Roswell Fanatics

Hi everyone...

Things sure look bleak, huh? Well.. All I can say, is please stay with me. Okay?

Thanks for you great feedback. Especially when things aren't really worth commenting on.


Jen11Star - well, that will teach you to go away for a few weeks then. Nice stiryline... but it doesn't quite match mine. LOL

Liz PArker Evans - Yes. Please remain calm. And maybe what doesn;t feel right is that someone is killing our friends.

Timelord31 - Hmmm.... Could be.

omwf - No trick. Liz was killed in a crash. Jesse was killed in a street crime. Kyle appears to have been killedin an industrial accident.

dreamerfiend - Torturing Tess will make you smile more that Liz coming back?

Ellie - OOps. Seems as t hough I have. Well, the Bambi eyes wouldn;t have worked in any caSE.

kay_b - Revenge? Perhaps. Maybe, as Isabel suggested, she's under orders. Ah yes. The Why question again.

aurorasky - Oh, but please hang on in there, huh? It WILL be worth it. I promise.

AJK001 - Nope. Not lost my touch. In fact, honed it a little.

RoswellScripter - If they are, what good is a fourteen year old Liz to Max? Let alone the fact that she has blonde hair and green eyes.

su-lyn - Yup. I decided to play Tess to the full with this one. Evilness.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Somehow, I just knew that you would want to kill Tess. But yeah, woth Liz, Jesse and Kyle now in the tally, she is definately due. Please remember that Max believes (knows) the whole time travelling Max from the future to be a hoax, so he's unlikely to think of using the Granolith in that way. Besides, didn't Tess already go back to Antar in the Granolith? And that lame plan... you can bet it was Maria's

tequathisy - Thank you. New part coming up.

Roswelllostcause - I am Evil. Guilty as charged. LOL. Told me dozens of times.

frenchkiss70 - It certainly seems personal, doesn;t it? Except for Kyle.

BehrObsession - Can I take that as a compliment?

smokie - LOL. Classic when the people who leave feedback get bumped off in a story too! Not a dream. BTW. And thanks for the compliment.

mareli - Well, all will become clear... eventually.

Evans3 - Are you sure about that?

LovinGuerin2Much - Okay. I won;t say that Kyle is underneath that car. He;s underneath the ramp that the car is in.

roswellluver - It will all end in tears!

cherie - Relax. I still have loads of characters to carry on with. Loads of them.


Red Shift



Part I


Chapter 10



When Zan stepped into the Senate the number of people already crammed inside the building surprised him. As well as Kathana, Sero, Hanar and Larek, sitting in their usual places, it seemed that each man had brought another dozen or so representatives with them. Khivar was there, too, also accompanied by a number of followers, though he stood to one side, as if declaring some kind of neutrality. The visitors' stands were packed to the gills. The stairs and passageways were crammed with people. And not a single person was listening to anything the other said. It was total and complete chaos. They were all trying to speak at once, each one shouting his opinion over the voices of the next. With no sign of his Father, Zan knew that someone had to take charge. Someone had to bring organization from this chaos. Someone had to take control. Zan prepared to step forward.


The doors at the rear of the Senate room - the ones that the king always used to make his grand entrance - crashed open. A double file of soldiers dressed in deep crimson uniforms marched in and formed a defensive ring around the seat upon which the king normally sat. More soldiers formed a kind of corridor back to the doorway. Each of them held a small, dangerous looking weapon to his chest. The room fell silent, save for the awed whispers.

"Bloodguard."


The Bloodguard was a body of soldiers who answered only to the king. Every man stood at six feet or more, their loyalty unswerving. So good was their training that one Bloodguard was worth three of the top soldiers from the normal ranks. It had long been rumored that those who volunteered to serve in the Bloodguard had been somehow 'modified' by the Granolith, making them stronger, faster, more deadly. It was also this rumor that lent strength to the claim that a Bloodguard never missed anything he... or she shot at. Clearly, members of the Bloodguard were being guided and controlled by the Granolith, which was guided and controlled by the King. The sight of so many of these dedicated soldiers in any one place was enough to claim anyone's attention. The King had restored order with a vengeance. The room smelled of fear, now.


"What is the meaning of this?" King Deryn demanded from his throne, his voice calm and soothing but sounding oh so dangerous.

Zan almost jumped out of his skin, he was so startled by his father's sudden appearance. Like everyone else, his mind had been so fixed upon the tall warriors' entry that no one had noticed the King enter behind the protective wall. Zan took some comfort from the fact that everyone else appeared to have been affected in the same manner.

"We are here," Larek stepped up, looking around at his fellows, drawing strength from them, "to discuss this current situation. Now that you are here, we demand that you rescind the new level of taxation."

He did not sound as confident as he was trying to portray. The Bloodguard's presence had shaken everybody.

"Demand?" the king raised a single eyebrow.

"Furthermore, we demand that you reinstate the Senate and agree never to discount our vote again." Larek's voice had gained in strength.

"You demand, do you?" Deryn looked around the room. "Just who is it that makes these demands?"


"I do, for a start," Larek nodded. "And I speak on behalf of all Torania."

"Many of whom I see you have brought for support," Deryn sneered.

"I didn't bring them, my lord," he bowed. "They insisted on coming. They wanted to see for themselves the way you have been behaving of late."

"Out of deference to our years of friendship," Deryn's voice was a whisper. "I will let that insult pass, Larek."

"Then out of friendship, Deryn," Larek spoke up. "Turn away from this dangerous path. You threaten the very alliance!"

"Do you all feel this way?" Deryn rose.

"We do," Hanar nodded. "As do countless hundreds of Antarans."

"Countless hundreds?" Deryn smirked.

"I have this," Larek lifted a very large book. "The signatures of over one million Antarans. There are other such books on the other planets, with even more signatures. It's a petition, sire. A petition against the unfair taxation we face so that YOU can build another palace."


As Deryn was about to speak, a small man scurried to his side and whispered in his ear. Deryn looked around the room with a face like thunder and nodded at the little man.

"Very well," Deryn moved away from the throne. "I will consider this matter. I will talk with my advisors and see what they have to say."

"Do so, your Majesty," Larek bowed. "And please. Make the right decision here, ere you bring a chaos that none of us wants."

Deryn stormed out of the room, a few steps ahead of the little man. Once they had left, the soldiers made their orderly withdrawal, all while, their fingers on their triggers and their faces on the crowds.

"Come, Prince Zan," one of his bodyguard whispered above the sudden din. "We need to leave now, in case someone decides to take matters into their own hands and force your father's decision by holding you for ransom."

"Agreed," Zan nodded. "In any case, I want to hear what my father has to say."


* * *


"What do you mean, things are tense?" Deryn demanded.

He was surrounded by his advisors and two of his three General. Everyone was voicing their concerns, and their opinions.

"Khivar!" he bellowed when his Senator entered the room. "Why didn't you warn me about that damned petition?"

"Because I did not know of it, sire," Khivar balked before finally approaching the gathering.

"He had signatures!" Deryn had spittle forming in the corners of his mouth. "How could you not know that he was gathering Antaran signatures?"

"He..." his eyes darted around the room. "Larek is not one to be trusted, sire," Khivar stood more upright. "It's entirely feasible that he forged those signatures. Or perhaps he tricked the people into signing it."

"That makes sense," Troyka, one of Deryn's more sycophantic toadies simpered. "I believe Khivar speaks the truth."

"Yes," the king started to nod. "Yes. That's it. Why else would someone from Antar disagree with their King? Because they had been tricked."

"That's not what happened, sire," Nonor, another advisor shook his head. "I filed a report the other day that there was a petition in circulation, calling for you to accede to the will of the Senate." He glared at Troyka. "I was told that you would see it immediately."


"So there really are Antarans who oppose my rule?" Deryn was astounded. He turned to Troyka. "So it seems there are people on Antar who would oppose their king. What do you suggest we do?"

"Arrest the ringleaders!" Troyka clenched his fists. "And their families, too. Make examples of them all. Execute them. And arrest all those involved in tonight's rebellion. Execute them all."

There was a murmur around the room. While some agreed with Troyka, others were outraged by the mere thought of it.

"You can't do that, Father," Zan stepped forward.

"You are not the King yet, Zan," Deryn's eyes narrowed as he looked at his son. "Learn from this that you might better deal with an uprising when you are ruling and I am in my grave."

"You are not a butcher," Zan shook his head. "Don't become one."

"Traydn?" the King turned to the General of his Second Battalion. "What do you think?"

"Well, sire..." Traydn seemed trapped . "I am not really qualified as a politician. I am a soldier. Show me a target and I will attack it. As for arresting ringleaders..."

"Nickolas?"

"I could plant spies, my lord. But like Traydn, I know nothing of the machinations of civilians. Give me an order, and I will carry it out, as would General Traydn. But these tasks fall within neither of our remits. We are trained to attack enemy units and defended positions. It is General Dray who sees to the pacification of Antar's surface."


"And where the heck is Dray?" Deryn demanded, looking around the room. "Someone find me Dray!"

"Sire," Rath stepped forward. "I regret to inform you that General Dray's whereabouts are unknown at this time. He was investigating a report of bandits in the mountains and has not yet returned. I... I fear for his safety."

"You mean that you fear General Dray and his huge army might have been defeated by a handful of bandits?" Deryn's face fell in astonishment. "I find that hard to believe."

"The report suggested that the... bandits numbered nearly twice his own."

"Rebels, then," Nickolas shook his head.


"Well," Troyka nodded. "That pretty much settles it. Dray has been ambushed and killed, along with however many soldiers he took with him."

"Then we must act at once," Deryn nodded. "This must be stamped out before it can go anywhere. And the best way to deal with a snake is to remove its head. Rath!"

"Yes, sire," Rath snapped to attention.

"I want you to take two squads of men. I want you to find and arrest Larek. For the crime of High Treason. If he resists arrest, he is to be executed on the spot."

"But..." Rath started.

"Then, I want you to arrest every fiftieth signature on that petition. I want them hung from the nearest convenient place to their home. Make sure everyone knows why it is being done. Then arrest their families and have them taken to a place where we can decide their fate. I will not stand for treason on my own planet!"

"But, sire..." Rath was shaking his head in disbelief. "The men... they won't..."

"Execute any man who refuses to obey an order, Colonel Rath. On the spot."

Rath stood still, staring at the king while Troyka whispered in his ear.

"Their families, too," Deryn completed.

Rath's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

"Do I have to start with you, Colonel Rath?"

Rath snapped to attention again, saluted, spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

"Now," Deryn continued. "The rest of you. Here's what I want you to do."


* * *

Hi everyone!

Thank yoiu all so very much for you tireless support of my writing. I love your feedback and long may it continue to come. Even when my stories turn a little dark and bleak, the fact that you stick with me it a good thing. Please please hand in there.

BehrObsession - Yes, he may have been nudged, pushed and coralled in certain directions, but he must have been popular at some point, right? I mean, even the senate seemed surprised by his attitude.

aurorasky - Keep hanging tight! Not long now. Promise.

BelevnDreamsToo - Oh yes... I choose my Avatars carefully. I promise. Soon!

roswellluver - Yes. Almost overnight too, it seems.

kay_b - Sure looks like the beginning of the end, and yes, while he was nudged, it sure didn;t take a lot of 'nudging'.

roswck - Well... not so much American history as a base... Somewhere else actually. But you're right.

Timelord31 - Yeah, things do not look good.

tequathisy - Rath is definately between the rock and the hard place. Poor guy. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

Ellie - Well... It seems to me that if Deryn is in someone's way, then Zan is too...

Evans3 - But, he is still Zan's father. And no details about deaths of women and children. Promise.

mareli - Well... maybe there's a reason for his ineptitude. Maybe.

Emz80m - Do you think Zan taking such drastiv action would work now? Somehow, I think that might make people MORE determined to get rid of the monarchy.

frenchkiss70 - Ah yes! What happened indeed? Somehow, I think he was once a wise and fair man. I mean, Zan is his son, after all.

Roswelllostcause - I have booked the shuttle to send you to Antar to ... Oh, wait. All this happened decades ago.

AJK001 - Well... can you honestly say that you have read a story that ever got THIS bad?

Scottie - Hope you had a great vacation. And, Thank you. I think you might be surprised just how much longer Deryn has... but you are right. Things cannot go on too much longer like this. Oh yes. I think you will like my solution to all this... mess.

smokie - As much as I would love to say I thought about making you wonder... I didn't. In order for someone (say, Jim?) to fake Kyle's (and Liz's?) death(s), to many people would have to be involved. Sorry.

cherie - Okay, relax was the wrong word.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Hang on! Nearly at the end of the tunnel. Nearly.

Red Shift


Part I


Chapter 11




A bleeding heart torn apart, left on an icy grave,
In the room where they once lay, face to face,
Nothing could get in their way, but now the memories of the man
Are haunting her days and the craving never fades,
She's still dreaming of a man long forgiven, but not forgotten,


As it had been for Liz, the funerals of Jesse Ramirez and Kyle Valenti, both within a few days of each other, had been sad, emotional affairs. While it was true to say that not as many people were as deeply upset at Jesse's death- just the two affected families - every one felt bad for Isabel and for Mrs. Ramirez. For both funerals, however, the Parkers had closed up the café and allowed the wakes to be held there, as they had done for Liz. The Parkers were only too aware of the strange connection that existed between all of these people.


Kyle Valenti was buried quite close to Liz and not that far away from Alex. From where they had stood, listening to the minister and the speakers, Max and Maria could see the other two gravesites. It was somehow fitting that these friends should be as close in death as they had been in life. A part of Max felt envious that he would never be buried close to Liz. When his death came, he was sure that a doctor would discover his differences and that he would end up as an exhibit in a governmental medical facility somewhere. He forced down the shudder. Max couldn't help noticing that the congregation for Jesse's funeral, swollen by the vast number of friends he had gathered in Harvard, had been larger than Liz's. Even Kyle's had been larger, a measure of the fact that even whilst embroiled in the alien abyss, Kyle had managed to maintain friendships with his old buddies. It seemed as though three quarters of the class of 2002 had gathered there.


At last, the ceremony came to an end and the people paid their final respects by throwing a flower onto the coffin, spoke a few words of comfort to Jim and the made their way out of the cemetery. Only Michael and Max stayed behind to the end.

"Keep an eye on her for me, Kyle," Max tossed a small, jade statuette of Buddha onto the bed of flowers. He had made it himself, from another figurine he had bought from a thrift store. "And thank you. For everything you've ever done to help us. Thank you for being a good friend to Liz. And to Isabel."

Staring at the coffin, Jim held his hat by the brim, his hands sliding back and forth, turning it in a small circle.

"Find her for me, Max," he looked up, his face burning with an intensity that Max had only seen when Jim had promised him that he would always be there for him. "And when you find her?" Jim tossed the hat to join the other offerings. Jim stared at it for a moment before looking up into Max's eyes again. "Kill her."

Jim nodded at the two young men and turned to follow the others.

"Come on, Max," Michael tried to usher Max away.

"No," Max twisted his shoulder and looked over to the side. "You go on. I won't be long."

Michael followed his line of site, coming to rest on Liz's grave complete with the new headstone that Alastair Harris had paid for.

"Okay," Michael nodded, reaching out and giving Max's arm a squeeze.

He knew that Max visited her every day, anyway. It had become a pilgrimage for him. Michael nodded and left Max in peace.


* * *


And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
all I do is keep the beat the bad company
all I do is kiss you through the bars of Orion
Julie I'd do the stars with you any time


Max made his way to where his love lay. Dead, but not forgotten. He swept away the ostentatious bouquet that Harris had paid a local florist to deliver on a daily basis and moved the smaller but more personal offering her parents had brought earlier in its place. He then looked at the headstone.

"Elizabeth Parker," he read. "March 9th, 1983... September 18th, 2006. Beloved of Alastair Harris."

Max gave a snort of contempt. He shook his head and then passed his hand over the last line.

"A loving daughter, and a wonderful friend," he read the new inscription. "She was loved."


He stood back and looked down, tears blurring his vision.

"I'm so sorry, Liz," his voice was broken. "I've failed you again. I couldn't stop her." He wiped his eyes with his hands. "Alex, you, even Jesse..." he paused. "And now Kyle." Max shook his head. "They're all jumpy now. And who can blame them? We're looking after Maria, just in case..." he paused. "In case... But I'll die before I let her win."

Max looked up and sucked in a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry, Liz. I'm so sorry for all of my shortcomings. For... everything I ever did to hurt you. For the countless times I pushed you away or kept you out." Max closed his eyes and struggled to control his breathing. "And I especially apologize for dragging you into this mess in the first place. I could have fixed it so you were healed without becoming attached to me. I could have slowed the bleeding until the paramedics got there. Liz, there were dozens of things I could have done. But I didn't. The truth is..."

Max inhaled again and opened his eyes.

"The truth is, Liz, I wanted you in my life. I wanted you to know my secret. I wanted to know what you would feel about me if you knew the truth. And I am so... so sorry."

Max looked down and allowed the tears to fall to the ground.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"You still don't get it..."

It might have been his imagination. It might even have simply been the light breeze that rustled through the leaves of the trees. But Max swore that it was the voice of Liz Parker that he heard.

"I love you."


Max looked around, as though he expected her to appear in front of him and tell him off, the way she used to, putting him down a peg or two. But she wasn't there. She was gone.

"Liz," he knelt down beside her. "I'm so sorry... that your last days weren't spent being loved by me. I wanted to, Liz. When you told me... about Alastair... I wanted to stop you so bad... I wanted to sweep you in my arms and hold you till you promised you wouldn't marry him... But I couldn't. Because I didn't think I deserved you, Liz. But I promise you this. My soul won't rest until I find you again, and make it up to you. I'll prove that I am worthy of you."

Max climbed to his feet and pulled out a single white rose from his breast pocket.

"After all these years, after everything that's happened," Max touched the rose to his lips. "I know that you are still my destiny, Liz." Max placed the rose just below her parent's bouquet. "I just know that we will be together again. And this time?" He took a deep, ragged breath. "I'll get it right."

Tears blurred his vision as Max staggered from the cemetery.


* * *


"Maria would kill me if she knew what we were up to," Michael whispered.

He cast a guilty glance at the door behind which Maria slept. In the kitchen, Max and Isabel sat with him. And alien council of war.

"We're not taking any chances Michael," Max nodded at him, agreeing that Maria would indeed vent her fury on him. On all of them. "One of us stays with Maria at all times while the other two go out and search. We're going to find her." Max's voice was filled with determination. "And when we do." He paused."

"We'll kill her," Michael nodded. "Only, Max? Let me do it."

Max watched him for a moment before nodding.

"No," Isabel shook her head. "Let me. First Alex. Then Liz. Then Jesse, and now Kyle? By my reckoning, it's three to one, Max. I owe her big time."

"Are you sure, Iz?" Max looked over at her.

"Oh, yeah," there was a cold look that made her old nickname of the Ice Princess look warm. "Positive. The bitch is going to take a long time to die. Long and painful."

"Good," Max nodded.

"So..." Michael narrowed his eyes. "How will we schedule this?"

"I'll watch Maria tomorrow," Isabel shrugged. The look of hatred fell, to be replaced by sorrow. "I could do with a girls talk anyway."

"She's going to need a hand stocking up the store, the day after," Michael sat back. "I'll take that day."

"Which leaves me the day after that."

"What do we do if we still haven't found her, Max?" Isabel cradled her chin in the palms of her hands.

"We'll have to consider running," Max sighed.


* * *


"So, that's two dollars and thirty one cents change," Maria counted the money into the hand of heavyset man with the Star Wars T-shirt. "And your receipt."

"Thanks," the man nodded.

He picked up the bag and turned to leave the store.

"Thank you and come again," Maria called out before she turned to Max who had been browsing through the little alien trinkets her mom sold in their craft store. "You guys really are taking this seriously, aren't you?"

"Taking... what, seriously?" Max raised his eyebrows.

"Well let's see," Maria folded one arm across her chest tapped her cheek with her other hand. "Day after Kyle's funeral, Isabel decides that she needs female companionship because you're tied up with Michael at the garage. Thanks for helping him out, by the way. Yesterday, Michael decides that he can't face the garage and needs a little time away so he hangs out here all day, helping me stock up the shelves, which is a job I know he hates. And today, you're here, just browsing. All day. You guys are so babysitting me."

"Sorry," Max frowned, staring down at his feet. "I know it might feel..."

"It's okay, Max," she gave him a sympathetic hug. "I'm kinda scared too, you know? So I'm glad you're here."

Max nodded, giving her a small smile.


"You know," Maria looked at him pensively. "I used to be so jealous of Liz. When you used to treat her like this."

Maria's eyes widened when she saw the pained expression on Max's face.

"I'm sorry, Max," she closed her eyes and berated herself.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Maria," Max sighed. "I'm only just coming to realize how much I've really screwed my life up. And the lives of those around me."

"What about me, Max?" Maria smiled. "My life is almost perfect." She couldn't help the sadness that passed across her face. "I mean, I wish I had a few more friends around, you know what I mean? But other than that, it's been... And I owe that to you. So you didn't screw up everyone's life. Okay?"

Max nodded, pursing his lips together.

"Now," she looked at her watch. "It's lunchtime. Come on, I'll make you a Galaxy Sub."

"With Tabasco?"

"Course," Maria rolled her eyes.


* * *


"Space fries and a cherry coke," Maria placed the Galaxy Sub in front of him.

"Excuse me?" Max looked up from the kitchen table where he had been tracing his finger along the pattern swirls.

"I said, here's your sub, do you want a Snapple?" Maria was smirking. "Where did you go?"

Max gave a wry smile.

"Who else?" she rolled her eyes. "Oh, by the way. I saw what you did to... you know. At the cemetery."

"Oh," Max nodded. "Yeah."

"Liz's mom nearly threw a fit. She went home cursing Alastair Harris. And then when she went back the next day and saw it had changed... That threw her."

"Supercilious moron," Max shook his head. "I really blew it, Maria."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But it was never irreversible, you know. She would have had you back like a shot."

"I was just too absorbed in my... my son."

"Max," Maria frowned. "I mean this with the most sincerity... but are you sure that you... you know. With Tess? I mean, that does not sound like you at all."

"I connected to him, Maria," Max shrugged. "I mean... I... felt..."

"Max, we all know that the ex-wife from hell was desperate to go back, right? She had an agenda. How do you know that it wasn't like, this elaborate hoax just to get you to fire up the Granolith for her? Look at how much effort they put in to tricking Liz that time."

"I don't know anything anymore, Maria," he stared at his untouched sandwich. "Maybe it was. I don't know. But I have... I had these memories. Of what we did... together."

"Oh yeah," Maria gave a cynical snort. "'Cause we both know that Tess couldn't do things to peoples memories, right?"

"I hope it wasn't a trick, Maria," Max looked up with an earnest look.

"What?" Maria was shocked.

"Because then I wouldn't have put Liz through five years of hell for nothing."

"Or yourself, either, Max," Maria pointed out. "If anything, your life was worse than Liz's"

"Was she happy, Mara?" He looked up at her. "Would that... Alastair have made her happy?"

"No, Max," she shook her head, reaching out to him. "There was only ever one person who was going to make Liz happy. And he's right..."

Maria never finished her sentence.


Max would never be sure if he heard the huge roaring bang first, or saw the even larger bright light from the ensuing fireball. From the back of apartment block, where the communal oil tanks stood, a huge explosion engulfed them. The blast blew them out from the first floor apartment, across the street. Max felt himself flying through the air, along with the contents of the apartments above and below them. Wood and glass shrapnel ripped around them. It was so sudden, their velocity so great, that Max couldn't react until he hit the road outside, landing on his back. It knocked the wind from him and it took him several minutes groaning in agony as he desperately tried to suck air into his lungs. It didn't help when a burning pole landed across his neck, singeing his throat. A feeling of déjà vu hit him, so hard he almost passed out. He struggled to remain conscious. Every part of his anatomy was in pain. Debris rained down upon him. He could feel hundreds of stinging bites across all of his body. He wrapped his arms across his face for protection until he was sure it had stopped falling. Fighting against the agony it caused, Max sat up, frantic in his search to find Maria. He found her only a few yards away, surrounded by the debris, half covered by a chunk of the roof. He started to crawl to her, aware of the constant piercing pains that wracked his body. In the distance he could hear the sirens of the emergency teams. He could hear the shouts of people, too. Nearer. Max made out the sounds of running footsteps and voices calling out for someone to dial nine one one.


"Maria," he groaned. "Maria!"

While every ounce of effort was turned toward reaching Maria, his mind was running. He had let Michael down. He was supposed to protect her and here she was, lying in the middle of a bomb site. He could see that she was in a bad condition. Every part of her body was lacerated with splinters of wood, or glass. She was bleeding profusely. He had done it again. He had betrayed the trust his friends had put in him. But he could still fix this. Every inch that he crawled to her was sheer agony. But it was nothing to the pain the feeling his act of betrayal caused.

"Maria!" he called. "You're going to have to look at me."

Max reached her side and stretched his arms out to cradle her head. He wondered why they were covered with so much blood. And hadn't he been he wearing a white shirt?

Flashing lights started to appear in his peripheral vision. Cars and trucks were pulling to a stop. He could hear voices shouting. Somewhere, a dog barked. He heard a woman cry out.


"Maria," he called again. "You're going to be okay. You just have to look at me. Maria, look at me."

She coughed, her eyes fluttering open and closed as her head rolled from side to side in his grip.

"What..." she coughed again, looking up at his face. Her voice was hoarse but there was a hint of a forced smile on her face. "What happened to you? You look like you've been hit by a truck."

"Open your eyes, Maria," he commanded. Why did she keep looking away? "Let me in. I'll heal you."

"No," Maria shook her head. She felt so weak. She knew that it was useless. "No, Max. You need to..."

"Maria!" Max tried to shout, but he felt so feeble. He also felt desperate. If only she would let him in. "Please."

"Can't," Maria whispered. "You!"

Max closed his eyes, aware that the stinging he could feel on his face were tears running down his lacerated cheeks. He understood that Maria had given up, that she would not allow him to heal her, because she wanted him to heal himself. To help protect Michael, whom she loved.

"And I know that Liz won't want you blaming yourself, Max," she coughed again. "You did everything you could. It's not your fault. Let Michael know... I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"I will," Max nodded. He pressed his forehead to hers. "And when you see her... tell her, Maria," he fixed his eyes on hers, even though she wouldn't open them. "Tell her that I will always love her."

"She knows," Maria smiled, clasping his hand. "She knows."

And then she was gone. Another bright light had been extinguished. He could sense people around him. While one man in yellow and green started to check over Maria, another was pulling at Max.

"Too late," Max mumbled to him. "I tried... You're... too..."

And then his world went black.


* * *

I hope things start to get better for the people affected by the terrible devastation and the aftermath caused by Hurricane Katrina.
Stay safe everyone.


Now... my story...

Erm....

Oh my! Least said, soonest mended.

Thank you for sticking with me when I'm sure you would like to just give up. But... please trust in me.

Timelord31 - Ooops... Did I miss Jim?

BehrObsession - Theres as plan in this evil mind of mine. Fear not. And don;t worry. Soon... very soon, things will start to be put right.

Itzstacie - I would LOVE to hear your theory. PM me with it.

aurorasky - Yeah. Maria is dead and no ambiguity either. The past has only so much to do with the present. Don;t try to find any kind of correalation. Liz and co did NOT exist on Antar.

frenchkiss70 - Well... it was kind of obvious, wasn't it? A yes... the greater scheme. I hope I have one.

youre my dreamgirl - I missed you! Really! Couldn't you tell? Who are you again? WB As for fixing it... come on! It's me! I fix EVERYTHING!

truman11883 - Sorry. But glad I can write so people get affected.

roswck - Soon. Promise. Who else can I kill? French? No. But close. Mind you, I expect that this could be overlaid on many nationalities history, but this is modelled on something specific.

behrlyliz - Yep! Sadly, the human contigent is no more. How will the pod squad cope?

Grace52373 - Going back in time would be fine and dandy if Future Max wasn;t a huge trick they played on Liz and if Tess hadn't gone back to Antar with the Granolith. And remember, it appears she returned by ship.

Emz80m - Well, I expect Tess does have help, and I'm not sure about Tess and her smarts. She pulled off that whole Alex thing.

tequathisy - Yup. Mean and evil and it's really easy to make you all go through that. But you know I reward you for putting up with it, right?

LovinGuerin2Much - Not long before you see the amazing direction I take this story. You're going to love it.

Ellie - Well... read my other work, study how I do things... and you still wont see where I'm taking this

mareli - Yep. Nearly there now. Honest! Would I lie to you?

smokie - Well... Is this surrender a good thing or a bad thing? ~puzzled frown~ As long as you continue to read. And yes, I know EXACTLY where this is leading. My beta team cleary don't want to give the game away but they LOVE it. Yes, I think mind blowingly fantastic pretty much describes it. There is another word that BelevnDreamsToo has used... but I will let you see that for yourself.

BelevnDreamsToo -

rie482 - Well... remember that there will be sunshine after rain. I promised this wayyyy back. And you always get great sunshine in my stories.

Evans3 - Soon, miles of smiles! Hang on a little longer.

kay_b - Why indeed? You'll have to keep readin to find out. But soon, you won;t even care. You MAY even thank Tess. LOL

Galliard - Hmmm.. interesting point. But I think that whoever triggered that explosion knew that Max would be okay. As for motive... it's both rather simple and complex and clues HAVE been given. But not enough to tie it all together yet.

roswellluver - Yup. Maria too.

jbcna - You're forgiven and WB Sorry to hear about your PC problems. And it's an Antar chapter tonight, so I don;t think Tess will get hers.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - I honestly think that id this had been my first fanfiction and I was an unknown author, I would have long ago lost my readers. But everybody knows me and my penchent for putting you through the mill just like everybody knows I deliver the happy ever after. So hand on in there and trust me when I say that very soon, you will be grinning from ear to ear praising me to the heavens for beiong so clever.

Roswelllostcause - Fear no because the end IS in sight. You will have to fins a whol new set of names to call me for Part 2. It will certainy make a change from evil and nasty and mean...

AJK001 - Thank you. Like I said, it's not too much longer now. And it's worth the pain.

cherie - Wayne WILL fix this. Has he EVER failed you??

Scottie - Jeanine picked up on that too. I don;t think anyone else has explored that concept before, but I might be wrong. And this is lunacy of the finest kind! It makes the next part all the more sweet!

mlover25 - Welcome aboard! How are they going to fix this? They are going to trust in me,

roswell3053 - Updates every Friday! Glad you like it so far.

RoswellScripter - Then thibk how our aliens must feel. They must really hate me.

dreamerfiend - Good question. But you might as well ask how long is a piece of string. But is there anyone else left to kill?

su-lyn - Well, sorry for you tears but of course, I hoped people would react that way. And maybe the gang will have more important things to worry about than Jim!

IF I missed anyone, please, shout! There was a lot this week!


Red Shift



Part I


Chapter 12

"Vilandra," Zan called. "Lonnie, where are you?"

"I'm in here," he heard his sister call.

He found her in the library. She was hiding in the corner, her eyes red with tears.

"What's going on, Zan?" she demanded. "Why are there soldiers everywhere? And why won't they let me go out?"

"There's trouble, Lonnie," Zan groaned. "Father's ordered Larek's execution. He's also ordered the execution... murder is more like, of hundreds of Antarans."

"No!" Vilandra gasped.

"Lonnie, I need to find Rath," he whispered to her. "I think he's going to disobey an order. I want to make sure he doesn't get arrested himself. But I need to make sure Ava is safe. While I find Rath, can you find some soldiers to go and get her? Have her brought back here."

"Of course Zan," his sister nodded. "You really love her, don't you?"

Zan paused.

"I care for her, Vilandra," he nodded. "I'm hoping that I will one day fall in love with her. But for now, I care for her a great deal."

"Then why did you agree to marry her?" Vilandra frowned, her eyes narrowing.

She shifted uneasily under his intense gaze. He was looking at her as though she had grown two heads.

"I am the Crown Prince of Antar," he reminded her in a tone that suggested he considered her to have just lost her mind. "Since when have I had a say in any part of my life? It was Father who decided where I would be schooled. It was father who decided that I should serve as an officer cadet in Dray's First Battalion, just as it was Father who decided that I had served long enough. Why should my future wife be anything other than decided upon by Father?"

"Oh, Zan," her eyes welled with sympathy. "I had no idea."

"Well, Ava's father is one of the wealthiest landowners on Antar," Zan shrugged. "So I guess it's only natural that Father would want the two houses united. And it's not like Ava's unattractive or anything."

"I heard that Yolana was showing an interest in you," Vilandra smirked.

Zan's eyes widened in horror.

"Don't even think such jokes," he shuddered. "I think that union would test even father's diplomatic skills."

"Poor Zan," Vilandra started to chuckle.

"Well, laugh it up sister dear," Zan started to grin. "What makes you think that a Royal Princess will be treated any different than a Royal Prince? Who was it who chose your education again?"

"What?" Vilandra's face fell. "You mean...?"

"I'm afraid so," Zan nodded, his grin disappearing. "Sorry. But Thank you."

"What for?" Vilandra frowned.

"For a moment," he smiled, "I forgot all about my troubles."


* * *


"Rath," Zan called, hurrying to his friend, and one time mentor's side.

"Since when do you call a superior officer by his given name?" Rath looked sideways at Zan with a raised eyebrow.

"Since I was no longer in the army," Zan smirked. "And probably ever since I found out that a Crown Prince outranks every other damned rank there is... except King."

Rath gave a wry chuckle, but then his face fell.

"I'm a little busy right now, Zan," he cast an apologetic look at his young friend. "Can this wait till later?"

"You will go through with it, won't you?" Zan urged.

"I..." Rath looked into Zan's eyes, reading him. "I don't want to," he admitted. "And I've already allowed so many men to just... leave. Too many. But if you are asking me if I will disobey a direct order from my King?" He shook his head. "As much as I think he's lost his mind, no. I'll not do that. So yes, my young friend. I will go through with it."

"I'm sorry that you have to obey such a bad order," Zan sighed, placing his arm on Rath's shoulder. "And I promise. When I am King, and I make a bad order? You can give me a swift kick in the pants."

"Like old times, then," Rath smirked.

"You don't get as good as I was without 'some' incentive," the prince grinned.

"You were a good student," Rath scoffed at the memories. "The best I've ever seen. And you had to work so hard, too. I used to give you such a hard time, just because I thought you were looking for a free ride."

"Well, as tough as you made it for me, Rath," Zan chuckled. "I actually appreciated it. I think everyone else thought I would be let off easy. But the fact that you worked me so hard, made me prove myself... I think I benefited from it. Thank you."

"You'll make an awesome leader one day, Zan. An amazing King. I have every doubt that I will ever have to kick you in the pants."

"Go," Zan shifted awkwardly. "Do your duty. But... be careful out there, Rath."

"Is that an order?" he smirked before he turned to leave.

"Definitely," Zan nodded. "Definitely."


* * *


Rath had never felt more nauseous than he did right now. With four squads of men, he was marching down the main thoroughfare of the capital city to the diplomats quarters, with the sole purpose of arresting Larek. There was no way he would execute him, so he hoped that Larek would agree to come. His task had been made more difficult by the fact that the streets were lined with protestors. He had doubled up on the number of soldiers he had been ordered to take, just in case things turned ugly. Things had been turning very ugly lately. And the raising of enough men had been a task in itself. For the first time in his military career, Rath had been faced with wholesale desertions. Soldiers had been leaving their posts in droves. Rath ignored that part of his orders that demanded their arrest - and execution - and had allowed them to leave, taking their families to safety with them. At the last count, one quarter of the remainder of the First Battalion had fled; rumor suggesting that they had joined up with the bandits in the mountains that had possibly claimed the lives of General Dray and the rest of their comrades. And the men with him seemed to be wishing they had joined them. Every step that brought them nearer to Larek's residence was met with a barrage of abuse, and garbage, hurled from the gathering bystanders.


Rath drew his squads into a double rank, forming an arc, still fifty paces away from the building. One protective wall of soldiers keeping the mob back, while the other watched the building. Rath approached the door.

"Larek," Rath called from a few paces away from the doorway. He neither knocked, nor forced his way in. He knew that Larek would be close by, watching from one of the windows. "Larek, Deryn has sent me to arrest you."

This was met with loud, long boos and hisses from the gathered crowd.

"Please, make this easy for yourself, Larek."

"Easy for you!" one anonymous person shouted.

"I will not submit myself to Deryn," Larek spoke from a window on the second floor.

The crowd cheered.

"Not when we no longer recognize his authority," the rebel continued. "Not until he will speak to us on equal terms. If you want to take me against my will, you will have to come in and get me."

This was met with more cheering.

"But he is the King!" Rath objected. "Please, Larek. Don't make this any more difficult. Deryn has issued an order. I cannot return empty handed. If you don't come out, I 'will' be forced to come in."

"Yes," Larek nodded. "Like I said. You will have to take me by force. But you needn't think I will make it easy for you. Or your King. There are those who will lay down their lives to prevent this from happening."

Larek turned away.


The door opened and a steady stream of soldiers filed out from the building. They lined up along the wall in two lines, weapons at the ready. The front rank knelt. There were half as many men again than Rath had. He also recognized every single one of them. Deserters from his own Battalion.

"Will you still try to force your way in, now?" Larek wondered.

"You're a fool, Larek," Rath shook his head. "Who knows what Deryn will do once he's been angered. He still controls the Granolith."

"Will he use it to fire upon Antar?" Larek smiled. "I fail to see a single Toranian amongst those preventing my surrender."

"So you claim these men hold you hostage?" He raised an eyebrow. "It's a dangerous game you play, Larek," Rath sighed. "But I will pass the news of your... imprisonment to His Majesty."

"You do that."

"But you need to talk to him, Larek," Rath urged. "You and the Senate need to find a way to resolve this. Before it blows up in our faces. I don't think either of us likes the path that we are heading down."

Rath turned and started to cross the empty square, feeling every gun aimed between his shoulder blades.

"Back to barracks," Rath ordered.


The shot that rang out echoed across the entire Galaxy. No one ever knew whom it was who had fired that first shot, though Rath forever doubted that it had been his men, and no one even knew if anyone had been hurt by it. All that was known were the consequences. Soldiers on both sides, trained for the heat of battle reacted according to their training and returned fire. Soldier and bystander alike were gunned down in a hail of energy. Soldiers appeared at windows of the buildings that surrounded the square. Deciding against a stand, Rath fought a withdrawal, eager to get as many men as he could away from the overwhelming force that was slowly annihilating them. One thing went through his mind. Deryn was not going to be pleased.


Antar had erupted into a civil war.


* * *

Hi everyone.

Thank you all so much for your feedback. I guess this story is kind of hard at the moment, but the good stuff IS in sight now.

Okay... Now, you've all hung on this far, please, I beg you, hang on a little tighter, just a little bit longer. Please trust in me.

BehrObsession - Thr trouble with ALL wars. Good and innocent people get caught. As good as I am at evil, I can be pretty evil at being good, too.

aurorasky - The connection between the past and the present is Zan's behavioue. The willingness of Zan/Max to put his trust in people. I think Zan/Max wants to see the good in everybody until they prove him wrong.

LovingGuerin2Much - Well, Zan knows he has to marry Tess. He does like her. It's natural to hope to fall in love with the person you will spend the rest of your life with, right?

roswck - 17th Century. A king decides he has the divine right to rule, abolishes a 'body' to allow him to raise taxes, orders the arrest and execution of signitories to a petition... hmmm....

Jen11Star - Okay Jen, back to the future it is... erm Apart from the information aspect, the is a reason why I told the story this way. And please remember your words...

then it is all the more tragic that Rath and Vilandra turned on Zan in NYC.

They do have an element of importance later on.

roswell3053 - Yes. Cared for her, but didn't love her.

jbcna - Yes. All will be revealed regarding Larek, Rath etc and what happens to them. But there are more important things, first.

Timelord31 - I'm pretty sure you can guess.

frenchkiss70 - LOL - well, in sad story's, you take what comfort you can.

su-lyn - Thank you.

Dreamer Babe - Thank you.

Ellie - Well... the ride will soon get a lot more smooth very soon.

Michelle in Yonkers - I wish I could say that my style remains static and that your statement about my character's death is true. Max felt the loss of his connection to Liz. And Maria died in Max's arms. I loved your observations, and some are tantalisingly 'close' to the truth. Anyway, glad to see you here.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Hang on Nora. Soon get to the good stuff. Promise.

roswellluver - Fiasco? You aint seen nothing yet

Venus_star2.com - Hmmm.... I see that a lot of people cling to the hope that the deaths have somehow been fakes. Well... All will very soon be revealed.

Evans3 - A great king, yes, but will he be given the chance?

SweetnSpicyCandy - Maria saw that Max was in a bad way and needed healing himself. She also knew that he would need his powers to help protect Michael. Yes, she knew he could have healed her but at what cost? And do you really think I would let anyone kill Max?

Scottie - You should know me by now! Assasins bullets, falling from bridges... No one kills Max in my stories! And thank you for your trust. (Is LTL still around?)

AJK001 - LOL - getting to know my scheduke, huh?

mareli - Yes. Sadly, the civil war was an inevitability. I guess... the different realities are heading for the same place, really. Total breakdown.

smokie - I hope you absence was due to something else and NOT the passing Katrina.

Red Shift


Part I


Chapter 13


Juliet when we made love you used to cry
you said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die
there's a place for us, you know the movie song


"Max?"

"Liz?" he cried out in his mind. Was he dead, and in heaven? Was he reunited with Liz at last?

"Max?"

No. No, that didn't sound like Liz. Not at all. It didn't contain the love that she could never hide, no matter how cross she was, nor how hard she tried to shield it. He always knew that Liz still loved him because she had never learned to keep her love for him from her voice.

"Max?"

But this voice 'did' love him. He could tell that. But not like Liz. It sounded like Isabel. Was she dead, too? Together, they could look for the others. He could look for Liz.

"Wake up, Max!" the voice insisted. "We haven't much time!"


As he started to regain his senses, the first thing that he noticed was how painful the light felt against his closed eyes. The next sense to return to him after that was his feeling. He felt pain, covering every inch of his body. The rest of his senses returned with a rush. He heard the steady beep of a machine to his left. He felt the tubes attached to his nostrils and the needle in the back of his wrist. His right upper arm started to feel constricted. He knew that he had a wrap strapped there, automatically recording his blood pressure, inflating and then deflating at set intervals. His eyes fluttered open, fighting against the sting of adjusting to the brightness. Everything was white. The gentle beeping beside him started to speed up. The room was white. The sheets were white. Everything was white. The beeping was accelerating. Everything was white!

"Max!"

A woman in a white overall leaned over him.

"No!" Max shouted, trying to push himself back. The fear in his voice was terrifying.

"Max!" Isabel called as she grabbed him by the shoulders. "It's me! It's Isabel."

Relief flooded his eyes.


"My blood!" Max gasped. He knew that they would have tested it. "They've taken my blood!"

"Can't be helped," Isabel shook her head. "They already took it away for testing."

"We got to get you out of here, buddy," Michael, also wearing a white doctor's coat appeared at the other side of his bed.

His arrival brought back memories. Maria! Guilt surged forward, replacing the fading fear.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," tears started to blur his vision.

"We'll worry about that later," he shook Max's feelings away. "We have to leave. Now. We have to take you away before they do."

"Can you heal yourself, Max?" Isabel was back. She was holding some clothing in her arms.

"I think so," Max nodded. "I just feel... so tried."

"Try," Isabel urged.


Concentrating on his wounds, Max found the lacerations, the contusions, the damaged muscles and broken bones. He healed as much as he could, starting with the worst of his injuries. When he had given it all he could, he almost collapsed into unconsciousness again, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten. He was not fully healed.

"Quick," she nodded her approval, thrusting the clothes at Max. "Get dressed."

"Someone's coming," Michael urged.

Leaning against Isabel, Max pulled the Jeans on, under the hospital gown. He ripped the gown off and pulled the T-Shirt over his head. He slid his feet into the trainers that Isabel had placed on the floor. It was then that he noticed the unconscious FBI agent in the chair next to his bed. At least, Max hoped he was only unconscious.

"This way," Michael pushed Max's arm over his shoulder, supporting him from the opposite side to Isabel.

As the doorway at the far end of the ICU unit opened to the sounds of heavy-soled boots rattling on the polished floor, Max, Michael and Isabel rushed through a service access at the back.


In the corridor, Michael helped Max onto a gurney and threw a blanket over him, covering his face.

"Keep still," he urged. "Play dead."

As the doctor and his nurse pushed the 'deceased' patient through the hallways, following the signs for the morgue, which, they knew, would be situated near doors to the outside world. Already, there were signs of individuals who really had no place in a civilian hospital. Men with guns, wearing uniforms. No one seemed interested in a trio, though. As far as the authorities had been aware, their 'target' was a single white male. Or something similar. Keeping an eye on them, Michael pushed the gurney into the elevator. Their hearts almost stopped when two servicemen in blue uniforms, carrying M-16 rifles stepped in with them. Both men cast appreciative glances up and down Isabel's body. She hardly knew where she found the strength to give them a flirtatious smile. Their breath exploded from their lungs when the soldiers left at the next floor.


In those last few moments before the military, or the FBI... or both were able to lock down the hospital, Michael and Isabel had smuggled Max out through the delivery bays at the back of the building and into the night. They scurried across the vast parking lot, keeping to the shadows, aware that by now, someone hostile to them would be manning the CCTV cameras. With every step, Max groaned. He had not been able to fix everything and the superficial wounds he had left in preference to more serious ones had started to hemorrhage again.

"We have to rest, Michael," Isabel urged.

"He can rest later, Isabel," Michael shook his head. "Unless you want him to rest in one of their facilities."

"No!" Max pulled his arm free from Isabel and grabbed Michael's shirt. "No. Not the white room. Get me out of here."

Michael looked at Isabel who just nodded.

"Come on," he urged. "It's not far."


"I tried, Michael," Max started again. He just had to explain. "I wanted to heal her, but Maria..."

"Not now," Michael grunted, barely hiding the pain that Max knew he had pushed below the surface. "I need to get you out of here first. Maria wouldn't thank me if I left you to them, that's for sure. She loved you, too, you know."

"But Maria... she's..."

"I know that, Maxwell!" he yelled in his friends face. "Don't think that you were the only one connected to his girlfriend, okay! I know! I just..." his stone wall fell away, revealing that Michael was feeling every bit as vulnerable as Max had felt when Liz died. "Now let's get the fuck out of here and 'then' I can fall apart."

They kept to the back streets and alleyways, ducking the cars with the flashing lights.

"You're stronger than I was," Max dropped his head and allowed his companions to carry him to safety.

"No I'm not," Michael was grunting under the strain. "I couldn't have put up with half of the shit you've had to, and still lead us."

"Some leader," Max murmured. "You were right. All those years ago. I should never have exposed us like that. Now instead of just Liz dying, it's Alex, Jesse, Kyle and... Maria too."

"Shut up, Max," Isabel snarled. "You're not helping right now."


The silence of the night sky was ripped apart by the slow winding up of a very loud, very piercing wail.

"Now what?" Michael clenched his teeth and tried to make Isabel run faster.

Max looked up into the sky, twisting his head from side to side.

"It's the nuclear warning siren," he frowned. "The one above the UFO Center."

"Great," Isabel rolled her eyes. "What do we do now? Duck and cover?"

"What's the UFO Center doing with a siren?" Michael's eyes narrowed.

"It's from when it used to be a fallout center," Max grimaced through his pain. "From the cold war."

"So why would Brody be sounding it off now?" Isabel wondered. "Is he like, joining in the hunt or something?"


There was a strange sound overhead, like the buzzing of an enormous bee. A strange ray of white light split the darkness, illuminating for a split second, a circular shape the size of a large SUV in the sky. The light streaked into the distance. There was the sound of an explosion.

"What was that?" Michael gasped.

"The sheriff's office," Max looked up the street. "I think."

"No, you moron," Isabel's eyes were widened. "That aircraft!"

"That," Max groaned, looking up into the sky. "Is the end of the world."


* * *


"I thought that was an elaborate hoax," Michael frowned.

The trio had taken shelter behind a large dumpster. The air was filled with the buzzing sound of the strange aircraft and many more streaks of light brought a kind of pseudo daylight to the streets of Roswell. All around them, the sounds of screaming, explosions and now gunfire erupted. The citizens were fighting back.

"They obviously knew something, then," Max shook his head. "It looks like Tess brought some playmates home with her."

"Look!" Isabel grabbed Max's arm and pointed up an alleyway.

Although they looked like two humans, it was patently obvious that they were not. Illuminated by a single street lamp, their faces had strips of dried skin flaking from them. They each carried a strange looking gun.
"Wait till they pass," Michael whispered to Isabel, handing her a broken length of wood. "You take the short guy."

She nodded, understanding what his intentions where. As the two Skins walked past them, Michael and Isabel leapt out from the shadow, and swung their cudgels against the small of their backs. They exploded into dust, dropping their guns to the ground. They each picked one up, testing it for weight.

"Come on," Michael nodded. "We'd better move on."


As they made their way to the city limits, eager to escape to the safety of the desert, they heard distant explosions. As they passed the municipal and governmental buildings, all were damaged or destroyed. The far off glow on the horizon suggested that the Air Force base, too was under attack.

"They've taken out the command structure," Max realized. "We have to get away from here. It's time to leave New Mexico."

"What about Mom and Dad?" Isabel looked horrified. "You don't think Tess would..."

"Steal a car, Michael," Max ordered. "Preferably a convertible. We'll swing by Mom and Dad's. If we have time, we'll check on the Parkers, too. But we have to get out of here." He indicated the space ships. "They're here for us."


The modern Jeep he had stolen really put Max's old bucket to shame. But at least it was fast and it was responsive. A necessary luxury when space ships were taking pot shots at you and anything else that moved. Michael had deliberately left the lights off. All around them, buildings and cars were burning. They could see signs of dead people in the streets. They also saw one or two Skins moving around, seemingly oblivious to the gun fire from the people who had grabbed their long hidden guns and had come to defend their streets. They also saw signs that the Skins were not having it all their own way. They saw a lucky shot from a shotgun hit the seal on one unfortunate Skin. Max hoped that the trick would be learned and copied. There were also a good many soldiers on the streets, too, moving through the streets as they had been taught and had practiced over and over.

"Know what I think?" Michael called over his shoulder.

"No," Max shook his head. "What?"

"I think these soldiers were reinforcements, sent to help locate and detain you. But they've now been pressed into more important duties."

Michael braked hard, nearly throwing everyone from the Jeep. Ahead of them was a downed ship. Someone had shot it from the sky, showing that clearly, they were not immune to SAM missiles. A figure crawled from a hatch and realized his mistake at once as a crowd of humans descended upon him. They could hear the unfortunate alien's screams above the noise of the Jeep.


Murray Lane had not been a good idea. The remains of their house was in flames. The only building in the street to have been attacked.

"Mom," Isabel whimpered. "Dad."

"Two more to the reckoning, Tess," Max spat. "This is going to be a big bill. I hope you can afford it."

"It'll get bigger, too," Michael turned in his seat.

"How do you figure?" Max looked up at him.

"I bet you the Crashdown was right after the sheriff's office. And then it was Amy."

"You're right," Isabel started to cry.

"So what do we do, Maxwell?" Michael rolled his shoulders, hefting the gun. "Do we stand and fight? Do we go out in a blaze of glory?"

"We fight smart," Max shook his head. "Lets go and hide out at the Pod Chamber. It seems that Tess used that as a staging post. So we'll go out there and wait. She will pay for this. I promise."

Michael turned in his seat and fired up the Jeep.


* * *


"Park over there, Michael," Max pointed to a small gully at the side of the road. "We'll go the rest of the way on foot. Just in case... No need to advertise our arrival."

After hiding the Jeep, Max used what little energy he had regained to heal a few of the more major wounds. He still wasn't fully functional yet.

"Here," Michael handed him the gun. "I have this," he held his hand in the air.

Max nodded.

"Pity we can't count on your shield, though." Michael looked around at his surroundings. "We'll approach from over there. Let's move it out."


Sometimes, the path was easy, covering flat, unbroken terrain. At other's the landscape was like that of some wild, distant moon. They made good time, however. The sound of resistance in Roswell had faded and the distant glow was too yellow to be the fires of burning buildings. The sun was starting to rise.

"I don't want to get caught in the open," Max shook his head. "Better find us a place to hide during daylight, Michael. I never realized how late... early it was. Jeez. How long was I out?"

Michael looked around, surveying the landscape for somewhere to hide.

"Over there," he indicated a small depression that looked almost cave like. "It'll hide us from the air as well as the sun.

Moving cautiously, they made their way to their camp for the day, wishing that they had thought to grab some provisions.


For all their precautions, they still walked into the ambush. Once again, the darkness, now being pierced by the threads of dawn, erupted to the color of energy blasts. The three of them managed to scramble to the safety of a sheltered hollow.

"Shit!" Michael cursed. "I walked straight into it!"

Peering between the rocks, they could see shadows popping into view and firing on their position. Max and Isabel used the guns to try to keep them down, by taking pot shots at them. They held the guns up in the air and took random shots, like they had seen the marines doing in the Gulf.

"We need to work our way back," Michael looked back the way they had come. "We can't get trapped here."

"If we get up and run," Max peeked out again, "they're going to cut us down."

"Give me the gun, Max," Michael held his hand out. "Now, while I fire, you two make for those rocks over there. Then you use your gun to give me covering fire. Okay?"

They nodded.

"Go!" Michael knelt up and fires his gun randomly, spraying his fire at haphazard points in an arc around them.

Isabel helped Max to scramble to the rocks that Michael had indicated. They made it just as Michael ducked beneath the return fire. When it calmed down, Isabel repeated the action while Michael scrambled to their new position. Everyone was gasping for breath.


"I don't think I can make it," Max was breathing the hardest of all. "Leave me the guns. You two get away."

"No way, Maxwell," Michael shook his head. "If anyone stays, it's going to be me."

"But I'm holding you up," Max complained. "Let me do this one thing right, Michael. Let me cover you while you and Isabel get to safety."

"It's easier going from here," Michael pointed to another set of rocks, ignoring Max. "Think you can make those?"

"Yeah," Isabel nodded, wrapping Max's arm over her shoulder.

"Ready?"

"Go!" Isabel grunted, raising herself and Max and started to run.

Michael was up, covering them again, firing at the hidden enemy. He counted at least two direct hits, grinning that they hadn't realized that they were now silhouetted against the light from the rising sun. When they started to return their fire, he dropped back to safety, checking to make sure Max and Isabel had made it.


He checked his weapon, trying to see if there was any indication of energy level, or ammunition rounds, or something. There was none, at least, that he could see.

"Hope it doesn't run out on me," he grumbled, glancing up to see Isabel give him the signal that she was ready.

He moved around so that he could jump up and start running in one fluid motion. Isabel appeared above the rocks and started firing. Michael rose, and running in a zig zag, he rushed toward his friends. He kept his eyes on Isabel, watching for when she had to drop to safety. That would be when he would have to leap for his own cover. What he didn't expect to see was an explosion of red, right in the middle if Isabel's chest.

"Isabel!" he was screaming as he almost flew over the top of the rock.

Max was already beside her, tears of frustration that there was nothing he could do. Not that he wasn't trying. Michael could see that Max was pulling in on the reserves that were keeping him alive, trying to heal Isabel, who was already past healing.

"Let her go, Max," Michael pulled his hand free. "She's gone."

While Max cradled Isabel's head, openly crying for her passing, Michael reached out and closed her eyes.


Michael was torn. Max was clearly grief stricken, yet he had to get him moving again. They still had some open ground to cover and now Max had to do it by himself.

"Can you manage?" Michael handed the spare gun to him.

"I'll have to," Max accepted the weapon.

"We'll get her for this, Max," Michael confirmed. "We'll get her."

"Who goes first?"

"I guess you should," Michael shrugged.

Max nodded.

"Go!"

If Michael could have watched, he would have seen how painful it was for him. Max was clearly struggling. A sudden hail of gunfire from the direction he was running forced him down to the ground. It felt like normal bullets, and it appeared that it was not aimed at him, but at the forces that had been pinning him down. Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, Michael was at his side and pulling him into cover.

"Who the hell is that?" he demanded, knowing that Max knew as much as he did. He hoped they were on his side.

A familiar voice told them.

"Careful, you morons!" they heard Tess's high-pitched voice cry out. "I want Zan alive. But if it looks like the others will get him, shoot him dead."

"Great wife you chose, Max," Michael groaned.

"We're pinned down in a crossfire," Max was gasping heavily. "We can't go back and we can't go forward."

"So we go this way," Michael pointed of to the side."


Giving Max as much support as he could, they scurried across the open ground, using whatever cover they could find. It seemed that the warring factions had forgotten them. Michael then zigged when he should have zagged. A searing pain exploded against his hip, throwing him forward. He crashed into the rocks and felt his friend pulling him to safety.

"Are you okay?" Max was over him in an instant, trying desperately to find some energy, anything to heal him.

"Looks like this is it," Michael grunted through the pain. His leg had been smashed. Michael would be going nowhere. He looked up and smiled at Max. "It's been real, Maxwell."

"You hang in there, buddy," Max moved to try and pick him up. "As soon as I'm rested, I'll heal you."

"Not this time, Max," Michael shook his head. He reached out and took Max's gun from him. "I just want to say, Max... Remember when you healed Liz? Well... thanks. I wouldn't trade what I had since for anything."

Max felt his tears emerging.

"You have the protection of that ridge now," Michael continued. "Use it. You can get back to the car and get the hell out of here. I'll keep them off your backs for as long as I can."

"But..."

"For once in your life Max, will you please do as I tell you? Run!"


Max nodded, embraced his friend, no, his brother, and scurried as best as he could along the path Michael had told him to. He could hear the sound of gunfire behind him. Keen to capture him, Tess's army was moving in on Michael. Max felt it when Michael died. He paused, looked back once and then started running again. He was a hunted man. Not one, but two armies were after him. He could not waste time for mourning. Not yet. A narrow miss forced him to drop. And energy bolt exploded inches from his position. He could see the Skin bearing down on him.

"I have him," he heard a shout a few feet from him. "I've captured Zan! Over here!"

A hail of gunfire cut the man down. He heard some clambering to one side and knew that others were moving in on him. He turned first one way and then the other. At every turn, he was cut off. Soldiers, from whatever side, had him surrounded. Gunfire kept him pinned down. It was only a matter of time before someone grabbed him.


Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
and I bet and you exploded into my heart
and I forget I forget the movie song


With the light of dawn bringing daylight to the desert floor, Max knew what it was that he had to do. In the distance, he heard the mournful wail of a lone coyote, welcoming the new day. He turned the vital energy reserves that had been keeping him alive in on himself. His body couldn't contain it. Screaming his last words, Max Evans exploded in a fireball that put the sunlight in the shade. All that remained were his dying words echoing across the desert.

"I'm coming for you, Liz Parker!"


When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong,

Juliet


End of Part 1


That's the hard parts over with. I promise. [/b]

Well...

If there's an award category for "Fastest Death of ALL the Main Characters", I'm pretty certain that I'm a shoe in.

When this idea hit me (while tinkering with other ideas that led nowhere, I was just too excited by it to not risk upsetting everyone. I did ponder rushing through those last 13 chapters, condensing everything to get it all out of the way quickly, but that wouldn;t have done my story any justice.

Part 2 starts tonight, and all I will tell you is this... think laterally. But you really WILL enjoy Part 2. I won;t promise total sweetness and light, but the bad bits are no where near as bad as Part 1. If you don't all have sappy grins on your face soon, then... then I will retire from Roswell fanfic.

Like I said before, thank you for hanging in there with me through such dark chapters. I know I would have found it hard reading all that. Heck, believe it or not, it was hard writing it.

aurorasky - I think it's safe to assume that you will indeed be seeing the pod squad again. And Tess.

youre my dreamgirl - Oh my! Sorry for depressing you. Part 2 will be WONDERFUL to handle.

BelevnDreamsToo - Well... at least you KNEW what was around the corner. Everyone else can only speculate. AND you had something else to keep your spirits... erm... up.

BehrObsession - Well... with some many good fanifics out there, you gotta come up with something new to keep everyone interested and surprised.

rie482 - Well, stay tuned and that empty feeling will soon be chased away.

Ellie - Yes, I understand the time question. And that WILL be answered... in a roundabout way... eventually.

kay_b - Well... being blown away is a reaction. I am glad that I can get reactions to my writing.

kittens - Well... that would have been too easy. AND there's a reason why I didn't let that happen.

roswck - Not James. He kind of put the ball in motion, so to speak, but it was someone else who really upset the applecart. But right family.

roswell3053 - Well... I have been trying to make sure that everyone was prepared for this. All those hopes that it was all a trick, illusion, mindwarp... whatever... Nope. Everyone really is dead. And Part 2 will be a whole lot happier. Guaranteed.

jbcna - I would love to hear your thoughts on where you think I'm going. pm them, please?

behrlyliz - litereally Yup. All dead. But what a twist I have prepared.

Timelord31 - Really? What ending were you expecting?

frenchkiss70 - No. Sdaly this was not a dream. Neither was it an alternative timeline, universe or anything else. And yes. Trust. YOu will LOVE that you trusted me.

Emz80m - Thank you

omwf - New start coming up and MUCH easier to Read. Fun, even.

dreamerfiend - Yes. I know how to make people cry. But I have also proved that I can make you laugh and swoon, too. Haven't I? Lots of that coming up.

roswellian137 - The next part is nowhere near as intense. But enjoyable all the same.

tequathisy - Yes. it WILL get easier. Have I not been promising that since, forever?

Zevrillion - Thank you.

roswellluver - She sure did. Except Max got himself, really.

Liz PArker Evans - Uhm... yeah. It's VEY tricky writing a story where everyone is dead.. unless I plan on bringing them all back as ghosts.

su-lyn - Well, I hope to chase that hollow feeling away very soon.

LovinGuerin2Much - I am so glad that my dramatic ending wasn't telegraphed. I think I would have been disappointed if I read someone say, "I saw that one coming" I sure someone did, but thats inevitable. The majority were surprised.

Evans3 - Sorry.

mareli - Well... I love that my writing can touch your emotions. Now, I hope to hit the happiness ones soon.

Scottie - You could have tried!

RoswellScripter - Glad you enjoyed it.

lazza - No. Starting at that time was propbably not a good idea. Glad that you enjoyed it though. But don;t worry. Part 2 is the perfect tonic.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Well... fear not. Because you will really LOVE Part 2. Trust me. (BTW, Juliet had a dagger but in my story, she was the first one and her Romeo followed HER ) Things WILL get better. Really better!

AJK001 - Well... things can;t get much darker before THIS danw, right? And as dark as it is now, that light really is the sun, the end of the tunnel, whatever. The good times are just around the corner.

smokie - At the time I wrote this, you had not yet come back with your thoughts. Good to see you back.

Michelle in Yonkers - I guess Max just wanted it all to end. As soon as he realized his time was up... maybe he was worried that he wouldn't get his chance to take his own life again. He just wanted to join Liz.

cherie - Nope. No different timelines. No waking up to strange dreams or someone using the Granolith to come back and fix something. Part 2 will start of a day or two later and keep moving forward. But all is not lost and I know precisely where it is.


On with the story...


Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 1

October 1st, 2006


The silver machine, shaped like a football with a flattened bottom, hovered into Roswell, and along Main Street, a gentle hum the only indication of its propulsion. The strange vehicle was sleek, without a single seam in sight. There were no visible doors or windows, no indentations, no extrusions... it was totally smooth. In spite of its apparent blindness, it easily dodged any obstacle in its path. The whole thing looked almost molten, giving off a dull shine. The air beneath it shimmered like rising heat haze from the road on a hot summer's day.

Its course forced it to meander in and out of wreckage from damaged buildings and burned out vehicles, both normal and extra terrestrial in nature - a reminder that they were not as invincible as many had considered. The invaders had lost a total of three of their ships during the fighting, two right here in Roswell, the other over the nearby airbase. In fact, apart from the nearby base, the people here put up the stiffest resistance in the whole invasion zone, due in part to the number of troops in town on some mission. Once they had learned that the human's surface to air threat was effective against them, they pulled the ships to a higher altitude where they could more easily dodge the projectiles. There was also the wreckage of a couple of F17s, one in the middle of the park. The human aircraft were just not maneuverable enough or fast enough to compete with them in the air. It was clear that the aliens had won this particular battle.

Small gangs of humans, both civilians and surrendered soldiers - aliens were not signatories to the Geneva Convention - toiled in the midday heat, working as cleanup crews. Each crew worked away at either clearing the wreckage and rubble that blocked the roads, the clearing the sites of damaged buildings or the removal of the many dead bodies. An overseer, one of the aliens whom the population had come to refer to as 'Skins', watched over every work gang. No one knew who it was who had first coined the nickname, but once others had noted the tendency of the aliens to shed their skins, like snakes, it had stuck, and spread. The cleanup was a mammoth task, one that needed doing, and under the efficient organization of the alien conquerors, one that had kept the frightened populace busy.

Passing dozens of these gangs, the sleek craft stopped in front of the ruin of what had once been the Crashdown Café, just across from the UFO Center. As the hum of its engines died down, the craft lowered to the ground, but still floated just above it on an invisible shield of energy. In the middle of the craft, a doorway appeared, out of nothing. A small, youthful figure, a teenaged boy dressed in an Armani suit stepped from the darkened interior. He produced a pair of sunglasses and put them over his eyes. He looked around at his surroundings, his eyes resting on the section of a mockery of a space ship that had once hung over the entrance to the Crashdown Café. He rolled his eyes and turned toward a man who had just emerged from the UFO Center, an officer dressed in a military uniform that could only be alien.

"General Nicholas," the man snapped to attention and saluted.

"At ease," Nicholas gave a halfhearted salute in return. "Give me your report."

"Sir," the soldier nodded and handed a silvery sheet of foil to the boy. "As you can see," he nodded at the ruins of the café, "target two has been completely destroyed. Sensors indicate that at least two fatalities are still buried by the rubble. Targets one 'a' and one 'b' were both destroyed, though we cannot confirm a fatality. Bodies have been detected at the station but without positive ID we cannot be sure. There were none at the house."

"What about the other targets?" Nicholas gave a smile of satisfaction as he scanned the foil. "Did we manage to hit them, too?"

"Yes sir, we did. We have already pulled two bodies from target three. They uh, were almost completely incinerated. And target four also contains the single fatality we were expecting. So all in all, we achieved all targeted objectives except for the confirmation that the one called 'Sheriff' has been terminated. Intel suggests a one hundred percent success rate for Operation Czchechoslovakia, but I will wait until we check on the bodies at the station before I make that claim."

"Good," Nicholas nodded. "Good. Operation Czchechoslovakia was merely a sideshow to this venture though, a personal score to settle, so let's not get carried away. How does the main operation go? What are you doing there?" Nicholas pointed at the UFO Center.

Although the old sign had been removed, its huge, fluorescent lettering was still identifiable by the stained shadow of dirt that remained. Nicholas made a mental note to gather some Earthlings to clean the wall. The doors of the building were open, admitting another human work crew who was busy ferrying the contents of the old tourist trap into a couple of open backed trucks. There were more Antaran guards watching this particular group as they dumped absurd plastic mockups of aliens as well as pieces of what was to Nicholas, ancient technology.

"Initial analysis indicates that this building," the officer nodded to the Center, "would make an excellent administrative headquarters, sir. It was built with a basement that could withstand the most powerful weapon these primitives posses."

"Are we expecting a counter attack?" Nicholas frowned. "Surely you don't think they would launch a nuclear strike on us? On their own people?"

"Study of their emotional reactions would suggest that they might indeed plan such a strike, sir," the officer nodded. "But at the same time, they must be wary in case public opinion decries them for the killing of the hundreds of thousands of their citizens that we effectively hold hostage."

"Have they managed to put a lid on what happened here, or has their media got hold of the story."

"The media are aware of us, sir," he smirked. "We made sure of that. Their television and radio stations have been showing images of our assault all night long. Images that naturally, we have provided. There isn't a home on this world that is not aware of us. Every newspaper on the planet carries pictures and stories. I think we can safely say that nuclear attack is not an option to them, but it never hurts to take precautions."

"But what about a conventional counter attack? " Nicholas handed the foil back. "Can we expect one soon?"

"We think not. At least, not in the immediate future. They have opened channels of communications with us already and we have agreed to a seven day cease fire. Pending peace talks with an aim to a settlement."

"Have we taken all of our objectives?" Nicholas looked at a map on the clipboard in his hands."

"Almost sir," the officer hesitated. "Except for a part of the region up here in the Northwest sector, we have captured the borders of the State known as New Mexico."

"What's up here," Nicholas indicated the part of the map that not been fully secured. The map called it 'Four Corners.'

"Nothing much," he shrugged. "Desert mainly. Lots of ancient ruined buildings, apparently. The only people who go there are tourists, archaeologists and the indigenous population. The land all around is very difficult to negotiate."

"No matter. We can be sure that they will probe us to find any weaknesses. They will also try to infiltrate a number of spies. Secure the perimeter," Nicholas handed the map back to the man. "I want it sealed up completely. I want nothing to get in and nothing to get out. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," he nodded.

"Why did you not take that whole area?" Nicholas stopped short, and peered at the man. He had learned to trust his instincts. Something was bothering him.

"There was unexpected resistance," the officer frowned. "We thought the area deserted at night. When our forces moved in, we were assaulted by defensive fire who seemed to know what they were doing. They even had energy weapons." He started to fidget with nervousness. "Sir. There's something else."

"What?"

"Last night, when Lady Ava was pursuing Zan... She too encountered unexpected resistance. With energy weapons. And they were after Zan, too. That was twelve hours ago. We've had no word from her since."

"Really?" Nicholas frowned. "So it seems we are not the only Antaran force on this planet. Someone else is after the main prize. Did they get to Zan before Ava did, I wonder? Okay. I want the surveillance of that Northwestern corner doubled. Just in case. Try and locate those defenders. I want constant aerial sweeps made of that region. If something moves out there, I want to know. I also want a search party sent out for Ava. And call in the reinforcements now. Look to our defenses in case the humans launch a counter attack. If they try to contact us, patch them through to me. I will take care of all negotiations now. At this stage, we do not want to spend our time wiping their forces out. We will need all our forces for our search. We can subjugate the rest of the planet later."

"Khivar wishes to start the mineral extraction as soon as is practical."

"I'm sure he does," Nicholas nodded. "But we need to build up our stocks to replace our lost hardware. Set up a few quarries but keep back half of what we mine. Send out the scouts to locate suitable workshops and smelting facilities. Then mobilize a workforce. And you might want to be on the lookout for suitable humans who might be interested in employment as overseers. They will be especially useful in the mines. We might want to free up more of our own troops."

"Will you not fear acts of treachery?" the officer frowned.

"Traitors always seem to recognize double agents," the general smirked. "Perhaps it's the natural instincts of cowards. Naturally, do not allow our 'volunteers' to work anywhere near anything or anyone of importance. One thing I have learned down here is that there are always weaklings who will do whatever they can to get whatever they want. And as we offer power... We will be inundated with pliable fools who want to be top dog for a change, and remember. These same fools will double cross us if they believe they have something to gain."


* * *


He was sitting behind the desk of his newly fitted office in the old UFO Center, reading the report foils from the various commanders around New Mexico.

"New Antar, I think," he smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Or Nicholasgrad?" He narrowed his eyes. "No, no. They changed back in the end. Under new management. So New Antar it is."

"Hello Nick," he heard from his doorway. He looked up, his face lighting at once.

"Tess," he smiled, rising. "No one had heard from you. I was getting worried. I even sent out some search parties."

"I'm touched. Did you hear that we're not alone on this crappy rock?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I was informed of that fact, yes," he nodded. "I take it they delayed you? Any idea who sent them?"

"Yes, they delayed me. By the time I caught up to Zan and Vilandra, the predictable idiots had already stumbled into an ambush. The others, they killed Vilandra."

"Oh," Nicholas's face fell. "Khivar won't be pleased.

"I tried to give them covering fire, so they could escape... to us, I had hoped, but they carried on running. Then someone shot Rath."

"He won't be missed," the young general shrugged. "But you captured Zan, right?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"Don't tell me that the others got him first!" his face drained of color.

"Unfortunately..." Tess looked down, "Zan killed himself. Blew himself up."

"What?"

"Yup. He stood up and just..." Tess put her hands together and then moved them apart, expanding her fingers.

"But you found the seal? That's why you were so long?"

"We searched for it, yeah," she nodded. "But couldn't find it."

"Is there any chance one of the others..." Nicholas could hardly breathe, "found it and left with it?"

"None whatsoever," Tess took a deep breath and exhaled. "When Zan exploded... it was pretty powerful. Took out half of my men and as far as I could tell, all of the others. It could have flown anywhere."

"So I have to contact Khivar and tell him that we don't have the seal and we lost Vilandra too? That's two of our three main objectives that we have failed to secure."

"Look on the bright side," Tess grinned. "Zan's dead. But when we start scanning the area, the seal's bound to turn up. It's not like we don't know how to find it."

"I hope so, Tess. I hope so."

"Did you find Brody Davis yet?"

"Not as yet, no," Nicholas shook his head.

"Is it possible that he's amongst the casualties? I saw an awful lot of dead bodies."

"No," Nicholas snorted. "He's a survivor. That's why Larek chose him. I guess I'd better send out word to our agents. I'll have them locate the other hosts. We might need to bring them in."

He paused and looked to the door. Raising his hand, it slammed shut.

"So is that all the details sorted out?" a sparkle lit up in Nicholas's eye.

"I believe so, yes," Tess nodded. "That is, I have nothing else to report."

"Good," he rose, crossed to her side and started pulling at the catches to her battle dress. "So on to personal matters. We have not had the opportunity to be alone since your return from Antar. Did you enjoy your stay?"

"You weren't there," she hook her head with a frown.

"I bet you did not find yourself lonely for too long, my sweet."

"You know I would never..." she gave him a coy smile.

"Unless Khivar ordered it," he nodded as his hands covered her breasts. "So let's make up for the lost five years. It has been to long since we last..."

"Do you have any idea how weird this feels?" Tess smirked as she pulled at his shirt buttons. "Knowing that you're like, one hundred years old and looking like you're only fifteen?"

"Damn stupid human morals," Nicholas rolled his eyes.

* * *


"Gentleman," the President of the United States of America strode into the subterranean briefing room, two miles beneath the farmland of Virginia, looking tired, and haggard.

"Madam President," everyone in the room rose to greet President Holly Clayton and gave a formal bow.

Sitting in her chair at the head of the long, oval table, she glanced around at her colleagues. Moving clockwise, she saw Terrence Maynard, the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Next came Jonathan Teague, the Secretary of State and beside him say Monica Tate, the Secretary of the Treasury. The General of the Army, Edgar T Wallace III was beside her. Directly opposite President Clayton was Arthur Hollis, the General of the Air Force while to his left sat Fleet Admiral Anthony Belleview. The Secretary of Defense, Avi Bernstein, the Attorney General, Paula Kopinsky, and the Secretary of the Interior, Paul Anstolini completed the other side of the table. On speakerphones, talking from various locations throughout the country, experts and analysts stood by. Vice President Leroy Brown was among them as was the top specialist from NASA, Professor Friedrich Webber.

"Please be seated," President Clayton indicated.

While she waited for everyone to take their seats and fill their water glasses, she adjusted her notes.

"I was woken in the early hours of this morning and informed that we have declared a Defense Emergency, an Air Defense Emergency and that we are at DEFCON One. Furthermore, I am told that we are under attack, not by the Russians, not by the Chinese, not even by some religious or politically motivated force. I am told that we are under attack by... and I quote..." she picked up a piece of paper. "Force or forces of an extra terrestrial nature, origins unknown."

She paused, giving the room an icy stare. She slammed her palms onto the desk, making everyone jump.

"What the hell is going on?"

No one wanted to be the first to speak.

"At present, we are the laughing stock of the world," she continued. "No one else is under attack. Just us. The Arabic websites proclaim that Allah is punishing us and is calling for all Islam to rise up for Jihad. The Chinese are proclaiming that this is the clearest proof yet that Capitalism is wrong and left wing demonstrations around the world attack our Embassies in support of 'their alien brethren.'" Her voice dropped. "I pray that they don't ever have to face their own invasions." She paused. "Now. Why were we taken by complete surprise? Webber!" she barked. "Why didn't anyone at NASA pick this up? That had to be a huge fucking Fleet up there."

"M-M-Madam P-P-President," Webber stuttered. "A-According to our sensors... there's nothing there. We didn't see them. We just didn't see them."

"Cloaking device of some kind?" she queried.

"We have no idea." Everyone could sense the strain he was feeling.

"Hollis," she looked at her General of the Air Force. "Did NORAD pick nothing up?"

"Nothing, Madam President," his voice was calm and clear. "But in their defense, if NASA saw nothing with their long range sensors and telescopes out in space... Our radar wouldn't have seen them either."

"We pour billions of dollars into funding these wild schemes you people have been running through Congress for decades. We need this. We need that. And when push comes to shove, I find that the U.S. taxpayers have paid for gold plated shit!"

She was standing up, leaning against the table with outstretched arms. She closed her eyes and shook her head.


"Before we get to the military situation," she continued, "Paul, perhaps you could fill us in with what's happening countrywide?"

"In a word," Paul Anstolini, the Secretary of the Interior cleared his throat after gulping down some water. "Panic. In every city, in every town, the people are on the streets. The FAA have grounded all flights because people were taking pot shots at them, believing them to be an alien invasion. It's worse the closer to the Alien Zone you get. Citizens are paranoid that an extra terrestrial fifth column is already at work, perpetuated by proponents of the 'among us' theories. People challenge strangers to prove they are human, and just murder those who can't. There's wide spread looting, especially of grocery stores and gas stations. Our police forces are stretched thin, all leave has been cancelled, we have called out the National Guard in every single state and we have even drafted in ROTC members to help out. It's..." he waved his hands in the air. "Chaos. And there are lines of refugees heading away from the battle zone which is only adding to the confusion."

"Is there anything you need?" she asked.

"Money," he nodded. "Money and manpower."

"Thank you, Paul," the President glanced at her notes.


"General Wallace," she looked up at the General of the Army. "Edgar. Perhaps you could give me a run down of the situation."

"As of zero six hundred hours this morning," the general rose and walked to a large map of the U.S.A. on the wall. He pulled a silver pen from his pocket and pulled the end, expanding it into a pointer. "The alien forces are holding over ninety percent of the State of New Mexico." He outlined the state. "All military bases have been confirmed destroyed. We have no casualty figures as yet, but we can assume sixty percent either dead, M.I.A. or P.O.W. We are getting reports of large numbers of units who have managed to cross the borders and are regrouping at various staging posts for debriefing. Here, here, here and here." He punctuated his words with snaps of the pointer at co-ordinates marking north, south, east and west of New Mexico. "Now at the moment, we have negotiated a seven day cease-fire, and we have hinted that we wish to enter into some form of dialog. Meanwhile, we are throwing up a defensive cordon, calling almost every reserve we have to cover. The cordon is not only to keep them in, Madam President, but to keep others out. We are being met by all kinds. Sightseers, ghouls, alien seeking weirdoes who want to welcome them, alien seeking weirdoes who want to fight them and alien seeking weirdoes who just want to say 'I told you so.'" The general paused and took a mouthful of water. "We've even got a whole host of those militia groups turning up wanting to, and I quote," he picked up a note, "Kick their sorry alien butts back into space."

The president allowed the controlled burst of snickers.

"So what is your military assessment? I know that we have a cease-fire in place, but if you were ready... if we launched a full scale assault, from all sides, could we defeat them?"

The general sat down and shook his head while releasing his breath.

"If we pulled every American serviceman from active duty from all around the world, then yes. I think we might just about be able to do it. But at what cost?"

"We already know that all twelve aircraft that managed to enter the invasion zone were shot down, Madam President," Arthur Hollis, the General of the Air Force admitted. "And we didn't shoot a single one of theirs. That's why I ordered them to stop."


"We have heard rumors that some SAM activity claimed one or two, so we know they are not invulnerable, but in the air... we are no match," General Wallace continued. "On the ground, it seems that they are impervious to bullets, but there is evidence that shows we have killed a significant number. My best tactical experts have run a few scenarios, based on the data we have, and the results show conclusively that if we mass our forces then we can kick them out, but will probably lose in excess of seventy five percent of our own men. As for our mechanized forces and our air force... I think we might lose it all."

"And be open to any hostile nation that bears a grudge," Vice President Brown added over the speakerphone. "Russia and China spring to mind,

"And we don't know if they have their own reinforcements on the way," Friedrich Webber added.

"Does anyone know why?" Avi Bernstein asked. "I mean, why New Mexico? Why not the oil fields in the gulf? Or the diamond mines of South Africa? Or the gold reserves in Fort Knox. Why would an advanced civilization fly... god knows how many light years, just to occupy thousands of square miles of desert? What's in it for them?"

"Maybe they want their buddies back," Admiral of the Fleet Belleview comment. "You know. The ones we are supposed to have in Area 51."

"All that distance," Monica Tate snorted. "And they invade the wrong fucking State."

"Has anyone pieced together a timetable yet?" Holly looked around the room. Can anyone tell me exactly what happened?"

"Uh," Jonathan Teague, the Secretary of State held up is hand and threw nervous glances at the others, hoping that someone else might have their own version. No one did. "I have... sort of."

"Well, let's hear it, Jonathan," the President sat down in her seat.

"Well, as close as we can determine, based on evidence from various sources, all debriefed in safe houses outside of New Mexico... It all seemed to start in Roswell."

"Roswell?" everyone gasped. "There's a turn up."

"The first person to detect anything was a man called Brody Davis. He was the, uh... proprietor of the town's UFO Museum. He claimed that a few years ago, he was abducted by aliens on more than one occasion. He keeps rather sophisticated equipment in his cellar. He claims that at around zero one hundred hours, he was alerted by an oscilloscope that he recently purchased that measures fluctuations in the ionosphere... don't ask," he shook his head. "He claims that he saw something... strange. So he went up onto the roof to perform a visual check. He says that he saw a pair of circular space ships descending on the town. The first ship took out what he believes was the Sheriff's office while the second ship took out a diner across the street. He started to crank up the old nuclear warning siren and kept it running until alien soldiers appeared and started firing upon him. He ran, taking his car to the Texas border. The siren brought people out on the streets, many with their guns, and started the fight back."

Jonathan paused to take a sip of water.

"At the same time, there had been some strange disturbance at the hospital. It appears that an alien, probably an advance scout or something, was injured earlier in the day, planting explosive devices. Appearing human, he was taken to the hospital. Blood tests showed his extra terrestrial nature and the military was sent for. An advance group tried to lock down the hospital but he escaped. But the backup column reached Roswell just as the siren went. The officer in command, a Major Bartel, tried to restore order with his men and so were already deployed when the aliens attacked. It was this that allowed a cohesive but doomed defense of the town center. One report mentions that a Private Williams brought the first space ship down with the means of a grenade launcher he fired from a rooftop. Tragically, the same ship crashed into the roof seconds later. As bravely as the men fought, it was obvious that they were outnumbered. Major Bartel regrouped the men and as many civilians as would follow and led an orderly withdrawal, leaving Roswell to the aliens. Elsewhere in New Mexico, they didn't have the advanced warning nor the soldiers ready in the streets and they seem to have pretty much woken up to the new occupation."

"Thank you Jonathan," Holly smiled at him. "Please have your written report on my desk by this afternoon. As for the rest of you, I want your reports, as well as any recommendations as to how we should proceed from here."

A military policeman marched into the room and saluted to the President.

"Madam President, Sir," his face showed that he was unused to referring to a woman as sir and did not know how else to address the Commander in Chief. "There's a gentleman to see you. Topside, sir. He says that you really should speak to him."

"Tell him to go away, lieutenant," she dismissed him. "We have more urgent issues to deal with than some crackpot out there with another Star Wars theory."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but this man claims to have just come from Roswell. He says that he flew in a light aircraft, dodging alien ships and frightened civilians because he has information, sir. Vital information about the aliens, and how to defeat them."

"Is he a friendly?" General Wallace frowned.

"Sir, no sir. He's wearing a uniform, sir. Pretty beat up, but it's a uniform. Sir."

"Does he have a name?" Holly smiled.

"Sir, yes sir. The name is Valenti. Sheriff James Valenti. Junior." He paused. "Sir."

* * *

First of all... With the approach of this latest hurricane, I know that at least ONE person important to me is in danger. So please, please, please be safe, stay safe, and I really hope you and your family come through this okay. (And I just heard, she's okay ) And anyone else in that region, the same goes for you. Please be safe.

My thoughts are with you all.


* * * * * * *

Okay, that last part was important, because I needed to let you all know what had happened, and what is happening, while I get on with the rest of the story. I know you are all anxiously waiting to find out what has happened to the gang, and as of tonight, you will be finding out.

Enjoy the ride!

Zevrillon - It gets easier.

Ellie - Glad you enjoyed it. And the sappy stuff starts building up from tonight.

BehrObsession - Oh yes. I will most definately be reintroducing all of our deceased characters, And how!

kay_b - Thank you

omwf - Glad you're aboard.

roswck - Hmmm... If Zan had the seal, and died in New Mexico, how would it get to the boy in a coma on the East Coast?

lazza - Keep that sappy grin handy. Correct on you assumption for Operation Chzchoslavakia.

Jen11Star - Well... hope that jaw soon goes back to where it belongs...

Emz80M - Thank you

frenchkiss70 - You have it correct. And Jim is apparently the only one left alive out of the gang and their folks. Well... no seemed to target Mrs. Ramirez. Maybe she still lives.

Venus2_star.com - Who will clone the Roswell gang? Jim???

roswell3053 - Well... one candle in a sea of darkness.

Timelord31 - What makes you think they already aren't?

mareli - I do try to remember that there is a whole world out there when writing. And if I introduce an alien invasion, then I have to show the world reacting to it.

aurorasky - If Nikolas knew Jim was alive, then yes, he would want to finish him. But does he know?

roswellluver - Like I said... one candle...

Evans3 - Like I said. How would it make the trek from New Mexico to Georgia? Tess and her minions were all over that piece of real estate. If they couyldn;t find it, no one could.

behrlyliz - I like how everyone reacted to this chapter. When I wrote it, I looked upon it as purely an information packed transition.

Alien614 - Well, I hope that you didn;t start a 2 AM like someone else did recently

roswell3053 - Okay - We know that the girl is blonde and has green eyes. Do you really want Liz to be blonde and green eyed? Hmmm....

jbcna - LOL - Okay. As long as you enjoy it, thats all that matters.

su-lyn - Thank you.

Roswelllostcause - I hope you will forgive me if it takes a while to kick Tess and Nick's butt. Actually, I KNOW you will forgive me. he he he he

tequathisy - Yup Answers coming. Not as fast as you want but fast enough.

Michelle in Yonkers - I have a very big magicians hat that is ideal for pulling things out of the fire. Your assumptions were correct, but get those dancing shoes warmed up.

Scottie - See my note below about four corners. I thought you would comment on the Female Prez. Thought you would comment on the name, too And guess what I have up my sleeves? Yup. Arms. And this neat little story coming up.

Sali103 - Thank you

AJK001 - You can undo that buckle now. It's plain sailing from here. Just a few waves along the way.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Trust me... the sap is coming. On it's way. Starting tonight!

dreamerfiend - LOL - Well... what the heck, it's fiction. Yes, that seal. Like I said... how could it get from Max to the the kid in the coma? And what if that kid isn;t Max???

cherie - I'm sure... once they get over the chock of Jim's story, that TPTB will listen. He has, after all, first hand knowledge. And he no longer has to worry about protectiong Max;s secret cause he's gotta figure out that they're all dead.




Okay - A couple of general points.

No one catch my play on the name of the Prez??

And the Four Corners is only considered important in that the Aliens encountered some opposition there. Thats all. They did not expect to find anything there at all, that was not a target, they were not going to look for something there. The only thing special about that region is that they were unable to capture THAT PART of New Mexico and it coincidently Chaco Canyons are in that part.


Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 2


October, 2006


Emptiness.

As his senses started to awaken, that single emotion was the first thing that he felt. Isolation. An aching loneliness. An overriding feeling that something was missing. Not something tangible, such as an arm or a leg, but something... other. Something more spiritual. The great, yawning void seemed almost all encompassing, overshadowing all other feelings... with the exception of one.

Responsibility.

And the terrible thing about that was that he had absolutely no idea what it was that he was supposed to feel responsible for.


As his sense of self grew, the oppressive sensation of a hollow feeling started to dissipate, but never quite disappearing. His mind started to work and in so doing, a question sprang to mind:

"Where am I?"

It took him a moment to realize that the question he had voiced was not done so verbally, but mentally. There was no one to hear him. The feeling of loneliness returned, threatening to engulf him again and it took some time for him to calm himself with the consideration that he had clearly not expected anyone to have heard him, anyway. Either in the verbal or the mental sense. He 'was' alone. In more ways than one. So that begged the question:

"Who am I?"

In the silence of his empty soul, he knew that who a being was is defined by his surroundings, by his companions, by his actions. What then, for someone such as he? Surrounded by emptiness, alone. Did that make him... nobody? This gave rise to the all important question:

"What am I?"

He hadn't expected an answer, so when it came, it brought with it a new emotion. Surprise.

"Different," a harsh yet strangely soothing voice replied.

His first reaction was to realize that he was not in fact alone after all. His second was to realize that the strange answer asked only more questions.

"Different, how?"

"Different in that you are the only being in all of creation like you."

"So this feeling I have... this emptiness... I 'am' alone."

"I didn't say that."

"So... I'm not alone?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"Then tell me. What am I?"

"You are what you are," the detached voice gave a mental shrug. "You are who you choose to be. You are where you wanted to be."

"Can't you be a little more specific?"

"Not really. To tell you who you are, what you are; would be to confine you within the bounds of pre-ordained constraints. You have to choose for yourself. You have no attachments, to this life or any other. It's all about freedom, and the ability to choose for oneself. The answers, and more, will be found on your journey, a journey that 'you' specified. You were never one to be restricted by the belief of fate. Of destiny. You have always believed that it was your journey that defined your destination and not the other way around. You have always believed that you could choose your own journey. That is why it was you that I chose to be my tool."

"I am your tool?" Surprise. "Does that not constrain me into a pre-ordained destiny? That I must do your bidding? Does that not define who I am, even in some small way?"

"Only that I chose you for this task two lifetimes ago. In all of creation, every living being has the freedom to choose for themselves, the path they will take. Choose to perform my task. Choose to ignore it. You have the right. The journey is yours to make. I would like to say that you have already been acting on my behalf. For you, your journey began a long, long time ago, a long, long way away. You still have the freedom to change your path, however. How it all turns out is up to you. But know this. Choosing the right path brings rewards. This time, more than any other."

He considered this.

"So where am I?"

"That question really has no meaning. If I gave you the answer it would give you no help."

"Can you tell me what it is that I must do?"

"No."

"Who... or, what... 'are' you?"

"I am everything. I am nothing."

"That is hardly a suitable answer."

"It was hardly a suitable question."

"Is there a point to this conversation?"

"You started it."

"Is there anything useful, anything at all that you 'can' tell me?"

"Nothing."

Another emotion. Frustration.

"But..." it continued. "There is something I can 'show' you."

An image started to come together. A kind of shape... a dome. But not quite. Octagonal in shape, it rose from the ground, constructed as a series of long, thin... tubes forming vertical walls. At about head height, the length of the tubes shortened, interlocking as they spiraled over the top, affecting the curved domed roof. From the dome's pinnacle, a long, misshapen spike speared upwards, a number of jagged protrusions sticking out from it. It was bold, it was garish, it was... hideous. It was something that he had never seen before yet it was almost... a memory."

"What is that?" he demanded.

"If you like," it felt like a smirk. "Think of it as your destiny."

"And where is it? Where can I find it?"

"Find it?" the voice seemed amused. "You can't find it. It doesn't exist."

The presence that the voice provided was gone. He was alone again. And in that overwhelming sense of nothing, all of his senses vanished.


* * *


Emptiness.

As his senses started to awaken, that single emotion was the first thing that he felt. Isolation. An aching loneliness. An overriding feeling that something was missing. Not something tangible, such as an arm or a leg, but something... other. Something more spiritual. The great, yawning void seemed almost all encompassing, overshadowing all other feelings... with the exception of one.

Responsibility.

And the terrible thing about that was that he had absolutely no idea what it was that he was supposed to feel responsible for.


As his sense of self grew, the oppressive sensation of a hollow feeling started to dissipate, but never quite disappearing. His mind started to work. A small humming sound invaded his senses. It was faint, something just beyond the edge of reasoning where if he concentrated on it, he wasn't quite sure if he was really hearing it, or if it was but a figment of his imagination.

The feeling of warmth pervaded him next. A comfortable sensation that soothed him in a state of calm. Of comfort. Just above the steady hum, he could hear other sounds. A soft, rhythmic beeping. A slow and steady clicking sound. In the background, a strange but muted roar, that rose and fell at different pitches, like the irregular breaths of a sleeping monster. Apart from the sensation of loss, he liked it here. He felt safe. But he also knew that it was time to break free from his protective cocoon and discover what... who he was. Who he 'is'.

His eyes blinked open, allowing him to see... nothing. A nothing as empty as he felt. Only, it was blue. A blue nothing that kept him warm and comfortable. Safe. And alone. But it was time for him to leave. He could sense that. The surroundings that had been his home for... how long? It would no longer support him. Unless he left, he would slip into another easy sleep. And die. Alone and empty. He would not allow that. He reached out his arm, seeing his hand, his fingers outstretched, and met the barrier. This is what had kept him alive in his environment. This is what would turn into a death trap. He pushed his fingers against the barrier, a feeling of relief flooding him when they pierced the membrane and pushed through to... what? To the outside world.

Through the tear he had made with his fingers, the dam burst. The intense pressure of the cocoon's interior pushed against the puncture, rupturing it from top to bottom. The warm, fluid contents all rushed through the opening at once. He fell out of his safe encasement, dropping amid the liquids that had supported him, onto the hard floor. An ignominious introduction to his new environment.

His mind started to spin. As he struggled to rise from the ground, his body - starved of sustenance - started to complain. Everything was going black again. An intense pressure built up at the back of his throat. A very unpleasant feeling. It was almost like... He coughed, expelling a lungful of the life giving liquid that might very well have taken it away again. Almost immediately, his empty lungs forced him to suck in huge gulps of air. Erratically, and with an almost desperation, he was breathing. It was time to stand. They might have wobbled like jelly, but he was soon able to stand up on his own two legs.

That was when he noticed where he was. White. His legs gave way as his mind went on a fear overload. Everything was white. His heart rate rose and he was struggling to breath. The room he was in was circular in shape. The walls were smooth, and painted white. The floor was solid... and white. Even the ceiling, a long way above was painted white. A white staircase followed the white wall to the white ceiling. He spun around, terrified of all that white. The only color in the room was the splash of blue on the wall behind him, the square, gray unit beside them, and the brown of two large boxes on the opposite wall. He did not like white, white meant danger. White meant fear. White meant... death.

Sensing no danger, though his eyes constantly searched for something as yet unidentified, he fought the rising panic and clambered to his feet again. Aware that because he was wet, and naked, his new environment felt cold. Without fully realizing why, or even how he knew, he approached one of the tall boxes, his mind watchful. Opening the door, he found two sets of clothing, hanging from a long thin tube. A flash of light caught his eye, attracting his attention to the back of the door he had just opened. Still feeling the apprehension from all that white, what he saw almost knocked him over again.

A boy was staring back at him, naked, like him. He imagined him to be about fourteen years in age. He was tall and lean, with well-defined muscles even at that age. His hair was dark brown, almost black, rich and slicked down by the fact it was wet. His eyes were a rich golden color, a burnt gold that showed a rich depth of emotions. Fear, worry, loneliness. The boy was just like him. When he took a step towards him, so too did the boy. They both started to laugh in silent mirth when he realized that he was looking at his own reflection. Wondrously, he studied himself. His sensitivity at the sight of his disappointingly protruding ears was overridden by the macho pride he felt when he noticed the light covering of hair over his genitals. The smile showed that he knew he had been blessed.

He reached back in to the box, and knowing which set of clothing was for him, he pulled them out. Quickly, he dressed himself, frowning that there were no shoes. Although he was still damp when he did so, he felt warmer now. Having seen to his own needs, he turned to the color that helped to break down all that white. He turned to the blue on the far fall.

There were four of them. Pods, he knew they were called. Two on top, two below, forming a perfect square. One, his, was already opened, it's rich glowing color already paled. The pool on the floor the only evidence that something had happened. He knew he had to wait but he also knew that he could not do so for long. This room was danger. White. He sat on the floor against the box and watched, his eyes going from one pod to the next in a never ending circle. The gray unit beside the pods gave off the steady hum that he had heard. There was a rhythmic beeping sound coming from near the top where a single red light flashed on and off, clicking as it did so, next to the three darkened ones. All around him, he could still hear the monster breathing. And he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that the monster was white.

Another beep joined in with the first. Another red light illuminated, matching its brother as it flashed on and off. He rose, and stood by each pod in turn, wondering which would be the one to open next. His eyes stopped at one, the one above his, knowing that this would be the one. He turned to the boxes again and opened the other one. He pulled out a large, folded sheet. He ignored the fact that it was white. This was too important. Shaking out the folds, he threw the sheet over his shoulder and approached the pod just as fingers punched through and a naked shape spilled out, onto the floor. He helped her - for she was a female - to her feet. She was as tall as he, with straw colored hair. She had a body that would cause the arousal of any normal male, had he not been her brother. He folded the towel around her and hugged her.

"Vilandra," his mind recognized her. He spoke to her without moving his lips.

"Zan," she sounded pleased to see him. She looked around the room. "I hope you saw enough because that's the last time you'll ever see me naked." Her lips remained motionless, too.

"I saw 'too' much," he teased. He gave a shrug. "You're not so hot."

"Where are we?" she rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Safe," is all he would say. His eyes were drawn to the white walls. "For now. But we must leave as soon as we can."

"What about the others?" she watched him cross to the box again. He returned with her clothes. "We have to wait for them."

While Vilandra dressed, a third beep joined the song. A third light started to blink. Zan turned to the box and pulled out another towel just as a young male fell to the floor. He looked up, his eyes a little wild. When he saw Vilandra, he curled up into a ball."

"Uh, Lonnie?" he frowned as he pressed his hands over his genitals. "Can you give me a little privacy?"

"Leave it alone, Rath," she giggled, turning her back as Zan threw him the towel. "It'll fall off."

Rath dressed himself while asking the same questions that Vilandra had asked. He gave him the same answers. The three of them waited for the fourth pod to open.

"We have to go," Rath urged.

"We have to wait," Zan shook his head. "She won't be long."

"We have to go, Zan," Rath's voice echoed in his mind. "Now!"

"Listen to him," Vilandra agreed. She didn't understand how it was that she knew this, she just did. "He's right. We need to leave now."

The three young teenagers scurried up the spiral staircase around the edge of the wall, to the hatch door in the ceiling above. A huge bolt secured the door, preventing anyone opening it from above. Zan frowned at the implication and took a last look around the white room, suppressing a shudder as he wondered who could have locked it. Sliding back the bolt, he pushed up the hatch. The three of them climbed up into another white, circular room. This one was much, much taller. There was a large piece of machinery in the middle. Huge with misshapen metal bands surrounding it. The whole thing hummed louder than the small one down stairs. High above them, they could hear the sound of friction. Something heavy was rubbing against something else. A continuous rolling sound. Around the edge of the wall, another staircase led upwards. But to the side of the hatch, there was a doorway. Pushing the hatch down, they heard the huge bolt slide home, and the seam vanished. Zan breathed a sigh of relief. She would remain safe.

They turned to the door. Zan paused, hearing that the sleeping monster was louder here. It sounded like it was outside the door. He was reluctant to open it, fearing that he might awaken it. Sensing his reluctance, Rath pushed to the fore and pulled the door open. It was dark outside, and the monster's breathing intensified. Rath stepped through, closely followed by Vilandra. Swallowing hard, Zan followed, and came face to face with his monster.

They were on a rocky island. The building they had just come from was white, and tall, stretching into the heavens. Above them, a light ran in circles, sending its bright beam out into the dark. Waves crashed against the rocks, in a rhythmic pounding that could almost sound like the irregular breathing of a sleeping monster. As he watched the waves pounded into foam, the strong, cold winds helping with the mix, Zan saw that he had been right about one thing. The monster 'was' white.

"Look," Rath pointed.

Away in the distance, they could see lights, and the dark smudge that suggested shore.

"How do we get there?" Vilandra demanded, looking around for some form of transport.

"I... I guess we swim," Rath shrugged.

In the distance, they heard the sound of an engine. Something was approaching. The way that the engine kept stopping and then restarting again, it was clear that whoever it was, they were in trouble.

"Up there," Rath pointed up in the sky.

A strange cross shape was silhouetted in the night sky. A series of lights, white, red and green, winked at them. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it disappeared again, in a huge ball of yellow and red. They watched in horror as the burning craft fell from the sky and into the sea.

"That will summon danger," Zan urged. "We must hurry."

A path led from the foot of the white tower toward the water. The path seemed to continue into it. Leading the way, Zan flinched at the cold as he waded down the ramp and deeper into the water. As it rose to his waist, he launched himself and started to swim toward the distant shore. He paused and looked back.

"Come on," he waved. "Quickly."


For every hundred meters they swam, Zan swam another fifty, moving from one to the other, making sure that they stayed together. He would not allow the currents to pull them apart. Their safety, their very survival depended upon them being there for one another. It seemed to take ages and when the threesome finally staggered up onto the sandy beach. They lay on the cool, damp sand, gasping for their breath. Behind them, the distant white tower winked at them. They were suddenly bathed in light.

"I found someone!"

Someone shouted in a strange language. Turning toward the source of the light and the noise, they saw a silhouette of a... person. From the way that person stood, it was obvious that he was pointing something at them.

"Right you three," he snarled, though the three in question could make no head or tail of his language. "Get your hands in the air where I can see them."

More beings appeared, all pointing something. The first one moved closer.

"I said get 'em up!" he yelled again, waving his gun up and down to emphasize his order.

It might just as well have been gibberish. Getting no response from them, the person kicked at the nearest of the three. Rath. Zan was up in an instant, grabbing the man and pushing him back. The others all lifted their sticks, aiming them at them. Weapons. Danger. Zan cowered with his family. Beneath him, the sand was white.

* * *

Hi Everyone,

First of all, can I say that I have never recieved a piece of feedback from anyone that has left me feeling in any way aggrieved. Everyone has always been so very kind and for that, I thank you.

I did once recieve a harsh email, angry after the Chapter in "Blue Remembered Hills" where it looked like Liz was in moral peril at the hands of Nikolas. But that was understandable.

So... I'll continue to write my stories as long as you continue to enjoy them.

On with the show!

Total confusion. And surprisingly, I didn't set out to achieve it.

The questions seem to be:

WHAT? A second set of pods. I hope that was clear. Bad writing if it wasn't and for that, I'm sorry.

WHO? Yes, it's the Pod Squad, and yes, it appears that Ava has been left behind again.

WHERE? That will be answered tonight. And as for the sand being white, remember that it is night with headlights illuminating them. It 'looks' white. Please don't flame me if the sand in this region could never be mistaken for white in ANY light.

WHEN? I said it at the start.

WR wrote:October, 2006

You can safely assume a few days to a week AFTER the alien invasion of New Mexico. There is no time travel (other than the flashes to the back history) and the story progresses linearly.

Other questions, like WHO set the pods up, WHERE Liz and co are, etc... Sorry. You have to wait.

Okay...

BehrObsession - Well.. I hope the above, as well as tonight's cahpter will answer your questions.

Liz Parker Evans - Hmmm... Well... the clues I can give would give part of the fun ahead away. Hopefully things will be more clear tonight.

Ellie - I always figured that 'all knowing voices' would love to play tricks like that,

omwf - Well... look upon it as the start of an explanation. I had to get something across to you. Something HAD to be set up. And no has commented on it so when the hammer falls, everyone is going to say. "Ohhh! I get it! It all makes sense now."

dreamerfiend - Well... as Ava had been left behind... again... we shall have to wait and see.

roswellluver - Not confused?

Alien614 - Hope the confusion starts to ease.

lazza - Fair assumption. Can;t tell you that. Seems a safe bet. Ah yes. How indeed? There will be lots more questions like that, I expect. No. They didn't leave Tess behind. Tess is in New Mexico with Nik.

frenchkiss70 - Well... At the very least, Zan, Rath and Vilondra have been reborn. As for Zan being bullied... ring a bell? I got the impression that a young Max always got pulled along by the other two.

tequathisy - Well.. hope this are a little less murky now. As for your theory... Hmmm... Well in that case, Max has just left Liz behind. And with the other two spread across southern US...

mareli - All answered tonight.

Timelord31 - Yes. They do appear to have got caught. But by whom?

Evans3 - I have been called 'cruel'. I have been called 'tricky'. I have been labelled the 'King of Cliffhangers'. I have been called lots of similar names. But I have never been called 'honey' before! Thank you! :):):):)
BTW - Of course they're on Earth. Do you think Max could ever meet Liz again if it wasn't?

behrlyliz - Ah yes. How did they end up in their pods? To answere that would be to give too much away, But think laterally and you will get it. There has been a clue or two, but it's a little ... obtuse.

LTL - You know I'm thinking of you. And sorry that Part 1 was a hard read. This Part gets better and better. Take care.

Venus_star2.com - You are right. Course, that October 2006 must have helped.

su-lyn - Well... it couldn;t have been Tess who was left behind this time. She;s still in NM.

Scottie - Thank you, Scottie. I had to show you something to make you realise this was our Max.

AJK001 - That's the worst of the bumps over for this chapter. Here on is it just gets better and better. Then comes PArt three... so keep the seatbelt ready, but not for ages yet.

roswell3052 - Only have to wait one week.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - I promised that Part 2 would be enjoyable. Would I really produce the New York versions for that? Justr place your trust in me.

Michelle in Yonkers - Okay. Bad writing. Busted. I only emphasised Max's problems because we were in his mind at the time. You can expect that the others had the same problems. Sorry.


cherie - I had fun with all that white. When I decided where the 'pods' would be, I suddenly realised that the room would be white.

jbcna - It all somes out in the wash. Trust me.

Now, a final note. Remember what the Bard said. "Whats in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet"

Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 3

Red and blue lights were flickering everywhere. The three terrified teenagers sat in a small huddled group, surrounded by an assortment of vehicles with their light’s illuminating them. Their hands were cuffed behind their backs. Huddling together for both comfort and warmth, they were still wet from their ordeal in the ocean, and they could feel the chill of the night seeping into their bones. A group of men, wearing identical clothing and dark peaked caps stood around them, their long weapons still aimed at them. Behind them, a number of others, not clearly visible, stood watch, also with weapons silhouetted by the lights. They could sense their captor’s hostility. The three young pairs of eyes were wide with fright. In spite of their fear, their senses were drowned out by Zan’s sorrow. An overwhelming sense of failure.

The heavy roar of two vehicles disturbed the strange silence. With loud squeaks, they came to a halt just behind the ring of light. A number of dark shadows leapt from the transport. They seemed to huddle for a few moments before half the men spread out into the darkness. The others entered the circle, the original group opening to let them pass. The newcomers also held weapons, though they did not use them to threaten.

“Sergeant York,” one of the men gave a halfhearted salute. “U.S. Army, second division. Who’s in charge here?”

“That’d be me,” one of the men holding a weapon used it to indicate himself. “Special Officer Daly.”

The sergeant recognized at once what he was dealing with. His uniform was one of the newly issued ones. This was one of the new breed of policemen drafted in to help contain a difficult situation. Untrained and as thick as pig shit.

“You the one who called us?”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded.

The sergeant looked down at the frightened teenagers.

“You wanna tell me why the hell you think the Army would be interested in a couple of half drowned kids?”

“Not kids,” the officer grinned, using the rifle to indicate his captives. “Them’s aliens. P.O.W.’s.”

The sergeant turned to his men, shaking his head.

“Aliens, huh?” he looked back at the policeman. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“About ninety minutes ago, I was over there at Kure Beach,” he pointed north. “I stepped out of my vehicle on account of I needed to answer a call of nature if you know what I mean. So I’m just zipping myself up when from the north, I hear this buzzing sound. I remembered how in New Mexico, them aliens attacked with them buzzing space ships so I fetched my gun outta the car. I saw that alien ship with them lights a-flashing just off shore, like. So I just started pumping shells into it. I hit it, too, cause the engine just starts cutting in and out. Next thing I know, it just blows itself up. Boom. Clear outta the sky. Just over there by the lighthouse out on Sheephead Rock. So I call for backup and hightail it on over here. Next thing we know, these aliens come crawling outta the water, without so much as a by your leave.”

The senior officer turned to his men again, exchanging a look of disgust.

“Well, gentlemen,” he turned again to Special Officer Daly. “I’m afraid that we’ve had no intelligence that aliens resemble thirteen or fourteen year old kids.” He turned to the youth that the other two seemed to regard as in charge, the one who seemed that he would protect his friends or die trying. “How old are you son?”

There was no answer.

“See?” Daly grinned, “They can’t talk. They don’t understand a damned word we say. They’re alien all right. They’re wearing disguises. I heard they do that.”

“I expect they’re just traumatized, you dip-shit!” the sergeant snapped.

“Hey, you can’t talk to me that way,” he looked to his colleagues for support. “I heard what they did over in New Mexico, dressing up as nuns and shit.”

“Hey, Sarg,” someone called from the direction of the shoreline. “Take a look at this.”

Sergeant York cast a last glare at Daly and pushed his way through the Special Officers and the civilians, down to the man who called him. The soldiers all came back together, carrying a large piece of something white. It was rectangular in shape but had three sections where something had been torn from it. Two along one edge and one across the other. Black lettering spelled out LH35.

“That looks like the fuselage of a Cessna to me, Sarg,” one of the soldiers who had remained called. “See that damage on the top? It’s where a handle should be. Those other two are hinges. It’s the aft access hatch.”

“A Cessna?” Sergeant York called back. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” came the reply. “I used to work for them before I joined up. When I was a kid, not much older than them.”

“You hear that Special Officer Daly?” the sergeant thrust the debris at him. “Since when do aliens use Cessnas, instead of their own ships? Consider yourself under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Murder,”

“You can’t arrest me until you find proof someone died,” Daly smirked. “I may be new at this, but I know my rights. Most you can get me for is willful destruction of property.”

“Attempted murder, then” Sergeant York nodded at the three youths. “And the kidnapping and holding hostage of minors.”

“You don’t have the right,” Daly sneered. “You don’t hold jurisdiction because this isn’t a military matter.”

“We received a call that informed us of an alien invasion in Wilmington, Special Officer Daly. That means that as of that call, the state of North Carolina has been under military law. And I can shoot you on the spot you scum sucking pond crawler. Now you will relinquish your weapon.”

The officer looked to his colleagues for support. None was forthcoming. With a sneer of disgust, he handed his gun to a soldier.

“Get him out of here,” he nodded his head. “And for fucks sake, someone free those kids and get them some blankets. Does anyone have any hot drinks they can give them?”

Three officers hurried to the kids with keys at the ready. Some blankets suddenly appeared and were wrapped around their shoulders. Half a dozen thermos flasks appeared. A couple of women among the civilians stepped forward to see to the teenager’s comforts. Meanwhile, Sergeant York took complete control of the cleanup operation.

“You,” he pointed to the small cluster of Special Officers. “I want you to go with these two soldiers. Split into two groups. One go south, the other, north. Look for any survivors, or casualties. Retrieve any wreckage you find. The FAA will want to go over everything. Damned plane shouldn’t even have been up there.”

The two soldiers saluted and moved to the shore with the officers.

“Ladies,” he called to the women looking after the kids. “When you have them more comfortable, can you move them into one of our Jeeps? We’ll take them to the hospital and get them checked out. I expect Social Services will want to take over, then. Fix ‘em up someplace to sleep till they find their next of kin. The rest of you, go home. Rodriguez, you drive. Jenkins, secure the area. Keep this place clear for the investigation.”

He left the men to get on with it and followed Rodriguez to the Jeep.


* * *


At the hospital, they were met by three gurneys. The kids looked at one another with confusion.

“Boy,” he muttered to Rodriguez. “They got no clue. They’re really out of it, aren’t they?”

“Shit,” Rodriguez spat. “You would be too if you been through what they have. Shot out of the sky, have to swim in that fucking cold water and then meet up with Wilmington’s finest who want to shoot them? Yeah. Average day.”

“Guess you’re right,” he nodded. Stepping forward to the one who seemed more dominant of the three, he tried to indicate that he should climb up. The kids only stared at him in confusion. “Come on,” he gave up. “Just follow me.”

While Sergeant York explained the circumstances to the doctor, the strange procession wound its way through the corridors. They stopped at a doorway. One of the porters who had pushed the empty gurneys back opened it and stood back. Sergeant York gave the universal signal for ‘go on in.’

Surprisingly, it was not the one who seemed like a leader who went first. It was the other boy. Only then did the leader stepped in. What happened next was a complete surprise. The boy screamed. It had been the first sound any of them had made. The porters grabbed him, to calm him, but this made it worse. The boy started to fight back. He was kicking and screaming while his two companions watched in a mixture of horror and confusion. York and Rodriguez went in to help, amazed at the apparent strength of the young boy. The doctor followed, quickly pushing a needle into an exposed part of the boy’s arm. He continued to kick, he continued to fight, but he slowly started to calm down as the sedative kicked in. His screams faded with his resistance. At last, the boy was asleep. Shaking his head, Sergeant York looked around the room and wondered what could have possibly triggered his panic attack. It was just a room. A clean, sterile, white, hospital room.


* * *


He flinched when his senses returned. Expecting - and so very afraid that he would see white when he opened his eyes, he was relieved to see a soft, orange color. He was lying on a bed. A small bandage was stuck to the back of his hand and another by the crook of his arm. There was a strange taste in his mouth.

“You’re okay,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah,” Zan looked up and saw Rath sitting on the bed by his feet. “Where’s Lonnie?”

“Here,” he sensed her to his left. She was sitting in a chair and rose when he acknowledged her.

“Where are we?” Zan looked around the small room.

“Not sure,” Rath looked with him. “After they stuck us with their needles and stuff, they took pictures of our bodies and that. Then they brought us here.”

“Needles?” Zan frowned.

“I’m not sure, but I got the feeling that they were just making sure we were okay.”

“Did they test our blood?”

“I’m pretty sure they did,” Rath nodded. “They filled up these little bottles and stuck labels to them. Then they took them away.”

“This is not good,” he started rocking on the bed.

“How come?” Vilandra frowned.

“Our blood is different to theirs,” he frowned.

“How do you know that?” Rath looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“I… I don’t know,” Zan shook is head. “I… I just do.”

“We’re different, aren’t we,”[/i] Rath seemed quiet.

Zan nodded and they fell into a silence. They all felt the truth.

“We have to be careful,” Rath warned. “We can’t get ourselves noticed. Look how those others reacted to us. These people. They want to harm us. Because we are different. We cannot allow that. We have to get back to our own kind.”

“But…” Vilandra frowned. “How do we do that? We don’t even know who our own kind are. We don’t know where they are.”

“We’ll find them,” Rath looked up at her. “I promise. In the meantime, we stick together. We trust no one. Now, when they find out about us… we have to be ready to run.”

They fell silent again.

“Zan?” Vilandra sat beside him on the bed. “What was that? When they took you in there. Into that room.”

“I…” Zan’s brow knitted in confusion. “I really don’t know. I was so scared. So very, very scared. All that white.”

The door flew open, making them all jump. An orderly breezed in.

“You’ll be pleased to know,” he grinned at them. “You’re all fit. No broken bones, no after effects from being in the water. Not so much as a bruise or a scratch. Perfectly normal. Soon as Social Services have fixed you up a place to go, you’re free to leave.”

The three stared at each other in confusion. How could they be normal? They just knew that they were different. And how could they now understand the man speaking to them in that funny language that everyone had been speaking.


* * *


It was from a deep sleep that the ringing phone awoke him. He reached for it twice before his hand made contact.

“Benitez,” he mumbled into the handset.

“We’ve got trouble,” the caller’s voice woke him up. “Big trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Benitez rubbed the grit from his eyes, awake and alert now. He clearly knew the voice. “What kind of trouble?”

“One of the Special Officer’s shot down a private plane. There’s no sign of the pilot, or any other adults, but three kids came crawling from the ocean.”

“But I deal with Social Security,” Benitez frowned. “Adoption applications and stuff. What do you want me to do about it? Do you already have homes lined up or something?”

“This isn’t one of our adoption scams,” the voice was agitated. “This is trouble. We’re likely to be slapped with a law suit and we both know that we haven’t hidden the trail of that money yet. If we get audited…”

“What do you want me to do?” Benitez felt his neck becoming exposed.

“Whatever happens, don’t let those kids leave the hospital. The Officer thinks they might be alien, but he’s a nut case. It would make it easier if they were, cause there would be no lawsuit and we would have a bona fide alien. Get them tested, just in case.”

“And when we find that they are human?”

“Poor kids, they were so traumatized, they just upped and ran away.”

Runaways, they would be called. Three shallow graves in reality. He could smell a conspiracy from miles away. And he was neck deep in this one. He wished that he had never started accepting those bribes to place orphans with families who would never have qualified.

“Okay. Leave it with me.”

* * *


The hour was early; the sun having only just started to rise. Even though the Social Security offices should have been locked up, with only the single security guard by the front desk watching nighttime television, this morning, the offices were opened and half a dozen people were already busy in the brightly-lit building. The security guard dragged his eyes from the box and watched the smartly dressed, middle aged businessman step through the glass front door.

“Mr. Lucas to see Mr. Benitez,” the man placed his briefcase on the table.

“You have an appointment?” the guard started to scan the list of visitors.

“No,” Lucas smiled, handing over an official looking document. “I have this, instead.”

The guard nodded and pushed the case through the X-Ray machine, checking the contents to make sure that nothing contraband was being smuggled through.

“Can you just put your hand on that pad please, Mr. Lucas?” the Guard asked, pointing a flat panel beside him.

“What’s this for?” Mr. Lucas placed his hand on it as instructed.

“It’s an X-Ray, too,” the guard nodded that he had passed. “Checking your bone structure. Apparently, aliens are different. Ever since that invasion a few days ago…”

“Fascinating,” the man rolled his eyes. “Mr. Benitez’s office?

“Straight down that corridor,” he indicated. “Third on the right. Number 105.”

As Mr. Lucas followed the directions, the guard picked up the phone.

“Mr. Benitez? Front desk. There’s a Mr. Lucas on his way to see you. He’s a lawyer. I can tell them a mile away.”


* * *


Mr. Benitez met his caller at the door. He was a tall man, slim, with graying patches on the sides of his sandy brown hair. He wore dark rimmed spectacles and his necktie was loose around the unbuttoned collar. He also seemed very nervous.

“Mr. Lucas,” he extended his hand. “I’m kind of busy right now. An emergency came up last night, so if you could leave your card, I’ll…”

“I’m here regarding last night’s… emergency, Mr. Benitez,” Mr. Lucas held out his card anyway.

The social worker read the inscription. G. Lucas, Attorney at Law. He swallowed hard.

“So…” he looked up at the lawyer. He stepped back into his office and opened his door wider. “You wanna come in?”

“Thank you,” the lawyer, a short man with only two patches of hair above his ears.

He walked into the room and sat down uninvited in front of the other man’s desk. Mr. Benitez cocked an eyebrow and went to his own chair, closing the file to hide the documents he was preparing.

“So how can I help you, Mr. Lucas?”

“I’ll come straight to the point,” Mr. Lucas opened his case on his knees and pulled out some papers. “I am the legal representative of Mr. and Mrs. David Skye, as well as for Mr. and Mrs. Dieter Ollow. Last night, my clients were on their way from Raleigh, to an emergency meeting in Tampa, Florida. Approved by the FAA, they were flying in a Cessna Stationair, along with their three children, Luke, Leia and Hans, whom they were taking on holiday to stay with Mr. Skye’s parents. The Cessna never arrived in Tampa, Mr. Benitez. I have every belief that that Cessna shot down last night by elements of the Special Police force in Wilmington was that of my clients.”

Mr. Benitez sat back in the chair and drew a deep breath. Exhaling, he leaned forward.

“I’m sorry to hear about the disappearance of your client, Mr. Lucas, but I fail to see why you have come to me with this information. I have nothing to do with the Special Police force, and neither am I a missing persons bureau.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” the lawyer handed two typed forms. “I have come to take custodianship of the three children you have over at the hospital.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Until I get an official report about exactly what was shot down over Wilmington, I’m afraid that I can hardly discuss it. I have had no confirmation of casualties and so I can neither confirm nor deny that anyone involved was your clients.”

Mr. Lucas looked at the man opposite him and glanced at his brief case.

“Nevertheless, you have the three children in the hospital that I would like transferred to my care. Effective immediately.”

“You can’t do that!” Mr. Benitez rose to his feet.

“Yes, I can,” the lawyer nodded over the top of his opened briefcase. “I have here the documentation that proves that in the event of the children being left alone, they become the wards of Mr. Allan Skye, in Raleigh.”

“I’m not just turning these kids over to you,” Benitez shook his head. “Not just like that.”

“Why not, Mr. Benitez?” Lucas reached into his case again. “I have everything I need to prove my case. Documents, photographs, identification. What more do you want?”

“I can’t hand them over, because…” his mind searched. “Because they are being investigated.”

“Investigated?” Lucas looked up with a frown. “I see. Have they been offered legal council? Have they been Mirandized? If so, has it been done in front of legal representation? Cause I know that it wasn’t done in front of their parents. Mr. Benitez, I don’t know how many laws may have been broken right there. And of what crime could the Wilmington authorities charge victims of plane crashes? Surviving without a license?”

“They might be aliens, Mr. Lucas,” Benitez groaned. “Under the current circumstances… They might be alien invaders. And we have martial law right now.”

“Uh huh,” Lucas nodded. “And aliens are going to drop three of their storm troopers disguised as teenagers into the sea to do what, exactly? Capture Wilmington? Just the three of them?” He stopped speaking for a moment. He looked up sharply. “Is that what is happening to them at your hospital?” Lucas frowned. “Are you conducting illegal medical tests on my clients, Mr. Benitez?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, they’re… they were traumatized. Falling into shock. They needed urgent medical attention. That’s all. I promise.”

“Then you will release them, any biological samples taken and the results of any medical tests performed on my clients, to me.”

“We can’t just let them go,” he shook his head. “Not until I receive the proper authorization from my superiors. Not till the doctor says they’re okay.”

“Then I will sign the necessary waivers for their medical discharge.”

“No,” sweat was rolling down Benitez’s forehead. “I refuse to permit that. I have to consider their welfare.”

“Then you leave me no alternative.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cell phone. “I am placing a call to a Supreme Court judge so that I can start legal proceeding against the Borough of Wilmington for the murder of my clients, the attempted murder of my clients’ children, as well as the kidnapping and illegal incarceration of minors. And as I have produced legal documents validated in a North Carolina Court of Law as well as all the supporting identification, proving that I am, pro temp, legal custodian of those three children, you are in contempt of court. That means that you, Mr. Benitez, will be charged with the false imprisonment of minors. You will be held personally responsible. Personally.”

Benitez didn’t even have to think.

“I’ll take you to the kids.”

* * *

Hi everyone,

Well... I really hope my confusion I have caused is a good confusion. Things will start to become a little more clear, at least in terms of Mr Lucas, and the Wilmington fiasco. Also, things should be vrightening up for you in terms of storyline.

I really didnlt want to leave this clue, but it seems like I might have to. Remember the Roswell Canon, and think about what I did in Part 1.


omwf - There really is no need to worry Part 2. At least, not THOSE kind of worries.

AJK001 - Well, I have only PLANNED a 3 parter, but mayber while I'm writing Part 3, Part 4 will come along.

Ellie - What would Max be without his Liz? Luke?

Venus_star2.com - I love how everyone mistrusts any new character I introduce.

roswellluver - Thank you.

lazza - Yes, 'Zan' (Luke) has some of Max's memories. But fear not. Just enjoy the ride.

BehrObsession - Dang! YOu know, I REALLY would like to hear some of these theories.

frenchkiss70 - I hope the resoning behind the 'plot' surrounding the threesome is a little clearer. Basically, they stumbled into the middle of an adoption scam and there is some unlaundered money left lying around.

aurorasky - Well... the kids have been handed over to Mr Lucas so id he is up to no good, then they are screwed.

roswell3053 - Well... I hope that the grey matter starts working soon.

LTL - Files sent. Glad to see you back

youre my dreamgirl - And here it is

smokie - Oh my! Well... I hope I don;t dissappoint.

mareli - Now... IF Luke is Max and he sees Liz, what do you think his reaction will be?

su-lyn - Thank you

tequathisy - Well... I hope that not being able to work things out doesn't spoil the fun.

jbcna - Oh yes. I like to use the available space. Kind of a throwback to BRH.

cherie - Well... Glad you liked the StarWars humor. It seemed appropriate. LOL

Roswelllostcause - Blanks being papered over tonight. So surprise surprise. You got your wish.

Michelle in Yonkers - Are we sure he is a protector? Maybe he has an ulterior motive? I always TRY to post weekly. I know how frustratin it can be when chapters seem to take forever to come out.

polar vixen - Nice to see you again And glad your still enjoying. So many questions - and I will answere 'some' tonight.

dreamerfiend - Ah. Is anyone who they say they are?

Scottie - Thank you. I do try to find out as much as I can about where my stories are based, but accents... I have to imagone from previous contacts with Americans. I'm so glad that it works. I mean, can you imagine Max saying "I say, chaps. Jolly good show, what?"

NorfanofMaxandLiz - Well... Like I said. As long as I can come up with a new idea that hasn;t been done before, then I will write. If not... sorry. But this story has ages to go yet and there's the new one already in progress in between chapters (will start posting soon) So fear not.

BehrObsession - Sorry. Been a bit busy tonight.


Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 4


In the huge car that they would later learn was called a limousine, Mr. Lucas accompanied them on a journey through the remainder of the night. When he and the nervous looking man arrived at the hospital and took custody of them, the two boys were not too sure about going with him. The girl, however, had no doubts. And anyone who would help get her brother away from the rooms that so terrified him could only be a friend.

"Let that be a lesson to you," Mr. Lucas watched the group huddled together on the back seat of the Limo. Even now, their eyes showed suspicion. "You can't trust everyone you meet. And in your case, there are very few that you 'can' trust. Everyone has their own angle. They all want something from you."

His monologue was interrupted by the ringing sound coming from his pocket.

"Lucas," he spoke into his cell phone. "Yes. Yeah, I've got them. I'm taking them there now. There was some trouble, but nothing I couldn't handle. No, no, it seems that they thought one of the 'Special Officers' shot the plane down instead of it being a 'tragic' accident. He took some pot shots at it or something. I have my suspicions that someone big was trying to cover up a potential lawsuit. I think that an audit of their books that will happen with such a case might just uncover that there has been some misappropriation of funds on a grand scale. No, don't worry. I'll make sure that the FAA hears an appropriate whisper and let them figure out that it was an accident after all. I mean, come on. How could any of those bozos be that good a shot? No one will come looking for the kids." He paused, listening to the other side of the conversation. "Well, it's your money, and God knows, tonight's pantomime has cost you a fortune. Are you sure that's the wisest way to cover up your smuggling three illegal immigrants was to stage a plane crash? I mean, it was only a few days ago that New Mexico woke up to a freaking alien occupation. We could have easily smuggled them down from Canada. No sir. I understand sir. Yes sir. Good night sir."

He hung up and slid his phone back into his jacket pocket.

"That was your benefactor," he looked at the kids who were staring at him. "I guess you could say that he's your boss, 'cause he's sure as hell going to expect payback, big time. He's the guy who spent a whole truck load of money to set up this whole shooting match just to get you into the country with bona fide identities. So congratulations. You've just got U.S. Citizenship."

He looked out the window and took a deep breath. He idly wondered if the whole deal about tonight's performance had anything to do with the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, even though she was only fourteen. It wouldn't have been the first time that someone with money had bought themselves an under age slave. But where did the boys fit in? Even though they looked disoriented, neither looked like they would take any shit from anyone, and both looked as though they would protect the girl to the death. Still, it wasn't his concern, and neither was it his money. He looked back at them.

"I don't know what country you come from, and in fact, I don't even want to know, but I do know that you can understand English. That you can understand me. My client assures me that because of your... intelligence, you will pick up our written and spoken language in a matter of weeks. It's October now, school's been back for over a month. It'll be Christmas soon. We have you enrolled to start in the New Year. In January. So you guys are going to have to work hard to fit in."

He reached into his case and pulled out a series of photographs, handing them to the kids.

"That's Mr. Allan Skye, and the lady is his wife. Debra. Ostensibly, they are your Aunt and your Uncle, who you haven't seen in ages, so you don't have to try to memorize too many details about them. In fact, if at anytime, you are at a loss about something you 'should' know, blame your temporary amnesia on the accident. Now these people are really nice, okay? So don't go giving them any trouble. They know you're not really related, but they'll treat you as though they are all the same. They've always wanted kids, but life was never smiling on them." A look of pity crossed his face. "Debra has a few... internal troubles so she can't have any children. Oh, and Luke. For some reason, I'm to tell you, don't even think about it. What ever that means."

He waited until he was sure that Luke had understood, even if he himself did not.

"When they were young enough, their personal circumstances did not allow them the luxury of considering an adoption. By the time their circumstances had improved, they were considered too old. So this is like a god-send to them, even if you are fourteen year olds and not the babies they wanted. But they'll give you a good home. Until it's time for you to leave."

He waited for the kids to finish studying the photographs before handing them a picture of a large townhouse.

"This is where you will be living. Four twenty six Lakeridge Avenue. The Skye family, who were your parents and are believed to have died in the crash, have left everything in trust, so there will be no mansions and no fast cars, I'm afraid. Just two very kind people treating you like relatives. Look upon them as your guardians. As far as you are concerned, your dead parents were very real, but just so that you know, they never existed. Well, they did. But only on paper. My client said something about not taking the risk that lightening could strike twice."

He shrugged, showing he had no idea what that meant.


"Now, I don't know what names you are used to going by, but take a tip. Forget them. From here on in, you have never heard those names, got it? Erase them from your memory. From now on, you are Luke Skye, Leia Skye and Hans Ollow. Yeah, corny names, I know. But hey, I didn't pick em. If anyone laughs at you, just glare at them. You guys have just the right kind of eyes to make anyone back down. So intense!"

He stopped talking to allow them to absorb everything.

"There's no point in trying to find out who my client... your benefactor is. Your guardians don't know. I don't know. He kinda likes to keep himself to himself. His dealings with me are strictly through e-mails for the mundane stuff and couriers for the stuff of a more... sensitive or private nature. I will bring you instructions from time to time, delivered to me by courier, and I certainly wouldn't advise ever trying to find out his whereabouts through them. Somehow, I don't think this guy wants you to find him. Let's see... what else? Oh yes. Here are your first set of instructions." He handed them each a sealed envelope. "As soon as you can read, you're supposed to open them."

The limousine pulled up outside the large house that they had seen in the photographs. As soon as they had parked up, a middle-aged couple stepped out through the door and watched. The man had his arm around the woman's shoulder

"Okay, we're here," he nodded at the Skye's. "Stay out of trouble, work hard, and you'll blend right in. I would ask you if you had any questions, but I know that you can't speak yet. So all that's left to say is..." he opened the door. "Welcome to America."


* * *


They sat at the dining table, the family of five. At the head of the table, Mr. Allan Skye stood poised above the large roast turkey that his wife had prepared. He was a tall man, and slim. His hair was already gray and he wore a large pair of aviator style spectacles. He had never truly been a man who enjoyed celebrating these bygone traditions, but this Thanksgiving, he had much to be thankful for. His life had been hard. Never the man who found academia easy, he never quite rose above middle management in his life. When he lost his job during the Reagan years, the only work he could find after that was stacking shelves at the local supermarket. Although he and his wife would have desperately loved children to bless their marriage, the truth was that it was a hidden blessing that Debra could not conceive. They could never have afforded to raise them how they would have wished.

All that changed when he found the lawyer, Mr. Lucas, waiting for him outside of the Wal-Mart where Allan had just finished his late shift. At first, Allan had thought he was there to repossess his aging Honda Civic. With the debts that were piling up around him, it had become more and more likely that the Civic would be his next home. He didn't want to lose that.

"Mr. Skye?" the lawyer asked.

"Look," Allan's stomach seemed to have gone AWOL. "If it's about the car repayment, I get paid on Friday."

"I'm not here about the car, Mr. Skye," the man smiled. "My name is Mr. Lucas and I'm a lawyer. My client has authorized me to offer you a once in a lifetime deal."

Allan had stared at him for a moment.

"What kind of deal?" his eyes narrowed. "Is this where you ask me to sign over my soul or something?" He started to look around. "Where are the cameras?"

"This is no joke, Mr. Skye," Lucas shook his head. "And you won't be signing over your soul. Like I said, I have been authorized to place you and your good wife in a big house, fully paid for, give you a new car and a new, well paid job that is easily within your capabilities."

"Just what do I have to do to get all this?" he twisted his head in suspicion. "There's no such thing as a free lunch. What laws have I gotta break?"

"I assure you, Mr. Skye," the lawyer smiled again. Not the oily smile that suggested he had won some game, but a genuine smile of pleasure. "You will be breaking no laws. All we want you and your wife, Debra to do, is enjoy your life together in your new house until such a time as I bring you some children."

"Children?" he had been surprised.

"Yes," Luca nodded. "We're not sure exactly when. It could be tomorrow, it could be ten years from now. But they will come. Three of them. Two boys and a girl. And when they do come, all we want you to do is to treat them like they're your own. They will seem backward to you, but they will posses an intelligence that might astound you. Just bring them up and allow them to grow for the short time they will be with you?"

"How long will they be with us?" Allen was interested. "Not that I'm worried, you understand. It's just... my wife and I, we... And having kids in the house..."

"We can't be sure how long they will stay with you, Mr. Skye. These kids will have an important job to do. But I will make the promise that even when they have to leave, you will be an important part of their lives. They will never forget you, as long as you and Debra be yourself.

"And when they're gone? Do we have to leave the house?"

"No, Mr. Skye," the lawyer placed his hand on the man's back. "When they've gone, you keep the house, your job, everything. And who knows what else? Because my client tells me that one of the children in particular is not one to forget the people who are important to him.


* * *


Debra Skye looked around the table and watched the children eating their meal. This had been the first big dinner that she had ever cooked. She just hoped that there were more to come. With hair the color of wheat and a face full of freckles that surrounded her blue eyes, Debra was not exactly stunning, even in her youth, but neither was she plain. Neither was she one to follow fashion. But that had changed when her newly acquired niece arrived and started dragging her to the mall.

Debra was as tall as Leia, the young woman she had come to think of as her daughter. In the few months that she had become a part of her life, they had gone shopping, bought clothes and tested make-up. Leia was becoming a very beautiful young woman with a very bright future. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds whenever they embarked upon a shopping expedition, leaving the boys to the television set. Debra loved how the boys of Raleigh stopped and stared as they walked by. Leia would be a very popular girl at school, once they started,

She wished the same could be said for the two boys. Neither liked to go out much. Hans was a strange young man. Often times he would simply sit in front of the television, glued to the sports channels, or the repeated episodes of old situation comedies. Other times, he seemed to be involved in an intense conversation with the other two, making them both look uncomfortable. He didn't like strangers, and had shut himself away when Debra had invited a friend over with her son and daughter, the same age. Hans was the rebel of the bunch, never openly hostile, yet never ready to even try and settle down.

Luke was an even bigger mystery. He seldom spoke, although he was polite in the extreme, always saying please and thank you. He always seemed to be aware of other's feelings and always went last whenever taking turns was required. He seemed more concerned over the welfare of others than his. Like Hans, Luke made no effort to befriend any of the other children they had met, although he certainly didn't go out of his way to be rude, either. It was easy to mistake his quietness for some form of arrogance, but Debra could see that it was more than that. This was a terribly shy young man who had chosen to hide from his fears rather than face them. She wished that he showed a little more reaction around girls because she knew that he faced a terrible ordeal at school if they should ever suspect that he might not be inclined toward that particular persuasion. Of all the children, Debra worried about him the most. She did not think that he would amount to anything, pushed around as he was by Hans and Leia.


"I can't believe that it's almost Christmas," Allan looked up, grinning above his plate of food. "It's going to be so wonderful this year."

"What's Christmas?" Leia looked up, her eyes burning with curiosity.

The two boys copied her. All her children had a burning sense of curiosity, she noticed. They were always eager to learn something new. And they only ever had to be shown, or told once, and they had it perfectly. Their minds were so open that teaching them was so easy. Of course, some, like Hans, usually rolled his eyes after learning something, as if to say, big deal.

"Christmas is a wonderful time, honey," Allan grinned. "It's a time to exchange gifts with the people you love, it's about peace, hope... it's about families."

"Families?" Leia bounced in her seat.

"Peace?" Luke looked up, an intense desire burning in his eyes,

"Gifts?" Hans looked awkward. "We gotta buy gifts?"

"Oh, Allan," Debra shook her head with reproval. "It's about so much more than that." She turned to look at the kids. "It all started a long, long time ago," she started.

"In a galaxy far, far away," Allan joked.

Exchanging their looks, neither parent saw the faces of the three children.


* * *


"I tell you, Luke," Hans growled as he paced their bedroom. "She's getting too close. She's becoming suspicious."

"Suspicious of what, Hans?" Luke lay back on his bed with his hands folded beneath his head as a pillow. "Do you really think that our own mother is investigating us?"

"She's not our mother," Hans snapped. "Our real mother is out there, somewhere." He waved his hands in the air. "Probably over in New Mexico, waiting for us."

"We don't know that."

"We do know that she's not here."

"What's got you all riled up today?" Luke sat up. "And how come you're not downstairs watching TV?"

"She's asking too many questions," Hans sat down on his bed. "Like I said, she's getting too close."

"Why?" Luke sat up. "What's happened?"

"I was watching the 'Hogans Heroes' marathon earlier," Hans looked around. "Debra comes in and asks me outright, why I would rather be cooped up indoors watching old reruns of dreadful comedies."

"Yeah," Luke nodded. "I can see how her thinking 'Hogans Heroes' is dreadful makes her suspicious of us."

"Don't you get it? She's asking too many questions."

"Maybe it's because she can't understand why kids of our age would rather be indoors and not outside with their friends," Luke shook his head and looked through the window to the park where a pick-up game of baseball was in progress.

"We can't take the risk, Luke," Hans warned. "All it takes is for someone to hurt themselves and you go over and heal them..."

"Just because I can doesn't mean I will," Luke looked at the spot on his arm where, three weeks ago, he had cut himself with a very sharp knife in Allan's workshop.

They had been terrified because the cut was so deep, so long and there had been so much blood. Luke hand held his hand over the cut to stem the blood flow while Leia ran to get some old cloths. Quite suddenly, Luke could 'see' inside himself and instinctively knew how to knit all the tissue together again. That had really freaked them all out as it served only to emphasize their differences. When Luke had read a book about human anatomy, they had bought a microscope and had checked out their blood. They compared their results to a sample they had borrowed from Allan after he cut his finger, only to find that their blood was different. It pulsed with a kind of green energy. Wondering how this had been missed that time they had been in the hospital, they had searched high and low for anything that held traces of their blood from their early days. They found a T-shirt under Hans' bed that had a bloodstain from their first few days here. The blood looked like Allen's. Normal. Somehow, over the first few weeks, their blood had changed, and with it, came powers... abilities. They could do things. Things that the other people around them could not do.

"We need to remain unnoticed," Hans warned. "We have to stay in the background."

"Did you ever stop and consider that maybe all this hiding in the shadows, trying to go unnoticed only makes us more... visible?" Luke wondered out loud. "I mean, people know we're here. They're bound to wonder why we don't mix with them. Why we don't go out and play with them."

"We need to blend, Luke."

"So why don't we blend with the other kids?"

"We need to blend with the background. We can't get involved."

Their door opened and Leia walked in. She was wearing a pair of white jeans, a white sweater, but she was decorated with Christmas tinsel and a pair of Santa earrings.

"What do you think you are doing?" Hans hissed.

"It's Christmas," she smiled. "I'm getting involved,"


* * *


"Luke," Leia looked up from her organizer. "We could use another hand at the Senior Citizens Ball. Care to lend one?"

"Uh, thanks, Leia," Luke looked for an avenue of escape. Ever since Leia had become involved in making sure that everyone enjoyed Christmas, she had become quite scary. "But I'm kinda busy."

"Oh?" Debra looked up from the cards she was writing. "What are you doing, Luke?"

His eyes flickered one way and then the next. He was trapped.

"Uh... looks like I'm helping with the ball," he groaned.

"That's nice dear," she smiled at him.

Leia looked at Debra who winked at her. She then looked at Luke and grinned, using her forefinger to mark an invisible 'one' in the air.

"What are you doing?" Hans hissed when Debra left the kitchen.

"Planning the perfect Christmas," she looked into his face showing no concern. "Now I need you and Luke to go to Mr. Johnston's and pick up a tree. Here are the dimensions I require. Don't even think of coming back with something inferior."

"You know what I mean," Hans slapped the sheet of paper with the tree diagram on it from her fingers. "All this... exposure. You're endangering us. You're endangering the mission."

"What mission," Leia leaned over to pick up the diagram.

"Luke," he snapped. "Tell her."

"Actually," Luke looked up from his book. "I'd kind of like to know what mission, too. The only thing that the instructions Mr. Lucas gave us said was to..." he looked at the doorway and lowered his voice to a whisper. "... practice our powers and be ready. There's no mention of a mission. We don't even know what we're supposed to get ready for. It might even be Christmas. Leia getting involved doesn't affect who, or what we are."

"Sure it does," Hans growled. "It's getting in our way!" He rose from the table, his legs sending the chair crashing to the floor. "We can't afford to get caught up in their petty rituals. We have more important things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like making our way to New Mexico, where our people are waiting for us."

"How do we know they are our people, Hans?" Luke rose and walked to the chair Hans had knocked over.

"How do we know they're not?" he countered.

"Someone hid us, Hans. Hid us where no one could find us. Someone knew we were there, so if these are our people, why haven't they come to get us? I'm not sure that these people are our friends, and until I find out for sure, I'm staying clear."

"We could always go and find out," Hans narrowed his eyes as he rubbed his chin. "Maybe that's our mission?"

"Yeah, right," Luke nodded. "They're going to let some kids hike across the country and walk right through that heavily defended zone and say, 'Hey, are you guys looking for us?'"

"Are you lookin' for me?" Leia dropped her voice and imitated the old famous actor, DeNiro. "Are you lookin' for me?"

Luke started to laugh, followed by Leia. With a snarl of disgust, Hans stormed out of the room.


* * *


"I can hardly believe it," Leia squealed from, the front seat of the large Honda Pilot. "Our first day of school.

"Great," Hans snorted, staring out of the window.

Luke remained silent. His eyes fixed on Debra's head restraint.

Debra pulled up outside the gates of Sanderson High School, pulling the brake on and switching off the ignition.

"Here we are kids," she twisted in her seat. "The first day of the rest of you life."

"It's only school, Mom," Leia rolled her eyes.

She had taken to calling Debra 'Mom' almost immediately, although she still called Allan 'Uncle Al'. Hans called them 'Uncle A' and 'Aunt D' while Luke... Luke referred to them as Allan and Debra, suggesting that he saw them at least as equals. Neither adult cared as long as they were happy.

From the safety of the car, they watched the crowds of children, some smaller, others bigger poured through the gates and into the school grounds.

"It looks intimidating, but it's not," Debra gave them a smile of encouragement. "They're not so bad, and you'll soon make new friends. And you've always got each other."

Only Leia gave Debra a hug and a kiss. It wasn't 'manly' for the boys to do it and being seen by their peers was just unthinkable. She gave them a smile of encouragement instead. The three teenagers climbed from the car and stared at the throng of noisy kids. With a beep of her horn, Debra was gone, leaving them to work out the delights of High School.

"I'm off," Hans turned to leave.

Luke grabbed his arm and pulled him so that their faces were close.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to get us here," his calm voice belied his anger. "The least we can do is work at this until we're told what it is that we're supposed to do. So you will stay."

The two boys embarked upon a staring contest. At last, Hans looked away.

"Fine!" he snapped. "Just don't expect me to play the teacher's pet." Turning, he walked through the gates and disappeared into the crowd.

"Wow," Leia had her eyes opened wide. "That's the first time you've ever stood up to him." She looked around and spotted the clique of girls. Like her, they all looked immaculate, even though not one of them could have held a candle to her. "Ah," she smiled. "My public awaits."

"Where are you going?" Luke demanded, his voice just this side of panic.

"Did you really think I would ruin any chance of enhancing my rep by being seen with the shadow boy?" she looked surprised. "Duh!"

"What if I say you can't?" he demanded. "What if I stand up to you?"

"You?" Leia stopped and looked back at Luke. "Stand up to me? Luke, I'm your sister. Get real. See you later."

She turned back to the girls and waved at him over her shoulder. Luke watched as she integrated herself into their little group with ease. He gave a sigh and turned toward the school building, colliding with someone as he did so. He was bigger than himself, but not by much.

"Out of the way, doofus," the older boy grunted, as he continued on his way, followed by a posse of older boys.

School was even less appealing now that it had been earlier.

* * *

Hi everyone!

My thoughts are with anyone with friends and family caught up in the recent earthquake. Such a terrible tragedy.

I thank you all for sticking with a story that is proving a little confusing to you. Things do start settling down, and while many of your questions will remain unanswered for some time, quite afew start to get cleared up... slowly.

I just thought of a cool game. Have a guess what I will call the rest of the gang!


Ellie - How can you be curious and not guess at the outcome? I'm glad that I have succeeded in maintaining the characters. I did work hard on this.

roswellluver - Well... the direction I'm taking this is building up nicely. YOu'll love it.

Venus_star2.com - Believe it or not... For quite some time, this story will be all about enjoyment.

LTL - In orderto keep their 'loveable' identities, I had to give Rath his 'them and us' attitude.

AJK001 - There is no need for any real worry for some time

Timelord31 - Well... If Luke (Max) is 14, how old do you figure Liz will be?

tequathisy - Don't you think that their problems with moving on is because there is something (someone) missing? But you're right.

frenchkiss70 - Well... I would say that with current information, Cal being the only known protector left, it's a fair assumption that he is the mysterious benefactor. As for the alien invasion... we pick up hints here and there but I focus on this later in the story.

lazza - it seems that you are not in a minority regarding the 'just go with the flow' outlook.

omwf - Hmmm... so you think Jim knew enough about the gang to have arranged things for this eventuality? Luke, Leia and Hans emerged fromn their pods only days after Isabel, Michael and Max were killed.

aurorasky - The direction I am going will prove most enjoyable

roswell3053 - Well, here is is, Friday again.

roswck - When you say "Antar people"... do you mean the situation on Antar? Funny you should mention that...

Smac - The seal... we will look at what happened to that later on. But for right now, enjoy what I do with the gang. And as for the rest of our 'friend'... Don;t worry. They;re coming.

BehrObsession - Don't worry about understanding for now. Just enjoy the ride.

Scottie - Like I said the other week. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Michelle in Yonkers - Interesting comment about how the others treat Max. Someone else notices this, too.

jbcna - Yay! Someone understands!

behrlyliz - Ah yes indeed... hoe was it known that it would be two boys and one girl? How did they know that someone wouldn't emerge from their pod?

dreamerfiend - I worked hard to keep their former selves.



Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 5



"Is there nothing you can do?" Vilandra rolled over and reached across to Khivar, laying beside her on her bed. "Can't you talk to the other Senators? Surely this can be stopped?"

"I've tried, my love," Khivar rolled from his side onto his back, pulling the sheets with him. "I've spoken with them collectively and individually. And I've spoken with the Generals. Even General Dray."

"Dray?" Vilandra sat upright, clutching the sheet to her naked breasts. "I thought he was missing."

"As did we all," Khivar's hand slid to tease her uncovered back. "But it seems his... demise in the mountains was a ruse. Dray has been planning this for months. He knew that in his position as General of the First Battalion, he would be required to fire on civilians. He decided he would rather see the end of the monarchy rather than do that. So... he's been setting up an army to... stage this coup, knowing that one day, Deryn would do something foolish."

"My god!" Vilandra gasped. "Dray? A traitor. I can hardly believe it. Zan's going to be so disappointed."

"Vilandra," Khivar looked at her, his eyes softening. "You must leave the palace. Soon. Go to my private house. I can keep you safe against the coming storm. Something I do not believe your father, or your brother can do. I don't... I don't want to lose you in the... mess."

"Tomorrow night," Vilandra nodded. "I need to pack... and I want to say goodbye. To Zan. He's my brother, and I so love him."

"As I love you," he reached up to kiss her. "Tomorrow night, and no later."


* * *


"We have to leave, Vilandra," Zan called as he ran up the ornate staircase, taking two steps at a time. "The soldiers loyal to Father cannot guarantee our safety here anymore. Others are coming. Enemies."

"What, now?" Vilandra exclaimed as she rushed to her wardrobe. She was supposed to join Khivar this evening. "I have to pack!"

"There is no time!" he yelled at her. "Ava," he called, rushing to the other door. "Ava! We have to leave! Right now!"

"Zan," Vilandra called. "What's happened?"

"General Dray is attacking the city," Zan's voice was just below panic. "He's overwhelming the defenses."

This was too soon. Vilandra's eyes widened. Khivar had said that Dray would attack tomorrow. Not today.

"Oh my god," Ava gasped. "We're going to die, aren't we?"

"Not if I can help it," Zan growled. "Now hurry up."

"Where's Rath?" Vilandra demanded.

"Trying to stop him, but Nicholas has sent in a dozen or so small squads behind the lines. They're already in the city. They're on their way here."

"What about Daddy?" Vilandra understood. Nicholas was involved with Dray, too? Or was he trying to seize the Capitol, and Dray's thunder?

"He's already left the city with most of the soldiers loyal to him. He didn't want them to get trapped."

"He abandoned us?" she sounded outraged.

"No," Zan snapped. "Absolutely not. He sent me to rescue you."


Clutching a few items of clothing and a few possessions to their bodies, Zan hurried the two girls down the stairs and into the grand reception room. The sound of gunfire could be heard closer to the palace. Maids and servants ran around in a panic. He shouted to them, encouraging them to flee with him. Some followed Zan, while others sought hiding places.

"No!" Zan grabbed Ava's arm and called his sister as she headed for the main door. "The back way. Hurry!"

"What about Mother?" Vilandra was gasping for air. "Should we not warn her?"

The firefight out front was becoming more intense.

"Mother is not at home," Zan yelled as they charged out the door and into the garden. The gunfire ceased. He looked back for any pursuit. "I don't know where she is."

He pulled the girls through the large gardens to a small alcove hidden at the back, followed by panic stricken stragglers. A secret doorway opened up. Zan paused and looked back as he ushered the girls through, to be followed by those who chose to follow the prince. He heard the smashing of glass and looked back at the house. He saw the soldiers through the great windows as they began their rampage of looting, pillaging and other unwholesome actions that undisciplined soldiers seem to enjoy. Zan heard one of the maids scream, followed by another. He heaved a huge sigh of relief that he had got his sister and his fiancé away in time. He did feel sorry for those left behind, but they had chosen not to follow. What more could he have done?

"Be safe, Mother," he whispered.

Shaking his head with a sad frown, Zan turned after Lonnie and Ava and darted through the opening.


* * *


"General Dray," Khivar nodded as he entered the room.

"Ah, Khivar," General Dray looked up from his table over which a dozen or so maps had been spread. "All this technology and look." He waved his hand. "We still use paper maps."

"Some things never change," Khivar shrugged.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I'm wondering what your plans are?" Khivar glanced through the windows of the Palace room that now served as Dray's headquarters at the soldiers outside, counting their booty from their day's looting. "I mean, now that you are in control of the Capitol."

"My plans," Dray smiled. "Are to find Deryn's forces, attack them, and defeat them."

"And what of Traydn and Nickolas?"

"My colleagues are great Generals, Khivar," Dray shrugged. "I expect that their plans are pretty much the same thing."

"And then?"

"And then, we will make plans for the peace."

"But isn't this all a little... uncoordinated?" Khivar's eyes narrowed. "I mean, King Deryn is the overall commander of his forces, and they therefore will act as one. We also need to do the same. We need an overlord."

"Traydn and Nickolas will never dance to another man's tune. Neither will I. Trust me, Khivar. If there was a way to make them bend to my will, I would take it."

"Whoever holds the Capitol," Khivar shrugged, "holds the Senate."

"And I hold the Capitol," Dray's eyes narrowed. "In spite of Nicholas's best efforts."


* * *


King Deryn, wearing his full Battle Armor, stood by the large promontory, next to the huge tank, and watched as the two armies squared up to one another. The war had been difficult, with both sides avoiding an all out confrontation until they were ready. The many small skirmishes that had broken out as small units had met trying to reach their chosen sides gave no indication as to who was the better prepared. Apart from the surprise assault that General Dray led against the poorly defended Capitol six months ago, this was the first major battle.

"Is Colonel Rumz in position?" Deryn turned to his aide.

"Nearly, sire," the aide saluted.

"Very well, then," he looked back at the long-range howitzers. "Give them the signal."

The howitzers started to spit out their deadly projectiles, hurling explosive bolts of energy through the air, hoping to crash down in the midst of the enemy forces. At once, the enemy's own guns erupted, lighting up the sky like a supernova.

"Give the order to advance," he shouted above the roar.


Down below, amid the rocks and trees, soldiers started to move in the well rehearsed tactics that both sides had learned together. While one squad laid down a carpet of fire, another advanced, hoping that the enemy kept their heads down. Between the pockets of men that advanced upon one another, tanks hovered just above the terrain, belching forth their own additions to the carnage. With both sides evenly matched, with regards to weapons, training and bravery, the battle fought itself to a standstill. They had even worn the same uniforms. The only way to tell friend from foe was by the sash they wore, tied around their midriff. The King's men wore red, while the Senatists wore black. Away from the hell that was visited upon Antar's plain, Colonel Rumz sat amid a collection of boulders.

"Go," came the single command over the radio.

He didn't shout, or yell. Colonel Rumz stood up and waved his hand in a forward motion. From around him, scores of soldiers, supported by their tanks emerged, wearing black sashes. Only as they reached the Battle lines did they pull these off to reveal red. They fell upon the enemy's flank like a scythe through ripened wheat. They fell just as fast, too. Panic spread throughout the Senatists and as the sun started to dip below the distant mountains, they had fled the field in total disarray.

"We have won, sire," the aide grinned. "Rumz's deception worked. The day is ours."

"And that is not a trick that will work as well again," Deryn grunted. "And one that we will do well to take precautions against, ourselves."

"But the point remains, sire," he continued. "We have won, and that bodes well for the future, I think."


* * *

Hi everyone,

I hope that all of my readers and their friends and families in the path of yet another Hurricane will remaine safe and sound. My thoughts will be with you.

Well, you all thought you would escape the continuing History, huh? This is important as certain things - the sending of the Pods to Earth notwithstanding - you need to learn.

For those who remain confused about the timeframe, this story is following from Max and the gang's Death and New Mexico is under Alien occupation.


BehrObsession - Yes. It sure looks like Deryn was considering his position only, and trusting Zan to rescue the others. Of course, maybe this is just an idication of how highly he trusts his son.

Frenchkiss70 - He HE He. Yes. Testing your patiance. I mean, without last weeks chapter, you would have read this chapter then.

AJK001 - Another step along the route for this story. All should become a little more clear tonight.

Ellie - Yes, sadly Vilandra really did have something with(for) Khivar. But just how far will she go?

lazza - No, so far, Zan and Ava are still unmarried. But for how much longer? And Lonnie is n ot so much 'working' for the enemy as sleeping with him.

behrlyliz - Well... the patiance will help but you should really just sit back and enjoy this for now.

Timelord31 - Thank you.

roswelluver - Well... was that ever in doubt?

omwf - Well... actually, you already should know one name. The rest, however... no. nothing to do with Star Wars.

cherie - I think you are correct. Vilandra is more than likely being used.

roswell3053 - Well... slowly but surely, things will become clear to you all.

smokie - While it would be easy to claim Deryn is self centered etc, but maybe things are not wuite as they seem.

Roswelllostcause - Yeah. Pretty obvious that the threesome was Max etc. And things on Antar are sure rough right now.

Scottie - In times of war, command and structure often breaks down... and who knows what Deryn is thinking? As for the Mother... well, I'm sure she is safe, as she has that pivotal message to create and send.

NorafanofMaxandLiz - Well, at least, they're safe for now. Clues will be hard to come by for a while because I am concentrating on a uniques aspect of this story. But we will check in on the antics in Antar from time to time.

dreamerfiend - When I dip into the Antar situation, we are going back in time to Antar before Zan and the gang were sent as Pods to Earth. Luke, Leia and Hans are now walking around after Max and co's death. So time has moved on. Okay?

Right...

I hope you will love this chapter... hope it raises some hopes for what is coming.


Red Shift


Part 2


Chapter 6


"You seem to spend a lot of time in here," Hans looked down on Luke who was lying on his bed, reading a book on science.

"You have something better to do?" Luke raised an eyebrow.

"We could go out and practice our powers again," Hans urged. "Our instructions did say to practice them, you know."

"I know," Luke closed the book and sat up. "And believe it or not, I have got about as far as I can with them. You, on the other hand..."

"Okay, so I don't have as much control as you or Leia..." Hans started pacing.

"As much?" he raised both eyebrows. "Try none at all."

"So I need more practice!"

"No, you need to calm down," Luke sighed. "It's not going to happen overnight, okay? And whoever is in New Mexico won't be leaving without us, whether they're friendly or not."

"How do you know that?" Hans gave Luke a suspicious stare.

"Because there has to be a reason that we emerged from our pods a few days after they had established their base down here," he laid back on the bed. "They want something, Hans. And whatever it is... it's connected to us. They need us and that's why they're here."

"So we should go and find out," Hans sat on Luke's bed. Luke could sense Hans' urgency. "Spring Break starts this weekend. We could use that time to travel to the area around New Mexico. You know, do a little reconnaissance. Find out what we're up against. Maybe we can find out if they're friendly or not."

"No," Luke shook his head.

"What do you mean, no?" Hans demanded. "This doesn't affect only you, you know. Leia and I are involved, too. We have a say in this."

"We wait," Luke shook his head.

"Who ever decided that you were our leader?" Hans glared at Luke.

"No one decided," Luke pushed his hands though his hair, leaving his palms over his eyes. Butting heads with Hans gave him headaches. "But I just know that we're supposed to wait. Look at you, Hans. You can't control your emotions, let alone your powers. What good do you think you would do us if we ran into trouble? We're just not ready yet."

"I say we go. And if Leia agrees, we go."

"You know what? Go. You're so keen on going, then I won't stop you."

"So it's agreed," Hans started to smile. "We'll head on over to..."

"No," Luke shook his head. "You. You'll head on over to..."

"You're coming too," Hans took a belligerent stance. "Even if I have to..."

"Have to what, Hans?" Luke cocked an eye. "Are you sure you want to test your powers against mine?"

"I can whip your ass, human style."

"But you can't drag me to New Mexico. That's called abduction, and I really don't think you want to end up being arrested, right? Now go blow up some more rocks or something."

Leia's entrance interrupted their standoff. She waltzed into the room wearing a tight pair of black jeans and a pale pink top. There was an atmosphere of Channel surrounding her.

"Have you guys seen my curling iron?"

Their differences forgotten, Luke and Hans stared at Leia.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Hans demanded.

"Cause I have a date," Leia smiled.

"Tonight?" Luke's eyes boggled. "On a school night?"

"Uh huh," she nodded, looking around the room to see her iron.

"And Allan's okay with this?"

"Uncle Al's fine," she confirmed.

"Who..." Hans narrowed is eyes. "Who are you going on a date with?"

"Martin Hennesy," Leia was disappointed that she couldn't see them anywhere.

"Isn't he in the year above us?" Luke frowned. "I mean, Leia..."

"It's fine, Luke," she gave him a cool smile. "There's a whole group of us going, and you know damn well that I can look after myself."

"What do you think you're doing, Leia?" Hans gaped. "He's a damned human!"

"What's your point?" she looked amazed. "Look, I want to feel like I'm normal, okay? And if that means I have to go on dates with some of the guys around here, I might as well go out with guys I like, okay? What? Did you think I was going to hang around and wait for you to ask me out? Please. Even if I didn't consider you to be my brother... I mean, look at you. This?" she pointed to herself and then at Hans. "With that? Nuh uh."

Luke started to chuckle.

"And you're just as bad," she growled at him. "Are you even aware that half the females at school want to go out on dates with you?"

"Of course I'm aware," Luke frowned. "What of it?"

"Well, surely, 'one' of them must have caught your eye. I mean, you're not gay or anything." She gave a mock frown, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Are you?"

"Course not," Luke showed his disgust. "And to answer, no. Not one has caught my eye. I can honestly say that I have yet to meet the girl who can raise more than a passing interest."

"Who says you have to have more than a passing interest?" her eyes narrowed. She looked him up and down. "It's just a date. Why don't you get off your sorry butt and get out there and live a little. See what life has to offer. See what those girls have to offer. Cause let me tell you, bro. From what I hear in the girl's rooms, there's more than one willing to offer you everything!"

She started to laugh at him. Hans, grateful that he was not a victim of that particular outburst started to laugh with her. With a look of horror, Luke rose from his bed and retreated from his own room.


"Oh, that was too funny," Leia smirked. "The look on his face." She stopped laughing. "I wish he would go out on a date though," she sighed. "It would do him good."

"What?" Hans roared. "It's bad enough that you're going out with some... guy! And then you're suggesting Luke does too? It's not safe! What if they find out?"

"It's harmless," Leia rolled her eyes. "I'm not suggesting that he gets himself into a relationship and, like, tells her our secrets or anything. Just go out with a girl once in a while. Something that you might even enjoy. It would just be a date, Hans. A quick kiss and if he's really lucky, a grope or two." She paused. "And no. No one gets so lucky with me so zip it."

"Uh huh," he glared at her. "And what if it leads to something more, huh? What if Luke's luck takes him further than you think? Are you happy with him sowing his oats and then having to hang around and wait for the harvest? Or what if our shy, sensitive Luke falls in love? What if he meets someone who he 'does' want to tell the truth? Could you handle that?"

"Luke?" Leia laughed. "Fall in love? He could never do anything so bold. The guy's afraid of his own shadow."

A knock at the door ended their discussion. Debra entered the room.

"Hey kids," she smiled, looking around. "Where's Luke?"

"Probably downstairs, Mom," Leia smiled.

"What's up Aunt D?"

"Well, your Dad just got off the phone with his office. It seems they need him for another trip. They're sending him to Tampa in Florida next week."

"Oh," they both shrugged, wondering why this would affect them. Allen had often gone on short business trips.

"It's just that we both come from there," she smiled. "A little place called Siesta Key, just to the south, about seventy miles away. Our parents live there."

"Uh huh," Hans nodded, waiting for the point to arrive.

"Well, seeing as its Spring Break, we thought... we thought we'd take a family vacation. To Florida. We thought we'd stay with my parents. And of course, you can meet Allan's."

"Oh, Mom," Leia gushed. "That would be so cool!"

"Terrific," Hans groaned. New Mexico never seemed so far away.

* * *


Like any other family setting off on their vacation, they sat in the cool confines of the Raleigh Durham International Airport. The three young teenagers sat with their noses pressed against the glass as they watched the multitude of varicolored aircraft jetting off for places far and wide. Behind them, their guardians watched on with smiles plastered on their faces. Yes, both Allan and Debra often wished that these... miracles were their own, but they had grown t o love them none the less.

"They'll have a ball," Debra nodded as she smiled at Allan.

"Only if we can pry Hans from the TV set," Allan smirked. "And make sure that Luke doesn't hide in his room all day."

"It's a good thing that I've taken precautions, then," Debra grinned.

"Precautions?" Allan peered at his wife. "Debra, just what are you up to?"

"You remember how small our house is, right?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Sure," he nodded. "Bungalow... three bedrooms... one which is in the attic, living room, and kitchen. And one bathroom. I still say we should have taken advantage of my parent's offer to help out."

"But then, Luke would have his own room to hide in," Debra chuckled. "But if we all stay at my folks', then he and Hans will be sleeping on the back porch. Can't hide in there all day."

"The back porch?" he frowned.

"Dad says it's all fixed up," Debra smiled. "Screens on the windows, curtains... he's bought two beds... Dad says that it's every bit as comfortable as any of the bedrooms. And like I said, Luke can't hide there 'cause it's in use all day."

"But what about Hans?"

"Dad's taken out the TV," she grinned. "For one whole week, the house will be a TV free zone."

"Woo hoo!" Allan punched the air grinning. "The boys are going to have fun if it kills them." He looked across to his... daughter. "And I just know she's going to have a blast."

"Are you kidding?" Debra started to giggle. "She's dying to hone her flirting skills on all those older guys."

"Just as long as..." his brows knitted with worry.

"I think Luke and Hans will keep them in line," she winked. "You've seen how protective they are of her."

"God," Allan shook his head. "I wonder if Siesta Key will ever be the same again?"


* * *

"Delta Airlines, flight six four two one to Tampa, Florida, now boarding gate 43," the young ladies voiced announced over the airport's intercom system. "Please gather all your personal belongings and make way to the gate with your boarding pass ready. Thank you."

"Whose idea was this?" Hans growled as he looked up at the departures board above them. "Look. There's a flight to Midland, in Texas. That's just up the road from New Mexico."

"So?" Luke used his shoulder to nudge him along. "We're going to Tampa."

"What answers are we going to find there?" Hans demanded.

"How much sun block we need to use?" Leia peered over the top of her sunglasses. "I promise you, Hans. You screw up my vacation and I will personally make your life a living hell." She hurried over to join Allan and Debra.

"How can you just sit there and play happy families?" Hans demanded. "Acting like you don't even care? Like you don't want answers."

"I want answers," Luke narrowed his eyes. "But I want them found in such a way that I know they're the right answers and not the ones were fed 'cause we're so damned impatient to find them, we can't see who our enemies are."

"You still think those guys in New Mexico are our enemies," Hans shook his head in disgust. "They come from another planet, Luke. They're different to the people around us. So are we. What more proof do you need?"

"Just relax, Hans," Luke nodded at him. "New Mexico isn't going anywhere. And neither are those aliens."

"Aliens," Hans snorted. "To us, they're probably our family. How can they be aliens?"

"You know, sometimes bro?" Luke sighed. "You're completely alien to me."


* * *


From the back of the large sedan they had hired, the three teenagers watched Florida pass them by as they drove south, following the signs for Sarasota. As Debra had explained, Siesta Key was a long thin Island just off the coast.

"So what's there to do?" Hans asked, still sulking that they weren't heading west.

"Oh, gosh," Allan laughed. "What isn't there to do? Tennis, golf, sailing, fishing..."

"Beaches," Debra added.

"Hot guys?" Leia's eyes lit up.

"The hottest," Debra turned and whispered with a wink.

"I heard that," Allan grinned at his wife. "And in the interests of fair play, I have to say, guys, the girls around here are something else. Blonde, buxom and totally...."

"Bimbos?" Leia smirked.

"Finest kind," Allan winked, earning himself a slap on his arm from Debra.

"Is anyone else grossed out by this conversation?" Leia screwed her face up.

"We're just teasing," Allan started to laugh. "I was never one of the beautiful people. Debra was... well, she was beautiful..." He smiled at her. "But she was never really part of that scene. She was too nice."

Debra smiled back, reaching out and placing a hand over Allan's, on the steering wheel.

"Aaaaaw," Leia smiled.

Hans rolled his eyes while Luke continued to stare out of the window.

"Seriously, though," Debra continued. "Gosh, the things you can do. Dolphin tours, there's a bowling alley, miles of paths for rollerblading, or just walking if you want. Or you can just laze around and sunbathe..."

"Or my favorite," Allan took over. "Find yourself a table at a pavement café and spend all day people watching."

"What about museums?" Luke asked.

"Museums?" Leia groaned. "Luke. Chill. You're on vacation."

"Nearest Museums are at Tampa, or St. Petersburg, Luke," Allan called over his shoulder. "But you know what? Epcot isn't that far away. And there are other Space Exploration museums and things nearby to. Cape Canaveral's not that far away, either."

"If you want to visit the museums, honey," Debra turned around. "Just let me know. I'll drive you over there. But maybe we could visit Epcot as a family?"

"And there's Disneyworld, too," Allan chuckled.

"No!" Luke looked up horrified. He was shaking his head with an uncharacteristic violence. "Not Disneyworld! No way!"

"Oh, Luke," Debra turned again, surprised at the vehemence in his voice. "Why ever not?"

"There's something about a five foot rodent that gives me the creeps," he shuddered.


* * *


As Allan drove their car through the sprawling town that was Sarasota, he pointed out the various landmarks that had been there when he was no older than the three kids in the back. He also pointed out how much had changed.

"Siesta Drive," he announced as he turned right, off of the main road. They were heading west. "This takes us across to the north end of the key."

Emerging from between some buildings, they found themselves on a bridge.

"Whoa!" they exclaimed.

"The Gulf of Mexico," Allan continued his tour information. "On the right is Sarasota Bay, and the left is Roberts Bay. Straight ahead is Siesta Key, stretching off to the south. The whole north end is like a whole series of canals. Full of yachts, boats and stuff. In my day, it was all fishing boats."

Necks swiveled as they tried to take in everything at once.

"This is Height Avenue," Allan continued. "We follow this about two miles and we turn onto Ocean Boulevard. When you guys get your licenses, this is where all the hot shots cruise at night. Along Ocean and down Beach road at the end. Ah... this is ours." Allan turned right toward the sea, through a nest of small wooden houses, surrounded by shaded verandas. All of them were brightly colored. "Sandy Cove Rd."

Allan had already explained that their grandparents had bought the houses in which their parents now lived years ago, before the property price boom. Before the space race. Like most of the original inhabitants of Siesta Key, the land they had originally bought, back when it was considered next to useless and therefore cheap, they had purchased vast tracts of it. It had been the sale of this land to property developers that had allowed Allan and Debra's parents to continue to live here, keeping up with their property taxes.

"And there they are," Allan smiled as he followed the left handed dog leg in the road.

A hundred yards up the road, on the right, a small group of elderly people were standing out on the sidewalk. They all climbed from the car, the three teenagers standing close together while Debra and Allan embraced their parents.

"Mom, Dad," Debra grinned. "We'd like to introduce the three foster children that we were asked to look after." Everyone had agreed that it would be easier to explain it this way rather than try to explain the truth about the arrangement. "This is Leia," Debra wrapped her arm around Leia. "That's Hans, and the one trying to hide is Luke. And although they're not ours by blood, I'm sure you will love them as much as we do."

The parents were very forthcoming, eager to greet the kids who had given their own children a new lease of life, notwithstanding the fact that in theory, they could now consider themselves Grandparents at last.

"Uhm," Leia frowned. "What do we call you?"

"Just call us Granny and Grandpa," Allan's father smiled as he folded his arm around his wife's shoulder.

"And you can call us Omi and Opa," Debra's father grinned. "Seeing as we're from Germany, originally. And now, you can follow and we have lunch all prepared in the back yard."

The afternoon was spent in the back yard of Debra's parent's house. As it bordered the huge expanse of white sand, they could easily have assumed that they were on the beach. When everyone was full, the grandparents sent everyone else back to the car so that they could unpack.

"So you two have to rough it back here," Leia was smirking at the two collapsible camp beds that would be home for Luke and Hans, "while I have to put up with the luxury of the bedroom upstairs."

"I'm quite happy about that," Luke looked out through the porch door to the sea beyond the dunes. "'Cause you can't sneak in... or out late without waking anyone." He started to grin. "While we can."

"Right," Leia nodded. "As if the only thing you will be sneaking out for isn't a midnight dip in the sea. Alone."

"Who knows, Leia," Hans grinned. "Maybe we'll get lucky and pull."

"You two?" Leia started to laugh. "Pull?" She doubled over with laughter.


* * *


Leia had gone out with Debra, shopping in the boutiques and salons that adorned the little tourist town. Allan had gone over to spend some time with his parents. Hans suspected that he was going to be checking out the TV while he was there. He had wanted to join him, but Allan claimed he needed some 'quality' time. Hans believed that the 'quality' time had more to do with the Panthers than the parents.

"Let's go check it out," he looked over at Luke who sat in the corner of the porch, staring out at the sunset.

"'Kay," Luke nodded.

They both grabbed their wallets before leaving the house.

"Hope everyone has their keys," Luke slid his hand across the keyhole, hearing the audile click as it locked.

"Too bad if they haven't" Hans shrugged. "I wish I could do it that easy."

Luke just shrugged.

"This way, I guess," he pointed south along the path that ran past their back yard.

There were still quite a few people on the beach, though there were very few in the water. The beach and sidewalk cafés were mostly all closed now, but once they had emerged from the residential area and found themselves amid the hotels, there were more and more diners, cafés and restaurants. There were even stores still open, trying to tempt the passers-by to part with their money.

"Not a care in the world," Hans shrugged. The bulk of the people they were passing seemed to be kids. No more than four or five years older than themselves. "At the far end of this gulf," he waved at the water, "there's a struggle going on. Our people against theirs. And here we are playing at being tourists."

"Since the peace deal," Luke rolled his eyes, "It's not so much of a struggle. And what do you want them to do? Sit in their rooms and watch TV all day?"

"Funny, Luke," Hans glared at him. "Real... uff... shit!"

While watching Luke, he had not been watching where he was going. He had collided with someone.

"You freaking moron!" a girl's voice squealed.

Hans had knocked her to the ground. She looked as though she was their age. She had short, blonde hair and green eyes. Eyes that sparkled dangerously. She was trying to stand up, with one hand pulling her skirt to maintain her dignity while the other was used to push herself up. Beside her, an ice cream cone lay melting, already covered in sand.

"Why don't you just look where you're going, huh?" she demanded.

"Hey," Hans snapped. "You could have..."

"And look at that," she waved her hand at the cone. "That just cost me two bucks!"

"So?" Hans shrugged. "Tell someone who cares."

"Excuse me?" the blonde demanded. "Excuse me? So you, like barge in to me, knock me on my ass and my ice cream out of my hands and say you don't care?"

Hans was about to explode. Luke stepped up and put his hand across his chest.

"Uh, excuse my, uh... friend," he glared at Hans. "We only arrived today and uh... we're still kind of tired. He was watching..." Luke looked around. "The, uh, sunset."

"Oh," the girl's temper calmed considerably. "Okay, then," she dusted herself off. "That excuses his lack of attention. But it doesn't excuse his behavior after the event."

"No, you're right," Luke's stern look silenced Han's retort. "And to make it up to you, Hans, uh... will buy you another one. Whatever you want. Won't you Hans?"

"Yeah," he grunted at Luke. "Whatever."

"Oh," she blinked. "Well in that case..."


"So, you arrived today, huh?" the girl licked at the triple coned monster she had selected. Multiple scoops of ice cream, five different flavors, hot chocolate sauce as well as toffee and a sprinkling of nuts. It was so big, she had to use a spoon to help eat it. "So where do you come from?"

"Raleigh," Luke answered for Hans who had remained quiet since he had forked over the eight dollars. "North Carolina. Are you a local, here?"

"Me?" she snorted. "Local? Please."

"So where are you from?"

"Jackson," she scooped some cream with chocolate and nuts with the spoon. "Mississippi. You here on Spring Break?"

"We have... family here," Luke nodded. "But yeah. Spring Break."

"Does your buddy ever speak?"

"Sometimes," Han's growled. "When I have something to say. Unlike some people."

"So, what?" she glared at him. "Are you trying to say I talk too much?"

"Do I have to?"

"You are so..."

"Luke," Luke stepped in to defuse the situation. "I'm Luke Skye. And this is Hans. Hans Ollow."

"Han Solo?" the girl started to laugh. "Oh man, your parents must have a hell of a sense of humor. "Your's too, Luke. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. May the force be with you." Her laughter echoed across the deserted beach.

"Our parents are dead," Hans snapped.

The girl stopped laughing. The humor vanished from her eyes, to be replaced with grimace of self-recrimination.

"I'm so sorry," she gulped. "Really. I had no idea, and I said that... I have this tendency to... Oh, man. I am so sorry."

"That's okay," Luke nodded.

They stood in an uncomfortable silence.

"Well anyway..." she looked around. Anywhere but at the two boys. "I, uh... I'd better go. My... my, uh parents will be wondering where I got to. Look, we're staying over there. At the Holiday Inn. I don't really know anyone my age and... if you want to just hang, that would be cool."

"Okay," Luke shrugged, knowing that they would never see her again. "Perhaps we'll see you around."

She nodded and started to turn away heading back toward the hotel.

"Oh," she called, coming back to them holding her hand out. "My name's Alison. Alison DeLong."


* * *