thomas held his sword low and ready 
to attack.  He would only get one shot, he assured himself.  He would 
only need one.  
	Harvey managed to finally connect his power and separate Thomas' 
right elbow, but both his hands were on the hilt of his sword to 
provide stability, and it was not enough to stop the attack.  He pulled 
himself out of the way of Thomas' blade as it swung at his neck.  

	It was only by the virtue of luck that his throat fell behind the 
iron faster than the sword cut through it.  

	Had Thomas used the strength of both arms, his sword would have 
won and slashed all the way through the iron, just like Miharu had been 
practicing earlier.  Instead, there was a jarring stop just before the 
blade reached the other side, and only the tiniest superficial scratch 
was scored on Harvey's skin.
	Thomas felt himself grow cold as he realized his blade was stuck 
in the solid mass of metal.  It wasn't pulling free in time to stop 
Harvey from spinning around the beam.  The mage growled in effort and 
shoved his hands into Thomas' lower back
	Pain exploded in Thomas' brain as his kidneys were peeled apart, 
layer by layer.  The sensitive nerves were ripped away from the tissue 
and left to float free in the bubbling mush that his lower abdomen was 
becoming.  
	Adrenalin shot through his body in a last-ditch effort to save 
himself from death, and his sword came free to swing and connect deep 
within Harvey's chest, nearly severing his arm and ripping his ribs and 
lung open.  
	Harvey stumbled back in complete shock, falling out of the circle 
as the timer reached three seconds.  Thomas felt cold as the clock kept 
going, sealing his fate.  
	And just like that, everything Thomas had done to Harvey was 
erased.  The massive cuts to Harvey's legs and back were gone.  The 
blow that should have killed him – would have killed him had he stayed 
in the circle for just another heartbeat or two – was no longer there.  
But as the timer ended the seven minutes with a horrible, ear-splitting 
screech, Thomas knew his wounds wouldn't go away.
	He was about to bleed to death.  The sheer inevitability of it 
hit him as hard as the pain, and he stumbled to his knees, shaking 
uncontrollably as Harvey picked himself off the ground, marvelling in 
the fact he was once again whole.
	"My God," Harvey said quietly as his eyes turned to Thomas.  "You 
weren't kidding.  Just like that...good as new.  That's incredible!"
	Thomas pulled himself forward, trying to reach the edge of the 
ring.  Surely there was some kind of safety.  Some kind of backup.  He 
prayed it was so.  "Max," he coughed.  "Come on, Max, help me out 
here."
	Harvey watched the man crawl with a smirk on his lips.  "There I 
was, thinking you were like me.  That you had power.  You're all 
trained up.  Have a big old sword.  And here I am, just a bum in your 
eyes, and I kill you because you're too stupid to get out of my way.  
It's an instinct a five year-old knows: not to get in the way of a 
speeding bus.  You stupid little brat!"
	Pressure was building in Thomas' stomach.  He could barely 
breathe and he felt dizzy as his eyes were having trouble focusing on 
the objects around him.  He was bleeding into his own gut, filling up 
like a water balloon about to burst.  All he could do to stay conscious 
was to keep the image of his brother in his head.  Avenge me! Max had 
shouted.  Avenge me!  
	"I'll get him, Max," Thomas gurgled, feeling bile and blood rush 
up to his mouth.  He spat out violently, leaving a massive red splash 
on the floor as he inched closer and closer to Harvey.  All of a 
sudden, Harvey became everything Thomas had to defeat.  All his self 
doubt.  The monster that killed his brother.  All those drugs.  Even 
Frank, the cherry-red GTO.
	Harvey's smirk was fading.  "At least have the decency to die 
gracefully.  Look at you.  Crawling like a baby," he said, raising his 
hand.  
	Thomas' knee popped out of place, and he collapsed in a heap with 
blood rushing out of his mouth and nose.  Still, he forced himself 
forward, using his bad foot to propel him.  
	"Stop this," Harvey shouted, this time aiming for Thomas' hip.
	A loud, grating sound filled the air as his hip popped out of 
place, but the pain was already so great that Thomas' brain had no 
problem simply cataloguing the event and allowing him to continue his 
final few moments.  His hand reached to his waist and freed the 
scabbard from his belt.  Then, it returned to the grip of his sword and 
he started using it like a cane to pull himself back up to his feet.  
	"Avenge me!" Thomas shouted out in rage, lashing out with one 
last burst of adrenalin.  
	Harvey gasped in surprise, but managed to destroy what little 
strength Thomas had in the swing by disconnecting his wrist.  The sword 
missed his throat, but stabbed deep into his shoulder, incredibly 
lodging itself there.
	Despite the pain, Harvey was still standing.  He gripped the 
sword in his shaking hands.  "All that," he groaned.  "All that for a 
shoulder?  You poor bastard."
	Thomas felt his legs give out beneath him, but he forced himself 
to hold onto his sword.  Harvey tried to pull away, but Thomas wasn't 
budging on his side of the magic circle.  As Tom looked up the length 
of the shimmering blade to the mage, he felt a strange calm overtake 
him.  
	He was dying.  His brain wasn't getting enough blood.  Soon his 
heart would stop and he would simply go to sleep and never wake up.  

	Why was he looking at Harvey's scruffy little beard, then?

	Beast had told him that the metaphor was key.  That one couldn't 
just use magic from an instruction manual.  That everyone was 
different.  
	His attention slowly turned back to his sword.  It was beautiful, 
even when covered with blood.  Massive.  Thick.  Made of so many 
individual facets of metal.  Like a tangled thing ironed flat to form a 
weapon.  Why did that seem so important to him?  Why was he suddenly so 
intrigued by every little line?  Every woven piece of steel that made 
up his blade?
	"Get off me!" Harvey demanded, trying to pull himself free of the 
sword, but Thomas' miniscule strength kept it pinned to his shoulder.  
"Fine!  You're dead anyway.  Hold still or this is just going to hurt 
you more..."
	Harvey was saying something.  Probably something important.  
Thomas could feel the man's power reach out and grasp his heart.  
Unravelling it slowly.  Taking it apart, cell by cell.  Muscle fibres 
began to strip away from the sides of the various chambers, and he felt 
strangely intrigued by the process.   

	So intrigued that he decided he should try it too.  
	
	Harvey felt something was wrong.  Something within Thomas.  His 
heart was about to join his kidneys as mush, but the man still fought.  
Adrenalin?  Determination?  Stubbornness?  

	No. 

	Something else. 

	Something familiar.  

	The last thing that either man saw was Thomas' sword transforming 
into a tangle of razor-sharp spines.  The metal expanded through 
Harvey's chest and ripped his heart and lungs apart, each of the 
hundred or so blades swinging out with the force of a coiled spring.  
	Thomas felt strangely at peace with the image of his sword 
transforming.  Even more so as he realized that he had caused it to do 
so.  
	"It's beautiful," he remarked as Harvey fell backwards, dead.  
Thomas fell forwards, out of the circle and into the blackness that 
awaited his ravaged body.  It really didn't concern him, though.  It 
all seemed to make more sense now.  

	"So beautiful."











Chapter 34











	Nathan awoke to the sound of marching.  It was the last sound he 
had expected to hear...if anything ever again.  The room was dark, and 
while sitting up, he smacked his head on a roof, causing dry dirt to 
shower down on him.  He coughed and hacked as he spat out the soil, and 
he chastised himself for ruining his nearly perfect 'wake up quietly' 
routine.  
	"About damn time," came an old woman's voice, somewhere else in 
the room.  "It's alright.  Thank you.  Bless you," she said, ushering 
someone out of the room.  
	His eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight in time to see two men 
leaving his field of vision.  They were tall and in robes, and he 
instantly decided that they were neither of Marish' group, nor Eden's 
Will.  The woman was ancient and her rounded shoulders hid all but the 
top of a messy head of grey hair.  
	They walked up an ancient set of stairs that complained under 
their weight, and disappeared above.  The woman watched them leave and 
then muttered a little prayer, crossing herself before walking back 
over to Nathan.  
	"Who are you?" he said, finding his voice intact.  "Who were 
they?"
	"I'm the host," she said shortly.  "I'll ask the first questions.  
Who are you?"
	Nathan sighed.  "Nathan Maysonet.  United States Homeland 
Security, on special diplomatic assignment with the Crystal Canada 
government."
	The old woman looked suitably impressed and amused.  "So, your 
last name is Government?"
	"Maysonet." 
	"Yeah, I got it, it was a joke," she chuckled.  "Kids these 
days..." she trailed off, walking over to a desk that sat by the 
opposite wall.  "People around here call me Jittery Janna.  You know 
why?"
	"Of course not," Nathan said in frustration.  "I just met you and 
I have no idea where I am."
	She turned to him and grinned.  "Ahh, good.  We'll get along just 
fine."
	Nathan scratched his chin, finding a good three days of stubble 
there.  
	"They call me Jittery because I'm the only one who pays attention 
to all the bad things happening out there," Janna explained finally.  
"Before you ask, I'm no friend to the Will, nor whatever caused you to 
wash up on shore clinging to a dead Aszap."
	Nathan chuckled, leaning back on his little earthen shelf-bed.  
"So they float.  Funny."
	"It probably saved your life," Janna said.  "Not something Aszaps 
do well when alive."
	"Where was I?" Nathan asked.  
	"Bay of Needles.  No ships go out that way due to the coral.  
Luckily, those two men travel along the coast a lot."
	"So they found me," Nathan said.
	"Joe and Sam," she said, raising her fingers to her mouth and 
kissing them.  "I only wish they had time to stay a spell.  I have so 
many questions for them..."
	"Will they be back?  I need to ask them what's out there.  You 
see, my friends are..."
	"The Needle of Sheol," Janna said quickly.  "Swimming is the only 
way back out there.  Nobody in this world knows the correct wards or 
script to travel there unless they're the kinds not to help you out."
	"You know about it?"
	"I thought I just said I did," Janna smirked at him.  "But you 
need to relax.  There's no way you're getting to the coast right now 
anyway."
	Nathan frowned.  "You don't understand.  I HAVE to."
	"Michael will be here in three days to take you back to the City 
of SkitZ," she sighed at the young man's impatience.
	"Michael?" Nathan blinked.  "You know SkitZ?"
	"Better than most," she grinned at him, sitting down next to the 
desk.
	"Listen," Nathan said, sitting up.  "I need to go now.  Right 
now.  My friends don't have much time.  I've been out for a few days at 
least, and they probably think I'm dead."
	"You can't leave," Janna shrugged.  "Not without Michael helping 
you."
	"So I'm a prisoner here?" Nathan said angrily.  "I trade one 
prison for another?  Is that it?"
	"Don't be foolish, Nathan," she sighed.  "I'm not keeping you 
here, I'm only saying..."
	Nathan stood and strode for the stairs.  
	"NO!  WAIT!" she gasped, running after him, but her old bones 
were no match for his speed.  
	He took half the stair case at once, rising up the old wooden 
spiral into a large room that appeared to be some kind of a store 
front.  A barrage of smells hit him and he felt instantly sick.  
	Janna caught him before he fell over, and both of them grunted as 
she laid him down on the floor.  "Yep.  Definitely a friend of 
Michael."
	He groaned as she placed him against the wall and hurried over to 
a cupboard to retrieve some food and medicine.  The only sound he could 
hear now was that terrible marching and people chattering outside the 
walls of the shack.  "What IS that?" he asked as she handed him some 
dominion jerky strips and a cup of something wine-like that smelled of 
rancid cheese. 
	"That's why you can't leave, stupid boy," she grumbled, walking 
over to the front door.  
	Nathan froze as she opened it and he saw the marching Eden's Will 
army.  She left it open just long enough that he saw four Aszap 
cherubim marching along with them.  One started to turn to the door 
just as it closed. 
	Janna swore under her breath and, using nothing but her hand in 
mid air, drew a massive glyph of magic on the door.  Then she peered 
out through one of the cracks through the old wood, and in a moment, 
relaxed.  
	"The Will knows your true name.  Every Cherub they control will 
recognize you on sight," Janna explained, walking away from the door 
but leaving the magic seal intact.  "Until my son arrives, you're stuck 
here.  Only a Knight can counter Cherub magic."
	Nathan munched quietly on his dragon meat and drank his cheese 
wine.  
	"You aren't surprised?" she asked, realizing her words a moment 
later.  "Most can't believe an old hedge-witch like myself gave birth 
to the-"
	"You swear under your breath like he does," Nathan interrupted, 
earning a small smile from the old woman.  "And he has your eyes."
	"Bah," she laughed, sitting down against the counter next to him.  
"He learned his swears from me, not the other way around.  Yamato will 
bear witness to that.  Though, this 'fuck' thing is pretty new."
	"And what, exactly, is a cooker plug?" Nathan asked.  
	The old woman laughed.  "An old wives tale, at least I hope.  
Basically, shaving a cooker and shoving it into your ass and letting it 
pop."
	"That explains a lot," Nathan said, wishing he waited until after 
dinner to ask.  Luckily, hunger won out over the mental image.











	Days passed and Jesminder saw nobody.

	The camera had gone dormant without Jean to care for it.  Marish 
had been angry that the camera man had tried to intervene, and Jess 
hadn't bothered asking what was done with his body.  Pain still clouded 
the memory of the last few days, and she was glad that she hadn't 
witnessed her friend's death.  It would have only broken her heart more 
to know she could do nothing.  
	She tried blaming herself for a short while.  Told herself that 
if she hadn't asked Jean to stay, he could be free and alive now.  
Maybe even escape with Nathan.  But deep down, she knew that Jean 
wouldn't have left her to be whipped another night.  They had saved 
each other's lives more than once, and neither would have hesitated to 
jump in front of a bullet, sword, or rampaging perverted cherub for the 
other.  
	Thoughts of what had happened surfaced in small waves over her 
time recovering.  There was a horrible, cutting pain below her stomach, 
and the smell of the cherub was everywhere.  She hadn't even noticed 
until afterwards how much they stank.  They reeked of something 
inherently disgusting.  The closest she could come up with was week old 
spank-rags at a seedy peep-show in LA. (The boss never did pay her back 
for the Gravol she needed to cover that story...)
	When vomiting became impossible due to a lack of anything in her 
stomach, Jess began to worry about starving for the first time in her 
life.  None of the servants seemed to want to come into the room 
anymore.  She could hear people walking by occasionally, and tried 
shouting out for food...water...anything.  Nobody ever answered, and 
the voices just kept going past.  
	Even the thin, nearly-depleted reed in front of her started to 
look appetizing, and she was now tortured by the dual effect of needing 
its water and knowing it would only hurt more now that an additional 
three days worth of moisture lay on the ground at its base.  It now 
looked like dark green fat piano wire with tiny patches of sand-paper 
attached to it. 
	Pain, lingering sickness, and lack of food made her days skip by 
like she was watching the sun in a slideshow.  No more dreams came to 
her and she was glad.  At least she wouldn't be confused once she did 
die.
	The slap to her face surprised her.  Doubly so when she realized 
how little feeling came through over the dull ache in her stomach.  
	Her blood was thick as it dribbled along her chin, and she 
realized the Razor Weed was off its hook and in the hands of a very 
drunk-smelling Devon.
	"A puzzle," he rambled hotly next to her.  His breath reeked of 
something stronger than the dessert wines she had enjoyed during the 
feast so long ago.  "A puzzle.  A piece here.  A piece there.  But what 
good is the puzzle if she won't let me complete it?"
	Jess tried to tell the man to shut up and go away, but her throat 
was closed with thirst.  She let out a painful little gasp, but it was 
the best she could do.  
	"I bet you think," he hissed at her, spraying her cheek, "that 
all that whipping was just for my enjoyment, don't you?  You think me 
mad?"
	She nodded.  
	"Stupid!" Devon shouted at her, hitting her again.  
	This time the pain was clear in her mind, and she cried out in 
her non-existent voice.  It was only then that she realized Devon had 
wrapped the reed around his own fist, and his knuckles were red with 
their own blood.
	"Little puzzle box wouldn't know any better," he sighed 
dramatically, staggering backwards.  "Who, in all honesty, is aware of 
their full potential at all?  Even a street urchin can pick up a sword.  
A decrepit housewife still protects her little cubs with vicious anger.  
If only you could see the possibilities in your flesh!" Devon cackled, 
taking a step closer.  "Possibilities.  Answers.  Secrets!  All of it 
is contained here," he pressed his hand against her left breast, "in 
your thin, frail little covering."
	Jess found renewed strength as she tried to struggle free from 
his grasp.  The very real possibility that she would have to endure 
further horrors overrode all the pain and hurt inside her.  
	"Oh, hush you," Devon gritted his teeth, pulling his hand away 
finally.  "I wouldn't treat you like those animals.  What I want from 
you is not taken by some sexual act.  I bestow it upon you, and you 
give up those secrets willingly through your screams."
	Jess swallowed back the fear in her throat.
	"Your screams," he said darkly, "then your blood and your 
flesh...and finally," he pulled his knuckles across her arm, causing 
her skin to burn with razor-sharp cuts, "finally, your death will give 
me my answers."
	Jess felt tears falling down her cheeks, and she wondered where 
she had pulled the moisture from, being so thirsty and tired.  
	"You would rather them?" Devon whispered harshly.  "They'll come 
back, you know.  Until they're sure you're carrying their spawn.  
They'll keep invading your dreams to ease themselves into your body."
	Jess listened to his voice, becoming perfectly still.  
	"Was my way so degrading?" Devon asked honestly.  "I was so 
pleased to hear Marish would not throw you in to be bred with them.  
They normally shy from women like you.  Strong women.  Powerful women.  
They respect power.  It's how she can control them.  And I wept when I 
heard they had taken you, because I knew what they saw was only but a 
moment...a heartbeat of weakness in a storm of confidence!"
	She blinked slowly, surprised at the man's sudden honesty.  It 
was almost as if he was sorry.  
	The old man shook his head and pulled a small flask from his 
belt.  "It will help your throat."
	Jesminder nodded and allowed him to pour some of the foul-
smelling booze into her mouth.  She coughed around it, but forced 
herself to eventually drink.
	Devon waited patiently as Jess coughed and tested her voice.  
Another sip finally brought her around.  "And now," he said quietly, 
"Marish is scared of you.  That the Cherubim chose you over her orders.  
She has to tread lightly, or she'll lose the Bulls' respect.  What a 
waste of time," he scoffed.  "Playing politics with animals in heat."
	"You're telling me," Jess whispered. 
	Devon nodded, looking at the reed in his hand.  "They will leave 
you to starve while she plays this game with them.  Because of the 
script in your belly and blood, you'll endure at least one more week of 
this."
	She let out a sob before she could catch herself.  
	"Or," Devon whispered, "we can continue."
	Jess felt her entire body grow cold, and the excited look in 
Devon's eyes told her that she had heard him correctly.
	"It will not be slow," he promised.  "At most, three or four more 
strikes and I believe your secrets will be ready to come out for me."
	"You think too highly of me," she whispered sadly.  "I'm about 
ready to drop right now."
	"I do think highly of you," Devon said, standing.  "So I give you 
this chance.  Marish owes me a boon.  I will ask her to erase whatever 
punishment I incur by doing this."
	Jess looked at him.  "What did they do with Jean?"
	Devon seemed surprised by the question, but nodded.  "He was 
given a respectful send into the ocean.  None of us considered him 
useless.  He showed us a powerful and amazing new tool!  I look forward 
to seeing what this camera can do.  Perhaps I can learn it."
	She smiled despite herself.  
	"So," Devon said.  "Lashings until you fade, or another week of 
starvation, with more rape until you are turned into an eggshell for 
their army."
	Jesminder nodded.  "Do it."
	Devon never looked so happy, but there was something in his eyes 
beyond just the chance to solve a puzzle.  Something fuelling his hand 
as he unravelled the deadly plant from his fist.  
	
	He hated it. 

	He hated the Cherubs.  Marish.  All of it.  He hated them all, 
but could not get away.  This...task...was all that he had left.  He 
was sorry, truly sorry, and she could tell.  
	"I-" he began, noticing her inquisitive look.  "I wish-"
	"I forgive you," she said quietly.  "And thank you."
	His eyes were wet with tears, and slowly, a shaky hand came up 
and wiped them dry.  "Are you ready?"
	"I am," she said.  For some reason, it felt incredibly liberating 
to say those two words.  
	
	She lasted the first lash. 

	It seared into her chest and blood fell from her in a rapid gush 
onto her lap.  She watched Devon ready a second blow.  The pain was 
barely an uncomfortable pinprick compared to what the cherub had done 
to her.  
	He wound the reed again and it nearly cut her wrist clean off.  
The skin tore away and she looked up slowly to see herself bleeding to 
death down her forearm.  
	As she turned back to Devon, waiting for the third lash, he 
looked strange.  As if surprised by some great event that she hadn't 
seen.  
	"D-" she tried to speak, but her voice was once more destroyed.  
	
	He fell over.  Dead.  

	Jess felt a pang of panic fill her even as the man's body dropped 
to reveal a hot-white glowing mask behind him.  The door was open, and 
Marish stood there with her arms crossed.  "Stubborn old bastard," she 
whispered, mostly to herself.  
	"No..." Jess cried out as the cherub walked up to her.  Its mask 
gave way to the thing's tiny, shrivelled face, and she cried out in 
horror as it reached up and bit into her wrist.  
	It felt like she was being electrocuted.  Hot, angry energy 
flooded her body, renewing every bit of anguish her mind had been 
trying to block from her having to experience.  
	She passed out from the flood of pain, but it was an all-too-
brief vacation as she found herself free from all her chains but one 
tying her to the wall where Tambre had been.  
	Unable to move, she could still see that her chest was again 
whole, and some of the nastier cuts that she had started to suspect if 
had become infected were now healed.  
	Marish was standing over her, and Jess could see the thing that 
had raped her was watching from the door.  
	"Despite my objections," Marish said quietly, running her hand 
through Jesminder's hair, "it seems that this young bull has taken a 
liking to you.  I suppose there isn't much else I can do but humour his 
adolescent mistakes, especially when it seems a repeat session will not 
even be necessary."
	Jess felt tears welling up in her eyes as she remembered what 
Devon had said.  That they would keep raping her until they were sure 
she was carrying.  They were sure.  She didn't know whether to feel 
happy or sad at the idea.
	"Unfortunately," Marish continued, leaning down to whisper into 
her ear, "you seem to be most troublesome.  You and your friends have 
now either killed, or forced me to kill, six very valuable people.  I 
would very much like you to suffer for what you have done, and so, I 
will be testing a very special modification to the spell.  If all goes 
well, it will mature quickly enough to be sent out to the battle 
against the Cities of Fiss and SkitZ."
	Jess just closed her eyes, feeling the tears squeeze out as she 
did.  
	"And your child will carry a part of you with it," she smiled, 
kissing Jess on her forehead.  "So you can feel how wonderful it is to 
gut your own friends.  Won't that be nice?"
	
	Jess head-butted her jaw.

	Marish cried out in horror as a portion of her tongue fell off 
onto the floor.  Jess smiled, despite the splatter of blood across her 
eyelids.  "Please," she whispered, "God, please let her bleed to 
death."
	Jesminder kept repeating it like a mantra, even as Marish ran out 
of the room to have the wound healed.  
	The room was, minus her mantra and the occasional sob, quiet a 
moment later.  











Chapter 35











	"Negaverse Citizens would not stoop to begging," Waddin said 
proudly.  "Especially not on the scale you're describing!"
	Maury shook his head quickly.  "I didn't say we were attacked by 
ten thousand pimps, prostitutes and beggars.  I said a few people got a 
hold of those gate crystals and figured my home was as good a place as 
any to find food.  Even then, we have plenty of beggars on Earth.  The 
Senshi only became involved because of an attack at a supermarket."
	"Supermarket?"
	"A really, really big store.  Like a bank for food," Mo said.  
"Tuxedo Mask was there and tried to stop the Negaverse guys from 
hurting anyone as they escaped.  When they disappeared into a portal 
from one of those crystals, we realized where they came from and all 
the Senshi were notified in case it was another attack."
	"You mistook a few hungry people for an invasion?" Waddin asked 
with a smirk. 
	"Why not?" Maury shrugged.  "It was right after the big fight 
with Beryl, so we were extra cautious in case she had any traps set for 
us after her death.  Also, you mistook a handful of Senshi coming over 
to assist for an invasion.  We were both wrong."
	Waddin sighed.  "Fine.  Continue."
	"We were contacted by Jadeite's guards soon after.  Or, rather, 
Tuxedo Mask was invited because the two of them had old ties in the 
past.  They trusted each other, more or less.  Unfortunately, Tuxedo is 
not much of a farmer, so he called us up to help out."
	"Are any of the other Senshi farmers?" 
	"No," Mo said, "but the Senshi of Mercury is smart enough we knew 
she could figure out what was going wrong.  The rest of us came through 
to ensure she was safe, and because the attacks were continuing.  
Eventually, it stopped being just random hungry people, and some big 
guy in living armour came through and attacked my friend, Fiss.  
Jadeite explained a lot of the old warriors were taking their 
unemployment badly, and needed help to restore order."
	"This is hardly surprising," Waddin chuckled.
	"Pardon?"
	"Jadeite was at the end of a very turbulent time and was not fit 
to be a ruler," Waddin said.  "It would explain why he thought it wise 
to bring a group of sworn enemies into the royal capital."
	Dave cleared his throat before Maury said something angry.  
	"My understanding," Mo said, calming himself with a long breath, 
"was that Jadeite and the other generals were brainwashed by Beryl.  He 
was actually quite a nice guy after her influence was gone.  We were 
the only ones he could trust not to have some hidden agenda."
	He emphasized the last two words, and Waddin was clearly angered 
by the implications.  "So you're saying he should trust the murderers 
of his queen instead of the military and citizens he was supposed to be 
ruling?" 
	"All I'm saying is he knew what we stood for.  Yeah, there were 
casualties on both sides, but it was us defending OUR citizens and 
military from Beryl and her retarded yes-men!" Maury said angrily.  "At 
least he respected us and there were no hidden surprises.  We both knew 
what we were getting into.  Who are you going to trust?  A guy who used 
to be your enemy but has a raised a hand to you in peace, or all the 
little assholes like you who have a big smile on their face and a 
dagger hidden in their pocket ready to cut your throat?  He wasn't some 
second-in-command trying to buy power with murder like you are!"
	"Objection!" Waddin shouted over the mumbling roar of the crowd.  
"YOU are on trial here, Maury Sol!  Do not project your guilt onto me 
or anyone else!"
	Dave stepped forward.  "My client retracts the statement."
	"Yeah," Mo said half-heartedly.  Dave's glare stopped him from 
rephrasing it in a more degrading manner.  "Yeah, sorry.  Let's get on 
with the questions."
	"What happened," Dave said quickly, hoping to smooth the 
outburst, "after you and the Senshi arrived?"
	Mo cleared his throat, unable to find the pair of boobies in the 
crowd he had used to calm himself earlier.  "Well, after Tuxedo Mask 
realized he needed some assistance, he called me and Hooze to help out 
since he wasn't sure how the others would react to helping Jadeite so 
soon after the war.  We hadn't been much in the fight, but we knew we 
had to be on guard.  I honestly was looking forward to the chance to 
explore."
	Maury ignored the smirk and disbelieving murmurs from the crowd 
and Waddin.  Dave passed him a smile.  At least they weren't booing or 
demanding his head on a pike. 
	"Don't give me that look," Maury said.  "I missed a really cool 
episode of the X-Files with the mutant rats," he paused as he saw the 
confused faces around him, including from Sanis.  "Anyway, me and Hooze 
come over and start poring over the books.  We see that the Negaverse 
is in bad shape and know four years of high-school biology and home 
economics classes isn't going to fix things.  So, we send word to 
Mercury, who's the brains, and the rest of the Senshi who, despite what 
you may think, generally don't like seeing people starve to death."
	"You mean, enemies starving to death," Waddin punctuated. 
	Mo sighed, then ran his hand through his hair.  "Listen, you 
moron.  When we were fighting Beryl, there were no civilian deaths in 
the Negaverse because we quite frankly didn't KNOW about any civilians.  
We had NO problem with anyone from your home, so long as they didn't 
wear a general's outfit and summon gibbled-up monsters to fight us back 
on Earth.  In fact, even when word got out to your people where Sailor 
Mars lived, they sent some old honour-guards to try and kill her.  
These poor bastards' ancestors," Maury said, pointing to the civilian 
crowd around them, "were probably more worried about eating then 
killing."
	Dave smiled to himself as he saw the reaction of the crowd.  The 
connection would have been made anyway, but their eyes now showed a 
renewed interest.  This wasn't just about punishing some monster 
anymore.
	"Even when these honour-guard assholes come up to our homes and 
start attacking us, we fought THEM.  NOT YOU!" Maury shouted to the 
crowd, ignoring Waddin and Dolesbur altogether.  "Yeah, I don't care if 
all you see is some murderer or weapon standing here, but you need to 
get it into your heads that not everyone is going to think you're an 
enemy just because your leader tried to kill us.  We got past that.  
Now, one thousand years later, it's your bloody turn."  
	Waddin looked pale as Maury turned back to him. 
	"Stop trying to play me up as hating you all.  I only hate smug 
assholes who don't know when to shut up.  These folks," Mo said, again, 
pointing to the crowd, "I got no problems with them.  We should all go 
out and have drinks sometime.  I'll buy the first round and we can go 
from there," he said, to a sudden bit of laughter from the crowd.  
"Stop with all the bullshit and let's get this over with already."
	Dolesbur no longer looked murderous when Maury turned around.  In 
fact, he had a little smirk on his face.  "The offence will please do 
what the defence asked."
	Waddin looked around at the unsettled faces in the crowd.  He was 
losing ground.  He had been losing ground all day since the trial 
began.  What should have been a smooth, quick victory over both the 
Emperor and the Senshi was now a struggle not to lose credibility.  The 
Republic was falling before it even began.  Who would trust a civilian 
leadership that didn't command respect?  
	His mind ran through attacks and possibilities.  Counters to the 
arguments he knew this David Reinquest would attempt.  He had to be 
quick.  He had to go for the throat in the next few seconds, or the 
confused looks in the crowd would slowly turn into acceptance.  
	"The defence moves that the court have a small recess to 
regroup," Dave said suddenly, interrupting his train of thought. 
	"It is not the defence that needs to regroup," Dolesbur said, 
casting a glare at Waddin.  "Motion denied."
	Sanis and Maury watched the Vizier carefully.  "He's stuck," 
Sanis whispered. 
	"I thought you said you couldn't use your powers here?" Mo said.
	"I don't need them to see that he's stuck," Sanis said with a 
small smile.  "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
	The crowd was becoming restless.  They were sensing something was 
wrong.  That Waddin was faltering.  With Maury's passionate words still 
echoing in their ears, the Vizier wasn't working quick enough to negate 
the sudden pangs of sympathy the crowd was gaining for the Senshi.
	Maury wasn't celebrating just yet, though.  He kept his eyes 
firmly glued on Dave, who was now frowning.  "Something's wrong," he 
said. 
	Waddin walked over to the law caretakers and whispered something 
to the one holding the crystals.  With more nodding and whispering, he 
then reached into his robes and pulled out a very beautiful old book 
that practically hummed with magic, even from across the room.
	"The offence would like to ask Maury Sol to verify the accuracy 
of a historical spell," Waddin announced.
	"Objection!" Dave said, a little too quickly for Maury to believe 
it wasn't driven by some knowledge of what was coming.  "My client will 
not be used as a history book!"
	"Denied," Dolesbur announced.  "Maury Sol is part of Negaverse 
history.  You, yourself, have browbeaten the court with this fact.  The 
offence's request is valid."
	"By enacting the rite of Visual Spell representation," Waddin 
announced loudly, "I hereby vow it contains no harmful visual or audio 
components to compel this court."
	"Objection!" Dave said again.
	Dolesbur seemed to be enjoying himself again.  "Denied.  Mister 
Reinquest, this is a harmless tool of the Negaverse justice system, 
used to-"
	"I know what it bloody is," Dave said angrily.  "There is no 
guarantee that this spell will not harm myself or my client, being of 
different physiology."
	"Oh?" Dolesbur said.  "You've slept in our beds, eaten our food, 
entered the most powerful spells of justice and enjoyed our hospitality 
for nearly a week, but now you fear for your human bodies?"  
	A small chuckle arose from the crowd and Dave sighed.  "Objection 
withdrawn."
	"Please," Dolesbur said politely.  "Vizier Waddin, you may 
continue."
	Waddin wasted no time and took a thin, green crystal from the 
desk.  As he strode to the middle of the court, next to where Maury was 
being held, he read from the book in his other hand.  The crystal began 
glowing brilliant emerald, and projected a huge, holographic plane in 
mid air above his head.  
	Slowly, the image was filled with tiny, generic looking people of 
different colours.  One person was highlighted in red, while most of 
the others were a dull orange.  A smaller number of dark violet 
coloured people then appeared off to the side, and Maury had the 
sneaking suspicion that they were representing the Senshi.  
	"You move us with your forgiving words," Waddin announced, 
closing the book in his hands and slowly placing the crystal on the 
ground so he could gesture with his hands free.  "And you play down 
your role as a military force by explaining your intentions to assist 
our ancestors.  If this is true, then we owe you a great thank you."
	"You're welcome," Maury said, crossing his arms.  
	"Can you please tell us, getting to the point, what happened 
before your exit from the Negaverse?" Waddin said.  
	Maury nodded as he watched the simulation build.  "Sure.  The 
other Sailor Senshi arrived and made their way through the city.  
Eventually, they began to get badgered by people who recognized them 
and wanted them dead.  By the time they made it to Trut, the honour 
guards had assembled a mob to fight.  Jadeite tried to send in his 
troops to break it up, but there were too many people."
	"And did you and the other Senshi help?" Waddin asked casually. 
	"Of course we did-" Maury said, but felt a shift in the air above 
him as he watched the simulation start.  The red person cast the spell, 
and immediately, the crowd around the violet enemies began to turn 
black.
	"Did it happen like this?" Waddin said as the crowd began to 
murmur.  "Or did it spread out from the honour guard?"
	"Like this," Maury said, trying to avoid looking at Dave, who was 
rubbing his chin in frustration.  
	"And did you think," Waddin continued, "that Jadeite was right?  
Sending in his troops to stop his own people by force?"
	"It wasn't his fault," Maury said.  "He was trying to keep the 
peace, and then those asshole guards cast a spell that-"
	"Turned each person into a warrior shadow," Waddin said.
	Maury nodded.  "Yeah."
	"But you were there to help these people," Waddin shouted.  "Why 
would they have attacked you?"
	"Because of those idiot guards," Maury said, frowning.  "I told 
you that before."
	Nearly all of the simulated crowd had now been effected, and they 
rushed in over the purple enemies with ease.  
	"But that didn't happen," Waddin shouted, pointing to the 
simulation.  "The Senshi were powerful enough to hold their ground with 
the guards.  Tell me how you did this."
	"Shields," Maury said.  "Lots of magic shields."
	"But the shadows are resistant to magic," Waddin pressed.
	"Senshi magic is different than-"
	"Not completely," Waddin interrupted, pulling out his book of 
notes.  "I happen to be an expert on the old spells and it seems that 
several Negaverse mages were able to reverse engineer and adapt to your 
magical system.  Otherwise, no shield would work and all offensive 
spells would have destroyed their targets.  The very fact you were able 
to slow down the honour guards at the time indicate that magic was 
similar in both worlds."
	"Your point?" Maury growled. 
	"It didn't work for long, did it?" 
	Maury cleared his throat as he saw the eyes on him from all 
angles.  "No.  They started to break through the shields."
	"So, how did you defend?"
	"With force," Maury said, but shook his head.  "But non lethal!  
As best we could!  Even when I fought, I tried to make sure nobody 
died!"
	"But people did die," Waddin said, punctuating an angry silence 
in the room as the spell's effect now spread throughout the simulated 
battlefield. 
	Maury couldn't shake the image of a dozen of the shadow-people 
exploding into dust when he had lashed out in desperation.  So very 
long ago...he hadn't been able to control the level of the Sol Flare 
back then.  "Yeah," he whispered.  "I think a few people died."
	"That's enough," Dave said, stepping between the two.  "You 
cannot fault any of the Senshi for defending themselves in the middle 
of an angry mob, especially when it is clear that defence was their 
primary concern."
	Waddin's eyes glimmered.  "I would like to cite an old law 
myself.  Back in a more chaotic time, we had the Vigil Pact when this 
planet was still divided by territories.  The Vigil Pact remains law to 
this day, and is automatically renewed as a founding law along with the 
invasion definitions the defence so eloquently used earlier."
	"Would you like to challenge this ruling?" Dolesbur grinned at 
Dave.  "Please keep in mind that, should you challenge it, we will be 
forced to reinstate the charge of invasion."
	"No," Dave said sharply.  "Please, continue."
	"The Vigil Pact," Waddin announced, "states that no ally of a 
governing body can stand in the middle of a civil war due to selfish 
gains.  Furthermore, as the transfer of power was outside of military 
war-time, Jadeite's failed rule was actually the aggressor faction to 
the stable and established regime."
	"We had no way of knowing-" Maury tried to object, but Waddin 
just continued on top of him.  
	"And so, we now see the truth of your heroic adventure!" Waddin 
shouted grandly to the crowd.  "Invited by a false ruler to assist him 
in his failing control, you come to the Negaverse, arm yourself with 
warriors instead of diplomats, and destroy the one and only chance for 
stability in the Empire by cruelly disposing of anyone still supporting 
Queen Beryl!  INCLUDING these fine citizens' ancestors you spoke so 
highly of!"
	Maury felt dizzy with anger.  "No, it wasn't like that!  The 
guards!  They cast that horrible spell!  The people were forced-"
	"NO!" Waddin growled at him, surprising Mo and Sanis with his 
ferocity.  "You see the true brilliance of the Shadow Fire spell is 
that it only targets willing minds.  It allows final revenge for a 
desperate people whose only hope – as you had obliterated the Royal 
Guard – was to attack you with crude weapons and numbers!  Each and 
every one of those shadow warriors was a proud and loyal citizen who 
would have given their lives to stop you from invading their home to 
assist a failing, dying, desperate government controlled by a man whose 
only wish was to have his revenge against Beryl!"
	Dave just hid his eyes as Maury erupted in anger.  
	"You son of a BITCH!  You didn't even know the man!" Prince Sol 
roared.  "At least he was willing to try!  At least he was trying to 
save LIVES!" 
	"HE WAS KILLING HIS OWN PEOPLE!" Waddin raged back.  "In his own 
diary entries, that so-called saviour you fought and killed innocent 
people for, said he would have rather watched his entire race die off 
than do what was necessary to obtain food and water for them!  I have 
copies in his own handwriting!  Did you not notice?  Did he hide his 
intentions from you so perfectly that you believed his lies?"
	Maury felt cold.  
	"I quote, from the diary of Jadeite the Defeated:" Waddin 
announced, raising his accursed book to his eyes once more, "I am tired 
of this.  The court begs me every morning for answers that I do not 
have.  Food I do not have the power to find.  Weapons for the new 
soldiers still desiring glory.  An enemy to fight and conquer and rape, 
so our own woes don't seem so much.  Maybe it is because my hands are 
so tied that I do not raise them in objection.  But I know in my heart 
it is because we are finished.  We, as a society, could never survive 
our own hate.  Our own selfishness.  We will rot from these, our most 
prevalent qualities, and when I look at the rotting crops and failing 
lakes of water, I can't help but laugh.  Truly, we have made our own 
hell, and we are right to die at the very blackest bottom of it."
	Waddin looked up from the book at Mo, who was shaking in anger.  
"Oh, and look, a mention about you, Senshi!" he cleared his throat, 
reading from the document once more.  "The raids for food and supplies 
prompted me to ask the Senshi to assist.  Bitter enemies only a few 
years past, but now, I feel they should not suffer any longer for my 
people's evils.  Mamoru used to train with me back when the kingdoms 
were not so separate.  Back before Beryl's evil.  He says he'll bring 
his friends to help, and I hate myself for accepting his kindness.  
Better to just let us die."
	The court was nearly silent.  
	"Did you see nothing of this...this...coward's mood?" Waddin 
demanded.  "He had accepted defeat even as he could have saved 
millions!  Isn't that why you agreed to help in the first place?  
Because you...as you've said...know that this is wrong?"
	"I did it because Tuxedo Mask is my friend, and I trusted him," 
Maury said quietly.  
	"But you wouldn't just let a million people die, would you.  Not 
if you thought you could help them," Waddin smirked.  "And you knew 
that was going to happen if Jadeite continued."
	"I..."  Maury said, feeling more rage, sadness and frustration 
than he could ever remember feeling.  Waddin's mocking look of 
compassion forced the words from him.  "I'm not sure-"  
	"I'm certain," Waddin said, raising his voice to the grandstand 
level for the crowd once more, "that you believed you were doing good.  
But your misguided and naive attempt caused death and chaos for decades 
after you scurried back to the safety of your home."
	The crowd was practically feeding Waddin their energy now.  Every 
single angry face was directed at Maury.  Every nodding, pleased face 
was facing Waddin.
	"Maury Sol," Waddin announced, "we owe you a great thanks for 
your good intentions.  But, you owe us justice for the crimes you have 
committed against our people.  As leader of the Sailor Senshi, do you 
not agree that all actions made by your team were your responsibility?"
	Dave groaned as Maury nodded quickly, hoping to avoid any anger 
towards his friends.  "Yes," he said.  "The Senshi's actions were my 
responsibility.  I can't deny that.  They're innocent."
	"Then I pronounce you be sentenced to death for your crimes," 
Waddin said darkly.  "So that we may end this disastrous time and move 
on in good faith.  Wouldn't you agree?"
	Maury felt drained.  Defeated.  Waddin was right.  He was a 
bastard, but he was right.  They had fucked up, and he nodded slowly, 
realizing it in its entirety for the first time.
	"Ye-"	

	"OBJECTION!"

	The courtroom's attention shifted once more to Dave Reinquest.  
	Dolesbur glared at the man as he rolled up the sleeves on his lab 
coat as if he was about to walk into a fight.  "You're objecting to 
your own client?"
	"My client is an idiot," Dave said, earning a surprised look from 
Maury.  "And he's too damn good-natured to realize when he's about to 
do something REALLY stupid without explaining what happened after the 
Shadow Fire spell."
	"Vizier," Waddin said, "It is clear that this trial is over.  
Maury Sol has been allowed to see the truth of his mistakes, and he 
himself recognizes justice."
	"Tell them," Dave said, ignoring Waddin and tapping a message on 
the PDA in his pocket as quick as his fingers would allow.  

	"Tell them about the damn Silver Crystal."











Chapter 36











	"No," Frank whispered, "you're not gone yet.  I still haven't 
eaten your legs!"
	Thomas could hear Frank the GTO from through the walls.  His 
voice was stronger now.  He was almost fixed.  He was almost ready to 
eat his legs.
	He had been grounded for a month after his dad had caught him 
pouring glue and rocks into the starter in the middle of the night.  
For the longest time, he wondered if that had been a dream or if it had 
actually happened. 
	This part of the dream, however, was not from memory.  He was 
certain of that, because as he walked downstairs to the garage once 
more in the middle of the night, he passed by his parents' bedroom, 
which was empty, and by Max's room, who was sleeping soundly.  It had 
to be years after the starter incident, but he still felt small and 
insignificant compared to the huge staircase and the high doors.  
	He could feel the fear clearly now.  It was no longer a dream, 
but reliving a false memory.  "I'm going to stop you, Frank," he said 
out loud as he snuck down the stairs in the moonlight.  "My dad doesn't 
believe me that you'll eat my legs, so I have to stop you myself!"
	"Of course he wouldn't believe you," Frank whispered through the 
walls of the dark house.  "He's on my side.  He never wanted such a 
silly, useless kid.  He told me that I can eat you so he doesn't have 
to pretend to love you anymore!  Ha ha ha!"
	"Dad will love me when I show him I can kill you!" Thomas 
insisted.  "He's just scared you'll eat his legs too if he tries to 
stop you!"
	The garage door was locked this time, but Thomas knew where the 
key was, hidden in a coffee tin high on the counter.  He climbed up on 
the dining table chair and retrieved the key easily.  
	"You can't kill me," Frank laughed darkly.  "I'm too strong.  
Even if you take apart my heart, your dad will only need to put it back 
together."
	Thomas opened the garage door and felt the cold outside air rush 
past him.  It was like he was opening a door to a dark cave where a 
monster slept in the darkness.
	Frank was silent as Thomas stepped carefully around the back 
bumper and over to the workbench where the starter was still 
dismantled.  His father had cleaned it, but not had time to put it back 
together.  
	"I'm going to eat your toes tonight, as soon as you step back 
down on the floor," Frank advised as Thomas sat himself down on the 
high stool.  "I bet you'll scream nice and loud when you see little 
bones wiggling instead of your toes!  Ha ha!  Won't that be a sight!?!  
Do you think they'll rattle when you walk?"
	"Shut up!" Thomas cried.  "You're not going to eat my toes!"
	"And when you scream, your mommy and daddy will wake up and see 
you here and they'll hate you for being out of bed so late.  Won't that 
be wonderful?  They may not even notice your toes are gone!  Won't they 
feel foolish when they see you bleeding out of your socks?"
	Thomas wasted no time.  He found the screwdrivers and tried to 
pry the motor apart further.  To his horror, the screws seemed to be 
tightening on the protective covering of the wire coil inside.  With 
great effort, he twisted the screw until it almost came free, but he 
would always slip up at the last turn and it would scramble back into 
the hole.  
	Frank was laughing all the while, sounding more and more like 
someone else Thomas knew.  Someone he wouldn't meet for almost two 
decades.  
	"What's the matter?" Frank/Harvey wondered out loud.  "I told you 
before, you can't kill me with just a screwdriver.  You'd have to rip 
me apart, and you're too weak and tiny!"
	Thomas slammed his fists against the metal and wire, earning only 
bloody knuckles.  He cried out in pain and a dog started barking from 
outside the garage.  
	"Oh, no!" Frank mocked, "I think you woke up your parents!  I 
think they're coming down the stairs right now!  You'd better hurry up 
and run away!"
	"No!  No!  I don't want to be eaten!" Thomas shouted, grabbing 
the motor in his hands.  
	"Better hurry and run away!  Join the circus!  Then you can be 
with the other freaks!"
	"I'M NOT A FREAK!" Thomas screamed.  
	A pulse of light and energy came from his hands, and he gasped, 
surprised by the feeling coursing through his body.  He watched the car 
shake in pain in front of him.  
	"NOOOOO!!!" Frank/Harvey screamed as the motor fell apart in 
Thomas' hands, leaving the mass of wound wire left.  "No!  Don't!  I 
promise I won't eat you!  No!"
	Thomas lifted the coil in his hands as metal and screws rained 
down onto the floor.  "No, Frank," he whispered.  "You are a bad car."

	Light exploded from Thomas' hands, shaking the entire garage.  
The wire began to unwrap itself, and he heard Harvey scream in pain as 
it came undone.

	Then, he heard himself grunt in pain.
	His vision was blurry, but Thomas saw a surprised nurse rush over 
to him, holding him down.  "Please!  Mister MacDonnell!  Calm down!"
	The dream was still flooding through his mind, but he managed to 
figure out he was in the hospital yet again.  "What happened?" he 
asked, but his voice came out as barely a squeak.  
	He fell asleep once more.  
	Dreams.  No more of Frank or Harvey, but strange dreams 
nonetheless.  Images of being taken to the hospital.  Ian and his 
sisters hugging him.  Had Ian saved him?  Thomas had been so sure he 
was going to die.  Ian couldn't bring people back from the dead.  
Couldn't he?
	His hands, once he found he was both awake and lucid enough to 
use them, felt around all the places Harvey had attacked him.  
Everywhere was sore, but nothing felt broken or cut.  It felt like he 
had fallen out of the ring on time.
	"I told you," Miharu said from the door as he checked himself 
over.  "Seven minutes."
	Thomas looked up at her, confused.  "I heard the timer go off.  I 
should be dead, right?"
	She nodded and walked into the hospital room, closing the door 
behind herself.  "One of the things with angel magic is that it can be 
interpreted in different ways.  We had to make it believable, and we 
knew seven minutes would be enough for most situations."
	It was morning outside as she opened the curtains to let the 
sunlight peak through.  
	"Then why am I-"
	"We didn't have enough guards to ensure the safety of the ring," 
Miharu said quietly.  "We knew this and we're training them as fast as 
we can.  But we figured nobody outside of the Missionaries project knew 
that we could do this yet.  Eventually, however, we knew someone would 
abuse the system.  Stay in for an extra few seconds, or get caught up 
in the heat of battle, or be silly enough to tell an actual enemy about 
the seven minute rule."
	Thomas felt himself blush.  
	Miharu laughed and shook her head.  "It's okay."
	"It was pretty stupid," he admitted.  "I kind of hoped he'd 
surrender if he thought he wasn't already dead."
	"And that might work sometimes," Miharu smiled.  "We hope it 
works all the time.  I would be very happy if none of you ever have to 
draw blood in anger ever again."
	"So..." he said, sitting up slowly in his bed.  "How did you get 
around the seven thing?"
	"Pardon?"
	"Well, you said angel magic works like that.  Seven minutes.  
Seven days.  Like that."
	Her grin was legendary.  "We didn't get around it.  The actual 
time limit is seven hundred and seventy-seven seconds."
	Thomas blinked. 
	"Just shy of thirteen minutes," she winked.  "Don't tell anyone 
else, please."
	"Cross my heart," Thomas smiled weakly. 
	She sat down next to him, with her smile fading.  "Yamato is 
pissed."
	"Sorry?" Thomas blinked.  
	"Your sword looks like it was pried open, shard by shard, then 
hammered back together," she explained.  "Did Harvey do it?"
	Thomas remembered the way he had caused the blade to open like a 
spring.  He looked at Miharu, who noticed his delay, and he shook his 
head slowly, realizing she would likely find out eventually.  "No.  I 
think I did it."
	She nodded, obviously pleased to be hearing the truth.  "No harm 
done.  The hilt is forged solid, and it sprung back after a while into 
its regular shape.  I'll tell Yamato it was Harvey so he doesn't give 
you a hard time."
	He smiled and bowed his head.  "I'd appreciate that."
	Miharu nodded and stood, walking towards the door.  "The doctors 
say you'll be okay in a day or two.  You still owe me ice-cream."
	"Aren't you..." he said, then felt silly for considering it.  
	"Aren't I what?" she frowned.
	"Aren't you going to lock me away now?" he asked quietly.  "I 
mean, if I have this power-"
	"Then you have an amazing gift," Miharu said sternly.  "And if 
anyone tells you otherwise, basing their opinions off of the actions of 
a psychotic old man, I will get personally involved with their 
sensitivity training.  Is that clear?"
	"I think," he said quietly, "that I may have had it from before."
	Miharu walked back from the door and stood next to him.  "It's 
just like any ability, Thomas.  Like anything else you can do.  
Running, or driving or-"
	"It killed so many people," he said.
	"Cars kill more people every day then you're likely to kill for 
the rest of your life," Miharu sighed, looking at the IV drip in his 
arm.  "You want me to jump this up with some Prozac or something?  The 
doctor owes me a favour, you know.  I fixed his computer.  Bad habit I 
learned from my dad."
	Thomas smiled despite the worry in his throat.  "No, that's 
fine."
	"It's a big change," she said, leaning down to take his hand up 
in hers.  "But I've seen how you've pulled through all this and I'm 
damn proud of you for stopping that man from ever hurting anyone else.  
And, hell, I'm just some crazy chick who threw a severed head at your 
crotch.  Imagine how your little bro would have felt," she smiled.
	He turned red at the thought and the compliments.  "I hope so."
	"I know so," she nodded.
	They were silent for a moment, and Thomas found himself once 
again trying very desperately to not stare at her.  "Uhm, hey, I was 
wondering...if this ice-cream thing works out..."
	"Hold on," Miharu said, reaching into her pocket as her PDA 
started humming.  "Hello?  Oh, thanks, Kirk.  Okay.  I'll be right 
there."
	"Leaving?" Thomas asked, regretting how pathetic he sounded. 
	"I need to duck out.  Your team is coming to visit you in a 
second, and I don't want them to know I was here telling you all these 
secret things," she grinned.  "Remember, if you tell anyone about the 
thirteen minutes, I'll tell Yamato who messed up his shiny sword.  
He'll have you cleaning coal from his forge for the next hundred 
years."
	"Your secret is safe," Thomas said, then paused.  "Are you going 
to tell them I'm a mage?"
	Miharu shrugged, walking to the door.  "I figured you would."
	She left after another wink, closing the door behind her.











Chapter 37











	The crowd was still seething in anger after Maury agreed to 
continue the trial without admitting his guilty conscience.  It took 
almost a full minute of the screeching crystal's use to force everyone 
back into silence.  Debate, naturally, had been useless during this 
minute, but Dave had used his time wisely, preparing his next attack on 
his PDA.  
	As Dave walked over to the center of the room, Waddin moved back 
and stood next to Dolesbur.  "You did good," Dolesbur said quietly.  
	"It's not over yet," Waddin whispered.  "What good was that if he 
just convinces the crowd again?"
	Dolesbur turned to him with gleaming eyes.  "Look at them," he 
whispered.  "They're ready to rip the Senshi apart with their bare 
hands."
	"What about the Republic?" Waddin frowned.
	"This is clearly not the time," Dolesbur shrugged.  "If you wish 
a second chance at the Emperor, then we have to worry about proving 
this Senshi guilty first.  Look at them," he said, motioning to the 
crowd.  "They'll see you as a hero the moment his blood falls from his 
body.  His defence only made the victory more dramatic.  But we need 
that victory now.  If you lose this, the Empire will stand long after 
we have been buried!"
	"I'm glad you're not putting too much pressure on me," Waddin 
hissed at him. 
	Dolesbur just smiled as Waddin strode back to the middle of the 
room.  "That is the difference between great leaders and failures.  
Pressure - and what you do with it."
	The room's roar was now lowered to the point the trial could 
continue, and Dave was quick to act, knowing there was no more time to 
bask in their earlier victories that day.  One charge was all they 
needed to either lock Maury away or kill him on the spot.  The only 
thing stopping them from doing it were the row of ancient men and women 
guarding the law.  He had to appeal to them, and also win the crowd to 
the point that they weren't going to lynch them should Maury walk free.  
He was very, very glad to see his message had gotten through the 
barriers, and William now sat, camouflaged in robes, high in the 
stands.  Dave was concerned when he saw Dora next to him, but decided 
she would be safe so long as they didn't reveal themselves.  
	"The Silver Crystal," Dave restated.  "Maury Sol, would you 
please describe the powers and limitations of the crystal?"
	"Uhm," Maury shrugged, "well, it has the power to purify people, 
or magic.  Sailor Moon can use it regularly to banish monsters from 
people's bodies or objects."
	"Can it be used by anyone besides Sailor Moon?" Dave asked.
	"No," Maury said with a shrug.  "It was the whole reason that the 
guardians were searching for the princess, and not Sailor Moon to begin 
with.  All they knew was that the person had to be of Lunar Royalty."
	"And also why Beryl couldn't find it?"
	"Yeah, I suppose so," Maury smiled.  "She had all her generals 
hunting for it and even though they knew more about it than Sailor 
Moon, all their searching didn't come up with anything."
	"So," Dave said, pacing back and forth as the occasional shout or 
boo came from the crowd, "is it safe to assume that nobody in the 
Negaverse would have been able to activate the Silver Crystal?"
	"I'd say so," Maury nodded.
	Dave looked at him with pleading eyes.  "Other than yourself, of 
course."
	Maury blinked, then nodded.  "Oh, yeah.  I could order Sailor 
Moon to do it too, so I guess that means I could have."
	Dave breathed a sigh of relief, then re-centered himself.  "You 
mentioned healing powers.  Can Sailor Moon heal large amounts of 
people?  Purify them from magic?  Or banish a curse much stronger than 
a regular monster?"
	"Yes," Maury nodded, "but-"
	"But?"
	"She has to give up her own energy to use it to that level," 
Maury explained. 
	"What kind of energy?" Dave asked. "Some kind of power reserve?  
Magical energy?"
	"No," Maury said.  "She has to use her own life force.  It's 
actually very dangerous for her to attempt to completely heal any one 
person, let alone a large number."
	"Fascinating," Dave offered.  "Now, forgive my change of topics, 
but can you please describe how long the Shadow Fire spell lasted?"
	"Uhm, it didn't really stop," Maury said, starting to get what 
Dave was working at.  "There didn't seem any way to counter it with 
magic, and the shadow people were starting to blow themselves up."
	"Did blowing up cause the people to come out of the spell?" Dave 
asked.  
	"No, they were dead.  We found no trace of anyone who exploded," 
Maury sighed. 
	"And this effect, were others immune to the explosive 
detonation?"
	Maury paused, thinking back to the moment.  "The shadows seemed 
to explode in groups.  I'd say it was like it was contagious."
	Dave nodded, then turned to Waddin.  "I'd like to call the 
resident expert, Civil Vizier Waddin to answer some questions regarding 
this spell."
	Waddin looked surprised, turned to Dolesbur, then the bench of 
law caretakers.  "Can he do that?"
	One of the caretakers stood and walked over to Dolesbur.  He 
whispered something to the general, then took his seat.  
	"The Defence can call portions of the offence to testify, so long 
as they accept the risks of a biased opinion," Dolesbur said with a 
smirk.  Clearly, his opinion would have been rather biased had he been 
given the chance.
	"The defence accepts the risks, Vizier," Dave said.  "You said 
you were an expert of magic in this era?  I hadn't even heard a name 
for this spell until you mentioned it."
	Waddin turned to Dolesbur, looking for advice, but found nothing 
but his colleague's waiting grimace.  "Yes, I suppose I am.  I used to 
study ancient magic, including the Shadow Fire spell."
	"And, in fact, in showing the court this spell through the 
crystal, you had to cast a portion of that spell.  Is this not 
correct?"
	"Yes, it is," Waddin nodded. 
	"So you know the history of this spell and have the knowledge 
enough to cast it in a controlled environment.  You also have expressed 
knowledge of the effects on those who accept the spell's result."
	"Yes, I know the spell," Waddin said impatiently.  "What is the 
point of this questioning?"
	"First, what is the duration of the spell?"
	Waddin gave a small smile.  "Infinite.  It lasts until the 
people's revenge can be taken.  No known counters exist."
	A small cheer rose up from the crowd, but Dave ignored it, 
pressing forward where he could.  "So, in theory, everyone taken by the 
spell will fight until they die.  But what happens if the enemy 
retreats?"
	Waddin's smile faded.  "Pardon?"
	"Well," Dave laughed graciously, "you aren't kidding.  This is a 
very powerful, tactically overwhelming spell you are describing to the 
court.  An instant army of hard-to-kill animalistic fighters, who can 
sacrifice themselves to cause explosive damage to the enemies en masse.  
You can turn a group of farmers into a force to rival hardened militia 
in a matter of seconds.  Don't you believe that a smart enemy, seeing 
this take place, would not try to escape?  Retreat?  Hit the highway?  
Take off?"
	Waddin turned to his books once again, but his smile did not 
return.  "I'm not certain."
	"You WOULD retreat, though," Dave pressed.  "Wouldn't you?  
Surely, seeing such a force raised instantly, you would consider 
retreat."
	"Unless I could come up with a counter," Waddin nodded.
	"Which you just said there are none!" Dave smiled brightly.  "And 
since you are an expert in the field, I would welcome your professional 
opinion," Dave said.  "So long as it as unbiased as possible, I ask you 
what would happen if an attacker tried to retreat from the Shadow Fire 
spell?"
	Waddin looked up from his notes to Dolesbur, who was frowning a 
little more now.  "Well, I suppose that there are a few outcomes.  They 
would try to overwhelm the enemy so escape was impossible."
	"What else?" 
	"They may turn on each other," Waddin said.  "Or even allies..." 
he cleared his throat.  "But it would be extremely unlikely."
	"So, in effect," Dave said loudly, "anyone touched by this spell 
is given a death sentence."
	"That's not what I sa-"
	"With no hope of return to their previous forms," Dave continued, 
un-phased.  "And, in theory, they could harm their own friends and 
family should the enemy...suddenly disappear via a Gateway Crystal?"
	"It's," Waddin said, his voice fading, "very...very...unlikely."
	"But isn't it possible?" Dave pressed. 
	Waddin shot a pleading look to Dolesbur.  "Yes, I suppose it's 
possible."
	Dolesbur's eyes narrowed at the man, but he only spoke to Dave.  
"The Defence is advised to make their point soon, or we shall have a 
ruling without them."
	Dave nodded and bowed his head to Waddin.  "Thank you, Vizier.  I 
am done with you."
	Waddin wondered silently at Dave's choice of words.
	"Ladies and Gentlemen," Dave announced loudly over the phoenix 
rumble of the crowd, "I ask you to consider how many of you come from 
blood of that day.  How many of you were born from those who survived 
that horrible mob and the spell cast upon them.  You have a unique 
honour!  To meet someone who saved, very likely, everyone in this room 
due to his quick thinking, risk and sacrifice on that terrible day one 
thousand years ago!"
	"The audience is not on trial here," Waddin said angrily.
	"No," Dave turned to him, "but they are part of the results, and 
thus, deserve to know the whole truth."
	"And what exactly is this mysterious truth?" Waddin huffed. 
	Dave raised his hand to pause, then took a deep breath of air 
into his lungs.  Waddin felt physically threatened by the action, and 
took a defensive step backwards. 
	"The Shadow Fire spell is a death sentence," Dave said quickly, 
"designed not only to defeat an enemy, but also those passionate enough 
to die for a cause.  If the Senshi had retreated, they knew that the 
carnage wouldn't have stopped, and could have spread to the other 
innocents outside where the mob assembled.  Taking action, and risking 
the life of one of his most powerful team members, Maury Sol ordered 
Sailor Moon to use the Silver Crystal to counteract the spell.  Even 
though both knew the act could be fatal, they were faced with civilian 
genocide, and chose the path that would protect the very people who 
were attacking them.  No magic in the Negaverse could have been used to 
counter the spell, and it took the purifying power of the Senshi...your 
former enemies... to save so many lives.  The deaths caused by self-
defence in the battle leading up to the spell, and the attacks 
afterwards, were unavoidable due to the sheer magnitude of the forces 
against them.  Even so, Maury Sol's leadership shows restraint and 
compassion to this day, and most of all, regret that even the few that 
died, had to die before the Senshi could peacefully withdraw.  At both 
Jadeite and the Public's request, no further interference by the Senshi 
occurred, honouring and respecting their wishes."

	Dave took another deep breath, and found the room was silent in 
amazement.

	"Furthermore, in accordance to Negaverse Law, the Emperor may 
bestow a pardon for any criminal who shows the qualities of repentance, 
self sacrifice and great heroism in the service of the Empire.  Cited 
in such cases as the Empire VS Tang the Red, Empire VS the City of Oar-
Hin'ishik, and the Empire VS the Hollow Army.  In all such cases, 
pardons were given to all generals of the armies or forces against the 
Empire when it was shown that those enemies converted or assisted in 
the battles or crises at hand.  Maury Sol is NOT the political leader 
of the Solar System, and is, in fact, similar in status and action to a 
Negaverse General.  Therefore, the tradition of killing the offending 
leader does not apply in this trial.  This, of course, is assuming the 
Emperor agrees to such a pardon," Dave said, breathing rapidly to catch 
up to his own words.  "Emperor Sanis," he said, talking slowly now, 
"the right of Pardon can be given and rescinded by only yourself."
	Maury looked around at the crowd glaring at him.  Then, down to 
Sanis who saw the murderous looks in their eyes.  "You don't have to," 
Mo whispered.  "Not for my sake."
	Sanis smiled up at him, then turned to Dave.  "I grant the Senshi 
full pardon."
	The roar of anger was deafening.  Maury winced, but Sanis shook 
his head.  "I do not regret this.  Especially now, hearing how you 
truly saved my people that day."
	"But, I didn't order..."
	"You assisted," Sanis nodded.  "And since you are the one on 
trial, that makes you the leader of the Senshi.  That is all I need to 
know."
	"Finally, with all other charges dropped," Dave said, grinning at 
the horrified Waddin, and the seething, red-faced Dolesbur, "I hereby 
call for a mistrial!  Maury Sol not only went against Jadeite's plans 
for suicide, but saved countless innocents when he knew retreat would 
bring only further death!  Instead of saving himself and the Senshi, he 
chose to fight for Negaverse lives.  I DEMAND all charges be removed, 
this farce of a trial be dismissed, and this man walk free!"
	The old caretakers looked equal parts amazed and frightened as 
their leader raised a white crystal high into the air.  Dave's next 
deep breath was one of relief as the green glow around Maury faded.  
Both Mo and Sanis stepped free of the prisoner's circle to the 
thunderous anger of the crowd and the cries of "Objection!  Objection!" 
from Waddin that were left unheard.  
	Cheering was drowned out, but visible among the crowd and from 
the floor as well.  William and Dora were trying to hide their 
enthusiasm, but there were others brave enough to shout out their 
praise and thanks to Maury.  On the floor, Timmy rushed over to Maury 
and gave the man a huge hug.  
	"I'd like to hire you for one more job," Sanis said to Dave as 
Omega Webber shook hands with a few of the more mobile caretakers.
	Dave smiled.  "Not sure I'd be the best man for the job.  Sounds 
like they don't like me."
	"You know our system better than most," Sanis said, turning to 
Dolesbur and Waddin.  "I'll need your help to charge them of treason."
	Dave turned to the pair as they grumbled and looked disgusted.  
"I would love to."
	"Guards to the floor!" someone shouted as Yen and Sapna stepped 
forward to guard the Emperor.  
	Yen approached an extra step and leaned down slightly to reach 
the boy's ear.  "Forgive me, Emperor," he said shakily.  
	Sanis nodded.  "We will discuss this later."
	"Of course," he nodded quickly, red in the face.  
	Maury, however, was not basking in the victory.  The guards were 
having trouble at the base of the bleachers as half the crowd tried to 
rush down at once.  
	"Dave," Mo said, clearing his throat.
	Dave looked up and his smile faded just as the stone wall began 
to crumble at the insistent kicking and body-checks.  He reached 
instinctively into his coat, then turned white.  "I didn't bring them," 
he remembered.  
	"Dude, this is not the time for you to start forgetting shit," 
Maury grumbled.  
	"What did you forget, Mister Reinquest?" Timmy asked helpfully, 
checking his own robes for whatever the Omega Webber may have been 
missing.  "Did you need some gum?"
	"My Pookie," Dave said, looking at the crowd.  "It has a riot 
setting.  But..."
	Sanis stormed over to the throne, where Waddin and Dolesbur had 
also noticed the mob's actions.  Dolesbur looked pleased, but Waddin 
was rightfully worried.  
	"Calm them down," Sanis ordered.  "You've had your fun.  Now stop 
this."
	"They are not my troops to command, Emperor," Dolesbur grinned at 
the boy.  "Why don't you ask the Civil Vizier?"
	Waddin wasn't so proud to wait for the order, and quickly pulled 
a crystal from the throne to his neck.  "CITIZENS!" he shouted in his 
amplified voice.  "Please!  Calm down!  The curtains will be raised 
shortly and you may disperse then!"
	"No!  Wait!" Dave shouted as Waddin motioned for the curtains.
	Dolesbur just sat back, smirking, as the curtains slowly rose to 
show thousands and thousands of angry people outside the courtroom 
circle.  The few guards that had not been killed were at the front of 
the crowd, beaten black and blue, and bound by thick rope.  
	Two balls of light snuck through the crowd and appeared next to 
them in the form of William and Dora.  "My God...what are they 
thinking?" she whispered, turning to Dave.  
	The remaining guards inside the court circle realized the fight 
was hopeless, and finally relented so the thousand or so people could 
push their way past and come out onto the floor.  Sanis, despite his 
smaller stature, all but pushed Waddin and Dolesbur away from his 
throne and quickly activated a crystal on the arm-rest.  A green energy 
shield-bubble appeared around the middle of the room just as the mob 
reached it.  
	"How long can this shield hold?" Waddin asked quickly.
	"Aren't you glad?" Sanis said angrily at the man.  "Didn't you 
want this all along?  A revolution?"
	"N-" he paused sheepishly.  "Well, yes, but I don't want to be on 
this side!"
	Maury walked over to him, cracking his knuckles.  "Really?  Cause 
I'd be very happy to throw you over there if you'd like.  I'm sure 
they'll hail you as their hero."
	William waited patiently for Dave to turn to him.  "You didn't... 
happen to ignore my orders, did you?"
	"Actually," William glared at him, "I trusted your judgement and 
left all the weapons with the Dolphin."
	Dave cleared his throat.  "Ahh, well then."
	
	"KILL THE SENSHI!  THE EMPEROR IS A TRAITOR!  KILL THEM ALL!"

	The crowd roared against the shield, crushing the first line of 
people unlucky enough to be caught in the front.  Chunks of stone and 
wood began to pelt the bubble, creating huge fluctuations in the 
uniform energy.  
	"How long?" Waddin asked again.
	Sanis looked at the flickering crystal with a worried glare as 
one of his guards was tossed at the shield.  The body reacted violently 
with the energy and sizzled as it slid down the bubble like a gruesome 
mockery of a cartoon scene. 
	"JUSTICE!  JUSTICE!  JUSTICE!" the crowd roared.  
	"You foolish bastards," Dolesbur laughed.  "Look what you've 
done."
	"Look what YOU'VE done!" Sanis roared at the man reaching out 
with his powers and throwing him back on his ass.
	Dave stepped between them.  "Not now.  We have to think."
	"We can't just fight our way out," Maury said, arms crossed.  
"They'll get their bloodbath they've been hating me for if we do."
	"I have no intention of letting that happen!" Waddin cried, 
storming over to Maury.  "You've done enough damage here!"
	"Are you even listening to yourself?" Maury frowned.  "Or me?  I 
just told you I won't!"
	"This is all YOUR fault!" Waddin screamed, turning to Dolesbur 
who was sitting up slowly, holding his head.
	Dolesbur just laughed it off and stood back up.  "Well, now what, 
Sanis?  Shall we go out in a blaze of glory together like your Father 
would have wanted?"
	"The shield will hold," Sanis said coldly.  "We will find a way 
to calm these people, and I will have your public apology and 
resignation the moment order is restored.  Is that clear?"
	"Bah," Dolesbur said, throwing up his hands.  "When I want you to 
be vicious, you're a child!  When it is time for compassion, you rage!  
I would have killed you during first year training for being such a bad 
judge of force!"
	Waddin didn't seem willing to sit still, though.  "No!  People!  
I'm not one of them!  I tried!  Can't you see?" his voice was masked by 
the angry shouting, but he kept trying.  "My people!  There is a better 
way!  A better way for peace!  Let me lead you!"
	"He's gone crazy!" Timmy observed.  
	"Waddin, you babbling idiot!" Dolesbur roared.  "Come here and 
sit down before you hurt yourself!"
	"NO!" Waddin shouted.  "You're the one that forced us into this 
mess!  I trusted you!  I-I...I let you kill Yean!  What was I 
thinking!?!"
	Dolesbur's jaw dropped as Sanis and Maury both locked angry 
glares on the man. 
	"This is all a big mistake!  A bad dream!" Waddin continued, 
rambling.  "No!  I can fix this!  Let me out so I can talk to them!"
	Sanis frowned.  "There's no way out unless I drop the shield-"
	Waddin ran and lunged at the throne.  Maury reached out but 
grasped too late to stop the man, and Sanis was too surprised to use 
his mental powers.
	Yen and Sapna were quicker than anyone else, and Yen's dagger 
found Waddin's shoulder, hoping to anchor him and pull him down to the 
ground as he lunged also.  
	With a painful roar, Waddin forced his legs into one last jump, 
ripping the knife out of his body and sending Yen tumbling past in 
shock.  
	"STOP HIM!" Dave shouted, already dissolving into light in a vain 
attempt to reappear between the shield crystal and Waddin's hand.  
	Waddin went right through Dave's rematerializing body and ripped 
the crystal free from its base on the throne.  Dave tumbled off to the 
side, holding his chest and coughing violently.

	The mob fell through the fading shield.  

	It was almost comical.  The sea of people stumbled all at once, 
just one step.  Maury couldn't help but let out a little laugh as he 
prepared himself for the horrors to come.  
	Waddin turned around, victorious and ran back to the edge of the 
mob as people began to stand back up.  "MY PEOPLE!" he shouted 
joyfully, only to be met by a hardy punch to the face by the nearest 
man.  The Vizier stumbled back in pain, bleeding from his nose and the 
giant rip in his shoulder.  "Nob!" he gurgled.  "Mah beebol!  Bweeze!  
Lisseb tob mee!"
	The chant came from somewhere in the back as Maury helped Dora 
pull the shocked Vizier back from the front lines.  "JUSTICE!  JUSTICE!  
JUSTICE!!!"
	Maury turned to Waddin with a smirk.  "So, how does it feel to 
have an entire Empire hate you?" he asked, remembering when he was 
asked a similar question a millennium ago.
	Waddin seemed to be on the verge of mental collapse as he looked 
up at Maury.  "Bweeze..." he begged.  "Hewp me!"
	There were only a few meters between the mob and the group by the 
throne.  As the tense moment continued, the chanting grew louder and 
louder.  
	Dora and William helped Dave to his feet.  "I'm fine, I'm fine," 
Dave grumbled, still rubbing his chest. 
	"Hey, Dave," William said dryly.
	Dave sighed.  "What is it, William?"
	"It sure would be nice..."
	"Don't," Dave warned. 
	"...if we had some POOKIES RIGHT NOW!!!" William yelled.  
	Dave glared at him and weakly gave him the finger.
	Dora stepped in front of Dave and began taking off her robe.  
"Fine.  If we're going to fight, then let's fight."
	Dolesbur grinned and pulled out his pistol.  "About bloody time."
	"It's your call," Dave said weakly to Maury, who was still 
kneeling by Waddin.
	"Hewp," Waddin pleaded again.  
	Maury turned to Sanis, who looked away, unable to meet his eyes.  
"Prince Maury..." he said quietly.  "If I were to ask you of one more 
favour...please, fight with us on this day."
	Both Yen and Sapna bowed and readied their blades in each of 
their hands.  "We will defend you and the Emperor at all costs!" Sapna 
promised.  
	The law caretakers huddled together with their great tomes of 
knowledge and law, nodding their heads 'yes' as quickly as their old 
bones would allow. 

	Timmy looked terrified. 

	Maury then turned to the crowd as they began stomping their feet.  
A great roar lifted up from the floor and echoed throughout the once 
hallowed halls of justice.
	Before anyone could say another word, the crowd in front of the 
throne charged.  Maury spun to Dave.  "YOUR COAT!  NOW!"
	Dave blinked in realization, then cursed himself for not 
remembering it sooner.  "EVERYONE!" he shouted, pulling off his lab-
coat.  "IN!"
	Confused looks gave way to hope as Timmy ran at Dave and jumped 
into the folds of his coat as he threw it on the floor.  Dora was next, 
and Yen pulled Sanis into the coat before helping Sapna take the old 
men and women.  
	Maury turned into a pillar of plasma, evoking a massive scream 
from the crowd too close to the sudden heat to move back.  He backed up 
with the crowd, trying to slow them down without burning them.  All the 
while, he branched out with his arms and shot massive jets of fire 
along the edge of the mob, holding them from advance.  
	A few brave souls did manage to stumble through the fire, but 
Dolesbur happily picked them off with his pistol.  Each red beam-shot 
hit its mark and the person turned to ash a second later.  
	"NO!" Maury shouted, tossing a glob of plasma at Dolesbur's gun.  
	Dolesbur was forced to drop the weapon as it melted, and he shot 
Maury the dirty look of a kid who had just had their toy taken away.  
	"GET IN!" Mo yelled.  "NOW!"
	The white fabric was just large enough to swallow the massive man 
without stretching, and soon, it was just William, Dave and Maury left. 
	"If they destroy the coat?" William said hurriedly as the pair of 
them used their mental abilities to push back the oncoming mob that 
Maury couldn't reach from behind the throne. 
	"It's okay.  We can open another portal," Dave said.  "You get in 
so I can seal it behind us."
	"Too bad," William chuckled.  "It's a damn nice coat."
	"No time to be witty.  You've used your last bit of witty 
allowance with the Pookie comment," Dave grumbled, pushing his friend 
towards the coat as he and Maury moved back.  
	A ring of flames now protected them from the mob, but the mob was 
pushing itself through bit by bit at the expense of the people in 
front.  
	"This is horrible," Maury said as they watched someone fall 
through, burnt to a crisp. 
	"It's not your fault," Dave said angrily, pulling him back even 
as Maury cooled down from his superheated state.
	Maury turned to Dave.  "They won't stop until they have their 
revenge."
	Dave's hand tightened on Maury's shoulder.  "Don't you dare say 
that."
	"That's not what I'm saying," Mo said, shaking his head.  "But it 
might be our only option."
	Before Dave could question, Maury walked past him and jumped into 
the coat's Penguinspace pocket.  Dave followed just as the crowd rushed 
towards him.  
	"Be right back," he promised, then fell into the void.  The coat 
was ripped into shreds a second later.  











Chapter 38











	It was getting harder and harder to draw his sword with all the 
gore inside the sheath.  
	Fiss had tried to clean it out, but it had only made things worse 
when he dunked the sheath under water, mixing the dragon blood with the 
dirt and other grime inside until it became a gooey sludge.  Drying it 
out only caused the sheath to warp further where it had been damaged.  
	Of course, the easiest option was to simply keep his sword in his 
hand at all times.  It wasn't as if the blade had much time to rest 
anyway.  
	Dragons were swarming around the camp as they packed up for 
another day of travel.  Battra was drawing the last of the gate-spells 
they would be able to use before the City of SkitZ' power would warp 
the effect.  It would then be a half-a-day's walk to the shore, then a 
mad dash for freedom across the water.  Michael had promised to have 
boats ready, as the shore was his land, but Fiss knew that area would 
be surrounded by Eden's Will.  
	The Eden's Will army hadn't sent any soldiers since the House had 
left the forest, but the fact that they had anticipated the House of 
Fiss' location after one jump meant they must have at least been aware 
of the direction they were traveling.  When Beavis scouted ahead, he 
saw nothing, but to the East, he saw evidence of troop movement.  
Slowly, the two paths would converge at the Bay.  They were moving for 
a final battle.  
	Word began to circulate that Battra and Fiss were mad at each 
other.  For the sake of unity, Chris didn't tell anyone why, and Battra 
seemed just as content to keep his secrets for now.  Beavis had started 
keeping his regular nocturnal hours to ensure he could keep an eye on 
the mage's quarters while Fiss was sleeping.  Occasionally, Battra 
would make a fuss and stir in the middle of the night, simply to piss 
the little hedgehog off by reminding him he knew he was being watched 
and didn't really care.
	In fact, Battra seemed more and more pleased with the arrangement 
as the days went on.  He would smile and treat Fiss graciously, while 
Fiss couldn't bear to be around the man.  Their attitudes had been 
reversed so dramatically that one of the other Archangels had taken 
them aside to perform a mind-swap test on them to see in case some 
heinous spell had been performed on them.  
	Days were peppered with stray dragon attacks.  They were 
ferocious, but came in small numbers and hunting packs instead of the 
organized swarms of before.  These dominions were wild, wanting only 
meat and the thrill of the hunt.  Every day, no matter how fast Chris 
moved, and no matter how faithfully Battra kept to his word and used 
his magic, people died by the dozens.  Another group, this time of 
teenagers believing their wilderness prowess was sufficient, decided to 
run off into the crags and rocks.  A day later, Beavis found their 
remains amid a camp of twenty dominions that had been nesting a few 
hills away.  Their numbers now dwindled deeper into five digits, and at 
last count, Chris estimated there were only eighty thousand souls still 
with them.  Over a fifth of their House had been lost without a single 
standing battle.  
	Fiss tried in vain to create some Ni to fight for them.  
Occasionally, when he stooped to draw the two simple characters, one 
would pop up at his command, but no more.  They would always look 
confused when he asked them to make more.  
	"They need the dead," Fiss told Beavis, who was just waking up 
for the evening.  "How sick is that?  They need the dead to fuel them."
	"Certainly no lack of that here," Beavis remarked dryly as he 
shook his quills out.  "Death seems to rule this accursed place."
	Someone cleared their throat, announcing themselves at the 
entrance of Fiss' tent.  Fiss sighed.  "Yes, Famiel, I know it's you.  
Please, come in."
	The angel poked his head inside happily, then smiled.  "My Lord.  
Battra is nearly done the gate."
	"Please," Fiss sighed.  "No more 'Lord'."
	Famiel looked embarrassed, blushing to a degree that neither Fiss 
nor Beavis had seen in a human.  "I am sorry, Chris.  It is taking some 
getting used to," he said, carefully - and much too damn respectfully - 
coming into the tent and closing the opening before he knelt.  "My 
mother was very strict.  She said that manners were what separated us 
from demons and other animals."
	"You mother was very wise," Beavis remarked as he ate a few 
pellets of cat-food from Chris' pocket.  Chris chuckled, realizing the 
hedgehog had done so with his mouth full of food. 
	"I do appreciate it," Chris admitted.  "But I do not wish to rule 
like Azrael did.  Please, sit.  Don't kneel."
	Awkwardly, Famiel manoeuvred himself over his legs and sat down 
firmly on his butt.  "Thank you, sir."
	Chris had noticed a small following had developed among the 
remaining Archangels.  His use of the Casting Block had elevated him 
beyond an Arch Mage, and enhanced his Knight status to something they 
had never seen before.  He was quite certain that the bulk of the 
angels would follow him instead of Battra if the choice was demanded of 
them, but Battra had been smart in forcing a personal conflict.  When 
it was one on one, the odds became much more interesting than the 
entire City of Fiss versus a lone mage.  
	"I wish to warn you, sir," Famiel continued.  "I know your 
actions are true.  That you wish to help us.  I only wonder why you are 
at odds with the Arch Mage."
	Fiss looked up from his PDA and sighed.  "He's done nothing bad 
to the City.  Only to my friends.  I don't want to drag you into this."
	Famiel nodded, but leaned forward.  "If the Arch Mage has harmed 
your friends in any way, honour should dictate that I tell you what he 
is planning."
	"Listen," Fiss said, "I don't want to force you to choose loyal-"
	"Mirror script," Famiel interrupted.  "The Arch Mage is quite 
proficient in reflecting and re-directing any offensive spells you 
might have."
	"Why are you doing this?" Fiss asked. 
	Famiel looked confused.  "Because, you are the true Knight of 
Fiss, m'Lo- Chris."
	"Battra has been around longer," Fiss said.
	"But he does not embody the Word," Famiel smiled.  "Not like you 
do.  The Word is not spells.  It is justice and kindness and wrath all 
at once.  You will defeat him easily if it is to save your friends."
	Fiss sighed.  "I think I'm leaning too close to 'wrath' lately, 
Fam."
	Famiel smiled at the nickname and shook his head.  "You will do 
what is right.  I believe in you."
	"Should I leave you two alone?" Beavis murmured between his 
chewing of cat-chow.
	"Should I test orbital velocity with a hedgehog-sized object?" 
Chris replied.
	Beavis chose to ignore the comment.  "I'll be back in three 
hours," he said, trotting out of the tent a moment later. 
	Famiel turned back to Fiss.  "You think I'm setting you up?"
	"Pardon?" Fiss blinked.
	"That Battra has told me to tell you something of his strategy in 
order to gain the upper hand," Famiel said sadly.  "I can assure you, 
Sir, I am acting on my own."
	"That's not really the point," Chris said with a sigh.  "I 
appreciate it.  Even if it is a set-up."
	Famiel shook his head.  "I have seen Battra go against many who 
challenged his power.  Several of Azrael's lieutenants and Archangels 
fell to his power.  It is said that he was taught by God Himself!"
	Chris nodded, then looked out the tiny gap in the tent.  "Famiel, 
I appreciate your loyalty.  I really do.  It's one of the things I miss 
when I leave here.  But you can't base your entire life and career on 
me kicking a Rocksalt King in the ass.  I don't want you to think 
Battra is a bad guy.  He's probably not.  Maybe he once was, but he's 
cool now."
	"Sir," Famiel shook his head, "I was more impressed with the way 
you helped the survivors of the Rocksalt King than the beast itself," 
he said quietly.  "Azrael had the power you have, but he used it in 
such twisted ways.  Battra is born of those ways, but you are not."
	Fiss nodded.  
	"He will attack both above and below," Famiel explained with a 
smile.  "Battra knows not of flying, so he is jealous of it.  His 
spells have reach with the ground.  It is best to be direct with no 
spells he can deflect."
	Famiel stood to leave. 
	"Thank you," Fiss said with a reluctant smile.  "I appreciate 
it."
	"It is my honour," Famiel said, "to serve my Knight."
	He was gone a second before someone shouted that the last Gate 
was open.  
	"Here we go," Fiss mumbled to himself, packing up.











	"Relax, the roof is solid," SkitZ told Nathan, who was holding 
the weathervane for dear life. 
	"Why are we up here again?" Nathan said, trying not to worry that 
the shingle under his left foot felt loose.  He turned the cigarette 
down as Michael offered him it.
	Michael shrugged and lit his own cigarette with a flick of his 
fingers.  "I want to ask you about those," he said, pointing down to 
the street.  
	The Eden's Will army had been marching past them for the last 
three hours.  There had been at least thirty Aszaps with the many 
hundreds of other soldiers, but at the end of the long line of people 
and monsters was a wide cart with three cages stacked on top.  
	Three smaller cherubs were inside.  They were thin and sickly 
looking, but their masks burned with a dark red light instead of the 
bright white of the others.  
	"I didn't see them when I found the barracks," Nathan shrugged.  
"Why?  What's so special about them?"
	"Two dozen walk by looking exactly the same and you have to ask 
why a mutation concerns me?" Michael frowned.  
	"Yeah, but they just look like babies," Nathan said.
	"Would you bring a baby to fight on your side in a war?" 
	"Well, no-"
	SkitZ nodded.  "Then they aren't babies."
	They were silent until the army passed by the church.  "But you 
can handle them, right?" Nathan asked, grabbing on to Michael's arm as 
he flew them down to the ground.  
	"I'm still low on archangels," Michael said.  "You have to 
understand, it takes a century to train under most circumstances.  The 
Word doesn't control you, it guides you and gives you an outlet for 
your skill."
	"Uriel?  Doesn't she control these things?" 
	"She'll be pissed," Michael chuckled.  "Probably knows how to 
kill them just as easily as create them.  But no, she can't control 
these ones, and we can't create a counter-army in time.  Fiss and I 
could take out a few so long as they don't gang up, but neither of us 
have fought this many at once...and not with military backup."
	Nathan sighed, looking at the dust rising up from the road.  "I 
might be able to call in some back-up."
	Michael grinned.  "I was hoping you'd say that."
	"But it would cost Fiss.  A lot," Nathan said as they walked down 
the alley to where the old woman Janna was guarding the riding dominion 
SkitZ had brought for him.  
	"Who would you have to convince?" SkitZ asked.  
	"The President," Nathan explained.  "Right now, the only thing 
he'd like better than Fiss failing would be Estwish falling asleep on 
his Texas BBQ grill during a cookout."
	Janna chuckled.  "You kids.  Always thinking you gotta give away 
the world for every little favour."
	Michael sighed at his mom.  "And what would you do, mum?"
	"That's Mother," she scolded. 
	Nathan badly hid his smile as the Knight got smacked on his 
shoulder.  
	"Oh, dearest Mother," Michael grumbled.  "I implore you to share 
your wisdom.  How would you solve this ghastly riddle?"
	"Ghastly?" she smiled.  "That's a good one.  You've been 
reading."
	"No, I just watch a lot of TV," Michael replied.  "Please, mum."
	She nodded, letting the word slip by unpunished.  "Fiss is about 
to get one hundred thousand immigrants with secrets and treasures all 
their own.  Why not simply open the borders to both countries?"
	Nathan frowned.  "We can't just divide up a people to fulfil a 
favour."
	"So you'll keep them all locked up in Crystal Canada?" she 
shrugged.  "I'm certain, if the option is there, the two can bid on 
warriors and mages.  That's where most of the able soldiers are going 
to be used anyway, isn't it?  In the forces of Crystal Canada?"
	SkitZ nodded.  "It would ease the costs for Fiss, and you can 
tell your prez that you've prevented his enemy from having a monopoly 
on Eden-fresh angels."
	Nathan grinned.  He could almost see the Baxter's sly little 
smirk at hearing those words.  "But will Fiss go with it?" he asked.
	"I'll talk to him.  Buy him some Jolt," Michael said.  "He'll 
understand."  
	Nathan nodded, then paused as he moved to mount the dragon.  "You 
know...I'd bet..."
	"What?" Michael asked, helping him up on the saddle.
	"How do you think those Aszaps would handle a tank?" Nathan 
wondered out loud. 
	"Easily," SkitZ shook his head.  "Tanks are too slow.  Snipers 
would only get a few shots.  Normal body armour wouldn't do anything 
against their claws."
	"Perfect," Nathan chuckled.  "Then I know just what will get 
Baxter's attention if the promise of soldiers isn't enough."
	After hugging his mom, Michael spread his wings and took to the 
sky.  
	"Be safe, son," Janna said with a proud smile.
	"You too, mum."
	"And don't forget to script me once in a while," she scolded.  
	"I will, mum," Michael sighed, whistling to the dragon to follow 
him into the air.  
	"AND IT'S MOTHER!  NOT MUM!" she shouted, watching them disappear 
towards a darkening horizon. 










Chapter 39











	For the first time in almost two years, all earth-bound Sailor 
Senshi were assembled in one place at one time. 

	Most of the group hadn't met Sonia, and even then, not since she 
was just an assistant at the Omega Web's HQ.  "Something's happened," 
she said worriedly as she worked at the tiny screen in front of the 
Senshi.  "Dave asked us all to be present."
	Queen Serenity and King Endymion were in the middle with Hooze 
and Demeter with their children, and the other Senshi formed a circle 
around them in the tight space.  Saturn watched on with mild interest, 
but Uranus and Neptune looked bored.  Luna and Artemis sat off to the 
side, with the latter looking over at the mint-condition 'Zero Wing' 
game console in the corner, wondering if he could sneak in a game 
before they started.
	Raziel seemed more intent at playing with the dormant video-game 
console joy-sticks than the screen, and Chibi Moon seemed very quick to 
chastise the young man.  "He's stupid," she said quietly to Sailor 
Moon.
	Raziel, naturally, did not head her any acknowledgement.  He was 
busy reciting the two-hundredth digit of Pi at the time. 
	Jupiter wasn't so calm.  "What the hell is going on now?" he 
grumbled.  "Are you going to show us or not?"
	"Makoto," Rei whispered.  "Sit down."
	"No," the green-clad Senshi growled.  "She's been dicking around 
with that bloody screen for ten minutes now.  How long does it take to 
make a VCR stop blinking 'Twelve'!!?  What's the problem?"
	Raziel giggled and ran over to the screen, buzzing around Sonia 
like a little airplane.  She obviously wasn't taking the distraction 
well, and transported the little half-Zistle a few meters over to 
circle around the moon cats.  
	"Hey!" Hooze growled at Sonia as Demeter grabbed her shoulder in 
hopes of calming her down.  
	"Sorry, Miss Hooze," Sonia murmured as she continued to find the 
right frequencies.  "This is a very delicate piece of equipment."
	The screen came on a moment later, showing two young men kissing 
passionately on top of a very mussed up bed and moaning quite loudly.  
Hooze and Usagi gasped and cupped their hands over the eyes of their 
respective children.  Sonia let out a terrified squeak and quickly 
changed the video feed.  "Oh my God!  I'm sorry!" she blushed.  
	Minako grinned.  "Hey, it's okay, you can turn it back..."
	"That's IT!" Makoto growled, pushing herself off of the wall.  
"This is a waste of time.  Take me to Sol right now."
	"Mommy?" Chibi-Usagi asked, "why were those two boys kissing?"
	"I do believe they're trying to upstage us, my dear," Haruka 
chuckled, grabbing Michiru's backside.  
	"Stop it..." Michiru said quickly, but a little grin was on her 
lips.  "Not while children are present."
	"I really have no idea how that got on there!" Sonia gasped as 
Usagi glared at her. 
	"God," Artemis piped up from the back.  "Relax, it's not like 
there were any tentacles." 
	"Shhh!" Luna hushed at him.  Her cheeks were bright red as 
everyone glared at her and Artemis.  "He hasn't had any catnip today, 
he's a bit cranky."
	"I do NOT have a catnip problem!" Artemis grumbled.
	"Everyone," Rei said loudly.  "Stop it.  This is important."
	Sonia breathed a long sigh of relief when the next image that 
came up on the video screen was not soft-core gay porn.  She looked 
confused, though, as the video feed was not from Dave's PDA.
	"It's the sun," Demeter said.  "I thought they were in the 
Negaverse?"
	"Me too," Sonia said, confused. 
	The Sol Platform's main courtyard was bustling with activity.  
Thousands of Negaverse people (easily spotted in the crowd as dark-
clothed individuals) milled around with almost three times as many Sol 
people.
	Despite tense looks on everyone's faces, there didn't seem to be 
many guards or hostilities.  Everyone seemed to be gathered about a 
cleared landing pad in the center of the court.  The camera seemed to 
be held by a professional newscaster on a boom, and it swept over the 
crowd with a low hum as an elaborately decorated spacecraft came down 
from the sky and landed.
	"I don't get it," Sonia whispered.  "Dave's transmission was from 
the Negaverse.  He said he had to tell you all something important."
	"How did they get this frequency?" Rei asked. 
	"I...Dave must have given it to them.  I don't get it," she 
shrugged, moving back so everyone could see.
	The Emperor's shuttle had landed, and a great murmur washed over 
the crowd as part of the wing folded to reveal a balcony of sorts.  
Images of the balcony were suddenly being broadcast on multiple screens 
scattered among the people, and copied the image that the Senshi 
themselves were viewing.
	When Maury, Emperor Sanis, both Viziers, Dave and Timmy walked 
out onto the balcony, the reaction was extremely mixed.  Most of the 
Sol people cheered or uttered confused comments.  However, most of the 
Negaverse people seemed extremely displeased, and a small chorus of 
'Kill the Senshi!' erupted from a group closer to the craft.  
	"Those fuckers!" Makoto hissed, turning to Sonia.  "Get me there.  
Right now.  I'll shut them up myself!"
	"Even with the Omega Web's fastest ships," Sonia sighed, "it 
would take an hour at least to get there.  We should wait to see what 
they have to say."
	"Princess Jupiter," Usagi whispered.  "It's okay.  He's safe."
	Jupiter gave her a sheepish nod.  For the last several days, she 
had been lamenting at how she didn't even know if her lover was still 
alive.  "Of course," she said.
	"What are you up to, Mo?" Hooze whispered worriedly.  
	There was a strange smile on his face as he let the tiny emperor 
step in front.  
	"People the Negaverse," Sanis announced, his voice booming out 
over the entire court.  "I have several important announcements to 
make.  The first is the formal acceptance of the Sol star system into 
the Negaverse Empire."
	"WHAT!?" the Senshi all said simultaneously.
	"Furthermore," Sanis continued despite the shocked reaction 
echoing throughout the crowd, "in accordance to tradition, the regime 
of this system will be replaced by an Empire-appointed governing body."
	"WHAT!!??" the Senshi all gasped.  
	Sanis turned to Maury and nodded.  "Prince Sol would like to say 
some final words before the execution."  A great cheer rose up from the 
Negaverse crowd, while a cry of outrage came from the rest.  
	"Oh my God..." Makoto whispered, then turned to Sonia.  "Please!  
I have to get there right now!"
	Sonia was already calling the Web on her PDA.  "I can't get 
through to Dave," she said, looking at the man as he stood on the 
balcony with the others.  "He's turned off his phone.  I'm leaving a 
message."
	"YOU'RE LEAVING A FUCKING MESSAGE?" Jupiter screamed.  "He's 
going to be executed and you're leaving a MESSAGE???"
	"What would you like me to do?" Sonia shouted back.  "We're an 
hour away!  I'll call a scout craft, but it's going to take a while to 
get here!"
	"Please," Maury said on the screen.  "People...come on.  SHUT 
UP!"
	Everyone was silent.  
	Maury cleared his throat.  "Thank you.  Listen, I hate long 
goodbyes, so here's what's going on.  People of Sol, Timothy here," he 
reached over and pet the boy on the head, "has been guarding the throne 
for so long, he'll fit the seat better than I ever could, and I know 
the ladies love the tanned look.  He'll be out breaking your hearts in 
no time.  I therefore pass my leadership on to the new generation, who 
will report to the Civil Vizier to ensure this most important star 
station can provide life for the Empire and the Ten Worlds."
	A modest bit of clapping came up as Timmy bowed his head and then 
stepped back to let Dave forward.
	Dave pulled out his PDA and looked up from the tiny holographic 
screen.  "Glorious Emperor Sanis, Honoured Viziers, ladies, gentlemen 
and aliens of all races," he said.  "As head of the Omega Web, ruling 
society of the planet Earth, I hereby bow all authority to the 
Negaverse Throne.  Furthermore, in keeping with Negaverse tradition and 
the wishes of the civil classes, as of July Twentieth, Three-Thousand 
and Seven, the Omega Web will officially disband."
	"Oh my..." Sonia whispered, taking a step backwards from the 
screen.  "He did it...he's really going to do it."
	"It is our wish," Dave continued, "to usher in a new era, devoid 
of the hatred of the past.  In our absence, the Omega Web's army - the 
remaining Senshi – will become a branch of the Emperor's Honour Guard 
to serve him during the shift in power."
	"What are they doing?" Minako cried out.  "They just handed the 
entire Solar System to the Negaverse?"
	Usagi sat perfectly still, but her hands wrung her dress' front 
nervously.  "This is...very..."
	"Courage, Sailor Moon," Mamoru whispered, reaching around her 
shoulders and pulling her closer.  "I'm certain there is an explanation 
for all of this."
	She nodded quickly, relaxing somewhat at his old favourite 
phrase.  "I hope so..."
	"My last act as leader of the Omega Web," Dave announced, turning 
to Maury, "is to ensure my most faithful and trusted friend, Maury Sol, 
is permitted an honourable death."
	Rei knelt down to Hooze, who was staring at the screen, 
completely in shock.  "Is this some kind of trick?"
	"I-" Hooze whispered.  "I don't know."
	"They're taking the fall," Michiru said quietly.  "So we don't 
have to suffer when the Negaverse roll in their troops."
	Haruka let out a little humph.  "I didn't think any of you Inners 
had the guts to do anything like that."
	Jupiter's fist connected with her cheek a second later, knocking 
the older woman down with a cry of rage.  "YOU BITCH!" Makoto screamed.  
	Demeter stood and wrapped his arms around Jupiter, pulling her up 
from Uranus as she tested her jaw with a careful hand.  "That's ENOUGH!  
Both of you!" he growled.  "This is NOT the time."
	Both Uranus and Jupiter looked away from each other sheepishly.
	"Shhh!" Hooze said, waving her hand.  "Something's going on."
	Dolesbur and Waddin both walked to the front.  "On behalf of the 
Negaverse Armed Forces," Dolesbur announced gruffly, as if he wasn't 
fully satisfied with the words, "I announce a change in the Empire's 
structure.  The armies and armadas will now be commanded by the Civil 
Republic under the leadership of Vizier Waddin and the soon-to-be 
decided Head Council.  All soldiers will receive their orders and be 
asked to restate their Oath of Loyalty in the upcoming months."
	"A republic?" Demeter blinked, turning to the screen and letting 
Jupiter free.  
	"What?  What does that mean?" Chibi-Usagi asked as surprised 
faces lit up the room.  
	"It means," Luna offered helpfully, "that the Negaverse will be 
ruled by people, not the Emperor."
	Waddin now took the stage and raised his hands.  "People of the 
Negaverse, this is an exciting time for all.  We welcome, in the months 
to come, all those of outstanding character to come forth and petition 
to be included on the Head Council.  We will bring about a new era of 
fair rule and prosperity to all.  Also, a new system of voting will be 
put in place to allow representatives from all worlds to assist in the 
glorious task of building the Republic."
	A confused round of applause came up from the crowd slowly, but 
someone near the front shouted:  "What about Emperor Sanis?"
	Waddin turned to the boy-Emperor and stepped back.  Sanis took a 
step up on something so he was more visible to the crowd.  "My people," 
he said quietly, though his voice was carried to every corner of the 
Empire.  "Since before the Second Age, we have been governed by an 
Emperor, Empress, King or Queen.  Since time before, portions of our 
home world suffered under similar rule.  I say suffer, because it is 
correct to say it.  When one person rules, all others are slaves to 
their rule.
	"My Father showed me how an Emperor could be kind.  Then, he 
showed me the ruthless side and all things in between.  I, myself, have 
had my share of great and terrible moments," he explained.  "I no 
longer wish to be the cause of those moments of terror and pain.  And I 
would prefer to let those who labour and fight for the moments of joy 
to have their efforts recognized, for then we will have many, many 
more.  My..." he paused, then smiled, turning to Maury.  "My friend, 
Maury Sol, has taught me that a ruler must always be ready to make the 
ultimate sacrifice for their people.  For him, it is to end the hatred 
toward his people, and for me, it is to end the selfish rule of this 
Empire, and hand it over to the people who have always given it life.
	"It is, therefore, my decree that I shall step down and abolish 
the Throne of the Negaverse Empire for all time, and will serve as an 
advisor to the Head Council until such time as they see fit."
	This time, the slow applause picked up momentum and began to fill 
the courtyard until the deafening sound threatened to blow the tiny 
speakers of the screen the Senshi were all huddled around.  
	"Furthermore," Sanis continued as the clapping died down, "to 
promote good will between us and the newest entry into the Negaverse 
Republic, I will reside on World Eleven, the planet Earth, to ensure 
its people are treated well under this difficult transition with the 
help of the Senshi.  I will now report directly to Vizier Dolesbur and 
Vizier Waddin."
	Demeter laughed, earning startled looks from everyone.  He shook 
his head.  "Don't you see what they've done?"
	"They've killed my Maury," Makoto said, angrily.  
	Demeter's smile faded.  "I was referring to the rest of the 
world, actually." 
	"They've saved us," Usagi said, looking around at their surprised 
faces.  "Princess Neptune is right.  The Omega Web is pretending that 
they're the ruling party, and disbanding.  Power is passed from them to 
us.  Prince Sol...he's ensuring revenge does not continue to come for 
us."
	"So long as this Sanis fellow is what he seems," Rei said 
quietly, but a grateful smile was also on her face.  "There will be no 
war this way."
	Hooze stood and walked over to Jupiter, who was shaking in anger.  
"Mako..."
	"You're just going to let this happen?" Makoto glared at her.  
"Your best friend!!  You're just going to let him die?"
	Tears were welling up in Hooze's eyes as she shrugged helplessly.  
"I've never seen him like this.  He's decided this himself.  Mo knows 
what's at stake."
	"What are you going to tell your brother?" Makoto shouted.  "Look 
at you!  You're all grinning and our friend is about to die!" she 
cried.  "My Mo is about to die because of those bastards!" 
	Hooze turned away, tears flowing freely now.  Demeter came up 
behind her and held her tightly.  "If my death," he said with a lump in 
his throat, "lets even one person have life, then I would give it 
freely.  This is the mark of any leader worth their sand!  Anyone here 
would tell you the same thing!"
	Pluto, who had said nothing since the beginning of the broadcast, 
felt a sad smile creep across her face as the group nodded slowly and 
solemnly.
	"Would you rather have war?" Demeter said, voice now hedging with 
anger.  "To see us all bleeding on some battlefield?  Cities crumbling 
from weapons we can't even see?"
	"YES!" Jupiter cried angrily.  "I'd face them all myself.  Don't 
you DARE play this logical bullshit now, Zistle!  This is giving up!  
Giving up without a fight!  If there is a fight, we might be able to 
win!"
	Rei stepped between the two before another punch could be thrown.  
"Enough.  Makoto," she whispered.  "This isn't helping."
	Sonia tried not to interrupt the group, but decided it was time.  
"They're moving him," she said quietly.
	Everyone rushed back to seating and moved closer to the screen in 
various stages of crying or anger or both.  It was a long procession to 
the edge of the floating station, and it seemed to be going toward a 
massive hole in the outer walls leading to the open air of the Sun.  
	"Can Maury survive that?" Mamoru asked hopefully.  "A plunge into 
the Sun?"
	"He could just swing around afterwards," Andrea said.  "I don't 
know how close he can get without..."
	But as the group got closer to the edge, a thin black-metal tube 
was brought out by a pair of guards and they opened a human-sized hole 
in the side.
	"To honour Prince Sol's request to be returned to the star that 
gave him life and to fuel it with his power so that the Negaverse 
Worlds may live on, he will be placed in this stasis chamber and sent 
below.  He will feel no pain," Dolesbur announced with a crystal to his 
neck.  "We have also readied the monitors to ensure nothing... 
dishonourable happens during the fall."
	Even the groups that had been chanting for Maury's death earlier 
were silently appeased.  
	"What do they mean by stasis?" Jupiter murmured.  
	"He might not be able to escape," Hooze said weakly.  "Maybe if 
it dissolves he can get free, but that's a lot of heat."
	Dave walked Maury over to the capsule and handed him a long, 
white robe.  Maury donned it slowly, then walked over to Timmy, giving 
the boy a hug.  Then, to the Viziers, whose hands he shook.  Then an 
awkward shake and a warmer hug with Sanis.  Finally, he turned to Dave 
and nodded.  Dave looked as serious as a grave digger, but a small nod 
escaped him as well.  
	"Does the Prince of Sol have any last words?" Dolesbur announced, 
handing the crystal to Maury.  
	Maury took the crystal, looking at it for a moment before 
Dolesbur showed him where to place it against his throat.  "Uhm, yeah," 
he said with a loud cough.  "Oh man...you know, I just forgot what I 
was going to say.  Figures.  I spent all night thinking about it, too."
	A small, sad chuckle came from the Sol portions of the crowd, and 
Hooze echoed it.  "Moron," she whispered.
	"Well, let's see," Maury said.  "Kids:  Stay in school.  And 
listen to your parents when they tell you to do something you know is 
right.  Parents: listen to your kids.  They're not morons.  Uhm.  Don't 
drink and drive, reduce, re-use and recycle...and always tip well after 
eating sushi.
	"Hooze," he said, startling her, "take good care of that family 
of yours.  Fiss, I leave it to you to get revenge on the accordion-
busses and penguins for me.  Love you guys...I know you'll do right.  
Don't worry," he smiled to the camera.  "Makoto, I love you.  And I'll 
see you when the time is right.  Please don't cry for a little 'baka' 
like me."
	"Baka..." she whispered, indeed already in tears.
	Maury was about to give back the crystal to Dolesbur, who was 
clearly annoyed at the speech's length, when he took it back and placed 
it against his neck once more.  

	"PEACE IN THE MIDDLE EAST!  ROCK AND ROLL FOREVER!!!!" 

	The startled crowd gave a small smattering of applause as Maury 
threw up the horns and danced his way to the capsule.  Hooze was 
laughing and crying at the same time, while Makoto was just crying at 
this point.  
	He stood in the capsule and it closed.  Then, very slowly, it 
began to hover off the ground and moved closer to the edge.  Even those 
who had been shouting for Maury's death just a few short moments before 
bowed their heads as the capsule dropped down towards the Sun.  

	On the monitors, a small camera feed showed the capsule 
plummeting down.  Faster and faster.  The tremendous gravity seemed to 
compress the metal into a wrinkled slug.
	"Please," Makoto cried.  "Please escape...get out of there!"
	"He will," Minako promised, "Dave wouldn't let him die.  I'm sure 
of it."
	Rei found her old priestess training had taken hold, and was 
quietly praying while holding her friend.  
	Everyone lowered their heads, but could not look away from the 
screen as static began to fill the camera feed's eye.  Then, as the 
black metal turned white with heat, and the red, roaring surface of the 
sun was almost close enough to touch, the capsule simply vaporized.  

	Makoto was completely silent as she watched the screen fade.  











The Greatest Gift
 Chapter 40











	"Oh, unholy bitch-lord in Hell," Amon sighed as he passed Thomas 
a coffee.  "You're not going to be one of these Emo-kids around me 
every time, are you?"
	Thomas looked up from the cup and shook his head.  "Hey, it's 
been a rough week."
	"Blah de fricken' blah," Amon said, slumping down in his chair 
across from the Missionary.  "Every week is like this.  There's some 
good.  There's some bad.  I never did get what made you monkeys get 
your panties all twisted up about every little thing that happens to 
you."
	"You don't get weeks like this?"
	"I find days are much nicer when you take control of them and 
whip them into shape like a naughty little puppy," Amon shrugged, 
taking a sip of his ice-cappuccino and relishing the taste.  "On the 
rare days they continue to act unruly, I break out the stew pot.  
Cooking gets the frustration out.  Especially cooking naughty little 
puppies."
	Thomas nodded, not quite sure if he should take the demon's words 
as exaggeration or not.  Besides, Amon was right.  He had felt better 
after going to the dojo and beating up the I-beams again.  "So, I gotta 
ask," he motioned to the little coffee shop around them.  "Starbucks is 
right across the street.  Why'd we come here?"
	"Are you kidding?" Amon shivered.  "Starbucks gives me the 
creeps.  Too much evil."
	Thomas blinked.  "Really?"
	"Nah," Amon laughed.  "I'm just fuckin' with ya.  I got a 
coupon."  A smile finally cracked on Tom's face.  "There we go!  I was 
worried I'd have to start telling jokes in a second.  Lots of good 
jokes down in Hell," Amon said, sipping his drink.
	"I would have thought the opposite," Thomas remarked, pouring 
sugar into his mug. 
	"Demons," Amon advised, "have wicked senses of humour.  Don't 
ever think otherwise.  Everyone needs a laugh now and again, especially 
the so-called Damned.  That's why sin is so funny, and God is just 
pissed that we came up with better jokes than He did."
	"I believe it," Thomas chuckled.
	"Good boy," Amon nodded, leaning back in his seat.  "How are the 
others taking the good news?"
	"Good news?"
	"You're a mage now, dummy."
	Thomas cringed at the word being said out loud, and he quickly 
looked around to see if anyone else in the coffee shop had noticed.  
Amon laughed at his reaction.  "Oh, for crying out loud, it's not 
leprosy."
	"It might be," Thomas said.  "You saw how Harvey looked at the 
end there."
	"Oh no," Amon said dryly.  "What ever will you do?  I do believe 
you're doomed!  Say, how's that friend of yours...you know...the 
healing powerhouse?"
	"Fine, I get it," Thomas sighed, realizing he was probably 
overreacting anyway.  "I don't want to bug him, though."
	"He's probably stitched you up a hundred times by now," Amon 
raised an eyebrow, "and NOW you're worried about asking him to heal 
you?"
	"He doesn't know," Thomas said.
	Amon shrugged.  "Might help if they know."
	"Beast knows.  He knows everything, but I don't want to scare Ian 
after what happened to his sister."
	"Your loss," Amon said, sipping more of his frosty drink, that 
had seemed to actually get more frost on it as he held it. "Personally, 
I'd get over all that as soon as possible and start boning his older 
sister."
	"Well..."
	"Younger sister?" Amon raised both eyebrows.  "Come on, man, I'm 
a demon but she's a bit..."
	"NO!" he shouted, surprising several of the patrons in the shop.  
One shot him a 'shhh!' and Thomas sat back down sheepishly.  "Of course 
not."
	Amon grinned and seemed to take a moment to examine him.  Thomas 
suddenly felt cold, but he ignored it.  "Ahh, I see..." the demon 
mumbled into his cup.  "So that's how it begins."
	Thomas frowned when Amon said nothing afterwards.  "What do you 
mean, 'how it begins'?"
	"Oh no..." Amon said, suddenly quite serious.  "I'm not a 
prophet.  Get someone else to read you.  I was just taking a glance to 
satisfy personal curiosity."
	"What curiosity?" 
	"This," Amon said, still very serious, "isn't part of our 
business arrangement."
	"Yeah," Thomas said, frustrated.  "But...I mean, we're here, 
having a cup of coffee-"
	"Friendship?" Amon laughed suddenly.  "The reason why I'm NOT 
telling you anything is BECAUSE I don't hate your guts.  You're a good 
guy.  You don't need any more weighing you down right now."
	Thomas sighed, sitting back in his seat.  "Fine.  Can you at 
least tell me why you said that all mysteriously right after we start 
talking about little girls?  I don't turn into Michael Jackson, do I?"
	"No, that would be little boys," Amon grinned.
	"Humour," Thomas nodded dryly.  "Demons and jokes.  Right."
	"All you had to say was you were gunning for someone else," Amon 
said slyly.  "I would have dropped it.  I mean, his sister is cute and 
all, but I've seen that Miharu chick on the news.  Quite easy on the 
eyes."
	"She's my boss," Thomas said.
	"Who you're meeting later today," Amon shrugged.
	"How did you..."
	"You keep glancing at the time.  I know I don't have B.O. and the 
coffee isn't that horrible," Amon said.  "Figured it must be a woman."
	Thomas laughed.  "You're pretty quick."
	"Quick and the dead, man.  Doubly so in Pandemonium," Amon said, 
stirring his drink with the provided straw.  "But, you know, you're 
right.  I'm a bastard for teasing you like that.  Want my advice?"
	"Yeah," he nodded quickly. 
	Amon shrugged.  "Don't."
	Thomas blinked. 
	"Don't get involved with her.  Don't get attached to her.  She's 
bad for you," Amon said.  "You've got blood on your hands because of 
her, and I'm not talking about her giving you the job."
	Thomas glanced at his hands.  
	"Just..." Amon sighed, seeing his downtrodden expression.  "See?  
This is why I'm not a prophet.  Prophets have to take courses in giving 
people news they don't want to hear all the time.  There's no 'DeVry' 
course to take on prophecy, and even if there was, I wouldn't pay them 
it, that's for damn sure."
	"Sorry," Thomas nodded.  "Yeah, I know.  Just advice, right?"
	Amon nodded, though his easy smile didn't return.  "Yeah.  Just 
advice.  But it's important.  The future happens a lot sooner than you 
think, and you have a bad future if you get hung up on her."
	"It's just ice-cream," Thomas insisted. 
	"And I didn't say she'd kill you or you'd kill her or anything 
either," Amon frowned.  "I just said it's because of her.  Major bad 
mojo."
	"Don't you have any good news?" Thomas shrugged, trying to ignore 
the demon's serious look.  
	"Sure," Amon reached across the table, took his hand and 
pretended to read Thomas' palm.  "Mmm, very good news."
	"Really?" Thomas smiled.
	"Hell yes," Amon nodded, still looking serious.  "You're about 
to...wow..."
	"What?" Thomas said.  "Come on, tell me!"
	"You're going save fifteen percent on your insurance by switching 
to Geico!" Amon announced.
	Thomas glared at him.  "I hate you."
	"Get in line," Amon cackled.  

	Despite the repeated reassurances that prophecy was prophecy and 
not reality, Thomas felt a clenched fist around his stomach as he rode 
the elevator up to Miharu's apartment.  The sun was still unnaturally 
high in its summertime path, and he found himself wincing every time a 
beam of it caught his eye through the glass walls of City Hall in spite 
of the auto-darkening tint.  
	Even knowing where Amon came from and what he very obviously was, 
Thomas trusted him.  The way he spoke and talked about business.  The 
jokes interspersed with real insight.  Amon had lived a lot more than 
he had, and the experience that oozed off him was obvious.  
	He kept wondering if the 'blood' that could have been in this 
prophecy with Miharu was something else.  Maybe they would be forced to 
fight for their lives out of a tricky situation.  Or, maybe blood could 
be something far less deadly and more of a metaphor than literal.
	Amon didn't seem the type to dick around with that, though.  
Either he knew, or he had a guess and would have kept it to himself.  
Of course...maybe he was just worried if things got serious with 
Miharu, he'd lose his little mole into the organization.  That seemed 
to make just enough sense to Thomas that the fist around his insides 
finally stopped squeezing.  
	"Ass..." he chuckled to himself.  "I hate those Geico 
commercials."
	
	Now in a much better mood, he took a moment at a nearby window to 
check his reflection.  Khakis, dress shoes and a loose rumpled button-
up shirt over a tee underneath.  Respectably dressed, but casual enough 
that could switch-hit between a 'snack with the boss', and 'ice-cream 
with a pretty girl'.  
	As he walked forward, though, he heard something surprising.  
Someone was crying from down the hall.  Thomas didn't know who else was 
living on the floor, but as he got closer and closer to Miharu's 
apartment, he became sure it was her.  
	She had never cried.  Ever.  The very thought seemed alien to 
him.  So alien that he knew something must be wrong, and started 
running towards the door.  
	"Miharu?" he shouted, knocking on the door quickly.  
	No response, but he very clearly heard her crying inside.  Worry 
crept up his spine as he began to imagine what could make the woman who 
could slice him to ribbons in ten seconds flat sound like this.  The 
power to take apart the lock was so natural that he had to do a double 
take when the door popped open on its own hinges.
	The surprise dissipated when he saw the mess inside.  Broken 
glass was everywhere and things were thrown about.  Several energy-
burnt slashes marked the walls, and as he ran to the source of the 
crying, he saw her wakazashi was embedded almost to the hilt in the 
bathroom mirror.  Water was running in the sink and a cordless phone 
was still bobbing inside.  
	Following the sound and the trail of fading destruction, he felt 
awkward as he opened her bedroom door and saw her sobbing on top of a 
rumpled futon that had been kicked several times.  
	"Miharu?" he murmured, having expected her to be standing bloody 
over a dozen dead ninjas or a hideous monster's severed head.
	She looked up in surprise, eyes red from crying.  "Oh, God... 
Thomas..." she said weakly.  "I-I'm sorry, I forgot..."
	"What happened?" he asked sitting down next to her.  "Are you 
alright?"
	She nodded, rubbing her hands with her wrists in a futile attempt 
to stop the tears.  "I'm fine.  It's not me." Her lip trembled as the 
words fought their way out.  "My uncle...Uncle Mo is dead.  They killed 
him."
	"Oh no," he said as he reached over and pulled her into a 
comforting hug.  "I'm so sorry."
	Miharu shook her head, trying to stop herself from further tears 
but it was impossible.  "No, it's okay, y...I don't think you ever met 
him.  I-we should get ready.  I'm sorry.  Maybe I just need some air."
	"No," he said softly.  "It's okay." he sighed, mostly to himself 
as he gently propped her up from his shirt.  It was already soaked and 
warm with her tears.  "I should leave-"
	"Don't," she pleaded quietly.  "I-I mean, you don't have to go."
	Thomas looked at the young woman's pleading eyes.  Her mouth was 
trembling as she tried not to show how much she was hurting, but he 
felt every bit of himself tingle in need to help her.  The tiny bit of 
fist that was still squeezing his intestines gave up, realizing it was 
a lost cause anyway.  He had fallen.  Hard.
	"Sure," he nodded, letting her fall back onto his shirt to cry.  
"It's okay," he said, holding her tight as her body shook.  "I'm right 
here."











Chapter 41











	"Again, you thwart me," Marish sighed as she held her hand over 
Jesminder's stomach.
	There was no bulge, and all her cuts had been healed by the 
cherub's previous magic with her wrist.  Jess never felt so glad to 
disappoint anyone in her entire life than this woman.  "Happy to be of 
service," she whispered weakly.  "Haven't heard 'thwart' used in a real 
sentence since I was three."
	They had at least started feeding her again.  Water and a kind of 
script-fortified oatmeal twice a day.  She had been tempted to try to 
starve herself, but she knew if that was possible she would have 
already been dead from the week before.  
	"Oh," Marish said, over to the door to retrieve Jess' meal, 
"don't mistake my dull mood for your salvation.  You will still bear my 
miracle.  It will simply take longer than I expected."
	"Don't suppose you have a spare coat-hanger handy, do you?" Jess 
murmured as she raised the cup of water to her lips.  
	"I don't get the reference," Marish frowned.  "Why would one want 
to execute a coat?"
	"Maybe it doesn't match their eyes or shoes or something," she 
sighed.  
	"Ahh," Marish said, though clearly had no idea what Jess was 
talking about.  "I can see why the bull chose you, though.  You're 
strong and they thrive off of conquest."
	"And here I thought it was just my boobs."
	Marish gave off a little laugh, then shook her head.  "I have to 
play docile most of the time or become part of my own experiment.  I 
must admit, it's a trait I miss seeing in myself.  Azrael loved it as 
well."
	"Don't be so sure," Jess said.  "Maybe he was just using you.  I 
hear he did that a lot."
	She laughed the concept off flippantly, looking down at Jess with 
that same 'I'm sorry you're so inferior' way the reporter despised.  "I 
suppose you believe he could have never loved me if he loved you."
	"Never had the displeasure," Jess said hoarsely.  
	Marish looked confused.  "You've been traveling with him for the 
last few weeks and you say you've never met him?"  To her surprise, 
Jesminder began laughing.  "What?  What's so funny?"
	"It gets old really quick," Jess laughed.  "No wonder he hates it 
so much."
	"Are you quite finished?" Marish sighed, annoyed.  
	"I can't wait," Jess smiled, "to see the look on your face when 
he comes here."
	Marish raised an eyebrow.  "To save you?  I doubt it."
	"I don't care what happens to me now," Jess said, still smiling.  
"All I'm waiting for is that moment.  When you get to be reunited with 
your precious Azrael.  Oh, please...promise me I get to be there when 
it happens?  So you can show me how perfect he is for you.  That will 
surely set me straight."
	"I was planning on it," Marish said quietly.  While she tried to 
fake confidence, the look of joy on Jess' face was clearly frightening 
her.  "You've gone mad."
	Jesminder nodded, still smiling.  "Yes.  That must be it."











	They reached the edge of the crags just as the sun was setting 
over the ocean.  It still, even after so much marching and so many 
spells, seemed impossibly far away.  But they could see it and the 
tiny, pyramid-shaped mountain was now breaking over the flicker of the 
waves.  Chris had been so damn happy to see the faint glimmer of the 
City of SkitZ' power-collecting crystal that he almost jumped when he 
felt Beavis tense up and a man in a long white and black coat started 
up the hill towards them. 
	Behind them, the City of Fiss was licking its wounds from the 
horrendous passage through the dragon-laced hills.  It would be their 
last night before freedom – they hoped.  Battra sensed something was 
wrong as he helped one of the other Archangels set up the wagon, and 
walked up to where Fiss and Beavis were perched on the rock.  "What is 
it?"
	"Good evening!" the man called out from below, wearing a smile 
far too bright for the occasion.  
	"Who the hell?" Battra frowned.  "He's not part of the Word.  
What is this?"
	"Councilman Basst," Chris said coldly.
	Battra let out a little humph.  "This pitiful excuse of a man is 
the cause of all this?"
	"Now now," Basst said loudly over the wind.  "No need for 
insults.  I'm here just as a formality!"
	"What do you mean?" Chris shouted back.  
	"I know you must still believe me to be working for Eden's Will," 
Battra said quickly, shooting the councilman a dark smirk.  "Shall I 
prove my loyalty by turning him into salt, my Lord?"
	Chris had to fight himself not to say "fuck yes."
	"I'm afraid that wouldn't be very good," Basst shouted.  "You 
see, the continued welfare of the remaining...and weakened...Houses of 
Eden hang in the balance of how well they respect our wishes, and 
naturally, I do not wish my own death.  I am to return and report back 
after you attempt to reach the City of SkitZ to ensure none of 
Michael's house aids yours on open ground."
	Beavis turned to Fiss.  "We can't kill him...but can I at least 
poop on his head?"
	"I regret we must be enemies," Battra chuckled at the hedgehog. 
	"I do not regret to inform you I will also poop on your head," 
Beavis told the arch mage.  "And very likely will make sure your grave 
is well used as my toilet after Christopher is done with you."
	"Not now," Chris mumbled, then turned back to Basst.  "Michael 
knows the treaty.  Don't you worry about him or us.  Now get the hell 
out of our sight unless you brought supplies for my people."
	Basst laughed and began climbing up the rocky hill.  "I doubt 
they would take any charity from me at the moment, and I'm afraid I 
have nothing to spare.  My own army needs food to march."
	"Salt," Battra mentioned to Fiss.  "I'm certain we could use him 
to salt the last two dominion corpses.  Keep them fresh.  Add a little 
taste."
	"A little help?" Basst said smugly, reaching for Fiss' hand to 
help him up to the plateau.
	"Allow me," Battra said, reaching past Fiss and grabbing the 
man's hand.
	Fiss jumped back in surprise when Battra's arm lit up with a dark 
red light, and it lashed out and pulled Councilman Basst up as if he 
weighted nothing.  "What are you doing?" 
	Basst howled in pain as Battra's hand stayed linked with his, and 
his feet had yet to touch the ground.  Power coursed through his body 
and made him float.  
	"STOP IT!" Chris demanded, drawing his sword. 
	Battra laughed and let the man go.  Basst stumbled to the ground 
looking confused and frightened, but otherwise unharmed.  Only a small 
red spot on his hand remained.  "What did you just do to me?!" he 
gasped.  "You bastard mage!  WHAT DID YOU-"
	"Oh, shut up," Battra grumbled, turning to Fiss.  "Our 
arrangement is at hand."
	"What?" Fiss kept his sword ready.  "Now?"
	"No, you idiot," Battra sighed.  "I still need you to help fight 
our way through to the coast." His eyes narrowed.  "But, if you don't 
die in the fight, then you and I may exchange our words.  And he..." 
Battra pointed to the spot on Basst's hand, "will fulfil my end of the 
bargain should your sword be quicker than my tongue."
	Chris slowly slid the blade back into its sheath.  "Cute."
	"Upon my death," Battra continued, "this man's skin will reveal a 
Theban map, including the ward-counters to Marish' little castle out on 
the ocean.  Clear?"
	"I say we kill him now," Beavis grinned happily.
	Battra just grinned back.  "Of course he wouldn't.  He knows he 
needs me to fight as well.  And if I should die...well, then all you 
need to do is find this man at the end of it all anyway."
	"Very kind of you," Fiss nodded his head slightly. 
	Battra turned to Basst, whose confused look hadn't gone away.  
"Also, if I learn you are sabotaging our camp during your... 
observation...I can kill you at thought.  Do not forget that as you 
fulfill your elected promises."
	Shaken, but calm slowly returning, Basst nodded.  "Of course.  I 
wouldn't dream of interfering with Knight business."
	
	Fiss and Battra both walked past Basst and into their camp.  It 
would be a long night.  

	Beavis, however, took a moment to hover over Basst's head.  
"Hey!" Basst shouted, narrowly dodging a sudden rain of excrement.  
	"I'm not done yet," Beavis grinned at the man.  "You have my 
solemn vow...I shall poop on your head by dawn.  Sleep well."  

	Fiss trudged back to his tent slowly, walking through some of the 
city as he went.  Everyone looked so exhausted and starved.  Hell, he 
hadn't eaten all day; just thinking about food made him dizzy.  Jess 
would yell at him.  He hadn't even tried looking for any Cookers. 
	As he reached his tent, he heard his PDA ringing.  He jumped 
through the door to answer it and got it just as he heard someone about 
to hang up.  "Fiss here," he said. 
	"Hey, bro," Hooze said warmly.  "Long time no speak."
	Chris laughed and collapsed gladly on his sleeping bag.  "Hey 
sis, how's it going?  Country explode yet?"
	She paused.  "It's been a...bad week."
	"I hear you," Fiss sighed.  "What's been happening?"
	Hooze gritted her teeth, realizing that the news of Maury's death 
was probably not the best thing for him to hear at the moment.  "Oh, 
not too much.  Everyone's a little nervous with the US Army here."
	"What??" Chris gasped, sitting up.  
	Hooze was surprised.  "You mean, he didn't tell you?  Nathan 
called in some backup."
	Chris' eyes widened.  "Nathan?  Nathan who's been missing for the 
last two weeks??"
	"Yeah," Hooze laughed.  "He just arrived at the City of SkitZ 
like...maybe three hours ago, and he made some calls.  Apparently, 
there's a big battle coming your way, so he called in a favour to the 
President to get some artillery sent out.  We don't have much to spare 
ourselves, but we might be able to push through some helicopters."
	"Is Jess with him?" he asked. 
	"No," she said.  "Mentioned we'd be going to get her next.  I 
think he's probably been trying to call you, but your PDA's been out of 
range."
	"This," Chris said excitedly, "is the best damn news I've heard 
in a long time, Hooze.  Thank you."
	"Did you want me to come by?" Hooze asked.  "If the shit is about 
to hit the fan, I can ask Serenity as well."
	"We're on speaking terms again?"
	"Yeah," Hooze said.  "A lot has happened.  Maury-" she stopped 
herself.  "Maury says Hi.  Wants you to go on an accordion-bus-hunt 
with him later."
	"I can't wait," Fiss sighed happily.  "Yeah.  Any help we can get 
would be awesome.  If we can just hold a line, we have at least seventy 
thousand coming your way."
	"I thought it was one hundred?"
	Chris cleared his throat.  "It's been a difficult trip."
	"Oh," Hooze said quickly.  "Yeah.  Of course.  I don't think any 
of the others will have a problem helping.  I'll let Miharu know as 
well."
	They were silent for a moment.  "You alright, Hoozie?" Chris 
asked.  "You sound a bit off."
	"Jetlag," Hooze lied.  "Don't worry, though.  We'll be there with 
the army guys in the morning."
	"You rock," Chris said, though he found himself frowning.  "Take 
care of yourself, Hooze.  Give everyone hugs from me, okay?"
	"Yeah," she said quickly.  "Love ya, bro."
	"Love ya."
	"G'night."
	The PDA went silent.  











Chapter 42











	Crystal Tokyo had nearly eighteen thousand bars.  This wasn't 
including the sushi bars that served sake, nor the Mahjong parlours who 
hosted the shadier night elements of the underground during those 
quiet, terrifying hours just before most normal people woke up to go to 
work.  Tea houses and restaurants with liquor licences would have 
placed this number into the low hundred K of establishments.  It was 
quite the cornucopia of variety. 
	Minako walked down the street, trying not to let nervousness show 
as she passed the occasional leer or drunken glance.  Her confidence 
was heightened by the four cat-paws quietly padding behind her. 
	"Are you sure it's down here?" Artemis whispered, speeding up to 
her side when an old homeless guy reached out to pet him.  
	She nodded wordlessly.  Of those eighteen thousand bars, most of 
them had a karaoke machine.  Makoto hated karaoke.  Furthermore, only a 
few seated less than three hundred people.  She hated drinking in 
crowds.  
	In fact, within stumbling distance of the Crystal Palace, there 
were only two bars that fit Makoto's preference, and one of them had 
been Maury's favourite due to the stuffed alligator above the door 
inside.  
	A bored looking man checked her ID, looked down at Artemis, and 
sighed, shrugging and letting them both inside the smoky, dim room.  A 
pair of grungy old pool tables sat off to the side, unused for many 
months, and it looked like the place was shutting down.  
	Sure enough, Sailor Jupiter was slumped at a table in the back 
next to the bar.  Several glass bottles were littered around her, with 
one in her hand almost finished.  Her head was lying against the table 
and she looked very pale.  
	"They got rid of the alligator," she mumbled against the table as 
Minako pulled up a seat.  "I thought I was in the wrong place for a 
moment.  Isn't that weird?"
	Artemis let out a little cough, though he tried to stop himself, 
not wanting to interrupt.  
	"Want a drink?" Makoto asked.  "Yo, Jin," she said to the 
bartender.
	A timid looking man walked over to Minako.  "What can I get you, 
Miss?"
	"I need a beer," Artemis mumbled. 
	"Three ice waters, please," Mina replied politely. "And a small 
bowl for my cat."
	"And a double Jack and Coke, Jin," Makoto said, pulling herself 
back up to a semi-sitting position.
	Jin reluctantly nodded and hurried back to the bar to fix the 
drinks.  
	"Arty," Makoto smiled at the cat, "you'll have a drink with me, 
right?"
	Artemis smiled back, feeling the wrathful look coming from 
Minako.  "Maybe later.  I have to drive tonight."
	"Oh, okay," she giggled, turning to Minako.  "You have a smart 
cat."
	Jin returned with their water as Makoto finished off what seemed 
to be her fifth extremely tall beer bottle.  Thankfully, she seemed to 
have forgotten about the Jack and Coke and took a long sip.  
	"I'm sorry," Minako sighed finally.  "Dave still hasn't answered 
his phone."
	"Ain't no reason to talk to him right now," Makoto said darkly.  
"He woulda' called anyway.  Let us know if it was a truck.  Tr-uck... 
trick.  To many of those fuckers watching.  Would seen something."
	Minako nodded quietly as she poured Artemis' water into the bowl 
in front of him.  "He did a noble thing."
	"Yeah, that's what everyone sez," the darker-haired woman 
muttered, slamming back her water, then sputtering when she realized it 
wasn't alcoholic.  "Hey, Jin, can I grab a Jack and Coke?"
	Realizing it would be futile to resist, he nodded and came over a 
moment later with the actual drink.  Before he turned around, she had 
downed half the tall glass and breathed out a powerful fog of booze 
that Artemis dodged by placing his head lower in the bowl.  
	"Why are you doing this?" Mina sighed, pulling the drink away 
from her friend.  
	A spark flashed along the metal rim of the table when Makoto 
gripped it.  "Get your own."
	"Minako..." Artemis said anxiously as his fur began to stand on 
end. 
	"No," Minako said stubbornly.  "I know it's hard, but this isn't 
going to help."
	"Really?" Makoto growled.  "Coulda fooled me.  I feel frucking 
awesome now.  Like nothing never happened.  Givvit here."
	"You can't even swear straight!" 
	Makoto glared at her, then turned back to Jin.  "Hey, Jin, this 
drunk chick just stole my drink.  Can I grab another?"
	"No," Mina said before the man could respond.  "No more.  You 
need to come back to the palace and get a good night's sleep."
	"Hey!" Makoto laughed, standing up suddenly and knocking over 
three of the bottles on the table.  "Great idea!  Gotta be nice and 
fresh to meet our new Emperor, don't we?  Man, am I stupid." 
	Minako tried to get up in time to stop her friend, but Makoto 
just shouldered her out of the way.  The poor blonde fell over her 
chair painfully.  
	"She'll grab the tab, Jin," Makoto said from the door, slamming 
it behind herself.  
	Mina picked herself up painfully, holding her head.  "I've never 
seen her like this..." she said.
	"She's never lost anyone," Artemis whispered back. 
	They were about to run after, when Jin timidly cleared his 
throat.  "Uhm..."
	With a sigh, Mina walked over to the counter and paid for the 
bill (Jack and Coke was HOW much?), and by the time they got outside, 
Makoto was nowhere to be seen.  

	She had made it a few blocks before the dizzy effect was too 
much.  Leaving a puddle of vomit behind her in the alley, Makoto 
decided to set a calmer pace.  It was hard to see with her eyes 
flooding like they were anyway.  
	"Stupid Venus," she mumbled to herself.  "Oh, let's just call up 
my boyfriend and ask if yours is dead, shall we?  Yeah, real great 
fucking help."
	There were only two feelings now: anger and numbness.  The 
numbness was winning, and she was glad.  She knew Venus hadn't meant 
anything by it.  Didn't make it hurt any less, though.  
	Every time she closed her eyes, she could see that damn coffin 
he'd jumped into vaporizing.  How sure he had been of what he was 
doing.  He had told her not to cry.  It was so hard watching that 
moment again and again in her mind, superimposed with his voice telling 
her not to cry.  Most often, the opposite happened. 
	After crying all day...wow.  She had only done that one other 
time after breaking up with her old boyfriend.  Crap.  What was his 
name?  She laughed out loud as she stumbled down the street, realizing 
that she honestly couldn't remember a time without Maury.  It had 
gotten too depressing.  
	Everyone was there to comfort her.  All day.  And all day she 
cried because of Usagi's crushed look.  Rei's strong-and-understanding 
eyes.  Ami's shocked and sympathetic looks.  Most of all, though, it 
had been the way Minako peered at her.  As if it was somehow her fault 
because she was with the man who had helped Maury into that pod.
	And as much as she wanted...NEEDED...to blame someone, she 
couldn't.  Not even those Negaverse pricks.  Maury could have wiped 
them all out as they stood, gawking like hillbillies at a monster-truck 
show when they turned into plasma.  Maury chose this.  He wanted peace.  
So badly that he left her behind.  Left them all behind in that peace.  
	Makoto wanted to yell at Mina.  Tell her to leave her man alone 
for a bit.  That he was probably going through enough.  Mo and Dave had 
been friends.  Even if not the closest, surely they went through a lot 
up there on Sol.
	Strange thoughts had been coming to her all day.  The first had 
been a bit of pride at Uranus' comments.  She had flipped out and 
levelled the bitch for them...but they suddenly held so much more 
significance now.  She had been right.  Mo took all that bad and let 
them all be free of it.  They were free because he wanted it.  After 
the third beer, Makoto called up Haruka and apologized.  She was 
surprised to hear sadness in the woman's normally stoic voice.	
	"You'll never take anything for granted again," she had told 
Jupiter.
	It had been the best comment she had received all day.  As if, 
somehow, it was right to feel so different.  It was natural, without 
the bullshit lines about 'oh, it will all be okay' and 'healing' and 
'blah blah blah'.  
	Numbness had replaced confusion, but the anger remained.  Anger 
towards herself.  Towards Maury.  Then, more anger as she realized she 
shouldn't blame him for saving all their asses.
	Rei had offered to come out with her tonight.  Down some drinks.  
Ami offered as well.  The two had gotten a lot of shit straightened out 
over a bottle of scotch a while back, and it was tempting to join them, 
except for the fact that she couldn't stand to be around anyone right 
now.  
	Just sitting alone, trying to drown in booze had been bad enough.  
She kept on imagining Mo with her.  Laughing and joking and betting he 
could get drunk faster than she could. 
	She had tried to be strong about it.  Stiff upper lip and all 
that crap.  A load of crap.  That's all it was.  And now, it just hurt 
more because she knew why she missed him. 

	They had been so ridiculously perfect together.  

	Somehow.  Everything they did just felt right.  Like peanut 
butter and baloney, as he used to say.  Sounds strange, but tastes so 
perfect.  That was them.  Their lives together.  Their love.  Their 
trust.  Even when he told her that he needed to go to Sol, she had been 
so happy for him.  She never thought for a second that he wouldn't come 
back.   
	Even the way he died...doing the job they both loved to do...it 
was him.  So very 'him'.  So damn them all.  Yeah.  There was the duty 
to save the princess.  Protect the innocent.  But they had both had so 
much FUN doing it.  She always imagined they'd go out together in some 
cataclysmic last stand.
	They would be gone, and all their insanely cute babies would 
mourn them and have a big party with lots of beer and food and 
strippers in their honour.  Was that such a big thing to ask for?  Most 
people asked for millions of dollars and all this bullshit they didn't 
need.  They only needed each other.
	Realizing that the feeling wasn't going to go away with drink, 
she decided to continue walking as she got to the other decent bar in 
the area.  It was almost closing anyway, and the cops were there about 
a fight.  Hardly the peace and quiet she wanted.  Finding home was easy 
enough.  She just turned until she saw the massive crystal tower 
looming over the skyline and started walking towards it.  Eventually 
the paths would all converge there.  
	As she walked she saw other people walking in the warm night air.  
Enjoying the starlight.  The cool breeze that interrupted the scattered 
bit of traffic here and there.  At first, she thought she'd be 
uncomfortable.  Seeing the world continue on even though she had felt 
like it had just ended.  Instead, she found it comforting to the point 
that there was almost a smile on her lips.
	These people would never know of her lover, who had just saved 
them from intergalactic war.  Maybe even slavery, or worse.  Even when 
the press releases came out...if they thought Earth was ready for the 
truth...it would be old news.  A past thing.  Another name to add to 
the text books for kids in school.  Another name to learn for a test, 
and another name to make out with their boyfriends instead of learning 
during a late night study session.  The only thing that hurt her still 
was knowing that her name was not with his.  Maury had done it.  Gone 
out in a blaze of glory for the good of all the universe.  How was she 
going to top that?  She laughed as she thought about it.  "You 
bastard," she whispered up into the night sky.  "Try to top me, huh?  
I'll show you."
	Sleep was finally creeping up on her brain as she walked up to 
the Palace around three in the morning, and she just barely registered 
Sailor Pluto as she walked with her to the elevators.  
	"Are you okay?" Pluto asked.  
	Jupiter nodded tiredly.  "Don't wake me until noon and I'll be 
fine."
	"I wasn't asking about that," Setsuna smiled at her softly.  "Are 
you doing okay?"
	She wanted to grumble and yell and scream at the latest version 
of that question she had heard that day, but coming from Pluto...it 
seemed honest and right for her to ask.  
	"Thank you," Makoto nodded.  "Yeah, I think I'm doing okay."
	Pluto nodded, then busied herself by looking at her reflection in 
the mirrored walls of the elevator car.  
	"You probably have gone through this a lot, haven't you?" Makoto 
asked quietly. 
	"Unfortunately," the older Senshi nodded.
	"Any advice?" Makoto asked, wondering why Pluto hadn't already 
given some.  Maybe that's why she was asking.  Pluto seemed to 
understand what was going through her head.  "I mean...if you-"
	"Not really," Setsuna sighed, turning to her.  "You've heard it 
all from the others, I'm sure."
	"Have I?" Makoto laughed, rolling her eyes.  "Yeah, I guess I 
have."  She thought back to what Uranus had told her, though.  "But...I 
wanted to ask you something."
	"Of course," Setsuna bowed her head.
	"Did...I mean, did Sailor Uranus ever lose anyone?"
	Pluto paused before answering, as if she had to think about it.  
"She did.  Almost, anyway.  It was...well, it was a bit complicated."
	"She told me that I'll never take anything for granted again," 
Jupiter explained.  "For some reason, it made the most sense.  I just 
wanted to thank her, but I wasn't sure if I should if it was going to 
bring up bad memories."
	A soft, kind smile fell on Pluto's face and she nodded, reaching 
over to the emergency stop button.  "You must promise me you'll never 
tell anyone."
	Jupiter nodded and the elevator came to a quick stop.  Pluto 
picked up the phone and told the security desk not to worry, then hung 
it up.  
	"She did lose someone, and her own life as well," Pluto explained 
quietly.  "Long time ago.  Before they started looking for the 
Talismans.  They were training and had started fighting the first of 
the daimon eggs that had begun to show up."
	"How come I never heard of this before?" Jupiter asked.
	Pluto shook her head.  "It was before the two groups met up.  I 
had told them of Sailor Moon, but they didn't want to pursue her, 
thinking you all to be too weak.  I had asked them to investigate a 
particularly dangerous daimon that had inhabited a gasoline truck to 
see how they could handle taking down a foe without too much collateral 
damage."
	"A gas truck?" she laughed.
	"They asked me to push them to the limits," Pluto shook her head, 
as if still chastising herself for the assignment.  "They were doing 
well, but I hadn't expected the daimon to self-destruct.  They were 
both caught in the blast.  Nearly vaporized."
	"Oh..." Makoto gasped, smile fading.  "Then...how did..."
	"I broke the rules," Pluto explained quietly.  "Rewound time a 
few seconds and was able to pull them away.  Keeping the steady flow of 
time is the most sacred rule the holder of the Key of Time must obey, 
but I knew how important it was to have them both fulfill their 
destinies.  I didn't know what else to do."
	"You can do that?" Jupiter asked hopefully.  "Then, maybe, Maury 
could-"
	"NO!" Pluto shouted at her, then looked startled by her own 
voice.  "No.  Please, you have to understand...that was only three 
seconds.  If I were to go back and save Maury, it would very likely..." 
her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath.  "As a rule, I only 
have five seconds to use every few hundred years.  I've spent another 
two last year for Queen Serenity," she said.  "Her daughter would have 
died if I had not.  But I cannot bring people back from the past.  
Nobody can, and I have strictly forbidden my sister from ever 
attempting.  Otherwise, I would have had no doubt she would have 
attempted such a foolish-"
	"I'm sorry," Jupiter said, feeling her cheeks red.  "I was just 
being stupid."
	"It's okay," Setsuna said, tone soft again.  "I would have gladly 
used those three seconds if it would have saved him."
	Jupiter smiled sadly at her.  "Thank you.  That means a lot."
	"It's my most closely guarded secret," Pluto said.  "Only you, 
Serenity, Andrea, Uranus and Neptune know.  After I told them what 
happened, they looked haunted by it, and I was glad."
	"Glad?"
	Setsuna nodded and let out a long, grateful breath as she 
remembered the moment.  "I was worried they would think themselves 
invincible after I did it, but it resulted in the opposite.  They 
realized they were mortal, and they realized what they were willing to 
sacrifice as part of their mission and their destiny.  They fought for 
every moment after that, knowing that they had to appreciate their time 
together and alive.  That way, when the inevitable happened, they would 
have no regrets."
	Makoto nodded as Pluto released the emergency stop and the lift 
began moving again.  "Maury knew what he was doing," she said quietly.  
"He didn't have any regrets.  I could see it in his eyes."
	Pluto smiled and nodded.  "I saw that as well."
	The doors opened and Jupiter stepped out.  "Thank you," she said.  
	"My door is always open, Princess Jupiter," Setsuna replied, 
bowing her head. 
	The fresh air and long talk with Pluto had helped, and when she 
stepped into her apartment, she felt sober and optimistic.  It still 
took a measure of control, however, not to kill whoever was on the 
other side of the door, knocking as she kicked off her shoes and headed 
for bed. 
	"It's four in the morning!" she called back the nicest tone she 
could muster.
	"Makoto," Usagi said from the other side.  "It's me."
	Makoto sighed and spun around to let Usagi in.  "Sorry."
	"Don't be," she smiled softly.  Her eyes were red as well from 
tears.  "I wanted to let you know, Sailor Hooze sent a message asking 
for volunteers.  Strike Fiss is in a bind over there in Eden.  Needs 
some help holding back some bad people.  I would have told her you were 
on leave for the week, but..."
	"Yes," Makoto said.  "Whatever it is, I'll do it."
	Usagi wasn't terribly surprised, but still looked her friend 
over.  "I can ask you again tomorrow.  It wouldn't be until the evening 
anyway, and we can use the door downstairs to jump through to the City 
of SkitZ."
	Jupiter nodded, then gave her friend a warm hug.  "I need to go.  
I know I'm supposed to be taking some time off, but I need to keep 
busy.  It's my job."
	"But are you going to be okay?" Usagi asked carefully, looking at 
Makoto's reaction.  "Chris doesn't know yet."
	"All the more reason I should be there," Makoto said, then took a 
step back to bow formally.  "Princess Jupiter, requesting to be 
considered for this assignment, my Queen."
	Usagi smiled and nodded.  "Of course.  I believe Minako wanted to 
join as well, and I still need to ask around.  Rei, Ami and Mamoru will 
handle the third district raid tomorrow."
	"Very good," Makoto said.  "Ami has my mission briefing.  They'll 
be fine."
	Finally, Usagi stepped forward and hugged Makoto again.  "I 
didn't want to lose anyone," she cried suddenly.  "You're all such 
wonderful friends."
	Makoto sighed to herself, then smiled at the familiar act of 
comforting the scared little Usagi once more.  "It's okay.  It will 
happen once in a while.  That's what makes it so important to enjoy 
right now."
	Usagi sniffed and wiped her eyes, surprised by the bit of wisdom.  
	"I've been talking to Miss Pluto again," Makoto admitted. 
	"Ahh," Usagi smiled, eyes bright.  "I should let you sleep."
	She was too tired to argue.  "Thank you, Usagi."
	"Good night!" the Queen said, then ran back off down the hall to 
be with her family. 
	Makoto shut the door behind her and sighed.  She would have to 
apologize to Mina tomorrow.  It almost seemed scarier than knowing 
Maury was gone.  
	"Goodnight, Maury," she whispered to the air around her, walking 
to her bedroom.  "See ya around."











Chapter 43










	Chris awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs.  A very concerning 
smell, as Eden had no pigs.  Or did it?  And it certainly did not have 
instant coffee, which was now very evident on the wind floating through 
his tent.  
	He poked his head out of the tent carefully, and nearly fell over 
as he saw Nathan sitting nearby, cooking up some breakfast on a 
portable propane grill with four people in army fatigues with machine 
guns strapped to their backs.  
	"Chris!" Nathan shouted.  "Get your ass up already!  It's time to 
move out in an hour!"
	"Holy shit!" Chris gasped, falling out of his tent.  "I'm not 
dreaming?  Nathan?  When did you get here?"
	"I hope this means you don't dream of me often, Sir," Nathan 
chuckled, helping Chris up and handing him a plate.  
	Chris washed up quickly with a bit of script, then let himself be 
treated to an army breakfast before Nathan took him off to the side.  
He could see ten more breakfast tents in the sea of people.  Laughing 
and happy people could be heard for the first time in days.
	"We have to talk," Nathan said. 
	"First thing's first," Chris said.  "Are you okay?"
	"Fine, barely," he chuckled.  "A couple moments there, I thought 
I was a goner.  Apparently, I owe my life to some guys named Joe and 
Sam."
	"Sam?" Chris blinked, then shook his head.  "Never mind.  What 
happened?"
	"Marish," Nathan said with a sigh.  "She captured us somehow.  
Just suddenly woke up and we were in this base of hers.  Jess and 
Tambre were tied up elsewhere.  Could hear them being tortured or 
something."
	Chris looked pale.  
	"I don't know who did it," Nathan said.  "But I know it wasn't 
Tambre-" he paused.  "Fiss, Tambre's dead."
	"It was Battra," Fiss said darkly.  "Him and I are going to go at 
it after this is done."
	"How?" Nathan asked, looking guilty.
	Chris raised an eyebrow.  "Anyone who was an 'outsider' was to be 
sent to a modified course on the gate spell.  I didn't notice it 
because it wasn't in Theban.  But Beavis got through just fine."
	"Are demons outsiders?"
	Chris nodded.  "I think so."
	"Ahh, shit..." Nathan said.  "I think it was our own damn fault.  
We were snooping around Tambre's backpack and got covered by this shit 
we thought was part of some kind of demon or something.  Battra gave 
them to Tambre to slow down the cherub in her stomach.  He's a good 
guy."
	"Not quite," Chris sighed.  "He used to work with Marish.  
Figured Tambre was her property."
	"I'll kill him," Nathan said, dropping his plate.  "Where is he?"
	"We need him," Chris frowned.  "Trust me, he'd be dead by now 
otherwise."
	Nathan sat back down, realizing Fiss was right.  "Okay.  Second, 
Jess is okay, but I honestly don't know how long she'll last.  All she 
needs to do is piss off that bitch enough, and Jess is really good at 
that."
	Chris found himself smiling.  "Yeah."
	"Also, you need to let these people have a choice," Nathan said, 
pointing to the crowd.
	"Pardon?"
	"Or," Beavis interrupted, eating Nathan's leftovers as they had 
dropped on the ground, "they have to pull back their army."
	Chris looked past Nathan and saw a series of nearly one hundred 
large metal things crouched down in three rows.  They had pointy bits 
and guns, and were painted a surprisingly accurate grass-and-sand 
colour to assist with camouflage.  
	"By order of the President of the United States," Nathan said in 
an official tone, "we will offer military assistance to Crystal 
Canada's campaign in Eden, provided that immigration from Eden is open 
to both countries."
	Chris shrugged.  "Uhm...sure."
	"I knew you'd see reason," Nathan chuckled.
	"I was going to offer safe passage to anyone, you know," Fiss 
said, suddenly feeling a bit guilty.  "Including to the States."
	"Yeah, but the President didn't know that, and he's not nearly as 
nice as you are," Nathan laughed.  "He suspected you would have kept 
all the magic and angels for your own."
	"I notice the 'free food' tents have the American flag on them," 
Chris chuckled.  "And the plates.  And the forks."
	"And every single one of them gets a business card directing them 
to the immigration office," Nathan smiled.
	"Too bad they can't read English."
	"Yeah, well," Nathan cleared his throat and leaned forward.  "Our 
new Secretary of Defence is a bit of a...well..."
	"Retard?"
	"Very much so," Nathan smiled.  "Don't hoard them all, okay?  
Just explain the Canadian Winter to these poor people, and I'm sure a 
few will come down south."
	"Deal," Chris laughed.
	"Hell," Beavis commented as he licked up the last bit of eggs on 
his plate, "feed me like this, and I'll come down and work for you 
guys.  I only get cat-food."
	"You LIKE cat-food!" Fiss frowned.
	"YOU think I like cat-food!" Beavis retorted.  "I have to sneak 
around to the kitchens to get some decent chicken cordon-bleu!  I want 
to renegotiate my contract."
	Chris smiled nervously.  "We'll talk about this later."
	"We should talk, Beavis," Nathan grinned.  "Would you be 
interested in a vehicle allowance?"
	"He can fly!" Chris protested.
	"Yes," Beavis grumbled.  "A car and chauffeur would be 
wonderful."
	
	Despite the late start in the day, the addition of a hearty meal 
and high spirits had sped their pace to double what it had been the 
last week.  They would easily reach the shore and the City by evening 
at the current rate.
	The line tanks followed the crowd, flags displayed proudly, and 
weapons scanning the sky as well as the land.  It wasn't long until 
they saw the approaching Eden's Will forces through gaps in the huge 
forest of Mourning Oaks that had been left in the wake of Revelations.  
It was the forest that made the encounter manageable, as nobody seemed 
willing to walk between those hallowed trees.
	"Bloody superstitious," Basst mumbled as he rode a small lizard-
thing to keep up to the front carts.  
	"Do you even know what those are, you blind frump?" Battra asked 
angrily.  "Mourning Oaks!  Those are gravestones!  Each one of them 
touched by the Word.  Every root you tread on, every branch your pack 
breaks as you walk by, and every breath you take from those trees 
without thanks will have your disrespect returned a thousand fold by 
the Word Itself."
	"Unless they're registered as a graveyard," Basst shouted back, 
"they are nothing but pretty trees, and an army should not be scared of 
pretty trees."
	"Then, by all means," Battra frowned.  "Send them through."
	"We've tried," Basst muttered quietly, returning his attentions 
to the path.  "The cherubs won't go, and the troops say they hear 
voices.  Won't go in more than three steps."
	"Smart troops," Battra said darkly.
	"Thank you," Basst smiled brightly.  "And cheap, for the most 
part.  It's incredible how volunteers impact your bottom line in war."
	"If you told them the truth," Battra said, "you wouldn't have an 
army so much as a bunch of drunks."  A slow grin appeared on his face.  
"But who needs the truth these days.  Isn't that right?"
	Basst didn't answer, but by his sudden nervous reaction, he 
really didn't need to.
	One of Battra's archers was still alive after the many attacks, 
and quietly tapped him on the shoulder.  "I believe I can begin the 
assault, Archmage."
	"Good girl," Battra nodded, and the woman began to set up her 
massive bow.  "Quietly," he advised, as Fiss was distracted talking to 
Nathan and two of the other commanders of the metal behemoths now 
rolling with them.  
	She nodded and quietly set up a shot.  "What are you doing?" 
Basst asked as he saw the woman pointing an arrow just over the trees.  
	"Rewarding your troops," Battra said, "for their lack of 
insight."
	The arrow was loosed before anyone else noticed, though Fiss spun 
around at the sound.  "What's that?" he shouted, scanning the sky, but 
seeing only one arrow.  To his shock, it came from his camp, not the 
other army.  
	"WHY ARE WE FIRING?" Chris demanded, running up to Battra.   
Another arrow was being knocked by the woman, but Chris grabbed her 
arm, causing her to shout out in surprise.
	"Because," Battra growled.  "If we strike first, more of us will 
live."
	Chris looked at him, then back to the startled people around him.  
Slowly, he let go of the archer's arm.  "Continue."
	She nodded, and launched another arrow as Battra smiled.  Basst 
frantically searched his pockets for something, and found a Theban 
marked stone a moment later.  "ATTACK!!" he shouted against the stone, 
but it was too late.   
	A massive burst of fire lit up the already bright sky.  Then, 
another.  And then, the wail of people on fire filled the air where 
there had once been the sounds of marching.  
	"CITY OF FISS!" Chris said, taking to the sky.  "Drop ANYTHING 
you can spare!  Stay to the left of the line!  All Archangels, prepare 
for battle!  Nathan, order your troops to guard against the East side!"
	"Yes, Sir!" Nathan responded, turning to the other commanders.
	"This is it, people!" Chris shouted as weapons were drawn and 
armour was checked.  "Spread out to avoid magic.  If you see anything 
strange, call out and let us know!  And for the Word's sake, do NOT go 
near the Aszaps if you don't have to!"
	The trees thinned out, and the first group of arrows from the 
other side came.  The trees, somehow, caught them all.  
	"You're doomed," Battra said, grinning towards Basst.  "The Word 
is on our side."
	Basst looked terrified, until he saw three Aszaps howling over 
the treetops towards the lead tent.  "We'll see about that," he said, 
then piloted his lizard away to observe from a safe distance.
	Fiss dropped his scabbard, realizing it would be pretty useless 
for the next few hours.  Then, he raised the blade into the air. 

	"ATTACK!"











Chapter 44











	"Tom?" a soft voice asked. 
	He mumbled, not wanting to wake just yet.  It was such a pleasant 
dream.  The feeling of snuggling next to a very warm, very beautiful 
girl was something he had forgotten how much he enjoyed. 
	"Uhm, Tom?" 
	"Sleeping," he mumbled back. 
	Somebody cleared their throat. "Oh, Thomas baby," Barlow 
chuckled.  "Gimme a kiss you big lug..."
	Thomas felt the very male lips touch down on his cheek, 
destroying any thoughts of sleeping in further.  "AARGHH!"  He jumped 
out of the bed, fell on the floor, and looked around, gasping as the 
world became clear around him. 
	Barlow, Jimmy, Ian and Beast were all laughing hysterically, 
while Danielle was blushing and trying not to laugh too much.  "Have a 
rough night, Romeo?" Ian chuckled.  "It's already noon."
	Thomas looked over to where Miharu had been sleeping.  Her side 
of the bed was already made and a note was folded on the pillow.  
"Where-what happened?" 	
	Beast cleared his throat to quiet the laughing.  "It seems Miharu 
was called away to an emergency assignment in Eden, and was thoughtful 
enough to let you sleep in."
	Deciding that looking at the note would be less embarrassing, he 
grabbed it.  "Why are you guys here anyway?"
	"Asked to help out with security," Barlow shrugged, nudging his 
shoulder.  "So?"
	"So what?" 
	"How was-"
	"Nothing happened!" Thomas insisted, no matter how much he wished 
otherwise.  "You're such a child," he said, opening the note.


	"Dear Tom,
	
	Thank you for letting my bawl my eyes out like that last night.  
I'm so sorry you had to see me like that.  I'll tell you a bit about my 
Uncle later.  I think you would have liked him.  Anyway, I have to go, 
my dad is having some trouble in Eden, and I need to be over there to 
lend a sword to the cause.  Hopefully, I'll be back tomorrow and we can 
talk things over during ice-cream.  
	Thanks again.  

	-Miharu.
	PS) There's food in the fridge.  Please help yourself."


	He smiled, holding the note up to the warm light coming in from 
the windows.  A few well-placed words or context changes, and he could 
almost pretend it was referring to a night of intimacy.  Then, as he 
re-read it, he realized that he didn't have time for fantasy.  
	Jimmy was reading over his shoulder.  "Hey, sweet!  Food in the 
kitchen," he said, grabbing Ian and heading to the other room.  
	Beast helped Thomas up from the floor.  "I heard rumblings in the 
air," he said quietly.  "Is it true Miharu has lost her uncle?"
	"Oh, no," Danielle said sadly.  "No wonder she sounded so upset."
	Thomas nodded, folding the note back up and placing it in his 
pocket.
	"That's very sweet of you," Danielle said.  "I'm sure she 
appreciated it."
	"Yeah," Barlow said, patting him on the back.  "Should have 
called us, man.  We could have come up last night if she needed us."
	"Well, what about this job?" Thomas asked.  "We can go to Eden 
and help out, right?"
	Barlow shook his head.  "Captain Kirk downstairs says the entire 
vault is off limits.  Even for us.  Unless we're marching through with 
Miharu or Yamato or somebody, we'd never see the doors."
	"They'd ask us to go if she was really in trouble, right?" 
Danielle wondered out loud.  "Also, Ian said that they might not like 
me there."
	Ian came back into the room with a few cookies he'd nicked from 
Miharu's kitchen.  "Only if you start trying to raise the dead."
	She shot him a defensive look.  "I would never.  You know that."
	"We should go," Jimmy mumbled around a turkey sandwich he had 
made.  "It's training, right?  Can we grab some guns?"
	"It's a little bit more dangerous than the dojo," Ian said dryly.  
"SkitZ told me all about that place.  We can't fly, and we can't 
regenerate if we get skewered."
	"If you're scared," Barlow chided, "you can stay home and play 
with your baby sister."
	"Who almost got killed this week," Ian said quickly.  "I'd rather 
not jump into another deathtrap without any idea of what's going on."
	Beast let out a long sigh.  "People are very nervous about the 
next several hours.  The very structure of the country could be 
drastically changed.  I believe it is in our best interests to assist 
where we can, and I would volunteer to go if we can find a way."
	Barlow grinned.  "There we go.  Count me in," he turned to Ian.  
"And I'd really feel better if you were there to save our asses when 
they get handed to us, man."
	Ian glared at him, then took a bite out of the cookie in his 
hand.  "Fine.  Yeah.  I'm in."
	"I'm in too," Danielle said bravely, even though it was clear she 
would rather stay home.  
	"Can we get some guns?" Jimmy repeated.  "Oh, but I'm in too 
either way."
	Thomas nodded, looking around.  "See if she has any spare keys or 
passes.  We need a way in."
	The group began looking through Miharu's apartment as quick as 
they could.  Thomas had to slap Jimmy upside his head when he caught 
the boy looking through Miharu's undergarments.  
	Unfortunately, Miharu was not so stupid as to have a 'spare high-
security-key' hook on the wall, nor anything that looked fit to hold a 
back-up pass safely.  Beast walked around, trying to get impressions 
from the walls and the furniture but there didn't seem to be many 
clues.
	"Kirk wouldn't let us in if we asked really nice, would he?" 
Thomas asked. 
	Beast shook his head.  "Not for something this important."
	"Well, shit," Barlow sighed, wandering back over to the fridge.  
"We can't just beat him up and steal his keys."
	"What about Yamato?" Jimmy asked.
	"Well," Barlow said, tilting his head to the side as he thought 
about it.  "He's older, but I doubt we could beat him up unless we 
surprise-"
	"No!" Jimmy grumbled.  "I mean, why don't we just ask Yamato?  
He's probably worried about what's going on too."
	"I get the distinct impression that we are living a portion of a 
Scooby Doo episode," Beast said as they left the apartment and ran down 
the hall to the old blacksmith's.
	"I preferred the A-Team reference," Thomas told Barlow, who 
grinned back. 
	They knocked on the door, but nobody answered.  "Try his cell," 
Jimmy offered.  It rang with an "out of service range" message.  
	"Must be in Eden too?" Danielle shrugged.  "I doubt they have 
cell towers yet."
	"Note to self," Barlow said, reaching out to the door.  "Invest 
in Telco," he said, grabbing the metal to warp the lock.  To his 
surprise, the door did not respond to his power.  "Whoa," he said, 
surprised.
	"What is it?" Ian asked.
	"I can't do it," he shrugged, turning to the others.  "Some kind 
of anti-magic.  Probably that angel stuff."
	Thomas cleared his throat to cover the sound of a screw coming 
loose somewhere in the door.  "Try again.  I think I saw it budge."
	"Didn't feel it," Barlow shrugged, then nearly fell through the 
door when it swung open easily.  "Ah, guess I don't know my own 
strength."
	Beast had a little smile on his face as he and Tom let the others 
rush in first.  "If for no other reason, I will be happy to keep your 
secret simply for the comedic value."
	"Thanks," Thomas grinned.  
	They searched Yamato's place.  It was a bit messier, darker, and 
there were drawers and drawers of strange items and magically marked 
tablets that they dared not to mess with.  Nothing seemed to stand out 
as a key or a pass of any kind.  
	"Sensei?" someone called from the door, nudging it open with his 
knee as he carried a huge box in his arms.  "Are you back already?  I 
saw the door-"
	The Missionaries turned around in surprise to see a very 
surprised Matsumoto.  
	Danielle gasped and bolted towards the door, slamming it behind 
the old man so he couldn't leave.  Barlow and Beast flanked him, and 
Ian offered to take the heavy box.  
	"What's going on here?" he glared at Thomas.  
	"It's a stickup, see?" Jimmy said.
	"Shut-up," Barlow sighed at the boy.  
	Thomas could see the old man reaching for his cell phone.  
"Please, Matsumoto, we need your help."
	"I've watched Star Wars too many times to be tricked by that 
one," the old man grumbled.  "And you're not NEARLY cute enough."
	"Says you," Barlow chuckled, earning a dirty look from the group.
	"You've broken into my Sensei's quarters and you expect me to 
help you?" he growled.  "Where's Kirk.  I'm going to call Kirk right 
now."
	"You're worried, Deshi," Beast said quickly, surprising the old 
man.  "Aren't you."
	Matsumoto looked over to Beast.  "I know your powers.  That's not 
very polite."
	"But it's true," Beast said kindly.  "I'm sure we could all sense 
it.  That's why we want to go and help."
	"What about the city?" Matsumoto asked.
	"Demeter is here," Ian said.  "Isn't he?"
	Matsumoto nodded reluctantly.  "He is."
	"Plus, all the Coats," Jimmy said brightly.  "Remember?  We're 
the group they send in when the Coats can't go.  Not the ones who stay 
behind."
	"You're not ready yet," Matsumoto insisted.  
	"But we're close," Thomas explained.  "And this isn't about 
proving ourselves.  This is about helping Yamato and Miharu and 
everyone else."
	Matsumoto sighed, then looked to Ian.  "You'll keep these fools 
alive, right?"
	Ian smiled nervously.  "I have so far."
	Slowly, he reached into his pocket and produced what looked like, 
at first glance, a plastic key-card.  It had a holographic Theban strip 
inlaid on the back.  
	"Nine-Nine-Eight-One.  You didn't get it from me," Matsumoto said 
as Thomas bowed his head.  
	They all rushed down the hall to the elevator, and were amazed to 
see a hidden key-card reader was now evident beneath the touch-screen 
control system.  
	Tom swiped the card through the reader, and they all said 'Oooh!' 
as holographic Theban floated in mid air.  Jimmy pressed his hand to 
it, and was shocked to find it solid.  It shifted and formed a half-
moon of tiny holographic tablets, each with a number inscribed on them. 
	Barlow sighed and looked away.  "Damn that stuff is powerful," he 
mumbled, rubbing his temples.  
	Jimmy pressed the number sequence given to them by Matsumoto and 
the elevator's control panel lit up with a few new choices.  "Eden 
Bay," he said excitedly.  "Hey, what's the vault?"
	"Focus," Danielle said, slapping his hand away from the 'vault' 
button.  
	Tom hit the Eden Bay button and the elevator rocketed down at an 
alarming speed.  Barlow continued to look very uncomfortable as they 
were soon underground.  "Anyone here know how to accidentally counter 
Theban?" he wondered out loud.
	"No," Ian shrugged.  "Why?"
	"Just asking," Barlow said.  "We're traveling through solid rock 
at the moment.  I wouldn't want us to accidentally stop being phased."
	Danielle cleared her throat.  "That would be bad, right?"
	"Can you breathe rock?" Jimmy grinned up at her.  
	Danielle now looked just as nervous as Barlow did.  
	A gentle shudder caught them, and they changed directions ever so 
slightly.  They could now see faint lights in the distance through the 
large glass doors, and they seemed to be slowing from a height of three 
or four stories down to the bottom of a giant warehouse.
	At the end of the room was a set of massive hangar doors, which 
were currently open only a crack.  Light was flickering behind them in 
a gentle, rhythmic swirl.  More impressive were the people arranged 
there for the event.  Nearly two hundred nurses and doctors dressed in 
white medical coats and scrubs were lining the walls, and just as many 
Coats stood ready with automatic weapons.  One of the Coats noticed the 
elevator and trotted over with three others to investigate.  
	"Shit," Jimmy said.  "Didn't think about this part."
	"Relax," Barlow said.  "You may be the youngest mage here, but 
I'm easily the most talented."
	Before Jimmy could ask what he meant, Barlow pushed himself to 
the front of the elevator car and exited it.  "What's the situation?" 
he asked the Coats as they ran up to him.
	One of the coats had been there during the gun-fire demonstration 
several weeks ago.  He smiled brightly and took a step forward.  
"Mister Barlow.  Glad to see you're doing well."
	He gave a quick smile but it faded a moment later.  "Sorry, don't 
have much time for chitchat.  Maybe once we get back."
	"We were told no more parties were entering the Door," the Coat 
said, confused.  
	"Last minute change of plans," Thomas said, walking forward and 
showing them the ID card.  "Miharu Fiss has asked us to escort Danielle 
here to Eden to help."
	The three Coats looked at Danielle, who blushed and waved 
timidly. 
	"Her?" they asked all at once. 
	Ian took a step forward.  "Yeah.  The girl who has magic the 
angels don't have.  Got a problem with my sister, asshole?"
	The Coat looked horrified.  "Oh, geeze, I'm sorry.  Yeah, okay, 
come on, we'll get you through the crowd."
	Thomas gave them all a grin as they followed.  Barlow looked 
pleased.  "See?  There's more to life than guns."
	Jimmy slowed down as they walked, looking at the array of weapons 
assembled should the fight turn sour and come through the door.  "Guys.  
You gotta check this out!"
	They sighed, then turned to the massive silver shape that Jimmy 
had found under a tarp.  Thomas' face brightened and he turned to the 
Coats.  "It would really help if we could take that with us."
	"NO!" the Coats said at the same time.  
	Danielle let out a little sigh, then stepped towards them with 
big, doe-eyes.  "But I'm so scared!  There will be monsters over there, 
and I really don't know what I'll do!"
	
	They fell for it like a sack full of rusty doorknobs. 

	"Well," the first Coat sighed.  "We really don't have anyone 
trained on that just yet anyway..."
	Jimmy gasped and rummaged through his pockets.  "Come on-come 
on...where did I put it...AHH!" he shouted in victory, rushing up to 
the man and showing a small card in his wallet.  
	The Coat squinted in the dim light, read the card, and then 
blinked.  "Is this real?  You have a licence for that thing??"
	"Yes," the Missionaries said all at once. 
	"How old are you, kid?" the Coat asked. 
	Jimmy grinned at him.  "Old enough to score better than you, old 
man."
	Thomas cleared his throat and placed his hand on the Coat's 
shoulder.  "We'll take full responsibility for any damages," he said, 
leaning closer to whisper, "come on, I'm trying to show her a good 
time.  You know," he motioned towards Danielle, who was still batting 
her eyelashes and looking helpless. 
	The Coat sighed, turned to the others, and nodded.  

	"Grab the tarp."










Chapter 45











	The two lines of heavy artillery clashed, ignoring the assembled 
armies for the most part.  After peppering the Aszaps and the Eden's 
Will with machinegun fire, the US Mecha corps were easily able to find 
the greater threats.  Most of the volunteers ran for shelter behind the 
few of them who could cast shields, only for those shields to be ripped 
apart.  Casualties occurred rapidly.  
	When the Aszaps took a bullet, however, they ignored the damage 
unless it specifically destroyed their brains or severed their heads 
completely from their bodies.  Not only that, but they had begun to 
shield their faces and heads with their wings, absorbing all but the 
most lucky rounds of ammunition.  
	"Alpha Group!  Engage!" Nathan shouted into the radio, watching 
from behind the lines. 
	Interspersed along the line, every third tank began to shudder.  
The wine of turbine engines filled the air, and with a great explosion 
of steam, each of the tanks began to rise up off of the ground, 
transforming into insect-like shapes nearly twenty feet tall.  The line 
of cherubs slowed, looking at their new foes with obvious confusion.
	Turbines screamed and several of the mecha launched forward with 
surprising agility on the sandy soil.  The cherubs were much faster, 
and were able to prevent themselves from being crushed under the legs 
and treads of the mecha by taking to the air.  
	Several of them, however, were caught by the massive metal claws 
of the mecha, and a great howl of pain filled the air as three of the 
Aszaps were crushed into pulp.  Nathan breathed a sigh of relief while 
the other corps commanders cheered and patted themselves on the back.  
	The cherubs, however, did not seem to be willing to retreat.  
They ignored the tanks still providing cover fire and instead, swarmed 
the ones that had transformed.  It was like watching a great bear being 
attacked by several wolverines.  While the mecha's armour was too thick 
for the Aszaps to puncture, the cherubs soon found the hydraulic lines 
and equipment, equating them to blood vessels in their new foes.  Their 
claws scraped and tore into the metal shielded lines, eventually 
causing leaks, even as they were swatted like flies.  Unless they were 
ripped apart, the Aszaps kept coming.  
	It was a tense twenty minutes as several of the mecha went limp 
in puddles of their own oil and fuel.  One of them exploded, taking not 
only three Aszaps with it, but also several people running past who 
were scorched by the heat.  Seeing a few of the monolithic metal beasts 
defeated also restored some of courage in the volunteer army's hearts.  
Arrows began to fill the air again, sometimes bouncing off of the 
mecha's skins, but others were charged with magic.  Another mecha 
exploded, as an bright silver arrow struck it and lightning coursed up 
from its fuel tank to the sky.  The blast blew off the front metal 
panel of one of the nearby mecha, and Nathan watched in horror as the 
pilot and gunner were ripped out of the cockpit by the white winged 
monsters a moment later.
	"We're running out of fuel!" one of the pilots shouted through 
the radio.  "Watch the pressure!  They're targeting the joints!"
	"Beta Group, advance!" Nathan ordered.  "Help Alpha group get 
back to the line!"
	Another howl of turbine engines filled the air as the next set of 
tanks jumped forward, shifting into their more mobile melee form.  
While the armour on each of the mecha was sufficient to stop the claws 
of the Aszaps, it was clear one pilot had made an error as he tried to 
blast a number of them off of a fellow mecha.  
	"Where did you find these guys?" Nathan growled to the other 
commander, who watched in horror as the mecha fell over, smoking.  
	The commander grabbed the radio.  "Do NOT fire at other units!  I 
repeat!  Do NOT fire at other units!  Melee engagement only!  Gamma 
Group, focus fire into the other hostile ground units!"
	"Radar's picking up something, sir!" someone shouted behind them.  
"Incoming at three o'clock, high!"
	When Nathan and the commander turned to the sky, however, they 
saw nothing.  Not until a sky-blue dragon wing overlapped a cloud and 
betrayed its existence. 
	Ten blue dominions spiralled out of the sky to attack.  Instead 
of focusing on the mecha, however, they turned to the field of running 
people.  
	Nathan found a rifle and levelled it at the lead dragon, but the 
one shot didn't even hit as it spun around to lower its claws.  Screams 
from the crowd filled the air as they saw the impending death from 
above.  
	Then, a small, red line of light leapt up from somewhere in the 
crowd.  It hit the lead dominion, vaporized it, and continued on to the 
next.  Three more dominions turned into ash before the light faded, and 
a massive orange Theban glyph appeared over the crowd when the 
remaining seven tried to attack.  
	One of them hit and smeared against the shield as if it had just 
hit pavement.  The others screeched and reared back up into the sky, 
chased by a pair of stone arrows.  Each caught their targets, and two 
of the remaining dominions seemed to be suddenly tied to the ground 
with rope.  
	Slowly, as they struggled to fly, their tails seemed to grow 
heavier and heavier.  They made the mistake of trying to reach the 
highest point they could – the City of SkitZ.  Each hit the bay water a 
moment later and fell under the waves.  
	"Terrible death, drowning like that," Battra said casually as he 
walked up behind Nathan.  "Stupid dragons." 
	Nathan turned to him slowly.
	"Ah, I see mister Fiss has explained a bit about our duel," the 
old mage grinned.  "Don't worry.  I'm certain he has many hours of life 
left.  Even if everyone runs."
	"Tambre's dead," Nathan said coldly.
	"And many others will die tonight," Battra said flippantly.  
"Maybe you'll die and get to visit her.  It really doesn't matter."
	"And you're okay with this?" Nathan said.  "You sell out your own 
people, and then try to kill the man who's saved them?"
	Battra's smile faded and he turned to Nathan with a cold stare.  
"It was Marish's influence that kept the Council at bay for so long.  I 
have no love for her work, but I respect her for what she can do.  She 
left her House to grasp her destiny.  Would you be so brave?"
	"What she does is WRONG!" Nathan growled.
	"We ALL do wrong!" Battra hissed.  "You, right now, are killing 
people with families.  Mommies and daddies whose children will become 
orphans tonight.  Marish only angers you because she killed someone you 
knew.  I knew Azrael," he said with a smirk.  "You should thank me for 
killing him, but because you are so disillusioned by his – admittedly 
quite impressive – acting abilities, you may never know the good I do."
	"He is not-"
	"Marish was fooled, too," Battra said, walking past him so he 
could see the battle.  "Believes Fiss to be a beautiful, holy man.  I 
think it poetic that her one failure was to trust him, and that it was 
his influence that led her to create these abominations."  Another pair 
of mecha were felled and gutted, and Battra let out an appreciative 
chuckle.  "Of course, they do have a semblance of grace," he added.  
	"You piece of shit," Nathan said, grabbing the mage's collar and 
pulling him up to eye level.  "You'll have me and mine to deal with 
before you even GET to Fiss!"
	"We need time to reload!" the commander shouted.  
	"Allow me," Battra said politely, glaring at Nathan until the man 
let his cloak go.  "Your toys are impressive, but they lack the 
endurance needed for this world."
	Nathan gritted his teeth and stormed off.  "Yeah, have fun."
	"I will," Battra smiled, raising his hands to the sky.  Storm 
clouds began to gather rapidly along the line of mecha and cherubs, 
covering them with a dark shadow.  











	Ten of the mecha had formed a wedge on the beachfront to protect 
what would inevitably be the last portion of the exodus, but a 
smattering of the volunteer army managed to get past the blockade in 
time.  
	Before the US mecha could turn their attention to the group of 
mages, fighters, and cherubim, they were forced to hold back the swarms 
of others who hadn't managed to get through.  
	Chris and the five remaining Archangels who weren't assigned to 
protect the masses of people behind them slowed their run as they saw 
what the army had brought for their fight.  Three lines of swordsmen 
raised their weapons nervously as the angels spread out to protect a 
smaller core of mages behind them.  
	"This is it?" one of his angels mocked.  "M'Lord, please, I'll be 
happy to-"
	"Shh," Fiss ordered, focusing past the swords and to the three 
mages that had managed to get through.  "They're drawing a gate!  
Quick!  STOP THEM!"  He lashed out with his sword, firing a blue 
crescent of energy, but it was stopped as the swordsmen jumped in front 
of it, taking the attack.  
	Realization hit the angels' faces and they launched themselves 
forward.  Two jumped into the air, hoping to bypass the swords, while 
Chris and the others leapt into the fray. 
	A very lucky arrow took care of one of the airborne angels, and 
two of the mages turned in time to shoot a bolt of fire into the chest 
of the other.  Fiss cleaved through the bulk of the swordsmen, and the 
entire group was dispatched in less than a minute without so much as a 
crossed sword.  As he turned to attack the mages, however, they were 
already running back to join the army to report their success.  A 
silver-blue flickering circle was now drawn on the sand, and an oval-
shaped portal was taking shape about one foot off the ground.  
	Fiss aimed his sword at a breaking point on the pattern, and 
would have had just enough time to shout 'Fiss', if it were not for the 
huge metal-capped hoof that came through the gate and landed squarely 
on his stomach.  
	He fell hard and grunted in pain as the cherub came through 
completely, using him as a doormat.  Chris just barely had time to roll 
out of the way of the second set of legs, then the second Aszap as it 
strode through the gate.  Then the third.  He started crawling over to 
the script when the line of cherubim did not seem to want to end.  
	Fiss pushed his sword into the sand and destroyed the script, 
only to find himself mysteriously flung into the air a moment later by 
something sharp, digging into his wings.  
	When he landed, it was at the foot of the massive beast that had 
stomped on him to begin with.  He looked up.  Then up some more.  Then, 
he had to twist himself out of the heap he had landed in to see the 
thing's face.  Its mask was not glowing white, but a dirty, pitted dark 
silver, lined by long, red rope that gave it the impression of 
dreadlocks.  
	As he picked himself up, he realized that the head was still 
nearly three feet taller than he was.  It looked down on him with a 
low, evil snicker filling the air.  Nine more were on the beach behind 
it.  
	"You've got to be kidding-" he said, before having to block the 
thing's massive claws with his sword.  The force of the impact threw 
him back, though this time he kept his footing as the three angels 
behind him helped catch him.  
	"This may be a good time to use that gate-breaking power of 
yours," Famiel said nervously as the ten massive cherubim arranged 
themselves in a half-circle, closing in on the angels. 
	"I like the way you think," Chris said readying his blade.  He 
closed his eyes and reached inward to use the Casting Block.  

	Then, the things screamed.  

	It shattered his concentration and suddenly, the power was gone.  
Again and again, they screamed when Chris came close to using it.  They 
could tell when he was reaching for it somehow.  
	"Plan B," Chris shouted as they continued screaming.
	"What's plan B?" Famiel asked.
	
	"Wait for backup!" someone shouted.

	They backed up to the water, where a huge piece of ice was being 
piloted over the waves.  Michael and Gabriel stood up front, but just 
behind them, holding on to the ice, Miharu, Sailor Venus, Pluto, 
Jupiter and Hooze were traveling along with them.  A small army of 
SkitZ Cherubim flew behind them, pushing the ice and readying their 
weapons.  
	A long path of thick ice began to form, connecting the shore to 
the City out in the bay.  Walking across the newly formed bridge, 
Yamato was throwing tiny stones into the ice, reinforcing it with 
Theban.  
	Beavis grinned, floating down onto Chris' shoulder.  "I brought 
help."
	"I see," Chris laughed.  "You want that car allowance, don't 
you?"
	"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!" another shouted, this time from the land.  
	The makeshift ice-boat landed and the Knights and Senshi all 
jumped off.  Michael turned to see Basst running frantically to him and 
Gabriel.  "Can I hurt him?" he asked Gabe with a grin.
	"No," Gabe said tiredly.  "Not yet, anyway."
	The ten Bull Aszaps watched on with confusion, and the three 
Archangels shrugged at them. 
	"This is a blatant violation of our treaty!" Basst howled, nearly 
bouncing into the iceberg to slow himself down from running.  "You are 
obstructing the Eden's Will Army!  You hereby forfeit your trade route 
claims and-"
	Michael pulled out his sword, slammed it down in the sand, and 
the Councilman's voice was suddenly gone.  "That's much, much better," 
he announced, turning to the cherubs and those Eden's Will within 
shouting range.  When he shouted, it boomed louder than the guns on the 
mecha nearby. 
	"Eden's Will Army!!  This is Lord Michael, Knight of the House of 
SkitZ.  Consider this your only warning that the beach is registered 
territory of the House of SkitZ!  The moment your foot or hoof touches 
my sand..."
	Basst was shaking his head frantically, trying to speak, but 
Michael's sword was cancelling out his voice.  
	"Your collective asses," SkitZ continued with a wicked, toothy 
grin, "will officially belong to me!"











	Chapter 46











	Dave Reinquest stood against the rail, shimmering slightly as he 
maintained a shield of Penguinspace around his body to protect himself 
from the heat.  
	The universe, he knew, could show him stars fifty times as large, 
and in every colour of the rainbow, not even including the rare anti-
stars and pulse gas-giants.  It could show him phenomena a human could 
only see during REM sleep, that were more beautiful than anything they 
have seen in the sky thus far.  He had personally witnessed the birth 
of thirty-nine stars and the death of six.  Dave had seen the barren 
wastelands of three dead alien civilizations, and seen a field of ice-
crystals used as the last hope of a race wanting to preserve its kings 
and queens.  More recently, he had seen what lay between Universes.  
The magical ether that was everything and nothing.  He had seen angels 
and dragons and sights to tempt men and women to both sin and 
salvation.  

	Nothing compared the feeling of Home.

	This star had given them life for so long.  Stirred the 
primordial ooze at just the right moments, and sent off pulses at just 
the right time to make everything work out in the end.  As Dave watched 
the bubbling, turbulent ocean below, he felt a romantic smile slipping 
on to his face.  
	"No need of sun to light the way," he said, singing something he 
had heard from one of the more musically inclined members of the Web.  

	"Across the ages, we have reigned as we endured!
	 Through the storm fronts we will ever surely pass!
	 To stand as never-ending light!"

	He took a long, cleansing breath as he saw a stray stream of 
plasma coming closer.  
	"Let there be," Dave said, taking off his spare coat, "let there 
always be Never-Ending Light."
	The plasma leapt up and splattered into the wall next to Dave.  
He ducked under the charged liquid with ease.  Unlike the rest of the 
Sun's surface, this sudden burst seemed slow and weak in comparison to 
the chaos below.
	"You scared the hell out of me," Dave told the blob as it slowly 
cooled and formed a naked body.  
	It reached out weakly and took Dave's coat when smoke had stopped 
coming off its skin.  He looked pink and sunburnt, and all his hair but 
the faintest wisps around his head had been singed off.
	"Stop looking at my butt," Maury whispered hoarsely, draping the 
coat around him.  
	Dave laughed and helped him sit up against the wall.  
	"How long was I gone?" Mo asked, looking up at him, shaking as if 
he was suddenly cold.  
	"Just two solar days," Dave said.  
	"Did it work?" he asked. 
	"Everyone's still on edge, but there's been no fighting," Dave 
said.  "It will take some time for tempers to cool down and the rumours 
to stop.  I'm sure the Senshi are going to kill me for not answering my 
cell phone."
	Maury cringed.  
	"It had to look real," Dave insisted.  "I just got word that the 
Dolesbur guy sent probes to look for you back on Earth.  We were right 
to suspect.  He's given up for now, at least."
	"Got it," Maury sighed, looking out over the Sun.  He looked 
strangely different.  Haunted.  He stood up and gazed at the sight with 
dry, wide eyes. 
	"What was it like?" Dave asked, curiosity piquing.  
	"Scary," Mo said.  "But...maybe like a hot-tub with bubbles and 
everything feels so nice, but you feel like you could drown any second.  
And breathing-" he coughed on reflex, spitting out something from his 
lungs.  "It was like, I could feel every breath was just a tiny bit 
smaller.  A little closer to drowning."
	Dave nodded, hands dangling over the rail.  "Sounds like you're 
describing solar entropy."
	"Did you ever do anything like that?" Maury asked, turning to 
him. 
	"Jump into a sun?  Turn into liquid energy and surf the 
chromosphere?" Dave chuckled.  "Nope.  Can't say I have."
	"Do you think it's possible to see things?" Maury said, then 
shook his head.  "No, what I mean is...I think I saw something in 
there.  Maybe I was just dreaming, but it didn't feel the same."
	Dave shook his head.  "What you're asking me is impossible to 
answer.  Your power comes from this star.  It's possible that you'd see 
things that nobody else could.  Maybe the thoughts of all those who 
shared your power in the past.  Maybe, like you described earlier, you 
could feel the sun breathing and it was so overwhelming that it scared 
you."
	"That's a lot of maybes," Maury smiled at him.  "I thought you 
Omega Web peeps knew everything?"
	"We don't," Dave winked.  "But it's our best kept secret."
	Mo nodded and turned back to the view.  
	"Did you want to stay for a while?" Dave asked. 
	"No," Maury said, suddenly sounding slightly bitter.  "I've done 
all I could here.  I want to go home."
	"William and Dora are already heading back to Earth," Dave said, 
patting him on the shoulder.  "Sanis is staying with the Council until 
the new year.  We can take the Dolphin back when you're ready.  Nobody 
will see us leaving."
	Mo nodded, turning to leave, but then jumped in surprise.  Dave 
followed his eyes and felt his stomach twist when he saw Waddin 
standing there, by the open wet-dock.  
	Waddin didn't seem so shocked, however, and walked calmly over to 
the pair.  "I figured this was the case," he said through the mask 
around his head.  "I can spot a trick a mile away."
	"So," Maury said, clearing his throat.  "What now?"
	"Who else knows?" Dave demanded, taking a threatening step 
forward. 
	Waddin shook his head.  "Nobody.  I'm sure Dolesbur suspects, but 
he'll trust me when I tell him I watched you leave alone."
	Maury turned to Dave, then back to Waddin.  "You're just letting 
me go?  Just like that?
	Waddin nodded, walking past them so he could view the Sun up 
close for the first time.  "I made a mistake," he said with a long 
sigh.  "I killed a good man for this republic.  I'm glad I did not have 
to see a second man die for this fantasy of mine."
	"It's hardly a fantasy," Dave said.
	The old Vizier smiled and shrugged.  "I suppose we'll see.  
Goodbye, Prince Sol."
	Dave motioned to Maury, who nodded and let the coat come over his 
head.  He disappeared into it a moment later, and Dave picked it up 
from the ground.  
	"Did you really mean that?" Waddin asked. 
	"Pardon?" Dave blinked.  
	"That you'd wipe us out," Waddin said.  "If we hurt your planet."
	Dave paused before answering.  "In a heartbeat."
	Waddin nodded.  "Could you have?  I mean...all bluffing aside?"
	This time, Dave just nodded.  "You have no idea how easy it is to 
do," he said with a long sigh.  "That's why I'd do it to save them, 
even though I'd hate myself for the rest of my life."
	"You," Waddin smiled, "are a very scary man, David Reinquest."
	Dave smirked.  "And that's why men like me shouldn't be in 
charge."  Waddin looked surprised when Dave offered him his hand.  
Slowly, he took it and they shared a warm shake.  
	"Let me know if you need help with the Mercury base," he said.  
"Sanis will know where to find me, and I don't mind giving you a hand 
when it's to save lives."
	"Thank you," Waddin nodded.  
	"Oh," Dave turned to him.  "One piece of advice with democracy."
	Waddin nodded, waiting. 
	"People are stupid," he chuckled.  "Make sure you know what 
they're doing behind your back."
	"A lesson I've learned long ago and many times since," Waddin 
said with a hint of regret in his voice.  "Thanks."
	With that, Dave turned into light, and sped upwards, away from 
the Sun, leaving the new Negaverse ruler alone with the flicker of the 
sun and his thoughts.











Chapter 47











	Battra's control over the weather had taken hold, and the sky was 
now black and thick with energy.  A precise line of flashing lightning 
could be seen off in the distance, protecting the US Mecha and helping 
them push the Aszaps back with fewer and fewer casualties.  
	It also darkened the beach, and cast a harsh light over the 
combatants as they circled each other, looking for openings.  The 
Senshi had easily surrounded the larger Bull Aszaps, but nobody had 
bothered rushing in to their claws just yet.  
	Michael ordered the bulk of his cherubs to assist with funnelling 
the House of Fiss past the last line of danger, and Yamato was busy 
repairing the ice as hundreds of people ran past them.  A few cherubs 
had surrounded Basst to ensure he didn't try anything to sabotage the 
bridge.  The fact that so many people were making it across the water 
clearly angered the Aszaps.  
	"Like we talked about," Hooze shouted, raising her hands to start 
the assault.  She brought her hand down into her palm with her fingers 
arranged like a cage.  "Jan-Ken-Pon...PAPER SPREAD!"
	Five energy shields appeared around the cherubs, leaving two gaps 
where Sailor Pluto and Sailor Jupiter were standing.  Jupiter raised 
her hands to the sky.  "Thunder!  CRASH!"
	Pluto raised her Time-Key and spun it towards the group as 
lightning began to rain down on them.  "Dead...Scream," she said 
without whispering, causing a massive ball of seething energy to rip 
into the nearest monster.  
	The explosion shattered the paper-shields, but then refocused 
back into the circle as both Pluto and Jupiter leapt out of the way.  
Before they could celebrate, however, Miharu ran up and pushed Andrea 
out of the way of a set of claws that would have ripped her in half.  
Her sword blocked them, and she growled, slashing the beast's front 
with a counterattack.  
	Even with a ragged hole in its torso from Pluto's attack, the 
cherub still tried to fight Miharu as she turned more and more of its 
body into ribbons.  SkitZ helped finish it off with a fly-by sword to 
the head, but when he landed, it was clear he was surprised by the 
armoured mask's resistance to his blade.  
	Before the group could formulate another attack, the Aszaps 
rushed out of the smoke and attacked them, wings charred uselessly on 
their backs from Jupiter's lightning.  
	"Go for their brains!" Chris shouted, raising his sword.  
"Nothing else hurts them!  Limbs or brains!"  
	He tried to take off the deadly front claws of one, but it had 
far more speed and strength than the smaller Aszaps.  It nearly managed 
to grab Fiss' sword away from him until he twisted his blade away, 
ripping off fingers as he went.  He would have been able to fly around 
and attack the thing from behind, but another cherub had been waiting 
for the move, and caught Chris' wing in its claws.  Hooze placed a 
well-aimed Scissors to sever the arm that held her brother, but it only 
made a cut halfway to the bone.  Chris kicked it to snap the bone, then 
dodged the second arm by rolling his body closer to the cherub.  His 
sword came up behind the beast's head and tore off its mask.
	Gabriel was quick despite her old bones, and was able to dodge 
the two coming for her, casting Theban as she went.  When the glyph 
rebounded off of the Aszaps' skin, however, she rolled and pulled out 
her sword.  "Mike!" she shouted.  "Uriel was right!"
	Michael hadn't bothered with spells and had dove in with his 
sword right away, leaving Venus to attempt the more mystical offence.  
"NOW!" he shouted landing on one of their backs and ripping its mask 
off with his sword.  
	Venus aimed her finger and a bright laser-like blast connected 
with the shrivelled face underneath, charring its flesh further.  It 
kept charging, however, and Michael frantically tried to saw off its 
head with his sword.  
	The mass of muscle and bone resisted his edge and he had to jam 
his blade down into its front leg to stop it from trampling Venus.  
Miharu and Fiss came out from the sides and attacked.  Their swords 
connected to the Aszap's neck, finishing what Michael started.
	"Three fucking swords to finish one off?" Michael growled.  "What 
the hell are these things?"
	Three of the Aszaps bolted past them with blood on their claws.  
Fiss turned to see another one of his angels in tatters, while Famiel 
was clutching his chest in pain.  
	Ignoring the smaller SkitZ cherubim, the Aszaps leapt over them 
and into the crowd as they ran past.  Screams filled the air as the 
body of a man was thrown up into the air, already dead before he hit 
the ground.  Three more were killed before Michael and Chris could get 
to them, even as SkitZ cherubs swarmed over the massive beasts, trying 
to stop them from further massacre.
	"Reform the line!" SkitZ ordered as the two Knights met their 
swords to the Aszaps' claws.  
	The crowd moved past quickly, while some cried, eyes on dead 
family or friends.  Bristling their silver spears, the SkitZ cherubs 
dug in their heals, determined not to let any one else die so close to 
freedom.  
	"Push!" Michael shouted, and Fiss nodded.  Their wings began to 
flap and force the struggling Aszaps backwards, but only slowly, and 
only because they no longer had wings of their own.  
	Both massive beasts began to screech in their minds as crystal 
blood poured out over them from the cuts in their claws.  Still, the 
claws tried to find the Knights' flesh.
	"Shut UP!" Chris growled angrily, fighting against the thing's 
strength in order to point his blade at its throat.  
	"NOW!" Jupiter shouted.  She and Venus ran at the pair and fired 
their attacks at the cherub's back legs.  
	The sudden balance shift was enough to topple both Aszaps, and 
Michael sunk his sword into the head of one.  Fiss', however, was not 
so easily killed.  It held onto his sword and pulled Fiss off balance 
as it fell down.  A hoof would have found his eye if it wasn't for 
Jupiter's quick thinking to stomp on the limb.  Pluto smashed the 
thing's skull in from behind with her staff and helped Fiss up from the 
sand.
	"How are we doing?" Chris asked, looking around. 
	Six of the Bull Aszaps were still standing and were hissing 
angrily, trying to force their way closer to the people escaping their 
grasp.  None of them seemed at all disturbed by their fallen comrades, 
wanting only to kill their targets.  
	Gabe continued to try to hit them with Theban, but every spell 
she tried seemed to fly off course and impact harmlessly against one of 
the remaining six.  "Michael!" she said.  "This one is a mage killer!" 
	As the group re-surrounded the cherubs, Michael looked much less 
at ease.  "No way Uriel was right.  There hasn't been one for eighty 
years," he grumbled.  "Are you sure?"
	"Very.  I remember how hard it was to kill the last one," she 
said.  
	The cherubs seemed to be able to understand what was being said, 
and slowly began backing up to protect their anti-magic brother.  
	"Everyone, back away!" Pluto leapt up into the air, this time 
shouting her attack.  "PLUTO DEAD SCREAM!"  
	Hooze launched another round of paper shields to protect her 
sister and the others, and once again, the smoke cleared to show barely 
a scratch despite the power of the attack.  In fact, the flesh closest 
to the mage-killer Aszap seemed completely untouched.  
	Miharu saw one of the cherubs about to attack.  "Dad!  Center 
left!" she said as she ran at the monster, sword extended.  
	He slashed down through the air, creating a massive arch of blue 
light.  It slammed into the cherub, shearing off a portion of its side, 
but the rest of the power was leached away by the anti-magic abilities 
of the other.  
	Miharu arrived in time to slash off its front claws, only to be 
tossed to the side by a massive head-bunt.  Venus caught her before she 
landed, reached around Miharu's body, and both her and Jupiter launched 
their power simultaneously, hoping to finish the beast off.  One of the 
others stepped in the way of the attack, however, and took only a 
smoking crater in its side before backing into the protective circle 
with the others.  
	"Crap," Miharu coughed, spitting out sand.  "They're getting 
smarter."
	One of the cherubs howled, and the group began to move slowly 
towards the ice bridge.  Hooze tried to put up a series of paper 
shields to stop them, but as they reached each one, it fizzled into 
non-existence.  
	"How did you beat the one eighty years ago?" Michael asked 
Gabriel. 
	"Lots of arrows," Gabriel said with a frown.  "We used our entire 
supply of quicksilver to do it."
	Chris tried to slash away at their legs, but they countered and 
blocked too quickly.  Even when he scored a lucky hit to their claws 
and cut one off, they counterattacked with whatever they had left 
before he could inflict serious damage on them.  
	"It's like fighting a tank," Jupiter grumbled, watching another 
of her massive lighting strikes fizzle into nothing but a layer of ash 
on their backs.  
	"Tanks are easier," Chris informed her with a smile. 
	Michael's frustration finally won out and he took to the air.  
"Cover me!  I'm going in!"
	"Make a hole for me!" Chris said, rushing in as well.  
	Hooze and Pluto attacked simultaneously, this time with a Stone 
and a normal Dead Scream whisper.  Even with the dampening effect the 
center cherub was putting out, the attacks were large enough to blast 
two of them apart.  Jupiter and Venus blasted the necks and chests of 
the cherubs who looked up to attack Michael, and Miharu lashed out with 
a powerful slash of dark-blue lightning that took off one of their arms 
before it could find Michael's leg.  
	Michael landed on the mage-killer Aszap's back, but his sword 
deflected off of the Cherub's mask as he brought it down.  It snickered 
at him evilly as the others turned to rip him apart.  Chris dodged 
through the startled Aszaps and leapt up, grabbing Michael and pulling 
him free as they all turned to attack him.  
	The two Knights landed easily with a roll, and Michael pulled his 
sword around, ready to charge back in before Fiss caught his arm and 
held him back.  "You sons of BITCHES!  In the name of Heaven, I will 
STRIKE YOU DOW-"

	The cherub's back exploded.

	There was a thundering crack a moment later and everyone held 
their ears in surprise.  The mage-killer Aszap looked clearly shocked, 
though it still stood without half its body in place.  Before they 
could determine what had happened, though, one of the cherubs charged, 
leaping over the Senshi and ignoring the screaming people who it nearly 
crushed to death.  
	Across the field, on a cliff-face overlooking the battle, a shiny 
white metal object glistened in the sun.  Miharu's eyes went wide.  "A 
Scout!" she gasped, pointing.  
	Chris turned to her.  "What do you mean?"
	"The mecha!" Hooze gasped.  "But it's still in prototype!  Who 
has training to use it?"
	
	"Hurry!!" Danielle screamed up at Jimmy.  "One of them is coming 
over now!  It spotted us!"
	Jimmy ignored her outright, laying down in the cockpit's 
specialized seat and looking at the group through the massive 
computerized scope.  "Gravity adjust, three percent," he ordered to the 
controls.  "Recalibrate."
	The humanoid robotic-shell around him responded instantly, and it 
moved the massive sniping rifle forward an inch before hydraulic legs 
locked into place and steadied the barrel.  
	"This thing doesn't have armour," Jimmy mentioned loudly as he 
prepared a second round.  "Which one do you want me to take out?"
	Thomas and the others pulled out their swords.  "Take care of the 
one the Senshi are fighting.  Finish it.  We'll hold this one off until 
you can reload."
	"ROUND TWO!  LAUNCH!" Jimmy shouted, and the cannon let loose 
with a massive jet of fire once more.  

	Down below, the mage-killer's head exploded, accompanied by the 
massive shockwave a moment later.  The Senshi wasted no time.
	"DEAD SCREAM!" Pluto shouted as Hooze threw up more shields.  
This time, nether of their attacks fizzled.  The ball of purple light 
slammed into one of the cherubs and unceremoniously popped it like a 
balloon.  Blood showered the others who tried in vain to run away.  
They collided with the Paper shields, and only one got through as it 
ran past Michael.  
	Miharu jumped past another's reach and slit its neck open.  When 
it turned to retaliate, Michael's blade splattered its skull like a 
baseball bat hitting a watermelon.  
	Chris ran after the last one, bringing down his sword on its 
rump.  The resulting energy blast sliced it's head in two.  Both 
awkward chunks stumbled to the ground a moment later and were still.  
	
	Back up on the hill, Danielle, Beast, Ian, Thomas and Barlow 
attacked the cherub all at once.  Ian's sword slashed open its chest as 
Barlow cleaved off its right legs as he ran past.
	Thomas blocked the massive claws with his sword as the thing 
tried to grapple with him, then turned to Beast and Danielle.  
"Danielle!  Rot its head!  Beast, finish it off!"
	Danielle nodded, taking a few steps back and aiming her tonfa 
carefully as Barlow and Thomas continued slashing away at it as it 
hobbled on two legs.  Ian grabbed Thomas and healed a lucky slash to 
his forehead from the cherub.  
	Then, the monster began to shudder as a black-green spot appeared 
on the side of its head.  Puss and ooze began to flow out of the area, 
and it screamed in pain. 
	Beast charged and thrust his pike into the wound, bypassing the 
tough bone of its skull.  The Aszap shuddered violently and swung Beast 
into the air, but Barlow managed to use his powers to soften the dirt 
they landed on.  
	"Is everyone OK?" Thomas asked, looking at his team with nervous 
eyes.
	Another blast occurred as Jimmy tried to hit a cherub further 
away.  "I need to get closer to help!" he shouted.  "This thing is 
inaccurate at two kilometres!"
	"We're all fine," Ian said gratefully as they pulled Thomas and 
Beast up from the soft, spongy ground.  
	Barlow was already doing a victory dance.  "YEAH!  DID YOU SEE 
THAT!  WE KICKED ITS ASS!"
	"A little help here!" Jimmy sighed.  "Kids."
	"Oh, sorry, right!" Barlow laughed, running over to the mecha to 
help Jimmy un-strap himself from the harness.  	
	Beast and Ian ran over to assist, while Danielle stayed with 
Thomas.  "Are you okay?" he asked.
	Danielle just smiled.  "Thank you," she said. 
	"What for?" he asked.
	"I felt useful," Danielle said, turning slightly pink.  "I didn't 
think I could do that."
	"Well," Thomas smiled, "I knew you could do it."
	She turned away, now fully embarrassed.  "Thanks."
	"Wait!  Guys!"  Jimmy shouted. "Something else is coming in!  
Five o'clock high!  Real high!"
	Their eyes turned upwards to where three more tiny Aszaps were 
flying.  The Missionaries then ran over to see what the computer-aided 
view looked like.  "I think they're more cherubs, but..." Ian shook his 
head.  "They look strange."
	
	On the screen, three tiny, white, bony bodies flew towards the 
Senshi.  Their shrivelled faces were unmasked, showing tiny, baby-like 
looks of rage.  As their tiny wings flapped, however, the screen would 
flicker, and they saw ghostly images of something much more demonic-
looking until the image righted itself.  
	"What the hell are they?" Barlow asked, looking up into the air 
with his eyeless sight.  "My God...they're kicking off a shit-load of 
power."
	"How much is a shit-load?" Thomas asked.
	Barlow turned to Thomas.  "Try twenty of what we just fought."
	Danielle gasped.  "We have to help!"
	Beast shook his head.  "I doubt we would be very effective," he 
said, turning to Jimmy.  "In fact, I suggest we find cover in case they 
realize it was us that killed one of their fathers."
	"Is that why they look so angry?" Ian asked.
	Beast nodded, then turned to Thomas.  "We should go.  Now."
	Nobody argued as Jimmy stood up in the massive exoskeleton and 
they moved back behind the hill to watch.

	Caustic-smelling smoke was now wafting over the battle from the 
burning machinery and flesh at the line.  Still, the line held thanks 
to the US Mecha corps, and those who were not pilots had started to 
pick off Cherubs and Eden's Will alike with a combination of rocket 
launchers and personal arms fire.  
	People were rushing through the battlefield now, desperate to get 
to safety.  Yamato and the cherubs made sure the bridge was whole and 
nobody fell off, but the pace was frantic and more than a few people 
fell into the water to be rescued by the cherubs a few moments later.  
	"Sailor Senshi!" Pluto shouted, pointing to the sky.  "Incoming!"
	They prepared themselves for another round of massive Bull 
Aszaps.  When three tiny, sick-looking Aszaps dropped down from the sky 
and landed with clumsy little bounces, everyone did a double take.  
	"What are they?" Hooze asked her brother, then readied her fists 
when she saw the horrified look on his face. 
	Michael, Gabriel, and even Famiel, who was nursing his wounds off 
to the side, all looked absolutely terrified.  A wave of heat flooded 
over the group as the three tiny baby cherubs turned their wrinkled 
little heads towards them.  

	The screech was unbearable.  

	Michael knew, at that moment, that the Noize was not nearly as 
horrible as it could have been.  The sound he was hearing now could 
have been mixed into the Noize and made it worse.  Anyone who hadn't 
heard the cherubs' cry before all kneeled down, clutching their heads 
in pain.  
	Beavis fell unconscious from the mental impact of it, and Famiel 
caught him, quickly turning his back and raising his wings in hopes of 
shielding the tiny animal.
	"It's Tambre," Chris whispered to himself.  "Holy mother of Jolt 
Cola...they're from Tambre."
	SkitZ tried to counter the screaming with his sword, but only 
succeeded in making the sound warble.  "STOP THAT!" Hooze shouted, then 
turned to Venus and Pluto.  "Come on!  We're not as sensitive to it!"
	Indeed, everyone with wings seemed to be unable to act, even 
though Michael and Chris were trying to use their blades.  Gabriel 
looked ready to pass out, and even several people nearby trying to 
cross the ice-bridge began to stumble and scream in pain.  Every single 
cherub of Michael's began to cry out in horror, holding their tiny ears 
and flying about randomly, trying to escape the sound.  Several bashed 
into each other or the escaping people, causing even more confusion and 
chaos. 
	Then, the sound lessened as one of the tiny Aszap turned to the 
crowd.  Hooze gasped and threw up a Paper shield in front of it, but 
the blast of heat melted through it like it didn't even exist.  Pure, 
white, angry heat flooded the beach, and screams renewed their vigour 
as a hundred souls were turned into ash.  Several more escaped but 
suffered terrible burns on their bodies.  Those who were lit on fire 
dove into the bay, but many of their burns didn't seem to stop and they 
drowned when their limbs could do nothing but twitch.
	Miharu tackled Gabriel out of the way as another blast of heat 
lashed out at the group.  This one was much more focused, but far more 
powerful.  It continued through the group and melted two of the US 
mecha providing cover down the beach.  
	"Venus Love-Me-Chain!" Minako shouted, lashing out at the last 
cherub's legs.  She pulled on the magical chain hard, and the tiny 
animal found its beam of heat blasting into it's older brother a moment 
later.  
	The tiny cherub turned white-hot and its scream was now 
interspersed with a gurgling howl.  "GET DOWN!" Gabriel shouted, 
drawing Theban in the air to create a shield over the group.
	A flash of white light filled the sky and giant cracks appeared 
in the shield as the cherub exploded.  Even with the magic in place, 
they were all thrown back down the beach an incredible speed.  The 
shield flickered and failed, and it was only thanks to both Michael and 
Fiss casting their own that they survived the shockwave.  
	As they picked themselves up from the smouldering sand around 
them, the smoke cleared to reveal the other two baby Aszaps, stomping 
their tiny hooves and running after them.  
	"Holy shit!" Michael coughed.  
	"No time for jokes about religion," Gabe shouted over to him.  
"Hooze, you and I will create shields.  Everyone else, take out the 
youngest one first!"
	"What do you mean?" Venus gasped. 
	"It's the most powerful," Gabe explained.  "Take it out now 
before we're all killed!"
	"I got it!" Jupiter shouted, running forward.  "Cover me!"
	Chris turned to Miharu.  "Let's take out the middle one."
	"Right!" she nodded, and they rolled to their feet.  "COBALT!" 
she shouted, raising her sword.  "ATTACK!"
	"FISS!" Chris yelled, pushing both his disk and his sword's 
energy along the blade at the tiny cherub.  
	It screamed out in anger, dodging Chris' blast, but Miharu's 
arrived a moment later and slashed its body open.  Like its father, the 
cherub kept moving, and lashed out at Chris with a heat-beam like one 
that had killed the largest baby Aszap.  
	Fiss caught the bulk of the blast with his wings, but rolled in 
mid-air and started to deflect the beam with his sword.  A great 
rumbling filled the air as Chris managed to reflect it back at the tiny 
monster. "MIKE! GET READY TO SEAL IT!" 
	The cherub was bathed in its own heat attack as SkitZ flew up 
into the air, casting layer after layer of Theban with his sword.  Gabe 
gasped.  "Michael!!  What are you doing!?!"
	"Trying something else!" he shouted, just as the cherub turned 
white and bloated with energy.  
	If disappeared a moment later, and everyone gasped, looking 
around and covering their faces.  "Where is it?" Miharu asked. 
	The explosion rocked the sky from hundreds of feet above, and 
Michael landed in a heap as the shockwave threw them all to the ground.  
"Gate spell," he coughed, pointing up at the blast.  
	Gabe looked up in horror.  The blast was easily twice as large as 
the first one.  "Wait!" she shouted, running over to where Jupiter was 
readying her attack.  "It's too powerful!" she shouted.  "We'll all die 
in the blast!"
	"Not if I channel it into electricity!" Jupiter shouted back as 
her body began to crackle with static.  
	The tiny cherub hissed and growled at her, taking steps back as 
lightning began to strike the ground around them.  
	Tiny wings began to flutter.  "Shit," Fiss said, standing back up 
from the previous blast.  "It's going to dive bomb us!"  
	Hooze readied her key staff as she cast Paper over and over 
again, trying to build a dome around them as fast as she could while 
the cherub flew up and high into the air.  "I need some help here!" she 
shouted. 
	Gabe rushed back over to Michael, pulling his head out of the 
sand he landed in.  "You," she said, "remember what we talked about!"
	Michael's eyes went wide and he tried to grab her as she ran for 
Jupiter.  "Gabe!  Wait!"
	Fiss was busy drawing High Theban to try to fortify his sister's 
spells.  "Everyone!  Get back here!  Under the dome now!!"
	Miharu turned to Venus.  "Get ready to use the chain.  We can 
bring them back at the last second."
	Venus nodded, but tears welling up in her eyes as she guessed 
what her friend was doing.  "Makoto!  Get back here!  Don't you dare 
stay out there!"
	The baby Aszap reached the height of its arch, then began to 
spiral back down towards the group, screeching as it went.  
	Gabriel slid to a stop next to Jupiter.  "Get out of here!  Back 
under the shield, now!"
	"You can't stop it by yourself," Makoto said.  
	"NOW!!" Gabe growled, raising her hand to the sky, only to turn 
and watch her own arms become dust before it could draw the shield 
script.
	The cherub lashed out at the last second with a massive ray of 
heat.  All the Senshi and angels watched in horror as both of them were 
turned into ash from the head down.  Sailor Jupiter and Gabriel Bikko 
were wiped out in a blink of the eye.
	"NO!" everyone screamed, watching the cherub continue down and 
smash itself into the ground.

	In the split second that it took, Setsuna turned to Michael and 
smiled.  His eyes went wide as she spun around and raised her key to 
the heavens.  

	"PLUTO," she cried out, "DEAD STOP!"





	***





	Everything was silent.  Frozen, as Setsuna opened her eyes.  She 
could see the surprised look on Hooze's face.  The horrified look on 
Michael's as he reached in vain to grab her.  Fiss was drawing one last 
character of Theban.  Venus and Miharu were still watching where their 
friends had just been standing, a scream frozen on both their faces.
	Her staff was suspended in mid air where she had been holding it.  
Very slowly, a ghostly clock-face appeared around it, and used the Key 
of Time as a 'seconds' hand.  
	"Three seconds," she whispered to herself.  "Maybe four."
	She kept her hand on her key, but turned to face Hooze, who was 
busy trying to cast another spell of Paper. 
	"I know you'll hear me after it starts again," she whispered 
fondly to her younger sister.  "I love you so much, and you've already 
lost so much to this battle.  I hate to leave you, but I know you can 
handle things."
	Setsuna smiled up at the ghostly white clock above her, raised 
her other arm, and very gently began to pull the staff back three 
seconds.  The world shuddered and began rolling backwards like an 
ancient film reel told to go against its gears.  After looking up out 
over the scene once more, she saw that another would be needed.  She 
closed her eyes, and very, very slowly, began nudging the time back one 
more tick. 
	Then, as the world seemed to grow shaky and unfocused, she risked 
one more second.  And stopped.  
	Peering back over to the scene, she could see Gabriel in place, 
ready to use her power, but she was still arguing with Jupiter.  The 
cherub had not yet used its devastating blast, and she could even see 
herself, standing where she had been almost six seconds ago.  
	"Pluto," she whispered in the silent world that was between time, 
"Salvation Review.  Mark!"

	Time began to inch forward.  

	She left her key behind, floating in mid air, and bolted towards 
Sailor Jupiter as fast as she could.  A bright flash appeared overhead 
as the last baby cherub lit up with heat.  Grabbing her seemed to take 
forever, and pulling her with enough momentum to throw her behind the 
shield made every muscle in her body ache as she fought against her own 
spell.  
	Time was speeding up again.  Slowly, but she could feel it.  
"Five seconds," she whispered to herself, digging her heels into the 
sand.  Then, she leaned forward to Gabriel to whisper in her ear.  "I 
know you're awake.  That you can hear me," she said.  "We have only one 
chance.  Funnel all of the heat to me.  If you understand, blink in the 
next two seconds."
	To her relief, Gabriel's eyes opened wide with realization, and 
then began to close rapidly with the smallest of nods.  
	Two seconds left, she estimated, raising her hands above her as 
Gabriel began drawing rapidly in mid air with her fingers.  Even with 
time itself slowed down, the Word seemed to act upon the Knight and 
force her hands to move faster than was possible.  
	
	Then, time snapped back into place, and it all happened in a 
rush.  




	***




	"PLUTO!" she cried, arms pointed at the massive ray of light 
above them, "DEAD SCREAM!" 
	She finished the incantation just as Gabriel finished her own 
spell.  A giant, cone-shaped wall of white light leapt up from her 
fingertips, capturing all the terrible heat from the final Aszap.  The 
light began to crack and weaken as it tried to contain the power, but 
did as Pluto had asked, focusing the wild energy into a point below.  
	The purple blast of light from Pluto leapt up through the gap in 
Gabriel's shield, pushing up against the wall of heat as it threatened 
to bear down on her.  
	Gabriel saw that the heat kept rolling behind the ball, however, 
and in the last moment she could, jumped onto Setsuna, shielding the 
Senshi with her angel wings. 
	Setsuna watched her Dead Scream rip upwards, through the heat 
ray, and into the Aszap itself.  The explosion backwashed vertically, 
devouring what little of Gabe's shield still existed.  And even though 
the wave of heat continued downwards onto them, she smiled.  The 
children would survive this time.  
	Fiss completed their shield as everyone watched the explosion 
take on a spire-shape, slamming down on the two women outside, but also 
skyrocketing upwards instead of outward into the crowd.
	Jupiter scrambled to her feet, watching the pillar of fire as it 
raged.  "NO!  GOD DAMMIT!" she cried, pounding her fist on the energy 
shield in front of her.  "Pluto!  PLUTO!"
	Andrea's gaze was locked on where her sister and Gabriel had 
been, hoping...praying that they were okay.
	Fiss waited only one second longer than it took for the heat to 
stop cooking the sand around them before dispelling the shield.  
Jupiter and Hooze stumbled forward in shock seeing the smoking crater 
where the blast had occurred.  
	
	Two bodies were still inside. 

	"GET SOMEONE OVER HERE!  NOW!" Hooze shouted to the cherubs, who 
came running and flying as quickly as they could.  
	Michael turned away when he saw Gabe.  Her back was completely 
charred, and only the skeletal fingers of her old, glorious wings were 
left on her back. 
	Minako held Makoto back as the SkitZ cherubs ran into the crater, 
searching for life.  Chris and Hooze watched from the rim, waiting for 
the word.  "This can't be happening," Hooze whispered to her brother.  
	The tiny cherubs managed to free Gabriel from Setsuna's body.  
Neither was breathing.  Heat blisters covered their skin, but their 
faces were both serenely happy.   
	"No...Setsuna, Gabe, please..." Michael let out a stifled sob as 
one of the cherubs turned to him and shook his tiny head.  

	They're gone.











Chapter 48










	There was a soft knock on the door and the girl jumped.  Marish 
laughed quietly and stood from her desk.  "You're so tense," she said 
softly.  "Don't worry.  Nothing bad is going to happen to you."
	The girl couldn't respond with the gag in her mouth but did not 
look convinced of Marish' statement.  Of course, being chained to the 
bed like that was bound to affect how much she trusted Marish.  
	Ignoring the girl for now, Marish walked over to the door and 
opened it.  One of the brown-robed servants was there, bowing and 
holding up a small piece of parchment.  Marish took it and smiled.  
"Thank you, you may leave."
	With another bow, the servant quickly walked off down the hall.  
Before Marish closed the door, however, she saw the glowing white light 
of one of the Aszaps, waiting just around the corner.  
	"She's not ready yet," Marish whispered angrily.  "Wait in the 
main room."  She heard a disgruntled snuffle as the cherub turned and 
trotted off down the hall.  They were so impatient lately.  She 
returned to her chambers and locked the door with a glyph she knew the 
Aszaps could not pass.  
	"Ahh, much better," she smiled to the girl, who obviously did not 
think things were better.  "Pardon me for a moment.  It's so wonderful 
to receive news from the battle, don't you think?  So exciting!"
	The girl began crying.  It was just barely audible behind her 
gag, and Marish was used to it, so she ignored it and read her letter.  
As she read, she absentmindedly began to gather items on her desk.  
	It was not going well for the Volunteer Army, it seemed.  Even 
against nearly one hundred of her Aszap warriors.  The Cities of SkitZ 
and Fiss seemed to have giant metal golems in their employ.   She 
wondered how to go about capturing one, but resolved that such a task 
could be accomplished later on after the danger of the war was over.  
	Basst's letter pleaded her to send reinforcements.  He offered 
nearly double the gold of their original contract, but Marish sighed.  
There would be no more reinforcements.  She had watched that man 
squander her gifts away on badly planned raids and sneak attacks that 
any Knight would have no problem repelling.  She had warned him not to 
use the Aszaps until the end.  
	The gold was still very tempting, though, and Marish wondered for 
a moment if her remaining three Bulls were worth risking for the money.  
They had performed incredibly well...and the children.  Lord!  The 
children had been incredible!  Such power!  
	No, she decided, crumpling up the letter with a final sigh.  
Capturing and training the massive beasts had been difficult and time 
consuming.  It would take years before she could begin her experiments 
again if her stock was lost.  
	Instead, she turned her attentions to her new formula.  The young 
girl on her bed still smelled pleasantly of the herbal bath she had 
been made to soak in for seven days.  Her skin was so smooth and plump 
with moisture that it glowed in the warm, evening sunlight still coming 
in from the windows above.  
	Marish turned back to her desk, where a deep mortar bowl was 
already full of a sweet-smelling orange leaf and several smaller nuts 
and berries.  Reaching over to a pouch on the desk, she retrieved a 
generous handful of ashy powder and poured it in.  The smell instantly 
turned bitter.  She pulled a pestle from a rack next to her and began 
to mix the ingredients into a dry paste, humming a lullaby as she 
worked.  
	The smell slowly became sweet again, and the girl on the bed 
calmed down due to fatigue and the humming in the air.  "Would you like 
me to take off the cloth?" Marish asked quietly.
	She hesitated for a moment, confused.  Finally, though, the girl 
nodded.  
	Marish wiped her hands on a nearby cloth, then stood and walked 
over to the girl, untying the gag slowly, testing to see if she'd begin 
to scream.  
	"What are you going to do to me?" the girl asked, shivering 
suddenly as Marish sat down next to her on the bed.  
	"Didn't your parents tell you?" Marish asked, as if surprised by 
the question.  
	The girl looked confused, then shook her head.  "No!  I was in 
the market and then suddenly, these men came up and grabbed me!"
	Marish laughed easily and shook her head, gently running her hand 
though the girl's long, red hair.  "Oh my!  You must have been so 
frightened!"
	She nodded quickly.  "Can...can I have my clothes back now, 
please?"
	"Are you cold?" 
	"N-no, but...I would like to have my clothes back," she said, 
trying not to beg but failing just ever so slightly.  
	Marish shook her head.  "I can't give them back to you just yet.  
You see, the prince wishes to see his future wife, and it is custom to 
dress you with the finest robes.  They won't be ready for some time."
	"Prince?" the girl blinked.  "What do you mean?"
	Marish smiled brightly.  "Oh my!  You silly girl, do you mean to 
say I haven't told you yet?"
	She shook her head reluctantly. 
	"You are to be our new princess!" Marish said, bowing her head 
dramatically.  "My goodness!  I should have been calling you 'your 
highness', not 'silly girl'!"
	"But-" the girl said, looking at the chains, "I'm only fourteen!  
I'm betrothed to Jarrett down the street!  I can't be a princess!"
	Marish's smile faded into a stern smirk, and she stood to walk 
back over to her desk.  "But you haven't seen the prince.  How can you 
be so sure?"
	The girl was growing more frantic now, pulling at the chains 
around her.  "I can't!  No!  Why are you doing this to me?  I don't 
want to be a princess!"
	Something inside Marish snapped.  She stormed over to the girl 
and slapped her on the face as hard as she could.  The girl froze, 
tears welling up in her eyes, but terror kept them from falling.  
	"The first thing," Marish whispered hoarsely, "a princess must 
learn is obedience.  She is at the mercy of her people, you see.  You 
must be ready to do whatever is necessary to protect them.  Do you 
understand?"
	A very tiny nod escaped the girl as a bruise formed on her cheek.  
	"Very good," Marish smiled brightly.  "Now, don't let me scare 
you with talk of obeying and duty."  She winked.  "Being a princess can 
be lots of fun as well.  For instance," she leaned forward and gently 
kissed the girl on the cheek.  
	The girl let out a small, terrified sob, and Marish pulled away, 
her brow tightening into anger.  
	"You are about to be given an incredible gift," the woman said.  
"Why are you so timid?"
	"I'm scared," the girl cried.  "I want to go home!"
	"It doesn't have to be scary," Marish said, leaning over the 
girl, who just started struggling more.  She kissed the girl again, 
this time on the lips, but the girl struggled and screamed.  
	Marish looked at the girl, who had been so perfect and desirable 
just moments ago.  She was now snivelling.  Sobbing and weak.  A grim 
smirk of satisfaction crossed her face as she stood and grabbed the 
mortar and pestle from her desk.  
	"Very well," she said, placing the bowl next to the girl's head.  
"If you do not want to be loved like a princess, then you will be 
tossed to the animals.  I can assure you they will not be nearly as 
gentle with you as I would be."
	The girl screamed as Marish began unchaining her legs, suddenly 
imagining the possibilities outside the door.  She had heard the Aszaps 
at night, snuffling around and screeching.  She knew they were waiting 
for her.  
	"No!" she cried as Marish released her legs and dropped the 
chains off to the side of the bed.  "No, wait!" 
	Marish paused, turning to the girl.  "What is it?"
	The girl was terrified.  She forced her tears to stop and put on 
the faintest, shaking smile.  "I...I would like to be a princess."
	"Very good," Marish said, sliding back down onto the girl, 
admiring the young one's self control as she didn't jump or cry out 
when she was touched.  "But I'm not so sure the prince will like you 
anymore," she sighed mockingly.
	"Wait!" the girl burst out.  "I-I'm sure he would!"
	Marish looked up from the girl's chest to her frightened face.  
"If you would like, I could help you.  The prince is very demanding.  
You will need to prepare for him."
	Despite her entire body shivering in disgust, the girl nodded 
quickly before her tears came back.  "I would be in your debt," she 
whimpered.
	Marish smiled and reached over to the pestle and pulled it up to 
her mouth, gently wetting it with her tongue.  The girl watched with 
morbid shock as she then dipped it in the powder and brought it up to 
her lips.  "First, you must help me prepare the ointment," Marish 
explained.
	The girl nodded slowly, then timidly stuck out her tongue, still 
shaking violently.
	She laughed at the girl's reaction, then shook her head.  "No, my 
dear princess," Marish explained, slowly lowering the stone tool to her 
breasts, then tracing it lower to the girl's stomach before she had to 
move out of the way.  "It's not for your mouth," she said, enjoying the 
shock on her captive's face as she forced the object between her legs.  
	The girl cried out in pain as the powder burned her, but Marish 
silenced her with a deep, forceful kiss.  
	"Now," she sighed contently, watching the tears roll down the 
girl's freckled cheeks.  "Princess, you must not resist me," she cooed 
into the girl's ear.  "If you do...they're waiting just down the hall."
	The girl bit her lip to keep from crying, and very slowly, 
nodded.  
	"That's a good princess," Marish whispered, pulling out the stone 
pestle and rolling it around in the powder to retrieve more of the 
bitter-sweet mush.  "Remember," she said, "you are about to receive a 
great gift.  A princess should enjoy it."











Chapter 49











	As the sun began falling in its arch across the sky, the battle 
was clearly won.  Dozens of dead Aszaps lay across the field, and the 
handful of the Eden's Will that were still alive were now in quick 
retreat.  
	Most of the City of Fiss was now across the bridge, though as 
they passed the final portion of the beach, a growing number of people 
started to linger to pay their respects.  
	Nearly the entire complement of SkitZ cherubim were arranged on 
the beach now.  Gabriel's lieutenants and Archangels came out to 
observe the sombre occasion.  Cassiel stood to the side, watching with 
her butterfly wings wrapped around herself for warmth in the cool 
summer evening.  Cupid was on his leash and stayed quiet.  He never 
made a sound, even when he saw Miharu. 
	Hooze was still sitting next to Pluto's body, which had been 
wrapped up with a white sheet.  She stared out at the sun as it made 
its way to set and barely moved from that spot as the cherubs prayed 
around them.  Next to her lay both staves of Time, combined into their 
whole form.  It had felt too strange to hold just yet.  Instead, her 
hand was still entwined with her sister's, keeping her company she 
hoped. 
	Chris and Michael were perched on top of one of the destroyed US 
Mecha, and an unlit smoke hung loosely from SkitZ' mouth.  He couldn't 
bear to look at the bodies any more.  Famiel had taken Beavis across 
already so the doctors could take care of them both.
	Mina and Makoto were off to the side with Miharu, who was trying 
hard to put on a strong face for the two.  Minako had a strangely 
distant look on her face, while Makoto was doing everything in her 
power not to break down sobbing again.  
	"Thomas," Miharu said as she sensed footsteps coming closer.  
	"Miharu," the man nodded.  The rest of the Missionaries stood 
back by their mecha, watching over the last few hundred people as they 
crossed the bridge.
	She turned to him and smiled sadly.  "Thanks for coming."
	He bowed his head.  "Sorry we couldn't do more."
	"Don't be," she shook her head, then turned to Hooze.  "We should 
take her back."
	Andrea nodded weakly.  "Alright.  Yeah.  Let's get out of here," 
she said quietly.  A dozen cherubs took to the grave task of carrying 
Setsuna's body once the younger Sister of Time finally forced herself 
to let go.  
	"Go with them, please," Miharu said.  "I am entrusting their 
personal safety to you.  Is that clear?"
	Thomas saluted quickly and then turned to the team.  
"Missionaries!  We're moving out!"
	Miharu then walked over to the two inner Senshi.  "Jupiter-san.  
Venus-san.  Please go with the escort."
	Minako nodded coldly and helped Makoto up to her feet.  "Thank 
you."
	Makoto cried and captured Miharu in a sobbing hug.  "It's all my 
fault-" she whispered.  "I shouldn't have been so stupid."
	"It wasn't your fault," Miharu said, voice cracking.  "Please, 
Makoto-san.  We all did our duty as Senshi.  Many people will have a 
new life because of the sacrifices today."
	Jupiter nodded slowly, still crying.  "You're right...yeah, yeah.  
You're right," she said, wiping her eyes with her hands.  "When did you 
get so smart, Miharu-chan?"
	Miharu couldn't answer due to the lump in her throat.  
	"Let's go," Venus whispered, taking her friend by the arm.  They 
walked off together, and followed rank in front of Jimmy in the mecha.  
Nathan and Yamato were still on the bridge and helped guide the group 
across to the safety of the City.
	A loud horn was sounded somewhere on the field, and a great cheer 
came up from the crowd.  Fiss felt something in his stomach drop even 
lower.  "One more," he whispered to himself.
	Michael heard and nodded.  "We can take him."
	"No," Chris shook his head.  "I'll do it alone."
	Sure enough, a few minutes later, a grand precession of people 
began rolling in from the front lines.  Almost a dozen battered but 
moving US Mecha were still active, and even some who had fallen had 
relinquished their pilots safely.  It was a small bit of good news on 
the wind that was tainted by oil and blood.
	Riding high at the front of the pack on an army jeep was Battra, 
who had been given one of the commander's coats to wear.  Next to him, 
tied up and gagged, was Basst, who had tried to sneak off when the 
battle was clearly lost.  
	"ALL HAIL THE HOUSE OF FISS!" Battra bellowed from the jeep as 
they rolled in for a final stop.  "ALL HAIL THE US MECHA CORPS!"
	A great cheer rose up from the ranks as Chris jumped down from 
his perch, readying his sword.  "Stop this bullshit," he shouted at the 
mage.  
	The army commanders all looked confused, but Battra just chuckle.  
"Pardon me," he announced to the troops.  "I'm afraid I have a prior 
engagement.  Please, for your own safety, I recommend everyone move 
back."
	"Grandstanding motherfucker," SkitZ growled from his perch.  
"Cherubs!  He does not pass the line dead or alive!  Clear?"
	The hundreds of SkitZ cherubs lined up with their spears, 
guarding Gabe's body and the last few people who were staying to watch 
the fight.
	"Everyone else, get back," Chris shouted.  
	"Dad?" Miharu asked, running up to him.  "What's going on?"
	Fiss turned to her with a smile.  "Nothing, honey.  Just 
something we agreed on.  He helped kidnap Jess and Nathan."
	"You spin my involvement out of proportion, Lord Fiss," Battra 
called out over the distance between them.  "As you neglect to mention 
your very many sins."
	Fiss reached out and grabbed Miharu as she drew her blade.  
"Miharu.  No.  Get back."
	"Dad!" she grumbled.  "You can't just expect me to sit and watch 
him-"
	"NOW!" Chris shouted, startling her.  
	She slowly put her sword back, then nodded.  "Be careful," she 
said reluctantly.  
	He smiled at her.  "Make sure everyone gets back okay."
	She nodded and ran off.  The line of Cherubs let her through, 
then they closed to protect the people watching.  
	"So," Battra shrugged, taking off the coat he had borrowed and 
throwing it to the side.  "How would you like to do this?  I can start 
whenever you wish."
	"Michael!" Fiss shouted.  "Give us a tone."
	SkitZ nodded grimly and pulled his sword free.  "BEGIN!" he 
shouted, and a loud bell rang out over the field.  

	Chris' sword whipped through the air faster than any eyes could 
follow.  The blue slash was impossibly fast and impossibly exact as it 
slid through Battra and continued on, impacting into the rocks a mile 
behind them.  The rocks themselves exploded in a blue crackle of light.
	Nobody moved for a moment, but finally, Battra laughed and took a 
step forward.  "Shall I give you another try, Lord Fiss?"
	Before the mage had even finished the word 'Fiss', Fiss spun 
around and two more bolts flew harmlessly through Battra, who looked 
bored as the hills behind him suffered further damage.  "What the 
hell?" Chris asked himself, looking down at his sword.  
	"The pen," Battra announced, pulling his sleeves back and letting 
a dark red light flow through his scarred skin, "is mightier than the 
sword, Lord Fiss.  Surely you know of this!"
	Fiss readied himself as Battra drew script he didn't recognize in 
the air.  The red glyph sped towards him, then impacted in the ground, 
causing it to rumble for a moment.  Another glyph exploded up from the 
sand and rocketed into the sky, creating a massive storm-cloud 
overhead.  
	"I estimate it will take you at least ten seconds to reach me 
with that sword of yours," Battra laughed darkly.  "How many strikes of 
lightning can you survive, I wonder?"
	Fiss felt the hairs on the back of his head begin to stand on 
end, and he leapt forward, rolling out of the way of the first massive 
electrical column that would have turned him into toast.  He tried to 
use the pause in attacks to draw his own Theban, but before he could 
finish, two more bolts forced him to the side, then back.  
	"Fine, you want to dance?" Chris growled, waiting for the next 
bolt.  
	It lashed down at him, and he ran forward, leaping past each one 
as it just narrowly missed his feathers or feet.  When the bolts began 
to combine, Fiss stopped and jumped into the air, letting one wing go 
high and one low.  The electricity flowed through the feathers and down 
to the ground without much more than a blackened wing-tip, and he hit 
the ground running once again. 
	Battra seemed confused by the counter to his spell, but did not 
move, confident that Fiss' charge was futile.  "It's been fun, Lord 
Fiss, but I think you're ill-equipped for this fight."
	Fiss moved in and out of the lightning strikes, doubling back to 
gain footing, then rushing forward as the electricity tried to follow 
him backwards.  Finally he made the last two steps, roared and spun his 
sword around at the mage. 

	The blade passed right through him.  

	Battra laughed as Fiss fell forward, and his wings caught the 
next lightning strike in time for him not to be fried by it.  
"Fucking...ILLUSION!" Chris roared, feeling the hairs on the back of 
his neck standing up again.  He spun his body around, and his sword 
smashed into something solid.  
	A ruby-like shield hovered in mid air behind him, cracking from 
the cut.  As it fell away, Battra stood inside with an surprised look 
on his face.  "Impressive," he mumbled.  "I can see why you lasted so 
long without your armies to protect you."
	Chris swung again, but Battra's shield turned into mist and he 
ducked under the blade.  Battra snapped his fingers, and a solid ruby 
block appeared once more, blocking a fatal strike easily.  Then, as 
Fiss tried to jump over the shield, he drew another symbol, this time 
very obviously Theban for 'Cut'.  
	He pulled himself up into the sky with his wings, but the symbol 
flew up after him.  It slashed into his back, drawing a surprising 
amount of blood as the Knight fell out of the sky, unable to use his 
wings anymore.  They folded up into his coat after several of the 
delicate bones within were broken from the fall.  
	"When I asked you about the book," Battra said, drawing something 
along his arm, "you told me you destroyed it with fire.  Did you do it 
because of convenience?  I can't imagine you wouldn't have suffered a 
bit of pain in order to reach the next level of power."
	Chris crawled to his feet painfully, leaning on his sword as 
Battra came closer.  Then, an idea came to him and he began drawing a 
Ni.  It took only a moment, and the tiny face-thing quickly began to 
replicate itself by diving back into the sand where so many had died.  
	"Interesting," Battra said, watching the small army of creatures 
grow in a matter of seconds.
	Without a word, Fiss and the Ni charged at Battra.  Battra's left 
arm lit up with a bright red flash, and he cast a massive funnel of 
fire into the air.  It vaporized most of the Ni, then curved around and 
chased after Fiss.  
	Chris wound his sword up for another attack, but the blue slash 
impacted on another of the ruby shields that Battra seemed to be able 
to summon effortlessly.  
	The force of the fire behind him tossed him into the shield 
itself, and he crumpled into it hard.  Only by turning and using his 
Fiss repulsion field was he not burnt alive in a terrifyingly similar 
death to his friends just hours earlier.  
	Battra spirited away the shield once the fire had faded, letting 
Chris fall backwards, prone.  With a simple wave of his hand, a dozen 
spears came down from the sky.  Chris rolled out of the way and slashed 
at one that got too close, though he was gasping for air now, covered 
with sweat and sand.  
	"Lord Fiss," Battra growled, raising his arms into the air.  
"Your stubbornness is becoming annoying.  I suggest you die quickly, 
before I start using spells that will not leave a body for your friends 
to mourn!"
	Chris braced himself wordlessly as Battra's body emitted a 
massive burst of power, throwing him back into the air.  As he landed, 
he skipped across the sand twice before finally crumpling into a ball.  
	"The book burns you," Battra said, walking towards the Knight.  
"Yes, it hurts.  Yes, it is horrifying when it happens.  But, like so 
much in the Word, it gives you power to do what is necessary.  You 
could not counter my shield unless you owned my blood, Lord Fiss!  It 
is a gift far more powerful and practical than your gaudy wings.   
Anything you try will simply skip off the Word itself!"
	Chris uncurled himself and threw something at Battra.  Battra 
couldn't dodge in time, so he threw up another blood-shield.  The tiny 
object bounced off and fell to the sand.

	A sharpie marker cap. 

	"You were right," Chris said with a smirk.  "The pen is mightier 
than the sword."
	Battra looked at the sharpie top, confused.  When he turned his 
attention back to Fiss, however, he saw black marks along the katana he 
carried.  "What is this?" Battra laughed.  "The Word CREATED Theban!  
Theban cannot break the Word!"
	"I'm not trying to break it," Chris huffed, throwing away the pen 
and readying his sword.  

	Along the length of his blade was a single character:  Skip.

	Battra took a step back as he realized what the command would do.  
As he tried to distance himself from Fiss, however, the remaining Ni 
attacked.
	He cried out in shock as their tiny teeth swarmed into him and 
ripped into his back and neck.  In a frantic wave of his hand, he 
encased himself in another blood-shield to stop the attacks, only to 
find himself trapped as Chris ran at him with his sword extended.
	The blade skipped past the blood-shield as if it didn't exist, 
just as he remembered the stone slipping through the surface of the 
water.  Battra's eyes went wide as the blade passed through his chest, 
and on the other side, blood sprayed out with the sword's passage.  
	Everyone watching was quiet as the mage's crystallized shield 
began to crumble, waiting to see what would happen next.  Battra was 
still alive, twitching slightly, trying to draw something else in the 
air in front of him as his mouth and chest turned into a fountain of 
blood.  
	"Looks like it's..." Chris readied his sword one last time, 
jumping at the man "...PARTY TIME!  FISS!" 

	This time, the blue slash of energy didn't miss.  

	Chris stood victorious over what was left of Battra, taking a 
moment to slash his blade through the air to rid it of the blood from 
the battle.  
	Someone screamed nearby, and he turned to see Basst's body 
shaking violently, and the three Mecha corps commanders running for 
dear life, thinking him to be a bomb.  Chris turned to Battra's body 
and smirked.  "Thanks," he said to the mage's shocked half-a-face.
	Everyone rushed up to Fiss as he walked over to Basst's shaking 
body.  He was already dead, but a series of Theban lines were appearing 
on his arm where Battra had touched him earlier.  
	"That was pretty cool, man," Michael said, laughing for the first 
time since the cherub attack.  
	Miharu hugged her dad.  "That was amazing!"
	"It's not over yet," he said quietly, pressing his thumb to the 
script on the body.  
	A map leapt up in mid air and began to detail the path to 
Marish's base in the Needle of Sheol.  
	"Jess is there?" Miharu asked. 
	"Yep," Fiss said grimly, noting the counter-spells to get through 
the defences.  
	"I'm coming with you," Miharu said.
	"No you're not," Chris said quickly.  
	"She's going with you," Nathan said, turning to Miharu.  "You two 
are the only ones who don't need a clip and a half to kill those 
fucking things, and you're not taking Michael."
	Michael glared at Nathan.  "Why the FUCK not?"
	Cass walked up to the group and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
"Because, we have a friend to pray for and bury."
	Michael's anger left him instantly.  
	"And it's Chris' fight," she continued.
	"Our fight," Miharu interrupted.  
	The Knight laughed and nodded.  "Exactly."
	Chris turned to Miharu.  "It may not be pretty."
	She shook her head.  "Jess needs our help, dad."
	He sighed, then nodded.  "Alright."
	"I'll bring a pair of riding dominions," Cassiel smiled, walking 
back over to the beach.  A dozen Ni followed, trying to look up her 
robes until Chris whistled and they dissolved into sand.  











Chapter 50











	Jesminder woke to the sound of crying.

	Instantly, she thought of Tambre, and when she opened her eyes, 
she swore she almost could see the woman there, chained to the wall 
like she had been at the beginning of this terrible nightmare.  
	As her eyes focused in the fading light, however, she realized 
this was a new girl.  Barely a teenager with mussed up red hair down to 
her shoulders and a skinny, naked body.  Across her stomach, symbols 
were drawn with a thick white paste that smelled...very suspiciously of 
sex.  
	"Hey," Jess whispered, startling the girl.  
	The girl turned to Jess, eyes blinking wide in surprise.  "Who 
are you?  I thought you were asleep.  I'm sorry...I didn't mean to wake 
you!"
	She sounded so terrified, to the point that she would be scared 
of a half-naked, beaten and starving woman chained by her wrists to a 
stone bench almost ten meters away.  
	"I'm Jesminder," she said quietly.  "A prisoner.  You?"
	The girl began crying anew.  "I'm Marcy," she said between sobs.  
"What's going to happen to me?"
	
	There was a sound at the door. 

	Both women froze as they saw light pouring in from the cracks.  
"Marish, you bitch," Jesminder grumbled as the cherub stepped through, 
peering around at the two with its masked face. 
	Marcy stopped crying suddenly, and Jess saw that the Aszap had 
now caught the girl firmly in its gaze.  A horrible feeling passed over 
her as she realized what she was about to witness.  Even worse, it 
pulled the memories she had of her own rape to the surface.  
	"NO!" Jess shouted, trying to regain Marcy's attention.  "No!  
Listen to me!  You have to wake up!  Fight back for God's sake!"
	The girl's head flopped around as if she was dreaming, and the 
Aszap came closer, ignoring Jess' cries outright.  
	"YOU SICK FUCKS!" Jess screamed, tears bursting forth.  "COME OUT 
HERE AND FACE ME!  Oh God, no!  No more!" she turned away as the 
monster reared up on its back legs, exposing itself to the naked girl 
only a few feet away.  She could feel the hot light from the thing's 
face spraying everywhere.  
	She was too busy screaming that she didn't notice someone come 
through the door.  
	"You bastards!" Jess cried as the beast pinned the girl down.  
The girl only giggled like she was dreaming of her teenaged sweetheart.  
"WAKE UP!  No!  You have to fight!"
	
	Crystal white blood splattered everywhere.  

	The Aszap never had a chance.  It had been so focused on its 
little conquest that both blades of Enceladus, held by Miharu and 
Christopher Fiss, ripped through its guts.  
	Jess cried out in surprise as the Aszap stumbled backwards.  
Miharu, with great pleasure, walked behind it and severed its genitalia 
with one sword-slash.  
	The thing screeched in pain and anger, rearing up to attack, but 
Fiss had already moved to put his sword up into its skull from below 
its jaw.  As it came back down, it impaled itself on the sword and went 
limp.  
	"Chris!" Jess gasped.
	They ran up to her and Chris' sword clattered to the ground 
forgotten as he hugged her tightly.  "I'm so sorry," he whispered as 
she cried against him.  "I tried finding you...I'm so sorry."
	She laughed, shaking her head as she hugged him back.  "Just tell 
me that they're all dead."
	Miharu nodded proudly, sheathing her sword.  "They are ALL dead."
	Jess let out a long, shuddering sigh, burying her face into 
Chris' coat.  "The girl," she said.  "Please get her out of here."
	"I'll do it," Miharu smiled softly, placing a hand on her 
father's shoulder.  "Take as long as you need."
	"Thanks," he said gratefully.  "You were right," he said.  "I'm 
glad you came."
	"Me too," she said, then bowed to Jess, who smiled.  "Miss 
Simrit," she beamed.  "A pleasure to see you again."
	"Thank you," Jess said, then they watched Miharu take the 
sleeping girl up into her arms and walk out with her.  
	
	They sat there for a long, long time.  

	Jess was perfectly content to stay like that for longer, but the 
smell of the cherub became noticeable once again.  "Jean is gone," she 
whispered.
	Chris looked around and found the camera that had been tossed off 
to the side during the days of misuse.  "Do you want me to-"
	"Yes," Jess nodded.  "Please.  It's important."
	He nodded and walked over to the camera.  It was cracked and 
damaged from a fall, but he found the memory chip intact and placed it 
in his pocket with his PDA.  
	"How did you find me?" Jess asked as he drew some Theban to 
destroy the chains on her wrists.  
	"A long story," he said.  "I'll tell you when we get back home."
	"Did..." her eyes filled up with tears again.  "Did everyone make 
it?"
	He smiled softly.  "Not everyone...but a lot of them did.  Nathan 
is okay too." 
	She laughed happily, and with her newly freed wrists, wrapped 
them around Fiss and hugged him tightly.  He pulled her up onto his leg 
and held her tightly as she sobbed.  It would all work out, he knew at 
that moment.  No matter what.  

	This was what he had been looking for.  This feeling. 

	Jess looked up at him with a wet smile.  "You look happy."
	"I'll be happier when we get home," Chris laughed, kissing her 
forehead.  
	Jess nodded, but then looked embarrassed.  "I don't know if I can 
walk."
	"I'll carry you," Chris promised, taking off his trench coat to 
wrap around her.  "Here.  Hold on-"

	"Azrael?"

	Jess froze at the voice, and Fiss knew instantly who it must have 
belonged to.  
	"Azrael," Marish whispered shyly.  "I knew you'd come back."
	Slowly, Fiss turned around, hand reaching to his sword.  
	"They told me you were dead," Marish slid closer, the brightest 
of smiles on her face.  "I knew it wasn't true.  I knew you'd have a 
plan to come back."
	Her smile faded as Fiss turned, eyes hidden by dark glasses.  His 
fingers found his sword and there was a long, metal-on-stone scrape off 
the stone floor as he pulled it up into his grip.  It was only then 
that she noticed the sword wounds in the dead cherub's body.   
	"What's wrong, Azrael?" she whispered, concern growing as the 
man's mouth slowly warped into a smirk.
	"Azrael?" Chris asked. 
	"Azrael," Marish frowned, "what are you doing?"
	Christopher cleared his throat and took a long, deep breath.  "In 
cheek of my copied claims both calm and concise," he said, standing 
slowly to his full height, "no certain ceasing in the conspicuous 
cycles to come seems clear."  
	Marish smiled nervously.  "I'm sorry?  What are you saying?"
	"Cry not," Fiss growled, startling her and forcing her to take a 
step back in shock, "for this chalky cloak-clad carbon copy of your 
cherished but crazed commander is not so conveniently crushed!  Each 
catch cast in my crosscut only crystallizes my courage to coach, 
communicate, converge and cram into cramped craniums the classic and 
complete case of comprehension!"
	Before Marish could respond, Fiss raised his sword.  Her eyes 
opened as wide as saucers when the tiny bit of sunlight streaming into 
the cave reflected off of the blade and scattered like a rainbow of 
colour.  
	"And so, au courant and complete, this cite of a cool creek 
Christ cabbie stands confident that the causatum of his ceaseless 
counsel will crack into this crawling crag of crap, capably carrying 
out the consummation of his craving to catch the correct clamour and 
call of his complete and correct cognomen!"
	"This isn't funny, Azrael," Marish said, eyeing the blade in his 
hand.  
	Jess watched with cold detachment as Chris walked towards the 
person responsible for the last month of her hell.  
	"Oh, calamity," Chris said, advancing on Marish.  "Comprehension 
still curtail, the catty criminal cunt still ceases to concentrate and 
catch my context!  But I circumlocute," he smiled politely, bowing.  
"You can call me, Chris."
	"Chris?" Marish asked, testing the word on her tongue.  
	"Finally," Chris smirked.  "Someone gets it right."
	"WAIT!" Marish gasped as the sword came down, clipping her heel 
as she dodged one second too slow.  
	Chris followed her easily as she tried to dodge behind chains and 
stone pillars.  "You've hurt my friends," he shouted.  "You've hurt 
innocent people.  And you've created the most hideous things I've ever 
had the dubious pleasure to kill.  I won't forgive you!" 
	His sword smashed through the pillar she dodged behind, and in 
desperation, she threw up what looked like a blood shield like Battra 
had used.  "WAIT!" she cried out as his sword lodged into the glass-
like plane of force.  "Azr-I mean, Chris!  I love you!  Why aren't you 
listening to me!"
	Chris simply pinned her against the floor and forced his sword 
deeper and deeper into her shield.  "Explaining it would be wasted on 
you," he said darkly.  "But since you want to see him so badly, I'll 
indulge him once more.  Just for you."
	The shield shattered, and Marish cried out as his sword stabbed 
into her shoulder, pinning her to the ground.  Effortlessly, Chris 
pulled the blade out and kicked her onto her front.  
	Marish tried to scramble away, but the tip of the Enceladus 
Katana found her spine with deadly accuracy.  A loud snap filled the 
tiny cave, and the woman fell over, slumped over on herself and 
breathing quickly.  
	"I-I can't move!" she cried, legs and arms letting out a final 
twitch before laying still.  
	"How many have you killed here?" Chris asked idly, taking his 
sword to the dirt at his feet.  "Fifty?  Two hundred?  A thousand?  
Somehow, I don't think it's that high of a number.  You seem more of a 
bully type than a real bad-assed warrior bitch." 
	Marish gasped when a Ni popped up from the soil.  "What is that?"
	"It's a Ni," Fiss smiled and knelt down so Marish could see his 
face and the Ni together.  "Wonderful little guys.  Saved the day more 
than once.  But the strange thing is that they can only be drawn on 
soil where someone has died.  I kinda like it, though," he shrugged.  
"Poetic."
	The Ni 'ni-ed' angrily.  It's huge eyes narrowed in a growling 
frown, and its tiny teeth seemed to grow slowly.  
	"Poetic?" Marish asked, watching the tiny script-creature come 
closer.  
	"Yeah," Fiss said, standing up.  "You see, for every person you 
killed here, this Ni can create another one of itself to help out.  I'd 
say that's a pretty fitting revenge."
	The Ni hit the ground with a little splash of dust.  When the 
dust cleared, there were two of them.  They both looked very, very 
angry, and one of them stayed to watch Marish as the other duplicated 
into two, then four and eight more.  
	"Chris!" Marish gasped as he walked back over to Jess.  "No!  
Wait!  You can't just leave me here!"
	He ignored her and helped Jess to her feet slowly.  Jess just 
shook her head.  "Rot in hell."
	"WAIT!" Marish cried as they walked to the door.  "Azrael!  I 
know you're still in there!  What's happened to you!?  Please, honey!  
Help me!  Don't leave me like this!"
	"I don't know what's so hard for you people to understand." Chris 
sighed and turned to her.  "It's like you need this man who was such an 
asshole around to justify your own sick desires." He shook his head.  
"You have only yourself now.  Azrael is gone, and very soon, you will 
be too."
	The door shut and locked behind them.  Marish screamed, trying to 
will herself over to the door to follow.  The Ni swarmed over her, 
grating their little teeth and glaring at her with their angry little 
eyes.  
	One of them floated over to the camera with a very satisfied grin 
on its face.  Its only regret was that it didn't have the thumbs to 
tape the death of the bitch who had killed him.  
	Fiss was wrong.  	She took days to die under the exacting, angry 
administrations of the Ni.  Long, agonizing days.  











	Hardly very soon at all.













=======================================================================











                           Sailor Moon Omoi
                             Missionaries 

                           Part 5.9 – H.E.A.











	Here, there is no more hate.  No more pain.  The Fires of War 
fade away and only the moon remains overhead to light your path.  When 
life can no longer poison you and death no longer frightens you.  This 
is the landscape of your heart, mind and soul when you are at peace.  
	When these distractions disappear and you find yourself for the 
first time since the womb, you will understand all the things you 
thought were strange and disturbing.  Secrets will open to your eyes 
and you will find beauty in everything!  You'll accept all the hurt 
that was given to you.  More than that, you will begin to forgive.  And 
when you do this simple thing, you will know yourself to be beautiful 
as well.  
	As you progress, seeing beauty, knowing truth, and living in 
peace, you will know what makes us special.  Not just one race, but all 
living things, be they be sentient or not.  And you will see the things 
that connect us to each other.  The air we breathe.  The water we 
drink.  The sky we gaze upon and the grass we lay our backs down on.  
The earth that claims all of us in its embrace and the fire that burns 
us with heat, and moves us with power and passion.  You will take it 
all in stride, though.  Do not be so worried about feeling it all too 
quickly.  There is so much more than what we can gather with just a 
glance.  
	Live well and with love.  Strive to be happy, and you will know 
that Happily Ever After is possible.  
	
						- Raziel Hooze, August 11, 3030












Epilogue:
 Sowing Seeds and Midnight Jolt Runs











	Night was well underway as Beavis flew out over the fields and 
back highways.  "Imagine me," he sighed, dodging a magpie and 
accelerating forward like a bullet, "passing out in the heat of battle!  
I'm so bloody ashamed."
	Worst still was having to sneak out like this.  The Senshi needed 
guidance in these dark times.  This week had seen too many good 
warriors die.  Nobody had even told Chris about Maury yet.  Hooze had 
been too grief stricken, and the other Senshi were called back to Tokyo 
almost immediately due to a series of suicide bombs rocking the palace.  
Beavis felt horrible, taking off in the middle of the night, but he was 
charged with a mission that could not be delayed any longer.  
	He found the highway just as he passed the flickering lights of 
Jasper, turned south towards Banff and resumed his near-mach speeds. 
Pavement quickly split up and he followed the roads less traveled at 
night.  Eventually, the roads consisted of gravel and dirt.  Only brave 
RVs and camper-trailers still roamed their lanes this time of night, 
hunting for the perfect campsite.  
	Beavis made a quick right curve around the hills that blocked his 
view of the mountains, sure to keep low to avoid the radar sites he 
knew scanned the area to look for aircraft.
	Mount Temple was easy to spot from nearly fifty miles in every 
direction.  While it had been tall to begin with, there was now a 
massive, snake-like groove around the peak, and several dark, water-
collecting craters pock-marking the side.  One in particular was 
massive enough to swallow a city block, and a small mountain lake had 
already begun to form there.  
	Several small tents had been set up at the edge of the lake 
despite the many signs warning of rock slides.  The tents belonged to 
those who felt a strong spiritual connection to the site and were brave 
enough to risk the crushing death from stones above.  Tonight, only a 
dozen people camped, but Beavis knew there were far greater numbers 
camping out around the mountain itself.  He wondered if the number 
would grow once he was finished.
	He looped around to the far side of the mountain, completely 
unnoticed by the sleeping or meditating people below.  The instructions 
had been very specific.  Exactly due North, where Draxel's heart had 
been resting in the stone.
	The indentation was obvious enough if one imagined the massive 
Throne still sleeping on its perch.  He could almost see the outline of 
scales and skin masquerading as natural wear on the stone.  More than 
that, he could feel the difference at that spot.  Something strange, in 
his stomach as what he carried seemed to shift around anxiously.
	Beavis cleared his throat and quietly regurgitated a small, round 
stone from his stomach, letting it fall out on the rock while he 
hovered a foot above.
	He rose up in the air a few feet and waited.  Slowly, the tiny 
stone began to sink into the rock under it, leaving a tiny hole as it 
descended.  

	Beavis waited. 

	Nothing happened. 

	He sighed, shaking his head.  "Well, I hope that does what you 
wanted," he said to the heavens above.  Nothing continued to happen, 
and, as Beavis expected, he heard nothing in reply.  
	Beavis dropped to the ground and began walking away.  "Listen to 
me.  Old age must be making me superstitious," he chided himself.  
"Whippersnappers.  Kids.  Little brats, all of them."  He turned back 
up to the heavens.  "I WAS SAVING REALITY FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS BEFORE 
YOUR GODS WERE IN DIAPERS!" 
	His echo faded after a moment, and his ears folded down against 
his quills in frustration.  
	"Hah, I finally figured out what that thing was.  A Magic Bean!" 
he smirked, jumping down from the ledge and taking flight once more.  
"I should have known.  At least Jack got a beanstalk.  I carry a magic 
fucking bean in my stomach for a week and look at what I get!  A fat 
load of nothin-"

	Light filled the night sky.  

	Beavis turned around in shock to see a towering pillar of light 
blasting up from where he had laid the stone down.  A heady thrum 
filled the air and his body, though he could perceive no sound with his 
ears.  
	Then, when the light grew impossibly bright, and the thrum 
threatened to rip him apart, Beavis blinked and the light was gone.  

	A smoking hole was carved into the rock.  

	Slowly, Beavis floated back over to the newly formed crater, 
edging closer and closer to its edge.  
	"Meh!" something squeaked behind him, causing Beavis to jump 
forward.
	"Whoa!" another voice laughed, and a hand caught Beavis before he 
fell into the hole.  "Watch yourself, little guy!" 
	Beavis opened his eyes to see a familiar face.  This time, he 
wasn't so surprised.  "Lucifer?" 
	The angel chuckled.  "Please, it's Sam," he said, gently patting 
Beavis along his back.  
	"How did you get here?" Beavis gasped, looking down to see a 
tiny, shimmering dragon walking around the hole, inspecting it.  
	"He's always been here," Joe said, walking out from behind a 
ragged tree.  He was wearing his robes like back on Eden.  "Making sure 
we could pull things back together if we needed to."
	Beavis relaxed as Sam put him back on solid ground.  "What did I 
just do?" he asked, looking over at the hole.  "That isn't another 
Pool, is it?"
	"Smart little fellow," Joe said with a nod.  
	"I've always thought so," Sam agreed, sitting down with his legs 
dangling over the edge.  His wings were gone, but his long, silvery-
grey robe indicated that they were simply cased.  "Anyone who eats 
grubs is cool by me."
	The tiny silver dragon trotted back over to Beavis with an 
appreciative look on its snout.  "Mah!" it cooed happily. 
	"Draxel thanks you," Sam said.  
	"Uhm," Beavis bowed his head.  "You're quite welcome.  Wasn't 
anything to it.  But, this IS a Pool of Angels, isn't it?"
	"Sort of," Sam shrugged.  "More like a connection to the one back 
on Eden."
	"Why?" Beavis blinked.  "Are you going to spread the Word here?"
	Both of the men blinked, then laughed.  Joe shook his head.  "Not 
quite.  Think of it more of an anchor.  We were drifting apart, but 
now, because your magic has caught up to ours, we can begin connecting 
again."
	"The doors are just the beginning," Sam explained.  "They allowed 
us to reach you.  For you to reach us.  But now, we can be true allies.  
Two worlds working together-"
	"Three," Joe interrupted.
	"Ahh, yes," Sam grinned.  Even though he looked less like the 
devil Beavis knew, he still had the same little evil grin.  "Three 
Universes together.  And I rather like the whole trinity of it, don't 
you?"
	"You always were a romantic," Joe shook his head.  
	Beavis nodded, taking it all in.  When they smiled and stopped 
talking, though, his quills ruffled angrily.  "God Dammit.  I need to 
apologize to Christopher."
	Sam blinked.  "Why?"
	"BECAUSE YOU TWO ARE ANNOYING!  And I've done the exact same 
thing to him!  My GOD!!  It's a wonder he didn't suffocate me in his 
sleep!" Beavis growled.  "Are you going to tell me WHY or should I just 
start heading home so you two can talk in riddles?"
	Joe sighed with a shrug.  "It's not that we don't trust you..."
	Beavis shot the brothers a dirty look.  "Nobody even knows I'm 
here.  YOU try escaping from a bunch of Senshi who are dead scared of 
losing more of their friends right now!  That's why it's taken so long 
to GET here!" 
	"But..."
	"I've kept more secrets than twenty politicians during election 
year!!" Beavis hissed.  "Now start talking!"
	"Yeah, he's cool," Sam chuckled.  
	Joe picked the little hedgehog and placed him next to Draxel, who 
was busy preening his feathery wings.  "We found them," he said 
quietly.  
	Beavis frowned.  "Found who?"
	Sam grinned, looking very much the devil as he leaned over to 
peer at Beavis.  "The ones who sent Tumbler.  Who started this whole 
mess.  We found the bastards, Beav."
	Joe nodded with a grave look on his face as Beavis turned to him 
in amazement.  "More than that," the older brother said.  "We've 
learned they've taken a special interest in us.  All three of our 
Universes."
	Beavis was torn between the excitement and joy of finally 
confronting the nameless, faceless foe that had plagued them for so 
long – and the sudden, gut-wrenching fear that came with the memories 
of what they almost did.  "Why?" he asked.  "Why us?"
	Joe smiled. 

	"Because we survived."




***




	"That's MY story," Jess complained, looking up at the television 
in the corner of the hospital room.  "That's my bloody story, and Eric 
has some chick with a push-up bra covering my story!"
	The outburst woke up Fiss, who was still curled up next to her, 
recovering from the exhausting few weeks of travel.  "Who did what 
now?"  The TV showed the front of the Crystal Canada city hall, where a 
huge crowd had gathered outside the gates.  "You're cuter," Chris 
grinned as it the camera showed the reporter. 
	"God, could she be any more nasal?" Jess groaned as the woman 
started talking.  
	"The mood here in front of City Hall is tense as the first busses 
have arrived to take the Eden Refugees to their temporary camp outside 
Edmonton city limits," the reporter said with all the flare of a cue-
card, making Jess sigh once more.  "Andrea Hooze released a written 
statement this morning, announcing that the group has been cleared of 
all known and detectable diseases, and would be allowed to leave the 
underground bunkers this afternoon.  The question on everybody's minds, 
however, is if the sixty-nine-thousand, eight-hundred and thirty-four 
new citizens will be accepted as neighbours, or turned away as a drain 
on the tax-payer."
	The camera switched to a random person in the crowd, recorded a 
few moments before.  The old man looked far from pleased.  "This 
country doesn't need more upheaval.  You can only do so much before 
people start getting uncomfortable!  I thought this government was 
supposed to maintain our way of life?"
	"Old coot," Chris commented dryly.  "Try surfing the net.  
Broaden your horizons."
	"I doubt he'd find the gay Russian porn sites as interesting as 
you do, Chris," Jess chuckled.
	"IT WAS SPAM!" Chris cried.  "I swear I didn't download 
anything!"
	Another interview clip.  This time, a much happier looking couple 
of teenagers.  "This is such an amazing day!  It proves we can do good 
all across the universe!" a bubbly blond said.  "I can't wait to show 
them my Britney Spears video collection!"
	"My God..." Chris sighed, burying his head on Jess' lap.  "What 
have I done?"
	"I'll get the mustard gas," Jess said dryly.  "Come on, it's not 
that bad."
	Chris looked up to see a five year old boy on the screen.  "My 
mom and dad are here to help anyone who is hurt," he explained.  "They 
say that the people had a dangerous journey," he turned beet red.  "I 
want to help out too.  I'll even let them play with my Legos.  That 
always makes me feel better."
	"See?" Jess smiled, brushing his hair playfully between her 
fingers.  "Little kids sharing their toys.  This stuff is gold."
	A group of university students were on the screen next, 
displaying a huge, home-made sign that read "Welcome to Earth!" in at 
least twenty written languages.
	Then, a kindergarten class, proudly holding up little angel-
shaped cookies and baskets filled with more of the same.  "WELCOME TO 
CRYSTAL CANADA!" they all shouted to the laughter of the two teachers 
who were chaperoning.  
	Chris sat up slowly, watching the screen with a tiny smile on his 
lips.  
	The reporter came back on.  "Much of the favourable reaction of 
the country has been due to the amazing documentary provided by star 
reporter Jesminder Simrit, and her brave camera lead, Jean Palmer, who 
risked their very lives to bring the refugees' stories to the 
televisions and newspapers of Crystal Canada."
	A picture of Jean, dressed in his finest suit with a camera bag 
slung over his shoulder was displayed a moment later.  Jess held her 
hands to her mouth, trying not to cry.  
	"It was their brave sacrifices," the reporter continued, letting 
the view shift to a portion of Jess' interview with one of the hunters, 
"that showed us all that these people from Eden...a world most would 
consider fantasy...were not so different from you or I."
	"I think we can forgive her for being a little green," Chris 
smiled, hugging Jess as she watched the screen with tears in the 
corners of her eyes.  
	"Wait!" the woman said, looking behind her as a great cheer rose 
up from the crowd.  Only the tiniest shouting of negativity occurred, 
and it was silenced quickly by the sheer volume of cheers.  "They're 
coming out!" she said, and the camera moved as if they were running to 
the gates.  
	Chris and Jess watched proudly as the first confused faces came 
out of the building, led by Captain Kirk, and several people with 
swords who he recognized as Miharu's Missionaries.  
	As the City of Fiss came out into the courtyard, the cheering 
combined into a resounding 'Welcome!'  
	Confusion turned into amazement on the faces of the Edenites.  
Several waved shyly.  More than a few broke out into tears of joy.  
Jess nearly jumped up out of bed when she saw a familiar old man with a 
bandage around his arm, and three, blond, beautiful girls following him 
out into the light.  "Riga!" she cried.  "Oh my God!  He made it!"
	The crowd recognized him from the interview and began cheering 
louder.  He took a step back in surprise, but his smile quickly 
returned, and he led his daughters with pride towards the fence. 
Nervously, the Coats parted to let him through, and there was a great 
commotion as people rushed to shake hands with him and greet him.  
	"Ladies and Gentlemen of Crystal Canada," a booming voice from 
the middle of the courtyard announced.  
	Everyone quieted down and turned to see Hooze, Raziel and Demeter 
coming out of the building with more and more of the refugees.  Demeter 
was holding a microphone, and when he spoke, the entire courtyard was 
filled with his voice.  
	"From this day forward, let the proud country of Crystal Canada 
be a beacon," he said, barely able to contain his own voice, "for all 
those things that everyone needs!  A Home!  Safety!  And most of all, 
Family!"
	 A great cheer filled the air once more, and lasted for minutes 
as many of the refugees clapped as well.  
	"I ask you all to open your hearts," Demeter said happily.  
"Please welcome the newest addition to our nation...the people of 
Eden!"
	The cheering continued as Chris stood and turned down the volume.  
	Jess sat back in her bed, wiping her cheeks.  "I can't believe 
it."
	Chris walked back over to her side and sat down next to her.  
"I've never been so proud of this country," he whispered, mostly to 
himself.  "This is incredible."
	"Demeter is quite a speech maker," Jess laughed, grabbing a 
second set of tissues to dry her eyes.  
	Fiss nodded, then looked over to Hooze.  His sister was smiling, 
but she was hiding a lot of sadness.  "I should go," he whispered.  
	Jess nodded, wincing slightly as she lay back down in the bed.  
"They need you," she said.  "I've monopolized you enough.  You should 
have been there at that ceremony."
	He shook his head and smiled.  "I wanted to share it with you.  
You did so much for us all...I can't begin to-"
	"Stop," she said, shaking her head weakly.  "I don't think I can 
take any more crying right now."
	Chris nodded, seeing that it was time to let her sleep anyway.  
"I'll be back Tuesday.  Before the funeral."
	"Thank you," Jess smiled, leaning up to meet his lips in a kiss.  
"I'm not sure if I'll be able to come, but I'll try."
	"We'll see what the docs think," Chris nodded.  "Rest."
	"You too," Jess winked as he stood, gathering his sword which was 
wrapped in cloth at the side of the bed.  
	"Pardon?" Chris blinked. 
	"You'll need it for when I get out of here," she said, grinning 
at him.  
	He felt a blush coming on.  "I think I'll go rest now..."
	She laughed as he ran for the door.  



	 
***	



	On the drive back home, Chris decided to take the scenic route.  

	The black sports car slipped through the streets of Edmonton 
easily.  Not one slipped gear or bad shift today.  He felt very, very 
good with Jess' kiss still warming his lips.
	His PDA began vibrating and he sighed, reaching to silence the 
ring.  Everyone had been trying to reach him.  Last time he'd checked, 
there had been over fifty messages waiting for his attention.  "Yeah, 
yeah, I'm coming," he sighed, pulling it out of his pocket and pulling 
over to a side-street to get out of traffic.  
	By the time he stopped, the PDA had stopped ringing and a new 
message light lit up the top with an amber glow.  "Dammit," he sighed, 
seeing the call had been from Hooze.  She was the only one he didn't 
mind talking to at the moment.  Ten messages had been from Rei, and 
they sat there since the morning.  
	"Playback last message," he ordered, and the tiny speaker filled 
the car's cabin with his sister's voice. 
	"Chris..." she said, sounding very sad and quiet.  "Hey, bro... 
listen...I-I haven't told you.  I mean, I've been meaning to for the 
longest time...and I hate to do it on a message, but I can't seem to do 
it to your face.  Maury...well..."
	Another call came in, cutting off the message.  
	Chris was concerned at the tone of his sister's voice, and was 
about to redirect the call when he read the caller display on the PDA 
and laughed, hitting the 'answer' button with his thumb.   



***


	
	Hooze sat by the phone for a good hour, hoping Chris would call 
her right back.  She felt so horrible...leaving a message like that.  
"Hey, bro!  How's it going?  Maury's dead!  Oh, and can you pick up 
some milk on the way home for Beavis?" she grumbled to herself, 
standing and pacing back and forth in the conference room.  
	Makoto and Minako had returned that evening for the funeral 
services later in the week.  Both looked exhausted, and for once, it 
was not due to jet lag.  Artemis was curled up on Mina's lap, purring 
contently half-asleep as she scratched behind his ear.  
	"He'll be back once he gets it out of his system," Minako said 
quietly, nursing a cup of tea in her hands.  "I hope he doesn't get 
into an accident or anything."
	"God," Hooze said, slumping into her seat.  "I never even thought 
about that. 
	"Chris isn't like that," Makoto said, shooting Venus a glare.
	"You weren't like that, either," Minako said. 
	Hooze cradled her head in her hands and rubbed her temples.  
"Enough, alright?  It's over.  We all lost people we loved, and we're 
all bitchy because of it.  Stop it."
	Nobody said anything for a very long time.  Finally, Minako 
stood.  "I'm going to bed.  Artemis is tired and Hooze is right," she 
said quietly.  "Goodnight."
	"I'll call Kirk up to escort you to the guest rooms," Hooze 
nodded, grateful to halve the tension in the room by having Venus 
leave.  
	Makoto watched her friend leave, then turned to Andrea.  "I'm so 
sorry."
	"For what?" Hooze smiled lightly.  "She's always been kinda 
weird."
	"No," Makoto said quietly.  "For your sister."
	"It wasn't your fault," Hooze said, returning her hands to her 
temples.  
	"If I hadn't rushed out there like an idiot..."
	"Then it would have been someone else," Hooze snapped at her.  
"When I said stop it, I meant your bullshit too.  You were upset.  We 
all were.  We came to Eden to try and help out, thinking if Mo could 
die in a blaze of glory, then it was all our destinies to do the same."
	Jupiter turned pale.  "You...thought that too?"
	"We all did," Hooze sighed, shaking her head.  "You didn't just 
throw your body in front of the blast.  You acted like any of us would 
have.  You even had a plan, and it wasn't because you were reckless 
that it failed.  I wouldn't have blamed you even if you did have some 
kind of death wish.  Who the hell am I to say what you do after you 
lose the man you love?"
	Slowly, Jupiter's hands came up and caught her head in a similar 
pose, trying to ease away the headache from crying so much the last few 
days.  "She really did save us all."
	"Yep."  Hooze allowed herself a small smile as she looked up.  
"She did."
	They sat for what seemed like ages, watching the phone for signs 
of ringing.  Finally, a red light appeared on top and a quiet buzzer 
began to sound just as the tiny LCD clock on the display showed 
midnight.  
	It woke the two women up, who then quickly tried to pretend they 
weren't sleeping.  Hooze picked up the phone, faking a wide-awake 
voice.  "Hooze here."
	Makoto watched Andrea's confused face.  Then, the confusion 
turned to dread.  
	"That was Kirk.  Chris is on his way back," she said quietly.  
"We should go down and meet him in the garage."
	"Is he okay?" Makoto asked as they left the conference room and 
walked down the hall to the elevator.  
	"Didn't say," Hooze whispered.  "Maybe he didn't get the message.  
God...I shouldn't have left it.  He's probability in shambles right 
now."
	"We can't just keep hiding it from him, though," Makoto said.  
"They were best friends.  Are we going to tell him when he sees the 
gravestone?"
	"Can't we?  It would be easier," Andrea admitted as the elevator 
slowed and deposited them in one of the lower levels.  

	The garage was filled with the sound of screeching tyres.

	Chris' new car that he'd got from New York came screaming down 
the ramp at incredible speeds.  The twin turbine-rotary engines growled 
happily and in perfect sync with each other as the sleek metal shape 
roared up over a speed bump and turned aggressively into a spin.  
	"He's been practicing," Andrea said with a nervous smile.
	Jupiter only nodded in shock as the car spun three times on the 
slick new asphalt surface, and stopped with a satisfying growl, 
perfectly lined up in the parking spot designated for "Fisses Only".  
	Neither Hooze nor Jupiter were expecting laughter as Chris opened 
the scissor-wing door and jumped out with a Jolt can in his hand.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen!  I give you Zangetsu!"  He slammed the door 
shut, still laughing from the adrenalin rush in his system, and nearly 
fell over from the recent spin still messing up his balance. 
	Andrea's confusion began to mix with anger in her voice.  "You 
named your car?"
	"Yeah!" Chris smiled brightly.  "You like?"
	Makoto's jaw dropped, and Chris became confused that she looked 
like someone had just kicked her pet hamster.  "What about Maury?"
	Chris blinked.  "Pardon?  Oh, no, he suggested 'Ford Piece of 
Shit'.  No fucking way."
	Hooze was shaking in anger now, and Chris took a confused step 
backwards as she stormed toward her brother.  "Maury's gone and all you 
can think about is naming your car?!!?"
	"What are you talking about?" Chris asked nervously.  "Maury and 
I were just out for a Jolt run.  Did you want us to pick you up 
something?"
	
	The passenger side door of Zangetsu opened. 

	Hooze and Jupiter both looked past Chris, turning ghostly white 
as Maury stumbled out of the car, laughing hysterically and balancing 
two cases of Jolt Cola in his arms.
	"Holy SHIT that was cool!" he shouted over to Fiss, dropping the 
cases on the ground to regain his balance.  "I taught you good!  Them 
emerg-brake-spins are totally-" he blinked, seeing Makoto standing 
there for the first time.  
	They shared a confused, tense moment.  Maury raised a hand and 
smiled.  
	"Hey, babe!"
	Both Chris and Andrea had to leap out of the way for dear life as 
Makoto ran towards him.  
	"MAURY!  YOU'RE ALIVE!" she cried, bowling him over onto the 
ground.  
	Hooze walked over to her brother, leaning on him for support.  
"He's alive??"
	Chris shrugged.  "Yeah.  Why?  I just picked him up at the 
airport.  He took a flight in from Calgary.  Said Dave had things to 
do, didn't have time to drop him off."
	Hooze looked up at her brother in disbelief.  
	"So," Chris smiled, handing a Jolt to his sister.  "Sorry I 
didn't have a chance to listen to your message.  What did you want to 
tell me?"
	Andrea just took the can and opened it with a pop.  "Uhm... 
nothing.  Delete it, okay?"
	"Aww," Maury shouted, standing up with Makoto still holding him 
tightly, a big, wet spot on his shirt where she was still crying.  
"Come on, you pansies!  Come here and give Mo-Man a big ol' hug!"
	Hooze joined Jupiter in hugging Mo tightly, and she was unable to 
hold in the joy anymore.  Mo sighed as he found there were now two 
tear-spots on his shirt.  
	"Girls are strange," Maury whispered over to Fiss.  
	Fiss handed him a fresh Jolt.  "You're telling me," he chuckled.  
"Welcome back, bro."
	"Damn good to be back," Maury smiled as Fiss joined the group 
hug.  "Now, who's touching my butt?"
	Everyone backed away. 
	"Hey," Mo pouted.  "I didn't say stop."
	










Epilogue:
 Farewell and Goodnight











	For the second time that month, all the Senshi had gathered 
together.  This time, however, they were not crowded around a tiny 
screen in the back of an arcade.  This time, they were on the coast, 
overlooking the Pacific Ocean on a long stretch of grass.  
	Minako stood off to the side, watching the group assemble.  Maury 
and Makoto were holding each other tightly.  Rei was standing 
tentatively next to Chris and Miharu, though few words were shared, and 
there seemed to be a physical wall between them.  Andrea and Usagi were 
in the middle, holding a small urn and white roses respectively.  
Everyone was in their Senshi outfits.  Even Luna and Artemis looked 
well groomed, and Beavis had found a tiny silk collar to wear.  Ami was 
petting Luna, whose tiny face was moist from crying.  
	Michael stood with Cassiel and Yamato in the back of the group by 
the three remaining Outer Senshi.  He wore all black and his tie was 
crooked.  Somehow, it fit him as he chewed absentmindedly on the end of 
a cigarette.  Cassiel held his arm for support, obviously very worried 
about his well-being.  Sometimes, she would lean up and whisper 
something to him, and every time, Michael would mouth the words 'I'm 
fine.' 
	The sun was setting, and Minako wished that she could enjoy the 
beauty of that evening.  Experience the sorrow of the moment.  Share in 
the pain that they were all feeling.  
	But she couldn't.  Her thoughts were elsewhere.  Seeing Maury 
alive and well had been both a blessing and a horrible blow.  It had 
all been a lie.  A trick to manipulate people.  A trick that, she was 
certain, nearly cost Jupiter her life, and claimed Pluto's life when 
she traded places.  
	She had thought about blaming Maury for the longest time.  Until 
she heard what happened and learned that it was not he who withheld the 
information.  It had been someone else.  
	Artemis came walking over to her and placed a paw on her foot, 
snapping her out of her introspection.  "It's time, Minako," he said 
quietly.  "The wind changed."
	"Thank you," Venus smiled softly at her guardian, and walked over 
to join the group.  
	Ami walked to the cliff and turned around to face the group.  
"Senshi, Knights and Friends, we are here to pay our respects to two 
very dearly departed.  Princess Meioh Setsuna, Avatar of Pluto and 
Eldest Guardian of Time.  And Gabriel Sarapham Eliesa Bikko, Knight of 
the First Order of the Holy Word, and Arch Mage Ninth Degree.   
	The group hung their heads solemnly, and Fiss joined Michael and 
Cassiel at the cliff face.  SkitZ held a small golden stone inlaid with 
the seven Theban symbols for the Seven Virtues, and Gabriel's name 
inscribed on the back.  
	"Gabe," SkitZ said, eyes squinting to prevent tears, "was the 
last surviving original Knight.  Forged by destiny soon after the Word 
to protect, rule and govern.  Blah, blah, bullshit.  That was just her 
job.  She became a mentor and friend to us all when the second group of 
Knights raised their big-eyed heads out from their cradles.  She and 
Yamato raised us like a mother and father," he turned to Yamato.  "And 
she was a tough old mum.  But she got the job done, now, didn't she?"
	Yamato nodded sadly, hiding his eyes with his hand.  
	"She gave me a kick to the head when I was thinking only with my 
heart.  She gave me a brain when I was worried more about pretty 
girls," SkitZ smiled to Cass, who blushed despite her sadness.  "And 
gave me a friend when I thought I was alone in the Noize." He brought 
the stone to his mouth and kissed it gently.  "Goinna miss you, Gabe."
	Chris cleared his throat.  "Gabriel once told me she would have 
liked to retire on Earth.  According to her wishes, this stone contains 
her remains, and therefore, we hope she will find the peace that she 
has helped us fight for."
	The three Knights walked back from the cliff, then Michael turned 
around, and in one massive throw, tossed the stone into the ocean with 
a resounding splash.  Yamato let out a muffled sob as Miharu hugged him 
warmly.  
	Nobody said anything as the Knights walked back over to the 
group, and both Usagi and Andrea stood, one hand each on the urn 
containing Setsuna's ashes.
	Demeter, Mamoru, Chibi-Usagi and even Raziel stood at attention 
as the two women turned around, setting the urn on the ground at the 
edge of the cliff.  
	"Princess..." Usagi continued, but couldn't finish the word 
before sobbing.  Hooze held her in a warm hug, trying to lend her 
support despite wanting to join her.  Slowly, Usagi nodded and turned 
back to the group.  "She saved us so many times," she said, sniffling.  
"She was always so cool.  Seemed to know just what to say.  She saved 
my baby girl..." 
	Mamoru walked up to hold her as she collapsed, holding the urn in 
her hands.  Their daughter hugged Demeter's leg for support, trying not 
to cry.  
	Hooze stood up and looked out over the ocean, using the Key of 
Time to help her up.  "My sister always told me to work hard and be 
brave," she said quietly.  "I was always good at the second part, and 
she yelled at me for the first part, but I never, ever thought for one 
second that it was because she didn't love me, or didn't think I was 
good enough.  I knew it was to prepare me for this day, and what 
happens next."
	Usagi seemed to be calmed by the words, and slowly, she stood 
back up with Mamoru holding her hand.  "Setsuna told me that we all 
were part of the same destiny.  That when it was time, we would fulfil 
our parts and move on to the next world, or time, or wherever we were 
needed.  It scared me, until I remembered that we would all meet 
again." She smiled sadly.  "I'll miss every one of you...and I can't 
wait to see you all again, and again.  I know we'll be able to meet her 
again, when it is time."
	Hooze nodded, then turned to the group.  "Anyone else?"
	"Please," Hotaru whispered from the back.  "We'd like to say 
goodbye."
	The three remaining Outer Senshi walked up to the front and stood 
around the urn.  They lowered their heads and joined their hands in a 
silent prayer.  Everyone followed suit a moment later, and when they 
looked up, they saw Haruka wiping her eyes quickly before returning to 
the group.  
	Andrea knelt down next to the urn.  "We love you, big sis.  See 
you in time."  With Usagi's help, Andrea opened and slowly tipped the 
urn into the wind.

	The Guardian of Time flew into the sunset.  











Epilogue:
 Dreams and Ice-creams











	The country was accepting their new citizens with open arms 
wherever they went.  Ten thousand joined up with the military, having 
the training in Eden to do so.  A few hundred joined up with the CCMA 
to assist in the advancement of magic, and more than a few began to 
look into politics when they saw some things they didn't like, or 
wanted to allow for a more Eden-like feel.  Most of the people were 
beginning to settle in small towns across BC, Alberta, and 
Saskatchewan, and almost ten thousand were hoping to join with the US 
and other countries across the world.  As most of the people had never 
been dunked in the Pool of Angels, they fit in very well, even with 
those who knew their origin.  
	Christopher tried to balance out the mountains of paperwork and 
requests by spending no less than two hours with Jess every day and at 
least that much time with Miharu and Hooze to keep sane.  
	Maury and Makoto had taken off one morning, soon after the 
funerals.  They left a simple note that said:  

["Taking some alone time.  We'll call if we get hitched.  Love: Mako 
and Mo."]

	Though nobody told him, Chris assumed correctly that Maury's 
perceived death had been the cause of a lot of sadness.  It seemed to 
help having him play the fool, though, so he continued to seem 
oblivious to the truth.  Miharu and Hooze would sometimes get haunted 
little looks in their eyes, but when he walked by with a Jolt, the 
looks went away and turned into grateful smiles. 
	As the paperwork dwindled back down to a small creek instead of 
Niagara Falls, there was another worry to deal with.  Jess wasn't 
getting better, and the Aszap inside her womb didn't respond to any of 
the treatments they were trying to give her to abort the monster. 
	Finally, as the thing was starting to grow tiny arms, (and claws) 
the doctors opted for surgery before it was too late.  
	"Has Rei called?" Jesminder asked as he sat next to her bed.  
"You look grumpy."
	"Grumpy?" Fiss smirked.  
	"Yes," she smiled.  "You always look grumpy when she talks to 
you.  I can tell the moment you walk in the room."
	"Christmas," Fiss nodded.  "She wants to come up for Christmas.  
Figures it's a good time to patch things up."
	She shrugged.  "What did you say?"
	"I said I was seeing someone," Chris said.  "She said it wasn't a 
problem.  Wanted to come anyway.  She did that annoyingly cute thing 
with the 'Fiss-chan' and I caved in.  I said she could come."
	"That will be wonderful!" Jess grinned, obviously enjoying the 
prospects of telling her 'rival' to fuck off.  "We can have it at my 
parents' farm house.  Lots of room, and they're dying to meet you, 
too."
	Chris had a mental image of the dinner table.  It actually didn't 
look so horrible.  Surrounded by family, at least, there would be no 
fights.  He hoped. 
	"You look like you're trying to come up with reasons to say 
'no'," Jess said. 
	"It's too short of notice?" Chris tried. 
	"It's not even September yet."
	He sighed, defeated.  "Oh, right."
	Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face.  "What is it?"
	"Just..." he sighed.  "It's what you told me, earlier.  About the 
dream.  Me being in it, and the Aszaps using me to get to you..." he 
trailed off. 
	She nodded.  "And even in that dream, you were still trying to 
protect me.  I don't blame you, and I certainly wouldn't blame you if 
it was just my hyperactive imagination trying to stop me from waking 
up."
	"You can't just forget dreams, though," Chris said, turning to 
her.  "They can help.  And they can haunt you as real as anything."
	"But they don't!" Jess shouted, surprising him.  "And you 
shouldn't have to suffer for something you've never done, and never 
ever would have done!  And if you can't tell her, then I will because I 
love you so goddamn much!"
	Before Chris could respond, a nurse came in with a scowl.  
"Excuse me," she whispered harshly.  "But I'm afraid you'll have to 
leave, Mister Fiss."
	Jess shot the woman a dirty look, but then noticed that her heart 
monitor was racing in her anger.  
	"I'll go," he sighed, standing up.  
	"Wait," Jess said, causing him to stop.  "Come by tomorrow and 
make sure this thing doesn't hurt anyone when they take it out.  Okay?"
	Chris nodded.  "I'll be there."
	Jess shook her head.  "Come here."
	The nurse gave a long, annoyed sigh, but her heart-rate had gone 
back down, so she turned the other way.  
	"I need to know how you feel," she whispered.  "Now.  Right now.  
Before they start cutting me up.  I'll come out of it okay, but I won't 
be able to sleep tonight unless you tell me."
	Chris hesitated.  "I don't know."
	"No," Jess frowned.  "You know just fine, but you're still 
thinking about those old days and the times that felt just right and 
all that other bull-"
	"I love you," Chris said.  
	Her anger melted away and a small smile reappeared on her lips.  
	Chris nodded, turning pink around the ears.  "I'm sorry...you're 
right.  All this stuff in the past is still messing me up," he sighed, 
then took a long, deep breath.  "But even all that can't make me blind.  
I love you."
	"I'll do it, you know," Jess smiled as he kissed her forehead.  
	"Do what?"
	"Tell Rei off," she said innocently.  "I mean, if you really want 
me to."
	Chris sighed, hanging his head against her shoulder.  "It's going 
to be an interesting Christmas, isn't it?"
	"Please," the nurse sighed.  "Don't make me call security."
	They shared another kiss, then Chris was led out of the room, 
leaving Jess to rest.  
	
	


***




	"You're late," Miharu smiled as Thomas walked into the shop with 
a paper bag under his shoulder.  Curiosity got the best of her as he 
carefully laid down the package.  "You brought a Playboy?  Just what 
kind of date do you think this is?"
	Thomas gave her a little smirk.  "I'm a Hustler man myself.  No, 
it's a comic.  Go ahead."
	She pulled out the novel and whistled appreciatively.  "Sin City.  
Never read it, but Uncle Mo swears by it.   I didn't think you were one 
for comics."
	"I've been meaning to get into them."
	A waitress walked by and caught their orders.  The little ice-
cream shop was famous for its stone slab method.  Simply stated, they 
mixed their ice-cream with toppings in the way that some people would 
use a stir-fry grill, with the 'stone slab' being cold instead of a hot 
cooking surface.  Despite a couple of loud teenagers chatting about 
music and movies in the corner, it was a very pleasant atmosphere, and 
their table had an old Sixties movie theme to it.    
	"I never thanked you properly," Miharu said as their milkshakes 
arrived.  "For what you did back in Eden."
	"Figured you could use some help," Thomas shrugged.  "And once 
Jimmy saw the scout mech he was sold on the idea.  We had to pry him 
out of it with a crow-bar once we got back.  He just wouldn't leave."
	She laughed.  "He's a good kid."
	"They're all good," Thomas nodded.  
	"And," Miharu said, "they respect you.  That's extremely 
important for a leader."
	He nodded, hiding behind his milkshake for a moment.  "I'm still 
confused by that part."
	"Enough about work," Miharu said, faking a yawn.  "We're out to 
have fun."
	Thomas nodded gratefully.  "I was thinking about taking up 
kayaking."
	"Never tried," she smiled.  "Though, sounds like fun."
	"Used to go to the lake with my dad," he said.  "Very peaceful.  
Figured now that I don't have half a kilo in my blood anymore it would 
be pretty enjoyable."
	"I'll take your word for it," she chuckled, then grinned with 
delight as the waitress returned with their ice-cream.  "Oh, hell yes."
	She ordered a vanilla with extra-gummie-bears mixed in.  Thomas 
had a chocolate-and-strawberries combo, not sure what else would taste 
good.  Luckily, it did taste amazing, and both gladly tried each 
other's mix after eyeing the other bowl greedily half way through.  
	"We should go sometimes," Thomas said as Miharu casually snuck 
her spoon over to his last strawberry chunk.  
	"Pardon?" Miharu asked, quickly pulling her spoon back and 
sticking it in her mouth as if nothing ever happened. 
	Thomas shrugged.  "You could come kayaking with me.  Spend the 
weekend camping.  You know, something like that."
	Miharu's smile faded slightly.  "You mean, like a date-date?"
	"Well-"
	"Like a 'just the two of us, sharing a tent' kinda date?"
	Despite her disappearing smile, Thomas shrugged.  "Might be fun."
	She took a long breath and reached across the table to grab his 
hands.  "I'm sorry, Thomas.  I'm not really...well..." she paused, 
looking for the right words as his heart stopped in horror.  "I 
wouldn't be much fun.  I'm kinda in love with someone at the moment."
	"Oh?" he asked, wondering who he had to kill and hide the body.  
"Anyone I know?"
	Miharu smiled and shook her head.  "I'm afraid not.  But I'd love 
to go if you don't mind me grabbing my own tent."
	"It's okay," Thomas said, smiling back.  "Maybe later or 
something then."
	"Maybe," Miharu nodded, finishing up her milkshake.  
	They sat there, quietly contemplating the emptiness of their 
bowls and drinks.  
	"I have to head out in a bit," she said, looking at the clock on 
the wall.  "Sorry."
	"It's okay," Thomas said through the same forced grin.  "I'll 
grab the bill.  I think that's what we agreed to anyway."
	She laughed and nodded, standing up a moment later and giving him 
a quick, friends-only hug across his shoulders.  "See you on Tuesday."
	"See ya," Thomas waved, then watched her walk outside to her car, 
get in and roll out of view before he slumped down against the table.  
	"Didn't work out as planned?" the waitress asked as she came by 
with the bill.   
	He nodded sadly, handing her some cash for the meal.  
	"Ahh, don't worry," she winked.  "I'm sure you have them lined up 
anyway, right?"
	"Yeah, right," he sighed, looking back at the cover of his comic.  
"Maybe it just wasn't meant to be anyway."
	He collected his things and walked out of the ice-cream shop, 
reattaching his sword to his belt as he did.  It felt surprisingly 
comfortable to carry around now.  
	Then, he pulled out his PDA and dialled a number.  "Hey, 
Danielle?" he smiled, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.  "Yeah, 
sure, I think I can make it for the movie in time.  Yeah.  Oh, and I 
was wondering...have you ever gone kayaking?"




***



	When Jess woke up next, she was surrounded by several very happy 
looking people.  Eric, her boss, Nathan, and several of her co-workers 
stood, hovering around her with a doctor that was doing his best not to 
seem annoyed by the sudden crowd.  She glanced around quickly and saw 
Chris standing off to the side, coat hiding his sword in an effort to 
seem civil.  
	"The operation was a complete success," Eric said happily.  "They 
got it all."
	She carefully reached down to her stomach and felt around for 
signs of the bulge that had begun to show.  It was gone, and she gasped 
in joy.  
	Fiss waited to the side patiently as the tide of humanity washed 
through the room.  He met her parents for the first time...a cheery 
pair that made him feel that they could work in the Jolt Cola factory 
they were so sweet.  Both seemed to know him, and he blushed terribly 
when her mom asked if he was coming in for Christmas.  
	"I think so," he smiled. 
	After it was explained to him that he WOULD be there for 
Christmas, and being lured in by the offer of home made butter-chicken, 
he conceded and agreed to bring Miharu as well, as she was 'such a cute 
girl!' as per Jess' mom.  They also gave an open invitation to anyone 
else he wanted to bring.
	"Maybe another.  I haven't decided yet."
	Eric and Nathan traded places with Jess' folks to allow more 
sweetness to occur.  After Eric excused himself, needing to get back to 
the station, Nathan handed Fiss a card.  "Baxter wants to talk to you," 
he said.  "Figured you were busy.  Just call his secretary and she'll 
set you up with a call."
	"The President actually wants to talk to me?" Chris blinked.  
"Wow.  Did he find Bush's wacky-tabaccy under the oval office carpet or 
something?"
	Nathan chuckled.  "It's his last term.  I figure he might be 
trying to undo some of the damage before he gets kicked out."
	"Ahh," Fiss nodded, pocketing the card.  "Thanks.  I'll call him 
up.  Later.  Promise."
	"I told him you would be a bit preoccupied.  He said no problem.  
It's your dime when you want to use it," Nathan cleared his throat.  
"She's quite a girl, you know.  Might be too much for you to handle."
	Chris shot him a dry look.
	"Fine," Nathan chuckled.  "Can you at least ask if she has any 
cute sisters?"
	"Everyone," Jess announced, "thanks for coming, but can I have 
some time with Christopher, please?" 
	"That's my cue," Nathan coughed, grabbing a few of her lingering 
co-workers and ushering them out.  
	The doctor left with Jess' parents, again assuring them that 
their daughter was fine, and didn't need them sitting by her bed all 
night.

	The door closed. 

	"It went okay?" Jess asked.  
	He nodded and pointed at his sword.  "The doctors had no problem 
with it.  It's gone."
	Jess relaxed noticeably as she sat up to hug him.  "I feel 
better," she whispered.  "Everything still feels weird though."
	"You were just in surgery," Chris laughed.  "No laps for a while, 
okay?"
	She smiled and nodded, laying back in the bed and letting out a 
long, deep breath.  "When can I get out of here?"
	"Tomorrow," Fiss said. 
	"And when can I jump you?"
	"Monday," he laughed. "No touching below the belt."
	She groaned.  "A whole week?"
	He shrugged and jumped up onto the side of the bed playfully.  
"I'm sure I could find ways to entertain you until then.  There's 
plenty of you above your belt."
	She began to believe in that statement as they kissed.  Another 
knock on the door cut them short, however, and Jess shot daggers from 
her eyes towards the tell-tale heart-monitor beeping rapidly next to 
them.  
	"If I hear that fucking beep one more time..." she growled.  
	Fiss laughed, stepping away from her as the nurse came in.  "I'll 
pick you up tomorrow.  Date.  Ice-cream's on me."
	"Promise?" she smiled.  "I mean, about the ice-cream being on 
you?"
	"Oh my..."











Epilogue:
 Alpha and Omega











	"My God..." Dave whispered as he looked above his fridge.  "I 
haven't dusted in years."
	"A decade at least," Dora laughed as she threw a stack of books 
into a portable Penguinspace hole.  Dust was flying everywhere.  
"Window?"
	"Please" Dave sighed, opening the fridge and closing it quickly 
when he saw something moving.  "Oops.  I was wondering where I left 
that sandwich."
	Dora opened a window in the apartment, stepping out onto the 
balcony to see the red leaves falling across the street below in 
Central Park.  "Why are you packing up anyway?  This is a beautiful 
apartment."
	"Because every Omega Webber knows how to get to it," Dave 
explained.  "And I don't feel like having twenty guys coming by daily 
asking me to re-form the Web because they don't have the social skills 
to live in an unstructured environment more complicated than their 
mom's basement."
	"That's harsh," Dora frowned, but her brow softened as she 
realized it had been a true statement.  Most of the older, 'well 
adjusted' Webbers had no problem with the Web's dismantling.  "Where 
are you going to go now?"
	Dave shrugged.  "It will take a few weeks to make a new pocket-
dimension.  A month until it's big enough to start unpacking my things.  
I figure I'll just stay in the Super-Val-U motel down the way while I'm 
working on the calculations."
	Dora turned away from him and took a deep breath.  "You could 
always stay with me, if you'd like.  My couch folds out."
	Dave shrugged, walking past her to deposit a pair of cheesy Ikea 
lamps into the hole.  "If you wouldn't mind.  I'd hate to be a bother."
	"No!" She shook her head quickly, then chastised herself for 
reacting too quickly.  "Uhm, no, not at all."
	The apartment was nearly cleaned out now, minus one or two 
chairs.  Dave slumped down tiredly into one of them, looking at his 
fridge.  "I wonder if I just leave that fridge here if it will one day 
grow sentience and take over the world."
	"Might be fun," Dora laughed, walking over to him.  "I say leave 
it."
	"Yeah, but black-forest ham...Swiss...I think I even put some 
Dijon mustard in there.  That's a pretty potent combination."
	Dora's hands touched down on Dave's shoulders and began giving a 
rub that she hoped wasn't too obviously affectionate.  "Might not be so 
bad.  We could always fight them in a third world country and feed the 
population off of the monster's remains.  And 'black forest' sounds 
evil anyway.  It was fate."
	"I like the way you think," Dave laughed, letting his head roll 
forward.  "Wow...I guess I am tense.  Thanks."
	"Your shoulder rubs are better," she said quietly, trying to hide 
her blush.  
	"Then, it's decided," Dave looked up at her with a smile.  "But 
you have to explain it if the Senshi end up fighting monsters 
consisting of Ham and Swiss."
	
	"Why bother?" 

	They jumped and turned to see Minako in the hall, holding a spare 
key to the front door.  
	"Mina!" Dave smiled.  "Come on-"
	"It's not like you tell us anything anyway," she continued, 
ignoring his invitation.  
	Dora quickly removed her hands from Dave's shoulders.  "Uhm...I 
think I saw some more books in the other room.  I'll go get them," Dora 
squeaked, running off as quickly as she could without tripping over 
things. 
	Dave raised an eyebrow as Minako pulled up the only other chair 
in the room and sat down across from him.  The echoes of Dora's 
footsteps faded down the hall.  "Sorry I haven't called," he said.  
"It's been busy.  Most of the Web needs to be babysat through any major 
decision like this."
	"You had time to call," she said coldly.  "It only takes a 
second.  Hell, you could have called asking me to help you move.  Were 
you just going to disappear?"
	"Of course not," Dave laughed, but his tone faded as he saw the 
grave look on Venus' face.  "Mina, one of the biggest reasons I'm 
disbanding the Web is because I want to spend more time with you."	
	"Me?" she frowned.  "Or your 'project'?" 
	"What's that supposed to mean?" Dave asked, smile vaporizing.  
	"You could have called and told us," Minako said angrily.  "Just 
ten seconds!  I've timed it out!  Go on!  Say: Maury isn't really dead.  
Bet you can't stretch it past ten FUCKING seconds!" 
	Dave shifted uncomfortably in his chair at her outburst.  "You 
needed to believe it.  The Negaverse was watching for signs that Mo 
wasn't really gone.  I had to convince everyone."
	"I CAN ACT!" Minako screamed, starling him.  "God DAMN you!  
Don't give me this crap about us being unable to pretend our friend is 
dead!  Makoto!  She nearly-"
	"I understand it was hard," Dave said with a frown.  "We had just 
barely diverted the disaster, and you want me to bank on emotional 
stability when billions of lives are at stake??  I knew Makoto would be 
hurt, but she was the one person I knew could handle it," Dave said, 
leaning forward.  "Now, I'm sorry that you got so upset about-"
	The slap was louder than Dave had expected.  Dora quickly peeked 
out from behind the door frame of the hall to make sure Dave's head was 
still attached.  He raised his hand, shocked, to find a red welt on his 
cheek and a bit of blood on his lip.  
	"You bastard," Minako cried.  "She couldn't handle it.  She ran 
out in the middle of a fight and got herself killed.  Then, Pluto took 
her place.  You bastard...Pluto's DEAD!"
	Dave tested his cheek carefully, then looked up at her.  "I'm 
sorry."
	Mina just looked at him in disgust.  "All this time, you thought 
I was just part of your project.  That us Senshi were just tools for 
you to use so you didn't have to get your hands dirty!"
	Dora saw a small smirk on Dave's face and turned away when he 
nodded.  Something was wrong.
	"Yeah.  Guess you're right," Dave said, leaning back in his chair 
with his hands coming up entwined in front of his chin.  "Can you blame 
me, though?  Not too many of the Webbers are good in a fire-fight.  And 
it all worked out pretty good, didn't it?" he shrugged.  "A few 
recharges here and there, and you Senshi survived things you wouldn't 
have otherwise."
	Minako was shaking with rage.  
	"It was mutually beneficial," Dave continued.  "I use you.  You 
use me.  The bad-guys are defeated and we all live happily ever after."
	Mina threw the key at him, and he caught it with annoying 
precision.  "Go to hell, Dave."
	Dave just shrugged.  
	She turned, storming towards the door.  At the last moment, she 
spun on her heel.  "Yurusenai."
	
	The door slammed shut. 

	Dave let out the breath he had been holding in as Dora took a few 
tentative steps back into the room.  "I wouldn't expect you to," he 
whispered to Mina, looking down at the key in his hand.  
	"Why did you have to do that?" Dora whispered, kneeling down next 
to him, and cringing when she got a good look at his face.  
	"Minako," he said, turning to Dora, "had already decided I was to 
blame.  I've gotten into fights with her when she's like that, and it 
doesn't change.  This was bigger than just a little spat, though.  It 
was quicker this way."
	Dora shook her head.  "It was cold," she said, on the verge of 
tears.  
	Dave hung his head.  "I know," he said.  "But maybe she's right."
	Dora stood, heart torn over wanting to add a second slap to his 
face, or hugging him tightly.  "I'm-" she stopped herself.  
	Dave looked up at her and saw a bit of fear in her eyes.  "No," 
he said quickly, standing and wrapping his arms around her quickly.  
"Oh, God, no.  Don't even think that."
	She gave a startled little cry as he held her tightly.  "I've 
always wondered, I suppose."
	"You," Dave said, pulling her back to look in her eyes, "are not 
a project.  You never were.  The Senshi aren't.  Nobody is.  I only 
said that to Mina to end it quickly, and I wouldn't have even said 
that, but it was exactly what she was thinking.  I would rather throw 
myself in front of a bus than feel that way towards any human being."
	Dora nodded, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.  He 
was telling the truth.  
	Dave sighed, letting go of her shoulders.  "I'll call the motel."
	Dora reached down and pulled his PDA away from his hand before he 
could dial.  "No," she said quietly.  "The offer still stands."
	They caught each other in a gaze for a long, long moment, before 
Dave cleared his throat.  "I'm sorry."
	"Why?" Dora asked.
	He winced.  "I'd really like to kiss you right now, but my lip 
would probably bleed."
	"Come on," Dora said with a pink blush lighting her face.  "I 
think I have some gauze in my purse."










Epilogue:
 We Looked Like Giants 











	"You're quiet tonight," Jess whispered as they watched the moon 
slip behind a cloud.  
	Chris chuckled, lying next to her as she sat up from the sleeping 
bag.  "I'm quite certain we were loud enough to scare any wild animals 
away for miles."
	She blushed slightly in what little flicker and glow was left 
from the fire.  "That's not what I meant."
	"I'm happy," he said with a little grin.  "I talk less when I'm 
happy."
	"Ahh," she laughed.  "Explains why your budget meetings always 
run over their time limit."
	"Who told you that?" Chris asked.
	"I have my sources," Jess stuck her tongue out playfully.  
	Chris rolled over, wrapping an arm over her naked waist.  "I 
haven't felt like this for a very long time," he whispered against her.  
"That's all."
	"The feeling is mutual," she whispered, snuggling back into the 
quilted bag with him, taking his hand and running her fingers through 
his.  
	"I don't think she'll understand," Chris said.  
	"Us jealous types never do," Jess smiled.  
	"Oh, she's jealous?"
	"Not that I was planning on it," Jess nodded, "but she's banned 
me from entering Japan.  I found out last week when I tried to book a 
flight to that seminar in Hong Kong.  The poor travel agent looked 
frightened.  Thought I was a terrorist, being on the list like that."
	Chris groaned.  Their relationship hadn't been really secret to 
begin with, but there was a brief article about them in the last Time 
magazine, and ever since then, he had heard more and more gossip.  
"That just makes it harder to imagine telling her."
	"It's okay," Jess grinned.  "More air miles for stopping in 
Hawaii anyway."
	"Hawaii?" Chris blinked. 
	"Well, on the way back, for sure," she said casually, running a 
finger up and down his arm.  "Care to join me?"
	"Do they have Jolt in Hawaii?" Chris commented cautiously.  "I 
dunno..."
	"They have Jesminders in leis and nothing else," Jess shrugged.  
"Maybe on the beach in the middle of the night..." 
	"What's Jolt?" Chris laughed. 
	"I knew you'd say yes," she smiled.  "I got your ticket."
	"I'm such a travel whore."
	Jess laughed.  "Yes, but it gives parliament a break from your 
speeches.  Andrea nearly hugged me when I told her I was stealing you 
away."
	Chris sighed.  "Cute."
	"Actually, she did, Jess said casually.  "And she gave me fifty 
bucks."
	"Not funny," Chris smirked.
	"No, seriously," Jess said.  "Who do you think paid for this 
sleeping bag?"
	"I feel strangely disturbed by this turn of events," he said, 
eyes wide.  
	"Aww," she whispered, snuggling against him to stay warm in the 
cool night air.  "Don't worry.  I just told your sister I was going to 
go out and get a nice bottle of wine and a few movies to watch."
	"Sounds nice," Chris smiled as she started kissing his neck.
	"This is better."
	
	


***

	
	

	"And that one?" Mo asked.  
	Makoto giggled.  "You already asked that one.  It's Leo."
	"Looks more like a cod than a lion," he said, leaning forward to 
steal one of her fajita shells.  
	"I've had Sailor Mercury as a study partner since the ninth 
grade," she grinned, stealing one of his shells in retort.  "I think I 
know my constellations, and I would have thought with you actually 
being part of a star, you'd know a little too."
	"I told you I'm familiar with heavenly bodies," Maury said, 
nonchalantly placing a dab of guacamole on her nose.  "Yours being one 
of them.  Never said anything about stars."
	"Are there many others of these so-called heavenly bodies I 
should be knowing about?" she teased, enjoying his reaction as she 
cleaned the green dab on her nose with her finger and began licking it 
clean. 
	"None," Maury said, leaning forward again to catch a kiss on her 
lips and nose, and to steal another shell.
	Mexico was still boiling hot as October rolled around, and the 
couple had decided to sleep every day away and party all night.  Makoto 
never felt happier, and Maury had finally stopped complaining about the 
beer when he'd discovered really good tequila.  
	Attached to the tiny little hotel they were staying in was a 
little restaurant that they had eaten at every night.  It was quickly 
becoming a second home away from home.  Unlike the tourist-saturated 
areas around the beaches, this place felt lazy and comfortable.  Just 
what they both wanted. 
	Three nights ago, after a night, a day and another night of 
lovemaking, they had shown up at the restaurant exhausted, famished, 
and with a new gold addition to Makoto's ring finger.  The little boys 
in the kitchen were crushed, but wished them both well, and the little 
girls giggled at how romantic it all seemed.  Mo made sure to tip well 
to ensure their sour-cream contained no 'retribution'. 
	"Tokyo," Makoto whispered, trying to catch him off guard.  
	"Edmonton," Mo replied with a little smirk.  "I thought we agreed 
on tha-"
	"I was saying 'yes, yes' to something else entirely last night," 
the young Princess of Jupiter pouted.  "Compromise?  How about Kyoto?"
	"Las Vegas!" he said excitedly.  "Oh, come on...we wouldn't even 
need to leave the car!"
	She glared at him.  "Tokyo."
	"Vancouver?" Mo offered.  "Summer in Vancouver is beautiful."
	"Not after the funeral," she said quietly.  "Somewhere else."
	"I already got to the coast, babe," Mo laughed.
	"Hawaii?" she offered.  
	Maury pondered it for a moment.  "Alright, but if we get eaten by 
sharks..."
	"I promise to protect you," she grinned, kissing him on the lips 
happily.  "Winter?" 
	"This Winter?" 
	"Next Spring?"
	"Deal," Maury smiled, enjoying the way her face lit up.  "Next 
spring, the world better get ready for us, babe."
	"They won't know what hit them," she said, leaning in for another 
kiss.  





***




	
	Jesminder laughed as Chris sped off down the street with a wave, 
nearly running over her neighbour's annoying pet cat.  Her bed called 
out to her, though, and she had no time to plot retaliation as the 
fluffy little tabby peed on her lawn.
	Moving on autopilot, she walked into her home, locked the door, 
reset the security panel and walked over to her phone where three 
messages were blinking for her to pick up.  
	"Hey, Jess, this is Eric," her boss was first as she got 
undressed and had a quick shower, pausing the message while the water 
was running.  "I want you to go over to Queen Alexandra hospital in the 
morning and talk to the terminal ward nurses.  It looks like this whole 
'fountain of youth' story is starting to make some big waves.  Hope you 
had a fun time...tell that Fiss guy he better treat you right cause I 
know lawyers in every hell out there," he laughed.  "Take care.  Bye."
	"He will," Jess smiled as she dried her hair, then hit the 'next' 
button on the phone.  
	The next was from her new cameraman.  Camera-fan, actually.  His 
daddy knew Eric for a long time, and his daddy asked if his son could 
maybe join up with his favourite reporter.  It didn't help that he was 
only twenty and still having wet dreams about her, but Eric hadn't 
really bothered to ask things like that during the interview.  At least 
he was competent enough to make good video.  She skipped over the 
message as his 'hello!' turned into a thinly veiled request for a date.  
	She was just about to call it a night when her doctor's voice 
sounded from the machine.  "Jesminder, hi, this is Doctor Gerson.  I 
need you to call me in the morning regarding some strange blood work 
that came back from the lab.  It's important.  Hope you're feeling 
well.  Goodnight."
	Jess deleted the messages, but stayed awake long into the night, 
wondering what her doctor had wanted to see her about.  In the end, 
though, sleep took her.  
	When she woke it was still dark outside.  A strange sound was 
coming from the kitchen.  Something moved across the floor, then 
knocked into something by the garbage can.  
	"Dammit," she whispered, scratching her head and sitting up.  
"It's that fucking cat again.  How'd he get in?" she mumbled, though 
she realized she hadn't checked the window when she had walked through 
her house.  She had the bad habit of leaving it cracked open for fresh 
air. 
	She grabbed the first thing she could from her closet, which 
ended up being a ski-pole.  The blunt metal tip made her smile.  "Here, 
kitty kitty kitty..." she whispered, sneaking through the halls.  
	Something skittered across the tiles and she stopped.  It hadn't 
looked like a cat.
	"Hello?" she called out, readying the ski-pole in both hands.
	It ran through the kitchen, clicking as it went.  Jess felt the 
hair on the back of her neck stand up as she entered the room to see it 
rummaging through a spilt trash bag.
	It had four legs, and seven tiny, frazzled wings on its back.  
	She dropped the pole in horror as the baby Aszap noticed her and 
turned around.  Its tiny, burn-victim-baby face looked at her with 
cold, golden, serpent eyes.  When it hissed, she heard one word clearly 
in her head and in all the darkest places of her heart and soul.  

	Conquest!

	When she woke, her heart was racing and she felt sick.  Without 
any time to waste, she leaned over the side of the bed and vomited into 
the tiny waste bin by the dresser.  
	She groaned as the nausea finally began to pass, then moved to 
step down from bed, needing water to rinse the taste out of her mouth.  
	Her leg was bloody, and it smeared a long, wet trail out from 
between the covers.  "Oh, God..." she whispered, throwing the covers 
off of herself.  

	Blood was everywhere.  	











Epilogue:
 Cold










	"Promise me one thing," she said, holding him tightly.  "Kill it.  
Finish it off.  I don't care what you have to do to me, but make sure 
it never sees the light of day."


	Chris woke, startled as the memory faded into reality.  "Fuck," 
he whispered, looking over at the time.  Noon.  Rei would be arriving 
in an hour or two.  
	Snow had come early that year.  Since October...when he and Jess 
would have been in Hawaii...to December twenty-forth, he hadn't 
remembered a warm day ever having graced his windows.  
	Fiss held his head in his hands for a moment, still swimming in 
Jess' last few days.  The cherub had come back like a cancer.  They 
didn't think the cells in her blood would be able to regenerate like 
that, but it seemed almost that her own body was helping them grow.  
	When Jess told him what Marish said...about this one being 
special and becoming a part of her...well, it suddenly all made sense.  
It was taking over her body, not just growing inside her.  The two 
months that they thought everything had been clear and clean, they had 
stopped administering drugs to help her immune system fight it.  It got 
another hold of her, and...
	He didn't want to think about it anymore.  Especially when he had 
been forced to destroy it.

	Jess' last words had been 'thank you' as he'd raised his sword to 
strike. 	
	
	Christopher Fiss woke up and went through is morning routine.  He 
pooped.  Then he had a good, long practice with his training script 
(more and more, his opponents took on the form of Aszaps), and then had 
a long, long shower afterwards, washing away the combined sweat, grime 
and tears he had shed while he hacked the monsters apart.  
	When he walked out of the bathroom, he was only half shocked to 
see Michael SkitZ on his balcony, enjoying an afternoon smoke.  Knowing 
Michael would wait for him, he took his time to dress in a wine-
coloured tee-shirt and his pants before letting his wings come back on 
as his coat.  Curiosity caught him when he saw that Michael had a long 
box under his right arm, and it was messily gift-wrapped in a variety 
of news-paper clippings.  
	"Before you ask," SkitZ said as Fiss opened the door, "there was 
no fucking way I was going to the mall today to buy wrapping paper.  I 
figured you wouldn't care either way."
	"Thanks," Chris laughed as he was handed the box.  
	"Open it now," Michael grinned, hopping down from the balcony's 
edge to stand by his friend.  "Come on, I want to see if it fits."
	Chris blinked, looking at the box again.  "Is it a scarf?"
	"Open it," Michael said, trying not to hide his excitement.  
	"But I didn't get you anything," Fiss admitted. 
	"Bah," SkitZ said, finishing his smoke and putting it out on the 
bit of snow that had accumulated on the railing.  "I still owe you for 
overhauling Potato.  Hasn't stalled once.  What did you do to it 
again?"
	"New transmission," Chris said, kneeling down to open the box. 
	"Yeah," SkitZ said.  "Fuckin' sweet ride now.  Pimpin.  All the 
homies are impressed."
	Under the wrapping paper was - not surprisingly - a long, wooden 
box made of pine.  "A snake coffin?" Chris joked. 
	"Dammit, open it before I open it for you!"
	He laughed and opened it slowly.  The smell changed from pine to 
something indescribable and he took a step back when he saw a white-oak 
katana scabbard on crushed white velvet.  Along the side were High 
Theban characters that wove back and forth into a gentle wave-pattern.  
A long, silk rope was wrapped around the traditional belt-hook points, 
and it seemed to have some silvery metal strands woven into the fibres.  
When he lifted it up, it felt surprisingly light and warm.  
	"Gabriel had one last request," Michael said.  "That her Mourning 
Oak be used for scabbards for all the new Knights.  It is the highest 
honour one can receive from a comrade who has passed away, and you WILL 
accept it without grumbling how it's too much, too awesome, or too 
creepy.  Understood?" 
	Chris nodded, then rushed back into his apartment to bring out 
his sword, which he had been keeping in a balsa-wood temporary 
scabbard.  SkitZ helped him crack the faux scabbard in half, then, 
holding his breath, Christopher pushed the sword into the white-oak 
sheath.  
	"It..." he looked up in amazement.  "My God, it fits better than 
the original!"
	"Stronger, too," Michael said.  "It has its own aura, and each 
item created out of a mourning tree inherits unique powers.  I think 
Bartael's is some kind of sensory enhancement.  He can see for miles 
when he has his sword out."
	Chris looked up from his sword in confusion.  "Bartael?" 
	Michael leaned forward.  "The first new Knight.  Third 
Generation.  Taking over Gabriel's house.  You'd like him.  Solid head 
on his shoulders.  He also is the one who crafted that scabbard for 
you.  He's brilliant with a chisel and Theban.  Never seen anything 
like it."
	It was hard to ignore the pride in SkitZ' voice, and Chris found 
himself very happy for the man.  "I can't wait to meet him."
	"After new-years," Michael said, dusting off his coat.  "You have 
a busy week if I'm not mistaken." 
	"Please," he sighed.  "Don't remind me."
	Michael nodded, then patted him on the back as Chris attached the 
new scabbard to his hip.  "Gabe's watching over you now, man.  She'll 
help out.  Lord knows I needed it, and look at me.  Not so screwed up."
	"Says who?" Chris chuckled. 
	"The voices in my head say I'm cool," Michael smiled broadly, 
showing all his teeth.  "Anyway, I'm outta here.  Promised I'd drop by 
and give Raziel some script sand.  Figure he's about old enough to 
start using it."
	"What's it made out of?" Fiss blinked.  "Not brains, is it?"
	"No," Michael beamed.  "Turns out that you can use mimes just 
fine."
	Chris laughed.
	"I kid.  It's actually made from coral," he cleared his throat.  
"But come to think of it, I should try ground-up mimes.  Maybe the 
spells will cast silently then."
	"Yeah, yeah," Chris laughed.  "Take off, Santa-SkitZ.  I'll see 
you later."
	"Merry Christmas, man," Michael smiled, then jumped off the 
balcony.  A moment later, Fiss saw him flying around to the other side 
of the building where the Hooze apartment was.
	
	Gabriel's scabbard felt very good on his hip and Fiss found 
himself slowly sneaking up on a good mood for the first time since 
Jess' death.  He grabbed a Jolt from the fridge and a piece of old 
pumpkin pie he still had laying around from thanksgiving.  Said good 
night to a snoozing Beavis in the corner and locked the door behind 
him.  He was humming 'Christmas Time' by the Smashing Pumpkins as he 
reached the garage.  
	Remembering who he was about to go meet, though, his mood fluxed 
back downwards.  He decided to make one final stop by the cemetery.  
	It was completely silent, though fresh flowers had been laid by 
families paying their holiday respects to their loved ones.  Jess had 
been buried in a quiet little corner of the cemetery that overlooked 
the city, and the walkways had been freshly swept that morning to give 
people access.
	Chris reached down and drew a few simple Theban characters in the 
fresh snow over her grave, and a single white rose drew itself up from 
the cold.  
	"Wish me luck," he smiled, knowing that she never did understand 
his dislike of the phrase.
	He jetted to the airport far too fast, but the gods of asphalt 
and pylons were merciful upon his lead foot and no horrible accidents 
occurred, and when he parked and got into the crowded Christmas 
terminal, he felt the uncontrollable urge to do something about it.  

	"Moo."

	Nobody moved.  He grinned.  "Don't say I didn't warn you," he 
whispered to himself creepily, scaring a baby who happened to be 
looking at him at the time.  

	"MOOO!  MOOO!  MOOOOOOO!  MOO MOO MOOOOOOO!" 

	He carved a swath of vocal bovine vengeance through the crowd, 
all the way up to the international arrivals gate, and made it in time 
to severely traumatize a little boy who was playing with a plush cow-
toy before the plane from Tokyo arrived.
	"Maybe she got called off on business," Chris told himself, 
looking at the gate as people began to come off the plane.  "Or, maybe 
I'll see her and just go all ga-ga for her again."
	"Moo?" the little boy asked. 
	Chris glared at him until he left. 
	Those and a hundred other possibilities came to him in the span 
of the next two minutes, watching the passengers slow down to a 
trickle.  Maybe he would see Rei and it would be like magic again.  
Maybe she was just showing up to spite him for dating.  Maybe she had 
been eaten by Mothra on the way, and was now one of those little 
annoying sprites that sang the Mothra song.  She really did have a 
beautiful voice...
	"Chris?"
	He jumped in surprise as she appeared behind him, and the 
traumatized Moo kid laughed at him.  
	Chris dusted himself off and found himself drawn into a warm hug 
as Rei wrapped around him.  "Chris!  I missed you so much..." she 
sighed happily into his shirt.  
	"I didn't see you come in," he laughed, feeling foolish. 
	"Ambassador Entrance is a different gate," she blushed.  "Sorry, 
I should have told you."
	Chris found himself looking her over.  She really was a gorgeous 
woman.  Her long, raven hair framed her face as she looked up past a 
few stray strands of it, and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her.  
	She turned red.  "Sorry, my breath is horrible.  All-night 
flights are murder.  Can we go somewhere to freshen up?"
	"They have a guest washroom on the upper levels," he said with a 
shrug. 
	"Perfect!" Rei beamed, handing him her luggage.  "Wait right 
here.  I'll be back in a bit."
	Chris blinked as her heavy carry-on bag nearly dislocated his 
shoulder.  "Uhm, sure.  Yeah, I'll be right here."
	He watched her run off to the elevator, blowing a kiss as she 
stepped inside and disappeared.  Chris looked down at her luggage and 
sighed.  "So," he asked the cases.  "I heard you like mudkips?"
	
	They had reserved a quiet booth in Chris' favourite pub, and 
between her freshening up, traffic, and annoying phone calls, was 
nearly eight by the time they had a chance to actually sit down and 
talk.  Chris felt a small, shrinking portion of himself looking forward 
to talking to her, and a growing, spiteful portion of himself looking 
forward to going home and downloading pictures of pretty girls from the 
internet instead.  Hell, right now, he was just looking forward to 
playing some Tetris.  At least he understood Tetris. 	
	
	"You seem distant," Rei said as she sat back down in their booth 
from the third phone call of the evening.  
	"A lot has happened," Chris said quietly, looking down into his 
pint of Strongbow.  "You can't expect me to-"
	"Of course not," Rei smiled, reaching across the table and 
grabbing his hands forcefully from his drink.  "I'm sorry.  Why don't 
you tell me what's on your mind?"
	Chris wanted to scream.  Tell her all about the last few months.  
The joy.  The pain.  Everything in between.  And yet, it all seemed so 
private.  Just for him.  Not for her.  
	"You remember after the Great Darkness?" he asked as she sipped 
her martini.  
	She paused, trying to guess what he was getting at. 
	"The fox.  Mickey the fox," Chris smiled.
	She laughed and hung her head.  "Oh, yeah.  I remember now."
	"It's worse than that," he said.
	She blinked, then regarded him with a small smile.  "I don't 
mind."
	"Yes, you would," Fiss said, taking a long sip from his pint-mug.
	She let out a quiet sigh, starting to feel his anxiety.  
"Remember how you said you'd give me some time?"
	He nodded.
	"I think I'm done," she said quietly.  "I think I'm ready to 
forgive."
	"Who?" Chris asked on instinct. 
	"Pardon?" Rei smiled. 
	Chris looked up from his cider.  "Who are you forgiving?"
	Her smile faded.  "You.  Me.  Us, I guess.  We ruined a beautiful 
thing."
	"Ahh."
	Fiss raised an arm, and a moment later, the waitress arrived.  
"Check, please," he said. 
	When Rei gave him a questioning look, he simply smiled.  "I'm 
driving.  You go ahead, though.  It's Christmas," he offered helpfully. 
	Rei's eyes lit up.  "You know...you're right.  Hey, waitress?  
Another margarita, please."
	Fiss ordered some chicken wings to tide himself over like he had 
that night with SkitZ and Gabe.  
	
	God.  

	That had been so much fun.  How was it that tonight felt like 
pulling teeth?
	He looked around at the pub, hoping to find some sorrow to 
bastion himself within.  A drunk dad hiding from his broken family, or 
a bunch of people who had just lost loved ones.  All he found were 
laughing couples and quiet, contemplative old folks remembering a dozen 
more Christmases than Fiss had yet to see.  It made him both happy and 
sad all at once.
	Rei was enjoying herself, at least.  With two margarita glasses 
empty and her third one half-full, she cast a very affectionate eye 
towards Fiss, who was busy trying to coax the marrow out of the chicken 
wing-bones of his plate.  
	"How come you never took advantage of me that night?" she asked 
slyly.  
	"Pardon?" Chris blinked, looking up from his plate for the first 
time in at least an hour.  
	"When I came by," she explained.  "Before you went to Eden."
	He smiled.  "It seemed a shame to ruin all the deep soul-
searching with some nookie, I guess.  Plus, you were so tired you could 
barely stand."
	"You seemed fine," she teased. 
	"Yeah, well.  Caffeine will do that," he shrugged. 
	Rei took a long sip of her margarita, nearly finishing it.  "So, 
what ever happened with that reporter?"
	Fiss felt his body freeze.  
	"Was she real?  Or were you just making her up to make me 
jealous?"
	
	The glass broke in Fiss' hand. 

	A flurry of activity followed it.  The waitress and Rei both 
tried to help him clean up.  Saying it was an accident, and the glass 
must have had a crack, and oh my god, I'm so sorry!  He just found 
himself staring at Rei the whole time as the events seemed to run in 
fast-forward mode.  
	"So," Rei said, after the broken glass was gone and he looked 
down to see nothing in his hand.  "What do you say we get out of here?"
	He nodded slowly and stood, feeling his body act without his 
direct intervention.  It would have been a very interesting sensation 
if he hadn't been so lividly pissed-off.  
	Zangetsu was parked up the road a few blocks to avoid the traffic 
of a surprisingly active bar-going Christmas crowd.  They started 
walking up the street.  Rei was pleasantly tipsy, but Chris could feel 
that she was simply at the 'buzzed' phase.  Not drunk enough to say 
something you didn't mean.  

	That would have been better.

	There were, to his estimate, forty-seven steps to the car.  And, 
somehow, he kept count in order not to do anything silly like slap her 
or scream.  
	"To be honest, with these dreams over my head, I've been scared 
to go anywhere near you," Rei sighed, holding him tight as they walked.  
"My last fire reading...I swear, it's probably the reason I turned away 
from the temple for so long.  Do you remember?"
	Chris nodded, feeling a strange vindication in her words.  
"Yeah," he said simply. 
	Rei nodded quickly.  "See?  So you understand!  It's not 
something you can ignore."

	Thirty. 

	"I know you couldn't possibly understand completely," Rei sighed, 
hugging his arm.  "Watching such a horrible thing happen to someone you 
love.  I'm so glad you've always been free of that."

	Twenty five. 

	"Miharu and you have always been so close.  Sometimes, I wonder 
if I've always been second in her mind to you.  I'm not so sure 
anymore.  Maybe it's just her projecting her fears of family onto us.  
Do you think?"

	Nineteen. 

	"I mean, I know you'd never take advantage of anyone, but it just 
seemed so real.  Terrifyingly real."

	Fifteen.

	"And then, this reporter.  A gold digger if I've ever seen one.  
Did she ask for your credit card right away, or was it more of a 
courtship?"

	Ten.  Chris sped up.

	"I'm glad we can start over," she smiled as Chris unlocked the 
doors and slipped inside the car.  She opened the door before he could 
lock it.  With a great, happy breath, Rei Hino plopped herself down in 
the seat next to Christopher.  "So, when are you going to take me home 
and ravage me?" she asked sweetly. 
	Chris placed both hands on the steering wheel, keys in his hand 
instead of the ignition.
	Rei's smile slowly faded after he didn't answer.  "Chris?"
	He didn't respond.  
	"Are you alright?" Rei asked, reaching over to check his 
temperature with a raised wrist to his forehead. 
	Chris batted it away.  Rei recoiled in shock.  
	"Aren't you going to take me home?" Rei asked, confusion 
paramount on her voice.  
	He slowly turned to her.  "No."
	"Fissy," she whispered.  "Come on, it's late.  We should get 
back." 
	"Get out," Chris said to her, arms still firmly attached to the 
wheel.  His glare was legendary. 
	Her resolve came back and she shook her head.  "That's enough.  
Stop this.  I understand you're upset, but you don't have to take it 
out on me just because I'm reaching out to you after so long!"
	Chris said nothing.
	Rei frowned.  "Is this about the reporter?" she asked, but Chris 
just kept glaring at her.  "Oh, come on..." she sighed.
	He reached down slowly and hit the 'unlock' button on his door, 
just in case Rei thought the door wasn't open.  
	"This is childish," she frowned, crossing her arms.
	Chris said nothing, but instead turned to the view outside his 
windshield.
	"Chris," Rei whispered.  "I'm trying to open up to you.  After 
all we've been through.  After all these bad dreams and feelings.  I 
want to come back to you now."
	A small smirk appeared on Chris' mouth, but otherwise, he did not 
move one muscle.
	"Talk to me!" she shouted at him, bucking in her seat.  "For 
fucks sake, don't just sit there!"

	Chris just sat there.

	She sighed, turning to view what he was viewing.  "You win.  
Argument over.  Can we just go home?"
	Nearly a minute passed.  Chris didn't move.  Rei turned back to 
him, fully sober and fire in her eyes.  "What the hell is wrong with 
you?"
	Chris' only response was to grip the wheel tighter. 
	"Fine," Rei sighed, looking out the passenger window.  "Just take 
me to the airport, then.  I'll go home and leave you to your 
depression."
	Nothing.
	Rei turned to see if he heard her, and found him glaring at her 
when she did.  
	"I'm not taking a cab," she told him, crossing her arms in a 
resolute manner. 
	Chris raised an eyebrow, hands creaking against the leather 
steering wheel.  
	"I'm not," she frowned, leaning back in the seat. 

	Ten minutes passed. 

	Rei finally snapped.  "You're insane!" she shouted, echoing in 
the small car's cabin.  "What the hell has happened to you, Chris?  I 
thought you said you'd wait for me?  That you'd be patient?  That you'd 
be there to help me?"
	Chris turned to her and nodded.  "I grew up," he said simply.  
"And I realized that it's not all my fault."
	She sighed, then turned away to the same street that she had seen 
for the last ten or so minutes.  "Fine.  Just...come on.  Let's go."
	"No," Chris said, resolutely.  "Grab a cab.  Use the expense 
account if you have to.  But I'm not moving.."

	Another five minutes.

	Rei turned to him, seeing his gaze set firmly on the road before 
them.  "Fine," she whispered.  "I'm leaving."
	She did so with deliberate lethargy, hoping he would turn and 
stop her.  Beg her to come back.  She even had her speech ready for 
when he did.  
	He didn't.  And the moment she shut the door, the black sports 
car's engine revved into life.  She tried to open the door again, but 
the lock prevented her from doing so. 
	Speechless, Rei Hino, Princess of Mars and Guardian of Neo Queen 
Serenity watched the car peel away from her, throwing snow from the 
road up into a tall rooster-tail as it went.  
	When the car turned around in a sharp One-Eighty turn, however, 
her smile returned and she walked out onto the street.  "Finally.  He's 
come to his senses," she told herself, leaning down to the window that 
he opened.  
	"It's a real long flight back to Japan," Chris said as the window 
stopped half-way down.  "I don't want you thinking I'm just mad or 
pissed off so you can make up reasons for why this is just me being 
childish.  No.  Not this time.  I don't want any misconceptions, so 
shut-up and listen."
	Rei was speechless regardless.
	"I would never," Chris said angrily, "touch anyone like your 
father did.  I would never disrespect a wonderful woman or little girl 
like that, no matter how close or distant they were to me.  And," he 
leaned out of the window at her, "I would NEVER hold a nightmare or 
vision against anyone.  Especially someone I loved."
	She sighed, shaking her head.  "Chris...it's not-"
	"I'm tired of being blamed for things I didn't do!" Chris 
growled.  "I've had enough of that bullshit in Eden, and I've learned 
that people CAN forgive, and I've loved them very much.  I don't know 
why you couldn't, and I'm too damned tired of it.  Take some 
responsibility for your own damn actions.  Goodbye, Rei."
	
	Rei's eyes were wide as the car peeled off down the street.  This 
time, it did not turn around. 











Epilogue:
 Grandpa Yuri VS the Nazis. 











	The green reporter with the push-up bra was trying very hard not 
to blush as Curtis Bethlehem led her down the line of people with his 
hand on the small of her back.  
	"Not at all, Julie," he said with a practiced 'on-air' laugh.  
"Eden is no more dangerous than the streets of LA.  Great opportunities 
hidden behind marginal danger."
	"Do you feel that your corporation, Heavy Arms, will receive any 
negative attention by winning this bid?" she asked.  
	"Again," Curtis said, "I'd have to say no.  I've heard of only 
superficial protests.  Nothing has, of yet, reached our board of 
directors."
	"Why do you think that is?" Julie asked.  "Competition is fierce 
in nearly all the markets that Heavy Arms prospers in.  Do you believe 
you got special treatment?"
	Curtis tried not to let on that he was quickly getting bored as 
they passed by Wilder and Dude, who were standing in line, re-checking 
their packs and equipment for dramatic emphasis while on camera.
	"You have to understand that diplomatic ties can assist in 
endeavours such as this," the Duke explained.  "We've worked hard to 
promote a peaceful relationship with Crystal Canada, as well as our 
other allies and trading partners.  This allows New York to continue to 
prosper in the midst of all the unrest and war you see on the news 
today.  Also, may I ask if this interview will be shown to young 
children?"
	Julie shrugged.  "It will be on later tonight."
	"Ahh, good," Curtis smiled happily.  "So I can say none of the 
other bids had the balls to go through with such a risky endeavour such 
as this.  Can I not?"
	She blushed but nodded.  "I think that will be fine."
	"Good," he cleared his throat.  "Today's society is riddled with 
people unwilling to take risks and who are scared the moment unexpected 
happens.  I, for one, have no problem taking risks when it will help my 
city or our allies.  All those other countries and bidding companies 
don't complain because they're hoping we go in and fail."
	"Don't you think it's a possibility?"
	He grinned.  "Not at all, Julie."
	
	Off to the side, a young woman slid up to the line and tapped 
Dude on the shoulder, startling him.  
	"Asenia," he sighed, seeing her wide, beaming smile.  "Been 
working on the cloak again, haven't you?"
	The research doctor nodded, pointing to her lab-coat.  "Negates 
passive magic up to thirty nine Thaums in strength within a five foot 
field.  Nifty, huh?"
	"I still heard her sneaking up on you," West said, loading a .45 
clip at a small table by the gate to Eden.  Asenia stuck out her tongue 
playfully at the man, who heard her do it and did the same.
	Dude chuckled quietly at the exchange.  "It looks good on you.  
Are you coming with us?" he asked. 
	"No," she said, not entirely sounding sad about it.  "I'm not 
much of the 'dragon slayer' type, and I'm only really here for the 
Edmonton Meta-Health conference."
	"Conferences," West muttered.  "Give me big game hunting any day 
over having to listen to ten doctors dribble on about their latest 
paper like they're comparing jock-sizes."
	Asenia ignored him and turned to listen to her 'older brother' 
talking to the reporter with an excited look on his face.  "He's really 
proud of you."
	"Too proud," a young man next to them said with a sigh, dusting 
his jacket off for the millionth time.  
	"Danny," Senie smiled.  "Thank your sister for the cookies next 
time you see her, please."
	Danny nodded idly.  Also in the group was a man she only knew by 
the name of Bronx.  An old kick-back to his fighter-pilot days.  On his 
back, a pair of long, metal objects could be seen underneath his huge 
backpack designed to hide them.  He waved to Senie as he munched on a 
freeze-dried meal bar.  
	She turned around to leave the 'security' team and check in on 
the research team that would be going with them, then jumped in shock 
as she noticed Quick suddenly standing next to her.  "Please, stop 
that!" 
	Quick was a young Korean boy just on the better side of puberty.  
Unfortunately, due to his time-manipulation powers, he had an 
accelerated version of ADD that drove her (and most others) crazy.  The 
teenager laughed.  "Sorry, I was just testing your coat."
	"Passive magic," Asenia explained, flexing her fist so she 
wouldn't be tempted to wring the boy's neck.  "You are very much NOT 
passive."
	The boy shrugged, then ran off down the loading bay at surprising 
speeds.  Before Senie had taken a step, he ran back over to her.  
"Where do you want the boxes?"
	Her eye betrayed a nervous twitch.  "I'm not going.  Ask Grant.  
He's in charge when I'm not."
	"Right!" Quick laughed, then was down the bay a moment later, 
causing a minor storm of papers and debris to fly behind him.
	After searching around for Dr. Grant, the boy came running back 
over to Senie, who felt very certain she could clip the boy with her 
elbow and not break any of her bones in the process.	
	Wilder stepped in front of her and stopped the boy in his tracks.  
"Hey, Quick," he said turning a side-glance to Asenia.  "Have you ever 
heard the story about Grandpa Yuri?"
	"No?" Quick said excitedly.  "What's it about?"
	Asenia whispered a quick 'thank you', then ran away while she 
still could.  
	Wilder's face lit up with a wicked smile.  "I've never told you 
of Grandpa Yuri?  Well then..." 

	"Why are so many medical staff going?" Julie asked as the 
interview came to its last few minutes.  "Are you expecting many 
casualties?"
	"As part of our bid," Curtis said, "we offered to provide 
humanitarian aid to those in need while in Eden.  In addition to the 
three full trauma and care units, we are bringing several hundred 
pounds of medical supplies and emergency food stores.  I figured why 
not help out since we'll be in the area?"
	Julie smiled and nodded.  "That's quite kind."
	"Saving lives is everyone's responsibility," Curtis said, looking 
into the camera.  "It is an honour to be representing Earth with such a 
noble team."
	West turned to Dude.  "He's laying it on pretty thick, isn't he?" 
he asked as his tenth spare clip was loaded onto his belt.  
	"That's the boss for you," Dude just shrugged. 
	Curtis turned back to the reporter when he saw someone in the 
shadows, waiting for him quietly.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, Julie, we 
should be getting ready to head out."
	"Of course!" Julie said.  "Thank you very much for your time, 
Mister Bethlehem."

	As the camera and reporter left to be escorted out of the bay by 
the Crystal Canada Coats, Mister Bethlehem walked casually over to the 
shadowy sections between the cargo containers and cleared his throat.  
	"Yeah, yeah," a voice whispered.  "I know you're there.  You know 
I'm here."
	"You're the one that wants to play these bullshit cloak and 
dagger games," Curtis said with a cynical smirk.  "I half expected you 
to start wanting to use code phrases."
	The voice in the dark chuckled.  "That would be cool.  'The fat-
man walks alone'."
	"'Your mother blows goats'," he answered.  His expression turned 
from humour to dead seriousness.  "What's the news, Brian?"
	"They want an answer," 'Brian' replied under his breath.  "Now."
	"I've already told them, fuck off with that," Curtis hissed, 
reaching into his coat for a cigarette.  
	"Hey," the voice sighed, tiredly.  "Don't shoot the messenger.  
I'm on your side, remember?"
	Curtis lit up his smoke while none of the Coats were looking 
(damn no-smoking signs) and felt his muscles relax as he took a drag.  
"Yeah, I remember.  I just don't like this."
	"They're wanting you to kill people.  Who would like that?" Brian 
asked.  "No, that's not it," he corrected.  "They're asking you to kill 
people you don't hate.  I know you certainly have no problem offing 
people you don't like."
	A wicked smile showed behind Curtis' smoke.  "True.  True," he 
said as the smile faded.  "But if you really want me to be an evil 
bastard, the problem is that it's not just a matter of blowing up a 
building.  People will want a guilty party for it and if it ties back 
to me I'd be deader the than disco.  Not to mention the cost of 
rebuilding, dealing with one committee after another in order for them 
to figure out what I tell them happened, and aid to all the people who 
were wounded or lost someone in it.
	"However, let's pretend I'm not as evil as I think I am and 
really do have some sort of creamy nougat of humanity inside me," he 
continued after a long drag from the cigarette.
	"Nougat of humanity?" Brian interrupted with a quiet chuckle.
	"Bite me," Curtis replied.  "These are human lives we're talking 
about.  Folks just going about their lives and expecting me to be 
picking up the slack and keeping them safe.  It's shitty of the Dawn to 
ask me to kill people in my charge like that.  Especially when they 
just treat it like I have to make the choice between Chinese or pizza 
for dinner."
	"Well," Brian said, "you could tell them to go fuck themselves.  
But remember, the only reason you got as far as you did was-"
	"By not being bullied by assholes like them," Curtis smiled 
pleasantly, hiding his smoke behind his back as a Coat walked by.  
"They can't make me kill my own people, Brian."
	"You know it isn't that simple," Brian whispered back.  "Man, I 
feel for you.  It's a shit choice, but it IS a choice.  You decide now, 
or you know they'll choose for you and probably hit five buildings 
instead of one."
	Curtis said nothing.
	"Fine, I'll go back and relay your message," Brian said angrily.  
"Don't say I never gave you a chance-"
	"The Garden."
	Brian cleared his throat.  "Pardon?"
	Curtis turned to him with a poisonous look.  "Tell them it's the 
Garden."
	"You sure?  I mean, they just said a landmark with casualties.  
That's rather..."
	"Much?" Curtis shrugged.  "A bit.  But who would believe that 
terrorists would want to blow up the Cloisters.  Naw, if we're going to 
do this, let's do this right."
	The man nodded, just barely visible in the shadows.  "You'll have 
until Friday to make it happen."
	"It will happen," Curtis said coldly, turning back around to view 
the massive Eden Gate.  
	Brian reached out and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.  "This 
will get them off your back for a while.  It's for the best." 

	The man in the shadows turned into a small, flickering ball of 
light, then sped upwards and through the roof. 

	Senie saw the light and her eyes trailed over to her brother, who 
had an angry glare under his paste-on smile.  It softened slightly as 
she walked over but it did not disappear.  
	"Brian?" she asked quietly. 
	"Yeah," Curtis said quietly.  "How much did you hear?"
	She blushed.  "I honestly don't mean to eavesdrop, you know.  
It's just that...sound...and the...waves..."
	"I know, sis," he smiled honestly at her reaction. 
	Asenia looked down at her feet.  "Madison Square Gardens?"
	"Yeah," Curtis said, leading her away from the gates as they 
opened up to admit the NYC Team.  "They'll want it during game time, 
too.  Three or four janitors won't cut it."
	"Oh my God..." she whispered, eyes widening.  "You can't be 
seriously considering that."
	Curtis said nothing, but his grave look was affirmative enough. 
	"You can't!" she gasped.  "The Golden Dawn will only-"
	"Please," Curtis hung his head and rubbed his temple with his 
right hand.  "Please don't say it.  Just hearing their name gives me a 
headache."
	Senie looked flustered.  "Sorry, I was a bit more concerned with 
the mass murder you're about to commit!"
	They both turned and smiled as another Coat walked by, eyeing 
them suspiciously.  
	"Sis," he sighed, "they would have done it anyway."
	"But YOU shouldn't be the one that has to!" she told him sadly, 
holding his hands.  "It's horrible!"
	"It's a test," Curtis said darkly.  "They've given me far too 
much freedom and they want to see if I'm still their puppet.  I have to 
make them believe that I am.  Even if it doesn't last long, we need 
time."
	"Sir," a mountainous man said, walking towards them.  "The team 
is ready."
	"Thanks, Pike," Curtis nodded, smoothly ditching his cigarette 
underneath his heel.  "Bring the car around.  I'll be out in a second."
	Senie looked at him with worried eyes.  Pike already knew what 
was going on, she suspected.  "Tell him he doesn't have to do this," 
she begged her cousin. 
	Pike clearly wanted to, but instead, turned and walked away as 
the gates were opened and the dark warehouse was bathed in flickering 
light.
	"It really is for the best," Curtis said, his face turning back 
into a forced smile.
	"How can you say that?" she said, anger paramount on her voice.
	He looked towards the gate.  "This is the last time.  That's why 
we need this mission.  We need something they haven't seen before.  
Then, we thank them for never darkening our door step again."
	Asenia realized it was pointless to argue with him when he had 
his mind made up like he did.  But there was something in his words 
that did not beckon to desperation.  He was confident, as always, that 
his plan would succeed.  
	"I should get back to the conference," she said, dejected.  "I'll 
ready the labs back home after the flight tomorrow."
	"Asenia," he said gravely.  "No trauma teams."
	It was only due to her chocolate skin that Asenia didn't turn 
pale.  "But...brother...!"
	"No, teams.  No hints that we knew," he explained quietly.  "It 
has to be a surprise.  Got it?"
	She nodded weakly.  "Got it."
	Asenia and the Team left on their missions.  Curtis stood in the 
middle of it all and, at the last second, waved to West.  "After you 
guys get back it's going to be a very different world," he said to 
himself.  A small grin began growing on his lips.

	"I never did like the Knicks, anyway."











Final Epilogue
 Never Ending Light











	New Years Eve, 3008 was not so different than the previous few 
thousand.  

	In the grand scheme of things, the Universe sill turned.  Time 
marched on.  The Solar System still performed its perfect, precise 
dance, year after year and day after day.  In the spring, the flowers 
would bloom.  The summer would bring all forms of life.  The fall would 
see the hardy prepare, and the brief expire.  Winter would reset the 
cycle and ready the world for the coming thaw.  
	
	Maury Sol, Andrea Hooze and Christopher Fiss sat on top of the 
hill they had sat upon countless times, overlooking the city of 
Calgary, Crystal Canada.  It was close enough to the bus routes that 
they hadn't bothered driving.  Each held a mug in their hands with 
various degrees of alcohol in the murky cola-liquid within.  
	"Does anyone else remember the nineties?" Maury quipped. 
	"Vaguely," Chris smiled, looking down into his drink.  
	"You old geezers...It was just a little while ago," Hooze 
laughed, turning to them both.  "Oh, come on.  Don't date yourselves.  
You remember Captain Planet like any one of us."
	"I wish I could forget," Chris laughed.  "A green mullet?  Come 
ON."
	"And Sea-Quest?" Maury scoffed.  "What the HELL were they 
thinking?"
	Hooze turned beet red.  "You both can shut the fuck up.  Sea 
Quest rocked."
	"Eighties were better," Maury offered.
	"Agreed," Fiss nodded.  "Airwolf, MacGyver and Knight Rider."
	"Assholes," Hooze said.  "I was an eighties baby.  Only remember 
the last bit of it."
	"You didn't miss much," Maury laughed. 
	"Yeah," Chris chuckled.  "Only Airwolf, MacGyver and Knight 
Rider.  You missed the most of the mullets and assholes riding around 
in De Loreans."
	"Still," Hooze pouted, nursing her drink.  
	"Trenchcoat Mafia," Chris mumbled.  "Eighties were far superior."
	"Late nineties," Hooze said quickly.  "Internet, anime and Jolt?"
	"Fair enough," both Fiss and Maury laughed. 
	"I can still whip you in Killer Instinct," Fiss said quietly to 
Mo. 
	Mo gave Fiss the middle finger.  "Fuck you, Riptor."
	Hooze smiled, deciding it was time the two came together on 
something.  "Penny from Inspector Gadget."
	Maury and Fiss both turned to her, then each other.  "She was 
hot," they said, simultaneously.  
	"Boys," Hooze smirked, taking a sip of her drink. 
	They both blushed and Maury turned away.  Fiss cleared his 
throat.  "I miss it," he said quietly.
	"What?" Hooze asked.
	"This," Maury answered.  "We all miss this," he offered to Fiss' 
nod and Hooze's silent agreement.  
	"So much has happened," Chris said, standing up with his drink.  
"We've grown.  Seen the world.  Gained families.  We've tasted death.  
Life.  Everything in between.  We've given birth to new nations.  New 
people.  New friends.  Seen the world change in a complete one-eighty 
of what we knew when we were children.  We've come of age, then turned 
to the next generation with expectant eyes.  We've read the cards and 
found both folly and fortune in their faces.  The dice show us 
blessings and bastardizations.  Even the media we grew upon, spoon fed 
until we felt bloated, saturated and packed full of...It's all changed.  
Changed into something new, for a generation we aren't and a world we 
don't control.  We've become the old men and women.  The parents 
instead of the Nintendo Generation.  My God.  Responsibility given to 
those who made Mario jump into that little hole in World 1-1!?!  Are 
they serious?  Of course they are," he shouted out over the city.  
"This.  This is our life.  This is our responsibility.  A scary 
amalgamation of those things we thought were never our fault, and those 
things we always suspected were ours and would be ours when the blame 
came.  You need not look any further than our own sickly, pale hands as 
we reach towards that brave new horizon.  That promise of a future we 
could never comprehend, want, or understand, but were compelled to 
witness come into existence by the very shortcomings and faults that 
drive us forward.  Will we see salvation in the arms of those artists 
we believe to be 'too poppy', and the movies we think are 'too campy'?   
Will we recognize these things, as we wished our own parents would 
while we grew up with Mario, Norris and Gates?  Will the horrors of 
Dragon Ball Z be replaced by Cartoon-Network-Dubbed One-Piece?  Will 
the joys of Gak be removed by a Playstation Portable?  Will THAC0 
become D20 forever, just because it was impossible to calculate while 
you were drinking?  Will My Little Pony turn into Yaoi Harry-Potter 
Fanfiction between Ron and Snape?  Will Jolt always be remembered by 
the sudden pop of a can, instead of the subtle hiss of the bottle?  My 
God!  Ten years.  And look at what has happened!  Are you so sure this 
is what we want?"

	Maury and Hooze stared at him as he turned around. 

	"We took it all," Chris shouted out over the night's air.  "Took 
it all and we ran with it without question.  Without reason, and with a 
certain aversion to Providence, we marched on.  While words like 
'Destiny' and 'Future' and 'Fate' seemed like things we would only 
experience in the Matrix, some twisted sitcom, or the Fantasy world we 
all hoped secretly to exist.  This world came to us.  We came to it.  
Like two star-crossed lovers in the night.  Never to understand each 
other, but meant for each other in every way imaginable.  And now, as 
our bastard children grow and start wanting, needing and thinking for 
themselves, are we to be left behind like the dinosaurs?  Like Family 
Matters and MASH?  Like the Eight-Track and Minidisk?  Or will we rise 
like some horrible, never-ending Simpsons re-run?  Can we ever hope to 
become the Watsons, Oppenheimers and Einsteins of history?  Will we 
become infamous, like Hitler, or sung of only in drunken song like 
Himmler?  Are we to become...nay...is our generation to be the fifties, 
long forgotten and quirky in their own way?  Or revolutionary, like the 
sixties, with their sex, drugs and rock-and-roll?  The only thing 
scarier than not knowing the future is knowing that so many generations 
likely had our same thoughts, aspirations and dreams, but became the 
past nonetheless.  It frightens any sane man or woman and drives them 
beyond their abilities to create things beyond their needs, wants, and 
whims.  And, so, is this helpless, unknown void part of what becomes 
our progress?  Our need to succeed?  The spark in our brains that they 
call imagination?  Or is it all just something bigger, wiser and 
stranger looking through the looking glass and trying to dumb itself 
down as it wonders 'what is it like to be human'?" 

	"Dude," Maury smirked at him.  "You are SO drunk."

	Chris laughed.  "Yeah.  I guess I am."
	Hooze cleared her throat.  "I hereby declare a toast."
	Both boys raised their drinks high with Andrea.  
	"I hereby declare this a new year," she said proudly.  "May all 
that in the past stay in the past.  May all that yet to come, do so 
when we need it.  May now be precious as it has always been."
	"Hear, hear!" Maury shouted.
	"Agreed!" Fiss laughed. 
	The three of them clinked glasses together, then sat back against 
the park bench to look out over the city.  






	




	As the clocks of the world hit midnight, a few people died.  A 
lot more were born.  And somewhere, in the giant, chaotic thing that 
was life, Hooze, Maury and Chris knew that the upcoming years would be 
just as crazy.  Just as amazing.  Just as unforgettable.  Life would 
continue to give them new challenges to overcome.  
	
	And they would.  With Love and Justice.  

	They'd just do it a little weirder than the rest. 

	 










The end. 





------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------MISSIONARIES 5------------------------------



My goodness!  Look at the time!  Look at the insanity!  Look at the... 
hey, stop looking at my butt!  It's time for the final Sailor Moon Omoi 
notes!   



Author's Notes:

-The Missionaries Dojo/Arena Script idea, whhere a fight 'resets' after 
the combatants have finished fighting, was inspired by the awesome run 
of GURPS Omoi Fighting Tournament we ran on the Studio Shinnyo WAR 
Forum last year.  What better way to train than a perfect simulation?  
Thanks be to Tozetre for the idea, and all the participants, who made 
the idea work better than I had expected.

-Zerg Rushes:  If you need an explanation onn this one, you obviously 
haven't been on the net long enough.  Zerg are aliens on the game Star 
Craft that are famous for their never ending flood of troops just when 
you least expect it.  The Brooding part comes in when you consider they 
are called "The Brood".  A bad pun, I know...but hey, at least it 
wasn't another Yuri joke. :P

-Screech: A Newfoundland drink prized for itts horrible quality and 
taste.  No.  Seriously. 

-Japanese Concentration Camps:  For those whho aren't familiar with the 
darker elements of Canada's history, our government decided to run some 
concentration camps during WWII.  The memory of this horrible act is 
still very much remembered and taught about to all young Kanucks in 
hopes it never happens again. 

-Yuri Jokes: Thanks to Austin for telling mee both original Yuri jokes 
and causing me to horrify and terrify people for years with them.  
Bwahahahaaa!

-Frank Miller: An excellent comic/graphic noovel writer, most famous for 
his creation "Sin City".  Anything this man touches turns into equal 
parts grit and awesome.

-Chapter 12 starts "part 2", AKA "Keep Goingg."  This is a reference to 
a certain Mr. Churchill's quote:  "When going through Hell, keep 
going."

-Katamari: Literally "Clump" in Japanese.  II highly recommend the games 
Katamari Damacy and We Love Katamari, in which you collect stuff to 
make bigger and bigger balls.  Keep Rollin-rollin-rollin...YEAH!

-Wii-Boy: More video game humour.  The next  Nintendo console is going 
to be called the "Wii", or "Whee!"  Hold on to your testosterone, 
though...you get to use motion-control swords, so it's all good. 

-Chapter 26 starts "part 3" with "Pax inter  Terra quod Abyssus."  This 
is Latin for "Treaty between Earth and Hell," more or less.  I'm pretty 
sure I did this one on my own, so if it actually means "I like tube-
snakes in my hair" let me know.

-Gravol: Anti-nausea medicine.  

-Accordion Busses: Maury once hit an 'accorddion' bus with his car 
during high-school, and has never forgiven them since.  It's basically 
an extra long transit bus with a "bendy" part in the middle to 
facilitate turns.  

-The "You can call me Chris" alliteration sppeech:  My humble (if not 
fully earned by the amount of time I had to spend using the Thesaurus) 
homage to "V for Vendetta".  Very good movie, and yes, I can pronounce 
every word. :P

-Makoto's near-death and Setsuna's actual deeath were not decided upon 
lightly.  Only the highest quality D20 was used in deciding their 
fates.  For the record, Low was Live, High was Die.  Jupiter got 4, 
Pluto got 16.  This, naturally was inspired by Joss Whedon.  Thanks to 
Hooze for letting me kill one of her family members and not kick my 
ass.

-"Zangetsu" – the name of Chris' new car is  named after the uber-
awesome black-cloaked old man/sword in the anime: Bleach.  I have also 
named my Ford Mustang Roadblock Destroyer in "Need for Speed: Most 
Wanted" Zangetsu.  It suits him VERY well.  

-"Yurusenai" means "I'll never forgive you.""  If you don't know this by 
now, you need more anime.  STAT!

-"So, I heard you like Mudkips..." I've beenn spending way too much time 
on 4chan.org.  The context is basically to say "So I herd u liek 
Mudkips" whenever someone asks you something you can't possibly respond 
to with a sane answer.  

-"Never Ending Light".  Major props towards  the band "VNV Nation" for 
their hauntingly awesome "Perpetual" and the equally awesome "Arena".  
You'll see at least one of these songs on the soundtrack. 

-The many unanswered questions are left purpposely so.  However, feel 
free to give me a jingle via e-mail, and I'll give you hints, or at the 
very least, give you the full "Grandpa Yuri VS the Nazis" joke.  
Bwhaahaah.

-In regards to the numerous requests that I  attempt to do something 
professional with my works...I have the following to say:

Yes.  I know.  And yes.  I will. 

Please keep an eye on Studio Shinnyo, as I will be posting any progress 
towards professional-work-isms there.  I have the damn domain for 
another 10 years.  I may as well use the damn thing. :) 

www.studioshinnyo.com

My e-mail may shift and change as the winds of Inrawebs blow.  You can 
try the following addresses, or go to Studio Shinnyo to obtain my 
current e-mail if the following two fail outright.  I will also forward 
any fan-mail to Hooze, Mo or Draxel/Curtis, etc.  

strikef@telus.net

strikef@bigfoot.com




A VERY special thanks to:



-Senie.  My love.  My wife.  My One True.  TTake everything cute, 
wonderful and sappily awesome in life, combine them, and you have the 
woman I am married to.  I love you, babe.  

-The Brummets.  My family.  Maw and Paw, whoo aren't together anymore, 
except in my heart as both being awesome people.  Mom, who nurtured and 
supported me while I was growing, and proves that Good triumphs over 
Evil on a daily basis - and Dad, who became the kind of man I want to 
be when the chips went all to hell, and showed me that life continues 
long after the final credits.  Both of you...I love you so damn much.  
Thank you.

-The Knezaceks.  Grandma and Grandpa.  To fuully explain the awesomeness 
of these two people would take another 30 pages.  Grandma, for being 
someone who gives and enjoys so completely that it's rare and exciting 
in this world.  Grandpa, who proved to me that honour, dignity and 
respect can come from the darkest places...and that turkey necks look 
like grossly deformed human penises.  And, of course, their wonderful 
crazy kids, my uncles, who helped warp me into the man I am today.  
Love you all.  

-The Bolz.  My kick-ass cool sister and her  awesomely cool husband.  
Both of you inspire me when nothing else can.  They always say you can 
pick your enemies, and you can pick your friends, but you're stuck with 
your family.  Well, fuckem.  I would have picked you two in a 
heartbeat. 

-The Mosses.  Maury.  My best damn friend onn this entire crazy globe.  
And all your sisters, maw, paw, and all them crazy critters.  Damn I 
love you.  And I miss you.  Write me sometimes. :)  Once again, a shout 
out goes to his dearly departed pa-pa.  Miss ya. 

-The McMillans.  Proof that humanity, grace  and providence is not 
limited by distance.  My bruthas, sisters, and new parents.  Leave the 
shuvles at home.  This is the internets.  Serious business.   

-The Houses of Awesomeness.  In no particulaar order:  Tozetre, master 
of Penguins and debates.  Alex, of the most spectacular evil laugh 
since Vincent Price.  Spike, of the uber-editing, uber-awesomeness.  
Amon, of the kick-ass and Joltyness.  Draxel, of the dragon and NYC 
lovingness.  iPod of the Fury Tail and Thanks iPod! drinks.  Butters of 
the 'Not Quite Emo', don't let it bug you.  Devon of the Celerity  
creepiness, and Kendra of the Space MacGyvers.  Binky of the Puppily 
Wuppilies, Flaaafy and Sean of the 'How are you doing today.... 
FLAAAAffy?' and of course, all those spoooooooky people I'm forgetting 
to mention because it's 6 am in the fucking morning.  :)

-God.  Who lets this all be possible.  Jesuss Saves...the rest of you 
take damage.

-All you dudes and dudettes.  Thanks for thee incredible run.  If every 
fanfic writer was privy to the kind of response, reaction and love that 
I've been blessed by...  Well, there would be a lot more excellent 
writers in this world.  Thank you.  And always remember to fight 
against Khattam-Shud. 




Thank you all.


WWW.STUDIOSHINNYO.COM – Ye Olde Tyme Webview
WAR.STUDIOSHINNYO.COM – Forum of mass awesomeness
OWW.STUDIOSHINNYO.COM – The Omega Web Wiki
MJR.STUDIOSHINNYO.COM – Midnight Jolt Run – my personal blog. 


So.  Until next time...if and when and everything in between...remember 
the following disclaimer:

	
SAILOR MOON: OMOI IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE FOLLOWING CAUSES OF MASS-
EXTINCTION.  Meteorites.  Mennonites.  Trilobites.  Flying Kites.  
Termites.  Blathering Blatherskites.  Frozen-In-Carbonites.  Collapsing 
Dykes.  Teeny Tykes.  Folks named 'Mike'.  Mountain Bikes.  Heads-on-a-
Pike.  The phrase 'Psyche!'.  Boys that Debbie Likes.  And certainly 
not Grandpa Yuri.  That would be crazy.  







Strike Fiss, Studio Shinnyo 2006.  Khattam-Shud, EOF.