Loving Destiny: (UC/CC, TEEN) - Ch 67 A/N 09/24/04 [WIP]

[jayta]

continued....

When she was feeling the full weight of her sins against Him, Isabel felt a warm hand upon her shoulder; and as she fearfully and reluctantly peered up at the sudden human contact, a soft, kind and gentle face gazed lovingly at her. He seemed familiar, but she was unable to place the face. However, Isabel fell naturally into his open arms. In his arms flowed such strength, and it penetrated her, to her very core, comforting her, when she thought she would never know peace again.

'I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'

Isabel nodded. She would do anything. She knew the Truth now.

His gentle voice whispered soothing words into her ear, as he rocked her in his arms. And when she felt an overwhelming sense of peace and rest, Isabel looked up into the face of God and saw forgiveness and love. Her tired and weary body was suddenly renewed and filled with an unexplainable joy.

The familiar man, who now seemed so close, knelt before her and smiled faintly. With a swift, smooth motion of his finger, the man brushed a lock of her hair out of her eye.

'Now you are ready. You will be my instrument of righteousness.'


*********

Chapter Fifty Six

***
There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
- George Elliott
***

Max stood reflecting on the past few days and lingered on the infinite wisdom and power, which he knew was carrying him through these trials, completely baffled by its sincerity and reality. As he peered out on the hard, barren landscape that spanned the distance, Max felt the calm of the lifeless, yet living, region. It turned his thoughts to his world, silently cautioning him of their own fate, which was looming ever nearer. But whatever was to befall him and his people, Max was confident today was not going to be the end, but just the beginning.

"What are you looking at?" Liz asked softly, peering over his shoulder.

Max kept his eyes upon the fading horizon; unable to force himself to look upon this woman he would now leave behind, and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "They'll come from over that hill." He pointed to a distant sand dune, which glowed a golden red, under the rays of the setting sun.

"How can you be so sure?"

This time he looked down at her innocent, questioning face, briefly, and folded his arms across his chest, as he returned his watchful gaze upon the empty horizon. "I just know."

Max knew he sounded cryptic, but it was true; it was hard to explain this confidence he had at that moment, but it gave him the strength to face the overwhelming battle before him. His life had changed so much since his brief, but revealing journey to that nameless beach. He wasn't the boy who walked off the seamless, white sands; it was a weird, but calming understanding of himself that he had never known before.

"You're so different Max," Liz said hesitantly. She rested her hand upon his forearm, and gently maneuvered Max's body towards her. "I know that a lot has been going on lately, but it's like you're slipping away from me."

Max closed his eyes as she spoke with a heartbreaking vulnerability. He nodded. "I know," he whispered. "It's hard Liz." Max slid his hands from under his arms and cupped her face in his hands. "It's the most difficult thing I've ever had to do, but..." He paused, averting his eyes. "I have to do this."

Liz felt a shiver run down her spine. Even his voice seemed distant as he spoke to her now.

"When we talked last night, it was like I was watching you drown, when you tried to figure this whole thing out - the lies, the deceit - I knew you haad had enough."

Liz opened her mouth to protest, but Max shook his head, signalling for her to let him speak.

"I wasn't ready to give you up Liz. I was ready to stay here with you, keep my promise, and damn the consequences." Max dropped his hands from her searching face and took a step back. "I was going to tell you that nothing had changed..."

Liz stared at Max intently, as his body tensed during his explanation of their unravelling relationship, and closed her eyes in resignation. She didn't want to understand, but her heart spoke the words her mind wouldn't allow. "But things always do..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Change." Liz opened her eyes and tried to swallow the lump that was lodged in her throat. "Max, like I said last night, I know that you can't let those people die."

Max turned around and smiled sadly. "You gave me that strength, Liz." He lifted his hand towards her and clasped it in his. "I didn't want to go on without telling you this." Max took a deep breath, trying to relieve the dull ache underneath his chest. It was like he was saying goodbye, and perhaps in a way, he was.

"I have been struggling with this ever since Tess came back." Max searched the dark brown eyes, which he had always looked to for comfort and understanding, for any type of recognition of his behavior in the last several days. Her expression was unreadable. He sighed, deciding to continue on. "Her return brought a lot of old questions and decisions back, and this time it was more important because she wasn't giving me an easy out."

"Why was there any decision?" Liz asked pensively. She knew he was breaking his promise to her - to be with her, to love her - but she needed to know why this was happening at all.

Max nodded, understanding where Liz was coming from. "Because this time, she took herself out of the equation," he explained gently. "It wasn't about 'our' destiny, but about the fate of the millions of people on Antar."

"But wasn't it about that the first time?" Liz wasn't about to make this easy for him. She had questions, and she wanted answers.

"Partly," Max admitted. "But when I made my decision before, I really wasn't thinking at all about the people, or the consequences my decision would have for them."

"And now?"

"And now, I realize how pathetic it was, to think I was any king at all, when I had turned my back on all of my people." Max closed his eyes and could almost hear the screams of his people, calling out his name, pleading for God to rescue them. "I have been chosen," he said softly. "And you gave me the strength to be that man; the man who can face his destiny. You let me go."

Liz was startled by Max's revelation. She never wanted to be credited with giving Max the strength to say goodbye to her. Last night had been a blur. It seemed more like a dream than reality. She had been tired and last night had been the final straw; she couldn't fight anymore, and now Max was telling her that she was the reason he was finally able to take on the responsibility of becoming this patriarch of an entire world. It was surreal.

"I...I don't know what to say," she stammered.

Max nodded. "Liz, this might sound crazy, but I know now that I am chosen," he said, like it was some secret he was not supposed to divulge. "God spoke to me; and I know that I need to go."

Liz tilted her head and cocked her eyebrow. "God...God what?"

Max tried to think of the words to explain all that had been revealed to him about his 'destiny' and reconciling the part of him that was Zan into human words. All of it seemed like a something out of a fantasy novel. "I know," he rolled his eyes back, "it sounds weird coming from me right? I never believed in God, and now he's the reason I've decided that I need to go to Antar." Max let out an ironic chuckle. "It's crazy!" He threw his hands up into the air. "But," he said, turning to her. "It's true. I know it's true. They talked about the Royal Four being chosen and that's what they meant. Apparently they have the same God in space as they do on Earth." He tried to make his revelation humorous, but the only expression on Liz's face was of confusion and distress.

"Don't think that I haven't tried to reason my way out of it," he groaned. "But it's no use. And it's probably not going to make any sense to you, since you didn't see the things I've seen in the past few days..."

Liz shook her head. "I believe you." The words seemed to come out of nowhere. Liz wasn't sure she understood it all, but enough of it made sense to her, that she wouldn't call him crazy. Even though she hadn't experienced the last few days with him, Liz had seen many unthinkable things since Max saved her life, and for some unknown reason, she truly understood what he was going through.

"Liz, I..." But before Max could tell her how much he appreciated her unexpected support, and trust that he was doing the right thing, he felt a sudden heaviness weigh in the air. He turned around and followed the desert landscape back to the sunlit hill, where he had been watching restlessly, for hours on end.

"What is it?" Liz frowned, following Max's distracted gaze to the location he had previously pointed out to her. Her voice caught in her throat, as her mouth was left agape.

Under the setting sun, was a thin shadowy line, just above the golden sands, that had not been there before.

"He's here." Max took a strode forward, until the tip of his foot hung millimetres from the steep, death drop, and gazed knowingly at the mask of shadowy figures that seemed to ripple against the matted sands. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reaching out into the darkened mass. "You won't win," Max muttered into the cooling expanse.

Liz watched intensely, as Max seemed to fall into a trance. Though her eyes remained upon Max, her whole body was aware of the shadows that seemed to be slowly creeping across the flat desert, and she held her breath. Liz followed Max's lead and closed her eyes; though she was unable to speak to darkness, if he was, indeed speaking to it, she would silently send up an anxious prayer to God. She herself was not a believer, but Max, who seemed almost unfazed by the unknown, emanated an unexpected confidence - a sign of his sudden 'change' - and stood tall upon the steep, jutting plateau.

Max opened his eyes and turned to Liz; aware his time was shortening with each breath. "Go into the cave and warn Jesse. I don't know what exactly is going to happen, but," he glanced briefly up at the now, thicker shadows, which filled the peak of the hill, and was creeping over the wide embankments, "you will need to stay out of sight."

Liz shook her head in adamant protest. She looked out into the distance. If the unending shadow, that seemed to move towards them as one 'thing', intended to attack Max, she would be by his side. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

Max snapped his head around and glared at her. "GO!"

Liz jumped back at the sudden ominous change in his calm demeanor: his face was hardened by the shadows cast by the fading sun, and his posture was rigid - commanding authority. She backed, several feet, down the rocky plateau, briefly glancing behind her, to find her footing; and when Max became only a grey shadow, Liz turned heel and ran down the untravelled path to the hidden cave.

Max continued his watch over the trained army approaching his chosen battlefield. As they came, Max pulled out Isabel's bible, and kept it in hand. His mind was filled with verses of the small book and how they applied to this very moment. His lips moved silently as he watched Khivar's men approach. Max narrowed his eyes and took one last deep breath before exhaling slowly.

'The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but victory rests with the Lord. Proverbs 21:31'

~~~

Kyle groaned, as he woke up to a whispered commotion; his attempt to guard the unconscious victims of the alien invasion had apparently failed, as he stretched his arms above his head. I must have fallen asleep.

"What the hell is going on?" Mr. Evans whispered through clenched teeth. The tall, stocky middle-aged man was sitting on the sandy floor, which was encased by bars of iron; his hair and business attire were disheveled from the kidnappers' jostling.

Kyle looked around the prison for support, and saw Maria also awaking from her state of unconsciousness. She looked as confounded by the demand as he was. "Uh, look Mr. and Mrs. Evans," he stammered, blinking several times, out of a nervous habit. "There's a lot," he glanced at Maria uncertainly, "you don't know."

Mrs. Evans shook her head in disbelief. "Wh-what do you mean, Kyle?" she stuttered, clutching anxiously to Mr. Evans. "Where are we?"

Maria jumped into the conversation, for which Kyle was grateful for, trying to explain the unexplainable, as far as he was concerned. He had no idea how he ever wrapped his mind around the concept that Maxwell, Isabel, and Michael were aliens. "Mrs. Evans, there's a lot of information we're going to tell you, that might sound like we're on drugs or something, but it's all true."

Mr. Evans stared skeptically at him, while slowly nodding, acknowledging Maria's bid to give him a reason for why he and his wife were locked up in some cage in the middle of the desert. "Go on," he said with a strange calmness.

Maria looked to him, as if to inform him that she was going to begin. Kyle raised his eyebrows, as if to say, 'good luck', gesturing for her to take a stab at the mountainous task.

"'Kay," Maria drawled, turning her attention to Mr. and Mrs. Evans. "First thing you have to know is that..."

Suddenly they were rudely interrupted by two large, menacing brutes, whose faces were hidden by the blinding light that pierced the darkened tent. Kyle swallowed hard, as Maria had quickly bit her lip, silencing her speech, and he crawled back to the far corner where Maria and the Evans' were fearfully crouching.

"Get up!" One man in uniform approached the cell. His shadow fell upon the Evans' - Mrs. Evans, who shrunk away in fear, and Mr. Evans, who narrowed his eyes and growled. "Who do you think you are?"

The dark skinned man turned his steely gaze upon Mr. Evans, who stared back in defiance. "You will not speak," his low baritone voice commanded ominously.

Kyle turned to older, yet unlearned man to his right, and grasped his arm tightly in his hand. "Don't," he warned, locking gazes with Mr. Evans, who stared at him in disbelief. "You don't know what you're dealing with." Mr. Evans narrowed his eyes in skepticism, as if deliberating whether he could trust Kyle's assessment of the man, when Mrs. Evans tugged on his sleeve.

"Honey, I think we should listen to him," she whispered uneasily.

Mr. Evans glanced briefly at his wife, before looking up at the powerful figure, which loomed over them - his expression seemed to dare Mr. Evans to utter another word. Kyle held his breath, closing his eyes and praying the knowledgeable lawyer would heed his advice. And peeking out of the corner of his eye at Mr. and Mrs. Evans, he saw Mr. Evans back down. Kyle looked up at the soldier, in time to see the smirk emerge on his thin-lipped mouth.

"Now," his voice boomed, "if you give us no trouble, you just might live long enough to see Zan die a horrible death." The smirk on his lips grew in size, while a yellowish halo seemed to pulse beneath his green eyes.

At this declaration, Kyle glanced nervously at Maria, whose whole body was tensed in fear, while the Evans seemed unsure of whom this man was speaking of. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling, trying to think positively on the whole situation. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with a sense of panic and fear. Who was he kidding? If they didn't get out of there, they would soon be dead!

Kyle glanced around the loosely tied down tent, looking for any possible means for escape. If they didn't find a way out, and get to Isabel, he was sure she would face the same fate the alien soldier had declared for 'Zan'. Unexpectedly, Kyle felt himself pushed towards the cell door, as one of their captors prodded each of them out of the cage, towards the other waiting guard.

God, get us out of this. Kyle winced as the guard shackled him with a pair of thin, plastic-like fasteners. They seemed easy enough to get out of, Kyle had thought, but when he pulled at the stretchy cord, he felt a sudden jolt; when he opened his eyes, Kyle found himself slumped on the floor.

The guards' laughter rumbled throughout the tent, as the guard, who put the restraints on him, roughly pulled him to his feet. "Oh, did I forget to mention," he wryly glanced at the others, "that wouldn't be recommended?"

Kyle could hear the other guard snicker behind his back, as he rubbed his sore neck, careful not to pull on the 'stunning' cuffs, as his dad would almost certainly say. His eyes widened at the thought. His dad. He would be worried sick about him. Kyle silently groaned. He couldn't leave his father, not like his mother did.

"Move," the new guard, with dark brown eyes ordered, prodding him with a grey metal rod.

Kyle glanced behind him, slowly walking towards the not-so-welcomed daylight, and saw Maria and the Evans' following behind him, in single file. He paused at the entrance of tent, staring out into the tan and copper tones of sand, rock and canvas, and took one last deep breath, before stepping out into the uncertain fates that awaited all of them. Very soon, each of them would face their own mortal destinies. He just didn't know if they would live to see it.

~~~

"Have the prisoners been sent for?" he asked. The General stood a league away from the evident landmark across the desert. Its golden peak pointed as if to the sun.

"Yes Sir," Captain Leisner nodded, standing to his right. "They are on their way."

"Good."

"Sir?" Captain Leisner's voice cracked.

"What is it?"

"Can I ask why we left Princess Vilandra behind?"

The General turned to his Second in Command. "Never put all of your eggs in one basket," he said discernibly, finding another human analogy within his host, useful. "If there is the slightest possibility, which his highly unlikely," he gestured to his legion of hundreds, "then we always have a 'Plan B'."

Captain Leisner's eyes lit up in recognition. "I understand now."

"Good."

Suddenly shouts rose from behind him. The General turned around and saw a procession approaching. Two of his soldiers marched with Khivar's banner flying above. His soldiers slowly departed, creating a pathway, which led to him. Behind them were four meek and cowering beings, shackled in their energy restraints, more than enough to keep humans in line, followed by two rear guards. He turned to Captain Leisner, who seemed pleased with the arrival of their prisoners.

"And now, let our battle finish as it should have, for the last time!"

~~~

"Uhh." Michael grunted, as he struck down hard at his startled sparring partner. His bow reverberated underneath his fingers, as he pushed the image of Isabel from his mind. After his meeting with General Steren, Fadilia, and Tess, Michael was spurred on to continue his training. He needed to be ready; nothing would stand in his way. Once again he struck down hard against his opponent's bow. His thoughts drifted to the image of Isabel's body underneath the dark flowing waters - a picture that plagued him. "Gah!" he cried, spinning around countering his opponent's attack and swinging the light wooden rod reflexively, coming only millimeters from striking the young, dark haired soldier's stunned face.

"Something on your mind?" Tess said dryly, as she stepped out from the shadows of the closed cubicle. She had followed him after the impromptu meeting, as he left in a cloudy haze, his focus elsewhere, to the training centre.

Michael cocked his head slightly, realizing he had a spectator, his gaze remaining on his sparring partner, who remained under the control of his bow. "What do you want?" he said breathily. Pausing for a moment, Michael swallowed, regaining his composure again and removed his bow from the vicinity of his sparring partner's face. Michael reached down and offered his hand to the boy, who accepted his hand appreciatively.

"I think," she paused a moment, gazing intently at the stranger in their midst, "we need to talk."

Suddenly the boy realized their Queen stood in his presence and he reverently bowed before Tess.

"You can go," Michael dismissed casually, as he stepped down from the raised stage, with a two-inch thick, white painted ring, in the middle of the average sized quarters. The quick and jittery boy stood at attention and turned to Michael and saluted. Without a word, his sparring partner left the black room, which was only dimly lit; in fact the sparring area was the only space with any direct light shining upon it. It was a military training tool, he had often used in his past, to learn not to depend on his sight, but rather feel his opponent's presence, without having to see him...or her. Taking a long dreg from his water bottle, Michael kept his eyes averted, hoping to avoid this conversation.

"What's got you all wound up?" Tess asked curiously. "It's like you've got something eating at you."

Michael walked a few steps further and grabbed his towel, which he had left on the floor. "Nothing."

Tess rolled her eyes. "Do we have to do this every time something's bothering you?" she groaned, folding her arms across her chest, tapping her index finger against her forearm.

Michael leaned against the dark walls, which were such an intense black, he almost felt like his hand could reach into the black void. Keeping his eyes focused on the sparring ring, he mopped his brow. "I'm here to spar, not talk," he said curtly.

Tess narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. He was just being plain difficult. It irritated her and she almost felt like walking away, letting the emotionally stunted hybrid, brood like he always did. But then she heard these words pass her lips, "If you're here to spar, then let's spar..."

Inwardly, Tess slapped herself up side the head. She had no idea where that came from. She had no experience at all with this sort of training, or in her opinion, coordination for it.

Michael couldn't help but be thrown by Tess' sudden challenge. He glanced mischievously at the small petite frame that stood, glaring defiantly at him. Cocking his head, he narrowed his eyes and asked, "You serious?"

Tess could hear a voice inside her head saying, 'Yes. I was kidding!' This was her chance to back out. But her physical and mental control seemed in malfunction. "Yes," she heard herself rebuke Michael's skepticism. Tess closed her eyes and groaned.

Michael smirked. He motioned with his head, to the sparring ring. "Let's go."

He watched her slowly approach the ring, as if regretting each step closer she got to the darkened stage. Michael walked over to the entrance of the room and pressed a sequence of numbers and letters; suddenly the room was flooded with several lights, which made Michael flinch.

Tess stood atop the hard padded ring. She placed her hands on her hips and looked out at Michael, who was swaggering towards her. "So what now?" she asked.

Michael placed one hand on the stage and hopped onto the ring with her. His eyes glanced down her body. Tess frowned. Was he checking her out?

She followed his gaze and realized he was looking at her clothes. Michael wore a grey tank top, which was drenched in sweat, and matched with a pair of loose sweats, which seemed to have a stretchy quality to them. Tess looked down at what she wore, which was a thin silky white chiffon-like robe. It was not exactly sparring attire.

"You're going to fight in that?" Michael chuckled, raising his eyebrow at the wispy dress.

Tess rolled her eyes. She tugged at the narrow ribbon-like tie, which held her robe closed - dropping the thin fabric over her shoulders and letting it slide down her arms. "Is this better?"

Michael dropped his jaw, not expecting her to drop the feminine garb to the floor. His reaction was premature though, because underneath the white robe was a stretchy, blue tank top, and her legs were covered with a pair of black tights.

Tess stifled the urge to laugh out loud. She tilted her head, staring at him innocently. "Were you expecting me to be wearing something else?" she asked mischievously.

Michael consciously closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, glaring acerbically at her little joke. "Funny," he said dryly. "Very funny."

Tess tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips curled slightly, and before she knew it, she was laughing openly. "You should have seen your face," she giggled, pointing at Michael. "It was priceless."

Michael rolled his eyes and sighed. "Here," he said, handing her his bow, while he bent down to pick up his partner's bow. "Take this."

Tess frowned as Michael dropped a somewhat heavy stick into her hands. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she pouted. "It's not like I've ever picked one these up before." She looked at him skeptically. "Why don't we just skip this part?"

Now it was Michael's turn to look at her with confusion. "What do you mean? I thought you knew how to spar? If you didn't, why would you challenge me?" he teased, walking around her in a circle.

Tess let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you really going to make me fight you?" she said mournfully.

Michael remained silent, as if truly debating his answer, all the while, continuing to circle her, as if she was his prey; when a sudden stroke of genius came upon him. He hated, in part, to humiliate her like this, but she deserved it; if she was ever to learn that when he told her to go away, that he meant it. With a swift strike, Michael brought his bow upon her, slow enough to control his movement, stopping before he hit her - just to teach her lesson.

Tess' eyes widened as she saw the wooden stick coming towards her face. She closed her eyes and cringed, ready for the blow, but before she felt any sting of the hard rod, she felt her arms rise in a reflex action, and then she heard a 'clack'. When Tess opened her eyes, her jaw dropped in astonishment, when she saw her arms raised slightly above her head and the bow blocking Michael's strike.

"Where did that come from?" Michael exclaimed in amazement. He was about to stop short when he saw Tess block his 'blow'.

It could have been reflexes, or it could have been something along the lines of what he had been experiencing while training. He wasn't quite sure. Whatever the reason, he knew she was shocked at her response, too.

"I...I have no clue," she stammered. "It's a surprise to me!"

Michael stepped back, pulling his bow away and began to circle her; Tess in response, began to circle as well, keeping her eye on him. He tried a few tentative attacks, to see if her earlier block had been a reflex. Michael chose a few different, yet difficult moves to use on her, and she seemed to block each one, with some ease. Her skill with the bow was not fluid, by any means, but she seemed to understand the motion of the weapon, and where to strategically place her hands. After several minutes passed and he had pinned her on a few attacks, though not without quickening his attacks, to a level only used on a trained soldier, he stepped back, winded by his previous sparring match and now this test of Tess' skills.

Tess shook her head and swallowed, trying to catch her breath, after only a few minutes of sparring with Michael. She tried not to think while fighting, if she did, her concentration would be divided, and she learned, a few times, that mistakes could hurt. Once she found her rhythm and allowed some automatic, or trained response to guide her movements, Tess found her speed and attack quickened. It baffled her that she could do these things.

Michael walked to the edge of the ring, where he had placed his water bottle and squeezed some of the quenching liquid down his throat before handing it to Tess, who looked like she was ready to fall over. He consciously took slow, deep breaths, so he wouldn't cramp up after the short work out, while staring intently at Tess. He nodded approvingly. "You must have listening when I forced you to take some physical training," he said perceptibly.

Tess frowned. "What lessons?"

"You don't remember that?" Michael looked at her in disbelief. He just assumed she had regain all of her memories; on Earth she always seemed to sure of herself, and referred to their past numerous times.

Tess shrugged. "I remember the big things, but certain details...no," she admitted, brushing back the stray damp, curly locks hanging in her eyes. His question made it sound like he remembered everything, which surprised her. "So are you saying you remember everything?"

Michael shrugged, making a face. "I guess," he said dismissively. "It's all in my head. It's not like I know it, like the memories I have of my 'real' life now." He paused, wiping his sweaty brow with the towel he hung loosely around his neck. "I remember some things more vividly than others, like you do; but if I think hard enough, usually can recall most of the details of some event." He didn't want to make a big deal over it.

Tess was stunned by the revelation. "Hmm," she mumbled, trying to understand why she could regain all of her memories. "You mean, if I was to talk to you about Zan and my wedding, you could recall pretty much what happened?"

Michael sat down on the stage, pulling his knees up slightly and resting his arms on them. "Yeah. But don't you?" He looked curiously at Tess, who joined him on the stage, sitting with her legs sprawled to her left

Tess closed her eyes and pictured that day. She could remember the excitement, and feel the butterflies in her stomach, even now; but could she see the event, or recall each event...Tess shook her head. "I know what I felt," she said softly, "but I can't remember what was said at the toast, or what my bridesmaids were wearing." Tess opened her eyes and looked over at Michael. "It's so frustrating."

Michael shook his head in opposition. "It's not always a bad thing," he muttered.

Tess tilted her head and frowned. "What do you mean?" She leaned forward, awaiting his answer.

"I remember things that...that I sometimes don't want to remember," he mumbled. Michael could see Vilandra's face as she fell helplessly into the pool and then the image flashed to Isabel under the purple water. He grit his teeth and threw the wet towel across the ring. "Sometimes I wish I could forget."

Tess scooted forward until she was an arms' length away from him. "Are you talking about how we died?" she asked tentatively. "I know I would hate to relive that over and over again..." Her voice trailed off. She was uncertain just what she should say to him. He had experiences that she didn't - she didn't have to face her life before 24/7.

"It has nothing to do with that," Michael said gruffly. He really wanted to stop talking about it. He didn't even know how they got on this topic.

"Then what is it?"

Michael pushed himself up off the matting and shook his head. "I just can't talk about it," he muttered, walking off the ring.

Tess reached out and grabbed his arm and stopped Michael from walking away. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone." She took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "I know what it is like...dealing with a past." Suddenly Michael stopped her and pulled out of her grasp. "This has nothing to do with the past!" he shouted.

Tess was taken aback. Her heart raced, as she became sensitive to the emotional state Michael was in. She had never seen him like this. He looked frustrated and helpless. As she watched him pacing back and forth before her, trying to deal with some demon or unresolved relationship, deep inside. It brought back memories of when she thought she might lose that chance with Max, when she found out that she was dying...Tess' eyes glanced up at Michael's anxiety plagued expression. "Michael, is something wrong with Isabel?" she asked intuitively. "Is that why you're acting like this?"

Michael spun around and glared at Tess. "Did you go inside my head?" he glared, pointing accusingly at her.

Tess shook her head. "N-no, Michael," she said hesitantly. Silence filled the room. "Are you saying that that's what's wrong?"

Michael swallowed, running his fingers through his hair, going over in his head what was real and what was only a dream. He shook his head tiredly. "I don't know," he sighed, as if somehow that would lighten this weight, which had been sitting heavily, on his chest.

"Tell me what you saw..."

"I don't know if it was a dream or if it was just a memory," Michael rambled. "It was all so mixed up." He turned around and began pacing again. "I," he made quote marks with his fingers, "was teasing Vilandra, and all of the sudden she accidentally fell off the terrace and into the swimming pool. And I know this happened when we were kids, I remember it." Michael stopped midstride and squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to recall something, and suddenly began pacing again.

"So this happened a lifetime ago," Tess said soothingly. She wished she could understand what he was trying to say. The memory was disturbing, but what she couldn't understand, was why this brought such an intense reaction of guilt.

"But you don't understand," Michael turned around and stared at her, as if imploring her to understand. "I wasn't Rath anymore. I saw Isabel floating in the pool. I tried to save her, but she just grew heavier and heavier..." His voice faded, as if there was no voice left to voice his thoughts.

Tess wanted to hold him, and tell him things would be fine, but she knew she couldn't. What Michael saw could have been because of his connection with her, which would mean she probably was in trouble, and that knowledge would not comfort him at all. Instead, Tess stood in front of him and grabbed his upper arms, and looked him in the eye. "I don't know what's happening, Michael. And I'm not going to lie to you," she said warily. "You could be right. I understand how helpless you feel. I felt like that when I heard Max was dying."

Michael glared at her. "But you saved him. You got a second chance," he spat. "What do I have?" His heart ached and he tried to fill the emptiness, the despair with rage and anger, but there was none. Michael closed his eyes and allowed the tears to silently slide down his face, while he felt Tess grip his hand when he tried to pull away.

"But she is strong," Tess protested. "I know Isabel, and she would not give up without a fight. Right, Michael?" She made him face her.

Michael nodded slowly. "I know she is strong..." He closed his eyes. "But there's just something about what I saw," he shook his head, "it wasn't normal."

Over and over, Michael tried to figure out if there had been another way - did he really have to leave her behind - but he kept drawing a blank.

"Max will protect her." This was the last word of comfort she had for him. Tess knew they couldn't leave, not when the war had just begun; as General Steren had mentioned, several battles were being waged right now. And also...she needed him. If it was only herself against Khivar and his entire army, she knew they didn't stand a chance; but with Michael, at least they had twice the odds as when she returned to Antar.

Michael appreciated Tess' attempts to give him solace, but he knew there would be no sleep, no rest for him, as long as he knew Isabel was in danger. He thought about the discussion that happened earlier that evening, and sighed. They needed him - he knew that. The rescue of Andaria and Zander from Khivar and Nicholas' experiments was important, if the war were to end, they would need to take his leverage over Tess from his grasp.

But Isabel...

"The One has a plan for her Michael."

Michael and Tess spun around, startled at the familiar voice. "Fadilia," Tess gasped. "How long have you been there?"

The older, wiser Kedran smiled faintly and lowered her eyes. "I must apologize for listening to your private conversation; it was rude of me."

Michael knew her heart must have been as torn as his was right at this moment. She had lived so long without her daughter or her son, and here he was blurting out that she could die. He did not envy her; yet from his standpoint, she didn't seem worried, but calm and understanding of the situation.

"How can you be so calm?" he asked tersely. "Not after what I just told Tess about seeing Isabel dead."

Fadilia's eyes flashed with emotion, but her expression remained stoic. "You don't know what you saw, Michael." She gracefully strode towards them. "The visions, the things you see, aren't always as they appear," she explained calmly. "You should know that, or at least, Rath should know that." Her tone was pointed, and her eyes gazed at them with an aged experience. "You cannot turn away from your path, Michael...even if it is because of my daughter."

Michael frowned. "What are you saying?" His voice held an underlying sharpness.

Fadilia sighed warily at him. "You cannot second guess yourself." She lowered her eyes and rubbed her smooth temples. "You are where the One needs you to be," she stated.

"But I can make mistakes," Michael protested. "You say I'm where I need to be, but it's not like I'm listening to his advice or anything. For all you or I know, I was supposed to stay and keep her out of whatever has got her!" His heart was racing, his blood filled with adrenaline.

"Michael," Tess said quietly. "Don't get so upset. She's only trying to help."

Michael furrowed his brow at Tess' remark and shook his head. "I remember my life as Rath, and I know you created us to have a second chance, but it doesn't mean I buy into this 'the One' thing," he spat, backing away from Tess and Fadilia, who both stood silently, with pained expressions on their faces. "You may be able to sit idly by as Isabel could be in pain, or dying at this very minute, but I can't. I won't."

He hopped down off the platform and stalked towards the door. Neither Tess nor Fadilia made a move to stop him. He was glad. The more he opened up about his fears for Isabel's life, the more surreal Tess and Fadilia's reactions were. They just didn't seem to care.

Tess smiled half-heartedly at Fadilia, whose face had paled, as she stood unmoved after Michael's tirade. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," she whispered softly. Tess bent down and grabbed her white robe and draped it across her arm. "I think he's a little out of his mind after that dream." She sighed. "To tell you the truth, I've never seen him like that."

Fadilia glanced behind her towards the dimly lit hallway through the sliding door, which was slightly ajar. "He's entitled to feel that way," she said thoughtfully. "He loves her very much." Her blue eyes turned towards Tess, and gazed inquisitively at her. "I shouldn't assume that either you or Michael should feel comfortable believing that the One is overseeing all of us. It wasn't that way when you lived before."

Tess shifted uncomfortably, unable to explain her feelings about the subject. "It's just hard," she said slowly; finally settling with a vague reply. "We never thought about it."

Fadilia slid her right hand from under her long flowing sleeve, and reached out towards her. "I was unfaithful too - rebellious towards the authority He wielded." She paused. "But I have never known such peace and joy as I have found over the past decade, trusting Him to bring my children home to me."

Tess stepped hesitantly forward, sliding off the padded stage and slipping her hand underneath crook of Fadilia's arm. "But he hasn't done that," she said, gazing at her quizzically. "I mean, he hasn't brought them home."

If she believed, Tess was sure that she would have given up years ago, unable to hold to the faith that God would bring her children home. But now, surely it seemed even more like a confirmation of the absence of a Higher Power, when she beheld two of the Royal Four, who did not have blood ties. Tess knew she would have a hard time reconciling the oddity of it all.

Fadilia shook her head. "I still believe..." Her voice seemed a little hesitant, as if doubt were creeping into her heart. The long hazel lashes above and below her piercing eyes shadowed the thoughts of her heart.

Silence fell between the two. Tess consciously matched Fadilia's leisurely stride, as they entered the main corridor. It felt familiar, walking with her former mother-in-law. "Why...or how do you have so much faith in something, or someone you've never seen before?"

Fadilia, unthinkingly, began to pat her arm as they wandered the scenic, though dim and humid, hiding place. "Do you know what I used to ponder during the first days here at Wadi Eschol?" she asked wistfully, as if speaking to the silent walls. "I used to contemplate the meaning of my existence - what the purpose of my life was."

Tess furrowed her brow slightly, not understanding why this would be an odd occurrence. She was sure many people had those thoughts.

Fadilia turned her steady gaze upon her and squeezed her hand. "I know it is not a strange thought; but when I was musing over this, I realized that this thought had never crossed my mind before," she admitted sheepishly. "As queen over Antar, I had been too busy planning balls, travelling to allying planets, and a host of other unimportant duties; but not once did I bother to concern myself with the needs of our people."

"That's not true," Tess protested vehemently. "I know I don't remember everything, but you were a good Queen."

Fadilia chuckled softly, as she squeezed her hand again. "Of course I wasn't a witch, or by any means a tyrant," she exclaimed in amusement. "But, for the most part, I was involved with me and my surrounding world." Her expression turned serious once again. "My children and Alaric, that was what mattered the most to me - above all else."

"Is that a bad thing, though?"

"It is," Fadilia said knowingly, "when you are the Queen of Antar."

"But why don't I remember you that way?" Tess asked restlessly.

"My dear child," Fadilia cooed, stopping midstride and pressing her hand against Tess' cheek. "Of course you and Zan did not know any better, I surrounded you with people who were the same way. How could you have known any different?"

Tess still couldn't reconcile this image of Queen Fadilia, with the one Fadilia was describing. She shook her head. She didn't believe it. "You're being too hard on yourself," she chided. "You were loved by your people."

Fadilia stiffened and gazed critically at her. "It was not I," she rebuked her. Tess shrunk back. Fadilia paused a moment and then backed away, her expression softening once again. She turned her gaze back towards the end of the corridor, where her room was. "You must understand Alaric was the one the people loved, even though our people did not realize it. He was the one who loved his people."

Tess didn't know what to say. Fadilia's sudden unveiling of this charismatic and gentle woman Tess had remembered from her past, was startling and unsettling. "Why are you telling me all of this?" she asked hesitantly.

The un-aged Queen paused a moment, her eyes gazing off distantly, as if she were reliving a past life. "I," she hedged, "I was ignorant and heedless to the needs of our people." Fadilia closed her eyes for a brief moment before turning her gaze back upon Tess. "Don't make the same mistakes that I did," she said breathily. "Everything was taken away from me in one moment, and I had nothing left but to find Him."

Tess shifted uncomfortably. Fadilia had not confronted her, so blatantly, with the idea of the One's Prophecy. The urgent and pleading eyes that stared after her somehow reached inside and made her understand Fadilia's sense of loss. But what else flourished from underneath the echoing sorrow was a light sense of hope, which carried her. Tess frowned. It was this sense of hope that fueled Fadilia in her darkest hours.

"So," she swallowed, "you're telling me that I need Him?" Tess looked cynically upon Fadilia, who seemed convinced of a superior being, and his power to save them. Fadilia nodded expectantly. "And I'm just supposed to put everything into this belief of yours, that He will somehow convince Max and Isabel back to Antar to save our people; when he has so firmly told us that he could care less?"

Fadilia's bright eyes dimmed, and her shoulders drooped slightly, causing her elegant carriage to diminish. Her mouth pursed, as she folded her hands neatly in front of her. "You're not ready to believe," she said softly, more to herself than to Tess. And as Tess watched intently, as Fadilia returned her gaze back upon her, she felt this sense of expectation. Her heart fluttered ever so slightly. "You will see, my child. My son, who is like his father in so many ways, will come back to us." Her eyes remained steady as she gazed confidently at Tess. "He will."

"I...I'm tired," Tess lied, feigning a weak yawn. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head.

Fadilia tilted her head slightly and smiled faintly. "Of course," she whispered. "I did not mean to keep you up so late."

Tess swallowed her guilt. In that instance, she regretted lying to Fadilia in an attempt to escape this awkward conversation. Nodding courteously, Tess backed away, turning on her heel and making her way back to her room. Why did that make me feel so uncomfortable? Tess sighed and shook her head. Surely the idea of someone watching over them and having a plan for their lives couldn't be so repulsive? As she stepped into her room and began her rituals before going to bed, Tess stopped and looked at herself in the full-length mirror that hung against the wall.

'Or maybe you're afraid that you're going to get everything you've ever wanted?'

Tess blinked several times, gently resting her hand against her bare neck - she had never been afraid of hoping before, but now, it seemed to make her pulse race. "I know we've said that we were done with him," she whispered to the image, who stared searchingly back at her. "But can we ever really let go?" Tess glanced over her shoulder to the picture of Zander sitting on her desk. "He needs to know his father." She turned back to the image in the mirror. "I know he wants to know our son." Swallowing uneasily at the idea that was now resurfacing from a dream that existed before her return now long since dead and buried, Tess took a deep breath and walked over towards her bed; flopping onto the firm mattress and sliding her body to the right, she peered up through the small portal in the ceiling. A small portion of the evening sky filled, what now, seemed like a stifling room.

"Maybe," she said to herself. "Just maybe..." Her voice trailed off, as her lids grew heavy and her mind darkened - sleep over taking her.

**********

Chapter Fifty Seven

***
One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake. .
- Robert Browning
***

"Isabel?" Michael felt disoriented and nauseous, as he searched through the ominous abyss. "Are you out here?" he called urgently. His hands reached out, as a blind man, searching for his way.

"Here..." a voice beckoned. "Come here." Its voice was airy and welcoming.

Michael tightly squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the pounding within his ears, focusing solely on Isabel's face. It was all he knew to do. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew if he let himself lose concentration, he would be lost out here. "Isabel," he called out again. "Where are you?" He willed his legs to move forward, as if travelling through the thick dense space; every step was a battle, as if he were walking up a steep hill.

"Here!" a voice said excitedly. "I've been searching for you forever!"

Michael turned his ear towards the direction of the voice. "Who are you?" His mind wandered slightly, feeling drawn to the inviting voice, as if being drawn in by some mystic force.

"It's been such a tiring search," it explained mournfully. "I only now recognized your voice. Where have you been? We have been waiting!"

Michael felt a heaviness sit on his chest, as he stepped tentatively towards the person, who seemed to know him. Now, he was no longer in control, as if some thing had attached an invisible binding around his waist, which he was being forced towards this sudden warm, amber glow that appeared unexpectedly. He knew that this situation was dangerous and began to struggle against the overwhelming drag of the mind reaching out to him.

"I can't wait to see you face to face," the voice exclaimed. Its voice grew louder, causing the pounding in Michael's ears to intensify. He stumbled forward, losing all sense of balance. "It's been so long since I've spoken to anyone!" Michael squinted, caused by the sudden exposure to the now, pulsating light in front of him and also the wretching pain that throbbed between his ears. He was overcome by a sense of helplessness, as waves of nausea flooded over him, which deterred him from voicing his pain and fear. "Don't fight...it hurts less that way."

Michael stumbled over his feet and fell onto his knees. He felt the force slacken and allow him a brief respite from its bending will. His breath was shallow and raspy. Michael's throat felt like it was ready to implode from the mind's strength. A dry hacking cough emerged from his weary 'body', hampering his ability to draw sufficient oxygen into his lungs. He rested his moist forehead against the dark, surreal floor underneath him. "What do you want?" he shouted between coughs. "You're killing me!"

The amber light pulsed, illuminating the unseen sphere with such a burst of intensity that Michael had to shield his eyes, fearing it would blind him. When the radiating pulse had subsided, Michael peered out from under his arm and saw that the light had drawn nearer, and would soon be upon him. "I can help you," it said soothingly. "I can take away the pain..."

Michael closed his eyes and braced himself for the impending death he was certain approached by way of that faceless light.

'You must fight.'

Michael frowned. He searched subtly, the empty abyss for the new voice that spoke to him, but all he was confronted by was the looming, foreboding light.

"Only a matter of time now," the amber lit voice soothed. "Soon you won't wander these dark hollows anymore."

Michael felt the heaviness return to him, as if a presence was pushing down upon him, its hot breath bore down his bare neck. He could not think, his mind clouded by an unexpected fear. He was going to die.

'You can defend yourself, MIchael.'

Michael shook his head in protest. He couldn't stop this being, whatever it was; he was out of his element. How could he deal with something without a physical body?

'You must. I have equipped you for fiercer enemies than this.' The tone of the unseen voice was demanding and wielded some unexplainable authority.

Michael swallowed; his throat was dry and longed for the cool, clear life giving fluid that existed outside this dreamscape. "I can't," he gasped. "He's overtaking me." He blinked several times as the amber light now hovered in front of him.

'Depend not on yourself and what you know is at your grasp,;' the gentle voice coaxed. 'But trust in Me.'

As the light expanded, radiating a sudden, scorching heat, Michael felt himself wilt under its exhibition of power. "You have no choice but to come to me," the dark, triumphant voice declared. "You are nothing compared to my indomitable will."

'Do you hear my voice, Michael?' the voice questioned solemnly, as if unconcerned with the imminent figure before him was of no concern to it.

"I hear you," he grimaced. "But the fact that I'm about to die is foremost in my mind right now." His teeth clenched in apprehension and pain.

'If you trust in Me..."

Michael felt himself being enveloped by the creature of light; its energy eating away at his flesh, his mind slowly deteriorating - his essence slowly being stripped away. The amber light grew, as if with each piece of him that disappeared into the blinding radiance fed its insatiable appetite, until it filled every corner of the dark abyss with its presence. Michael strained against the torturous dispirsion of his entire being, using every ounce of strength he had left to extract himself from the frightening menace; but it was too much and he could fight no more. Taking what he thought to be his last breath, Michael surrendered to the unknown machination of death.

Undeniable peace filled his mind as he felt himself floating, hovering in a transiendental plane without state or being, within the silent death. Michael no longer felt the pain or the torturous dissection of his mind; but he was made whole, in a deeper sense than he had ever known before. The amber light was usurped by an indescribable, white light - more pure than he had ever witnessed before.

'I will lead the blind by a road they do not know, by paths they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I will do, and I will not forsake them.'

Michael heard the words uttered from the radiance before him and turned away, its light too bright to look upon. He did not understand what it was, whether he was dead and this was what heaven or hell was like; it was like those stories about entering a white light, yet still, somehow different. Before he could question the voice again - for he had regained his voice - the white light faded and he once again stood in the empty abyss of darkness. He pulse was racing, as was his mind.

What had that been?

Michael furrowed his brow and turned around, in the opposite direction of the 'siren', who had nearly cost him his life, only to find himself standing in front of a dim, cloudy vision.

The outer edge of the image was clouded, as the light rippled across its silky, movie-like screen. He could see Isabel's face under what seemed to be water; her face pale against the wash of a pulsing lavender glow. This had been his dream. Michael stepped forward, reaching out with his hand, believing that there was a possibility of contacting her through this fog of a dream, and tried to step through the projection of wavering images that filled the black void. The image muddled and became distorted, as if he had just touched his reflection in a clear lake, causing a large ripple effect, which impinged on the image of Isabel's limp body, making it dissipate into a collage of colours.

Michael swallowed hard as the image of Isabel floating in some strange glass casing caused an uncomfortable lump to develop in his throat, almost choking him. Though she was hideously ensnared in a prison of glass and water, with black tubes inserted into her nose, mouth and underneath her skin, the one relief it brought him - if he was to believe this was the condition she was in - was that she was alive. Whatever pain and suffering she was enduring at the hands of whatever faceless enemy, she was alive. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He needed to be with her; somehow he needed to reach her.

When he opened his eyes, once again the watery screen had converged into one fluid image, and he could see Isabel's unconscious form floating in the stasis unit. Michael did not attempt to reach out to her through the billowy portal that had been miraculously given to him during his despairing search for answers - what he should do. Still there were no complete answers. As he watched Isabel, who was unable to reach out to him, to speak to him as she once did, his heart began to ache once more. He had been able to set aside his earnest desire to remain with her on Earth, knowing that he would be serving a greater good by returning to Antar, only a few days ago; but now he felt it surge forth with overwhelming force to conquer his duty to the people of Antar.

How was he to save an entire planet when his heart was back on Earth?

~~~

"Turn my eyes away from worthless things; preserve my life according to your word. Fulfill your promise to your servant, so that you may be feared. Take away the disgrace I dread, for your laws are good."

Psalm 119:36-39. Max took a deep breath as the army approached, with its overwhelming numbers, and looked out into the fading horizon. The day had not yet ended; but the previously clear, blue sky clouded over with wisps of grey. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Please God, give me the strength to complete the task you have chosen me to do," he said under his breath; his eyes never left the grey shadow that was inching its way down the rocky terrain. "I don't know what to do..."

Max felt his heart pounding against his chest, so loud that he was certain even his enemy could hear it. HIs fingers closed in on his sweaty palms; and his mind raced for some strategy against the blood thirsty horde. He had lost all confidence and strength after ordering Liz below the surface. The impending battle that approached on quickened feet seemed to finally weigh on him.

How was he going to defeat an army of hundreds? They knew him, even more than he knew himself.

Max inhaled the thickening air, which surrounded him; with the cool, dew of rain carried in on the breeze of the clouds. A distance roll of thunder caught his ear, as the darkness enveloped the hot scorching sands. His chest tightened, as he continued to watch the steadily advancing troops; his breath shortened and he felt a slow ache developing in his right side. Max fell to his knees, bowing his head in submission to the pain; as a trickle of moist perspiration slid down his temple and wetting the copper floor, he could only focus on his breathing.

This is insane. How could I ever have thought I could face a trained army of hundreds of soldiers?

Max shook his head. He felt small and insignificant. Though he had powers only dreamt about in movies and storybooks, he couldn't fathom how he was going to stand against these men. Max groaned. As the word 'men' crossed his mind, he forced himself to glance down into the blurred shadows, focusing on one lone figure, marching in time to the rhythm of the assembly. He couldn't make out facial details, but as he suspected, the figure, as well as the rest of the army, came calling for his blood, in human form.

Khivar's men had somehow found the resources to possess hundreds of male specimens to aid them in their search for him, Isabel, and Michael. Max closed his eyes and ran his fingers through is damp hair. What else could go wrong? He shook his head in anger; it was one thing to come after him and his family, but to use unwitting humans to accomplish their mission was cruel and unthinkable. As he began to pace back and forth on the peak of the plateau, Max's mind churned with a new focus and determination - he had to stop them, whatever the cost. If he didn't win this battle here on Earth, then all was lost on Antar; but how was he going to deal with the mindless host bodies?

Once more, Max looked up towards the heavens, which had turned a foreboding, charcoal grey - dark clouds had draped the once serene skies in a thick veil, shutting out all signs of the previously untouched afternoon. "Will you help me? Or am I running a fool's gambit?" he muttered to himself, while gazing out into the sea of men. Their leader had almost reached the base of the rock formation. "Are you going to have me kill hundreds of men in one fell swoop?"

The idea made him shudder. It could not happen; he couldn't do it. Max closed his eyes to the ominous turn the battle had taken, even before either side had made a strategic move.

Had the battle ended before it had even begun?

~~~

Jesse paced back and forth, as the confining, earthen enclosure was beginning to cause a claustrophobic reaction within him. The minutes passed by at a snail's pace. And when Liz had finally joined him within the hidden alien architecture, she brought nothing but unsettling news; as Max stood atop the precipitous bedrock of his defiant recalcitrance, confronting a foe of unpredictable magnitude.

"What can we do?" he said in exasperation. "We can't just let him face them alone!" He strode towards the narrow entrance and pointed to the growing darkness that had suddenly appeared, which compounded the strained apprehension in his heart.

Liz closed her eyes and tried to stay her irritation at Jesse's obvious statement, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "I know." Her voice was strained with forced civility. "But Max insisted." Liz began to wring her fingers and pace back and forth, as Jesse had been doing when she entered the cool, geometrical abode. "I don't know what we can do right now, but Max seems to know what he's doing right now," she reasoned to Jesse, as a million thoughts flooded her already cluttered mind. She stuffed her hands in her backpocket, in an attempt to stop her fidgeting; but found her right pocket was a forgotten niche for a hard plastic object, which slipped around her fingertip. Liz pulled out the unfamiliar item and placed it in the palm of her hand.

In it, she saw a lime green plastic ring with two small green aliens leaning against each other; with a hard plastic bubble dome, capturing the amusing sight. Liz felt a lump grow in her dry throat. Kyle had won this for her at the fair. It had been the only thing he had won throughout the entire night.

"A token of our friendship," Kyle bowed, presenting her with a ring. He slid the ring on her pinky finger, the only one it would fit on, and wiped his forehead of the perspiration that had developed after earnestly picking out the right floating yellow duck that swam around the narrow stream, which ran around the entire booth. His eyes sparkled; a wide grin materialized upon his boyish face.

Liz bit her bottom lip and slowly closed her trembling fingers around the cheap, mass-produced trinket and pressed her hand against her lips. Kyle. She had left everything on such bad terms. Her heart skipped a beat when she allowed her thoughts to trail down an unthinkable path. Liz shook her head and clenched her jaw.

No. He was coming back. She would have a chance to apologize for his heartfelt attempt to advise her. Kyle would live, as well as Maria and the others.

~~~

"You're a lucky child." Nicholas briefly glanced at the dark-haired child, whose strange blue eyes twinkled against his fair complexion. He turned back towards the semi-transluscent, greyish-silver globe that was suspended in the air by two black clawlike hands, which emerged from the shadowed opening in the ceiling and floor, and admired the work of art. The contraption Khivar's architects had built was unimpressive to the mere observer's eye; but the power it yielded was unimaginable - if in the right hands. "You really should be honored," he reflected out loud, as he circled the genius that would make galaxies bow before the once-dismissed Antarian. "Not everyone was created for such a task."

"Daaaaaaaa," the baby gurgled, reaching out from the sleek, body contouring, cushion seat.

Nicholas stopped in his tracks, by the baby's innocent cry. His head leaned towards the non-stop jabber of the unsuspecting child; his gaze slowly scanned the room until it met the excitable child's inquisitive eyes. He took a few tentative steps toward the child, who had been put under his care; and as his heart began to palpitate in an unusual rhythm. As he approached the incarnation of his mortal enemies, Nicholas swallowed hard; his eyes narrowed and he leaned over the smiling child, until his nose was close enough to smell the familiar scent of Iturian wildberries on his breath.

"What are you trying to do to me?" Nicholas whispered, as one of Zander's small palms pressed against his cheek. "I cannot help you." He straightened up quickly, as if remaining in close proximity to the child could, somehow, inherently lead him somewhere he didn't want to be. Nicholas turned his back on the child, and in doing so, was confronted by the machination of power that

[jayta]

continued.....


"What are you trying to do to me?" Nicholas whispered, as one of Zander's small palms pressed against his cheek. "I cannot help you." He straightened up quickly, as if remaining in close proximity to the child could, somehow, inherently lead him somewhere he didn't want to be. Nicholas turned his back on the child, and in doing so, was confronted by the machination of power that loomed over them.

"It must be done." His voice was resolute.

Nicholas walked towards the machine, as if he was drawn by some magnetic force. "It's all been planned."

~~~

"Have we heard anything from General Qunar?" Khivar barked to the unsuspecting lieutenant, who had appeared for his evening shift in the communication's centre.

"Uh..I-I don't know sir," the lieutenant stuttered, as he slighly cowered under Khivar's intense scrutiny.

Khivar growled in frustration and apprehension. "Why have we not heard from him?"

"Sir," a skinny, pale officer said loudly and curtly; as a soldier would address his commander. "General Qunar would probably be engaging our enemy in battle at this moment." As soon as he finished injecting his own insight, the lieutenant saluted and sat down at his communication station, and returned to his work.

Khivar thought about his last conference with the General and nodded.

It made sense. When they had last spoken, Qunar had informed them that they had captured Vilandra and several human hostages - people who were close to Zan. It had brought him a sense of triumph and joy, as he could almost taste the victory at his grasp.

Zan had been caught unawares, and this had made it easier for Qunar to execute Khivar's plan. Even though he had received disconsolate news about Rath and Ava's return to Antar, and their unknown whereabouts, Qunar's quickness against Zan would bring his plan to fruition. He would be Ruler of all of Sentris Onaxis.

Zan was weak. His hybrid form would crumble under Qunar's army's agile and debilitating strikes, and would have the 'dead king' buried in his grave for the last time. Khivar clasped his hands together and pressed them against his thin lips.

Yes, yes. The Prophecy would be seen as a fraud, when he had broadcast the final minutes of the Loyalists' 'Great King''s' life.

~~~

'Give me strength'

Tess tossed and turned in her bed, sleeping restlessly.

Max stood upon the edge of a cliff; his usually intense dark eyes stared out into the distance, as if seeing a despairing image or terrifying event. Tess turned and tried to see what he saw, but nothing would allow her focus to leave Max's uncertain and trepidatious face. She was unable to discern what exactly held him in this state of fear, but part of her knew that his feelings were real, and what he faced was one of the defining moments in his life. Her heart beat against her chest in time with his, as she stood at his side; he was completely unaware of her presence.

"Max?" she whispered into his ear, as she consciously slipped her cool fingers into his palm, squeezing ever so gently. "I'm here."

Max's eyes flickered, as if in recognition; though his gaze never left whatever lay ahead.

Tess furrowed her brow and leaned in closer, pressing her body against his arm, as she allowed herself to indulgently run her fingers through the back of his hair, and whispered in his hear once more. "Whatever it is, Max, I know you can face it. You are stronger than this." She paused, biting the bottom of her lip, as she tried to understand what trial or test he was confronted by. "You once asked me why I believed in you so much, and I told you it was because you were probably one great husband?" Tess closed her eyes and licked her lips, recalling the familiar images of her past. He had been a great husband - loving, kind, and passionate. She felt her heart skip a beat at the fond memories. At one time, they had brought her comfort and hope.

How she had missed him!

Suddenly Tess opened her eyes and stared up at Max's unchanged expression; her whole soul and body, alive with hope and understanding. "Well that's not true anymore," she breathed, squeezing his hand tightly. "I don't believe in you because of the man you were; but I believe in you because of the man you are." Her blood raced within her veins, warming every inch of her body, making her skin tingle. Tess strained upwards, as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips on his cheek. "I love you Maxwell, because you are the Chosen One; and your people believe in you. Even though you're world's away, know that we are waiting for you to come home."

Tess relaxed her body, and stood flatfooted before Max. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. There was no telling what this vision or dream meant; or whether it was happening at all. As she let out a ragged breath, Tess felt an almost imperceptible caress. When she looked up, Max's dark brooding eyes met her uncertain gaze. His hand, which was grasped tightly in hers, slipped out from under it, and reached up tenderly; his fingertips slightly grazed her cheek, sending a spine-tingling chill down her back.

"Max," she whispered, her voice barely audible; as his reaction caught her offguard - dream or not.

Tess closed her eyes and she felt his tentative hands cup her face, bringing his face closer to hers, until they were only inches apart. She swallowed hard; it had been long since he had touched her like this. When she opened her eyes, Maxwell's gaze was riveted to hers; they were both frozen in time.

"Tess," Max said solemnly. "Thank you."

Tess blinked, uncertain of his words; she opened her mouth to speak, but Max pressed his thumb against them, halting her questions. He straightened up and smiled softly. "You were the answer to my prayers."

With that, Max faded from view and she stood alone once more.

~ * ~

"Max!" Tess sat up, awaking from her dream; her breathing was uneven and shallow. She surveyed her surroundings and reorientated herself. Her hand brushed back the loose curls that fell into her eyes, leaving her hand resting against the back of her neck. The rise and fall of her chest slowed, as she leaned back against the wall behind her, while taking deep breaths after the indecipherable dream.

What had it meant? What did it mean?

Tess closed her eyes and licked her dry lips. Her whole body was alive after her encounter with Max. His warm, soft hand against her face...it had been so comforting and powerfully real. His words - they held such gratitude, and even, tenderness - echoed in her thoughts.

'You were the answer to my prayers.'

Tess pulled the warm sheets against her chest and bit the inside of her cheek. Max. Her silent cry was now filled with some measure of hope. As she stared up towards the distant heavens, her body shivered. A thickness developed in her throat, where a slight strain began to tug at the base of it. Tess pulled her knees up towards her chest, hugging them; she gently began rocking herself, as her thoughts were consumed with images - memories of Max. She rested her forehead against her knees; squeezing her eyes tightly in an attempt to stop the tears that were forming, her body began to convulse. Finally, Tess collapsed in a flood of tears.

She needed him. Oh how she needed him. Tess knew she could not do this without him. Maxwell was her other half; she knew that with every fibre of her being.

Tess wiped away the tears, which stained her cheeks. She stared up at the endless expanse above her, and let out a feeble, choked sigh. She was tired of lying to everyone, including herself.

Swallowing hard, Tess cleared her throat and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I...I know I haven't tried to understand you," she said slowly, unsure of how to approach this 'Being' that had been slowly wearing her down, until she was ready to surrender. She had reached that point, now. "But I don't know where else to turn." Her voice had now become a whisper, as her tears began to well up inside again. Tess hastily wiped away a stray tear from the corner of her eye and turned back to this 'God' who had gotten her into this predicament.

Tess took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I need him." Her voice cracked.

She licked her lips and tried to regain her composure, while speaking to someone, who for all purposes, was invisible. He was the first to hear her voice, what in her heart, seemed impossible, her heart's desire. Never would she allow such a complete breakdown, except under the veil of a closed room, with a Deity that would never reveal her secret.

"I don't know how to talk to you," she blurted out, shaking her head. "But if you're there...I need Max. I don't want my son to be fatherless. I don't want to live without him." Tess reached over to her nightstand and pulled out a thin, silky, paper mesh square; she blew her nose and wiped the relapsing tears from her cheek. "God, why does it have to be so hard?" The frustration in her voice was only tentamount to the hope she had received from her vision.

Her shoulders drooped; she was tired of holding herself together - in the presence of others and in the quietness of her private room. Tess struggled to understand where she stood with this 'God', whom she still held a reservation about, and how he was to communicate with her - if he desired that at all.

As she sat in her bed, the events of the day, and the physical activities she participated in seemed to catch up with her. Tess yawned, and forced her eyes to remain open. There was still so many unfinished details she wanted to discuss with 'him'.

"How long do I have to wait?" she asked tiredly, snuggling under her warm covers. "Can't you just give me a time frame?"

Prayer seemed like the only way to communicate with this 'God', which was tiring; she had never heard so much silence in her life. Tess glanced up towards the small portal above her bed and groaned. "I want to believe." There was a hesitancy in her voice. "But I'm running a little short on...faith, so if you could just, maybe help me out in that department." Tess paused."Fadilia seems to have a overflowing abundance of it...maybe if just a little could rub off on me..."

Suddenly her head bobbed forward, and Tess snapped her head up in surprise - unaware that she was ready to drop from exhaustion. Tess rested her eyes for a moment, relieving the stinging ache that had developed behind her eyes. She was too tired to think or debate the idea of a 'Higher Power' at work in her life. The dream or vision had lifted her spirits, but also brought more questions; she couldn't focus, let alone find any answers, in the state she was in.

Tess sighed, letting her entire body relax - laying back on her pillow. Her eyes flitted, as the weight of her weary body finally overwhelmed her, causing her eyelids to slowly lower and close. "Oh Max," she muttered, almost incoherently. "You could...a-answer my prayers, too." Her voice trailed off, as she fell back into an undisturbed slumber.


*********

Chapter Fifty Eight

***
Nothing has more strength than dire necessity.
- Euripides
***

Kyle stumbled forward, along with the others, as they were paraded to the forefront of the throng of soldiers; and everything seemed so surreal to him at the moment. He clasped Maria's trembling hand in his as they reached their destination. The surroundings were familiar; he had been here before.

He studied the shadowy rock formations and the cliffs that enclosed around them. The sudden, stark tumultuous skies that seemed to encroach upon them like a lion stalking its prey, looming over them as if warning them against the dangers that accompanied their captors. It sent a chill through him.

A subtle, but hasty tug caught Kyle's attention, as Maria leaned in close to his side. "Do you know where we are?" she said through clenched teeth. Her eyes darted around the almost imperceptible landscape and its' familiar landmarks.

Kyle leaned in and glanced briefly back at the watchful guards, who never let him and the others stray more than five paces ahead. He nodded and turned his gaze forward, to the noticeable peak jutting out into the sky, where a warm, soft glow came - different than from the rolling, rumbling clouds that had followed them from camp. As he strained his neck forward, Kyle squinted and tried to make out the pinnacle of Max, Isabel, Michael, and Tess' hideaway - a location he had always tried to avoid - which oriented him to their location.

"We're close to the cave," he whispered, trying to avoid attracting the attention of the large, intimidating men standing behind them.

A look of unexpectancy, along with a mixture of relief and fear crossed her smooth, fair face - her dark defined eyes twitched, unable to decide which emotion to convey. "So do you think we're gonna get out of this...without any," she paused, flicking a stray piece of hair over her shoulder. Maria leaned over, keeping her eyes on the guards, who were staring at them intently, and swallowed before finishing her thought. "You know...alive?" Her voice trembled at the last word.

Kyle glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who were huddled together, staring, awestruck at the events of the past several hours - soon to lead them in an unexpected, momentous revelation. If Max was at the cave, as he suspected - since no other explanation would explain the glow radiating from the hidden cave - then the secret Max and Isabel had been concealing from their adopted parents would be exposed in mere minutes, whether by Max's own volition, or by the provocation of the unseen commander of this legion of men.

Just as he was about to answer Maria's question, Kyle stumbled - his left shoulder dropped forward, as his head jerked back, involuntarily; a tall figure loomed over him, as he turned back to confront whoever had propelled him forward in such a forceful manner.

"What are you gonna do?" a deep voice goaded.

Kyle gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes; as he was about to speak, he felt an urgent force, wrench his whole body backwards. Swiftly, he turned to face the aggravating individual, who interrupted the satisfaction he was about to take. Maria's eyes stared alarmingly after him, as his heart was pumping adrenaline into his body causing him to breathe heavily, as if he had just finished a sprint. Suddenly his heart slowed, as he realized she was trying to draw his attention to the white haze that was expanding out towards the army.

"Move!" one of the guards barked, as if receiving abrupt orders from his commander. The dark, bulky Hispanic soldier shoved him forward with the end of his grey metal staff, which many of the officers carried - no guns in sight.

Kyle glared at him, as he began slowly moving forward - out into the open desert; where there was nothing but a few wild, straggly bushes and brittle trees - while keeping a close eye on Maria and the Evans', as a few other guards stepped menacingly towards them, causing them to shrink back and follow suit. When the soldiers seemed satisfied with their location, they stepped back from Kyle and the other three. He frowned, as he glanced behind him, seeing the stoic soldiers standing at attention, several feet away. It disturbed him.

Something is up.

~~~

Max opened his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if he had been holding his breath unconsciously. He swallowed hard; the trance he had fallen into had seemed to come out of nowhere. As he surveyed his surroundings, Max found himself in the same location - overlooking the massive army of men advancing against him - but his fear had gone. Tess' words of encouragement, as unexpected as they were, had filled him with a renewed sense of hope. Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath - it was not going to be by strength, which he would take victory from the army of men who stood more than a hundred yards away. He fell to his knees and looked up to the unimposing white light that was surfacing from under the veil of grey.

"'I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.'" Max bowed his head and sat back on his heels. "O Lord, I need you now. You have brought me to this moment; I commit this battle, which I wage in Your Name tonight, to you. Only you shall give me success..." His heart neither slowed, nor raced during this time with God, as he faced the One who had called him, and asked him to guide his steps and give him victory.

Max took one last deep breath; before opening his eyes to the same image, which had him in panic and doubt minutes ago, and seeing with new eyes the glory and triumph that lay before him. He rested his hands on his knees and pushed himself up to his feet. Max stretched out his arms towards the heavens and praised the One who had promised him victory.

As if in response to his silent words, the light of the moon pushed through the billowing grey arms of fog and shone in its resplendent brilliance. Max drank in the warmth that emanated from the celestial body; like a gift from God, he felt his spirit lifted and renewed. The God, who created such a beautiful thing, was about to transform his nearsighted, uninspired mind, body, and spirit into something new. Just as his body had been reborn under Antarian hands, now he was about to be reborn, in Spirit, through the One who made all things good.

Max swept his arms forward, until his hands were held out straight in front of him, with his palms facing him. "Come General." His voice took a calm, strange lilting rhythm. "I am no longer afraid. I have embraced the One who has called me; and He will consume all of you."

~~~

"What is happening?" the General demanded urgently. "What is going on?"

As he peered down at his monitor, the General could see a fearless Zan, standing defiantly, beckoning to him. In his mind, he could hear Zan's voice taunting him; warning him of his impending destruction.

'Oh how the walls of the house of Ituria will crumble.'

The General closed his mind and blocked out the insane ramblings of the hybrid king. He shook his head. He has come undone. There was no other explanation for the sudden confidence that had come upon this inexperienced Antarian and human abomination. He was certain that the full extent of his powers had not been imbued to him; the Antarian 'Way of Awakening' had always been upon the eve of the Festival of the New Moons.

"No," he muttered to himself. "He is still vulnerable. Whether he remembers how to use his powers or not - he can still die." The General called Captain Leisner to his side. "Advance our men into position. We will spill his blood on this ungodly land tonight."

~~~

"Liz, Maria and Kyle are out there!" Jesse cried, spotting them during his fortieth turn, in what was an anxious pace. He squinted as a sudden haze began to fall upon the clear vista of the desert plain. "Where did this smog come from?"

Liz rushed to his side, stepping out onto the ledge of the cavern entrance. Her neck strained, as her eyes scanned the desert terrain for signs of her two best friends. She shook her head in confusion as the smoky haze hovered inches from the ground, hiding any and all signs of the army, let alone her helpless friends. "Where did you see them?" Her voice was breathy and tense. Liz continued to strain her eyes, trying to see through the dense smog for any indication that Jesse had not just been hallucinating things. "Where were they standing?" she asked tersely.

Jesse shook his head and straightened his posture. "You can't see anything through that damn fog!" he declared in frustration. Closing his eyes, Jesse took a deep breath and let it out in one loud rush, while running his fingers through his thick hair. "What the heck is going on?"

A sickening feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't seen any sign of Isabel. Although he had only managed a brief glance at the group of prisoners, Jesse knew that Isabel was not among the strewn group of disheveled humans, in comparison to the tightly knit companies of soldiers. Something had happened to her.

“Who was in the group?” Liz asked fiercely, as she grabbed Jesse by the soldiers, trying to make him focus on her.

Jesse stared blankly at Liz.

“Who was in the group?” Liz repeated more forcefully.

Jesse blinked a couple of times before his mind seemed to even register her question. “Uh..um, I saw Maria and Kyle clearly,” he stammered, while picturing in his mind the miniature figures of his friends. He closed his eyes and rubbed his tired lids. “Uh…a-and I think Isabel’s parents were right behind them.”

Liz swallowed hard. He hadn’t seen Isabel. She was sure Jesse was worried sick about Isabel. This surreal army of aliens, possessing human bodies, made her skin crawl; but what made this worse now, was she was unable to see them at all. Her eyes trailed upward. Max had been up on the rocky peak for what seemed like hours.

Liz was uncertain of his state of mind. He had seemed so confident, as he stood overlooking the looming power-driven army and ordered her to leave his side, but part of her knew he had to be scared – full of doubt. She couldn’t believe he wanted to do this alone. Liz ran her fingers through her hair, which felt course and gritty from the dust and grime within the cave.

How could one man be expected to defeat an army?

~~~

Isabel felt the warm comforting arms leave her side; and as she stared up at the cool, light airy space where He had met her, a small pinpoint appeared that seemed to be expanding. She frowned and spun around, pulling herself up onto her feet. “What’s happening?” she asked breathlessly.

‘You have to go now, Isabel.’

Isabel pulled the straggling clips of her bangs back from her eyes and shook her head. “What do you mean I have to leave?” Her heart groaned at the thought of leaving this place of light and rest. “I don’t want to leave,” she cried out into the fading light.

‘They need you.’

Isabel lowered her head, her brow furrowing in restless thought, and bit her bottom lip.

They…

Suddenly a barrage of images and memories came flooding over her: Max’s brooding expression; she felt his clinging arms wrapped around her as he had told her of his child’s possible death. She mouthed regretful words, as rage towards Maxwell filled her entire body, when the memory of Max’s command for her to remain in Roswell after Alex’s death surfaced. Her connection to her brother was again, recognized deep within her.

He was one of them.

Then once again, Isabel’s body was jarred by another’s face. It was ashen and moist. Long dark lashes defined his otherwise, strong, yet fair face. His lips were parted slightly, and he tossed restlessly. Her slender fingers pressed a cold cloth against his forehead. Unexpectedly, she heard her tortured voice cry out, ‘He needs me’.

Michael.

Isabel bit her lip as another memory surfaced from his familiar face. Michael sat across from her with a solemn face. The words he spoke sent a shiver throughout her body. ‘You belong with me.’ Her lips parted, allowing a warm escape of breath.

He was another.

Deep in thought, Isabel was then abruptly jolted from the memories of two of the most important men in her life. A pair of blue eyes stared intensely at her. Soon, the image of a slender blonde accompanied those piercing eyes. Isabel heard snippets of girlish conversations about boys echo in the back of her mind. Their laughter intermingled in a melodious harmony.

Suddenly the tone changed. Images of tired and frustrated conversations between herself and this girl flashed before her eyes. The feeling of resentment and anger inundated Isabel’s senses, only for it to subside, and an unexpected sense of comradery and kinship to take its place.

Tess.

They…

Isabel’s eyes opened wide, as a sharp intake of breath filled her lungs. Again, she stood in the boundless plane, without structure or shape. Only the rhythmic tempo of her shallow breath broke the silence that filled the now-empty locale. “They need me,” she whispered urgently.

~~~

“Why did I have to get stuck here?” Captain Dilkar mumbled, as he watched the bluish grey squares crescendo and decrescendo upon his black monitor. His eyes glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious, soon-to-be-carcass, floating in the stasis unit. “I always get the dull, monotonous duties!” He drummed his fingers against the metal surface, while resting his head against the palm of his other hand. “Just because I had one little accident with the General’s dashka…”

The brute size of the blonde, Nordic bodybuilder had suited Dilkar just fine. The human host was the perfect physical specimen. Dilkar had been elated and was willing to overlook the only defect - his lack of vision - that could be corrected with the help clear concave lenses. As he was adapting to his need for those irritable pintsize items of slime, Dilkar had accidentally come across the General’s dashka.

“It was an honest mistake,” he grumbled, pushing himself out from behind the sleep-inducing screen. “It’s not like I meant to break it and then step on it.”

Dilkar trudged into the General’s enter of operations, where the stasis unit had been assembled. He stalked over to the floating figurine. His eyes narrowed and he stuck his tongue out at the dull nuisance. “I mean you don’t even speak!” Dilkar glanced around the secure facility, making sure there were no stray officers lurking about, before pressing his face against the glass pane. After creating several contorted expressions at the lifeless form, he stepped back from the glass unit and shook his head. “You’re as fun as watching a capaechea in a kii,” he groaned.

Dilkar turned on his heel to return to his station when a rumbling sound emanated from the stasis unit. He stopped midstride, frowning at the unexpected noise. Turning around slowly, he cocked his head to the side and stared suspiciously at the woman, who was supposedly the incarnation of Princess Vilandra. Waiting a moment to ascertain whether he was just imagining things or not, the same rumblings occurred again, except in front of him. The liquid held in the stasis unit usually remained unmoved, as the prisoner was in no position to cause any ripples; but before his eyes, Dilkar watched as several air bubbles rise from the thin black tubing that allowed oxygen into the hybrid’s system. It had never occurred before, which made him tense. He watched and waited silently, his breath held for any signs of movement from the otherwise, serene captive. As the air bubbles disappeared at the surface of the stasis unit, it caused a low rumbling sound. Dilkar took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. There was nothing wrong. He was unusually jumpy today.

He chided himself for being such a lily-livered wuss. Dilkar stopped midstride. Wuss? He chuckled silently.

These humans have an unusual turn-of-phrase.

Just as he settled back into his cushioned seat, Dilkar thought to glance back once more at the figure, which now set him ill-at-ease, just to put his mind at ease. As Dilkar spun around in the swivel chair to observe the prisoner, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sudden dip in the life monitor of Princess Vilandra. Instinctively he rose to his feet and turned in time to see a flurry of clear tiny bubbles rise from the bottom of the stasis unit. Its fragile form spun with such a fury, that a silky, white foam topped the spinning dervish. Dilkar’s gaze snapped to Princess Vilandra; in amidst the throws of a self-contained squall, her body remained still and lifeless.

Suddenly a low rolling sound filled the room. Dilkar watched as the whirling chaos of white foam seemed to envelop the floating slender frame – the thin light foam inching its way up her delicate neck, until her sallow, yet painted china doll-like face was hidden behind a veil of white. His whole body was alert and prepared for any possible attack or deluge from the seemingly isolated chambers.

The rumbling stopped without notice, and the once clear chamber was now a textured veil of white foam. Dilkar was unsure of what to make of the situation. The purple light which lit the stasis unit continued to pulse in a slow, rhythmic cadence. And as the light shone against the veil of white, a shadowy figure could be seen underneath the liquid curtain.

“Aw, come on! Is that all you’ve got?” Dilkar yelled forcefully, though his voice cracked under the strain. He swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, preparing for an attack from any direction. From the hook of his belt, he slipped out a blackish grey metal baton, which was only about seven inches long. “Come out Vilandra!” His eyes darted around the entire room for any hint of an escape. “You’re weak; and I would be grateful for a tale to pass onto my future children and children’s children!” he taunted maliciously. “How Captain Dilkar single-handedly brought the demise of one of the Royal Four! Doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?”

Dilkar licked his lips and a sly smirk appeared on his thin lips. “We don’t have forever, Princess!” he sang.

Dilkar waited for his taunts and remarks to bear fruit, but there was only silence; even the pulsing cadence of the stasis unit had seemed to fade into a dim glow. He swallowed hard. He loosened his grip on the elkarl, a weapon borne only by captains in Khivar’s army; and his rhythmic sway slowed, until he stood perfectly still in front of the stasis unit. Dilkar shook his head in disgust. “I really thought you had something up your sleeve,” he spat, turning his back on the one of the ‘threats’ to Khivar’s throne.

As he stalked away from the unit, a group of seven soldiers entered the facility. Dilkar paused and beckoned them over to the strange phenomenon. “You’re not going to believe what happened here,” he growled. “An attempt to place fear into our army.” He laughed with disdain.

The group of soldiers, varying in height and size – one as petite as to mistake him for a woman up to a man as large and round as a balloon – looked curiously at the strange sight, and joined in the laughter.

“Really, Dilkar?” one soldier chuckled. “Did you run scared like last time, on the Dunes of Telbar?” The strawberry-haired man, in his late 30’s eyed him wearily.

Dilkar glared menacingly at Holphar’s distasteful reminder of one of his more, well known blunders. He took a step forward and drew his weapon, which caused the lower ranking Captain to shrink back. “Do I need remind you of your place, Holphar?” Dilkar asked through clenched teeth.

The older man backed away, as several of the other soldiers held Dilkar at bay. “He’s just shooting his mouth off, Dilkar,” one of the soldiers dismissed.

Dilkar allowed the moment to pass, as he relaxed his body, turning his attention back to the stasis unit. “We should just cut off the air supply,” he muttered. “She’s just another thing we have to transport back to Antar, once the General finishes with Zan.”

The soldiers groaned in agreement. “Why Khivar even thought they were a threat is beyond me,” another soldier commented.

Dilkar laughed and nodded understandably at his assessment of Khivar’s over-zealousness of the Seer’s ‘Prophecy’. “You do not have to explain that to me,” he laughed heartily.

~~~

Isabel opened her eyes and found herself enveloped in white. She could not orient herself, and struggled under the weight of the fluid, which enveloped her. The tubes that fed oxygen into her system choked her, as she was fighting to breathe on her own. Fear filled her body as she felt herself drowning in a sea of air.

Her mind and body screamed silently, as she felt trapped, suffocated in a wall of white. She closed her eyes, trying to allow herself the intake of oxygen to think clearly.
Isabel, then suddenly discovered that as soon as she stopped struggling for breath through her regular respiratory system, she was able to breathe regularly – sort of. She felt her body relax and she was able to orientate herself to her environment.

Isabel could hear several voices, though one voice seemed more familiar than the others. The louder, more obnoxious voice approached her prison and then suddenly faded back again. Isabel tried to remember what had happened – how had she gotten here? The voices remained outside of her prison, speaking boisterously.

Suddenly her mind flashed with memories of strange men breaking into her parents’ house, and as she was about to use her powers, they drugged her – knocking her out cold. Isabel swallowed hard. Kyle, Maria, and Jesse were there also. Were they safe?

Isabel was then overwhelmed by memories of while she had been unconscious – or in some transient state. Seeing Max, speaking with him – she had done that while in this narrow chamber. She knew it was Khivar’s doing – all of this.

Isabel closed her eyes and searched the recesses of her mind for other memories. As she delved into herself images of a white light filled her mind, and a warm comforting strength filled her body as if someone had wrapped their arms around her. Then she remembered it all. Why she had come back…

For them

She had to get out of there.

Isabel closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on the warm energy that remained in her chilled body; but as she tried to focus, her mind wandered and she became lightheaded. Opening her eyes, she saw stars before her. Whatever had been poured into her veins through the tubes that clung to her had made her weak and drained her powers.

Her tears were absorbed into the prison of liquid.

There had to be a way out.

Isabel closed her eyes and asked for the strength to escape this Iturian prison. Once more she closed her eyes and this time, images of Khivar filled her mind. She felt disgust and loathing as she remembered his touch on her skin, his charming, yet deceitful tongue, which had seduced her into betraying everyone she had loved. Isabel remembered how Khivar had killed Rath in front of her eyes and showed no remorse; in fact, he delighted in the act. All of these images, thoughts and memories flooded her mind, creating within her a raw, feral anger and hate for the creature who had done this to her and her family.

Suddenly Isabel found herself encompassed in a dark violet globe of energy. From every pore, pure energy flowed out, expanding the energy’s sphere. She watched as the white foam, which had cushioned her, dispersed, revealing a glass wall, which had her prison for an undetermined amount of days or even weeks – she had no clue. Isabel took one last deep breath and extended her arms out, with her palms pressed forward, as if to direct the momentum of the energy field.

~~~

Rumble.

Dilkar turned around to face the stasis unit. He frowned, nudging a few of the near by soldiers. “Watch this,” he muttered, stepping forward, only a few metres a way from the cloud of foam. “Are you trying to say something?” He glanced gleefully at his comrades and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you give it a rest?” he glowered, turning on his heel and walking towards his fellow soldiers.

As Dilkar went to join his friends, he noticed a sudden change in their expression – one of jovial mirth to uncertainty and fear. Dilkar spun around in time to see the pulsing glow of lavender had unexplainably darkened to a royal violet; and again, a rumbling noise was sounding from the stasis unit, except this time it was louder and more fervent. Dilkar opened his mouth to speak, but the explosion of water and glass put a halt to anymore of his taunts.

~~~

She felt the glass buckle and give way.

The energy blast was blinding, illuminating the whole room. Isabel had to shield her eyes from its brilliance, as she freed herself from her glass cage. Her body, which was suspended in the containment unit by the liquid, fell to the ground, in a pool of water, foam, and glass. Isabel was numb, unable to feel pain or even the joy of her release. As she faded in and out of consciousness, out of the corner of her eye, she could see many bodies strewn across the floor, unconscious or dead. Licking her wet lips, Isabel tried lifting her head up and standing, but her body collapsed from under her.

Max…Michael…

Isabel lurched forward, when the jagged edge of the shattered glass pressed against the palm of her hand, slid along the wet surface underneath her. She heard the crunch of glass as her head hit the ground - unable to hold her head up any longer. The last image caught in her mind, as she fell into darkness, was the tiny, delicate sparkling of glass along the floor littered with bodies.

~~~

Michael…

Michael jerked his head up, as a sudden chill filled his body. He furrowed his brow, as his eyes darted around the room. “Isabel?” he whispered softly and uncertainly.

He had hardly had any sleep; and when he did, it was restless – tossing and turning from dark dreams. After a few hours, Michael finally gave up and began studying several maps and blueprints of Saren Dari and Khivar’s citadel. If he could possibly push aside his fears and worries for Isabel and focus on the task at hand, something might be accomplished in their quest to overthrow Khivar.

Yet…

His mind refused to forget those smooth chocolate eyes, which smiled at him, so defined and intense. Michael’s fingers curled into a tight fist, as he leaned over the blueprints of the citadel. He closed his eyes and let out a weary sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, he shook his head sharply and gazed down at the glowing flat screen. His eyes were tired from staring so intently at the screen.

“If you have hurt one hair on her head…” Michael growled at an invisible Khivar, as his mind was wracked with images of her cold lifeless body. He turned his attention back to the illuminated map of Saren Dari, which was sketchy at best, and furrowed his brow as he recalled the deserted, barren plains.

They would need to formulate exacting plans, if they were going into the almost unmapped territory.

Though one of the Loyalist spies had scouted the area, he had been unable to clearly indicate where the main headquarters was, which held the project called ‘Pilan’, and the secret base appeared to be built on a massive scale, so as to take days to locate any weapon of destruction. “Damn it!” He shouted into the pitch black room.

“You’ll wake up your neighbors, if you keep yelling like that.”

Michael snapped his head up to see Tess standing with her arms folded across her chest, wearing a wry grin.

~~~

It was a cool morning when she rose to begin the new day. Tess was anxious for the day to begin. General Steren had promised their rescue mission to Saren Dari would be plotted out after a good night’s rest. Through her sleep could have been described as ‘less than restful’, her body and spirit felt unusually light, as if some hopeful expectation had been given to her.

Her first thought, when she arose, was to check up on Michael. Tess knew he had less than a peaceful sleep, if in fact, he had slept at all. Now as she stood in the entranceway of the imperceptibly dark room - the only light emitting from a sleek black table - where Michael’s broad frame was outlined by the bluish-white light, and his fatigued expression was even more obvious.

“Have you slept at all?” she asked worriedly, as she stepped carefully into the room, speaking voice commands to the automated lighting system.

The warm yellow luminescence of lights hummed as she strode towards Michael’s workstation, where there were papers and various technological machinations strewn across the cold, flat metal table; it took up half of his quarters, with only a small corner for his sleeping area. Tess peered over his shoulder, following his gaze down towards the large flat monitor built within the workstation surface. “What are you doing?” she asked calmly.

His body was tense, and he did not even bother to acknowledge her questions. Tess could sense his complete disregard for her presence, completely focused on a screen filled with lines and various informative notes scribbled haphazardly. She leaned forward with a furrowed brow, as she studied the indiscriminate fluorescent markings, made by someone’s hand and inputted into a computer. Tess recognized the data; it was an outline of Saren Dari.

Part of her was bolstered at the sight of Michael’s interest in rescuing her family; however, as she glanced briefly at Michael’s determined expression, she could foresee the toll it would take on him.

“Michael.” Her tone was firm, but gentle. She squeezed his shoulder, hoping to reach him in the concentrated trance he was in.

In what seemed to take hours, Tess watched as Michael slowly drifted out of the eerie preoccupation he was in. His small dark eyes dilated as they finally focused on her. “Tess?” Michael frowned in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Tess grabbed the seat of his chair and swiveled his body around, until he faced her – his body squared with hers. She straightened up and tilted her head slightly, gazing at Michael’s blanched face. “What are you doing to yourself?” she whispered apprehensively. “I came to get you, before I met General Steren in the stratagem room, and I find you glued to this screen. What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” Michael propelled himself backwards, pressing his hands against his cheeks, squeezing his eyes closed. He let out a loud groan, as he stood up and stretched his arms outwards. “I was trying to figure out the best method of attack on Saren Dari.”

Tess watched as Michael waved her off, dismissing her concern for his mental and physical status of health.

“I think the best tactic is to sneak in through the cargo bay, and split up into teams,” he continued. “We have a better chance, even if Khivar discovers one of us, because the guards would concentrate on the one, leaving the other teams free to locate Andaria and Zander.”

Tess nodded slowly as he walked away, into the bathroom, apparently to clean himself up. “Sounds like the makings of a plan,” she drawled, following Michael to the doorway of his bathroom. “But what about this vision you had about Isabel?” She paused a moment, unsure of whether this subject might disturb him even more. “You can’t be focused, when you’ve got those images in your head,” she noted quietly.

“I’m fine,” he replied tersely, his voice dropping an octave.

“You don’t look it, Michael.”

His head snapped around to meet her gaze. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His pulse quickened, and she saw his anger flash across his face. “I know what I have to do,” he stated, detached, devoid of emotion. “We’ll take care of Andaria and Zander…” His gaze returned to the image of his own reflection in the spotless, burnished mirror – his expression blank. “Isabel is strong…like you said,” he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of his own words. “Max will take care…” His voice trailed off.

“Michael.” Tess stepped forward in an attempt to comfort him, but he interrupted her, squeezing past her and grabbing his uniform jacket off of his bed.

“General Steren is waiting for us,” he stated, slipping on his jacket. “We should get going.”

“Stop it, Michael.” She stared at him in disbelief. “Don’t pretend that everything is fine with you. I can feel it killing you inside.”

Michael gazed at her with a stony expression. “We’re here to accomplish our task, which is to save your mother and son from certain death,” he answered with unemotional purpose. “Emotions get in the way.” He motioned towards the door. “Let’s do what we can, and stop wishing about things we have no control over anymore.”

Tess shook her head; her whole body strained in protest at the ‘wrongness’ of it all. She knew he was putting on a wax façade, trying to hide behind the mask of his military detachment. Soldiers did not show emotion.

The idea made her want to shake him. How could he pretend that nothing was wrong? That he wasn’t dying inside to know whether Isabel was safe or not? Tess closed her eyes and swallowed hard. After taking a deep breath, she gazed up at Michael, who stood with one hand pointing to the door – the still detached expression plastered upon his face. She gritted her teeth and swallowed the urge to press this any further. She knew from the look on Michael’s face - he was determined to be ‘strong’ about the whole situation and focus on the present and what troubles lay ahead. And Tess would accept this rationale…for now. It was a defense mechanism, which allowed him to deal with his emotions and the helplessness he felt – Tess knew all about that. But she wouldn’t let it rest forever.

“Fine.” Tess sighed and strode towards the door, walking past Michael and out into the cool hallways of the mountain base. “But in the end, we’re all going to have to deal with this, Michael. We all care about what happens to Isabel and Max,” she commented offhandedly.

“I know.”

Tess glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye and saw his upper lip twitch; and a flush of relief flash in his eyes, as he came along side her. She looked forward, turning left at the quiet intersection of the now bustling corridors. Biting the corner of her bottom lip, Tess smiled faintly, turning and looking up at Michael, who had now recovered from his slight slip of emotional recognition, and nudged him with her elbow. “Khivar won’t know what hit him,” she stated confidently, hoping he would accept her subtle way of apologizing.

Michael closed his eyes and nodded once. “We’ll make him pay.”

[/i]

[jayta]

Chapter Fifty Nine

***
You alone are to be feared.
Who can stand before you when you are angry?
- Psalm 76:7
***

'Ma!'

Tess jerked her head up, swallowing hard as she blindly followed Michael through the dark ventilation shaft. Along with them were three others: Hani, a 17 year old boy, eager to please; Quirinius, 22, reserved and aloof; and the last Kedran to be recruited was Yasu, 19, whom General Steren recommended personally. The three trained soldiers ranging from 17-22 years of age had only sparred within the Loyalist army, seeing battle only on a computer screen, or in a simulation. None of them had ever killed.

Once Tess and Michael had arrived in the strategy room, General Steren submitted a plan of attack, which he had prepared with many of the other generals within the Loyalist army. The plan was not final, and Michael and Tess brought with them a few of their own ideas, but together they decided on a plan of action and departed that afternoon on a light ship that would carry them over the desert of Saren Dari with speed.

As she snuck through the secret base, which was tucked away in a dry, barren place, it gave her a glimmer of hope that her son might be safe. The inner voice which cried to her, imagined or not, willed her to go on. Tess kept close to Michael, but all the while reaching out with her mind to her son.

The group of five that had been formed by Fadilia, General Steren, Michael and herself, was individualistic; in Tess' opinion, they were divided by experience and stature. The soldiers had not even been ranked; in fact, many of the new generation of the Loyalist army would have been considered privates, since none had been outside of Mount Freiweil, so as to give the Lieutenants and Generals opportunity to observe them. It was hard for Tess to put her trust in three men, whom she knew nothing about.

"Okay, this is Section D42, according to the mapping grid," Michael whispered, as a dim fluorescent glow lit his darkened features.

Tess peered over his shoulder and nodded in acknowledgement. "Where do we go from here?"

Michael glanced at her and paused for a moment. Tess waited expectantly for Michael's guidance, since he seemed to have an ability to internalize the operational plan with ease. All the details of how to get here and how to get in were left in his capable hands. "We'll split up as planned. There's a lot of area to cover, even more than we expected from the looks of our approach."

Tess could see the concern etched on his face. He had led many of these as Rath, but this would be his first mission in decades; and though he had the memories of his former personality, it did not lift the burden of success that was expected of him.

He sighed pressing the crook of his finger against his lips, with an expression of thoughtful consideration. "We'll go ahead as planned." With a quick flick of a switch on a silver chain strapped to his wrist, Michael looked up at all of them. "Everyone synchronize their timelinks...now." He turned around to confirm the synchronization had begun.

Tess nodded, as she followed suit, flicking the switch on the identical chain, and listening to the almost inaudible 'beep' sound within each of the group’s timelinks. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hani grin widely as he obeyed his commander's first 'real' orders.

"Hani and Quirinius are with me," Michael announced tentatively, while glancing at Tess for any objections.

Tess nodded. "Yes." They had discussed this in the conference.

"Okay, then let's move out." Michael motioned with a flick of his wrist for his men to head down the left corridor of the maze-like shafts.

Tess watched as Hani and Quirinius swiftly and deftly crept a few feet down the empty tunnel, with Michael trailing them. She turned and glanced at Yasu, who remained crouched, resting on one knee, trying to look half as confident as Michael, while leading this inexperienced soldier. But from the expression on his face, it wasn't working. Tess looked ahead and saw that Michael had turned back, standing a few feet from their diverging journeys. His head tilted to the right, motioning to the passageway she and her companion would take; and she understood his wordless encouragement.

Tess cleared her throat and stood within the narrow passageway. "Let's go." Her eyes never left Michael's, as she pressed on ahead, until he was out of sight, as she began her search for her son.

~~~

"We'll keep an eye out for any signs of Zander and Andaria, but our main goal is to locate 'Pilan'."

Fadilia and General Steren had reminded them of the continuing threat Khivar's project posed to their revolt during the conference, which was when they had decided to take Michael's idea of dividing into two groups. They had weighed the risks of either searches coming up empty, or the idea of being captured, but all of them agreed both were too important to focus on just one mission. So it was decided.

Michael knew Tess was capable of finding her son; he believed it was a logical decision to split Tess and himself up into different groups. Trusting the mission to soldiers inexperienced as these was nothing to take lightly - they needed someone who would ensure success. He needed to be successful in bringing home information about what 'Pilan' was, or even, hopefully, destroying it before it had the ability to destroy hundreds of millions of lives.

Tess, on the other hand, sole focus was her son, as it should have been. And the determination she brought to her part of the mission was needed, especially when she was short one man.

"Our exit is two feet to the left," Quirinius informed matter-of-factly.

Michael had allowed Quirinius the task of guiding them through the rest of the passageways because it was unmapped, and he had a stronger skill with the navigational system, which the Loyalist army was using on this mission. "And what will be walking into?" he asked warily.

Quirinius was silent for several minutes, quickly pressing a sequence of buttons on the compact Navi system. "We'll be in a side compartment, near what appears to be a storage room." He paused a moment, his mouth open, as if about to say something. Suddenly he let out a breath and with his head bowed, nodded. "If Jair mapping was correct, the main power grid should be located not far from there." Quirinius glanced up expectantly at his commander after submitting his astute observations.

Michael didn't know these two soldiers from two holes in the ground, but General Steren seemed confident in their abilities. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts and steel himself for the inevitable confrontations with the enemy, Michael nodded, gesturing to Quirinius to lead the way.

~ * ~

As Michael crawled out from the passageway, he was met with cold, metal corridors, and an evil presence that seemed to press in on his mind. He tried to focus, pushing aside the desire to let his thoughts to wander. Michael gritted his teeth and scanned his surroundings. The hallways were empty, which was a blessing in disguise; they did not need an early skirmish to announce their presence - not just yet. But the weight pressing in on him would not lift, and then Michael was fully aware of Khivar's wide scope of artillery, in the form of telepaths or mindwalkers, monitoring any possibility of intruders on the premises.

"Are we certain no one is able to see or detect that we've broken in?" His whole body was tense - alert and ready for any attack.

Hani shook his head fervently. "No one could possibly detect us Commander Ra...Michael," he chirped confidently, as they crept along the wall, northbound, towards an empty intersection of corridors. "The devices planted under the surface of our epidural layer deflects any sensors, and we've all been trained in mind probe sensitivity. If they were searching for us, we would definitely be alerted."

Michael furrowed his brow. "Commander Guerin. Call me Commander Guerin, not Commander Michael."

The first time he heard it, it made him frown. Commander Michael. It may have worked with his former persona's name, but just as Hani addressed him by his given Earth name, it made him cringe. It just sounded wrong.

Hani nodded dejectedly, as if Michael had rebuked him. "Don't worry about it," Michael dismissed, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder. This seemed to bring back an element of the soldier's sprightly attitude.

"Now," Michael paused as they approached the open hallway. "How are we going to locate the power grid?"

"If we could just get to a control panel, I could interface with the system" Quirinius suggested. "And possibly even download the schematics to the entire base. Then we wouldn't be walking around blind?"

Michael and Hani stared at their dark-skinned comrade in disbelief. The silent and reserved soldier managed to keep his adept abilities well hidden.

"Well then, we'd better find some soon, huh?" Michael said wryly. Taking a quick glance around the corner, he signalled for his soldiers-in-training to follow his lead. Once again, he seemed to have soldiers with him, as he did in days of old.

Maybe...just maybe, I'll be able to lead again.

~~~

Tess followed the tunnel to its end destination. There guarding its path was a large magnetic field. The gentle hum of the circulating field within its closed circuit echoed in her ears. She glanced back at Yasu, who had remained silent for almost the entire mission, lifted no hand in assistance. Tess rolled her eyes back and silently groaned.

Great.

Tentatively, Tess raised her hand to the edge of the metal lining that ran parallel to the ground, where the passage walls met the magnetic field. She took one deep breath before closing her eyes and exerting a small, short burst of energy, undetectable to most monitoring computer systems, to short out the magnetic current. After the emitting the burst, Tess felt a strong hand squeeze her shoulder firmly, causing her to open her eyes and gaze into the intense green eyes of her companion. She turned away and looked over at the opening, which had once been blocked by a magnetic field; now opened for all to exit through.

~ * ~

Her knees absorbed the weight of her body as she hopped down from the ventilation shaft and onto a metal catwalk, which was suspended 60 feet in the air. She heard a small metallic thud, as Yasu came up behind her. "Where are we?" Tess whispered, glancing around the room. They were completely encased in an opaque glass, tinted with a reddish hue. Several spotlights were strategically placed upon the thin metal rafters, illuminating the immense room. Looking down, there were rows of neatly lined grey cubes, with two or three soldiers milling through the narrow aisles at one time. "It seems like a storage area of some type."

"Why do you say that?" he asked curiously.

Tess frowned at her recently talkative companion.

He had been of no help to her since they had left Mount Freiweil. His silent and uncooperative attitude was beginning to irritate her. "Because," she slowly drawled, "those look like filing cabinets to me!" Her voice raised a half a tone in pitch.

Yasu cocked his head to the side as if she was being illogical. "Filing cabinets?"

"You've never heard of them?"

Yasu's tanned complexion didn't attempt to hide his confusion. "Your Highness, I would express my knowledge of such contraptions if they were in my realm of understanding." He shook his head at her impatience with him.

Tess let out a deep breath, not allowing herself to get worked up into a tizzy. She let her muscles relax and swallowed the biting remarks she had for the aloof officer. Deep down, Tess knew it really had nothing to do with this officer; rather, it had to do with the overwhelming thought of searching for Zander in the unending labyrinth, not to mention her anxiety over her mother. "Look, they're used to store paper documents - you know, information - in metal drawers." Tess waited for a look of understanding; instead he looked askance.

"Your Highness," he said humbly. "The ancient system of which you speak does not exist on Antar. There is no need for Khivar to utilize such obsolete methods of data storage."

Tess knew he made sense, which annoyed her. She glanced down from the catwalk and peered at the grey cubes once more. "Well then Einstein, tell me what those are!" she said through clenched teeth.

"Einstein?" He looked at her with confusion. Then, turning back his attention to the room, Yasu leaned slightly over the railing, as if he could see better from that distance and then straightened up. "Bodies."

The word stunned her. Tess felt her muscles tense, as she glared skeptically at the confident 19-year-old Kedran. "You've got to be joking." She glanced over her shoulder, down at the cold, sharp, impersonal cubes. "There must be hundreds of them." Her eyes scanned the rows and rows of the boxes.

Yasu squeezed her shoulder once more, as he had in the ventilation system, bringing her out of her thoughts. "We must leave. Time is of the essence."

Tess furrowed her brow, as her eyes remained glued to the above surface graves. Could her mother be in one of those? Could Khivar have buried her mother without her knowing it?

Suddenly she felt herself being led away. Yasu gently prodded her along the catwalk, trying to escape the notice of the guards below. Tess felt her heart squeeze tight, and a sensation of breathlessness came over her, as her gaze could not be torn away from the morbid scene. Unexpectedly two soldiers entered the room, and Yasu yanked her down to the floor of the catwalk. They wheeled in a long grey table, with a black cloth draped over it.

"A body?" The word breathlessly escaped her lips.

Tess strained to see the frame of the thin narrow body. Her blood began to warm and she felt her heart begin to race. It was as if there was some connection she was missing with the figure underneath the shroud of black. Tess closed her eyes as the two guards left the body with the guard at the entrance of the room, trying to stifle a cry. She felt her whole body begin to tremble, as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.

"We must leave now," Yasu urged, his voice firm, yet gentle.

Tess felt his strong hands, drag her away from the aching that had entered with the unknown body; it grew less the further Yasu physically wrenched her from that catwalk. Before Tess knew what was happening, she was collapsed in a dark corridor, away from the traversed hallways by Khivar's men, with tears streaming down her face. "Not Andaria...not my mother."

~~~

Mystery no longer surrounded Maia. The lifeless body wheeled out from her small cramped prison had been an unexpected sight for Nicholas. He had known Khivar's method's had taxed the old woman; but they had not known to what extent when they plied her body with experimental carthogens, which only meant to weaken her mental state, and instead caused her whole respiratory system to shut down. She had suffocated to death.

"Do we have any response from the other prisoner?" Khivar asked.

Nicholas shook his head, as he gazed watchfully at the translucent image of his Lord and King. He did not know how Khivar would feel about their prisoner's death. "As soon as we realized the affect the drugs were having on the subject, we notified you." He paused for a brief moment. "Only the few architects, who administered the drugs, and the guards are aware of the outcome."

Khivar nodded. "Good." He opened his mouth to say more, but paused and gazed sternly at Nicholas, as if something had just occurred to him. "Are you positive that she is dead?"

Nicholas frowned. That seemed like an odd question to ask. He tilted his head and raised a questioning eye to his King. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

"What did I say?' he growled impatiently. "We've had the wool pulled over our eyes once before, I will not have it again!"

Nicholas shrugged. "Architect Sanom seemed pretty confident about it," he slowly replied. "Besides, there was no way Maia knew about the carthogens. No one knew except Architect Sanom, you and I."

Khivar seemed wary of that assumption. "Don't fail me Nicholas," he said, staring down at him. "I want no more unexpected events until after my Coronation. Once you locate the Loyalist base, kill them all." Before Nicholas could respond, Khivar's image dissolved into static.

"Yes sir!" Nicholas saluted to the waves of floating static, all the while rolling his eyes back at his Commander's warning.

"It's not like I'm the one making the decisions here," Nicholas turned on his heel and exited the Com centre. "He's the one who's making the decisions. I'm just the lackey, for want of a better word," he grumbled as he strode down the dark corridor.

~~~

"Nicholas do this...Nicholas do that! What does he think I am? A robot? Next time I won't answer his transmission!"

Michael pressed his men back against the far wall, praying Nicholas would just pass by them. He held his breath while the footsteps drew closer and closer, until they passed by and faded around the corner.

"That was close," Hani gasped. "If Nicholas had found us, we'd definitely be meat for fodder."

Michael glanced at his two men and silently thanked whoever was watching out for them - for the short leave of grace. Clearing his throat, he motioned with his hand that they would go ahead. It seemed they had found the communications room.

Michael scouted down the hall while Quirinius hacked into the security system and attempted to bypass its codes. It seemed comfortable, the rush of adrenaline that flowed through his veins, as he anticipated the possibility of discovery.

"Commander!" Hani beckoned to him in a hushed tone.

Michael glanced back to see Hani standing in the open entranceway of the locked room, waving frantically at him. With cat-like speed, he dashed down the hall and slipped into the room, as the door closed behind him.

~~~

Max slipped down the jagged peak and ran down the rugged path into the cave.

"Max, what's happening?" Jesse cried hysterically. "Where did this fog come from?"

Max gazed at the two frightened faces, which looked to him for answers. He understood their concern and fears; he, himself, had them burning beneath his chest. "The time has come for you to leave," he told them calmly. "It's not safe for you here now."

"Max, we can't leave you here," Liz argued.

Jesse saw Kyle, Maria, and your parents. They need us."

Max shook his head wearily; he glanced out into the veiled field of battle. "I know," he nodded solemnly. "But there is nothing you can do. It is bout me...they want me."

Liz frowned. "This might have come to pass because of your presence here, but it does not mean that this is only about you." She paused, taking a deep breath, as her heart raced at the image of Kyle and Maria in harm's way. There was something she must do. Her destiny was linked to this moment. Deep in her gut she knew that she had unfinished business in the desert, which she had walked away from once before. "I need to be here."

Max furrowed his brow in frustration. "Liz, I'm telling you to go!"

"I'm not..." Before she could finish her vigorous protest, Max reached out and knocked her unconscious with a short burst of energy; letting her body collapse into his arms, he kissed her serene forehead. "Jesse you have to take her back to Roswell. Things I won't be able to completely control are about to happen and I don't want you guys to get caught in the crossfire."

Jesse looked uncertain about Max's instructions. "I..."

"Go!" Max barked, placing Liz's unconscious body into his limp arms. "There's no time. They are coming."

~~~

Jesse watched Max turn and head out into the dismal, consuming curtain of grey, which swirled in the entranceway. He looked down at Liz and sighed loudly. After a deep breath he lowered his arms and swept the small brunette into his arms and made his trek down to the vehicle they arrived in.

The smog seemed to part at his feet as he stepped carefully down the steep slope. Jesse looked out into the cumulating thickness that formed almost a solid grey wall, and paused a moment, adjusting his grip around Liz's limp body.

"What about Isabel?" His mind raced at the possible ill fate Isabel had met or would soon meet. Jesse glanced down at Liz. She seemed so certain that her place was here in this obscure abyss.

"Were you right? Is there something you or I could do to help...turn the tide?" he asked quietly. Deep down, something stirred within him; a strong force willing him to stay.

Or is it childish pride?

~~~

Kyle felt himself being pushed ahead into this sudden smog that had fallen upon them. It was thick; he could almost grasp it in his hand. As he stumbled forward, Kyle could feel Maria's hand firmly grasping his.

"You know I feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole," he joked.

"Not funny, Kyle."

Kyle glanced back to make a face at his tense companion, but save for the physical touch of her hand there was no face - no body - to accompany the dry sarcasm.

"No talking!" a gruff voice commanded from behind.

Kyle scanned his surroundings. Could he make a run for it? No one could possibly see through the palpable haze. Could he make it?

"Kyle, we've got to get out of here," Maria's voice whispered.

He squeezed her hand gently, acknowledging the dire situation they had managed to find themselves in. What to do...

What to do!

~~~

Kyle felt a hand grab him and yank him forward; and since Maria's hand was tightly clasped in his, she was dragged along. "What the he..." A smooth hand clapped over his mouth before he could say anymore.

"Kyle?" Maria cried out.

He could hear some grumbling from behind him made by the guards because of the commotion he and Maria were making. And just as it happened with him, Kyle could hear someone muffle Maria's mouth, as he was hastily dragged away at a sharp diagonal direction. He struggled against the unusually smooth, yet firm grasp over his mouth. Escape would have been possible, except the restraints that the aliens had so kindly provided remained on his wrists, and he did not want to pass out just then.

"Shh!" a female voice hissed irritably.

Kyle frowned. That did not sound like one of the guards.

Unexpectedly, he felt the hand slide slowly from his lips. Kyle decided right then that it was possible that they were on his side, so he opted to remain silent.

"Kyle," the familiar voice whispered. "It's..."

"Liz!" he cried excitedly, ready to grab her and kiss her. "My god, you have no idea how glad we are to see you...well, figuratively speaking..." Since he couldn't even see the hand in front of his face.

"How did you find us?"

There was silence, as he felt the running pace Liz had set, slow to a crawl. Suddenly the fog seemed to thin, and he was able to make out Liz's petite figure, as well as two other figures to his right. One was Maria and the other...Jesse.

Liz pulled him down into a narrow hidden crag, behind a large boulder. "I have no idea how we possibly found you," she gasped, out of breath. "It was crazy out there."

"First, when I finally woke up from Max's knockout blast, I had a hard time convincing this guy," she pointed to Jesse, "that we needed to go out and find you."

"Why weren't you with Max?" Maria frowned. "Where is Max?"

An expression of anger flashed across Liz's face at the mention of his name. "He's out doing what he thinks he needs to," she said darkly. When she finally looked up at Kyle and the others, her face had hidden her displeasure and was blank. "It doesn't matter now. He made his choice and I made mine."

Kyle frowned at her last statement. He tilted his head, perceiving an underlying meaning - one that did not involve Max's desire for her return to Roswell. Before he could pursue anything more Maria asked worriedly, "But what about the guards? How did you get through and find us?"

Liz raised her brows and shook her head in wonder. "It was like this force was leading me...guiding me," she breathed excitedly. "I've never felt anything like it. Guys, it was a totally weird experience."

"I don't know how to explain it."

Kyle didn't know what to make of the story...a force leading her? His first reaction was dismay. "Well you were crazy to even think about doing it! You should've listened to Max," he growled. "It was dangerous and stupid."

Liz stared at him in disbelief. In fact everyone was staring at him like he had gone over the edge.

"Excuse me?" Liz said, a little perturbed.

"You heard me!" Kyle gestured in her direction. "What if they had captured you too?" The thought made his stomach turn. He could face his own mortality, he had had time to face it, but the idea of Liz dying because she carelessly tried to save him...and Maria, of course, made the blood drain from his face.

Liz seemed to realize how shaken he was and backed down. "Kyle," she spoke softly. "There's no way I would do nothing, when you guys are out here alone. It's something you would do for me...I just had the opportunity to do it for you first."

Kyle wanted to tell her how stubborn she was, but now, having the chance to see her one more time when he thought that would never happen, he just nodded and smiled. "Thanks." His voice was hoarse with emotion. He glanced over at Maria, who was also touched by the courage and dedication of their friend.

Maria nodded, as she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. "Yeah," she agreed, choked up.

As they took a moment to absorb every thing that had happened, Kyle noticed Maria's eyes widened in horror. He frowned, scanning the area. "What?" he exclaimed apprehensively.

"The Evans'. What about the Evans'?"

~~~

"Move," a vicious throaty voice growled.

Diane shivered, not knowing what to expect. She stretched her arms out and searched for her husband. "Phillip?" she cried. "Where are you? Phillip?" Her voice cracked under the strain of the terrifying situation.

"Here," Phillip's familiar voice said reassuringly. "I'm right here."

Diane felt one of his large hands fumble down her arm and grasp hers. "Did you hear the voices?" she whispered, leaning close to her husband.

"Yes."

"After the commotion, I couldn't hear Kyle or Maria anymore..." She felt a renewed flood of tears brim, threatening to overwhelm her. "Do...do you think they did something to them?" Fear filled her voice.

Phillip squeezed her hand again. "I don't know." He paused. "I am praying that they might have gotten away..."

"Oh Phillip, what are we doing here?" She bit her lip. "I don't know what we or the kids did, but I'm scared out of my mind...I...I don't think I can keep going," she stammered. Her knees felt weak and her heart raced.

Phillip's hand slid under her elbow and he seemed to lift her up somewhat. She knew he was trying to hold her up and she was grateful for that. Taking a deep breath, Diane gritted her teeth and gathered whatever strength she had left, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

"We're going to make it," Phillip whispered.

Diane closed her eyes and nodded. She then realized he couldn't possibly see her through this fog. "I know," she breathed, her voice slightly wavering.

"Halt!" a man's voice bellowed.

She felt Phillip hold her back, obeying orders from their captors.

"Why are we stopping?" she whispered.

"There's something ahead."

Diane squinted her eyes, trying to see through this frightening cloud that had fallen upon them. She could have been imagining things, but just a few metres ahead of them there seemed to be a green dome-shaped glow ahead of them.

What is that?

~~~

Max walked into the grey fabric-like haze that he had created. It had been something unexpected and welcomed; as he felt a sudden shift of temperature, and a cool breeze drifted in from across the desert, Max drew the heat from the sands and rocks, which had been bathing in the days' warm rays. When he combining the drastic changes in temperature, a sudden fog appeared across the rocky, rugged terrain. It had been a blessing, for now he could take his enemy by surprise.

Max raised his hand in front of him and waved his hand slightly; the fog bent to his will and began to dissipate, allowing him to make out the moving figures twenty to thirty feet ahead of him. He remained cautious though, shrouding himself in a veil of the swirling mist, so all his enemy saw moving towards them was more of the frustrating opaque substance.

Into the mist, Max felt himself fortified by the control he had suddenly gained over the situation. He thanked God for that unexpected change in weather. For it was a rare occurrence in Roswell. He felt like the 'One' was standing beside, walking with him through this important battle.

'Oh General, regret will flood this plain and He will send your army back to the Abyss from which you were spawned.'

~~~

The General stiffened at the confident declaration of his foe.

'Your strength may cause my men to doubt, but I can see through the distractions of your mind and see you remain weak. All of your bravado does not change the fact that you are not truly King Zan, son of Alaric, of the House of Kedar.'

Silence.

The General smirked. It was true; Zan's essence lingered in his body, but he was still human - not full-blooded Antarian.


**********

Chapter Sixty

***
…for our God is a consuming fire.
- Heb. 12:29
***

Through the swirls of fog came a surge of heat like a gust of warm wind passing through the maze of white. The soldiers didn't seem to know what was happening, which put them on edge. As the velvety curtain dispersed, as if the sudden heat was melting it away, from above came an unexpected shower of blinding light. The pale silver streams sliced through the smoky wisps, now lifted, something like that of the Red Sea parting.

The General grew tense; his army was losing focus and scattering in the wake of this immense light show. "Hold your positions!" He barked at the mindless host bodies, running wildly like beheaded fowl. "Captain Leisner!"

Everything had been under control; but now he found his well-trained army in fearful disarray. His third-eye sought out the cause of this unwanted chaos; amidst the fleeing human waste was...him. Zan.

"General, you summoned me?"

The General turned around and looked down from his transport. The young captain appeared calm, yet underneath his thin exterior, he knew the soldier was shaking in his boots. "How many men have we lost to this sudden attack?" He scanned the area, trying to estimate the count of human hosts they had lost control over. The General was sure it was cowardice on his own men's part - they had fled their host bodies at the slightest hint of peril. How pathetic.

He watched as the eager captain scanned the clearing battlefield. "Sir," he paused, taking a deep breath. "It seems we've lost hold of a third of our host army."

The General clenched his fists and let out a primal, malevolent cry.

No! Damn it!

He closed his eyes and dug deep for an ounce of self-control. His plan had gone to hell; but he could not panic. He was more experienced to fold under such an obvious scare tactic. He would just devise another plan, which could be implemented under such confusion. The General opened his eyes and gazed indomitably ahead into the widening field of tan and copper. "Bring the prisoners to me," he growled.

"Let's see how strong our enemy is when I kill them...right in front of his eyes."

Max was amazed at the streams of light that flooded down upon the legion of hundreds, scattering them in every direction. He had never seen such a supernatural display in his life. There still remained a host of soldiers, but the overwhelming numbers had just evaporated before his eyes.

"Thank you," he said under his breath.

'I will overcome...'

Max felt a sudden peace come over him as he prepared himself for the next part of this divinely inspired attack. He could see the army already regrouping in front of him.

Now it was his turn.

The General stepped down from his hovercraft and approached the horseshoe formation his men were creating, extending the reach of his arm to the cloak of unnatural mist in the middle of the cool desert; the black veil of night had opened from above, and its' watchful eyes in its' infinity now peered down upon them. "Let the many generations of this galaxy lay testament to this night." He narrowed his eyes and raised his hands in honor to his distant king. "For the House of Kedar will end in all its dim and paltry glory!"

The General came up behind his men, his posture exuding a confidence in what he believed to be the last breath Zan would or could ever take. "Bring the prisoners!" He waited smugly for the captain to lead the weak, plodding vassals of flesh onto centre stage.

In the distance he could see the faltering steps of a uniformed man, prodding two shackled humans in front of him. The General frowned. This was not what he expected. Where were the others?

Captain Leisner seemed to read his thoughts, as the captain's gaze peered towards his position, and seemingly shrugged in ignorance. The General clenched his fists once more, wanting to squeeze the life breath out of his fumbling and incompetent men. It was as if a curse had been placed on his men. Everything was not going as expected.

The General cleared his throat and glared at his cowering enemy, who lingered in the cloak of his own making. He could not let Zan know that his plan was unraveling before his eyes. He would put on his best front for the returning king.

Max was surrounded. He could not run, even if he had wanted to. "You are fighting a losing battle!" Max declared, not sure if this was for the army's benefit or his. "Run before I take every one of your lives!"

The General pursed his lips, as the hackles on the back of his neck were raised at the presumptuousness of the one-man army. He had waited a long time to see the regenerated being called 'Zan', who was held in high esteem, as the true king of Antar'.

"Show yourself, O Great King!" His voice dripped with malice.

~~~

Diane and Phillip exchanged timid glances, as they knelt on their knees before this horrifying madman, who was challenging an obscure floating mass, which had begun to glow a silvery white.

This was it. Behind them were their blood-lusting executioners and a tall blonde madman, regaled in black, with numerous small pearled medallions above his breast. The commander of this makeshift army of terror was calling for their blood. But the frightening thing was that he seemed to believe whatever was hidden behind the fog would actually care about their deaths.

Tears streamed down Diane's face. She had never imagined her death this way. She imagined passing away in her sleep - peacefully.

Hadn't she been a goof wife, mother...person? What had she done to deserve this terrifying end?

Obviously this 'thing' - man or animal - was the reason. 'Zan', they were calling him; but she could not comprehend what 'it' had anything to do with them. Maria and Kyle seemed to understand what was happening to them - why this indeed was happening to them - but they had suddenly disappeared themselves.

Now they were alone.

Phillip squeezed his wife's hand. She had withdrawn into herself, as he could see the strain of the unexplainable had gotten to her. He felt a thin bead of sweat trickle down his own face, even though the night brought with it temperatures dropping down to three or four degrees Celsius. It was a nightmare.

Max was involved. He knew this in his gut. The various mysteries and unexplainable disappearances in Roswell lately - the strange men and women that seemed to suddenly enter their lives and exit just as quickly, had always intrigued him; but now he knew...Max was in over his head. How had Max gotten involved in such madness?

Phillip closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer. He was not a religious man, but if there was a God, he and Diane needed him right about now.

~~~

"Show yourself Zan!" The General repeated himself. "Or they die!"

Diane and Phillip cringed as they felt the sharp point of metal stabbing into their flesh.

Max instinctively stepped forward; the thought of running to their rescue was at the forefront of his mind. The sight of his parent's treacherous situation raised an overwhelming flood of emotions; but something pulled him back, as if an invisible hand steadied the chaos that made him reel inside.

'Be still.'

Max gritted his teeth, as his whole body throbbed with pure hatred for this foul waste of breath. He knew Khivar's tactics were cheap and underhanded, but he realized how it had aided him now, in this dark hour. There would be no remorse in expelling from the earth the filth that surrounded him.

Diane and Phillip waited for the sharp weapons, which pressed up underneath their shoulder blades, to plunge into their bodies. "Phillip I love you," Diane sobbed dejectedly. She bowed her head, as if her all of her strength had been sapped from her body.

"Don't," Phillip choked out. He was in sheer disbelief. He couldn't be on his knees, pleading for his life. He wasn't only a moment away from death's door. "Don't say that," he hissed. "We're not going to die."

Suddenly out of the hovering mist that floated ominously before them, a golden stream of light was expelled. Its' intense and dazzling rays reached out, like arms from the faceless being before them, and struck the two guards who loomed over them.

Diane screamed. Falling forward when the blast of light, energy...whatever it was flew over her head - her whole body trembled. Phillip shielded his wife's trembling body with his, but not before seeing out of the corner of his eye, the guards who had been appointed their executioners fall lifelessly behind him.

~~~

The General frowned, as he watched as two of his best men fell to the ground. He glared at Zan's impudence. "Fire!" The General bellowed over the deafening silence, his death sentence for the lone crusader

There would be no slow torturous death - he had had enough. The risen leader of the Loyalist contingent would not live a second longer.

~~~

Max heard the General's swift orders and frowned uncertainly. As he watched the remaining legion raise their odd, yet familiar weapons to kill him, nothing but peace filled his being. Lifting his eyes towards the glistening light of the heavens, Max flicked his wrist, and silently relieved the purposeful cloak that had so effectively shielded him from attack.

~~~

"No more!" a dark and foreboding voice echoed across the silent plains.

Diane strained her neck upwards, as Phillip protectively hovered over he, trying to shield them from any stray fire. That voice...

Phillip widened his eyes as a dark figure approached through the swirling mist that seemed to evaporate before their very eyes. Who was it?

Suddenly his breath caught in his throat, and unconsciously loosened his grip on Diane, who was also staring in bewilderment at the spectacle before them.

It couldn't be...

~~~

"Zan." His tone revealed a note of satisfaction, as he watched the slender, dark-haired boy emerge from the intricate diversion.

The General glanced down at his man, whose human hosts obeyed their temporary possessors. A sequence of multiple rays was expelled from the long staff weapons they had transported from Antar onto Earth. He watched silently as the linear glow of red sped towards its target.

His lips curled into a smug satisfied smirk, as he clasped his hands together gleefully. "May the House of Ituria reign in all its' glory."

~~~

"Maaaax!" Diane watched in frozen horror as the strange red lights hurled through the night towards her son. She clawed the dark soil underneath her fingers, straining forward, in an attempt to warn her son...to save him.

If she could only reach him.

~~~

Max raised his hands towards the numerous crimson bursts bearing down on him; they unexpectedly converged into one large deadly mass of energy that seemed intent on destroying him. Before he could even blink, a burst of fluorescent green energy emanated from the palms of his hand. His whole body skidded backwards, as his feet could not find any grip on the dry, loose soil, jarred from the tremendous impact of the blast. Max cringed under the strain of the blow, almost faltering, as he tried to absorb the sudden blast.

He opened his eyes tentatively, searching for a harmless location where he could deflect the large amount of energy he had pressing in on him. Finally, with immense effort, Max managed to change the trajectory of the energy blast - over and above his head, where it dissipated into nothing. The effort left him breathless.

Max turned towards the tall, muscular commander, who led the mindless host of men before him. He stood tall and erect, glaring down his opponent. "Is that all you have...General Qunar?"

Qunar stared blankly at the smooth, chiseled jaw of the youth. It had been decades since he had met him in battle; Khivar had spoken of the hybrid's reluctance to embrace his heritage - his previous life. How could he know my name?

It unsettled him - Zan's display of mastery over his powers. He had not expected him to be so prepared; it was as if someone had instructed him about what to expect. The boy did not display the inexperience of his years or the rashness of a callowed youth.

Yet...

Qunar set his shoulders back and folded his arms across his chest; nodding once, he acknowledged the feat Zan had accomplished. "You put on a spectacular display." He glanced down at his men, who had become restless; they were disheveled and slowly breaking formation. He tensed. "But how long can you last?" he said condescendingly.

"It's not a question of lasting," Max replied perceptively, slowly approaching the once menacing throng.

"Oh no?" General Qunar scoffed at his confidence. "Then what is it about?"

Max locked gazes with his opponent, meeting his steely gaze with staunch defiance. "No. It's about justice; those who have murdered - slaughtered my people - receiving thaat which has been their fate since the fall of the House of Kedar. It was sealed the night of Zan's death."

Qunar tilted his head toward his enemy, who seemed, up until now, to have gained the upper hand. "Why do you speak about yourself, Zan, in third person?" He grinned; delighted he had caught the hybrid in a prophetic quandary. "Is it because your hybrid form has rejected Zan's true essence?"

"Is that why you did not return along side Ava, your Queen?"

Qunar's probing questions fell on deaf ears as Max stopped his approach; his gaze fell upon his parents. Their faces were pale and ashen. He felt his blood curdle, as their eyes, which were a window into their souls, reflected the terror, panic and anguish they had been through in the last 24 hours. Regret filled him in its entirety, as they looked at him with new eyes - they finally saw him for who and what he was. No more secrets; no more lies.

~~~

"M-Max?" Diane croaked, unable to comprehend the spectacle that had just occurred minutes ago. The man looked like her son; but none of this made any sense. "W-w-what..." She could not find the words to express her complete and utter lack of understanding at what her captor and the man she thought was her son were talking about. Why would he respond to the name Zan? Why would this man refer to her son as Zan?

"Let them go," Max demanded calmly. "And I may let you live another minute." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the horseshoe formation closing ranks, until he and his parents were completely surrounded.

"Max, what is going on?" Phillip asked, through clenched teeth. This was getting out of hand. He didn't have a clue to what was happening.

What 'thing' could do what he had just seen Max do?

~~~

"You and what army, Zan? Or as your human guardians seem to refer to you, 'Max'." General Qunar smirked, as he could read the obvious affection Zan had for the human race. "You may have withstood our first encounter, but I think you would not fair so well after a continual onslaught. Even you couldn't last that long," he chuckled, gesturing to the stone-faced soldiers, who had their weapons aimed at him.


"Y-you may be right," Max admitted, slowly nodding his head.

Qunar narrowed his eyes at the sudden admission of defeat. It caught him off guard. And when the dark-haired heir met his gaze, Qunar could have sworn he saw a glint of triumph flash across his face. It made him suddenly wary. Though Zan had boldly postured before his army, he could still sense the boy's hesitancy - in his eyes and body. But the boy king's demeanor had suddenly changed. He now looked like one whose numbers had just been added to and the tide turned.

"But he's not alone."

General Qunar stiffened at the unwelcome, female voice, which echoed above him. He spun around, and to his dismay, a shadowy figure loomed over him, standing defiantly on a nearby ridge. He could not see her face, but he knew...he knew it was her.

General Qunar scanned the circumference of his army, only to see the stiff, stoic men suddenly stumble, as if fighting an internal war. Once again he looked up at the tall figure above him and cursed his luck.

No!

"Dilkar, you fool!" he muttered under his breath. Qunar raised his arm towards Max and the chained humans, and waved frantically at them, allowing the human emotions of his host body to overwhelm him. "Kill him!" he ordered. "Kill them all!" He screamed at the useless lumps of flesh, which were for the most part, lying crumpled on the ground.

~~~

While Max was gazing happily at Isabel's sudden arrival, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, a flash of metal under the light of the pale moon that now shone in all its splendor. He spun around in time to see a scythe-like sword, made out of a strange black metal hover perilously over his parents' heads. With inimitable speed, he threw a short burst of energy towards the guard; it knocked the weapon out of his hand, but did not kill him. He ran over to his parents in a race to free them before the army regained control and obeyed their furious commander. The guard had scampered off, like a dog with his tail between his legs.

"Max, what the hell is going on?" Phillip whispered, his eyes darting around at the commotion that surrounded them.

Max studied the magnetic field enclosing their wrists. With deft skill, he quickly dispatched the shackles and crouching low; Max scanned the battlefield for a safe haven to stash his parents. "There's no time to explain," he blurted out. "We have to get you out of here."

"No time to explain?" Phillip's voice rose in a mixture of anger and incredulousness. "How do we even know you're our son?"

Max grabbed his father's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "You have to trust me now, Dad." His breathing was heavy and uneven. He could see the guard who had run off approaching with a renewed determination - in his hand was a long metallic staff. "I know this is all mind blowing right now, but we have got to get you out of here!"

Suddenly a narrow path opened between a nearby group of soldiers. Max grabbed his mother's hand and began to drag them towards the group of men, who were fighting amongst themselves. "Cover me, Isabel!" Max covered his parents’ heads as they made a mad dash through the chaos.

~~~

Isabel felt her heart race as she watched almost helplessly as the organized army of men converged into the centre of the field, where Max and her parents were scurrying haphazardly, in an attempt to escape. She had barely made it to the fray. How could she help?

When Isabel woke up in a pool of water and glass, she had no idea where she was. With a stroke of luck, a hapless private walked in and graciously 'offered' to be her guide. Once she had extracted the information she needed from him, Isabel knocked him unconscious and made her escape; but before she left the encampment, she destroyed whatever computers and alien technology that had existed in the large dome prison. Isabel had hoped that somewhere amidst the rubble was the compacitor that allowed the lengthy possession of the human bodies; and staring down at the uniformed men - some unconscious or writhing around helplessly - she had managed to accomplish that.

Isabel closed her eyes and fell into a deep trance, spreading a thin mist-like facade for her parent's escape; she could not maintain the warp for long, since she hadn't the talent or the power. The drugs and whatever else Khivar's men had given her had weakened her into an almost incapacitated state. It took everything in her to stand there, not allowing the General the pleasure of seeing what his handiwork had done to her.

When she saw that Max and her parents were safely out of harm's way, Isabel dropped the warp and dropped to one knee. Her chest hurt and her head was pounding. Glancing down at the gathering mass of soldiers that seemed to have held on to their host bodies, Isabel took a deep breath and pushed herself onto her feet again. They would be after Max in a heartbeat. She had to get down there and help him.

[jayta]

Lookie lookie! :multi: :rainbowafro: :rainbow1:

I am here to announce, after *much* posting, I've finally finished posting all of my already-written chapters. And here for your viewing pleasure, because of the patience everyone has had for this story, is a NEW chapter!

I hope there are still readers out on this board reading this fanfic. If not, then I'll just go back to posting on my two main posting sites, which are mine and ff.net.

Anyway, here it is!

Chapter Sixty One

***
Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.

- 1 Sam. 8:20
***


"And nothing will separate us," Andaria whispered, as her long slender fingers caressed Ava's fine, blonde hair.

"Promise," 7-year old Tess/Ava asked, looking up expectantly. "Daddy's always going away; you promise you won't?"

The perfectly shaped ruby lips smiled, revealing a sparkling glint of white. "You are my beautiful girl...how could I possibly leave you?"

Tess/Ava felt reassured. Suddenly she felt the soft caress of her mother's fingers against her waist, squeezing gently, and causing a loud shriek of delight and surprise. "Don't tickle me!"

Andaria's expression was feigned shock. "Is my little Aziza ticklish?" She moved in closer and continued to ravage her side and knees, with her gentle touch.

"Ahhh!" Tess/Ava cried out in laughter, squirming in an attempt to escape. "Pleaaaase!" she gasped, as tears ran down her cheeks.

Her mother's laughter echoed melodiously in her ear, as she felt her lips kiss her cheek. "I love you, my child."

~ * ~

"Mother?" Tess sat up, her chest pounding and her breathing shallow; sweat dripped from her brow. She spun around, trying to re-orientate herself to her surroundings. Where am I?

"Your Highness," a robotic voice beckoned.

Tess jerked her head around to see over her shoulder, a young man kneeling close by. She blinked several times, trying to regulate her breathing and figure out what was happening...what had happened.

"We must be on our way. Commander Guerin has already located Project Pilan; he's now trying to locate your son."

The words swirled around in her head as the image of her mother filled her mind. It was so disorientating. What happened to her mother? Tess closed her eyes, rubbing her temples and tried to focus on the past couple of hours. She had been searching for Zander and then...

The image of a long slender table being rolled away, draped by a long black cloth flashed before her eyes.

Dead.

Suddenly the overwhelming urge to throw up came over. She turned away from Yasu and gagged. "Please tell me it isn't true," she gasped. "She's not dead." Her voice was breathy, as if she was hyperventilating.

"Your Highness." The tone was commanding and exasperated. "We must accomplish our task. I do not know if that was your mother; but it seems by your physical and mental reaction, you must have sensed something underneath that cloth." He paused, as if in consideration to the possible loss. "But we do not have the luxury of a mourning period. Every minute we linger here in this shallow corridor jeopardizes our entire mission, and the secondary mission."

Tess pursed her lips, wiping the moist perspiration from her forehead. Her emotions were wreaking havoc to her system. She felt like she wanted to just curl up in a ball and die.

But she couldn't. Zander needed her.

After taking a slow, deep breath, Tess turned to her logical and emotionally detached partner. "You are right," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry."

The officer shook his head and sighed. "There is no reason to apologize. You have good reason for your emotional state; but we must move. Several soldiers have been passing through this area of the complex and I've heard whisperings of intruders."

"Have they discovered Michael and the other officers?" Tess asked worriedly. The task at hand re-focused her attentions.

"I do not believe so. But it is only a matter of time," he lamented. "We must locate Zander now if we are to escape with the heir of Antar."

Tess nodded. "Where do we start?"

Just then, a several guards and architects strode by.

"General Garrick and Commander Nicholas have come to blows."

"Who would you put your mesnyas on?"

As the voices faded, Tess peered around the corner as soon as she was sure that Khivar's men passed. "I think we've received the best opportunity to search for Zander yet," she whispered, checking the corridor for any signs of oncoming traffic. "Try to reach Mich...Commander Guerin and I'll try to see if I can reach Zander."

Tess carefully ran along the corridor wall, with Yasu close behind, and tried to reach out to her son, hoping he was conscious. As she peered into the insecure darkness, a sudden panic overwhelmed her; she could feel herself captured in a struggle, desperate fingers clawing at her mind, like someone was drowning.

Help.

~~~

"Did you download the specs?" Michael glanced over his shoulder at Quirinius, whose concentration was immersed in the narrow pillar that was glowing blood red, while keeping an eye on the entrance to the Com Room.

"Say, Commander Guerin," Hani grinned happily, with a pup-like expectancy. "Do you think we'll receive our first real assignment to a battalion after this?"

Michael continued to watch the door nervously, while Hani seemed to continue to babble. "Que," he barked, shortening the long name of his subordinate. "Let's get a move on. I think company's coming!" He glanced at Hani, whose expression seemed to pale at the warning.

"Got it!" Quirinius exclaimed, snapping the small pocket data system closed.

Michael motioned Hani against the wall, as he frantically gestured for Quirinius to join them, while the sudden impending footsteps approached the private room. His heart raced, pounding against his chest; he had to be prepared for anything.

"There seemed to be unusual activity in the Com Centre," a low, raspy voice said. "General Garrick told me to check security."

As the high pitched beep of the security code being accepted into the system chimed, Michael's muscles tensed, as he readied the rail thin baton in his hand. The swish of the metal doors alerted Michael to the entrance of the unexpected strangers. His breathing became shallow, as he tried to keep their presence unknown as long as possible.

Two men garbed in black robes entered into the room. They had no rank insignia, and did not seem aware of him, Hani, or Quirinius. Michael thought there might be a chance to sneak out, without being noticed - without confrontation.

As he gestured for his men to follow him, as the two men walked passed them, oblivious to the intruders, he pressed the release for the door. Just as Michael turned to make a quick exit, the two officers had heard the airlock release on the door.

"Hey!" one of the soldiers shouted. "Halt."

Both looked startled and upset. They seemed to fumble around with their weapons, mumbling instructions to each other.

Michael pounced on the 'green', unsuspecting officers; drawing his foot-long baton, he pressed the release button on his weapon of choice. The once, short baton, extended itself into a longstaff. He knocked both of the plasma weapons the officers had drawn on him, Hani, and Quirinius. Hani and Quirinius seemed almost as unprepared as Khivar's men, when Michael finally barked instructions to his inexperienced team. "Lockdown the room, until we can dispatch of these two."

The two Iturians backed up, raising their hands in surrender. Michael motioned for the officers to drop the rest of their weapons, as he kept an eye on their enemies. Hani and Quirinius approached the nervous soldiers and moved to bind them with the shackles the gaping men had thrown on the floor.

Quirinius had firmly secured his man, when suddenly Hani, was knocked down by the officer he was shackling; Michael moved to intercept, but before he was able to detain the Antarian, the officer had maneuvered enough distance between them to send out a distress call on his radio.

"Intruders in Section 25. Emergency. Requesting backup!"

Michael let out a loud sigh. "I wish you hadn't done that." With that, he expelled an energy blast, rendering him unconscious.

"Ladies," he looked at Hani and Quirinius, "that's our cue to leave, boys." Skipping around the unconscious guard, he grabbed the stray weapons and headed towards the open door.

The two Kedrans looked at Michael quizzically, pausing for a second, before following him.

Sirens were sounding in the northwest wing of the secret base. Michael pulled Quirinius up along side him, as they ran cautiously through the corridors. "You need to pull out the specs of the base and tell me where we're going!"

The quiet Kedran youth pulled the small computer from his pocket and began randomly pressing buttons on the grey machine. It was the only thing that could get them out of this sticky situation. "Where are we going?" Quirinius said breathily.

"Get me to Project Pilan. We're not leaving without it." Michael peered around the sharp corner of the hallway for approaching guards. He glanced back at Hani and Quirinius, motioning them to follow. "Hani, you know how to get back to the shuttle bay?"

The excited youth nodded. "Yes, sir!" he whispered. "What are your orders?"

"Que and I will find 'Pilan' and you prepare for a quick escape. Get the ship ready for take off."

"But, won't you need..." Hani looked disappointed.

"Do as I order," Michael barked. His patience was thin; he could not waste time reassuring him of the importance of the task.

"Commander, 'Pilan' is being held in Section L21. It's two levels up and in the northeast end of the base."

Michael acknowledged Que's directions. He gazed down at Hani, who stared up expectantly at his leader, his fair complexion seemingly untouched by the elements creased by an expression of hope that he had perhaps changed his mind. "If we are not at the shuttle in 10 minutes, take off; we'll meet you behind the first dune outside the base - 25° longitude, 30° latitude." Michael waited for the strawberry-colored mop to nod in understanding.

"Yes sir." Hani raised his right hand in salute. "May the Unseen grant you success."

Michael nodded. He looked sternly at the young soldier, turn around and head towards the nearest ventilation shaft. "Just don't get caught," he warned gruffly.

Hani turned and smiled, and then returned to the task at hand.

"Commander?"

Michael turned his attention to his remaining subordinate. "All right. We've got a short amount of time to get up two levels," he explained. "Let's try and do this without getting caught."

~~~

Fadilia monitored the status of their multiple armies' defenses. At this point, they were engaged in battle on several different fronts. And the latest movement against the Loyalist contingent had Khivar sending his army on a blood mission. He had already decimated a small village of Kedrans, on the outskirts of Tir Lamar, sister city to Eshtari.

General Steren had reluctantly sent out a host of 40 inexperienced troops from Mount Freiweils, along with Captains Kelsar and Dermot. Tir Lamar had managed reinforcements, but the bulk of the Loyalist defense of its' villages and towns came from Mount Freiweils. Since Khivar had gone on the offensive strike, their most experienced and trained soldiers had become bogged down in the major lines of defense, as Khivar's men seemed to unconsciously draw nearer to their mountain base. What was disconcerting was the fact that they were already spreading themselves thin; but Fadilia refused to allow the idea that those subjects who were situated in a smaller community should be left to fend for themselves.

"Your Highness," Emine called quietly from the corridor shadows. "General Jakar is in the Conference room."

Fadilia tilted her head to the side curiously. What could have possibly prompted Jakar's return?

The Annex had agreed to remain com silent during this tumultuous time. The members had heard of Khivar's pre-emptive strikes against any Loyalist uprising, which had made them all the more uneasy at the thought of being caught speaking with any Loyalist contingent, especially Fadilia. "Tell him I will come."

~ * ~

"Your Highness," Jakar breathed, as he fell to one knee.

"It is good to see you again, General," Fadilia smiled tentatively. She motioned for him to rise. "What is it that brings you here when the journey is so perilous?" She gestured for him to be seated at the large oval table.

His usual strong, chiseled features revealed signs of unease and weariness, as he stiffly pulled out the nearest chair and sat down. He cleared his throat and seemed hesitant to speak. "Queen Fadilia, we have been monitoring Khivar’s advances against your hidden base - will your forces hold?"

Fadilia furrowed her brow at the unexpected show of concern. "It is kind of you to hold such concern, but is this truly the reason for your visit?" She studied the worry- creased face that spoke a tale of the many battles he had seen and fought. The clouded windows of azure flashed a glimpse of the truth that he held close to him. Her eyes remained intent on their subject of scrutiny.

"Don't use your powers, Queen Fadilia." His voice lowered and its' tone held an edge of resentment. "Munans may not be able to read minds, but we do resent those who would impose such powers."

Fadilia steeled her gaze and smiled wryly. "I understand your request." She paused a moment, shifting her weight and shaking her head. "And no, I would not intrude so haplessly, on one whom Antarians regard at such a time, as an ally."

Jakar seemed to relax at her unspoken promise. His face, which naturally portrayed a serious expression, darkened and was even more grave than usual. "There have been reports from Earth...about Zan and Vilandra."

At the mention of her son, Fadilia felt her heart skip a beat. She clasped her now, trembling hands together and gestured with a nod for Jakar to continue. She had been longing for any slip of information from their intelligence officers, but they had been unable to send a probe into the system since Khivar's onslaught had begun.

"From what our solar feeds have reported, a sporadic, large, but contained sequence of energy bursts have emanated from the barren region of the planet's surface." General Jakar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, while his clasped hand rested thoughtfully against his lips. "We have long suspected Khivar of sending a search team for your son and daughter and now..."

Fadilia swallowed hard at the sudden pause of information. Her thoughts turned to the visions Michael had been receiving. He had suspected or felt her daughter's danger approaching, or even witnessed it. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could and tried to recall what he had spoken of...

"Your Highness?"

Fadilia jerked her head up to see Jakar's concerned gaze staring back at her. "Yes." She sounded breathless. "I," she shook her head demurely, "apologize. Please continue."

General Jakar seemed to debate whether her request was wise.

"Please."

The General nodded reluctantly. "When we looked into the matter closely, an unexpected feedback from another energy source - causing our solar probe to be knocked offline - was registered."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he said slowly, lowering his gaze, as if unable to look her in the eye. "That we are temporarily blind and have lost any link to G72-03."

Fadilia bit the inside of her cheek and worriedly imagined what could possibly be happening to her son and daughter. She looked up at Jakar and frowned. "Do we know if Khivar did, indeed, send a contingent to Earth?"

Jakar looked at her grimly. "Two days prior to our rescue of Commander Rath and Queen Ava, there was a hidden portal opened from the palatial grounds..." He let out a frustrated sigh. "It is highly probable that Zan and Vilandra are currently under attack with the recent information we received, and that they are outnumbered. If not..."

Fadilia's eyes flashed ebony. "Don't." Her tone was menacing. Her whole body was trembling, not in fear, but in fury.

Khivar had threatened her children for the last time.

Fadilia mentally called to Emine, who had remained close, just outside the entrance of the room. When the dark-haired child silently appeared before her, Fadilia gazed resolutely at her handmaiden. "Get General Steren."

~~~

Max was startled. It described the moment perfectly. Rushing through the chaos with this parents lagging behind him, all he could think of was 'safety'. He needed to get them to safety.

So when out of nowhere, Max felt a strong hand pull him down, he prepared himself to kill whoever it was, because it was 'kill or be killed'.

As he prepared himself, Max heard a high shrill voice screech from behind him, as he raised his hand to send an energy blast toward his pursuer.

"Max!"

Startled.

Max spun around to see Liz standing with her fingers entangled within her hair - a look of terror on her face. He followed her gaze, which led him to Kyle, whose hand it had been that dragged him down into a dark hidden crevice. With a jerk of his arm, Max pulled his hand away from Kyle's face, which would have received the full impact of his blast. "Kyle! God, what are you doing here?"

Kyle stood unmoved. His expression was one of shock and fear.

"Thank God you're all right!" Mrs. Evans cried, grabbing Maria and embracing her. "If we had left you behind, I don't know..."

"We found them and got them out as fast as we could," Jesse explained to Max and the Evans. He turned to the Evans. "I'm sorry we left you; we tried to find you, but..."

Mr. Evans shook his head. "No. The aliens...guards...whatever they were, had us close. There was no way you could have gotten us out." He grabbed Jesse's hand and pulled him into a grateful embrace. "You would have been captured too."

Max watched the sudden reunion. It was unexpected to say the least. "You were supposed to take her back to Roswell!" He glared angrily at Jesse.

It was his first reaction.

"Max, try and understand," Liz pleaded. "I'm linked to you...to all of this!" She gestured toward the commotion out in the darkened desert plain.

"I needed to be here. I..."

"All of this..." Mrs. Evans repeated after Liz. She frowned. "What is all of this?"

Max turned to his mother, whose previously pale complexion was now flushed with colour. She grabbed her husband's hand down at her side and stared at Max, searchingly.

"I..." Max was not ready for this confrontation - the explanation that was due them after so many years - it was all too much and he had an army after him. He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud thunderous crash shook the rocky crag, which hung over their heads and several loose pieces of rock rained down on them.

"Max." His heart tightened in recognition of the familiar, yet faint voice.

Max spun around and peered out from the dusty hiding place. Isabel.

"Max, don't go. Please!" Mrs. Evans grabbed his arm.

Max looked back at the terrified group of people below him. "I have to go." He swallowed hard, taking in the images of each of his family and friends' faces, as if etching them in his memory. "You have to get out of here. It's too dangerous for you to stay."

"Maxwell." His father's voice boomed in that familiar commanding tone, which he had used to keep his young pre-adolescent self out of trouble. "Listen to me."

Maxwell turned to face his father, who had always seemed larger than life and always there to protect him and Isabel, suddenly now diminished. He smiled warmly at him, as a trail of memories flooded his mind. They had been his world ever since the wandered out of this same desert. Now he had to return to it...but alone.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could explain..." He closed his eyes, and regretfully climbed up towards the battlefield. "Go! Get out now." With that, he had spoken the last words to those he loved.

~~~

The chaos had subsided by the time she had climbed down from the ridge where she had made her shocking entrance. When Isabel approached the flat plain, Maxwell was nowhere to be found. She managed to catch her breath, stealing a moment to compose herself. Isabel thanked God for getting them to safety and asked for Him strength to face the army of men, who, though smaller in number, had begun to regroup.

As Isabel stepped out into the dark sands, with only the light of the full moon to light her way, she could see a group of now 30 men, scouring the desert, for she could only assume, her brother and parents. She quickly disregarded the swarm of men; her main focus was to locate the leader - the man she had heard the soldiers call 'The General'. Once Isabel found him, she would give it her all to repay him for all he had done to her.

~~~

Rapidly things had fallen apart right before his eyes. Qunar had never seen anything like it. Battle after battle, he had always managed to predict his adversary's movement; and though this case was most unusual, the outcome had been assured. Over 200 men he had brought with him and now, as he surveyed the handful of men that remained, Qunar stood in complete shock and humiliation. He had never lost a battle. He had always managed to outwit his enemy. But this night...

He looked up to see the pitch black canvas that had overtaken his army, now filled with the sight of an overwhelming moon. Its' pale rays rained down upon the battlefield, as if to declare victory over his dark army of destruction.

Qunar clenched his teeth and let out another primal scream of frustration. He raised his fist defiantly at the perfectly formed celestial being and shook his head. No. This was not it. As long as he still had breath in this mortal host body, there would be a narrow pathway towards victory.

This is not it. It wasn't over.

Qunar spun around, is eyes darting around wildly in search for this pubescent hybrid who was stealing his dream...Khivar's rightful pleasure of seeing Zan's death for the second and final time - never to rise again. He was going to bring his king the honor and glory due him, by bringing him Zan's head on a stake.

Oh it was far from over.

As Qunar focused on the task at hand, he felt a sudden throbbing between his temples. The unexpected ache caused him to stumble forward onto one knee. What was wrong with him?

"Me." Isabel gazed down at the lecherous alien, who has asked that silent, yet audible to her mind, question. "And that's just the beginning."

Qunar smiled as he recognized the voice, in which the disdain was far from hidden, speaking to his back. He licked his lips as if savoring the confrontation that was about to occur. In the beginning, Qunar had been less than appreciative of the revelation of his prisoner's escape; but he now had come to realize how it had come to work in his favor.

In fact, he couldn't have planned for a better act of retribution. After all, he had wanted Zan to witness his own sister's slow, torturous death.

As he rose, every muscle in Isabel's body instinctively tensed, and she furrowed her brow in suspicion of her enemy. He was up to something.

"Vilandra, child, you have no idea what you have come up against," Qunar chided, as a father would his child. He turned around and met her steely gaze. "You and your family failed the first time at keeping the throne, what makes you think you'll survive the second time around?"

She looked weak; her breathing was laboured and her posture revealed the toll his experiments had taken upon her body. Qunar straightened his posture; his confidence bolstered once more.

Isabel remained silent, absorbing every calculated insult, allowing it to fuel her anger - her rage. She had managed to draw off most of the troop towards the south end of the empty plain, allowing her a one-on-one confrontation.

"Really Vilandra," he clucked his tongue, "at least the first time you had some concept of what was going on." Qunar raised one eyebrow in feigned disbelief. "From what I've gathered you and your brother are rather clueless when it comes to your past," he raised his hand to his lips, as if speaking words for her ears only, "that you don't even want to return to Antar."

"You're wrong." The statement was strong, sure and confident.

Isabel's eyes glazed over as she felt the electrifying heat searing the palms of her hands, as it urged her to be released.

"Then why didn't you leave with the other half of the Royal 4, hmmm?" Qunar inched closer; a slow smile crept upon his face. "You see, I think that living on this exile of a planet has softened you...in fact, rumor has it that you don't quite recall your previous life on our beloved planet."

Isabel shifted her weight from side to side. She had made progress over the past several days; but the General was right. She still did not recall her life as Vilandra. There were moments where she received glimpses into her past, but not everything. And as much as she felt a new dedication and duty to saving Antar from Khivar's hand, it felt like she was still disconnected to that source which would fill everything in. Isabel knew she wasn't whole...not yet.

The long pause gave Qunar a moment to read her emotional state...where her head was at. In that one brief moment where Vilandra had hesitated, he had seen a million thoughts flash before her eyes. Still uncertain...still human...

Good. It was working.

"I can see why these humans might seem appealing to you." Qunar tilted his head to the side, subtly testing the waters. "Your mate has quite the attachment towards you, despite the revelation of your hybrid genetics."

"You disgust me."

Qunar chuckled at her child-like insult. "Is that all you have to say? I must say that I am disappointed in you Vilandra." He was about to laugh at the foolish child, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sudden change in her demeanor.

"Don't speak that name again!" Isabel barked angrily.

Qunar took a step back, startled at her surge of strength and confidence.

"Let me inform you about a few things, General." Her voice dripped with syrupy sweetness, yet her tone was curt. "I have been put through hell by Khivar...and by your hand."

Qunar furrowed his brow, not liking the turn this was taking. She approached without any limp or trace of any weakness. He cursed the Royal Four under his breath. Their resilience brought unexpected complications.

"By my calculations, you've tried to kidnap or kill the people whom I hold dearest." Isabel slowly closed the gap between her enemy and herself. She could hear the soft crackling of energy that hummed within the closed palm of her hands. "So," she said darkly. "You'll forgive me for asking you to kindly refrain from referring to me as anything. In fact, don't speak at all."

Qunar narrowed his gaze at the disheveled, self-glorified, hybrid princess. She daned to give him orders? "Forgiven," he drawled, with a smile plastered on his face. "Perhaps we shouldn't talk at all." At a moment's thought, he aimed the elkarl, which he had hidden at his side, and fired.

Isabel was ready. She dodged the bright red light that flew past her ear - the warm flush of her cheek revealing to her just how close it had come to striking her. Dropping to her knees, Isabel raised her arm in a sweeping arc and released the white, crackling burst of energy from her body - first her right hand, and then her left.

Qunar jerked backwards, stumbling almost falling onto his backside, when the two swift blasts of energy sped towards him. He managed to avoid the first blast quite easily, as she was too eager to kill him that her aim was off by a few inches; but he was unable to maneuver around the second energy burst, and his neatly pressed uniform received the brunt of its scorching fury.

Crouching low, balancing on the balls of her feet, Isabel watched the General tentatively, as she anticipated his next move.

Qunar stood with his hand pressed against his shoulder. He looked down, in disgust, at his arm. Lifting his hand from his right shoulder, he examined where Isabel's energy blast had made contact. His eyes flashed ebony, as his finger slipped through the oval hole that had been burnt into his uniform. Qunar snapped his around, glaring down at 'the princess'. "That," he growled, “was a new uniform."

Isabel rose to her feet as the tall blonde soldier began to circle around her - his eyes never leaving her - as if he was scrutinizing his opponent's possible strengths and weaknesses. Isabel backed away a couple of feet, joining her enemy in the ceremonial ritual. "You are too confident General. And you don't know your opponent very well."

Qunar kept his gaze fixed upon his moving target. "You are weak, Vilandra. You may put on a good front; but if I'm correct, from the bruises and cuts on your tired body, it's just putting off the inevitable. "

"You talk a good game, General..."

"Don't even recall my proper name, do you?" Qunar sneered. "And we were such good friends, before you attempted to prevent your family's death."

Isabel had had enough. She slowed her pace until she came to a stop, confronting the General face to face. "I don't need to know your name to kill you." Raising her hands she released a large voltage of energy - larger than she'd ever seen before - aimed towards 'the General'.

Qunar raised his hands and formed a crimson wall of magnetic energy in front of him just as Vilandra's attack reached an inch from his face. Extending his arms out in front of him, he removed the closing threat upon his mortal host and himself. The powerful force that continued to stream from the tall, yet fragile being standing before him was intense and startling. Qunar had never seen Vilandra mount such an extreme attack even when she did not have such a limited knowledge of her powers.

Isabel's hands were trembling as she continued the onslaught on her opponent. If she were to succeed, she would again kill another living being. The thought made her shudder.

Qunar felt a shift of focus in her attack and used it to his advantage. He spun out of the linear stream of kinetic energy and mounted his own attack. With one swift motion, dropping to the ground, Qunar gained the advantage on his now confused enemy. Lifting his hands above his head, he sent out a short burst of plasma energy, which made contact with his stunned opponent.

"Uhhhh." Isabel felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, as she had the wind knocked out of her. Her left side began to sting and she smelled burnt flesh wafting into her senses. Instinctively she pressed her hand to her injured side. The warm, wet sensation of open flesh began to ooze through her fingers.

Quickly coming to her senses, Isabel spun around to face 'The General', whose hands remained extended and ready for one final blow. Trying to gather her thoughts, Isabel saw images of Michael and Max's faces flash before her. She shook her head and gritted her teeth. It wasn't over yet.

Forgetting her pain and running on adrenaline, Isabel dropped her blood-stained hand from her side and concentrated on Qunar's grim and focused face. He wouldn't suspect her mental attack before it was too late. His focus was solely on her outward, physical attack. She hadn't assaulted anyone in this manner before, but right now it was her only chance of living to attempt another physical attack.

Closing her eyes she searched intently for the guarded mind of the age old soldier. In the dark, empty void she found a silent voice crying out, as if in pain and agony. Isabel followed that voice. And in the dreamscape that she formed within the conscious alien/man, Isabel found herself in a locked room. Her eyes darted around for an exit, but the only entrance/exit was locked.

"Please. Help me...what's happening?" a shrill man's voice cried.

Isabel turned around and found a 30-year old man cowering in the corner. "Who are you?" The man cringed as she approached him.

"Who are you?" he lashed out. "What's happening to me?"

Then it dawned on Isabel...this was the human host. She looked around in the dark, dank and quiet mental prison. "So this is what happens to you..." Isabel whispered her thoughts out loud.

"Just get me out of here."

Isabel looked at the man, full of pity. He couldn't imagine what it was like for him. All of the soldiers she had encountered were real human beings, with lives and families. And some of them would die in this forsaken desert tonight.

Suddenly Isabel remembered what she was doing in the dreamscape in the first place. She turned to the human host and licked her lips, trying to think of how to explain what she was about to do. Isabel let out a frantic sigh. "I'm sorry. This is going to hurt for a little while, but hopefully you won't remember any of this in the end."

The man looked up at her with confusion. "What do you mea..."

Before he could finish his thought, Isabel turned and opened the palm of her hand. In it, there was a ball of white light, about the size of a baseball, and she rolled it towards the locked door. The psychic 'bomb' crackled as it slowly rolled towards the door. Isabel turned towards the human host and looked at him apologetically. "Protect yourself," she hissed. "This is going to hurt...a lot."

With that, Isabel left the dreamscape.

Qunar was about to finish Vilandra off when his motor skills suddenly began to malfunction. He looked over at Vilandra, who stood there unfazed at the knowledge of her imminent death; in fact, her eyes were closed and she was completely frozen, as if in a trance. Qunar frowned. What was going on?

He shook his head. He didn't care. He had waited too long already. Now was his chance to mortally injure one of the Royal Four and accomplish one quarter of his mission. Qunar raised his arm, slowly, as his temples began to ache again and he could hear the frantic cry of his host's consciousness, and prepared to maim his opponent in an effort to draw out his other opponent, and stronger threat.

Isabel awoke from her trance and found herself only moments from another devastating blow at Qunar's hand. She looked down at her side, which was drenched in blood; a small pool of blood had formed at her feet. There was no way she could possibly move quick enough to avoid his blast. "Max." She closed her eyes and accepted the fate sealed before her.

She had done everything she could. The General seemed unfazed by her psychic 'bomb'.

Qunar focused all of his energy to mount another attack, when unexpectedly he felt a sudden searing heat invade his senses. His head was pounding and his ears began to ring mercilessly. "Aaaarrgh." Qunar dropped to his knees as the pain overwhelmed him. "What have you done?" he cried out savagely.

Isabel opened her eyes in time to see Qunar drop to his knees, with his hands clasped over his ears. His face was scrunched up; the pain and agony he was in.

"You witch," he gasped. Qunar opened his eyes and stared up with wild, manic eyes. They were pulsing, changing from the normal crystal blue eyes, to a glistening ebony.

Isabel had never seen such a sight. The muscle under his right eye began to twitch, as he seemed to be struggling with something internally, while endeavoring to rise to his feet. Isabel could only watch, as she was now pressing both her hands against the flood that flowed from her unattended wound. A sudden light-headedness began to come over her and her vision began to blur.

Qunar fought off the strong rise from the human host to extradite his consciousness from the cellular body. With an overwhelming surge of energy, which left him almost breathless, Qunar sent the human consciousness back to its' prison; leaving him to deal with the weak, simpering hybrid before him. He stood in full Antarian regalia, as he towered over the disheveled and bloody princess. Qunar knelt down beside Vilandra and tipped her ashen face up, until her gaze was parallel to his. "You kashkar," he hissed. "I was going to wait until your brother could witness your slow death, but this is tiring and unamusing to me." He pushed her down roughly, wiping the fingers, which had held her obstinate chin, on his dusty trousers.

~ * ~

"Get away from her." Max encountered several soldiers while slowly making his way towards the two shadowy figures, lit under the harvest moon, and quickly dispatched of them. He tried not to use fatal force, as he was reminded that there were human hosts involved.

Qunar spun around to see Zan staring smugly at him. His race had always felt so superior to the Iturians.

How sweet it would be to exact revenge.

"General," Captain Leisner called, running up alongside his commander. "We could not find..."

Qunar glanced at the captain with disdain. "No need," he growled. "They've kindly surrendered." The corners of his lips slowly curled into a gleeful smirk. "Haven't you, Zan?"

"Don't do it Max!" Isabel exclaimed weakly.

Max glanced down at his sister, who, under the pale rays of the moon, seemed to be seriously injured. The small dark pool by her side seemed to be growing. "Let her go," Max barked tersely.

"I don't think you're in the position to be giving orders, do you?" Qunar chided. He glanced down at Vilandra, who had been drifting in and out of consciousness. With a nod, Qunar motioned Leisner to take hold of the captive.

Max clenched his fists as he watched the soldier to Qunar's left, drag a weak and pale Isabel up to her feet. He took a step forward her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Qunar warned. He glanced over at Vilandra once again. It appeared Zan would have the pleasure of seeing his sister die. The thought brought a smile to his face. Finally things were working out as he had planned.

"You and I will settle this alone." Max glared at the man who appeared to be an incredibly insane Halloween costume. He glanced over at Isabel, whose expression was fearful and tired. His proposition should have piqued the interest of the resolute General. "A duel - winner gets Isabel."

"So reasonable," Qunar smirked. "I've realized it happens when you feel that something is at stake. He gestured for Captain Leisner to step back and give them room for the battle that was about to erupt. This battle would be over in a matter of minutes.

Max rolled his shoulders back, loosening his tense muscles, and he watched Qunar do the same thing. For his powers to flow freely, Max knew that he needed to stay relaxed. He glared up towards the heavens and sent up a brief prayer.

Once Max had mentally and physically prepared himself, as much as he dared, he clasped his hands lightly together, rubbing them and feeling the hot, pulsing force that poured from some deep unknown source.

Everything depended on what happened at this very moment.

~~~

After much protest, Kyle reluctantly watched Liz and Jesse escape from their makeshift hiding place and scurry around the trail of bodies Max had left in his wake.

"Take the Evans' home," Liz had told him.

Kyle groaned inwardly, as he felt Mr. and Mrs. Evans' anxious and grave expressions bore into the back of his head. Glancing one last time towards the lip of the crevice, where he had seen Liz for what could have been the last time, Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. There was nothing he could do except take the Evans to safety - something Max had commanded him to do - without Liz or Jesse. Silently he rebuked himself for allowing Liz and Jesse to walk out without a struggle. Stupid.

Kyle looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Evans and shook his head free of his own preoccupation. It wasn't the time or the place. "We have to get out of here."

~~~

What could he really do?

Jesse followed Liz foolishly into the dangerously dark desert. His heart was racing as they stumbled towards the small figures in the open desert. There were possible killers littered across this area, and they had no assurance that they wouldn't pop up at any second. At least Liz had powers...what was he going to do? Threaten them with a lawsuit?

Jesse closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn't get someone killed by this insane stunt; or for that matter, himself.

~~~

Liz felt Jesse's trembling hand on the small of her back, as she attempted to maneuver around the several unconscious soldiers at their feet. Spreading her fingers out, Liz cautiously sparked a tiny light, the size of a quarter, in an attempt to light the way. Her powers had developed into something more than just changing atoms and healing creatures - now she could produce her own source of light. She kept her new found powers quiet - unsure of how everyone would take it, especially so, since it began after her attempt to heal Max.

Before she could allow the light to assist her in traversing across the desert plain, her foot caught against something hard and she fell flat on her stomach. It stunned her, but she was unhurt. Liz had braced herself with her hands, but Jesse's unexpected weight atop of her knocked the wind out of her.

"Sorry," he whispered, struggling to get up. He fumbled several times, causing her to grit her teeth in agitation.

Liz waved off the stuttered apologies. She produced the small light once more, shining it in front of her, curious as to what had caused her to fall. "Ahhh!" Liz jumped to her feet; the grey, ashen face, which was inches from her own, filled her with an intense wretching feeling. Its' eyes were opened and rolled back into its' head.

Liz took a few deep breaths, waving her hands frantically, as if stemming the flow of tears and the overwhelming urge to throw up. She tried to gather what remained of her composure, when she heard Jesse beckoning her. "Something's wrong," he said excitedly. His arm waved frantically to the suddenly bright plain, where the trail of bodies seemed to lay fallen, indicating Max's path towards Isabel and the battle.

The immense harvest moon seemed to draw even closer from the infinite skies above, as Liz nervously approached the tension-filled scene that was being played out in front of them. The General and Max were engrossed in each other, while Isabel and her guard seemed to watch intently.

"We've got to get Isabel, while they're distracted," Jesse exclaimed fearfully. Liz held Jesse back as they peered anxiously upon the battle of wills. "Aren't we going to do anything?" His voice was shrill and angry.

"We can't just jump in." As she looked on, she had no clue why she felt such calm. It was as if she knew this event must take place.

Jesse kept pushing forward, as she had a hard time holding him back. Liz frowned; frustrated that he would not listen to her. She glanced at him, noticing his focus was directed elsewhere; following his gaze, Liz realized why Jesse was so agitated. As they slowly moved in closer, but remained hidden behind some wide boulders, Liz realized that Isabel's clothes were drenched in blood. Isabel's usually fair face was ashen, almost grey; and her full lips were tinged purple.

Liz felt another wave of nausea come over her. This was bad. She felt her heart pounding against her chest as she forced her gaze over where Max and the 'General' circle each other. Please God...

It was up to Max at this point.

[jayta]

Chapter Sixty Two

***
Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.
- Carl Jung
***

The sharp, jagged structure that loomed over them was immense and mind-boggling. It’s black, shadowed hand hovered menacingly over its’ metallic frame. What psychotic engineer created this weapon of doom? Michael felt his heart pounding against his chest – in part from the race to find the project, but also from the instantaneous shock of stumbling into the laboratory and seeing this monstrosity.

There was no way they were piggybacking this thing out of Saren Dari.

“Quirinius,” he snapped. “Do you have the hydrogen grenades?” The youth’s gaze remained fixed on the structure that remained operational…for the moment. “Que!”

Quirinius jerked his head around and stared wide-eyed at Michael. “Sir…I’ve never seen anything like it,” he gasped, as if in awe. “I couldn’t even fathom creating…”

Michael furrowed his brow. The kid was admiring it. He rolled his eyes. “Give me those grenades,” he barked, glancing nervously at his watch. They had another minute and a half before Hani took off without them. “And make yourself useful; keep an eye at the door.”

He hastily grabbed the two H-grenades from Que’s hand and raced over to the weapon. Michael had no idea what this thing could do, or how it worked, but he was going to make damn sure that they would never find out. Quickly he punched in a short sequence of codes into the panel linked to the grenade and securely attached the first of the two silvery-grey boxes onto the structure. 5 minutes – that’s all they would have to escape the destruction that was about to rain down on Khivar’s hiding place. Michael glanced behind him to check on their escape route, searching for the lean, muscular build of the dark-skinned Antarian, but saw no sign of him. His whole body tensed. Had they found him? Michael frowned. He had heard no commotion, and he was certain that Que would have found a way to warn him of danger.

“Que!” he whispered irritably. “Where are you?”

“Right here, sir!” the low, but young voice of the soldier replied.

Michael peered around the corner of the weapon to find Quirinius staring intently at the machine. “What the hell are you doing?” He glanced behind him, making sure that there were no guards clamoring down the glowing red corridor.

“I’m just downloading the schematics of the weapon, Sir.” Quirinius pointed down to the thin yellow cables that were streaming from a small, dull matted, grey panel. “I thought that the Gen…”

“Don’t tell me what you think!” Michael growled. His antics could have gotten them killed. “I ordered you to watch the entrance and you disobeyed my orders!”

Quirinius raised his eyes to meet Michael’s. “C-Commander,” he stammered, realizing the infraction he had incurred. “I d-didn’t intend on…” His voice trailed off.

Michael gazed steadily at the anxious private, who seemed scared witless at the wrath he had unintentionally incurred. He understood the anxiety the officer felt on his first mission, and the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins; Rath, he, had been a precocious teen when his father had enlisted him into the Army. Radim had hoped it would curb whatever mischievous tendencies he had; but being in the Royal Army only invigorated his already vivid imagination and his roguish ways. Michael waved the soldier off and temporarily dismissed the minor infraction. “Finish what you started,” he glanced briefly at his watch, “you’ve got 15 seconds before we gotta move!”

Quirinius smiled gratefully at him.

Michael sighed. He didn’t have time for this. Turning on his heel, he set the other grenade and secured it on the structure. With a flick of his thumb, Michael started the time sequence. “Private! Let’s move!”

Quirinius nodded, removing the cables from the narrow panel and slipped it into his side pocket. “Ready, Sir!”

Michael motioned, with a slight jerk of his head, to move out. After securing the perimeter, he followed closely behind Private Quirinius into the corridor, where several of Khivar’s men had begun to secure the exits. “Intruders!” a loud, raspy voice screamed, alerting the previously oblivious soldiers to their presence.

Michael pulled Que behind him and gazed sternly at the youth, whose experience showed on his face. “Get out of here! Meet Hani and get out of here!” He shoved Que again, and motioned him distractedly, to head towards the ventilation shaft that hung above the corridor 10 feet away, that he had just noticed.

“But Commander…”

Michael quickly dispatched two soldiers who had come at him with two stun guns, maneuvering around them and shocking them with their own weapons. “Don’t make me say it again, Private,” he breathed heavily, as he turned around to face his next attackers.
Quirinius seemed to hesitate, yet slowly began to bramble towards the shaft, which had a narrow ladder connected to the north wall. Michael kept a close eye on his man, making sure he exited before focusing his sole attention on the legion of 20 men that had scrambled into the narrow corridor.

He took a deep breath, praying that Tess wasn’t in as much trouble as he was right now.

~~~

“Where did all of these guys come from?” Tess exclaimed tersely. “Have you made contact with Commander Guerin yet?”

They had been making their way through the quiet corridors, careful to avoid encounters with the several groups of soldiers patrolling the area. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud voice boomed over the intercom system of intruders. Once that call had been made, the corridors had been lined with troops, heading in the same direction as Michael and his men had gone.

Oh God, please don’t let them find them.

Tess had tried to contact them mentally, but a dampening field seemed to have been placed on the surrounding area.

“Your Highness, we must locate Prince Zander quickly; the longer we stay, the tighter their security will become,” Yasu warned, as he peered around the sharp corridor.

“Well I don’t see you doing anything to help,” she snapped, glaring at her counter-part, who had been of no help since their mission began.

“I do not suppose to direct Her Highness,” Yasu replied solemnly. His usually hazel eyes, now were enveloped in an ebony pool, which seemed characteristic of the Antarian race – their markedly dilated pupils – during battle, as she saw while reviewing battle footage.

“Well then, help me out here and find out what the hell happened to Michael…Commander Guerin.” The stress of the mission was getting to her. She could feel herself trembling – as if she felt a chill. Taking a deep breath, Tess focused again, trying to locate Zander; she didn’t know what success she would have when the dampening field seemed to hinder her powers.

“Incoming,” Yasu whispered, pulling her into the inlet between a metal cabinet and the corridor wall.

Tess breathed out slowly, unable to reach her son. Her mind began to race as a flood of horrible scenarios began filling her mind. She knew that helpless voice she had made contact with earlier had been her son. Zander. Suddenly her breathing became more shallow and frequent. The pain had been reeling.

“We have to find him,” she gasped, as the images of her son being tortured seemed to batter her already worn mind. “Yasu we have to find him.” Tess grabbed his lapels in frustration and fear.

Yasu’s expression remained stoic, though his eyes seemed to waver between its’ war-like appearance, and its’ almost ‘human’ counterpart. “Your Highness, I do have a suggestion, but it is a very high risk bid in an attempt to rescue your son.”

Tess gazed steadily at this young soldier, who had no field experience; his carriage now seemed to lead her to believe otherwise. She debated whether she could trust this soldier. Was he trying to bring home some unspoken valor to his family? Was he trying to make a name for himself? Was he trying to impress his fellow soldiers? Tess asked herself all of these questions as Yasu had momentarily turned away to inspect the corridor. He turned around and stared discerningly at her. “Are you willing to take this risk?”

Tess leaned forward, as if inspecting him closer, and then returned to her upright position. She met his wary gaze. “Yes. Anything for Zander.”

~~~

“General Garrick, as you can see, we’re in the middle of a crisis!” Nicholas spat, glaring at the fat pompous leader/architect, who, previously, had been insisting that their experiments on Zander had been necessary, now was trying to revive the disagreement.

“My men will take care of it. There’s no way the intruders, whoever they are, will escape. Our facility is completely secure.” The balding, jello-molded figure waved a dismissive hand towards Nicholas, as if swatting away a pesky fly; it was hard to believe he had been honored with several commendations.

Nicholas raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then how would you explain their ability to penetrate our defenses and evade our security system?” He tilted his head slightly, as the general seemed at a loss of what to say. Nicholas folded his arms across his chest. “That’s what I thought,” he smirked.

“Well, my men,” he pointed to the multi-visual 3D plasma projection, which revealed guards slowly overwhelming the intruder by sheer numbers, “seem to be doing a fine job.”

Nicholas frowned. He had expected an attack from the Loyalist contingent, after discovering that a set of blueprints of the base had been leaked; but as he studied their faceless intruder fending off over 30 soldiers in armed combat, something caught Nicholas’ eye. “Zoom on the intruder,” he barked at the operating security’s officer.

The fighting style was familiar. As the hologram zoomed in on the intruder, a flash of curly blonde locks flashed across the screen. The Loyalist uniform was deceiving, but as Nicholas studied the matchless fighting form, he realized that this was no ordinary spy; in their midst was the great Second in Command – Rath, son of Radim. A mischievous smirk formed on Nicholas’ lips.

“What?” General Garrick asked, as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Nicholas shook his head, replacing the smirk with a blank expression. He looked up at the oblivious General. “Nothing,” he dismissed. “I just remembered that I have something to attend to.” With that, Nicholas exited the Com Centre and began his journey towards Sector L21.

Meeting with Rath would be quite amusing.

~~~

Kyle and the Evans had just stepped in the door when they were confronted by a surprise visitor. “Hello,” the spiky haired owner of The Centre greeted solemnly. Kyle frowned. “Brody?”

He did not confirm his identity, but continued with his apparently single-minded train of thought. “Where is Max?” he asked anxiously.

Mr. and Mrs. Evans turned questioningly towards Kyle and glared at him to come up with a brilliant explanation, as they had done so easily in the past, when the group of teens had managed to keep the Evans’ from discovering Max and Isabel’s secret. Kyle tilted his head suspiciously to the side, moving closer to Brody, who never ever showed up at his employee’s homes. “Are you really Brody, right now? Or are you that guy?”

Kyle kicked himself mentally as he realized how ‘teen’ he sounded just then.

“Mr. Davis, is it?” Mr. Evans interrupted, obviously unhappy with the way Kyle was acting.

Brody glanced momentarily at Mr. Evans and then turned back to Kyle. “Where is he?”

Kyle frowned. “Why do you need to know?” He glanced at the Evans’, whose expression seemed more confused than ever, since their shocking revelation about Max, of which they still did not know the full account.

“I’ve come to help,” ‘Brody’ frowned, seemingly unhappy about his reluctance to spill about Max’s location.

“I don’t know what you can do to help…”

“Does he know about Max too?” Mrs. Evans exclaimed, looking dejected at the idea that she was the only one that didn’t know about his secret.

“No, Mrs. Evans,” Kyle protested, hating to see them so upset. He wanted to explain, but there seemed to be more urgent matters, which seemed to include Brody.

“Tell me what you can do to help them.”

‘Brody’ seemed hesitant to reply in front of the Evans. “I cannot go into details, but it is urgent that I speak to Max.” Brody’s eyes locked onto his, with a haunting intensity.

“Uh, he’s in the desert,” Kyle replied.

“Give me the co-ordinates.”

Kyle stared blankly at the alien-possessed Brody. “Uhhhh,” he stammered. “I can’t tell you the exact co-ordinates.” Kyle turned to the Evans’, hoping that they might be able to help him out.

They shared his blank expression.

“Fine,” ‘Brody’ sighed irritably. “Then you will show me?” He looked intently at Kyle, as if his answer better be a resounding ‘yes’.

Kyle swallowed hard. He glanced back at the Evans’, who tensed at the mention of returning to the horror show in the dark desert. “You’ll stay here?” he asked nervously. It almost filled him with a sense of relief.

The Evans’ nodded uncertainly.

If the Evans’ had demanded to tag along, he knew he’d hear it from Max, if anyone got out of this alive…

Kyle shook his head. They were going to all live. They just were. Turning to ‘Brody’, Kyle was determined to help in whatever way possible; he hadn’t felt right leaving them in the desert like that, especially Liz and Jesse. “Let’s go.”

~~~


The duel had begun with an intense round of plasma blasts from each opponent. It was a circular dance, with each alien matching tit for tat. Max tried to strategically find a weak point in his attack, but the General was well trained; while he himself remembered much of his training, there was still some points of weakness in his defense and his tactical attack. It also didn’t help that most of his powers had not yet regenerated from the immense power surge he expelled in getting his enemy’s attention.

As they were locked in matching power blasts, each exerting as much of his strength in trying to topple the other or at least, making them lose their footing, Max couldn’t help notice how fast Isabel was fading. She was still standing on her feet, but barely, with the added help of her guard. He needed to get this over with and fast.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Max pressed in on Qunar with as much power as he had ever exerted before, in an attempt to finish this duel. The green glow of the energy blast brightened, almost blinding him; it seemed to work, causing Qunar to fall back a couple of steps. Max closed his eyes in relieve. It was almost over.

Just as he was about to send out one more burst of energy, the General’s posture seemed to change - where he seemed to be struggling under his attack, Qunar’s stance lengthened, as if he was pulling himself by his bootstraps, and summoning some reserve. His plasma blast intensified; Max could feel the heat breaching through his own blast and searing his flesh. He shrunk back at the unexpected strength of Qunar’s power.

Max felt his knees quivering under the tremendous weight of the forward blast. “Ugh,” he grunted.

He closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening. God you were supposed to be with me. Max had no idea what this was. He went into this duel with confidence and now he was about to crumple under the pressure.

~~~

Qunar couldn’t see Zan’s face, but he knew it would have been priceless. When he overestimated his opponent during his armed attack, Qunar realized his mistake. And he never made the same mistakes twice. Though he was weakened from his previous battle with Vilandra, he was quite certain that Zan was even more tired after the display several hours before. And Antarian powers never regenerated in mere hours, not after the expenditure Zan had released. So he played it cool. He did not hold back, in case Zan was weaker than he had let on; but still he held his power in reserve.

As the battle began, they seemed equally matched; both able to sustain the plasma burst for an extended period of time, keeping their enemy at bay. But when he least expected it, Zan made his move with an energy surge forward, causing him to stumble back and give ground. Qunar had been impressed; it even had caused him to wince slightly. But Zan had exposed his last attack prematurely, in which he was ready.

The reserve had proven too much for the ‘king’. It made him want to laugh. How pathetic these human creatures were.

As he pressed down, locking Zan in such a position that he had no other choice but to fall onto his knees, as the full weight of his plasma blast bore down on him. It would be sweet - so sweet.

~~~

All Liz could do was stare in horror. As the crackling, crimson ball of energy bore down on Max, enveloping his whole body, she was about to faint. “God, please!” she whispered under her breath.

“Liz, we gotta do something,” Jesse cried out once more. She had told him that Max was going to be the one to save her, but from his vantage point, there was no way that was going to happen. He couldn’t wait any longer. While Liz was distracted he made his move. Stealthily under the cover of night, he crept along the boulders that lined the rugged landscape until he was only a few feet from where Isabel was. If he could just distract the guard, there was a possibility of giving her an opportunity to escape. Jesse looked around for anything he might use as a weapon.

Liz suddenly felt like her stomach was doing a cycle of the wash. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her and she found herself unable to move. Suddenly a sharp dull pain was stabbing behind her eye, as if someone was trying to gouge out her eye. Her knees collapsed from underneath her and Liz felt like she was drowning. She tried to call for help; searching for Jesse, who seemed to have vanished, but found empty space.

With what strength she had left, Liz managed to crawl out from behind the boulder, trying to reach Max. Something inside her kept telling her to reach Max…

~ * ~

Darkness shrouded her surroundings. Liz furrowed her brow, as she lightly caressed her temple, where the sharp pain had suddenly dissipated. The nausea, the pain, everything was gone. Tentatively she pushed herself up from her knees to her feet. Where was she?

Liz surveyed her surroundings only to again confirm that she was in darkness. She licked her lips nervously, as she tried walking around, unsure whether there was even a floor. “Uh, hello?”

‘It’s time.’

The voice was like nothing she had ever heard before - low, raspy, yet gentle and kind. It seemed to speak with authority.

“Who are you?” Liz spun around, trying to find the source of the voice.

‘You’ve been waiting, trying to understand,” the voice continued. ‘It is time.’

“Time for what?” she asked in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

‘You will see.’

~~~

“Max, nooo!” Isabel’s voice screamed weakly, as if she were out of breath. She struggled against her guard’s strong grip. “No.”

Her body collapsed against the guard’s body. She had no strength. The life blood ebbed, as she watched the monstrosity defeat her brother.

~~~

It was almost time. Another few inches and Jesse would be close enough to pounce on the unsuspecting guard…if he only Liz was there to distract him.

~~~

Liz was startled awake by a sudden crack of loud thunder. She was sitting on the ground with her back toward Max and Isabel. Spinning her upper torso around, she saw the horrible alien leaning over an unconscious or dead Max; she couldn’t quite tell at this distance. Liz bit her bottom lip and scrambled onto her feet. Her head was throbbing from the trance or spell that she had been pulled into. The voice hadn’t held any malice or animosity. Liz shook her head. That didn’t matter.

“Max!” she cried, as she fell to her knees at his side. Her hands cupped his pale face, as his eyes rolled back. She glared at the alien, who seemed surprised at her sudden appearance.


Liz closed her eyes and lowered her forehead until it touched his. Oh please don’t die. Please don’t die. His shallow breath caressed his cheek as she willed him to live.

The commotion of the outside world faded as she was drawn into another trance, though she was not separated by a wretching pain. Liz found herself floating, as if not physically on the plane. Images of the shooting at The Crashdown passed before her eyes, folding into the revelation of Max’s true lineage and destiny. Her eyes blurred as the images faded away and were replaced by a blinding light.

~ * ~

‘You have carried with you a power not belonging to you. No longer will you be the host of that which is not yours.’

Liz frowned. “What are you talking about?” Suddenly her hands began to crackle with a surge of electricity. Her eyes dropped to the alien powers that had begun to develop a year and a half ago, flickering in the palm of her hand. “What this?” she whispered, suspecting what was going to be requested would mean giving up more than she had already given.

‘You know why you have been given this gift,’ the voice said solemnly. ‘It is not of this world.’

In the centre of the bright light, and image of Max lying limply in her arms materialized.

‘It does not belong to you.’

“But why did I get it in the first place,” she protested, not comprehending why she hadn’t died that afternoon at The Crashdown. Or why she had begun developing these powers? Or why she had this amazing connection to Max that was more intense than just the transfer of DNA?

‘And that is the weight of being chosen as a burden-bearer, my child.’

Liz shook her head in confusion. “Wh-what? I’m a what?”

The image of Max began to waver. ‘Time is running short. You know what you must do.’

“But what if I can’t?” Liz cried out frantically, trying to wrap her mind around that she was ‘chosen’ to carry this burden of loving Max, never to be with him.

‘You already have, my dear child,’ said confidently as it faded into the distance.

~~~

Max could feel himself slipping away; his consciousness unable to deal with the harsh blow Qunar had surprised him with. He had taken the brunt of the blow, although he knew he should have been dead, with the exception of his own plasma burst dispersing the main blow. His heartbeat had slowed and it everything was beginning to blur around him.

“Hold on Max,” Liz whispered, as she peered into his eyes. Her round puppy dog eyes seemed darkened by an unspoken weight.

Max let out a ragged breath as he furrowed his brow. She was planning something; he could read it in her eyes.

“Just hold on. You’re going to be fine.” She plastered on a half-hearted smile.

“What are you planning?” he coughed, fitfully.

Liz cupped his face in her hands and lowered her lips to his. “I’m lifting both our burdens.”

~~~

Qunar frowned as he was surprised by the human mourner. It was pathetic…really. He was prepared to kill them both, but he found himself weakened by his quick expulsion. The pause would give the wretched human waste to mourn her hybrid lover before he disintegrated both their flesh into a puddle of liquid sludge. How delightful it would be.

“Sir, do you want me to finish him?” Captain Leisner offered.

Qunar shook his head and slowly clenched and unclenched his fist. “That will not be necessary.” He cleared his throat, slowly approaching his victims. “This is a pleasure I want to experience myself,” he sneered. Lifting his hand and watching the small but growing crimson energy field grow in the palm of his hand, Qunar aimed his blast towards their cerebral cortexes.

“Noooo!” Isabel shouted, horrified at the offer. Summoning whatever strength she had left, Isabel struck out at her guard and grabbed Qunar’s wrist and re-directed his blast into the night sky.

As Jesse searched for some type of weapon to use against the kidnappers, he heard her urgent cry. Jesse spun around to see Isabel stun the guard and go after the leader. The guard seemed stunned for a moment. He saw his opportunity. Rushing towards the leader to assist Isabel, who was easily pushed to the side, Jesse saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Just as Isabel lamely ambled onto her feet, her sole attention focused on the alien leader, the guard rose to his feet and aimed a oddly shaped weapon in her direction. “Isabel! Watch ouuuut!”

Before there was a chance to turn around, she felt a hard heavy body crashing into her; and as she was already tired and unable to carry her own weight, Isabel collapsed under the unexpected collision. “Uhhhhh!” she breathed out raggedly, as she the darkness embraced her.

~ * ~

Liz pressed her lips against hers. The warning of many voices filled her head. She would set to rights the crash that happened almost 2 decades ago.

‘…since we were genetically created to be each other’s partners, there is some connection between us. This connection allows us to share a bond that connects us on another level…’

‘Tess didn't kill Alex...’

‘….You perished in the conflict that enslaves our planet but your essence was duplicated, cloned, and mixed with human genetic materials so that you might be recreated into human beings. My son, you were the beloved leader of our people. I have sent with you your young bride….’

‘It wasn't our time Max and our destiny….’ The sound of her own voice sent a chill through her as she felt a sudden vacuum slowly extracting the warm breath from her body.

“And now we have to say goodbye,” she whispered to a barely conscious Max. “And everything will be as it should.”

~~~

A gust of wind whipped throughout the desert plain. Qunar stumbled backwards at the unexpected change in weather. The mixture of sand and the ferocity of the wind created something like a sandblaster, where the fierce spinning velocity of the natural storm cut at his cellular host’s epidural layer. Protectively shielding his eyes and mouth with both his arms, Qunar turned away from his sitting prey, as the growing funnel cloud enveloped both the human specimen and the hybrid king. He narrowed his eyes, looking on with a grim expression.

What now?

[jayta]

Sorry. I got lost along the way...here is the new chapter!

Chapter Sixty Three

***
At the end of your life you will groan, when your flesh and body are spent
- 1 Sam. 8:20
***

Michael allowed his body to run on automatic pilot. His enemies approached with swiftness, and with a certain amount of disbelief, he found himself responding likewise, with amazing surety and accuracy. But as much as Michael would have liked to believe that this hidden agility and strength would somehow get him out of this mess, as the numbers of guards increased, he knew that would never happen. If he managed to overwhelm them with an energy blast, Khivar would have another fifty men ready for battle. It was all too much.

Hani and Quirinius had managed to transmit one last message to him before all communication was lost.

‘Sir, we are boarded.’

‘Go,’ he had told them irritably.

‘But sir…’

‘I’m not going to make it. I’ll find another way out.’

Those were his last words before the magnetic field cut off all contact.

With a quick rhythmic change, he held off one guard as he raised his other hand and wiped the sweat that was collecting upon his brow. Michael glanced over his shoulder at the open ventilation shaft above. At least he had managed to bide his men enough time to escape. He exhaled loudly, as his heart continued its quick pounding rhythm while he dispatched two more soldiers. Growling loudly, Michael knew he needed to change his strategy. He could not hold them off and wait until the onslaught stopped. Somehow he needed to get out of there – he needed to escape.

“That’s enough. Leave us.”

Michael’s ear perked up at the familiar voice, as the sea of soldiers that filled the corridor halted their attack and seemed to look at each other in confusion. With a sudden shift in direction, Michael watched as the soldiers began to file out of the corridor. As they dispersed, he saw a lone figure at the end of the hallway. He was short in stature - just as he remembered the repugnant commander. “Nicholas,” he breathed, straightening his posture to meet his foe.

The commander smirked, as his dilated black eyes met his, in an attempt to stare him down. “Commander Rath, how nice it is to meet you in the field again?” His tone was sickeningly sweet. “I never expected to see you at my back doorstep!”

Michael swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath and regain his composure. The amount of time he had spent fending off the guards had exhausted a great amount of his physical strength. And now as he faced Nicholas, he knew he needed all of the strength he had both physically and mentally to oppose his strongest adversary yet. “It’s Commander Guerin,” he breathed, trying to hide his fatigue. “And it’s too bad I can’t say the same thing about you.”

Nicholas clucked his tongue and shook his head slowly, as he approached Michael. “You know it’s not nice to insult your host, especially when you broke into my nice, warm home.” His ebony eyes flashed white under the hydrogen lamps in the corridor, as his steps echoed in the narrow hallway. “I just don’t feel safe anymore after what you have done.”

Michael rolled his eyes and snorted. “Give me a break,” he scoffed, at Nicholas’ performance as a damsel in distress. “You’re even more pathetic than I remember.” He rolled his shoulders back, preparing for a surprise attack from the scrawny imp.

Nicholas tilted his head to his right, causing a loud cracking noise; and then repeated the action, but to his left, causing the same result. “You know I will gain much pleasure from watching you squirm under my power,” he sneered. Nicholas stopped three quarters of the way down the corridor and closed his eyes. “Prepare to experience more pain than you could ever imagine.”

Michael stiffened as he found himself paralyzed by Nicholas’ powers. He knew he was unprepared for the attack. He should have seen it coming. Michael kicked himself for not running when he had the chance, instead of exchanging witty banter before Nicholas made his move. He should have blasted him when he had the chance.

~ * ~

Nicholas was pleased with himself. He had stalled the overconfident commander until he had drawn close enough to mentally bar the muscle-bound Loyalist from accessing his motor functions. If he knew he wasn’t being watched, he would have clapped gleefully at the triumph. It was easier than he had expected.

“Khivar will be impressed by your imprisonment, wouldn’t you say?” He circled Michael, inspecting his hybrid captive. “I have to say Commander Guerin,” he smirked. “You aren’t much to look at.” He stopped and looked into the eyes of the blue-eyed Antarian.

Michael hated the way he was being taunted. If he could have freed his hands, it would have been easy to reach out and wring the Iturian’s neck. But there was no release from Khivar’s second in command’s control. He looked down in utter disdain. When he realized that his facial features had not been paralyzed. Michael smirked as he worked up a large wad of saliva into his mouth. He gestured with his head for Nicholas to draw closer.

Nicholas furrowed his brow; his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?” He leaned in closer. “What is it?”

Michael spat in the self-aggrandizing commander who was nothing more than a little boy in grown-up shoes.

Nicholas jerked his head back as he felt the wet, bubbling, bacteria-filled goop slide down his cheek. Quickly he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and forcefully plowed his fist into the sitting target’s abdominal region. This sudden movement caused his soon-to-be tortured prisoner to fall flat on his back.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, as the shock of hitting the marble floor sent a jarring moment of darkness flash before his eyes. His head throbbed and his ears rung. Before he could curse the baby-faced skulk, he felt the hall shake. Michael furrowed his brow, blinking several times, wondering if he was imagining things.

Nicholas moved in closer to Rath so that he could knock him out cold, then he would be able to call in his guards to drag his body into the laboratory. When he focused on the dazed hybrid, a sudden blinding energy blast brokered the two-inch thick steel walls, causing them to melt into a liquid pool at the foot of the wall. “What the hell…?” His concentration broke long, as his attention was drawn to the blinding light that filled the newly built in entrance to Sector L21.

Michael still couldn’t focus well, but he did feel his limbs unexpectedly loosen at his sides. He glanced up at Nicholas, who had stepped over him and was approaching the hole in the wall. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the stars that circled around his head. Slowly he managed to push himself up to his feet and subtly follow behind Nicholas. He had no idea who it was, but it had definitely got him out of the jam he had been in.

“Commander Guerin, get in!” A loud distorted voice boomed throughout the hallway.

Nicholas spun around to see Rath just before he knocked him out with an energy blast.

Michael furrowed his brow at the blinding light that dimmed as he stepped through the hole. “Who is it?” he barked, as he had a sneaking suspicion of who was behind this sudden rescue.

There was no answer.

When Michael climbed aboard the hovercraft that floated parallel to the second floor of the secret base, he headed straight towards the cockpit, locating the stupid leader of the commando escapade. Hani in the pilot’s seat while Que seemed to be manning the weapons control station. “What the hell was that?” he yelled, furious at his soldiers for disobeying orders once again. “This was not our plan.”

Hani and Quirinius looked at each other guiltily. “Sir, we…”

“I told you to move on without me if I didn’t return.” Michael knew from experience that it had been a narrow escape with the help of his young officers, but that did not dampen his rage at the complete and utter disregard for his commands. No man or alien could survive if rogue soldiers existed in the Core. Sure this plan had worked, but only this time. He would never allow reckless behavior that dwelt in Hani or Quirinius into his battalion let alone into the Loyalist Army. As his eyes darted from the young eager officer to the quiet brainy one, Michael knew they would be devastated at his decision to discharge them once they returned to Mount Freiweil, but it was for the best. “You were reckless and could have gotten yourselves killed!”

“I was willing to ignore the first mission slip-ups, but this is something that I am not able to excuse or condone.”

Michael spun around and was about head into the ship’s midsection to analyze the data they had retrieved - he was too emotional to navigate the ship – when he saw Tess standing in the narrow corridor. He had forgotten Tess and Yasu were also along on a separate mission. “Tess…” His anger continued to seethe as he exhaled loudly, trying to calm himself down. “What happened? Did you find Zander?”

Her face was solemn and pale; her eyes dull, as if someone had doused the fire that lain behind them since the day he had met her.

“Don’t yell at them,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Michael tilted his head to the side, worried at her unusual behavior. “What happened, Tess?” He gently guided her from the prying ears of the young officers and led her past Yasu, who sat quietly in the midsection of the ship, and into the small cargo bay.

“Michael…” It seemed that her voice was like that of a child’s.

He guided her to a nearby crate and sat her down. “Come on Tess, tell me what happened.” Her speechlessness made his body tense and thinking back to his unexpected boarding of the hovercraft, he hadn’t heard a child’s voice or cry since he arrived. Michael swallowed hard. It couldn’t have been good news.

Obviously both their missions hadn’t gone exactly as planned.

~~~

Tess wasn’t quite sure what exactly had happened. Everything had been such a blur. They had tried to locate Zander and once she thought perhaps she had, but when she had almost narrowed down the location of her son, the connection vanished. She had scrambled around, trying to reconnect, but there was nothing.

She had lost him again.

Yasu had told her quite calmly that their open door to rescue Zander was closing. Hani had contacted Yasu and informed them that he was already prepared for take off and that Quirinius had just made contact and spoke of the trouble in Sector L21. Tess had tried frantically to locate Zander, but the magnetic fields were making it impossible to reach him.

~ * ~

“We must leave.”

Tess stared blankly at Yasu – his suggestion did not register. She continued to creep along the walls of the busy hallways. If she could keep up a mindwarp long enough to search the rooms along this corridor, she stood a chance at finding her son. Tess ignored Yasu, whose hand had gently grasped her upper arm, began to pull her in the opposite direction.

“We must go.”

Tess spun around. “We are not leaving without my son!” Her chest rose and fell dramatically. She hadn’t realized that her heart had begun to race and that she was breathing loudly. Forcefully Tess ripped her arm out of his hand and continued down the corridor. “He’s here. And I have to find him.”

Suddenly a thunder of footsteps echoed not far, around the corner of the corridor. Tess felt Yasu yank her backward, causing her to lose focus on her mindwarp. Yasu pinned her body against the entranceway of a nearby entrance, trying to avoid detection as a troop of soldiers marched by. She could hardly breathe, as her face was pressed against his chest. When Tess tried to create some breathing room, she felt Yasu push in harder, as the soldiers stopped right in front of them.

It boggled her mind that no soldier even turned a stray glance over in their direction. They were in plain view of their enemies and none of them blinked. And that is when she heard the voices.

“How is the child?” a low raspy voice rumbled. “I want him physically fit when we prepare him for the test.”

“The child is being cared for,” a woman’s voice replied stonily. “His energies have been emerging. Soon he will be ripe for Project Pilan. We have monitored his the pattern of his growing powers and it is following the turn of cyclical moons, General.”

“Perfect,” the General purred. “Once we confirm that Project Pilan has its’ power source, we can turn it on our enemies.”

“What about the intruders, Sir?”

“They are being dispatched at this very moment.”

Tess’ heart sped up at the mention of her son. She didn’t quite understand what they were talking about; she didn’t know how Zander could be involved in Project Pilan. Bracing herself against the crushing weight of Yasu’s insistent protection, Tess managed to gain a minute amount of room to breathe. As she inhaled deeply, she leaned forward and around the corner, still hidden under the shadow of Yasu’s body in attempt to catch a glimpse of the muffled voices.

The man was balding with a thin bar of wispy, salt and pepper locks that ran across the back of his smooth shiny head. His face was worn and wrinkled. Thick dark brows hovered above his grayish blue eyes, which were darting about, as he gazed upon a full-figured woman who stood in full dress, with her back to them.

“Is the information correct?” the female officer asked tentatively. “Has Commander Rath of the Royal Guard been captured?”

Tess’ eyes widened. “Michael?” she said under her breath. Suddenly she felt Yasu’s hand clamp firmly across her mouth.

“Did you hear something?” Tess heard the General ask suspiciously.

“Sir?”

The overweight General peered over the woman’s soldier, and Tess could feel his gaze boring into Yasu’s back. Still, as he approached the sunken entrance against which they hid, there was an expression of confusion, yet no recognition. Under the palms of her hands, she could feel Yasu’s heart pounding. When the General reached out his hand to feel around in the shallow entrance to the room she heard Yasu inhale sharply in conjunction with her own gasp as she feared discovery.

“General, we have had some anomalies within the child’s system,” a new breathless, male voice said. “Our biological monitoring unit has been experiencing a flux since we entered him into the data analysis module.”

The General spun around sharply and acknowledged the new officer. “How does the data read?”

Tess leaned forward again, impelled by the anxiety that filled her heart at the urgency of the soldier’s uncomprehending news. Though she had no idea what they were talking about, if there was something wrong with her son or if they had harmed in any way, they would pay. Yasu held her back, but allowed her enough room to watch the General motion the troops, who had been quietly standing at attention while he held a conversation with this female soldier, to head down the corridor in the opposite direction, while he, the female soldier and this new officer strode quickly in the other.

Once they were a few feet down the corridor, Tess pushed Yasu off of her and peered around the corner, with the full intention of following them. “Yasu…y-yasu,” an unfamiliar voice quietly cracked in their ears. “A-are you there?”

Tess ignored the voice and stealthily began to stalk her son’s captors. She heard the soft shuffle of steps behind her and she knew Yasu was following also. “Hani?” She heard Yasu mutter behind her.

In her earpiece she heard the static break up the confirmation of their contact’s identity. “…es, it is I,” he replied. “W…must leave.” His words were either unfinished or unrecognizable. “Sold…surrounding…lea….5 min…utes.”

At the young officer’s plea, Tess quickened her pace, knowing full well that Yasu would urge her to flee. The three figures ahead of her turned a sharp corner and she lost sight of them for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she sprinted around the corner in time to see a large dull, grey steel door close behind the female soldier as entered the sealed room. Posted outside its entrance were two guards. She moved to engage them, but felt Yasu yank her back and around the corner. Tess pushed him off and glared angrily at his audacity. “What do you think you’re doing?” she barked quietly.

Yasu did not blink at her sudden outrage. He calmly shook his head, like something a parent would do, and positioned her to stand at a certain angle at the corner of the hallway intersection. With a slight tilt of her head, a sudden glint shimmered in the middle of the corridor in front of the two guards. Along with a the two guards and the intricate security system, Tess finally saw what caused Yasu to draw her back – a thin plasma field which filled the height and width of the hallway.

“What are we going to do?” she asked urgently. “Zander’s behind that door.” Yasu’s focus seemed distant and elsewhere. “Yasu.”

The average-height officer turned his gaze on to her, with an expression of sudden clarity. “Wait here.” With that he strode around the corner and out of sight. Tess leaned against the wall, not daring to alert the guards of her presence, if indeed Yasu was intending to draw the guard’s attention away from her. She heard raised voices and the low hum of the plasma field suddenly wind down and a few bright read beams of light fly past her head and into the wall in front of her. Flinching at the sound of loud groans, Tess waited tensely as she heard footsteps approaching.

“Come,” he said curtly.

Tess peered around the corner to see the two guards bound and gagged in the hallway. “Hurry,” she exclaimed, rushing towards the metal door, which had to be at least four inches thick. Determinedly she turned and focused on one of the bound guards, searching for the security code that would allow her access to her son; once she acquired the eight digit alphanumeric code, Tess quickly punched in the code while Yasu stayed on the look out. Her heart raced with anticipation, knowing that just through those doors was Zander’s sweet beautiful face.

The metal doors groaned as the magnetic field slid them into the grooves in the wall. Tess prepared herself for immediate attack, as she stepped through those doors. Instead she was assaulted by an image of a canopy of long cables extending downward from a halo of light into a small oval containment unit, attaching to several portals in its jagged outer veneer. A monitoring station hovered several feet from the main level where she could see the General and the other two officers along with two other men dressed in white robes conversing. No one had noticed their entrance as they seemed engrossed in the problem at hand. The room’s light fixtures flickered rapidly, as if a strobe was its main source of light and every architect and officer was scurrying around the base of the oval containment unit, if she could hazard a guess, to locate the malfunction.

‘Zander?’ Tess called out mentally.

The flurry of activity continued as she motioned Yasu to follow her while creeping stealthily through the crowd of people, blinding the malicious men torturing her son to their presence. “He’s in there,” she pointed to the oval unit, “I know it.”

‘Ma!’

Tess’ heart wrenched as the tearfully frightened mind reached out into the laboratory. ‘Mommy’s coming,’ she reassured, while searching for the optimum route up to the containment unit that had been craned tentatively in the air, with the black cords its only failsafe, and even then, she wasn’t sure they would protect her son from injury.

‘Nonnie!’

The strange name seemed familiar to her. ‘Who sweetie?’ Tess tried to keep her son’s mind elsewhere as she found an angled beam which rose to the ceiling. If she could just manage to shimmy up the smooth structural pillar, she had a chance to reach her son.

‘Nonnie…Andie…’

Suddenly the nickname struck a cord. ‘Grandma Andaria?’ The thought of her mother sent a chill down her spine. Tess closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t lose focus now. ‘Just stay quiet, Zander,’ Tess said calmly. ‘Mommy’s coming to get you.’

As she reached up to gain some leverage to pull herself up onto the beam, Yasu’s familiar hand halted her. “Let me go,” he whispered. “You could fall.”

Tess furrowed her brow and stifled a loud boisterous laugh. She had allowed Yasu to face off with the guards, but apparently the young soldier had gotten the impression she could not take care of herself. The corners of her lips curled slightly. “I will be fine. Besides, Zander doesn’t know you.’ A hesitant look crossed his once stoic face. It was the first sign of emotion she had seen the stiff, well-trained soldier express. ‘I’ll be fine,” she repeated, in a reassuring voice.

At this, Yasu seemed to step back and resign himself to the role of watchout again.

Slowly, Tess shimmied up the beam, using the muscles in her thighs to steady her, as she pulled herself up with her arms. She kept telling herself not to look down and focusing on her goal, Zander. As she came closer to her destination, the louder the voices of Khivar’s men got – to the point where she could understand what they were saying.

“Well fix it!” The General gestured emphatically towards the oval unit. “We do not have time for these unexpected surprises!” he growled.

“Sir, it is not our equipment,” said a lean, undernourished, dark-skinned academic, who was shaking his head fervently. “ The child seems to be unconsciously emitting these electrical charges and our apparatus is not equipped for such large currents. It is flooding our biophysical processing mainframe.”

Tess swallowed hard, absorbing the newly arisen information about her son. Though she had recognized in the last few days which she spent with him, that there was something developing, changing within his delicate body – hearing his voice in her head – she never expected his powers to emerge so quickly. Her powers and that of the other Royal Four’s gestated until they had turned the ripe age of six. But Zander was only 15 months old, there was no possible way that he had developed them so quickly.

“I’m sure you’ve got some magic potion up your sleeve, Architect Beni-yah. Make it so that he can’t think. I don’t want this project destroyed because of one little child.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” Architect Beni-yah stammered.

Tess glanced up at the containment unit which was only a few inches away. Biting the bottom of her lip, she teetered on the cold metal beam and reached for the edge of the module, using all of her strength to draw it close enough to take hold of it with two hands. After taking a deep breath, Tess gripped the edge of the module, where a glass cover sealed the module and leaped off the beam. Her heart raced as she dangled above the laboratory, gritting her teeth as she attempted to work her way to the front of the module, with only the strength of her arms to keep her from plunging to the ground. As her feet swung wildly in the air, they found a flat piece of metal jutting out of the module, which allowed her to gain some leverage on her son’s prison. With a determined effort, Tess managed to heave herself up to the top of the oval unit, that was, she now realized, hovering at a slight angle backwards to her benefit.

“Hurry,” she heard Yasu whisper. “Your façade is wavering.” Tess, who was sprawled on top of the glass, clinging for dear life, glanced backward to see the world perceived was blurring.

‘Damn it.’

‘Bad words,’ she heard her son chide.

Tess looked down into the oval prison and saw her son, who had grown at least an inch since she had last seen him, was naked, except a for a purple cloth that served as a diaper. “Zander, what have they done to you?” she whispered, seeing her breath fog up the glass.

Zander was unconscious. Several thin glowing fibrous wires had been inserted into his arms, chest and legs. It made the blood rush to her face as her vision blurred and her peripheral vision was extended to an almost 360 panorama of the laboratory. Tess pressed the palm of her left hand against the glass, wanting to reach down and rescue her son from the torment he must have been experiencing. “Mommy’s going to get you out,” she whispered, pressing her lips against the glass in an invisible kiss.

Slowly she squirmed up the slippery slope, to the pinnacle of the unit and straddled it, keeping her balance by hanging onto one of the cables that hung down. Tess patted down her clothes, in search of the fine-tipped pen she had received from one of their architects. When her right hand slapped her back pocket, she felt a slender mound.

Got it.

Tess gripped it as she would a regular writing utensil and pressed gently on the narrow button that was under her thumb. A thin green light emanated from the silver pen. The pungent smell of smoke filled her senses.

“What is that?” Tess heard the General inquire suspiciously.

“What?” Architect frowned.

“Smoke. I smell smoke.” There was a pause. “And it’s coming from the module!”

Tess glanced over at the group of five Iturians who were scrambling to find the source of the smell. She looked down at the small body of her son – so pale, so vulnerable – under the glass. The opening she had been creating was almost complete. Zander would soon be free.

Alarms were sounding loudly as she threw the circular piece of glass on the ground and reached down into the module to touch her son. Everyone seemed quite calm, as her mindwarp blocked out the sounds of the room for the moment. The soft, smooth skin under her hand filled her heart with a sense of calm.

She had her son.

“Your Highness, quickly,” her companion urged, pointing at his time device. “We don’t have much time. Retrieve him now.”

Tess began to remove the wires that the architects had attached to him, but before she finished removing the last couple from his nose, she was mentally assaulted.

‘No!’

Tess squeezed her eyes shut as the voice almost shattered her eardrums. “Argh!”

“What is it?” She heard the anxiety in Yasu’s voice, but she could not respond.

‘Bad. Stop,’ the voice said urgently, softening it's tone. ‘No go.’

Tess frowned. ‘Who are you?’

‘Mommy, no go…not yet.’

Tess sat up and peered down at her ashen-faced son. He had not moved or made any noise. ‘Zander, is that you?’ She tilted her head in confusion. ‘Mommy has to get you out of here before they hurt you.’

‘Not yet.’

Tess didn’t understand what he was saying. Of course he didn’t know what he was talking about. She needed to get him out of there. There was no ‘ifs ands or buts’. Tess reached in to the module and began to lift her limp son’s body out of the containment unit when she felt him stir. “Zander,” she gasped. “Oh, my poor baby.”

Tess glanced down at Yasu, who was looking more than anxious now. She looked ahead and saw that the blurring was worse now and that many had begun to hear the alarm. Her focus was distracted at best.

Zander was shackled with thin fibreoptic cords that pierced his skin, like those of Earth’s IV lines, but she was sure their purpose was not to save his life. Her nerves were edging on overload as she fumbled with the last few cords strapped to her son’s body. She knew that it would read on their monitoring system, since she had no more strength left in her to add to her fading mindwarp.

‘He’s flatlining…” an architect stated rather calmly.

Tess grabbed the smooth grey cloth that he had been laid in and wrapped it around her son’s limp body. Searching around her for a decided exit, as shimmying down a metal beam was not an option, she saw the cords that held the contraption above the ground. Wrapping the black malleable coil around her arm and thigh, a trick she had learned from watching Cirque de Soileil with Kyle and Valenti, Tess somewhat jerkily slid down into Yasu’s waiting arms with Zander grasped tightly against her.

“This way,” Yasu hissed, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the back of the laboratory.

“What are you doing?” Tess cried, shifting Zander’s now so slender body into a more comfortable position. “Why are we going this way?”

“We have no time to argue this,” the young officer pointed aggravatingly towards the guards that were now flooding through the entrance door. “We must get out of here.”

Tess nodded, knowing that she hadn’t the energy nor the will power to argue with the Kedran. She caught a glimpse of the navi system in his palm and realized he had been determining their exit strategy, and this was not some ‘Hail Mary’ attempt to look the hero. Silently Tess gave way and followed hurriedly to the narrow sliding door; but as they made their escape, she accidentally tripped on a thick cord that lined the floor, stumbling forward. Yasu forcefully pulled on her arm in an attempt to keep her from falling face-down; she ended up on her knees, gripping Zander protectively.

But in that moment of unforeseeable surprise, Tess was so focused on making sure Zander would not fall that she let go of the mindwarp – easily slipping into unconscious thought.

“THERE!”

Tess glanced over her shoulder as Yasu practically lifted her up onto her feet, all the while running towards the exit, that she almost stumbled again. Her heart raced as she could almost physically feel deep-seated desire of the pursuit of their enemies. Footsteps haunted her, as the echoes filled her ears. Several beams of red energy had come shooting past their heads, as they shrunk from the high-pitched whinny that warned them. Once they escaped through the sliding door, Yasu scrambled the release with the laser pen Tess had been given.

Silently and with apprehension the two crept down the hallways and corridors, awaiting any possible arrival of guards searching for their persons. Ducking into cold storage closets and interspersed usage of both Yasu and Tess’ gifts slowly brought them closer to their destination. Tess was grateful that their tentative escaped kept her mind from focusing on what they had done to her son. His inability to speak and his lack of movement chilled her to the bone. This was not the son she had left.

“Search every corner, hall and staffroom!” a man’s voice barked, not far from them.

Several soldiers jogged down the far corridor, perpendicular to the one she and Yasu were traveling down. When the Iturians had passed she thought they were in the clear and she stepped out into the open only to have Yasu pull her cautiously back, just as the owner of the loud commanding voice walked by. His head turned slightly and Tess was certain that he had seen her; but no alarm was sounded and no voices were raised as the commanding officer slowed and then continued on his way.

“You’re going to have to stop doing that,” Tess groaned, rubbing the crook of her neck.

“I am sorry, Your Highness.” Yasu lowered his head respectfully. “I did not mean…” There was no time to finish his unnecessary apology for saving her hide, as the sound of voices and footsteps trailed behind them.

“In here,” Tess motioned him to follow her, as she noticed the green glowing panel beside the entrance of a storage closet that the soldiers before them, had already searched. She pressed the release and quickly darted into the closet. Yasu gently guided her aside in the dark room, which held shelf upon shelf of crates and containers of all shapes. Licking her lips, Tess looked down on Zander, whom she had tucked into the smooth folds of the blanket-like fabric. The voices lingered in front of their door, as the guards radioed other troops in an attempt to co-ordinate their search.

“The sec…tor E,” static crackled, as if the voice came from some sort of radio, “20 has been searched.”

“Then are we not wasting our precious time here?”” a voice groaned. “I cannot believe we cannot find 2 measly spies!”

“Silence,” an annoyed voice growled. “This is far from over. We must secure all exits. If we have spies, they must have a means of escape..."

Tess lifted the folds of the fabric which concealed her son's face. As her fingertips grazed his troubled brow, she felt the coolness seep into her blood. Slowly her chest began to constrict and her heart felt like it was being squeezed as with a vice. Tess bit her bottom lip and pressed Zander's cheek to hers and held her breath as she listened hard for a sign of life.

The short inhale of oxygen was shallow and couldn't have been enough to sustain him. Oh God no! Tess pulled more of the fabric from her child's cool frame and pressed her ear to his chest. Zander's heartbeat was irregular and labored. She closed her eyes as fear overwhelmed her.

'Not now...not when they had come so close to being free.'

"Come," Yasu beckoned as his body was almost halfway out the door.

Taking a deep breath, Tess held back the tears that threatened to fall and gritted her teeth determinedly at the next few moments of their mission. She closed her eyes and gave herself a pep talk. 'You can do this. We've gotten through much worse than this...we're not going to fall apart now!' Tess once again wrapped Zander into the folds of the fabric and cautiously crept out of their temporary hiding place.

~ * ~

The halls had been crawling with guards, but by the time they had reached the cargo bay, the hallways seemed to empty and the guards were fewer and fewer. Tess had never been so relieved to reach the large sand-infested dockage bay in her life. As they stood hesitantly outside the door, Tess and her companion's eyes met in an anxious fleeting moment. There could be a waiting army beyond the slick sliding metal door; whether all of their hiding and camouflage tactics had been for naught would be known in a few minutes.

Tess swallowed, knowing that precious minutes of her son's life were being wasted because of their fears. With the smallest pressure against the flowing panel, the door opened into the darkened shelter for supplies and weapons. There were only two ships that were docked in the large hangar - a large white pristine freighter built for desert travel and carefully hidden behind it was a small hovercraft which they had managed to sneak into the cargo bay during the shift change and hidden with a camouflage device developed by Architect Noone.

Yasu ran along the nearest wall, deftly evading large crates and hard plastic-like containers. Tess' gaze darted around the bay. Everything seemed eerily quite. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She didn't like the feel of this at all. As she followed Yasu towards their camouflaged ship, Tess couldn't help but think that this had been all too easy.

'They are not that careless.'

"Thank you for giving us the credit," a low, rumbling voice chuckled.

Tess spun around startled by the unseen voice. As she searched for the voice, the dimmed lights of the cargo bay began to hum and soon the whole room was illuminated, revealing a contingent of Iturian guards standing single file horizontally across the length of the room. She stood half in awe and fear and half in complete self-loathing for her overconfidence.

One tall dark-haired soldier stood out amongst the uniformed troop. His chiseled features, like that described of an Adonis, were striking and she couldn't help but admire them in a strangely comforting way. Tess frowned. He seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't place the face.

"Now will you hand over the child?" The arrogant officer stepped forward with arms outstretched; in conjunction, the tightly knit group of officers behind him raised identical weapons of size, shape and color. They were known as 'plascers'. Similar to the elkarl, the weapons did not expand into long staffs, but their force blast doubled that of their counterparts.

Tess closed her eyes with every intention of killing everyone in the encampment. She would not have her child put back in that deathtrap.

"If you want your child to live you will think twice about your actions," the Iturian's voice echoed confidently.

Tess' eyes flashed suspiciously. "What have you done to my son?" she growled, lifting the fold of the purple fabric from Zander's face. "You will pay. You tell Khivar that!" Her whole body was trembling with a throbbing tension.

"Your Highness," the officer said calmly, stepping towards her. "Your son will 'not' be harmed."

Tess stepped back in time with his approach, almost like a slow wary dance. Her eyes narrowed, completely disgusted by his attempt to reason with her, like she had absolutely no idea of what Khivar stood for and his intentions were. He could have cared less if her son lived or died - preferably dead - as long as his throne was secured. And from the snippets of conversation and Loyalist Intel, Tess knew that the monster had full intentions of using her son to do it.

"If you come another step closer, I swear I will disintegrate your whole army." Tess locked gazes with the officer in an attempt to communicate her full intentions. "I have no regrets spilling your blood. In fact, I will enjoy it."

"I know you will not sentence your son to death," the officer said, as if completely ignoring her threats. "And I am not trying to deceive you, Your Highness."

Tess felt her stomach churn as he referred her to respectfully for the second time. There was something about him; though his face remained stoic and calm, his eyes seemed to plead with her for her to listen to what he was saying. 'No.' Closing her eyes and shaking her head, she stepped back one more step. 'It's a trick.'

"It is not," he mouthed quietly.

"I will take care of them, Your Highness!" Yasu's commanding and defiant voice filled her ears as he charged in front of her, pushing her to safety. "Leave!" The back of ebony-colored locks of her tanned companion was to her as she was startled by the move to attack. His body was tense and alert, ready for battle. Tess could see it in his body stance.

The officer seemed unfazed and lifted his hand, flicking his wrist towards Yasu casually. "Hand to hand combat should suffice," he declared., not giving Yasu a second glance and turning his attention back to her.

Tess watched as groups of three approached Yasu warily, circling their prey. Her heart raced praying that he was as strong and stubborn with them as he had been with her during the mission.

"Now, we have the opportunity to speak," the commanding officer said quietly.

"Barak watch your back with her! You know General Garrick has warned us about her powers."

Tess tilted her head to the side, as the officer paused at the warning. 'Barak.' She frowned uncertainly. The name seemed familiar. 'Why?'

"You must trust the One has plans for him," Officer Barak said soothingly.

"What are you doing?" she cried, so confused at his sudden about-face. "Why are you saying this to me?" Protectively Tess pulled Zander even closer to her chest, while backing away.

"He will die Your Highness. I know that for a fact. Even 'you' know that."

Tess bit her lip as she looked down at her son; tears were on the verge of spilling down her cheeks. Her breath quickened as doubts began forming in her mind about what she was doing. 'Could he be telling me the truth?' The thought left her breathless and her chest aching.

How could she leave her son here?

"I would die for him, Queen Ava..."

Tess glared at this Antarian in Iturian garb, vowing his life for her son's. "You are a LIAR!" she screamed. Tess turned around to escape to the still-cloaked ship, but found herself trapped, with two guards coming up behind the rear to hinder her escape.

"He will die if you do not listen to me!" Barak said anxiously.

Tess turned around, a mixture of rage and helplessness. She just couldn't take the chance that by rescuing her son she would be sentencing him to death. As she pressed Zander close to her chest, Tess felt him move. Peering into the folds, her son was choking, gasping for breath, as if a vacuum had formed in the spacious hangar.

"Do you want us to take him?" one guard asked smugly.

Tess watched the commander's face flinch at the triumph in his man's voice. She closed her eyes and shook her head. None of it made any sense. "Please." His voice softened and almost pled for her to believe his lies.

When Tess opened her eyes she found him standing in front of her. His big round eyes staring down upon her. He just stood there, making no move to wrest her child from her arms. She never noticed his silver eyes, which seemed to shimmer under the flickering overhanging lights that illuminated the room. Without a word, he nodded once, as if reassuring her that it was okay for her to let Zander go...

And with a flash, Tess placed the face that was now gazing so calmly at her, as if studying her face for the first time - like that of a painting. He was the soldier who had seen her in the corridor - the one who had let them escape.

"You know that retribution will be made," Tess said quietly, as if testing his silent claim to fealty to the true King. "I will not let my son come to harm..."

Barak nodded. "Your powers are somewhat legendary," he said auspiciously. "And I would warn my men that to take you for granted would be a terrible mistake." He hesitantly reached out for Zander. With an amount of care, he cradled her son in his arms, as if holding a fragile piece of art.

"Men," he barked, his eyes glazed over while addressing his pre-occupied men. "Take care of them." The distinguished officer, whom Tess had turned her child over to, turned on his heel and towards the direction of hallway.

Tess felt like she had made a mistake trusting the Antarian when his back was turned to her, but unexpectedly his stride slowed and he turned around curiously, to face her once again as his men closed in on her. “The General has been alerted that all is well and that the search has been called off,” he said calmly, his steady gaze meeting hers. “Men, be careful during transfer. We wouldn’t want any ‘incidents’ to occur when I leave.” His eyes never left hers. It was like a subtle allusion or inference that seemed to awaken her to the circumstance she was in.

Tess knew what she had to do.

Turning around, she faced the two guards that were approaching confidently, yet with an intelligent posture of unease. She turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye she saw Barak speaking softly to Zander, grazing his lips across his forehead softly. Her attention was drawn back to her would-be captors as they yelled idiotically, as if they were in some war movie, announcing their approach. Clearing her mind swiftly of any distractions, Tess summoned an image of a brooding rain cloud, dense and threatening. Her eyes snapped open like that of a sternly pulled blind, her pupils dilated ever so slightly. The determined soldiers were now quite tense and they had stopped their approach. In the background even the rousing cries of attack and struggle between Yasu and the Iturian guards quiet.

The room was filled with a fine grey mist which thickened each passing minute. Tess scanned the room noting the position of each of the speechless guards and reached out mentally with a power she had only felt once before - in the halls of Roswell High. Systematically she struck the guards with bright white bolts of lightening. The static in the air crackled in the air as she tested herself, striking with one bolt, then two, until she was overloading their nervous systems with energy that could only be described as tentacles strangling their prey.

Tess hadn't even heard the cries of the tormented aliens; she didn't even remember boarding the ship. It had happened all so fast - freeing her son only to lose him, killing at least twenty men without blinking, rescuing Michael...
~ * ~

"I...I couldn't do anything," she whispered, as she fell forward into Michael's arms. But in a moment Tess sat up and looked Michael in the eyes. "I couldn't leave you too."

She searched for understanding, maybe even assurance that she had done the right thing. Tess closed her eyes. Now as she retold the events of her escape, images of the piles of black ashes on the floor of the hangar appeared before her eyes as Yasu pulled her to the ship, to safety.

"I...I was so calm, Michael, like nothing phased me. I didn't even give them a second thought." The words tumbled past her lips, but she wasn't quite sure she was aware of what she was saying. Everything had been so real - the war, the possible loss of her son. It seemed like a game before - chess, where she would strategically move the pieces and if she made the right move she would triumph - but death hadn't been seemed a part of the game until that day.

"Shhhh." Michael's arms wrapped tightly around her. "It's going to be all right."

Tess rested her head against Michael's chest, listening to the slow rhythmic beat of his heart, allowing it to soothe her restless spirit. Zander I'm so sorry. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to flow from the depths of her heart.

Now she had let them both go.

~~~

"Over there...turn here!" Kyle yelled excitedly as he spotted on the horizon of the clear black night, a dim glow.

Brody...Larek, had commandeered his truck and was driving wildly, as if he'd never driven a vehicle before. I suppose aliens don't drive cars...

"When we get there, you'd better pray to whatever Deity you believe in that it's not too late."

Kyle glanced worriedly at Larek's less than cheery disposition. "I bet you're the life of the party on your home planet, huh?"

Larek looked unappreciatively at the lame joke. "There has been so much planning done and to think that all of it will be for naught if General Qunar's surprise attack is a success," he mumbled angrily.

Kyle wasn't sure if he was blaming him for not staying or himself for not getting here sooner. He frowned, as he looked over the scrawny, less-than-heroic figure of a possessed human-alien. How was he supposed to overpower the still numerous aliens that were hanging out in the middle of the desert plain? Kyle tilted his head and scrutinized each body part of the human/alien. Could he beat a 'whole' army?

"Stop staring at me like that," Larek said, with his eyes staring straight ahead.

Kyle quickly turned his eyes to the front of the road. He better not have thought he was checking him out. He was 'so' not doing that. Kyle glanced briefly at Larek and then turned his eyes forward again. Should he say something?

Suddenly he felt the truck come to a jarring halt. They were still several feet from the place where the battle was occurring. Kyle frowned. "Why are we stopping here?"

Larek jumped out of the truck and pulled out a weird round metal object that flowed a fluorescent yellow. "I must make contact with Faigel." Kyle followed his gaze, which was staring intently up into the infinite solar system. His eyes widened in disbelief. "You've got a ship up there?" he cried.

Larek glanced at him curiously, as he pressed a sequence of symbols on the apparent communicator. "Yes. Is that a total foreign concept when you have already seen one?" He shook his head warily and walked away from Kyle.

Kyle knew he shouldn't be stunned or even surprised by anything by now, but it still boggled his mind that there were 'actual' spaceships that could fly in outer space. Of course, not the shuttles that humans sent into space, but real UFOs.

"Let us go."

Kyle turned to see Larek standing atop a sand dune a few feet in front of him. "Everything has been arranged, and if it's not to late, maybe Zan and Vilandra are still alive."

Kyle swallowed hard at his unemotional assessment of the situation, though he shared the same sentiments. He closed his eyes and sighed. Please let them be alive...

~~~

Isabel breathed in sharply as she awoke from her blackout and choked on the dry dust that filled the air. She tried to move, but found a weight hindering her movement, especially under her present injured condition. Her head hurt, as if she had just had entirely too many Jack Daniels. She groaned.

Isabel watch out!

The memory of the frantic cry filled her ears with an unexpected viciousness. Why had the voice sounded so familiar? Isabel pondered that question as she lay there, eyes closed, trying to regain enough strength to remove whatever had her pinned to the ground. The noise around her was muted and she managed to make out who were speaking: The General and her guard. Isabel silently lolled over in her mind where Max was or even whether he was alive. Everything had happened so fast, one motion and blast after another. In her heart, she feared the worst - Max was dead.

The thought of her brother slain at the hand of ‘The General’ arose a sudden surge of anger and hatred. Isabel gritted her teeth and found solid ground from which she could push her upper body to try to gain leverage on whatever was sitting on her. She cringed at the shooting pain that swept through her arms and caused her stomach to churn with nausea. Sucking in a sharp intake of breath, Isabel bit down on her bottom lip in pain, her eyes shut tight. “Oh God.”

It took everything in her to not collapse under the pain. Slowly, Isabel managed to maneuver her body, until she was lying flat on her back. She tried not to draw attention to herself, wanting a chance to seek revenge on those who had robbed her of her only family. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the dark-haired lackey that had kept her from helping Max. He will be the first to die.

Making sure their attention was focused elsewhere, while she prepared herself for one last attack, Isabel felt whatever was on top of her, move. She furrowed her brow. As she placed her hand upon the mass on top of her, Isabel realized that it was a person; in fact, a man. Suddenly a lump began to develop in her constricted throat. Her heart began to race; she didn’t know why she was reacting this way, but dread flooded over.

Isabel watch out!

The cry seemed to wrench at her heart. Jesse. Isabel opened her eyes wide, frantic at the realization that the voice she had heard had been Jesse. Suddenly the body on top of her groaned as it moved.

Isabel managed to prop herself up on her forearm so that she could push the body, who was lying facedown against her chest. Rolling him over, Isabel saw the sandy features of the man whom she pledged her life to only a year and a half ago. The lump in her throat now seemed to be the size of a golf ball. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as she tried to catch her breath at the image of her husband’s unconscious face. Quickly she forgot about her own fatal injury and brushed the burnt copper grains from his cold moist face. “Oh! Jes-se!” Her vision blurred as each caress revealed another portion of her husband’s face. His skin had always been so smooth.

When the flood of tears had begun raining down on his soiled face, she didn’t know. Isabel could only search his body - beginning at the top of his head and working her way down to his torso – for the cause of his unresponsive state, when she felt a wet, moist area under the palm of her hand. “Oh no!” She gasped hysterically, shaking her head at the thought that passed through her mind. “Oh, no!” she repeated, clutching Jesse’s head to her chest. “Please God, no!”

“Jesse, wake up.” Isabel lowered her husband’s head onto her knee and stroked his face. “Come on, honey. Wake up!”

The present disappeared as she watched Jesse’s paling face. Everyone and everything that she had been so aware of gave way to the startling reality of another man in her life dying. Max was dead. Jesse…

The words would not form in her mind. Isabel closed her eyes. This was not happening. It just wasn’t. She unconsciously wiped her upper lips with her hand, feeling the moisture transfer to her hand. Most would believe that a thousand thoughts would rush through your head when two people you loved had died, but all Isabel found was emptiness. She felt nothing. Isabel frowned. Why couldn’t she feel anything? The thought distressed her. She had no emotions at all. It was as if they had been stolen along with her brother and her husband.

How much more was she supposed to take?
~~~

The fierce desert squall was unexpected to say the least. Where was the catalyst for the sudden, confusing experience that was unfolding before each of their eyes? Max felt himself hovering above the commotion of war that held the very key to the survival of a planet and more personally, to the life of his son, Zander. Floating there, he had never felt such a sense of insignificance in the spectrum of the infinity that surrounded his very body. There was so much more to the universe than his tunneled perspective of ‘self’.

A swirl of white, grey and blacks, textured by the grains of sand formed a simulation of a cocoon, where the final metamorphosis of his ‘self’ would emerge. It was a surreal process that he had not foreseen. While his conscious began to awaken in the whirlwind of silence, Max saw Liz’s body floating in the same abyss to which he was confined. Her body was limp, her head lolling back and her arms hanging loosely at her side.

It hurt to see this woman that he had fallen in love with caught up in something that should never have involved her. How much had she given up? How much had she suffered because of him? Now in this one final act, Max witnessed her complete devotion to him. As the cocooned wall began to converge upon him and Liz and the distance between them lessen, the pale ray of the moon streamed into the otherwise darkened shelter filling the imperceptible room with its’ silver rays.

Max watched as the light dallied around Liz’s limp body, as if gently caressing her pale skin. Then a sudden cool breeze swept through causing his body to send a shiver down his spine. After a few moments, the swirl of sparkling light danced through the air toward him. Max watched it slowly approach him, unprepared for whatever was to come.

His body felt a soothing, warm gentle caress envelop him. Strange sensations filled his body as the light penetrated his warm tingling skin and absorbed into his slow metabolic system that was frantically trying to sort out the evolving changes and transformations that were occurring. It ebbed and flowed with a naturalness that seemed to burn under his skin, singeing his follicles from beneath his pores. His essence which had always felt incomplete was searching…searching for that last piece of the puzzle. His spirit searched for something that would make him complete.

The gentle force that had held him up, as though he could truly fly, seemed to wane and he felt the pressure against his limbs begin to disperse. He saw Liz’s worn body gradually descend and realized that he was also descending from the plane of existence that was foreign to him. But while he prepared himself to face the real world once again, he felt a sharp pain stab into his spine, as if someone had inserted a long spike of cold steel through his nerves that burned with a hot ferocity.

Max could hear his scream echo within the drifting wind tunnel, bouncing as if the wall of wind and sand truly existed as a solid barrier, muffling his cries. He arched his body back, as if trying to escape the repeated stabs of pain. The warm breath that filled his lungs, escaped with a shallow gasp. His mind buzzed, as his ears rang with a high-pitched tone. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the throbbing white pulse of pain that shot through him.

It was too much.

~ * ~

The pain had stopped. Max awoke to see Liz sprawled on the ground underneath him. He paused to assess whether his body had managed to survive the excruciating pain without any side effects. Though Max felt no pain, he was uncertain whether that was because he was physically fine or whether it was because something worse had happened.

He didn’t know.

'Daddy...help me...'

Max closed his eyes, unsure whether he was imagining things. Zander?

'Daddy...help me...'

Max rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his feet. Suddenly incensed by the soft pleading voice in his mind. It was the first time he had heard himself referred to as 'Daddy'.

This was far from over.

~~~

Jesse thought he was imagining things as he opened his eyes. Things were somewhat blurry and out of focus, but she was there, her angelic face hovering over him. Don't cry my baby. He wanted to say the words; he wished he could comfort her, but his body wouldn't let him.

It was an odd sensation that floated over him. It wasn't exactly as they had described it in medical journals and tabloids. He was filled with a mixture of pain and numbness. There was no white light...

Jesse could hear Isabel's voice pleading him to stay with her, but it was muffled and hard to understand. He tried to hang on, but it was like his fingers couldn't find anything to grasp onto. So sorry my baby.

"Jesse!"

Jesse rested his eyes, as his breath became more labored and shallow. The pain was fading now and the numbness taking its place. With the a conscious effort and the last amount of strength he had, Jesse managed to find his voice. "Is...Isa-bel..."

Her teary eyes seemed to flicker in acknowledgement of his voice. A moment of hope flashed in her beautiful brown eyes. He always loved staring into those eyes...

"Jesse," she cried happily, lifting him into her arms.

When Isabel lowered him back onto her lap, Jesse managed to sum up the most important thing he wanted her to remember. "I loved you, Isabel. A-all...all of you."

Jesse felt he could let go now. As he stared up into her lovely face, he could rest now. He had been able right some of the wrong he had done to her, Max and Michael. He had proven that he loved her.

Goodbye.

[jayta]

Chapter Sixty Four



***

I am your Creator. You were in my care even before you were born.

- Isaiah 44:2

***


"No!" Isabel clenched her fists and gritted her teeth as raw primal emotions, springing from an unending well she didn't know existed, surged up and overtook her. Spinning around, she left her dead husband and turned to face his murderer, who met her with an expression of both contempt and fear. The strength which she drew upon was not her own and came from a dark place that Isabel had never visited; but from the unexpected death that had occurred mere moments beforehand, she blindly struck out in complete despair.

The wealth of energy that poured forth from the still-trembling hands illuminated half of the desert plain. While she rid the Earth of the unfeeling killer, Isabel was flooded with images of Jesse. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the feel of his kiss, the way his smile made her feel warm and full of hope. His laughter echoed in her ears as if he was standing right there beside her. The moment of pure elation she felt when they were pronounced man and wife now surfaced, causing a sudden ache in her chest, as the bright white glow of pure energy began to wane before her eyes and everything began to fade - the darkness converging upon her.

Jesse. Oh God, why Jesse?

The anger and pain still lingered in the depths of her mind, warring, crying to be avenged; what she had done wasn't enough. Her arms grew limp and fell to her side; her eyelids drooped and her vision blurred, but before giving into the call of the soothing voice of sleep, with much effort, located a mound of black ashes in the midst of copper and gold - nothing left but dry, particle flakes scattered across the four winds. That was what she was capable of. Death. Isabel sounded a guttural cry - low and undefined - unable to voice find the words to explain the sense of loss...pain that wracked her body. She hated everything in her life that had brought her to this moment of utter despair.

Let me die...just let me die.

~~~

Max shrunk back as a brilliant flash blinded him momentarily, just before he was about to rise from under Liz's unconscious body. Isabel's voice was as clear as daylight, as she struck out at the young captain under Qunar's command. The hurt, pain and anger fuelling his sister created the most spectacular display of power he had ever witnessed before, short of his own prior invitation to Qunar for him to show himself. He shielded his eyes, as he searched for the catalyst of her fury - and he found it - Jesse's body lay flat upon his back, his eyes rolled back and his mouth agape.

Oh God.

Max looked up at Isabel, who had incinerated the captain in less than a half of a second, before he had a chance to defend himself, still pouring out volts of energy on nothing but a pile of dust. He closed his eyes and forced himself to focus on what still lay ahead. Emotions are a luxury.

Max lifted his head as he noticed the light fade and witnessed Isabel's cry into the empty void before her. There was no possible way to comprehend what she had lost. He looked down at Liz, who lay unconscious, like that of Sleeping Beauty.

Qunar hadn't perceived the threat Vilandra still posed; as he was taken aback a moment ago, when the would-be princess suddenly rose from her deathbed to kill Captain Leisner. It was only when her anguish surfaced had Qunar known that he must finish her off - leaving no doubt as to her time of deathh. He bid his time, not wanting her to turn her unexpected powers on him. No, he waited until she dropped into human weakness again and felt the toll of her vast rage.

Just about...now. Qunar's lips contorted into a triumphant smirk as he watched the dark-haired royalty fall to her knees.

Max's eyes snapped to the sudden movement to his left; Qunar stood with open palm amid towards Isabel. "Not this time!" he growled, raising his hands towards the distracted enemy.

~~~

Light silently flew through the moonlit night, striking its intended victim. The victory was sweet for its assassin and bittersweet for its intended. As the lights of the far off galaxies sparkled in its' total oblivion, a shadow approached. The moonlight captured the familiar face, allowing one last glimpse of him.

Zan. Maxwell.

Before a word could be uttered, blackest darkness welcomed its newest resident.

~~~

"She's been barricaded in her quarters since they returned, Your Highness." Emine's voice was low and just above a whisper, holding a trace of an apology.

Fadilia nodded slowly, biting her bottom lip absentmindedly while she pondered the state of her daughter-in-law. The disclosure of the events of the mission had been kept to the Interior; General Steren had thought it best, as had she. Everyone had been at the meeting except Tess. "Has she spoken to anyone since she has returned?" The dark handmaiden shook her head tentatively. "Fine," she said, waving her dismissal towards Emine, who obeyed as if it had been spoken.

Fadilia waited until she heard the door close before letting out an anxious sigh. This did not bode well for their contingent of troops. Had Tess and Michael come home victorious it would have boosted morale, but it did not seem to be the Unseen's will. Even the schematics Quirinius had downloaded were encrypted and it would take some time to read them, if they could.

She closed her eyes and rested against the edge of her bed as she had dreamt of finally meeting her grandson. When the realization that he was not with Tess sunk in she almost felt despair. He was a symbol of the future of the Kedran lineage, just as Max was the hope of its return. Fadilia pressed her fingers against her lips, choking back the tears. There had to be an explanation...there just had to be.

~~~

Again and again she replayed the events of that day in her mind, trying to think of another way she could have possibly rescued Zander without the threat of his death looming over him - the cause of his return to captivity. Tess let out an angry cry. She searched the minimalist room for something loose, something to throw. Her fingers curled around a small, smooth round object, about the size of a large egg; with all of her might she twisted her body and flung the object across the room and against the hard walls. It made one large cracking sound and then a variety thuds, differing with size as the object crumbled to the floor.

Tess stood there a moment, her breath laboured, as her gaze trailed from the white marking on the wall to the pile of mineral that had once formed a holograph - a gift from the Loyalists that was programmed with images of her past life as well as her current life. "Damn," she yelled hoarsely, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. Closing her eyes, Tess willed the tears that were brimming, threatening to fall. She shook her head, consciously breathing in and out, in an attempt to pull herself together.

I can't lose him. God, I can't lose my son!

Tess wrapped her arms around her stomach, cradling it. She bent over, slowly dropping to her knees and allowing the sobs to flow in the isolation of her room. Zander. Her mind would not stop saying his name over and over, as if saying it numerous times would conjure up her son. This can't be happening. Everything was under control.

Tess covered her face with her hands and allowed the wet manifestation of her sorrow comfort her. Why did I leave him with a stranger? Plagued with doubt and fear for her son, the room seemed to swirl around her in a blurry haze. None of this was expected and would the General not have spoken to her of a Loyalist spy within the walls of Saren Dari? As her curiosity and questions mounted, the tears began to subside, as the analytical side of her began to review the mission without the pain and remorse that plagued her the other several hundred times she had done this.

"Why didn't he want to leave?" she asked aloud to herself. Her body was trembling - a usual aftermath of a cry fest.

Swallowing hard, Tess furrowed her brow and pressed her index finger against her bottom lip as she thought about her son's voice and Barak's turn for the 'good'. Her mind churned and groaned as she tried to understand why her son would tell her to leave him. It was not because of fear. She felt no fear in his mind; in fact she felt understanding and confidence of what the future held. "This just doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make any sense?"

Tess jerked her head up to see Michael standing in her doorway. She frowned. "How did you get in?" She had made sure that she coded her doors to lock and open to a certain security code, which only she knew. Tess had only planned on using it in extreme times; one like this one, which she hadn't expected.

"I have my ways," Michael said mischievously, although his eyes revealed his tentativeness to his attempts at lightheartedness.

Tess took a deep breath, knowing that her body hadn't physically recovered from the emotional turmoil she had just gone through, and she didn't want anyone to know about. With slow precision, Tess rose from the floor, making sure she had her balance and wouldn't stumble, giving Michael or anyone else cause to know how much giving Zander up had nearly destroyed her. "Did you hotwire the security system?"

"A sophisticated system like that? How would I even know how to begin?" Michael frowned at her like she had given him too much credit, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah, well they've gotten so sophisticated that the architects don't even think about people having the skill to hotwire the system. I know," she replied dryly.

"So, you been busy attacking walls, have you?" Michael glanced casually towards the chalky white mark she had left after throwing the holograph at the wall.

Tess rolled her eyes and walked towards the small pile of rubble. "It was being nosy," she said, glaring at him over her shoulder. "Just like you are." Bending over, Tess kneeled in front of the mess and began to pick up the pieces of rock.

"Hey, if you want to try to throw me against a wall," he spread his arms open, as if giving her an opening, "give it your best shot."

Tess shook her head and returned to the task of cleaning her room. "What are you doing here, anyway?" She pushed herself up from her kneeling position and walked over to the metal chute that was on the opposite side of the room, just above her desk, and slid the garbage into its mouth. Dusting off her hands she placed them on her hips and gazed up at Michael. "Well?" she asked, staring at him impatiently.

"I think you know why I'm here."

Now it was her turn to play dumb. She shook her head. "No. Can't say that I do." Tess walked casually over to her desk where she went to check up on the status of the encrypted schematics.

Tess hated this prying, and she thought Michael should know better than this. She heard Michael sigh exasperatingly. "Look I know you are having a hard time dealing with giving up Zander like that..."

Tess spun around and glared at him. "Don't talk to me about that," she warned, trying to keep the well of emotions from being drawn from again. "You don't have a clue; and I don't want to talk to you about this." Tess began punching a several keys on the touch control panel, turning away from Michael's steady, scrutinizing gaze. "I already said as much as I'm going to say in the ship."

"You need to talk about it."

Tess curled her fingers into a fist and swallowed hard. She turned calmly and faced Michael, gazing at him with cold stoicism. "Just like you want or need to talk about Isabel? Or did that problem just disappear?" The sharpness in her voice was tinged with regret in the end.

The worry and concern in his eyes flickered and disappeared. He nodded slowly. "You know, you're right. Maybe I'm not the right person to talk to you about this." Michael turned and walked towards the door; he paused at the entrance as the door slid open. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know." His voice was cold, yet she could hear the sincerity masked by the hurt. "I've remembered a lot since we've returned, and learned a little: Don't fool yourself into thinking that we're alone in this. We have to stick together or we'll leave Antar the exact way we did the first time."

Tess stared after Michael as his shadowed form strode into the dim corridors. Not alone? Tess scoffed at this. I've always been alone...ever since I was created.

~~~

‘And you’ll need to find Nonnie’s body.’

Barak pretended to inspect the equipment and the security system now tagged to the bio processing unit. We will ensure Andaria receives a proper burial.

‘No. No burial.’

Barak frowned. He didn’t understand why the child refused burial. It will be according to Kedran law. He hoped that would reassure Prince Zander.

‘No.’

Can you explain why?

Silence.

“Barak.”

The tall Loyalist spy spun around to find Nicholas striding purposefully toward him. “Yes my Liege?” He stood at attention and saluted the repulsive excuse for a soldier.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Nicholas spouted. “I am impressed that you were able to convince Ava that her son’s best interest is to remain here at Saren Dari.”

Barak curled the corners of his lips slightly and raised his brow, feigning a satisfied, malicious smirk. He had practiced that for several days. Once he was transferred to Saren Dari with Zander, he had many opportunities to perfect this expression. Nicholas seemed to take a liking to him, as he remained aloof and subservient in his presence. And to an egocentric Iturian like Nicholas that was paying him the respect due to him.

“I only did what my Liege would have done,” he replied modestly. It made Barak ill to pay this ilk any mind, but it was part of his mission.

Nicholas beamed at this compliment. “Well Barak, you’ve done well under my command. You are a quick study.” The short commander slapped Barak on the back and guided him away from the newly repaired unit and Zander. “I think you’ve earned some deserved time off.”

Barak’s eyes widened at the suggestion. Biting his tongue, he tried to remain calm and relax his muscles. Nicholas hadn’t tried to probe his mind since he had proved himself loyal, but if he gave any hint of cause for the probe he would be found out. Previously, when he had been subjected to the probes, he had known before hand and was able to mentally prepare for the assault. Also, the Loyalist architects managed to send him some diversionary implant that would subvert Nicholas’ probe from any of his true intentions. But without preparation he would be cull.

“Is something wrong, Barak?” Nicholas was staring up at him with a suspicious expression. “I would think you would be ecstatic at the possible leave from this god forsaken desert.” He said it with utter contempt.

Barak swallowed hard. “Uh, it’s just Sir...” Think fast. Think fast. “As you saw with the soldiers during this past confrontation with the enemy,” he paused a moment. “As I’m sure you, yourself noticed their complete and utter lack of discipline and intelligence when dealing with the Loyalists.” He cleared his throat. “As you witnessed, we lost an entire contingent of soldiers from their inability to defend or even transport prisoners.” Barak stopped there, knowing if he rambled it would be a complete giveaway.

Nicholas stared up at him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head to the side, as if debating whether this was a plausible explanation.

Barak tried to remain still and calm, although his heart was racing.

“Of course!” Nicholas suddenly replied. “I was just testing your determination and fortitude in obtaining our goal!”

Barak nodded once, as if acknowledging that this had been Nicholas’ plan all along; but he knew that it had not been a test. The commander had planned on allowing him to depart from Saren Dari on leave, but with the explanation he had given Nicholas for staying, it would have made the commander seem foolish to continue along that path, so Nicholas covered up in an attempt to look like it was just a test. “And very sneaky it was, Commander.” He plastered on a sincere smile...at least sincere enough for the likes of Nicholas and General Garrick.

Nicholas nodded and began mumbling to himself. “Yes. Yes.” He turned and looked up at Barak. “Well, I’m sure I’m keeping you from some errands,” he said, gesturing him to leave the laboratory. “You’re dismissed.”

Barak clicked his boots together and saluted. “Sir.” He strode towards the exit, without looking back. It had taken him a couple of weeks to train himself not to glance back towards the large oval unit that held Zander’s weak body. Though the child’s mind was strong, his body seemed to grow thinner and paler by the passing hour.

Barak cleared his throat as he turned sharply and walked down the sterile corridor, as he had done many times before. He will be fine. Zander had reassured Barak of that. But in these days, he was beginning to wonder how he had allowed a mere child to comfort him.

It should have been the other way around.

[jayta]

Chapter Sixty Five



***

The finest and noblest ground on which people can live is truth; the real with the real; a ground on which nothing is assumed.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

***


The darkness seemed like a long inevitable event. How long had she waited for that relief, for complete rest? Too long.



Thoughts, her thoughts were turning towards a warm light that began as a small pinpoint only to expand and grow, as if opening its arms wide to welcome her into its fold. Yet...



Darkness still clung to her. And shadows of the life she had left burdened her heart, as voices of those she had loved beckoned her again. The light that enveloped the darkness began to fade and the abyss behind lightened once again, with faded shades of grey. She felt the pull back; as she stared longingly into the peace that she desired – to be with him – she knew unfinished business remained and she could not yet find that eternal



~~~



“Transportation will commence at 21:00 hours.” Khivar’s homely image rolled across the cubicle screen. Their communications system became static after the electric display caused by the former ‘mistress’ of Antar, which had them reverting back to somewhat an archaic technology. “And no mistakes, Nicholas,” the irritable ruler hissed. “I do not want this to get out to the people and rumors of that troublesome Prophecy to begin spreading.” His eyes darkened as the words tumbled past his lips. “I have but almost completely dispersed with that rubbish and now you tell me that you let them get away?” His pitch rose as it became evident to Nicholas that he would hear about this incident at Saren Dari when he arrived at the palace.



“Yes sir. General Garrick and I have prepared Pilan for transport. We are just waiting for your men to complete loading the ship.”

Nicholas swallowed hard. He hated to look the fool in front of Khivar. No doubt remained in his mind that Garrick had ratted him out to Khivar. It made him seethe to watch that pudgy puffball gloat, while he debated what his next move would be. If he could locate the Loyalist base…



“And how is the child?”



Nicholas’ head snapped up at the mention of Zander. He frowned. He really needed to stop thinking of him as a person. “Your Highness, Zander is secure. I have surrounded him with a larger detail of officers, in the event Ava and Rath return.”



“Good. I don’t want anything to happen to that child,” Khivar sneered. “You know how important he is to our plan. He will be the nail in the Royal Four’s coffin.” The low, dark rumbling of laughter echoed within the walls of the Com Centre, while his distorted image rolled upwards on the blurry screen.



“You will see, my King, everything will go according to plan,” Nicholas nodded confidently, although his churning stomach seemed to think otherwise. “Nicholas out.” He saluted before the small screen, as Khivar nodded once, as his expression became solemn once again.



A yellow flash of electricity flashed and then the screen went black. He would see to it that the crown was placed securely upon his King’s deserving head.



~~~



Kyle walked in and around the various silent bodies eerily slain on the battlefield. Their faces expressed no pain – like they were just sleeping – as he skittered across the desert. He was in a hurry as he frantically searched for Liz among the many bodies. How could I have left her? Kyle kicked himself over and over, as he quickly, but carefully studied each female body that lay unconscious or dead.



“Liz,” he whispered; as if he spoke any louder he would wake the dead. “Where are you?” His voice was choked, as a lump began to form in his throat. Searching each turned, petite figure, though knowing that she did not lie clothed in the foreign uniform.



As Kyle approached the looming, black shadow he had seen from the distance, he watched, as it grew darker underneath his feet - the spotted, black char knitted tightly together the closer he got towards centre of the large circumference. Then something caught his eye, a small movement, and no more than ten feet away. He dashed towards the form that seemed to be crouched over something.



Liz.

~ * ~



Frightfully he stumbled over the bodies, straining to receive word on or find Liz and the others. From the onslaught before him, he had high hopes that Max had been the victor; he could only hope. As he slowly inched closer towards the dark-haired figure, Kyle knew that it was Max; he was cradling something.



His heart leaped up into his throat, not knowing if it was for fear that it was Liz in his arms…or not. The soft sand sunk beneath his runners, as he hurdled over bodies and skipped over a couple of small boulders. Just as he was about to reach them he stumbled to his knees, causing the hard blackened grains - some which had crystallized from the intense heat – to crash against his jeans staining them a charcoal black. His hands skidded in front of him, with his palms flatted, in an attempt to stop himself. Kyle glanced back, to see what he had tripped over and saw…her.



Kyle blinked several times at the stirring, yet silent sight. He crawled over to the lifeless body; whose pale skin looked even more so in the light of the moon. “Liz,” he whispered softly, as if trying to wake her from a restful sleep. As he kneeled before her, his hands went automatically to brush back her disheveled hair from her peaceful face. Her lips were tinged with pink, signaling her unmoved form was still breathing. Kyle pressed his index and middle finger against her soft pliable skin, just below her jaw, for a pulse. It was faint.



Without thinking, Kyle cupped Liz’s cool face and closed his eyes, exhaling softly. “Oh please don’t die,” he gasped almost inaudibly. Spinning around frantically he called to the faceless form. “Max. MAX!”



~~~



In the hazy fog that filled his head – a symptom which always seemed to arise during an attempt to heal anyone – Max lifted his head up drowsily, his eyes lolling to the back of his head. His brow furrowed as he could have sworn he had heard his name.

“Max!”



There it was again.



Suddenly he felt an arm grab him and spin his upper torso around, until his gaze fell upon the stunned expression of one Kyle Valenti.



Kyle didn’t even realize his grip fell away, as his eyes remained on the ashen face that lay there. “Isabel…” His mind was racing and all the images of the unknown faces he had turned over in search for his friends flashed before him. His stomach churned as he stood there, surveying the massacre that had occurred moments ago. Innocent people.



They had all been so innocent.



Kyle shook his head. He couldn’t think about this now…couldn’t help them. He frowned, dropping to his knees. “What happened to her?” he asked, still stunned. Max’s hands were stained with dry blood, as they were pressed against Isabel’s side, the surrounding area of her clothes drenched in blood.



“She…s-she was so pale,” Max whispered, as he stared down at his sister, managing to find his way back from the land-of-no-dreams. His head was beginning to clear, and as he glanced beside him to where Kyle knelt, he blinked once and shook his head. “Kyle?”



Kyle’s gaze was glued to the drying, even more blackened, and caked sand that formed an abstract image underneath her otherwise pale body – the contrast was stark as her slender pale arm laid against the charred ground.



“What are you doing here, Kyle?” Max repeated his question, trying to capture his high school classmate attention. This was no place for him…for anyone.



“Hmm?” Kyle finally managed to tear his eyes from the woman he had come to care about more than he wanted to, after his experience with Tess. Isabel never treated him like a sap or any fool. In the later days before she had left, part of him envied Jesse’s luck for winning her love. Besides Liz, there was no other woman he had learned to care about more...well, except maybe Tess. But he didn't want to think about her.



“You were supposed to leave,” Max said anxiously. “Where are my parents?” Looking down at Isabel, he couldn’t imagine their reaction. It would be too traumatizing.



“What?” Kyle frowned as he tried to recall what the heck Max was asking him. “You need to tell me what happened to her…”

Max grabbed Kyle’s shoulders and squared his in-shock friend to him. “Where. Are. My. Parents?”



Kyle shook his head. “They’re fine.” He didn’t understand what Max was getting at. “I did what you told me to do. Maria’s with them.”



“Then why are you still here?” The accusation in his voice was biting. “You need to get out of here. No one is safe here.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Liz,” he breathed, glancing over his shoulder. “You have to help Liz.”



Max followed Kyle’s gaze to his first love. Liz. He had been so caught up with the present danger to everyone that he had left her in the same spot. Max had assumed she would be fine, as he woke up uninjured. “How is she?” he asked, unable to move as he was trapped under the weight of Isabel’s unconscious body, although he now felt her breathing ease, better than her stifled, shallow breaths.



Kyle folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Not good, Max. You’ve got to help her,” he said nervously.

Kyle watched as Max glanced furtively between two of the most important people in his life. He understood his indecision.



“Isabel’s bad,” Max sighed. “I don’t know if she’s going to make it, Kyle.” He rested his left hand on her furrowed brow, caressing her pale white skin, in an attempt to wipe away the hurt and pain.



“Max…you’ve got to use that magic voodoo, mumbo-jumbo and fix Liz!” His heart pounded against his chest as he read the fear on Maxwell’s face. How did one choose between the woman he loved and his sister?



“I know!” Max swallowed hard, pressing against his sister’s neck and checking her pulse. It had quickened a bit, but not enough. It was still faint.



Sliding from under his sister, Max ran over to Liz’s side. He pressed his forehead against hers. It was cold. All of the sudden he couldn’t even feel her breath so much against his skin. Max leaned back on his haunches and stared down at this woman whom he had loved from the moment he saw her.



Kyle watched Max brood over Liz. Did he feel guilty for putting her through this? Then, an odd thought came sprung to mind. “Max, wait. Isn’t this dangerous for you?” Max’s perplexed expression spoke volumes. Kyle knew he wasn’t the guy’s best friend, but they had grown to trust each other more as they shared a genuine protectiveness over Liz and Isabel. And Max understood the betrayal and astounding redemption Tess had pressed upon both of them.



The question made Max pause for a moment. “What are you talking about?”



“Isn’t this why you and Liz couldn’t make love or something?” Kyle hated the questions that flooded from his mouth; they left a bad taste in his mouth, but they were true. They had gone through almost two months of hell because of the reaction to…well, sex…. A thing he never thought could be bad.



Max knew that it was partly true. The make up of their bodies and some genetic flaw were what kept them apart and made him deathly ill. But what else can I do? Max shook his head. “I’ve just gotta trust that this won’t do more damage than good,” he stated, somewhat hesitantly.



“Max, don’t do this if you’re not sure,” Kyle warned.



Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There were some things he just couldn’t let happen, even if it meant reversing…



~ * ~



“Max! Kyle!”



Kyle and Max stared wildly at each other at the unexpected voice, anxious as to who would know where they had gone. Max scooped Liz in his arms and moved her close to Isabel. If it was some trick…



Over the sand dune three shadowed figures stood, their body language seemed as if they were searching for something. Max turned to Kyle and lowered his voice. “You find a place to hide them; I’ll deal with whoever this,” he pointed up to the small figures scuttling down the sands, “is.”



Suddenly a soft coughing began to sound from behind them. Both Kyle and Max looked down to see Liz’s body moving – shaking more like it – and she began to groan mournfully. The coughing then became more intense and labored.



Kyle knelt down on one knee, as he brushed her hair back from her face as she transitioned from coughing fits into cold shivers. “Max…” He looked up at him worriedly. He didn’t know what to do. What could he do?



Max glanced over his shoulder as the figures began closing the gap. “You’ve got to get them out of here!” he growled, his heart pounding as he watched Liz convulsing right before his eyes – a contrast to Isabel’s silent, motionless body.



“I can’t move her!” Kyle cried, waving his hands at Liz’s flushed face. “She could choke or something!”



“Damn it!”



“Max!” a female voice called frantically.



“Kyle!” a man’s voice beckoned.



Kyle frowned. The voice sounded familiar.



“Kyle!” The stilted jog of a broad shouldered man ambled forward. In the light of the moon, he saw his father’s tired and worn expression that spoke volumes of the worry Kyle had caused him. “What the hell is going on here?” He had never been so glad to see his father’s scrappy old mug.



“Dad!” He launched into his father’s arms. “It’s a freaking circus around here.” The strength of his father’s arms, which embraced him, brought a wonderful sense of relief. He wasn’t alone.



Valenti stepped back, turned and gazed at the hundreds of bodies that lay scattered in the desert. “Max?”

The Sheriff’s tone was ominous, almost foreboding, as Max watched the man’s face fall. His dark eyes, shadowed by the rim of his hat, emitted such a look of disappointment.



“It’s a long story,” he began, but was interrupted surreptitiously by a woman’s relieved cry.



“Max!” Diane finished the last leg of the journey across the empty desert, stumbling towards her son, who extended his arm out to brace her, as she caught her breath.



He closed his eyes and shook his head. Max glared at Kyle, who looked as stunned as he was. “I thought you said that they were back in Roswell.”



Kyle shook his head. How had they ditched Maria? Just as he was about to ask the Evans’ why they had returned, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement on top of the sand dune. “Max!” He pointed towards the shadowed figures that were stumbling down the sand. Once seemed injured, while another helped.



“Who did you bring?” Max demanded, glaring at his parents as if they were disobedient children.



“I don’t think we deserve that tone of voice after you’ve been lying to us all of these years, Maxwell.” His father’s tone held a sharp distance Max had never heard before. It was a tone he usually reserved for clients and strangers.



“Kyle, Max, tell me what’s goin’ on?” Valenti pleaded warily.



Again a loud, sharp high-pitched cough cut through the raised and angry voices. Max turned around, as did Kyle, to see Liz’s body seizing. Both dropped to the ground, giving Valenti and the Evans’ a full view of what Max and Kyle had been hiding behind them. “She’s not breathing.” Max lowered his ear to her mouth, which had begun to tinge blue.



Quickly Max began resuscitation on Liz. Two quick breaths, followed by five chest compressions – he had to get her breathing. After giving her a second round of CPR, the petite girl began coughing hoarsely, yet, was again breathing.



“What happened to Liz?” Valenti asked, pushing his way through the boys, who seemed tired. He bent down and checked her pulse, faint and unstable. But before he could hear their answer, his eyes fell on the body next to him and the blood that was caked on the tattered clothing. He tugged on the nearest arm, which caused her to roll onto her back. Isabel?



Valenti spun around to face their guilt-stricken faces. “What the hell happened to Isabel?” The blood in his veins ran cold, as the beautiful young teenager lay slain in the desert, horrendously hidden behind Liz’s body.



“She…” Kyle was at a loss for words. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he could have guessed it was an all out fight for her life.



“I was ambushed…sort of,” Max said morosely. He glanced at his parents. “Mom and Dad know that part of the story.”

Valenti glanced briefly at the Evans’, whose faces were already stricken with grief. Each stood frozen in their place, as if looking through a glass pane down at their injured daughter. He hadn’t even considered their feelings when he revealed her bloodied body to the open crowd. He sighed regretfully. Then glancing down at Liz, who was paling even more, he knew that there was no time for explanations. “We’d better to get them to a hospital.” He slid his arm underneath Liz’s moist, shivering body and lifted her from the cool sands. “Someone grab Isabel. I have a feeling she’s worse off than Liz,” he grunted, while shifting his son’s ex-girlfriend in his arms.



“No!” a foreign voice exclaimed. “She’s not going with you.”



Max spun around to face the familiar voice. “Brody.” The short, lanky Englishman was hobbling towards them, with his arm slung around Maria’s neck. He frowned. “Is there not anyone that doesn’t know about this place?”



“Larek,” the owner of the Centre corrected softly. “And with not much time.”



“We can’t just sit around chatting,” Kyle exclaimed nervously. “They’re in bad shape, as it is.” He glanced behind him, where his father held Liz in his arms, while Mr. Evans was now picking up Isabel.



“You may all leave,” Larek/Brody nodded tiredly. He slid his arm from around Maria’s neck and stood up, still a little wobbly. “But Zan and Vilandra are staying here.”



“Again, with the Zan!” Diane cried out in frustration and anger. The petite blonde strode up to the somewhat familiar man. ”Who are you? And why do you keep calling my son Zan? And now, my daughter, who is about to die from blood loss, Vilandra?” She spun around and faced her husband. “We’re taking her to the hospital.”



“You cannot,” Larek stated firmly, resting a firm hand on Zan’s female guardian’s shoulder, preventing her from leaving. “They are not able to come back with you…”



Diane stared into the dark eyes of the stranger, who was attempting to wrest her family from her grip. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. “Then you don’t know my children,” she spat. Turning around, she looked over at Max; and Phillip, who was cradling their little girl in his arms. “They’re coming home.”



Max lowered his head and sighed loudly. He hadn’t wanted everything to come out like this, but his mother was in denial, even after what she had been witness to. Glancing over at his father, who was rocking Isabel back and forth, as if she were only ten, Max shook his head and gazed grimly at his mother. “I’m sorry.”



Valenti glanced furtively between the two – mother and son – and felt Liz stiffen and begin to go into mini-convulsions. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m taking her to the hospital.” He began to run on the soft sand, which sunk beneath his feet, causing him to amble slowly across the plain.



Kyle glanced over at Isabel and then Max. “You will come and say good bye, right?” he asked, turning to Max. “Because you know I’d kick your butt if you didn’t…heck, Liz would kick your butt.” He smirked.



Kyle didn’t know if he would see him or Isabel again, but a promise was as good as it was going to get. And he knew Maxwell was one to keep his promises.



Max nodded, a slight smile twitched from on the upper corners of his lips. “Yeah, sure.” It wasn’t exactly a promise. Both knew the changes this battle had made to the direction of both Isabel and his lives. Where they once thought they could live peaceably, after the massacre and the loss of Jesse, Maxwell didn’t know if that was possible anymore. He smiled at Kyle, who had been much comfort over the past hour. Max would make his best effort to try and do what Kyle was asking. Looking around, the whole situation seemed so surreal. Was this actually happening?



Suddenly he found his mother standing in front of him, face to face. “What are you doing Max? What are you doing to this family?” Her eyes pleaded with him for some logical explanation; he was sure if he had made up some lame excuse about everything being a joke, she would be willing to believe it, rather than coming to grips with the reality – her son was an alien.



“Mom, “I’m so sorry. “ He paused, trying to find the words that would make her understand. Max placed his hands gently upon her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I wish I could explain everything to you, but there’s no time.”



No time? Diane shook her head. “Well then make time,” she said in disbelief. “I deserve to know the truth.”

Max glanced over at Larek, who shook his head, warning him not to do this. She was right. She did deserve to know the truth. “But not right now.”



“Then when?” Philip asked, lifting his gaze from his baby girl to his only son. “When is a good time, Maxwell.”



“When her life,” Max motioned to Isabel with a tilt of his head, “is not on the line.”



“That’s why we have the hospital, Max,” Diane pleaded. “Tell us the story while we get there.”

Max dropped his hands from his mother’s shoulder. “You know, that they can’t fix her, Mom,” he sighed. “Just like they couldn’t fix me.”



“Well you’re alive, aren’t you?”



Max smiled faintly, as the reality of his mother’s trust and belief in the truth of his words were so evident in those few words. “No.” He slowly lifted his shirt and in the rays of the fading, yet still iridescent moon, revealed the silver handprint that was forever etched onto his chest. “This is why I’m alive.”



Diane reached out; her fingertips lightly caressing the glittering painted line of the petite hand tattooed on Maxwell’s chest. “What is this?” she breathed.



“It’s proof to you that I’m an alien.”



~~~



It is time to prepare yourself.



'The time is coming?'



Yes.



'And it ends good?'



It is not for you to know the outcome.



'Am I going to die?'



"Come Zander," a low familiar voice echoed in the otherwise dark plane. He felt his body floating, as if traveling through water, as his caretaker lifted him from his resting place. "We are going home."

[jayta]

Chapter Sixty Six


***

Perils, and misfortunes, and want, and pain, and injury, are more or less the certain lot of every man that cometh into the world. It behooveth thee, therefore, O child of calamity! Early to fortify thy mind with courage and patience, that though mayest support, with a becoming resolution, thy allotted portion of human evil.

- Akhenaton

***

The beginning of the new day couldn't come soon enough.

Michael slowly and knowingly exacted the learned stances, which had come to him so recently, since his return, in the training centre. It was early in the morning, no one had awakened yet, and he needed a release. The precision needed for each move and position seemed to relax his muscles rather than tense them. As he selected a reflective atmosphere, transmitted by the alien technology, which was able to transform the stale musky room into a fully mirrored room. From every angle he could see the way his muscles worked, contracted and released; this allowed him to correct himself.

Breathe. Michael closed his eyes and pictured each move in his mind and almost dance-like, he began moving to the inaudible beat playing through his mind. One. Two. Strike. He opened his eyes and he saw the image of himself reflected in the mirrors around him. His right arm was outstretched, with the staff like an extension of his arm, with the other firmly glued to his side. A slow drip of perspiration trickled down his forehead and down the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly he heard clapping.

"Brilliant."

Michael head snapped around to face the slight glow, which emanated from the opened entrance at the far right corner of the training room. Standing silently, with her hands gently folded in front of her, was Fadilia. She seemed out of place in the dimly lit room, which held the essence of a feral, almost primal-like atmosphere; but yet she also seemed at ease in this place of her former regaled soldiers, who had fought for her heart, mind and soul. "Thank you," he breathed heavily.

Michael dropped his staff arm and bowed slowly towards the Queen Mother.

"You are very beautiful when you are doing the 'Stances'." Fadilia slowly approached the elevated stage. "You remind me of...well, you. Of course, that was when you were Rath," she said softly. "You were so beautiful when you performed those stances as a child."

"Really?" Michael mopped his brow and sat down on the elevated stage, which only gave him a slight height advantage, causing him to look down on her. "I don't remember that far back."

"Yes." Fadilia's eyes sparkled even under the low track lighting. "You were a very energetic child; unfocused to say the least, but somehow the stances always seemed to bring you back to the centre of things. It was a very beautiful thing."

Michael smirked. It was hard even to imagine childhood back on Antar, even with his memories back. There had been no time. So much had been coming at him. I guess that's why I'm here.

"Michael, General Steren has given orders to mobilize."

Michael frowned. "What?"

"The Festival will be begin at dusk, tonight." Fadilia took one more step forward, until all Michael could see were her crystal blue eyes that seemed to make the entire room disappear for the beauty of them.

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"I spoke to General Steren," she replied gently, placing a hand upon his knee. "And told him to allow me to speak to you."

"Why?" Michael frowned. "Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I just want you and Tess to know that I understand the intensity of everything happening to you," she breathed, patting his knee. "And how I want you to know that I am here for you, just as I said I would be." Her eyes searched his for a measurement of understanding...comprehension.

Michael lowered his eyes and wrapped his towel around his neck. "Thank you, Your Majesty..."

"Fadilia."

His eyes rose to meet hers. "Fadilia." He exhaled slowly. "I'm grateful for that."

"But..." The elderly Antarian, whose appearance spoke nothing of her age, smiled knowingly.

Michael pushed away from Fadilia and stood up on the stage. He collected his tunic, which he had disrobed during his workout when it became more intense, and hopped down from the stage alongside Fadilia. "I just..." Michael searched for the words to express the isolation he had lived in for so long. Even though he had connections to people, there would always be that wall he had built around himself to protect that part of him no one was supposed to have access to anymore - not since his foster parents took the care to quash that ability, inherent to any child, to open himself to love and vulnerability. "There's so much..." He stumbled again for the words. Michael wished he could let her in, but he just couldn't push through that barrier. It was like he was looking at her through a glass pane.

Then, as if understanding his inability to open that door, Michael felt cool fingers slip through his and her palm touch his. He glanced over to see Fadilia looking straight ahead, as they both strode slowly towards the exit, and he felt a calmness over him. In the silence she spoke volumes. She knew he desired to let her in and right now that would be enough.

~ * ~

"We're leaving in a half an hour," Michael informed Tess, who had just appeared in the stratagem room. General Steren had briefed him and Fadilia of their plans for that early morning. They had sent word for Tess, but she could not be found and there was no time to dawdle. Michael assured General Steren that he would brief Tess, and that he should prepare the remaining troops. The wives, mothers, and small children were slowly being transferred to a secure cave basin; on the off chance Khivar's men ever entered the inner sanctum of the base.

Tess furrowed her brow and shook her head in confusion. "When was this decided?" She had disappeared within the dark, winding passages of the mountain in an attempt to find some solace and quiet. After snapping at Michael, Tess knew that she needed some air.

"Since we got word that a large fleet of royal ships has been spotted traversing to and from Saren Dari.

"Do we know why?"

Michael shrugged; he began walking towards his quarters to change out of his workout clothes. "Does it matter?" He glanced down at Tess, who seemed lost in her thoughts. "The move on Eshtari has been planned for several days. The only question was the timing."

"It doesn't matter?" Tess frowned; staring up at the one person whom she had found she could depend upon when tough times came. "Do you remember the mission we just returned from?" Stopping in the middle of the hallway, which slowed Michael's stride, she confronted him on his strange behavior. "It was a near catastrophe!"

"That's a little melodramatic." He sighed, not wanting to deal with Tess' sudden interest in the details. "You were never one for plans Tess, why now?" Michael knew the more time they spent on this discussion, which in the end would still result in the deployment of their troops, the less time they had to prepare en route.

"That was when we were on earth, Michael." Things had been simpler back then; however, this confrontation with Khivar would have lasting consequences on their people. If it didn't succeed, Antar stood no chance of freeing itself from Khivar. "We've got a lot more people to think about now," she hissed, lowing her voice as a small boy and an older woman passed by.

Michael studied the petite figure before him; her clear, blue eyes focused, and questioning him. Tess was like the prize in a Crackerjacks box - you just never knew what you'd get. He saw a strong, determined woman before him; while only hours ago, she was broken and cold. Just never knew what to expect...

"Michael." Tess snapped her fingers in front of his blank expression. "What are the odds of us taking the palace?" she asked, wanting more than mumbled assurances.

"60-40 odds."

Tess felt a glimmer of hope.

"To fail."

"What?" Tess heard her voice almost screech at the announcement. "What do you mean, 'to fail'?" Her eyes bore into his, urging him to tell her that she had heard him wrong.

"Look," he growled, unhappy at her less-than-discreet reaction. "We don't have time for your questions."

"I think this is a great time for them," Tess exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief. How else was she supposed to react?

Michael grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to the side, as several uniformed soldiers jogged by, saluting the Queen. "Tess, General Steren thinks this is the last chance we'll have to take the palace." He let go of Tess when she began to wriggle under his tight grip. "With the large contingent of soldiers out of the palace, we have a better chance to form a stronghold outside the compound. Then we'll have the opportunity to lay siege to the palace and hold up whatever Khivar is shipping from Saren Dari - my guess Project Pilan."

"We don't have the men for this!" Tess began to pace in the empty corridor. "They're all a few hundred feet from this base, trying to deflect attention away from Mount Freiweils." Her gut instinct had been to trust General Steren from the day she had been introduced, but this made no sense. Their defensive contingent was stretched to the max. They couldn't last even at this rate.

If they had all Four...

"We can't pretend Max is coming to rescue us with one of his slow, but all too brilliant plans," Michael scoffed. "He isn't here to make everything better."

It was as if he had read her mind...

"God knows what has happened to Isabel and Max..." He turned away, trying to hide the pained expression that contorted his face every time the thought filled his head.

"Michael." She stopped her pacing and met the restless teenager's clouded gaze. "We're just going to weaken ourselves on both fronts." If they took men from their defensive post to strengthen their offensive battalion, they would be practically giving the Iturians their base; meanwhile, they would only gain an additional ten to thirty men...at the most. It would be like throwing stones at a giant.

"Well prepare yourself for it, Tess," Michael stated, waving his hand across the code pad that allowed him access to his quarters. "We may be the underdogs, but it's going to be one hell of a fight." He rolled his shoulders back and stared down at Tess' anxious face. "You know this is the right thing. We have no other choice, not when Khivar's planning his Coronation when Pela eclipses."

"So it is tonight?" Tess knew the day was coming, but it seemed to arrive sooner than she imagined. The previous night had been one uneasy and restless night. When she had awaken before the dawn, Tess walked the corridors of Mount Freiweils to rid herself of it; but now, it seemed to settle upon her and it all seemed to form a semblance of logic or reason.

"Yes." Michael remembered the last New Moons Festival he had attended. The entire city had been alight with candles, phosphorous lanterns, hydrogen lights. It had been a spectacular sight.

Tess nodded. She knew there was no more delay in the inevitable. Everything would come to a head tonight. Either they would free Antar from Khivar's growing insanity or once again die trying. Swallowing hard, Tess glanced over her shoulder and steeled herself for the looming momentous event. "I'll go get ready."

Without thinking Michael reached out and grabbed Tess by the arm. "Tess." He didn't know why he did it. "We've got to believe good wins, right?"

Slowly Tess turned her head, glancing up at Michael through hooded eyes. "You've been listening to Fadilia too much," she chuckled softly; her voice was tinged with an unexplained sadness.

"Tess." Michael squeezed her arm. "It always seems to work in the movies." He smiled half-heartedly. He couldn't even laugh at his own lame attempt to lighten the mood.

Tess closed her eyes and refused to allow the sense of doom that lay ahead for them to overwhelm her yet. She shook her head and raised her eyes to meet the dark steady gaze of her friend. Only he understood the weight that sat upon her shoulders right at this moment. "Never say die, right?"

Michael smirked. "Yeah."

~~~

"Retreat into the base." General Steren gave the ordered through the comlink, which was his only connection to Lieutenant Nuha of the 92nd Battalion, his own second in command, which he had sent out in aid to Captains Kelsar and Dermot, who were slowly besieged. Nuha had led the charge against the unsuspecting Iturian army in the Forests of Zillah.

"Sir?" A scratchy, distorted voice sounded over the speakers within the hollowed assembly hall. General Steren had surveyed the ongoing battle outside their mountainous facade; it was not going well. Decidedly so, that taking a few of the soldiers from their already diverse group of trained and untrained Antarians, thrown together as a brigade, would end in more deaths than he would like.

"I said fall back." General Steren lifted his finger from the smooth black transmission button on his comlink. He closed his eyes.

Please let this be the right thing to do.

~~~

"Have we received any word from Bel Maar or Ai?" Fadilia clasped her hands as she paced back and forth in the communications centre. The hollow, grey room was empty save two Antarians - one, who would refuse to leave her side and the other, whom she had requested to remain. "What about Jakar?"

"Your Highness, no one is responding. There is static on either side of the moons. The solar flares which occur before the eclipse have cut off any communication to even our closest planetary allies," a young officer answered.


Fadilia glanced over her shoulder and watched as the soldier, who had been unusually ordered to remain within the residential grounds, instead of assembling with the other Antarians, deftly pushed and prodded the numerous technological keys and instruments to will an answer for her. "Private Quirinius," she said, returning her gaze upon the empty black holoscreen. "I need you to show me the Forests of Zillah."

"Your Highness," a soft feminine voice urged. "We must secure you below."

Fadilia's gaze remained fixed upon the once empty space above the circular console, which was now clouding with a fine mist. "Emine, I will remain above ground." Her tone was adamant, as the shadowed outlines of trees and other brush began to form in front of her eyes, hovering as a translucent movie over the console. She immediately felt her heart seize. Fadilia watched groups of men and women slaughtered before her eyes, but that was not all she witnessed; it was the slaying of infants, children she had watched grow up into talented and beautiful young men and women - husbands and wives.

Her vision blurred; she leaned her body against the console.

"Your Majesty," Emine gasped worriedly.

Fadilia felt the young woman's hands slide under her arms, supporting her body, as she stumbled backwards. "I'm all right," she whispered reassuringly, closing her eyes to the silent images flashing before her.

"Your Highness?" Quirinius frowned. "Should we not be evacuating the main floor of the grounds?"

Fadilia turned around with Emine standing watchfully by her side and gazed steadily toward the youth. "I will not leave the Inner Sanctum unguarded," she said determinedly. "With our troops retreating and preparing for an assault elsewhere, there will be no one here to oversee the fluid transition of our people to the Basin, and the long-awaited return of my son and daughter." Spinning around, she once again watched as her people quickly and effortlessly disappeared into the maze of brown and green foliage.

Over the decade, the hunted and persecuted Antarians had familiarized themselves with the mountainous range, which they had come to call home. The Forest had been a playground for the children born within Mount Freiweils caves; and now it had turned into a battlefield. And as they now retreated into its thick and lustrous walls, Fadilia could only anxiously watch, waiting to hear someone announce that they had returned to safety.

"Show me the corridors," she commanded, wanting a break from the mounting anxiety, as the Iturian army gave chase to her people. "I need to know how the evacuation is running." Because the Assembly Hall had been designated the mobilization area for the Loyalist Army, since it was the only room large enough to hold the entire contingent of soldiers, the evacuation of mothers and children, elderly and disabled had been a slow process, with the soldiers overcrowding the already flooded corridors in an attempt to reach the Hall.

"On screen now, Your Highness."

The corridors were definitely crowded. General Steren had left behind a few soldiers, dispersed throughout the corridors to guide the masses towards the Basin. They were not exactly warranted as she and General Steren always made it a priority to have a drill once a year, so if any unexpected attack or invasion by Khivar's army threatened their safety, there would be an automatic protocol to abide by.

"Your Highness?"

"Yes, Quirinius."

"General Steren is sending a transmission from the Hall."

Fadilia inhaled deeply and nodded. "Transmit." She silently awaited the familiar voice. Glancing at the chronometer glowing upon the console. The large contingent of soldiers would soon be moving on Eshtari.

"Your Highness, we have sealed all possible entrances to the Inner Sanctum."

Fadilia glanced up at the terror-filled faces of her people as they filed into various level transports positioned in different wings of the residential living areas. The youth were ordered to use the tunnel paths, which were easier for them to maneuver down than the elderly. Before entering into the transports and the natural passageways to the Basin, the soldiers were positioned to check for identification bracelets; this allowed the leaders, which she and General Steren had appointed, to quickly identify any missing people from the community. "Have all of our people returned safely?" Fadilia couldn't imagine leaving any of their men or women alone to face the harsh torture Khivar's men would inflict on them.

There was a brief static hum over the speakers as she waited for General Steren's response.

"We cannot be certain of that, Your Highness."

Fadilia curled her fingers into a tight fist, as her stomach churned at the expected reply. "Do they have safe havens they can fortify themselves in?"

"They have been briefed on the protocol, if they should not reach the Inner Sanctum within the allotted timeframe."

"Fine." There was nothing else she could possibly say. "Will you leave soon?"

"We are mobilized and prepared to leave as soon as possible."

"Have Michael and Tess arrived yet?"

"Not yet."

Fadilia nodded silently, as if General Steren could see her response. Closing her eyes, she clasped Emine's hand tightly in hers; the handmaiden squeezed comfortingly, as silence filled the large room.

Oh great Unseen, watch over my people. Give them speed and alertness. Fadilia exhaled slowly. She opened her eyes and looked upon a new image. Quirinius was now tapped into the Assembly Hall, projecting a holographic transmission of row upon row of uniformed soldiers. An unexpected feeling of pride filled her heart, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Take care my children."

~~~

Nicholas leaned back comfortably into his cushy chair as he surveyed each of the ongoing skirmishes near Eshtari's borders. The Loyalists had seemed to amass quite a number of the rural, lower class subjects to join their cause. He rubbed his upper lip as his mind traveled to the possible locations perfect for a hidden base. Several had come to mind, but none seemed likely. What he needed was one of the Kedran traitors. If he could just get his hands on one of their weak-willed minds, Nicholas would know exactly where the rebels were hiding.

A soothing ring echoed in his large quarters, within the palace walls. Someone was at his door.

He made himself at home quite quickly. The leisure comforts that were afforded the royal guard were anything less than extravagant. Nicholas closed his eyes and rubbed the weariness that always seemed to seep into his eyes if he stared at the fluorescent screen for prolonged periods of time. "Come in." As he spun around in his chair, there before him was Barak, one of his closest comrades - as close as he allowed anyone to be. "Barak!" he exclaimed in delight. "You've arrived."

"Yes, Commander." The tall rigid officer saluted the higher-ranking officer.

Nicholas pushed himself up from his seat and pursed his lips. A brilliant idea had just come over him. "Barak, I need you to do something for me." Barak stared at him curiously. "It's not something dangerous," he said dismissively. "I just need you to aide me in moving along the proposed timeline on our celebration."

"Sir?"

"Come along," Nicholas said, striding past his confused underling, as he waved for him to follow. "We're going to give our Highness an early coronation gift."

[jayta]

Chapter Sixty Seven


***

Treat people as if they were what they ought to be and you help them to become what they are capable of being.

- Goethe

***

"Liz."

Kyle was still stunned at the whole state of affairs. As he shuffled into Liz's semi-private room behind his father, the silence spoke volumes. The girl, who always seemed to bubble over with life, lay before him in a coma. The doctor said that he had no idea whether she would wake up or not.

Jim glanced behind him, hearing the worry in his son's voice. He had never been more frightened for one person in his life. As he raced down the desert road and up to the steps of Roswell Memorial Hospital, his thoughts were for the Parkers. How would they feel about losing their only daughter?

He knew the horror of almost losing a son and watching him almost die in his arms. It was something he wouldn't wish on any father or mother.

Jim let out an uncomfortable sigh, as he stared warily at the 17 year old senior, who in only a few months would have been graduating from high school. It was an insane risk he took, whisking the girl to the human hospital, when Max could have healed her in mere seconds. But something in his gut told him that there had been hesitancy in that method of healing; and after seeing the state of Isabel's own health, he knew that the boy needed to conserve whatever power he had left to save his sister.

"Dad, you have no idea how glad I was to see you." Kyle slapped his father on the back.

It was the truth. He had been so freaked out; in fact, he still believed he was in shock over the hundreds of bodies that he saw. They were all real people.

"Where the hell do you get off disappearing into the night without a word?" Jim spun around and confronted his son - a fury of unleashed anger bubbling to the surface. "Do you have any idea what kind of thoughts ran through my mind, boy?" he yelled, pushing his index finger into Kyle's chest.

"I would have put out an A.P.B. except I didn't want to alert the wrong people, just in case you, Max, Isabel, and Michael were caught in... by those unmentionable things that shouldn't be seen or talked about."

Kyle's eyes widened at his father's unexpected outburst. "Whoa Dad!" he coughed, not sure whether he should laugh or be offended. "I didn't mean for any," he pointed to Liz, "of this to happen!"

Jim rubbed his forehead and let out a frustrated sigh. He knew that Kyle never meant for any of this to happen. This is what you get for stickin' your nose in other people's business. "I know," he grunted, patting Kyle's shoulder. "I just need you to tell me how all of this got so out of hand." Jim peered down the hallway for any signs of nurses or doctors.

It was clear.

"It didn't start out like some sci-fi movie," Kyle began, "well, I guess it kind of did, since all movies tend to start out normally so that..."

"Kyle!" Jim didn't have the patience for side stories, not when the Parkers were sure to have been notified of Liz's state.

Kyle jumped, widening his eyes at his father's flustered state. "Chill Dad," he replied calmly. "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"Look Kyle," Jim pointed at his son, "I just want to know what put Liz in this bed and how the hell those bodies ended up in the desert."

"In fact, why don't you tell me who in Sam hell they are, and what kind of backlash - F.B.I., C.I.A. - we're going to be dealing with in the next few days."

Kyle stepped back as his father kept coming at him. It was like his dad thought he orchestrated the whole ordeal. With everything he had been through in the last 24 hours, he should have been given some medal of honor or something.

"I'll give you the Cliff notes version," he said curtly, not appreciating his father's accusatorial tone.

"Liz and I were out at the theme park the night before, just to help her forget about Max and the fact that Tess came back." He moved in closer to Liz's bed. "I took her out so we could see the Northern Lights that were out, which should have been a dead give away," he moaned in foresight. "And that's where we saw Michael, Tess and the spaceship."

"Spaceship?" Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing. As much as he knew Max, Isabel, Michael, and Tess were aliens, for his son to say that he saw a spaceship was an incredible phenomenon. It just went to prove that there were aliens out there.

"Yeah," Kyle nodded, "and Michael and Tess took off with the other aliens."

"Took off..." Jim felt like he was hearing something only a child would come up with, wild tales of spaceships and aliens. He felt his mouth hanging agape.

"Then Liz and I went to Michael's apartment and Max and Isabel came back from their trip." Kyle continued on, ignoring his father's apparent shock. He began to pace back and forth, trying to recall the details of the past couple of nights. "He came back and we found out from Maria that Tess didn't kill Alex; it had all been a lie, a set up by Tess to protect us."

"Apparently she had made a deal with Khivar, but found out that he was lying to her and she double-crossed him. He killed Alex, not Tess."

Jim felt like his brain was on overload. "Tess didn't killed Alex?" he muttered under his breath. Jim looked up at his son and frowned. "When did we find that out?"

"And when did Max and Isabel take off?"

There had been a lot happening around Roswell in the past month that he apparently hadn't been aware of.

""Pregnant..."

"So once we figured that everything Tess told us was a lie, Max went after Liz, who ran out," Kyle continued on, "and we headed over to the Evans', where Isabel was and with the missing Jesse."

"Jesse was missing?" Jim cried. He was getting tired of being left in the dark. For all he knew, Kyle could have been killed and he wouldn't have known for days...if ever. He would have been left wondering. "I'm the Sheriff of this town and no one bothered to think to include me? Why the hell wasn't I told any of this?"

Kyle looked at his father speechless as he shrugged. "Dad, everything just happened so fast!"

"Well apparently not fast enough to not involve the Evans."

"Dad," Kyle cried out in frustration. "We didn't go to them with this stuff. Believe me, if they could have been left out of it, they would have. But we - Isabel, the Evans and I - got taken hostage by the aliens." He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. "Everything happened so fast..." he repeated softly.

Just then, Jim finally saw the toll the past couple of nights had taken on Kyle, and a flood of regret and remorse filled him. He slid his arm around Kyle's shoulder and embraced him. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, son," he whispered. "I shoulda been there."

Standing in his father arms, Kyle felt all his strength escape him. Fatigue and exhaustion seeped into every muscle and he had trouble even standing up. "Dad, I was so scared that I was going to die," he choked out. "I don't want you to think that I don't love you."

Kyle's declaration of love seemed to come out of nowhere. Jim frowned, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I know that," he rubbed Kyle's back, "I know that, son."

"I just didn't want to die without telling you one more time," he whispered, as he began to choke on his tears. Kyle felt his eyes brim over with tears. "I was so close to dying."

Jim pulled him in closer to him and squeezed him harder, trying to will those painful memories away. "I will always love you, Kyle. Always."

"Now," he sniffed, pulling back from Kyle, "how did you escape?"

"Well, the leader," Kyle rubbed his wrists unconsciously, as he recalled walking across the desert in those bonds, "I guess he thought he would use us as leverage; well at least the Evans and me."

"Where was Isabel?"

"T-they separated us," Kyle stammered, unable to fathom the torture Isabel endured at the hands of those sadistic bastards. "I don't know what they did to her; in fact I have no idea how she got out to where we were in the first place. She just showed up."

"Anyway, Max, Liz and Jesse must have known what was happening because he was out on the cliffs prepared for the attack." Kyle remembered the blinding fog that enveloped him and his captors; he had never felt more afraid or relieved. Only then did he feel he could hope again, that there was a possibility that the whole ordeal wouldn't end in his death.

"Kyle?" Jim nudged him as he seemed to fall into a trance-like state.

"Uh, yeah," he breathed. "So there we were in the desert and this fog suddenly appears.." Kyle stepped back, and stood beside Liz's bed. "I don't know how long it was, but somewhere in the confusion, Liz and Jesse showed up." A smile tugged at corner of his lips.

"I don't know when I more glad to see her face then at that moment." Kyle turned and looked over at his father. "She was like a genie or something, stealing us away from the big, bad aliens."

"So how did she get like this?" Jim frowned. There were so many missing pieces to the whole picture.

"I don't know," Kyle whispered, beginning to get choked up again. "I told her she should come with us." He looked down at Liz, who showed no signs of awareness of the conversation in the room. "But you're so stubborn." Kyle rested his hand on her arm. "Too stubborn for your own good."

Jim comfortingly patted his son on the back. Liz had been the closest thing to love that Kyle had ever experienced. And he could see how her lifeless state was tearing him apart, especially when he felt partially responsible.

"I took the Evans back to Roswell like Max told me to..." His voice trailed off. Glancing over his shoulder, Kyle swallowed hard as he looked at his father in the face. "He told me to take Liz back too, but I didn't listen...I didn't make her come with me."

"It's not your fault, son," Jim replied reassuringly. "You couldn't have known."

"But I did!" Kyle exclaimed through his tears. "I did know! I felt it in here," he pointed to his gut, "but I just watched her leave." He turned his focus back to Liz.

"So how did you get back to the desert?" Jim hated to press him, but if he was going to try to help Max and Isabel, he needed to know everything up until he arrived.

"Larek...Brody, drove."

"Why did you go with him?"

"I had to," Kyle explained warily. "I was the only one who could show him where Max was."

"And what did you see when you got..."

"Sir," a woman's voice suddenly interrupted him. Jim and Kyle both turned around to find an elderly woman in scrubs standing in the door way. "Can I ask you to please keep it down?"

Jim swallowed hard. How much had she heard? He cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. "Uh, sorry M'am."

The woman seemed satisfied by his apology. She walked into the room and picked up Liz's chart. Briefly glancing at several different machines in the room, the nurse jotted down some notes onto the sheet attached to the silver clipboard.

"Dad, can we do this later?" Kyle leaned over and brushed a stand of the dark brown hair from Liz's cool brow.

She looked so peaceful, like Sleeping Beauty, except he was no prince. Kyle slowly sunk down into the chair he had noticed earlier, behind him. Resting his chin against the metal railing that barred each side of the hospital bed, he stared down at one of his closest friends.

I can't lose her...not like this.

~~~

"Why haven't we heard from Counselor Larek?" A regal pale-skinned figure robed in navy blue frowned.

"He has yet to contact us, Sir," another pale-faced figure replied tentatively. The Ithmarian was robed in baby blue was younger than his irritated superior. "And he left strict instructions not to contact him."

"Juno, we've got a short window of opportunity left." Captain Kel bristled at the Counselor's irresponsible behavior. He had given Larek specific instructions about the narrow timeline they were dealing with, if they were to return before the final lunar equinox. To make things worse, their ship would not have enough fuel to wait around much longer for Zan and Vilandra to make up their minds. If they did not arrive in the next few minutes, they would be grounded until the next lunar cycle.

"Sir," Lieutenant Juno said slowly, uncertainhow his captain would react to his readings. "We have readings of an unexpected polarization developing on G72-03's atmosphere."

Captain Kel pulled up the anomaly on screen. The light blue haze was no more than a pin prick on his monitor; it pulsed and their sensors read a large magnetic energy emitting from the image before them. He tried to pull in closer, trying to zoom in on ground level, but their magnification was unable to capture those images.

Captain Kel watched the growing mass. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like what he saw.

This mission was not going as well as they had all hoped and prayed it would.

~~~

"I have a ship waiting for my signal." Larek glanced down at his chronometer. Captain Kel would definitely lecture him on punctuality when they boarded the ship.

"Max and Isabel aren't going anywhere." The human guardian known as 'Mrs. Evans' declared evenly, stepping in front of her son.

Larek groaned inwardly. They had no time for this foolishness. He looked at Zan for help on this human level.

Zan stepped forward. "Mom..."

Larek reached down into his jacket and pulled out small, smooth object. It was crafted, in appearance, as a rock-like substance; a description of it in human vocabulary would have been something akin to a pebble. He ran his thumb over the surface. Immediately the pebble began to vibrate under his fingertips. When Larek was about to contact his ship, he was distracted by a sudden shift in atmospheric tension.

"What's going on?" Zan said darkly.

Larek glanced over his shoulder at the small group of humans huddled around Zan, as if instinctively believing he would be able to protect them. "I do not know," he said slowly, as his eyes darted around the desert plain. "But I do not think we should should remain out in the open where we are so vulnerable."

Just as he was about to escort Zan and his human guardians to a sheltered area of the former battlefield, the shimmer of the full moon flickered, as if a flame, and withdrew into the night. The orange-tinged warmth of this galaxy's sun, however, did not trail upon its wake. Time seemed to have skidded to an abrupt halt. The ominous, grey clouds that had previously filled the sky, rolled in swiftly, veiling the lunar apparition that had once shed light upon their enemies.

Larek strained to distinguish forms, shadows or shapes. It was as if someone had blindfolded him. Larek stiffened, aware of the possibility of attack from Khivar's remaining men. Qunar had a main camp, which he had marched out from. He was sure of this. "Zan, stay close to me," he called into the darkness, uncertain of Zan and Vilandra's exact whereabouts.

He could hear the shuffling of feet and muffled voices behind him.

"Larek, over there!"

Larek was confused. He had no comprehension of where Zan was calling his attention to; but it was only for a brief moment. The cause of this sudden blackout revealed itself quickly.

The air sizzled; thin, static streams of light flared out of a small sliver of white piercing the darkness less than a hundred feet in front of him. A high pitched hum cut through the eerie silence that had fallen over the desert. The anomaly was no more than a couple of inches in circumference, but growing steadily.

"Max, what is happening?" Mrs. Evans cried.

Larek glanced over his shoulder; the unknown source emitted enough light for him to be able to locate the three huddled figures behind him, with another in Mr. Evans' arms. "We need to find shelter," he exclaimed, suddenly feeling a strong, invisible pull drawing him towards the light.

"Counselor," a static voice bellowed from his hand.

Larek frowned and looked down at the communicator in his hand. He pressed the flat side of the smooth oblong surface. "What is it?" This was not protocol.

"I told you not to contact me...to wait for my signal."

"Coun..." static crackled from the communicator, "lor. Window closing." Larek strained to focus on what his men were saying. "Polari...tion stronger."

Larek ran over to Zan. He knew they did not have much time. "Find them shelter," he commanded calmly. "Then we must leave." Zan began to protest. "We have no time!"

He began pushing them back, frantically searching for some form of shelter which they could hide behind. Whatever was the cause of the energy field, they had to get out of its way before it pulled them in.

~~~

Max was confused and distracted. Larek was not giving him enough time to figure out what exactly was happening. As Max scrambled backwards, to a small group of rocks, he saw the source of the light.

It was about the size of a baseball; although only a few minutes earlier it had been about the size of a golf ball. There seemed to be some magnetic field involved with the light source. Bolts of light shot out from the bright anomaly. Its' reach was increasing by the minute.

Qunar.

The exact location where he had watched Qunar die was where this light source appeared. Had he missed something?

"Go!" Max was suddenly met by Larek's stern gaze. "We have to get out of here!" Larek cried, spinning him around and pushing him hard.

"Where?" Max had been standing here for the past hour or so, fighting Qunar; there was no place to hide that wasn't a couple hundred feet away. "There's no where to run," he said firmly, turning around to see the brilliant light dimmed, clouded by a curtain of dust, swirling in front of its hungry mouth. "There must be a reason its here - a cause."

"Did you not hear me, Zan?" Larek shouted at him, as the hum had become louder. "We do not have the time to analyze this phenomenon. We must get you and Vilandra home."

Max spun around and glanced at his 'possessed' friend, before his gaze darted past to his parents, who were several feet away from him, waiting anxiously for his reply to Larek's blunt declaration. "We can't return," his gaze met Larek's, "until I know this thing won't consume everything in its path."

Max swallowed hard, waiting for the alien's response.

Larek's intense eyes bore into his, as if looking into his soul, not turning away for a moment. "Fine." He spun around and motioned to Max's parents. "Go with them, until I can get some reading on this anomaly," he said resignedly.

Max hesitated for a moment before jogging towards his parents. He knew Larek was unhappy about his choice; choosing to return to Antar was a huge step in itself, but he could never save one home from complete destruction, while leaving another to utter ruin. He just couldn't.

"Max, what is happening?" his mother asked, completely distraught.

"He's going to try and get a reading on the anomaly," he explained, distancing them from the pull of the vacuum. "We don't know what it is, but hopefully we'll figure it out soon...then we'll know what to do."

Max studied his father's shadowed face. He had been so quiet. It was unlike him.

Max slid his arm around his father's shoulder, tilting his head, gesturing towards the rock behind him. His father furrowed his brow, as if it ward off the wariness that was etched upon his face. But the elder Evans' gave in and rested his strained muscles.

Max's eyes scanned Isabel's pale face, discerning whether she was any worse for wear; he knew he had to get her some medical attention soon if she was going to survive.

"But Max, why is this all happening?" his mother questioned.

Max glanced over his shoulder, seeing Larek/Brody inch his way closer to the entity, in an attempt to get some reading on the growing monstrosity, and then turned his attention back to his mother's frightened expression. This had been the day Isabel had been waiting for since they were sixteen. Max remembered Isabel's tear-stained cheeks, as he denied her the choice of explaining to the Evans who and what they are.

"You told her?" Isabel looked at him excitedly.

"No." Max shook his head. Her shoulders dropped and it seemed like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just...I just wanted her to know . I wanted her to know so bad."

Max cringed at the memory. He looked down upon Isabel's limp body cradled in their father's arms. "M-mom," he said, his voice almost shaking.

He would tell them. He would tell them for Isabel.

~~~


"So you remember the how to get to the Inner Sanctum?"

"When did you become aware of the secret passageways?" Michael frowned at the small detail that no one knew except the remaining few of the Kedrans, who had served the last reigning son of Cian. There was no way Tess could have known except that her memory was finally being restored bit by bit. He grabbed her shoulders and looked her squarely in the eye. "Do you remember?"

Tess instinctively pulled away; but as she was confronted by the accusation, she paused and tried to recall how that information came to the forefront of her mind. "I don't know." She shook her head, running her fingers through her disheveled hair. "It just came to me when you began talking about the underground tunnel systems." Standing there, the reality of her continuing restoration of her memories filled her with excitment.

Would she be able to remember it all?

"Your Highness." Yasu cleared his throat and waited quietly to be addressed. Tess nodded, giving him permission to speak. "With your permission, I can assemble and prepare a tactical assault team while you and Commander Guerin," he glanced over at Michael, "...prepare the manner of our entry." He lowered his eyes in humble submission.

Tess glanced over at Michael to see if he was in agreement with Yasu's suggestion, knowing that the trusted soldier was giving them space to speak privately about the unspoken subject of her memory loss.

"Agreed." Michael tilted his head towards the small clearing, not more than ten feet from them, signalling for the soldiers to take their leave.

He silently watched the younger soldiers trail Yasu as he led them away. Mentally he scolded himself for bringing up the subject in front of them; he knew better. Though the Loyalists were faithful to their queen, they could not be comfortable with the thought that Tess was unable to recall her life on Antar.

"Do you remember the passageways?" Tess stared intently at Michael, focused on the task at hand.

Michael locked eyes with Tess. "No, " he shook his head, "in fact, if you recall, I wasn't shown the passages."

Tess frowned. "How can that be?"

Michael bent over the layout of the tunnel system and sighed. "I died before they showed me." He looked up wryly at Tess, who seemed to upset at herself for not remembering, and smiled. "But hey, this is one way to go." He turned and looked out at the towering city of Eshtari, built on a hill, but what some might call a mountain. "At least it won't be a boring way to memorize the passageways."

Tess looked at Michael uneasily. His humor always arose at the oddest times. He winked at her.

"Let's get this planned," Tess sighed, rolling her eyes at him. "I want this plan to be flawless."