(story) Drawing the Line (/story)

Drawing the Line
By F�nix

Began: 11-24-99
Finished: 12-29-99

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Harsh fluorescent tubes lit the Code-G's underground headquarters. The white light flickered across the anxious features of Ethin as he stood in front of a large oak desk. A man sat opposite him, reading over a sheaf of papers. They rustled slightly in their file folder as he flipped the pages.

Everything about El, the leader of Code-G, radiated hardness. From his obsidian-black hair slicked back over his head, to the face that could have been carved from granite, to eyes the color of flint.

Sweat beaded on Ethin's brow as El flipped through the pages. With a snap of his wrist, he threw the folder onto his desk, causing Ethin to start. The slap echoed through the small chamber. No decorations adorned the solid oak, making the papers seem even more out of place. El balled his hand into a fist, then relaxed it, flexing age-hardened muscles under his tight skin.

"You have failed." His voice was as hard as diamond. It echoed off the stone walls, making Ethin feel very small. He swallowed nervously, trying to wet his throat. "Sir, if you'd just give me a chance to explain..."

"No. You have not only failed, you have failed miserably. You took a squad of our finest marines against a bunch of rag-tag misfits, and you failed! No amount of explanation justifies that."

El's face was cold and expressionless, but fire danced in his eyes.

"But, sir, that place is literally a fortress tha..."

"Silence! Remember your place."

Ethin straightened and nodded briskly. "Yes sir." Sweat stung his eyes and his throat still felt dry. He swallowed several times.

"That is better." El clasped his hands and stared at the papers for several seconds. His eyes defocused, giving Ethin the impression that he was looking at something very far away. Ethin fought down the impulse to fidget as the seconds ticked by. Finally, El looked up. The fire in his eyes was gone, replaced by cold steel.

"You are very lucky your record is so impeccable. I am willing to dismiss this as a 'glitch.'" Ethin sagged in relief, then realized what he was doing and immediately straightened his shoulders and smoothed his shirt. He nodded briskly. "Thank you sir."

"Do not thank me, Ethin. I will not be so tolerant should you have another 'glitch.'"

Ethin swallowed hard, feeling butterflies in his stomach. "Y-yes sir."

"You are dismissed."

Ethin snapped his heels together and strode out the door, ramrod straight. As soon as the door had closed behind him, he sagged against the wall. His legs quaked beneath him, barely able to support his weight. A single small tear slipped from his eye, slipping down his cheek and onto the floor as his whole body started shaking in relief.

Ethin barely noticed as Gibbs, Code-G's third-in-command, walked past him into El's office.

"I see you went easy on him."

El stood up from behind his desk and walked over to a painting on the wall. "I do not like to waste valuable resources."

"So compassionate of you." Sarcasm dripped from his words.

El turned from the painting and looked Gibbs in the eye. Even after all these years Gibbs still found that stare disturbing. "Ours is not a profession for compassion. You should know that by now."

"Yes sir. Now, about our operations in Michigan..."

"No no no! F�nix! Aluminum foil will not stop armor-piercing rounds!"

"Sure it will. Haven't you ever seen the hulls of military planes?"

"F�nix, that's titanium!"

"That's what they want you to think. Commies." That was the worst insult in F�nix's vocabulary. It also seemed to be about his only insult.

Sender just shook his head and walked on. Talking sense into F�nix was like gluing Teflon together. No matter how hard you tried, it just didn't stick. He looked at all the holes yet to patch and shivered slightly at the cold air coming through. That last Code-G raid had really done a number on the castle. Not that it had been warm and cozy before (medieval castles were not designed with central heating in mind), but the wind coming through just made it seem colder.

He sighed and hefted the wrapped package under his arm. It should not break if he let it fall, but better safe than sorry. He looked again at all the holes in this section of the stairway. At the rate they were going, the entire castle would be patches and tape before the year was out.

Sender shook his head again to clear his mind. "Think happy thoughts, Sender." he muttered. He had to grin at that. F�nix must have been wearing off on him for him to be talking to himself. He walked up the rest of the flight and pushed open a door. Akari was still in there, repairing the window frame.

She must have heard the door open. "Did they have it?" she asked through a mouth full of nails, not bothering turning around. She was positioning the wooden frame pieces together where they had been split by a stray bullet.

"Yes. Grade-A bullet-resistant glass." He tapped the bundle under his arm.

"Great. Now help me get this thing up."

"It cost a bit though." Her shoulders slumped. He could understand it. Their funds were getting very short, and Code-G kept stepping up their efforts to get at them. We need the glass, though. Someone might get killed without it. He unconsciously rotated his shoulder, feeling the new skin where a bullet had grazed him. Someone might get killed.

"Don't worry." He stepped over and squatted down behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Subscriptions are due in next week. Besides, if worst comes to worst, we can always sell Fenrir to the military. They'd pay handsomely for a bona fide alien."

She tried to hide her giggle, but that seemed only to make it worse. He watched her struggle, trying to hold them in, until she finally ended lying on her back, laughing uncontrollably with tears streaming down her cheeks. He chuckled. "Oh come on, I thought it was a good idea."

She laughed harder. She tried to throw a rag at him and missed by a good three feet. He chuckled wryly. "Gotta be able to aim better than that, Akari."

"Oh, be quiet." Finally, her laughs subsided, leaving her short of breath. Her chest heaved slowly up and down. He leaned over to give her a hand. As he bent down he saw her eyes catch the light, making them glitter like onyx. Strange how he'd never noticed how pretty those eyes were. They were like little pools that...

He realized he was staring at her and gave himself a mental shake. Garr would kill me if he found out I'd been thinking that. At least Garr was still over in Europe with Shutat. He had no idea what a "Traditional Solstice Celebration" was, but they had left a few days ago and should be back the next week.

He grabbed her hand and lifted her to her feet. "I think we'd better get started on those windows before someone decides to break up our little party."

"I suppose you're right." She grabbed the hammer and nails from where she had dropped them and began repairing the frames. Sender got out the plate glass. It was going to be a long day.

Seth glanced up from his work to check on Fenrir. Quickly interpreting the heat, pulse, and EM "aura" that surrounded the hydralisk, Seth determined that Fenrir was excited about something Most likely it was whatever had taken up the last four hours of work time.

He could make nothing of the contraption in front of Fenrir. Something from that faculty humans called "intuition" told him that Fenrir was trying to highjack a cable line for that "Babylon 5" program he was so obsessed about. Seth's time as a Borg drone had purged him of any human inclination to believe in intuition, but his experiences since then had taught him that it had an uncanny ability to be right. He knew that it had to be reducible to exact stimuli and responses, but so far what exactly those were eluded him.

Seth turned back to his little area of lab space. Had he picked up the tendency to sigh, he would have then. For six straight hours he had been working on this problem. His nanoprobes had done an excellent job keeping him functioning at peak efficiency, but they could only do so much when disconnected from the hive mind. Now they were probably at their limits. He would have to regenerate soon, or the effects would begin to show.

His optical implant gave a faint whirr as it adjusted to maximum magnification. Artificial colors enhanced his microscopic test subjects. Mountains a fraction of a centimeter high stood out on the rough granite base. Swarming all over it were hundreds of tiny nanoprobes, trying to fulfil their programming.

Satisfied that the probes were still operating normally, Seth zoomed out and looked over the table for the instrument he would need for the next phase. A highlighted box appeared in his vision, drawing his attention to the geologist's hammer, half-buried under various Borg snap-on technologies.

Seth carefully moved the attachments and grabbed the hammer. He hefted it slightly to get its mass and torque. Lifting it at precisely thirty-seven and one-half degrees and positioning the head twenty-six point four centimeters above the small granite stone, he swung it down.

The rock split neatly in two, right down the center. Seth, satisfied that it had worked thus far, stood up. He had about an hour to regenerate before the experiment would be finished. If all went well, he would be able to exapnd it in a few more days. That would give Code-G a pause. He headed off to his regeneration chamber.

"Angel?" Sender knocked softly on her door. "Angel?"

Shh. Let her sleep. She needs it.

Sender stepped away from the door and began whispering. "I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't see you."

Ha ha. Very funny. My non-existent jaws are aching. Now, let her alone before you wake her up. She needs as much rest as she can get.

"You still care for her, don't you?" Sender asked into the air. He heard a ghostly sigh.

More than you know...

"Any luck talking with her?"

None. Here, watch. Angel. Angel! ANGEL!

Sender waited for several seconds, but nothing came from within the room. "I...I'm sorry, man." He could not think of anything else to say. How bad would it be if your true love could not see, touch, or even hear you?

Nothing you can do about it. Sender heard another sigh, like the wind blowing against the castle walls. I just wish I could at least talk to her.

Sender wracked his mind, trying to find some way to help his friend. "What about dreams? Ghosts are supposed to be able to affect dreams, right?"

Tired it. Works, but it's like pushing a boulder uphill. Only gets harder the longer I kept it up.

There had to be some way to get his friend's mind off his death. "How about a game of Doom? It's been forever since we've gone one on one."

That's before it took my entire concentration to move the keys. I'll pass, thank you.

"Well, then, any ideas on how to pass the time?" Sender waited for an answer. "Umm...Jeff? Any ideas?" No answer. "Jeff? You there buddy?" Nothing. He was just talking to empty air. Muttering under his breath about ghosts, Sender walked off to the main room. He reached the door and paused, then leaned against the frame. Akari was sitting on the couch, reading. He had yet to figure out what book it was this time; she always hid it whenever she heard someone approaching.

He just stood there and watched her, thoughts swirling through his head. You can't do this...yes, maybe I can...you're kidding yourself...there's no way...but what if...perhaps...no...yes...that can't be...but maybe... Sender shook his head. Might as well. What've I got to lose? A small voice in the back of his head whispered your life, but he ignored it.

Shaking his head again, he walked across the stone floor, carefully avoiding the "X" marks that showed where F�nix had somehow buried land mines in solid stone. One of these days they would catch him in the act. Probably about the same time they figured out where he got all his weaponry from.

"Akari?" She quickly closed the book and hid it in her lap. He didn't even have a chance to read the title. She turned around and looked up at him, waiting. Her eyes glittered in the soft lighting. His heart started going ninety miles an hour. Quickly, he licked his lips.

"I was, uh, wondering if you, that is..." Just say it! "That is, would you like to go see the new Bond film tomorrow night?" There, see? That wasn't so hard, was it Sender? he told himself.

He saw her turning over the idea in her mind. Oh man, what if she says no?

"That sounds nice, Sender. You can count me in. Who else is coming?"

His jubilation paused. "Who else? Umm...I asked already. They...they have plans. Something Fenrir came up with." Stupid stupid STUPID! What happens when she asks about it? He saw her grinning, just barely. Now why was she doing that?

"Well, then, I'm glad you got to me first. I've got some stuff I need to do at my apartment. All right if you just swing by there on the way?"

All right? Of course it was all right! "Sure, no problem. Seven sound good?"

"Sounds great."

"Okay, then. I'll let you get back to your reading. What is it this time?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing important."

"If you say so." He turned and walked off, relief flooding through his body. Now I'm committed. He stopped dead. Now I'm committed!? Good heavens, what did I just do? Garr is going to kill me for this when he finds out... He didn't regret it though. Not one bit. Everyone has to risk it all sometime, don't they? He went upstairs, his thoughts in turmoil, not seeing the thin smile Akari flashed at his back before opening her book again.

Angel's room was mostly dark. In one corner, a small night-light glowed softly, a holdover from her childhood years. It showed a bear hugging a plush heart, and had been a gift from her mother when she was only three. To "chase away the dark," as her mother had said once. Angel had kept it through all the years, repairing it whenever it chipped or broke, as a reminder of the woman she could barely remember. Yet she loved that woman more than almost anything else.

A small lamp stand stood next her bed. Its sole decoration was a picture of Jeffy and her at some carnival they'd gone to outside of town. She was leaning back and Jeffy was holding a wad of cotton candy over her mouth like grapes for an Egyptian queen. They were both laughing, awash in their joy. Small water marks marred the glass cover of the picture from the tears she had recently shed over it.

Angel lay in bed, several quilts piled on top to keep the December cold out. Stone walls did a very poor job of insulation. The quilts made a jumble on the bed, as if she had been tossing and turning earlier. Now, though, she slept peacefully, her features relaxed, her mind away from the sorrows at hand.

Slowly, a bit of air to the side of her bed started to glow. Little blue motes formed in the air, swirling at random. More and more of them appeared, like tiny cyan pieces of dust. Gradually, they took on a pattern, outlining the form of a young man, somewhere in his late teens. His sharply chiseled features contrasted with the tender expression on his face. His ears turned up ever so slightly at the tips, and his eyes glowed brighter than the rest of him. He leaned over Angel's sleeping form. Slowly, as if afraid of what might happen, he brushed his lips across Angel's. She shivered slightly, and unconsciously pulled the covers up more.

The softly glowing form stood up, eyes closed in sorrow. When he opened his eyes, they swirled with pale blue. A single little mote fell from one of them, looking remarkably like a tear. It fell through the air, dissolving as it went until nothing remained. Little bits of blue began drifting away from the figure, as it slowly dissolved into the night, leaving the room once again lit by the one small night-light.

Angel shivered again and pulled up the covers. She shifted some more, then settled down. A small smile played over her face as her eyes began moving rapidly back and forth under their lids.

She stood in a grassy field in the bright sunshine. A breeze sprang up, rippling her hair out behind her shoulders. The grass felt soft and springy under her bare feet. She turned around slowly, letting her soft blue dress slide around her ankles. Birds sang somewhere in the distance, and butterflies flapped through the air. The scent of spring flowers was everywhere, bringing freshness to the world.

As she turned she saw a dark place on the horizon. It gave her a shiver, but she shrugged it off. She had gotten through that long ago. It could not hurt her now.

"Angel?" She turned to the voice, coming from the edge of a beautiful forest off to her right. She smiled then, joy filling her heart. Something in the back of her mind told her she shouldn't be happy, that something was wrong, but she brushed it off. It was swept away by her joy. It did not matter anymore.

"Angel?" Jeffy walked out of the forest's shadows, a lopsided grin on his face. His light olive skin seemed to shine in the bright summer sun.

She smiled wider and ran to him. He opened his arms and caught her, swinging her around in the air, laughing. He set her back in the grass, then tilted his head up and tenderly kissed her lips. Just a fleeting touch, then they drew apart and smiled at each other. No words were needed for this. She ran her finger over the cute little upturn his ear took, then moved her hand behind his head and brought him to her. Their mouths met, filling her with joy. If she felt any better she thought she would burst.

Time slowed, stretching into eternity. This was happiness, the happiness she had spent most of her life searching for. This was why she had gone through that endless stretch of darkness. But that was on the horizon now, never to be seen again. Everything would be all right, now. Everything would be all right.

A crack echoed over the plain. Jeffy jerked in her grasp, then went limp. She pulled away from him and saw a look of shock on his face, as he slumped to the ground, blood oozing from a hole in his chest. A red stain began spreading across his shirt, turning the bright white to crimson.

"Jeffy!" she screamed into the fading twilight. The sun disappeared, replaced by an endless stretch of dismal gray clouds. The bright green grass withered and died under her feet. The forest, one so vibrant and full of life, had turned brown and dead. A butterfly fell near her hand, then crumbled into dust before her eyes. A cold wind began to blow, sweeping away all the flowers.

She broke out into sobs. She grabbed Jeffy and held him tightly, feeling warm blood soak through her dress. His eyes stared at some point past her, some point she could not see. His lips moved slightly, barely able to get air out.

"Be strong...my...my Angel..." His eyes glazed over and rolled back into his head. She screamed again, hot tears blurring her vision. She dissolved into wracking sobs as Jeffy's body slumped to the ground, fading before her eyes.

She sat there, rocking back and forth, sobbing uncontrollably and not even caring about the lifeless world around her. She was numb, in shock. She saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, not even the biting winter cold around her.

She sat up, staring forward with empty eyes. There was a man standing there, not ten feet away. He held a gun by his side, still smoking in the wind. A thick shadow hung around him, obscuring any features he had.

"You will join him soon, you know."

Angel just sat there numbly, not caring what this man did to her. The cold wind blew her hair out. He slowly raised the gun and pointed it at her. At least she would be with Jeffy soon...

He fired.

Sender heard Angel walk into the kitchen and asked over his paper, "Sleep okay?". When she didn't answer, he looked up. One glance was enough to answer his question. She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair was badly tangled. Her eyes seemed locked on some far-off place only she could see. They were rimmed with red, as if she had been crying. She just stood there in her robe, looking at nothing.

"Angel?"

She jumped.

"Bad dreams?"

She nodded and sat down. He slid a cup of hot herbal tea over to her. She ignored it, staring at her hands.

"Care to talk about it?"

She shook her head and bit her lip. A tear ran down her cheek. The tea sat in front of her, steaming.

"Angel, you can't just keep this inside anymore. I'm getting worried about you. We all are." He stood up and walked over to her. If she kept this up her grief would destroy her from the inside out. He squatted down besides her chair and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You've got to let it out sometime, or you're break apart. Angel?"

Her shoulders heaved up and down in silent sobs. He slowly reached around and gently took hold of them, turning her to face him.

"Angel, let it out." He put on his best sympathetic face. It was hard, trying to help her mourn for someone he talked to every day.

Angel looked at him through red, tear-rimmed eyes. "He...he...I..."

She lunged from he chair and wrapped her arms around Sender, almost sending him to the ground. She buried her face in his shoulder. He could feel the hot tears soaking through his shirt and to his chest. Her body convulsed against his, releasing all her pain in one fell swoop.

He held her head against his chest, patting it softly and soothing her hair. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing. He was acting like the loving father she had never had. I startled him, especially since he had never had a father of his own. But he would shoot himself before he let something like that get in the way of helping a friend. He brushed some hair away from her eyes and whispered. "It'll be all right, Angel. It'll be all right."

Ethin reached around and grabbed the file folder from under his arm. This would be his way to show El he would not be beaten by some two-bit kids. He walked a little faster down the corridor to El's office. Punctuality was a virtue he could not afford to let slip. One among many he could not afford to let slip.

He knocked softly on the solid door. It bore no markings, nothing to distinguish it from a hundred others. But everyone in the base knew the Boss had his office behind it, and most dreaded being called in. A muffled "enter" came from within. He composed himself and turned the knob.

Inside, El sat behind his desk, wearing a pair of reading glasses. He looked up as Ethin entered, then set his glasses down on top of the report he had been reviewing. Ethin had no doubts that El knew exactly who he was before he had entered. A barely visible flick of El's eyes told Ethin he had glanced at the clock situated just above the doorway, where visitors could not see it.

"Take a seat, Ethin. You wanted to see me?"

Ethin nodded and sat down. He suddenly realized just how imposing the painting behind El could be. Taking up most of the back wall, it showed a scene from the Bible. A pillar of fire was descending from heaven and consuming the rebellious children of Israel. Shoots of flame spread from the pillar, giving death to those who thought running would bring escape. From Ethin's viewpoint in the chair, the brightest of the flames exactly framed El's scarred face.

He licked his lips, then placed his folder on the desk. "Sir, I have a new attack plan to use against WAD-R. After studying all our previous attacks, I believe this one has a high chance of success."

El did not even look down at the folder, but stared Ethin right in the eyes. "How high, Ethin? High enough to stake men's lives on it?"

Ethin swallowed. "Yes sir. I believe so, sir."

"You 'believe' so. Ethin, belief's can only take you so far. To risk a life, you must know. Do you know that this will work?"

Somehow that voice, barely raised during the entire short speech, had more of an impact than if he had yelled in Ethin's face. His hands went cold and he could feel sweat on the back of his neck. He licked his lips again.

"Yes sir. I do."

"How many people do you need for this?"

Why did he not just look? "Umm...three, sir. I plan on striking and debilitating them in all possible speed. But there are contingency plans."

El just stared at him over steepled fingers, looking deep into his eyes. That gray gaze suddenly felt like a cold steel instrument, picking him apart from the inside. His eyes glittered in the light, dancing cold flames. Finally, El broke his gaze and glanced down at the file folder. Ethin sighed slightly in relief.

El looked back up from the folder almost immediately , having never once opened it or moved it from where Ethin set it on the desk. He looked past Ethin, but he knew El was not looking at anything behind him. "Three. Three will draw much attention. I assume you have made preparations to dispatch any inquiries?" Ethin nodded at the pause. "Good. You may proceed with this plan. I will instruct Faraday to give his full co-operation to you."

Ethin nodded briskly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

El picked up his glasses again. "Do not thank me quite yet, Ethin. Thirty of my men's lives are at stake here, and I will hold you responsible if I believe they are wasted."

Ethin swallowed hard. "I...I understand, sir."

Putting on his glasses, El picked up the report again. "Dismissed."

Ethin quickly stood and picked up the file folder. After giving another nod, the only salute used in Code-G, he walked out.

Seth scanned the people gathered before him. Three humans of various degrees of normalcy and one hydralisk. He had not yet fully analyzed exactly why he had joined with this collection of individuals. Perhaps it was simply that he would not stand out among them. Or perhaps he wanted to form a type of collective with similar individual beings, that which humans called "friendship." Perhaps there was no reason at all, except for the chance happenings of the universe. The Borg did not believe in chance, but Klingons did, and respected her as a whimsical mistress, able to undo the courage of the best of warriors.

"If I may have your attention." The individuals stopped their gazings around his lab and focused on him. Well, three of them did. The one called F�nix kept laying a thin metallic foil on top of one table. At least the he was not yelling at him again. He appeared to be muttering, but Seth did not consider it worth his trouble to attenuate his auditory implants and discover what he was saying, so Seth ignored him and began his speech.

"I have spent the preceding days engaged in a project of extreme difficulty. Due to the large amount of damage that we sustain during each attack from either Code-G or Operation CWLAH, I have been searching for a way to minimize damage or facilitate in its repair. I have found the latter. Please direct your attention to the stone on this table."

Everyone, even F�nix, looked at the small slab of stone he had been working with for days now. He picked up the hammer attachment and, as he had done so often in the past days, split the rock into two clean halves.

Sender looked at him with skepticism, obviously not appreciating what was happening. "And what does breaking rocks have to do with Code-G attacks?"

Seth pictured a bat'leth going through Sender's neck, but forced his temper down. "Observe the rock more closely."

Sender shrugged (a very human gesture Seth had specifically avoided acquiring) and leaned a forward several degrees. He probably did not see anything as of yet, but to Seth's Borg-enhanced vision tiny rivulets of dust flowed between the two stone halves. The streamlets slowly widened, until they were large enough to be discerned by unassisted human vision. To his satisfaction, Seth heard Sender gasp.

"It...it's moving!"

"Indeed. I have infused the stone with Borg nanoprobes designed to keep it in an equilibrium located around a preprogrammed configuration. It will take approximately fifteen minutes for the stone to be restored to its original configuration. Naturally, something as large as the castle will take a great deal more time to complete."

Sender raised his vision from the rock and blinked several times. "Wha...? The castle? You plan on infusing the castle with these...these nanoprobes?" Did he not just say that? "What's to keep them from going amok and assimilating the planet?"

Seth pushed down another vision of Sender's death. That was not the way. Sender was unarmed and no match for Seth's combat skills. Patience was a virtue of a warrior, too. "I will hardwire their configuration. Also, they must be within a certain radius of a transmitter in order to function at all. That range is currently fixed at one hundred meters, enough to cover the entirety of the castle and a small part of the grounds. It cannot be extended more without a large input of energy, on such a scale as to make it impractical."

Sender stared at Seth. Small clues of posture, body temperature, and EM waves told Seth that Sender was upset, and logic said that it was at him. Why did these humans insist on not trusting him? "It is perfectly harmless, I assure you. It will also save us the need to repair the headquarters after each attack, as the nanoprobes will do that automatically. Materials costs will also drop significantly then."

Sender looked at the flowing dust, now a thick stream pulling the two halves together. "I don't know...it seems risky..."

Seth stared coldly at Sender. "It is perfectly safe, I assure you. The algorithms for this project have existed for centuries for use in Borg cubes."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Sender whispered. Seth was obviously not meant to hear the comment, so he ignored it. After going through several Klingon ritualistic killings in his head.

"All right, go ahead. I don't suppose there's much we can do to stop you." He was right, of course, but it would serve no purpose to point that out.

"I will implement them in one hour, when I have replicated sufficient nanoprobes for the task."

Sender shook his head, then stood up and left. The rest of the group followed quickly. Seth looked at his desk, now half-covered in aluminum foil. At least the nanoprobes were adaptable; he could use the extra elements in their replication soon enough.

Angel distantly heard everyone else come down from some meeting Seth had called. She had politely said she couldn't attend, claiming that she was not feeling too well. Which was technically true, but only Sender knew what she really meant.

All day she had been in a deep depression. That dream the night before kept haunting her. Every time she thought she had finally gotten away from it, the memory of the warm, sticky blood on her chest came back. Finally she had given up fighting off depression, and instead decided to let it run its course. So she wallowed in it, hoping to get it over with.

When everyone else came down and went about their activities, she sat in front of the television, eating chocolates and watching bad daytime soap operas, a box of tissues at her side. Maybe if she could actually believe that those flat, bad-acting people on the screen were worth something, she would forget for a while. Oh, to forget...

The TV flicked off. She turned around, scowling at whoever had interrupted her perfectly good depression.

"Angel? I zink zat you vill be needing zome 'elp."

She tried to stifle a giggle, and managed to fail miserably. The smile burst through her tear-streaked cheeks.

"Thanks, F�nix, I needed that."

"Feenix? Oh, him. No problem But I believe zat you zould really stop eatzing zat much chocolate. It iz bad for ze heart."

It looked like she was stuck talking to "Dr. Freud" again. She might as well play along. For several precious seconds there she had forgotten about the dream. Besides, there was always that slim chance that it might work.

"Okay, Dr. Freud. Whatever you say. But I'm fine, really."

F�nix grinned at her, somehow managing to look grandfatherly. "Zat ees vat you zink? You are very meestaken, Angel. I have been vatching you. You have been depressed far too much, as of late." Count on F�nix to state the blatantly obvious. "Vat I propose is zat ve go into your room and talk zome more. You cannot run vrom your problems, Angel. Iv you do, zey will vollow you alvays."

How could someone normally so crazy be so coherent when at his most insane? It just made no sense! But she smiled slightly and stood. F�nix escorted her into her room, then shut the door behind them.

"Now, if you vill please ley down on ze bed, ve vill begin."

Angel smiled again and laid down. F�nix pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, careful to turn it so that she could not see his face while talking. She saw him pull a pen and small notepad from his pocket.

"Now, Angel, I zink that you need to tell me everyzing zat is bothering you."

She breathed deeply, shuddering slightly. It took an effort to turn her mind from the dying field.

"I already told you everything about Jeffy, there's nothing more to say. It's just..."

"No. Zere is alvays more. Alvays. Angel, zomething is bozering you, zomething much deeper zan your love for Jeffy, no matter how zinsere it vas. Vat is that zomething?"

She licked her lips. How could he be so blasted observant?! Normally F�nix wouldn't notice anything unless it hit him on the head, and only then if it fit with one of his conspiracy theories.

"Angel, tell ve about your mother."

Her lower lip started quivering. Not that. Anything but that. Her mother was glorious, a true angel, filled with love and kindness. But no matter what, the drunken image of her stepfather clung to her, oozing filth. She couldn't go through that again. Not again.

"Angel, you must tell ve."

No she didn't. There was no way she could tell that. No way.

Yet she found her lips moving, spilling out the story, her story. Slowly at first, then gradually faster as the words rushed out of her, pushing past each other to get out, to be let out, to be free. How she had loved her mother more than anything, how she had made life bearable when Daddy got drunk, and how she had left her alone...just like Jeffy.

Slowly the room faded from view. She was back, living her life through again, all the mistakes, the pains, the joys and the sorrows. It came out, a flood of emotion, the torrent of her life rushing past her. She did not stop it, could not stop it, did not want to stop it, no matter the pain, because, somehow, someway, she felt another emotion threading its way through her heart: relief.

"Are your men ready?"

Faraday looked up from his clipboard. "Almost sir. Another five minutes will have all the equipment distributed." Faraday was a competent man, but then again, so was everyone in Code-G. Those who were not did not survive. Ethin wondered if the man ever aspired to more than troop coordinator. There had to be the least bit of ambition behind those brown eyes. But they showed nothing but business. And impatience to be on with his duties.

Ethin nodded. "Excellent. Tell me when you are ready."

Faraday nodded then went back to his clipboard, checking and rechecking items. Yes, he was competent, all right. Ethin wandered off and watched the marines load up. They scuttled around in their pitch-colored combat gear, like so many black ants. Picking up crates here, putting them in black vans there, everywhere scurrying about. The large concrete garage echoed with the sounds of activity.

He had no real purpose now. Everything was up to the squad leaders, and how well they followed their orders. When they got into the field, all of their lives would be staked on how well Ethin had planned things out. He shrugged off the sense of foreboding that threatened his thoughts. This one would work. It had to.

Three full squads of Code-G's best marines had been pulled for this operation. Stealth would be hard, if not impossible, but it would be worth it if WAD-R was destroyed. It could always be played as a gang war, or the Mafia, or even a movie shoot.

Someone coughed behind him. He turned slowly, taking care to make himself look composed. "Yes?"

The officer nodded at him. "Team Beta is ready to go on your mark. Undercover agents report that everything is in position and ready for us to move in."

Ah yes, Team Beta. The first contingency plan. "Good. Tell them to move out. But make sure they keep absolute stealth. We can't afford anyone to see them."

The officer nodded and turned away. Ethin thought he had seen a small bit of dislike in his face, just before he turned. Probably upset about the stealth order. Yes, that was a standing rule, but it had to be doubly emphasized on the Beta mission.

He watched as Beta's van closed up and sped out of the garage. The three crack marines should easily be able to take care of what scant resistance, if any, they would meet.

He looked over the three other black vans being loaded up. He was using an awefully big hammer for this job, but it would crack WAD-R right open.

Faraday tapped him on the shoulder. "Aren't you going to suit up, sir?"

Ethin turned around, confused. "Suit up?"

"Yes. We have orders here straight from the top that you are to accompany the squads on this mission to provide immediate tactical reassessment, instead of a linkup."

So El meant for him to get down into the trenches. He could always refuse, claiming that there had been a mix-up. A chill ran down his spine when he thought of that. No, that would not be the path to take. Far too much was riding on this. Far, far too much.

Three minutes later, Ethin climbed into the lead black van, fully decked out in black combat gear. He got into a seat and spoke to the communications man. "Tell the others to head out."

The man nodded and began speaking into his microphone, too low for Ethin to hear. He felt the van start up, then accelerate. This was it. No going back. Not that that had ever really been an option, anyway.

Sender paused on the stairway, looking at one of the holes they had yet to patch up. Its edges were wavy, seeming to ripple. Looking closer, he saw that the hole was getting slowly smaller. He shivered, and not from the cold breeze leaking through the shrinking hole. Seth must have already put the nanoprobes to work.

It wasn't that he distrusted Seth, it was just that...well...so he did distrust Seth. Spending 300 years as one of mankind's enemies from two separate Star Trek series weighed heavily on how far he could be trusted. The Klingon training was enough to discourage any comments on it, though; Seth had some pretty impressive "ceremonial" weapons up in his room.

Shivering again, Sender continued down the stairs, his footfalls echoing around him. He stopped once to pull a wedge of aluminum foil out of a hole that was trying to close. He wadded it up and looked for a trash can. Not one to be seen. He made a mental note to stick that on next week's shopping list. He stuck the wad in his jacket pocket. There would be plenty of trash cans later.

He glanced at his watch. 6:50, time to pick up Akari. Garr is going to skewer me if he gets the wrong impression about this. This is definitely not a date. Just repaying her for actually doing stuff to repair the HQ. He looked at the walls again. Stuff that won't try to assimilate us, anyway.

He reached the ground floor and swung around to the bathroom to check himself in the mirror. He smoothed his hair down, then drew his shades from his pocket. That time at the gas station had been enough for him to never forget those again.

Getting ready for your date with Akari?

Sender sighed. "Jeff, it is not a date."

Suuure it isn't. And the reason you didn't ask anyone else to the movie is...?"

Sender banged his head on the wall, muttering some choice words about nosy ghosts.

Hey, is it my fault Akari can't tell when someone's watching as she writes in her diary?

Sender stopped hitting his head against the stone and turned around. "You read her diary? Isn't that a bit...unethical?"

Hey, there was some pretty interesting stuff in there. Especially about Garr. And I didn't exactly have much else to do. After last night, I was exhausted. Not even enough energy to talk most of the day.

"Last night? What about last night?"

Nothing. Anyway, shouldn't you be going? Don't want to be late for your first date.

"It's not a date!" Sender yelled as he ran out the door.

Five minutes later his restored Jeep pulled up in front of Akari's apartment. He checked his watch. 6:59. Perfect. He opened the glove compartment and grabbed a mint. After setting the alarm (this was New York, after all), he stepped out into the night.

His breath made small clouds in the air. He shivered slightly and pulled his jacket a bit closer. Thank goodness he'd made sure the heating system in the Jeep was in perfect working order. Humming softly to himself, he walked up the two flights of stairs to Akari's flat, avoiding the small ice patched that had not been salted yet.

"Let's see...number 307...here we are." He walked over to the door. The door was open a crack; she must have just gotten in from her errands. He grabbed the knob and raised his hand to knock.

He paused. He thought he had heard...yes! She was in there talking with someone, a man by the sound of it. And he sounded pretty angry. If Garr had come back early, he was dead meat. Straining his ears, he was just able to make out the conversation.

"I...I'm telling you I don't know where he is! Somewhere in Europe, but he..."

Slap! "I don't have time for this, girl. He came in here, he never went out. Now where is he?"

"I really don't know, I..."

Sender had heard enough. No two-bit drug-dealer was going to hurt Akari while he was around. He stepped back from the door and drew his desert eagle. Drug dealers talked plenty tough, until you showed them some hot lead, anyway. Praying that the gene splicers had known what they were doing, he rammed the door open.

He heard a shout from one of the people in there. He saw at least three people before dropping into a roll. Coming up, he hastily aimed his gun at one of the black-clad men and fired, raking bullets across his torso and the man next to him. A bullet grazed his bad shoulder, lancing it though with white-hot pain. He ignored it; there would be time to hurt later.

He spun around, looking for anyone else, and stopped dead.

A man stood against the wall, holding his assault rifle against Akari's chin. How the heck did a drug dealer get ahold of an assault rifle? The man's arm wrapped around her chest, using her as a human shield.

"If you move, she will die."

The way he said it, deadpan and obviously caring very little what he did, sent chills through Sender's spine. He slowly lowered his gun to point at the floor. His muscles knotted tight, waiting for a break to bring it back up and fire.

The man nodded, but did not relax in the slightest. Sender finally got a good look at him.

He was dressed all in black. A small patch stood out over his heart. Sender only saw half of it, but he recognized the symbol: a stylized green G. Sender's heart sank. If these were Code-G marines, they probably had kevlar vests underneath the black shirts. He had to act quickly, or else this man's companions would wake up.

"What are you doing here?" Sender demanded.

"I could ask the same of you. But no matter. Two hostages are better than one."

Hostages? This was getting worse all the time. At least they had no plans to kill them. Yet. He had to act quickly. Bracing himself, he shifted his weight slightly. The man lowered his rifle, preparing to kill him should he charge. That was all Sender needed.

Jumping to the side, he drew his laser pointer with his left hand and fired, running its beam across the man's right side. His arm convulsed at its touch, drawing the assault rifle down and firing it in the process. Bullets tore into Akari's shoulder, sending little shreds of flesh into the air. She screamed in pain, then passed out, slumping to the floor.

Sender only vaguely noticed her fall as he ran at the Code-G operative. He swung the butt of his eagle around and slammed it into the man's head. A sharp crack echoed through the apartment. He fell to the ground, wounded or dead Sender did not know, nor did he care just then.

Turning from him, Sender saw the blood gushing from Akari's shoulder. He cursed leaving the pointer on low power. At high the fusion cell would have just cut through the arm, not letting the nerves fire. He wasted no time on regrets, though, and made a tourniquet from the marine's shirt. The blood flow slowed to a small ooze. Hoping he was doing more good than harm he lifted her in his arms and carried her out the door. He ran as fast as he was able down to his Jeep, figuring it better to get her away wounded than get caught.

He threw open the passenger door and laid Akari in the seat as gently as possible. She looked deathly pale. Running around, he jumped in the driver's seat and started the car, then slammed on the gas. Cars swerved out of his way as he sped into traffic, heading for the nearest county hospital.

A crack echoed over the plain. Jeffy jerked in her grasp, then went limp. She pulled away from him and saw a look of shock on his face, as he slumped to the ground, blood oozing from a hole in his chest, staining his shirt a dark red.

The thunder rolled overheard, seeming to call her name. "Angel." it roared. "Angel!"

Angel sat bolt upright. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and sweat covered her body.

"Angel!" She heard Fenrir pounding on the door.

"What?" she yelled. She shivered, and not from cold. Not the dream again.

"Angel, get out here! We're under attack again. It's just us four holding the fort."

She jumped out of bed and pushed all thoughts of her dream out of her mind. More important things were going on now. She dressed herself in record time and ran out of her room, looking around and listening. She heard gunshots ricocheting away from the stone. Turning, she saw deep gouges in her door. Fenrir's claws had done quite a number on it. Yet another thing they would have to fix.

She was jolted back to reality when the front door splintered. It bulged to one side where a large shell had hit it. A few more inches and it would have gone through, hitting her. She ran to the weapons rack and grabbed a gun, then headed upstairs for a height advantage.

She stopped on the second floor next to F�nix. He stood at an ancient arrow-slit, shooting a semi-automatic out of it.

"What happened?" She asked, taking up position at the slit next to his.

"The Code-G zombies started attacking five minutes ago. Fenrir went to get you, then was beamed to the Overlord to bring in more troops. I'm here slaying unholy undead, Sender and Akari are on a date, and I last saw Seth heading up to his room, probably trying to assimilate the planet or something."

At least there was more relevant information in that than normal. She looked out into the night, searching for a target. The marine's black clothing made them effectively invisible, but the shots from their weapons gave them away like small flares.

Taking careful aim, she fired. One of the flares stopped. She aimed at another and fired. Another. Just before she pulled the trigger, she felt F�nix slam into her. Her breath rushed from her lungs as she hit the ground.

"F�nix, why on Earth did..." She stopped short as flames shot through the arrow slits they had been using as cover. Chunks of hot stone flew over their heads. When the flames subsided, F�nix got off of her and crawled over to the hole where the slits had been. The blast had knocked out the lights, but she was able to see that the back of his shirt had burned through. His undershirt seemed fine, though. Wait...so that was what that package from the asbestos company was. He looked out of the ragged hole, careful to keep as much out of sight as possible.

"That was a Mark III Arrow Demolition Bolt. Very powerful, and very hard to get. I'm surprised Code-G even was able to get ahold of them."

"How do you know this?"

"I've got two of them. The detonators aren't due for another week, though, so we can't fire them back. At least it'll take them several minutes to reload the suckers."

Great. So they would have a little longer before being blown to bits. Suddenly she realized something. The small explosions and ricochets seemed further away. "What's happening. Did someone come up from behind them?"

"No. The fascist dogs are concentrating their fire. Probably think they took us out with that last blast." A shudder rocked the castle, jarring her teeth together. "This is not good. At this rate they'll have the whole wall down in a few minutes."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Just get in position, and pray."

She and F�nix slipped away from the hole, then ran downstairs. She prayed silently the whole way.

Sharon pressed a few more buttons on her keyboard, logging the latest case into the database. At least that was the last of them. One (and as far as she knew, the only) advantage of the late shift was that cases were few and far between. She should have plenty of time to catch up on her work tonight.

The door slammed open just as she closed the file. Speak of the devil. She looked up, expecting to see the typical sprained ankle or other such "dire emergency" people brought in. What she saw was a young man, carrying a young woman in his arms. Blood covered the front of his jacket, and she looked deathly pale.

Sharon slammed her hand down on the intercom. "We've got a case. Get a trauma team down here, stat!"

She didn't wait for the reply, but jumped out of her chair and ran around the desk. She tipped over some desk ornaments on her way, but did not notice as they scattered. Running up to the young man, she helped him lower the woman to the floor. Sharon nearly gagged at the sight of her shoulder. Most of it was covered by a crude bandage, but the part that was not was horrible. Shredded tissue and bone stuck out of the skin. She suppressed the urge to retch.

"What happened?" The boy looked up. She started as she realized he really was just a boy, not more than twenty. How did he get into something like this? And the girl looked even younger than he.

"We...we were in a fight. She took...took a lot of bullets to the shoulder. I got her here as fast as I could."

Sharon sighed, part with relief, part with sorrow. At least there was very little chance her spine had been injured. She slowly shook her head as she looked down at the girl. Things were getting out of control around here. It seemed as if every week someone like this was brought in, victim of a drive-by or gang war.

The doors behind her slammed open, and she heard the trauma team's footsteps. The moved her and the boy away from the girl while they placed a stretcher down. She grabbed onto the boy's shoulder and led him away as they placed the girl on it, then lifted her onto the bed and wheeled her out. There was nothing more she could do, so she walked back around the desk, straightening the fallen decorations.

With practiced ease she logged into the database and entered what she could about the patient. After filling in those fields, she looked up at the boy.

He was standing where she had left him, staring morosely at the white doors as they swung on their hinges. "Excuse me, sir?" He looked at her. Now why on earth was he wearing sunglasses at this time of night? "I need to get some information from you before they can start."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Typical shock reaction: nothing matters. She'd have to get his mind away from the girl, if nothing else by giving him a lot to do. "Okay, now I need the girl's name, age, and any conditions or allergies we should know about."

"Akari Shimazu, sixteen years old. Nothing I know of with her. Wait, she's pregnant. Only a few months along."

"I see." At that age? She tried to hide her disapproval. "Are you the father?"

He turned sharply to her. "Wha...father? Oh no, no. I'm just a friend. The father is out of town right now. He's due back in a few days."

"Okay." He seemed honest enough, but then again he probably wouldn't want to admit to getting the girl, Akari was it?, pregnant. Kids these days...

"What about relatives? Guardians?"

"None living. Her parents...died...when she was little."

That explained part of it. Kids with nowhere else to go always seemed to end up there the most. Something didn't sound right about what he said, but she was only in charge of entering everything. She put her everything-is-going-to-be-all-right smile on her face. "Don't worry, she'll be fine. We have some of the best doctors in the county here. Now, if you'll please fill this out..." She handed him the standard form and a pen. Hopefully it would take his mind off of the girl for a while. Maybe even let him forget.

Seth looked at his monitor. A schematic of the castle, relayed by the nanoprobes that now saturated its stone, stood out in mock-3D. Most of the picture was still green, but the front part was largely yellow, with some red and black areas. The north tower was largely orange-red, and growing darker by the second. It would not last long under the concentrated barrage.

He turned from the monitor, the dim light glinting off of his Borg implants. The Fire burned within him, driving him to battle. He laughed at the puny ka'rok humans. They would stand no chance once he began fighting. He must have patience, though. A fool fought when the enemy had the upper hand. A warrior chose his battles wisely, and made the enemy come to him.

Seth walked over to the far wall. His eye went over the gleaming metal and wood of his Klingon weaponry. He ran his finger along a ceremonial dagger, and then a ritual painstick. Finally, he stroked the bat'leth Cho'kar had given him just before the Battle the Bloody Plains, where the ground had run purple. He lowered his head against the weapon.

"Mi chak, Cho'kar. Sto'va'Kor var ri'jaak. Mi chak, Cho'kar."

The ancient prayer for the fallen sent fire through his veins. He drew the bat'leth from it mount and hefted it, testing the balance. It flowed as if it were a part of him, just like the old days.

He swung, slicing the cold steel through the air. It whistled as he continued the swipe, ripping the flesh from his imaginary foe. He pivoted on the balls of his feet and reversed the move, breaking the enemy's neck.

He moved on, slicing through the battlefield like a whirlwind. None of the other warriors could match him for ability. Finally, he saw his foe. In one fluid motion he brought the bat'leth around, burying it in Kal'roth's chest.

The ground rumbled underfoot. He looked up. He was in the castle. Not on Qo'nos. He looked around, getting his bearings. The castle rumbled again. Suddenly the air was torn by a tremendous crash. Looking over at his desk, he saw the entire north tower flare red, then go black. That would be his battleground.

"It is a good day to die..." Seth ran out of his room, the fires of battle burning in his veins.

Ethin watched as the castle's right tower separated from the main body and tumbled to the earth. Shattered stone and masonry filled the air, obscuring everything in a cloud of dust. The roar nearly deafened him. He smiled as the dust settled, revealing a forty-foot gap in the defenses. Stones tumbled from the edges of the rift, toppling down into the ground.

"Johnson, move in. We don't want them to set up a defensive position."

Johnson nodded and motioned to the nine people under his command. They loaded their guns, grabbed extra ammo, and headed in. They moved in a zigzag pattern, trying to avoid as many shots as they could. For some reason, though, no one was shooting at them. All the more reason to be wary of an ambush.

Ethin watched them crawl nearer. He could feel victory within his grasp. Suddenly the ground exploded in front of a pair of marines. A huge brown...thing reared up in front of them, swinging its scythe-like claws around. The two marines fell to it quickly, probably a mercy for them. Their companions wasted no time brining their rifles to bear. The bullets glanced off the thing's hide like it was solid steel. They were doing something, though, since it roared and disappeared back underground.

Ethin suddenly realized he was not breathing. He forced air into his lungs, and used the short time to figure out what had happened.

That must have been Fenrir, one of WAD-R's more unusual members. A "zerg" is what the files called him. A sample of his DNA would be invaluable.

"Simms, get that creature. And Simms," he added as more troops headed off, "not necessarily in one piece."

"Yes sir!" Simms yelled.

Ethin smiled. That...zerg...would not get the best of them twice. He turned as a communications man tapped his elbow. The man handed him a headset. He put it on and flipped the receive button.

"Yes...I see..." Ethin frowned. This was not good news. "Well, then, track them...No, I'll oversee it personally...Henderson...I'll be seeing you soon."

Ethin turned off the headset and turned to face his last field commander. "Henderson, something's come up. You're in charge. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yes, sir."

Ethin gave the headset back to the comm guy. He pointed at two marines. "You and you, come with me."

The marines grabbed some extra ammo and followed Ethin over to one of the vans.

F�nix squinted against the cold air. Vague shapes moved beyond the ragged hole where the north tower had been. They looked like they were struggling to get over the fallen stone. Serves them right for making the mess. He sank down lower behind the table he was using as a barrier. It wouldn't do to get killed before taking some of them with him. Especially since he was worth at least five of those mindless clones.

He glanced to his left. Angel was nowhere to be seen. Good. At least they wouldn't be taken out with one volley. He looked down at his cache of weaponry. Not much, just a few more clips for his semi-automatic and a handful of grenades. Those he would save; they were incredibly hard to get. He fingered the small black box in his pocket. He still had a few tricks left for the Code-G pseudo-marines. Not even gene-enhanced super soldiers could stand up to a proper explosion.

He spun around. He could have sworn something had moved behind him. Dark silence filled the castle hallways. He must have been imagining things. Again. They always came at the worst possible times. Unless it had been a cloaked space vampire out to get him. But he doubted that. The space vampires weren't due back until next week.

Ignoring whatever he had seen, he focused on the approaching marines. They were almost at the entrance, now. Just a few more meters and he'd have a perfect ambush set up. Just a few more meters...

The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire pierced the silence. The invisible bullets tore a chair to shreds, taking his hat with it. F�nix lowered his head momentarily for that hat. It had served him well, but the bright aluminum was too much of a giveaway in the darkness.

The marines were almost within his trap. He hefted his rifle, aiming carefully at the furthest person. Suddenly a shadow detached itself from the wall and ran headlong at the marines.

"Pa'ring k'var! No cha va'kin, Sto'va'kor!"

It took F�nix a second to recognize Seth. He had never seen anyone move that fast. He seemed a blur among the marines, swinging his bat'leth around as if it were a part of him. The bullets just bounced off some green shield he had, not slowing him in the least.

There was no way in Hades F�nix would use the grenades now and risk killing Seth. He had to admire Seth's fighting style, even if he was a space communist. He had already taken down four or five people. At this rate they might be finished before F�nix could finish this clip. F�nix aimed again, trying to keep a marine in his sights long enough to fire. He heard Angel firing from across the room.

The marines were retreating. Seth was taking hits from outside as well, now that they could see him. The added green flares from his shield giving an eerie light to the room. F�nix hoped Seth knew how much it could take. It looked close to giving out now. He shifted his weight to get a better position on the scattering marines. The charred edge of his shirt rubbed against his arm. His shirt. The Arrow!

"Seth! Get back here now!"

Seth turned slightly, just as a white streak raced through the gap in the castle wall. It hit him dead on, billowing into crimson flame.

Sender sat down in one of the hospital's supremely uncomfortable chairs. You would think that, in a place where life and death were dealt with on a daily basis, they would at least spring for some comfortable seats. Maybe it was supposed to get your mind off whoever you were visiting.

He pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on Akari, sleeping on the hospital bed in front of him. She looked very peaceful, and she had a slight smile on her face. He hoped she was dreaming of better times. Her paper-white skin was nearly translucent with the loss of blood. The doctors said she would recover in a few weeks, as long as she didn't exert herself.

He looked again at the heavy bandage/cast covering her left shoulder. The bullets had shredded her muscles and shattered her collarbone, along with chipping her shoulder blade. That would take much longer to heal than the blood loss. She was out of commission for the next few weeks.

And it was all his fault. If he had been just a little quicker, or waited a bit more before barging in, he could have saved her. The marines obviously wanted her alive. If he had waited until they came out she might still be walking around, laughing at this latest escapade.

It didn't help that no one at HQ answered the phone. Where could everyone have gotten to? It wasn't as if they would be out searching for them; they weren't due back for another hour still.

Akari coughed. He looked up to find her awake. Her eyes were still defocused. At least the painkillers in her system were still active. She would not go into shock anytime soon. He hoped.

"Wh...where am I?" He took her hand and leaned close to hear her better.

"You're in the county hospital." he whispered. "Your shoulder got torn up pretty bad. The doctors say you'll be okay in a few weeks."

She giggled, then coughed. "Not much of a first date, was it?"

He smiled and shook his head. "It wasn't a date."

She smiled back. "Like heck it wasn't. Sender, I know you too well for that. Besides, when you're not wearing those shades, your eyes give away everything."

Blast that female intuition!

"Look, Sender, I think you're sweet and all, but I'm in love with Garr. And I'm not going to let him kill you because of jealousy."

She smiled. He sighed. Better now than a week from now, he supposed. He shook his head and smirked. "I didn't have a chance, did I?"

"Sorry."

The sheer incredulity of the situation hit him then. Here he was, leaning over a friend who half an hour ago was in danger of dying, and they were breaking up. He threw back his head and laughed at that, until the pain in his own shoulder forced him to stop.

He heard the door creak open behind him. One of the orderlies must have heard him and come to check up. Suddenly Akari's hand stiffened in his.

"How touching. Looks like we came just in time."

Sender swung around, already drawing his laser.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, boy." Sender saw the two men flanking him, each holding a silenced handgun. One aimed at him, the other at Akari. The door was closed. No one would see them.

"Who are you?"

"Tsk tsk. No names from Code-G. Now, we really must be going, so if you'll just stand up please..."

Sender hesitated, then stood up, putting his laser away. Two more men in black stepped into the room, drawing their guns as soon as the door closed. One frisked Sender, removing his eagle and laser, along with his shades. The man started at Sender's eyes, but then continued on with the search.

As they searched Akari (why?), Sender kept trying to figure out how they planned on getting two people, one of them obviously very ill, out of the hospital with no one noticing.

He got his answer when a sixth man came in, rolling a wheelchair before him. They took Akari, who struggled as best as she could, and put her in it, then wrapped a blanket around her.

"You," said one of them, motioning at Sender, "push the chair out. Don't try any funny business, or you won't live to regret it."

Like he could do much unarmed against six of them. "Can I at least have my shades back?"

The man in charge nodded. Sender slipped them back over his head, desperately wishing this was some James Bond movie where the glasses had miniature lasers or something. No such luck, so he grabbed onto the back of Akari's chair and psuhed it out. The Code-G people put their guns away and followed him, forming a sort of honor guard.

Once outside they opened up a black van and motioned for him to get in. Things were just going from bad to worse.

"Seth!"

F�nix braced himself as the blast threw him and the table into a wall. As his body ached from being slammed between wood and stone, his mind reeled from what he had just seen. Consciously, Seth had been the "radioactive space communist bent on world domination" that lived downstairs. But in a place far deeper, far older than consciousness, F�nix had given Seth a very different label: "friend."

He blinked to clear the spots swimming in front of his eyes, then reached down for a grenade. He twisted the top, setting it for ten seconds, then pulled the pin and rolled it to the far side of the room. That should give him enough time. He stumbled to his feet, feeling pain shoot through his left leg. It must have hit the wall at a bad angle. He lurched over to where he had left Angel. She was slumped against the wall, unconscious. Blood trickled from a cut in her forehead.

Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, dragging her to the other side of the wall. He heard the grenade go off just as they got out of the room. Thank goodness for adjustable detonation times.

Checking his memory, he determined that they would need to be further away than this. The thick walls should protect them, but there was a big difference between should and would. He dragged Angel to the other side of the staircase. That should be enough. After lowering her on the ground as carefully as he could, he limped back around and positioned himself just to the side of the room entrance, back against the wall.

He looked into the room. The marines weren't there yet. Hopefully they thought the grenade was just something dropped from his dead hand. He saw some movement against the wall. Seth couldn't have survived that. He couldn't have. F�nix risked leaning in a little further, then wished he hadn't. Some of the servos on Seth's arm twitched, accenting the fact that the arm wasn't attached to anything else.

F�nix gritted his teeth and forced himself to watch the ragged tear in the wall. They should be coming through any minute now.

The seconds relentlessly ticked by. F�nix saw a bit of motion at the gaping hole and pressed himself flat against the wall, listening for footsteps. One...two...three people. No voices. These guys were trained well. He heard stone crunching, coming closer to him. He felt inside his pocket for the box. Just a little more...a little more...

He pressed a button and dived for the ground.

A wall of flame shot out of the room's entrance. F�nix felt a wave of heat wash over him. The smell of burnt fuel and flesh lay thick in the air. After the heat subsided he lurched to his feet, wincing at the pain. He added second-degree burns to his mental list of injuries he'd have to fix.

He stumbled over to Angel, who was just waking up. He leaned down and brushed her hair out of her face, then daubed up as much blood as he could.

"Time to wake up, Angel. We're not out of this yet."

Fenrir slithered up the final flight of stairs. That burrowing trick would only work once, but it worked well. And they'd never think of looking for him on the roof. He was from a Real Time Strategy game, after all, and had a rudimentary feel for tactics. Of course, the mere mortals in WAD-R would never believe that. Like it was his fault the computer kept sabotaging his games.

Fenrir grunted. It had been hard going until the back half of his tail had regenerated. Stupid marines and their stupid explosives.

He swung open the door to the roof and slithered out. Surprisingly, F�nix and Angel were up there too, holding guns up against the wall. At least they had weaponry. Not that their guns had anything to compare with his explosive needle spines, but it would help distract the marines.

He looked around. "Hey, where's Seth? Still checking out his modifications?"

"He...didn't make it." Angel lowered her head., and F�nix grabbed his rifle, making his knuckles turn white.

"Oh." There wasn't much more he could say. He had never been too close to Seth. He slithered over to the wall, trying to keep as low a profile as a thirteen-foot alien could.

Strange. The Code-G marines had backed off. They weren't even firing anymore. Maybe they had finally decided to worship him like good little mortals. He said as much. F�nix laughed at him. Oh, he would show them some day. He would show them all!

Another van pulled up. Just great, more reinforcements. If only there were a vespene geyser and some minerals around here somewhere, he could cause some real havoc.

The van opened up and its occupants climbed out. Several men in black jumped down and took up defensive positions. Fenrir looked at the other marines, trying to spot someone in range. Stupid marines, not even close enough to let him kill them.

Angel gasped. "Oh my...they've got Sender and Akari!"

Fenrir swung his head up. Two marines were holding Sender, who had his hands handcuffed behind him. Another two held Akari. It almost looked as if they were the only things keeping her on her feet. One of the men picked up a megaphone and pointed it at them.

"WAD-R, this is going to be your only chance. If you come out and surrender peacefully, we will let you live. If not, you die. Beginning with these two." He motioned towards Sender and Akari with his gun. "You have one minute to decide."

That's him! Of all the...if I could just get my hands on him...

"What?" Fenrir had grown accustomed to Jeff's disembodied voice quicker than the others, and it was easier for him to talk to it. An advantage of listening to the Overmind blather on for all those months.

That's the guy who shot me! How dare he threaten my friends...

"You can't exactly do too much about it. You're stuck here, and he's out there." He could have sworn he heard Jeff sigh. Well, that's part of being a ghost. You got stuck wherever you had emotional attachment. Fenrir turned to Angel and rumbled. "So what do we do?"

"The only thing we can." Her voice sounded like lead. F�nix lowered his head.

Sender cringed as the two goons dug deeper into his arms. Like he could do anything with handcuffs on.

"Twenty seconds."

Sender closed his eyes. He felt the cold steel of a gun barrel press against his neck. His face was bathed in sweat. His breath rattled in his chest as he gasped for more air. He breathed faster while trying to pull away from the gun. The marine held it tight against him.

"Ten seconds."

The gun cocked. Sender felt light headed. He suddenly realized he was hyperventilating. He forced his breathing to slow. He would not die panicked.

"Ah...looks like your friends finally came to their senses."

The gun left his neck. Sender opened his eyes in time to see a burned piece of white fabric flutter to the ground outside the HQ. That little piece of fabric held so much. His life, but at what cost? His vision swam. He concentrated on breathing deep, regular breaths.

The man raised the megaphone to his mouth. "Come out with your hands on your heads. And don't try anything funny." He motioned for a few marines to run up to the castle. They zigzagged around the ground as if they expected to be shot at. Perhaps they would be, but Sender doubted it.

The massive wooden door cracked open. Angel, F�nix, and Fenrir limped out. Fenrir looked fine, and Angel seemed okay, but F�nix looked pretty beat up. Even from here Sender could see defeat in the way they walked. The marines went over to them and forced Angel and F�nix to their knees. Their hands were taken and handcuffed behind their backs. The marines had more trouble with Fenrir's claws. They used some sort of steel cable for him. But where was Seth? Maybe there was still a way out of this.

When the marines finished binding them, the head man nodded to the others. Sender was pushed forward. He staggered and almost fell, but the marines dragged him back to his feet. Akari was just lifted along; she was in no condition to walk. At least they had let her keep the blanket.

They crossed the fifty yards to the others in silence. Sender did not have to look to know that the head man was smiling. He could feel his satisfaction from here. They stopped ten feet in front of his friends. The other marines encircled all of them, guns inward. Any heroics now would just get them all killed.

The head guy stepped forward. "I see we're almost all here. Two are missing, though. Where are Garr Aileron and Seth?"

F�nix lifted his head slightly. Sender had never seen defeat in those eyes before, and he did not now. Just a cold, burning rage that seemed to fill them. Sender saw the chief flinch when F�nix looked at him. "Garr is in Europe, and Seth..." F�nix took a deep breath. Sender had only thought F�nix was angry before. That glare was enough to melt steel. F�nix's muscles knotted against his jaw. Sender looked over and saw Angel crying. Fenrir growled deep in his throat. Several of the marines trained their rifles on him. He quieted down. Suddenly it hit Sender what all that meant.

"Seth...he's...?" One of the guards elbowed him in the ribs, but not before he saw Angel nod. "No!" his vision went red. He struggled against the marines, trying to get free. "Nooo!" Rage blinded his eyes. He saw nothing but the marines that had murdered his friend. In the corner of his eyes he saw the head man raise his gun. There was a crack, and his chest exploded in pain. Everything went black.

Angel choked back sobs as Sender went limp. The marines dropped him, then raised their rifles and pointed them at her and Fenrir.

"Such a pity. At least he could have said goodbye."

She watched that man, that cold-blooded killer, standing not ten feet away from her. Smoke still rose from his gun as he turned to her. He cocked it again and looked right at her face.

"You will join him soon, you know."

So his promise had been empty. All hope drained from her body. She just sat there numbly, not caring what this man did to her. The cold wind blew her hair out. He slowly raised the gun and pointed it at her. At least she would be with Jeffy soon...

He fired.

Time stretched out. She saw the plume of smoke from the gun, saw the bullet leave the barrel, infinitesimally slow. It came at her, slower than molasses. Time seemed suspended, as if she could live a whole lifetime in the next few seconds. So this is what happens when you're about to die she mused.

The gray bullet came ever nearer. It was halfway to her now. Only a fraction of a second left, an eternity.

Suddenly a flare of blue came from the bullet. Then another of bright cyan. They streaked off of it like flames. Of all things she was reminded of a video she saw once of an Apollo re-entry. The bluish flames licked the bullet hungrily, growing brighter, incredibly bright. She tried to shut her eyes against it, but couldn't. The blue flames flared to white, now. Bright as the sun, brighter even.

They stopped. It stopped. The bullet hung there, suspended two inches from her eyes, then fell softly to the ground. She looked up and saw everything moving at normal speed again. That man was cursing and yelling, more in shock than in anger. The marines just looked confused. What the heck had just happened?

Suddenly another blue glow started forming between her and the marines. The whirlpool held the same blue and cyan colors from earlier. It was strangely beatiful, in the way a tornado or hurricane can be beautiful. The marines trained every rifle on it, whatever it was.

As she watched it grew brighter, just as it had before. It also started getting smaller, pulling into itself and getting even more bright. She stared at it until it grew too bright to look at. Ducking her head, she still saw some light leaking in through her eyelids.

A strong wind tugged at her hair. It picked up, growing faster and louder until she could hardly hear a thing. It swirled around her like a storm, and she was the eye. Suddenly she heard a voice, screaming defiance over the gale. She gasped.

I LOVE YOU, ANGEL!

And then the world exploded.

The first thing Sender noticed was that he was alive. The cold ground beneath him, the soft wind on his face, everything was so wonderful. The sheer joy of being alive swept over him, until he noticed the second thing. Pain.

He groaned as he rolled onto his stomach. Which was another mistake. Fire filled his chest, right by his heart. Trying to ignore it as best he could, he pushed himself to his hands and knees, gasping for air. Each breath was a wave of pain. His arms shook, threatening to drop him. He forced them to steady and hold his weight. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked around.

The first thing he saw was his hands. The chain joining his handcuffs together had been broken. It almost looked melted, somehow. He slowly raised his head, fighting spots in his vision. He saw everyone else. They all lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious or dead he couldn't tell. But what took his breath away was what surrounded them. For twenty feet in all directions the snow was gone, melted away to reveal the ground underneath. The grass had been scorched. In some places it lay blackened, in others it had just been reduced to ash. Sender gagged as he realized the blackened areas looked all too similar to human shadows.

Sender crawled over to Akari, ignoring the fires in his chest as best as he could. He reached over and felt her neck, searching for a pulse. There. It was weak, but steady. He'd have to get her inside quickly, though. That hospital gown was no help against the cold.

He reached his hands around her, forcing his numb fingers to grab around her waist. He tried to lift her and nearly fainted from the pain. He would have to get someone else to help. If anyone else was still alive. Breathing slowly, he crawled over to Angel, relieved to see her and the others' chests moving rhythmically up and down.

"Angel." He reached out and shook her gently. "Angel."

"Jeffy?" She opened her eyes. "S...Sender? I...I thought I heard Jeffy. But how...he shot you...I..." Tears filled her eyes as she smiled. She pushed herself up and grabbed him around the chest, hugging him fiercely.

"Augh! Not the chest! Not the chest!" she eased up, letting him breath normally again. More spots were swimming in his vision. Great. She blushed.

"Sorry. I didn't know. Hey, what's this?"

She took his jacket and turned it out, feeling for something. She dug into his inside pocket and pulled out a small lump of metal. It was the foil from the castle wall. He had never gotten around to throwing it away. A small, round hole went most of the way through it, stopping just millimeters from the other side. Sender stared at it, then chuckled. He grimaced at the pain.

"I can't believe it. Saved by a wad of F�nix's foil. Who'd've thought." He shook his head. "You in any condition to help carry Akari? We've got to get her inside."

"Only one way to find out."

She pushed herself up, gingerly testing her legs. When she didn't fall, she offered Sender a hand. He gratefully took it, and pulled himself up, grunting. Angel frowned. He shook his head. "I'll be fine. Probably just a couple of cracked ribs."

He turned and started towards Akari's limp form.

"Sender?" He stopped. "What happened here?" He turned around and saw Angel looking at the ground around them. What had caused that?

Suddenly something clicked in his mind. Something she had said. I thought I heard Jeffy...

"I don't know. But right now we..." He froze. That man, the head guy, was thirty feet away on the ground, trying to struggle to his feet. He had fallen face-first, as if he were running away when he got knocked down.

Cold determination filled Sender. He looked around for a gun, but found only a few scraps of twisted metal. He looked back at the man. He had gotten to his feet and stared numbly at Sender and the ground around him. He shook his head slowly back and forth, then turned and trudged away. Sender tried to run after him, but dropped to his knees after only a few steps.

"Sender?" He turned around. "Let him go. He's beaten."

Sender glared at the man's back as he got into one of the black vans and drove off. Anger seethed within him, but he finally shook his head and turned to look at Akari. There was much work yet to do.

Sender leaned against the window, cradling the hot chocolate in his hand. It was getting close to Christmas, and there was something about chocolate that had more seasonal appeal than coffee (not to mention it tasted better). The snow that had started earlier was still going strong. Small, delicate flakes drifted from the gray sky, covering up the ground in a thin layer of white. Little drops of water formed where they hit the window.

F�nix was out there still, hobbling around on a crutch, taking notes, and snapping photos. He kept claiming that they had been abducted by aliens from Xii'garon, so he was gathering evidence. Given what had happened, Sender thought it was as good an excuse as any.

Sender stared at the blackened ground, now dusted over with white. Come spring, it would be a reminder of everything they'd gone through, the cost of being what they were. But until then, they could comfortably forget it, letting time swallow it up in its paths.

He looked again at the blasted ground. The castle had been strangely quiet last night, even with everything going on. It seemed somehow emptier, as if something were missing. Sender had his private thoughts about why, but he had not told anyone yet, least of all Angel.

He raised his mug in a small toast. "Jeff, if you're out there anywhere, thank you," he whispered.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "Who you talking to?"

"Oh, no one."

He heard Angel sigh. "He still out there?"

Which one? "Yes, he is."

"Probably gone through four rolls of film already." Sender turned his head and saw Angel smiling at the scene outside. She looked at him. "Think we should run the real story, or his version of it," she said, inclining her head to the window.

Sender frowned. "His version. We're bad enough off as it is. The last thing we need is Code-G trying to silence us again. Best let them think us intimidated for a while."

She sighed. "I guess your right. It just doesn't seem fair that they get off so easily."

Sender barked a short laugh. "Easy? Angel, they lost a ton of troops. No, whatever else may have happened, they did not get off easily."

"Neither did we," her voice was filled with pain..

"No. We didn't." There was nothing more to be said. The dull ache above his heart was a constant reminder of that price, and how he had almost paid it too. Most of the pain had faded, thankfully. By next week he should be as good as new. A minor benefit of being a genetic experiment. If only his mind could heal as fast.

They all mourned in their own ways. Fenrir was out in the kitchen, gorging himself on anything remotely edible and watching Babylon 5 reruns. F�nix was outside, absorbed in his work and using one of the oldest forms of grief: denial. Akari...no one had told Akari yet. She was asleep upstairs, still in dire straights from the day before. They would tell her when she was ready, when she had the strength to mourn.

As for he and Angel, they had their own method. He thought of the almost-finished sketch in the main room. A plaque, to be made of polished wood and brass. And the inscription they had spent so long getting just right.

A small part of the clouds parted. In the brief instant before they sealed up again, a shooting star arced through the blue sky beyond. Sender felt a tear slide down his cheek.

"Thirty troops, Ethin. You cost me thirty good men. Have you never heard of a 'strategic retreat?!'"

Ethin did not say a word, but tried to meet the steel eyes across the desk. They glowed, the fires of cold rage dancing within them. Fire and ice in there, a deadly combination. Ethin glanced away from those eyes, not saying a word.

"No matter. The fact remains that you have failed me. Twice. Few men get a second chance." His voice softened. "Even fewer a third." Ethin looked back. El had sounded...whistful about that. Then El's eyes snapped back to Ethin, sending ice water through his spine. He flinched.

El opened a desk drawer, his face relaxing some. "What's in a name, Ethin?" Ethin furrowed his brow. What did he mean by that? "Sir?"

"I said 'what's in a name?'" He drew something out of the drawer and held it in his hand.

"I...don't understand."

"Then I will explain it to you." He held his hand open, revealing a small brass disk, slightly larger than a silver dollar and maybe a centimeter thick. It was completely featureless. "A name gives identity to its owner. It also gives control to whoever knows that name." He flipped the disk onto the desk. It spun around, ringing through the small room. It slowed down and stopped, showing the reverse side. A plain letter "L" was stamped on it, going halfway through the disk.

"That, Ethin, is all that remains of my name. I have no identity. No one holds power over me. I am the Archimedial point, Ethin. The immovable spot from which I can move the Earth." El reached across and picked up the disk, then placed it back in the desk drawer.

"Ethin, I have always thought of you as my son." El stood up and slowly walked around the desk, motioning Ethin to stay seated. He laid a hand on Ethin's shoulder. What was going on? Ethin looked up at El's face and was surprised to see a thin smile there. The scar on his cheek twisted it, though, into a grotesque grimace. At least the anger had gone from the eyes.

"Because of that, I think it only right that you know my name. Long, long ago, before Code-G was even formed, I did have a name. Now it is to but few. Very few."

Something clicked behind him.

"That name, Ethin, was Leach." Ethin barely felt the bullet enter his brain.

----------------------

I realized I've gone against a good deal of established stuff. Oh well. You're not going to see stuff from me for a while now. I have got some really big stuff to do. Hope you enjoyed this.

F�nix