PHALANX - The second movie

Changes.

Vicky walked up to the office of the general. She saluted at the desk clerk, who waved her in. With deliberate paces, she strode into General Perkins' office. She snapped at attention in front of his desk, and saluted. The twelve-year-old looked at the impressive looking gray-hared man who was sitting behind the desk.

The office of the general was sparsely decorated, save for the 'Section X' symbol on the floor, and the 'Project Zodiac' seal on the wall behind the general. The Section X symbol was nothing more than a black circle, with a golden rim, and a gray X in the center. It was a large-scale representation of the same patch Vicky wore on her uniform.

"At ease, Lieutenant," the general addressed her. Vicky did so.

"We need you to take out Enrique Gonzales, priority classification 4," The general told her, handing her a black folder. For six years now, Vicky had been handed assignments like these. The folder was 'eyes only', the black color indicating a clearance level that was way beyond even the president of the United States.

Vicky opened the folder, scanned the contents, memorized it, closed the folder, and handed it back to the general. "Aye, sir," she said.

"Before your go, Lieutenant, I want you to meet the new member to your team," the general said, reaching for the phone.

Vicky had been trained not to feel emotions, but this was an unusual situation. A new member? Who could it be? She had always worked alone, her genetically enhanced body enabling her to do what she was ordered to do. To have someone assigned to work with her…it startled Vicky.

The door opened, and a six-year-old blonde walked in, dressed in a uniform similar to Vicky's.

Vicky had given no outward sign of her inner confusion, and had once again regained her inner peace as well. Her superiors always knew best.

"Lieutenant, I am aware that you know about Project Zodiac, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Vicky said.

"Then you are aware of two programs within Project Zodiac."

"Yes, sir." It took her two seconds to figure out that the general wanted to hear what she knew. "Project Zodiac contains two programs, labeled 'Phalanx' and 'Sagittarius'. The first generations of these programs were subsequently terminated as their abilities didn't surface, and a second generation was put in motion. I am the second generation 'Phalanx' commander-soldier."

"Captain Vicky, meet Lieutenant Sarah, the second-generation warrior-soldier," the general introduced the blonde.

"Yes, sir," Vicky said, giving no sign as to having any feelings whatsoever to her promotion.

"Lieutenant Sarah, meet your commanding officer, second generation Phalanx commander-soldier, Captain Vicky."

"Yes, sir," the six-year old said.

"The armory is at your disposal. If you need something else, it will be here within 24 hours, tops. Dismissed," the general turned back to his computer terminal. Both girls snapped at attention, said "Aye, aye, sir," and left.

"What are your abilities and specialties, Lieutenant?" Vicky asked as the duo strode through the halls of the high-tech facility.

"Tenth degree grand mastership in Kung Fu, Karate, and Kenpo. Special warfare training in small firearms and assault weaponry. Level 9 Advanced training in hand-to-hand combat. Special Forces survival training. Advanced explosives and demolition."

Vicky nodded. "You are well-trained. We will be do fine," she added the last. She could remember her own insecurity when she had been sent out on her first mission, now six years ago. Her hardwired command abilities had surfaced. After 12 years, she was used to discovering new things that came naturally to her. Hand-to-hand combat, electronic warfare, intelligence gathering, and of course, the crème de la crème: her mental abilities.

"What is the status on your advanced mental abilities?"

"Fully active," the girl added. "Sir, may I ask as to your status?"

Vicky nodded. "Fully activated Phalanx mental capacities, 10^th degree black belt in a dozen martial arts forms, including karate, Kenpo, kenjutsu, and jiu-jitsu. Advanced electronic warfare training. Level 13 post-advanced hand-to-hand combat training. Green beret and navy seal training. Intelligence and counter-intelligence training. Advanced meditation techniques. Shootist firearms training in everything up to small anti-tank missiles. Sniper training. I have also received the Special Forces survival training. And I have a pilot's license for airplanes and helicopters, as well as a driver's license for motorcycles, cars, trucks and busses. I am fully qualified to use whatever means of transportation is currently available on the planet."

(Author's note: for those who do not know, a shootist is a professional gunfighter, an assassin with a gun, if you want.)

The two girls halted in front of the armory. Vicky raised her right hand, and put it in front of the scanner, which identified her, and allowed her access. The door slid open, and Sarah's eyes lit up like she were a child in a candy store. To her, she was in a candy store.

Vicky immediately went from rack to rack, taking a gun here and an assault rifle there. The assistant of the armory obediently took the weapons Vicky pulled out. Belts of ammo were added, as well as combat knives, equipment belts and bulletproof vests. Sarah didn't follow far behind, taking her own weapons. Because she was still small, she limited herself to a couple of handguns, a combat knife, and some armor, specially designed for her.

Sarah was startled as Vicky turned back the way they had come, but she too had been trained to follow orders, so she followed Vicky. Both were already carrying a backpack with their selected weapons, and Sarah was wondering where Vicky was leading her.

Then, Vicky halted in front of a door.

"This room is classified top-secret, highest level. Not even General Perkins can know about what lies behind this door", Vicky said, turning to the girl. "This room has been shown to me by one of my instructors. He took his own life later that day. You and I are the only ones who are allowed in this room, understood?"

"Completely," Sarah said.

Vicky pressed a few keys, and the door slid open. To Sarah's surprise, they entered an airlock of some sort.

"Computer, identify Vicky, Phalanx, second gen. Commander-soldier. Allow access."

Second life form detected. State name, rank, and purpose.

"Sarah, Sagittarius, Lieutenant, second gen. Warrior-soldier. Second member in team. Allow access," Vicky stated.

Sarah, Sagittarius, state name, title, purpose and request clearance for future references.

"Sarah, Sagittarius, second gen. Warrior-soldier. Allow access," the girl said.

Access granted.

The inner door slid open, and Sarah's eyes almost fell out. If the last room was the candy store, this was an entire mall made up out of only candy stores. Vicky took a sword from one of the racks in the front of the room, right next to the 'airlock'.

Sarah looked around; identifying weaponry that shouldn't be here… these weapons didn't exist!

"Leave your weapons here," Vicky instructed, pointing to a cabinet. "General Perkins is to believe we used the weapons issued from the armory. Don't worry about training. You know that Sagittarius includes a genetic predisposition to weapons training, just like Phalanx. In one hour, you'll shoot as good as I do."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said, putting the backpack in the locker.

"Quick explanation," Vicky said. "Plasma weapons, short range," she pointed to one rack. "Plasma weapons, medium range," she pointed to a second rack," Plasma weapons, long range," she pointed to the third rack. "Plasma assault rifles, and plasma sniper rifles are in rack four. These weapons use special energy packs, which are in the cabinet over there. Electronics equipment, ranging from night vision goggles to data contact lenses are in the other cabinet. Access to the supercomputer and the Zodiac satellite network are through that console. And last but not least, body armor is in the room over there."

"Thank you, sir."

Vicky nodded, and packed two plasma-handguns, a plasma sniper rifle, put in a pair of contacts, and clipped a small keyboard from the electronics cabinet on her left arm. She then walked in the next room, and came back out dressed in black armor. What startled Sarah the most was the fact that the armor looked almost like normal clothing. She started gearing up as well as Vicky consulted the supercomputer.

By the time the small girl was ready, Vicky had composed a file on the computer. A gigantic screen was visible at a section of the wall that had slid aside.

"Our primary target is Enrique Gonzales, dictator in a small central-American country. It has been confirmed that he is not only involved heavily in drug trafficking, but he is giving shelter to drug lords as well. Our mission is to take him out, destroy the fields where the stuff is being grown, and the permanent deactivation of the any drug lord we might encounter."

"We're going to do the job of the police?"

"Since this is another country, the police are powerless. We are to do what they can't do legally."

"I understand, sir. May I ask another question?"

"Of course," Vicky responded.

"Where do all these weapons come from? I mean, if we're the only ones with access, where did these weapons come from? Who made them?"

"Come with me, Lieutenant," Vicky answered, leading the girl into the armor room. "Through that door is a lab. In that lab, these weapons are created. I don't know the exact details, but as far as I know, they create the weapons, test them, and put them in here. The scientists live in another part of the facility, completely incommunicado. They do not to talk to anyone on the outside. All communication goes from outside to inside, never the other way around."

"Ingenious system, sir."

"It is," Vicky coldly responded. "We have to get ready."

"Sir, where are the explosives?"

"Since I never used explosives, there are none available here at the moment. Write up a short note to General Perkins, listing what you need. It will be here by the time we leave."

"Yes, sir."

"Where are your quarters, Lieutenant?"

"It was my impression that I was to be quartered with you, Captain."

Vicky nodded. She had suspected as much. "That will be ideal for us to become a team. After your training in the plasma weapons, we will go over some rules, come to some agreements."

"Yes, sir. May I ask why you are carrying a sword?"

Vicky looked at the katana dangling from her left hip. "Level 11 hand-to-hand combat includes sword training for close-in-combat purposes. In tight quarters, a blademaster is a lot more deadly than even a shootist. I should know, I'm both," she responded with a smile on her face. Sarah smiled, and shook her head. In those six years her commander was older, she had mastered a variety of skills that could replace an entire army. Sarah then knew that she would train to the limit of her abilities, honing her skills to a razor's edge. She vowed to be able to take a sword of her own into the next battle.

Just as Vicky had predicted, Sarah's genetic predisposition toward weapons control and handling made her an expert markswoman within the hour. She wasn't a shootist yet, her practice focused on shooting targets. In order to become a shootist, one had to pass the obstacle course within a set time limit. Vicky decided that Sarah would become a shootist with the weapons within the next week…her title would, just like the elder girl's, be written in blood.

"Now, let's make a few agreements, shall we?" Vicky asked. "We're to be a team, and a team can't function like we've been functioning up until now. We'll never be a full team if we continue to act this way."

"I agree, sir," Sarah responded. Both girls should still be in school, not spending a few hours making arrangements for them to function smoothly, both on and off the battlefield. When not on duty, they would be friends, but when on duty, both would act like the professionals they had been trained to be.

Two days later, both girls put their jungle warfare training to good use as they snuck up on the villa that was the permanent residence of their primary target: Enrique Gonzales.

"There it is," Vicky pointed out, using 5^th-generation night vision goggles as binoculars. Sarah used her own to get a better look while Vicky covered her. Neither paused to consider that they were already behaving like twenty-year veterans: always one covering the other, always on guard, protecting herself and the team member.

"I got it," Sarah whispered. "What do we do, Captain?"

"Normally, I would wait, and take out the target with a sniper shot. But, since I have a demolitions expert with me, I am inclined to watch some fireworks."

"Yes, sir," Sarah whispered. "I have the necessary explosives with me."

"I will cover you," Vicky whispered totally unnecessary, but feeling the need to say something to get going. Both girls slid through the dense jungle, until they stood at the very edge of the dense green hell.

"That will be a fifty meter spurt. What is your best time?" Vicky asked.

"Four seconds," Sarah whispered back. Vicky nodded. She held up three fingers, two, one… like lightning, the two girls set a new world record as they raced across the open space to one of the statues that dictators always seem to put in their gardens. The guards were nowhere to be seen, possibly thinking that the green Hell would be enough to keep any unwelcome visitors out. They were right, but both Vicky and Sarah were the very best. No normal Human could have come so close with all the equipment they were carrying.

Vicky and Sarah snuck to the porch, where they crouched. Vicky had her plasma gun out in her left hand, her right hand on the sword. Sarah placed the remote-detonator and the C-4 in less then a minute. Both ran to the next spot, Vicky covering her team member, who knew exactly where to place the explosives. The ritual repeated itself a few more times, Sarah placing the explosives in less than a minute each and every time.

Their good luck wasn't to last. One of the fanatic guards, one of the few who actually went through the trouble of guarding the place, had spotted them. Before Vicky could kill him, he had pressed the alarm.

Vicky's aim was perfect, her plasma gun leaving a neat hole in his body where his heart used to be. Contrary to conventional firearms, a plasma gun was totally silent. But, the damage had been done: the guards came running.

"How many more?" Vicky barked as she ran through her clip of plasma rounds.

"Ten," Sarah said back, her own plasma gun firing in the exact opposite direction.

"I'm out," Vicky said, activating the gun's self-destruct mode, and throwing it at the nearest guard. The explosion took out two of them, and provided cover for Vicky, who drew her plasma assault rifle. Putting it in full automatic, she yelled, "Proceed to the next location!"

"Yes, sir!" Sarah yelled back, shooting her way to the next location. The moving guards provided a more challenging target for the girl who had until now shot only at cardboard targets, but as Vicky had predicted, she was becoming more and more deadly with every shot she fired.

Vicky, meanwhile, covered her partner's back with her fully automatic assault rifle.

Suddenly, they ran out of targets. "Not good," Vicky said, holding the assault rifle ready. Even though she liked sword fights, it was always best to take out an enemy at a distance. Allowing one to close within the striking distance of the sword was not smart.

Sarah placed another explosive charge. "One more," she reported. "Do you think Enrique is still here?"

"I don't know," Vicky responded, covering her partner while she placed the last charge. Running, Sarah held the remote to the charges in her small hand.

"Prepare for blast!" Sarah yelled. Both girls fell instinctively to the ground, the rush of hot air blasted over them before they heard the actual explosion. Both looked up from their position on the grassy ground, looking at the ruins of what used to be a villa. A military chopper chose that exact moment to appear. It made an emergency controlled crash, meaning a fast landing, and twenty armed soldiers jumped from the back.

"Sarah, mental shield. I'm going to toast those guys," Vicky said, kneeling to one knee, and putting her hands together. Sarah stood behind her commander, put her hands on the older girl's shoulders, and created a mental shield, as strong as she could make it.

Vicky closed her eyes, focusing her power on the juncture of her hands. The soldiers fired at the two girls, but their bullets struck only air, being reflected harmlessly by the shield. Vicky could hear Sarah grunt at each impact, her mental abilities obviously not very well trained.

"Drop…shield," Vicky grunted. She released her stored energy as a massive ball of white-colored energy. The soldiers literally burnt to a crisp, while the helicopter behind them exploded. Sarah could see some of the rainforest burning directly behind the destruction. Vicky's energy had left a path of wreckage and bodies.

Slowly, Vicky stood up. "We have to find Enrique," she said, tapping a few keys on the small keypad. A needle jumped out. "DNA analyzer," Vicky explained, "it's linked to my VR contacts. It will identify the remains, telling us if we have Enrique, or not."

One by one, Vicky stuck the needle in the dead bodies. At one of the charred remains, she spoke up.

"This was his daughter," she said, looking at the burnt body of a six-year-old. She quashed the thought that the girl was Sarah's age. She resumed her searching, until she identified Enrique Gonzales' body. Unceremoniously, she made the bodies that were still identifiable burst into flames.

"Now, let's get ourselves some secondary targets, and have some fun. It's time you learn the joys of war," Vicky said, walking back into the dense rainforest. Sarah followed right behind. Neither girl turned back to look at the destruction they had caused in less than one hour of fighting, just like they didn't grieve for the deaths they had caused, or give a thought for the families of those killed. They had done the job they had been sent here to do, and that was what was important.

After walking through the dense forest, they came to a plantation.

"We're in luck. There aren't that many guards," Vicky said. "Now, I want you to torch the plantation."

"Torch the plantation, right. How?"

"What is the most advanced course in mental abilities you have followed?" Vicky asked, turning to her young partner.

"Level 3, post-basic level."

"Lesson one in advanced mental abilities. Create a flame in your mind. Got it?" as the girl nodded, Vicky continued, "Now, bring in a mental image of the plantation. Good. Now, bring the flame and the plantation together. Make the flame erupt over it, let it erupt from the very cores of the poppies. Good!"

Vicky smiled as she saw flames erupt all over the field. The girl certainly had potential. She certainly had progressed further than Vicky had on her first lesson. Then, Vicky jumped backwards as a literally humongous flame erupted from the center of the plantation, torching workers, guards, storage facilities, and…the villa of the local drug lord. Vicky laughed openly, breaking Sarah's concentration. The girl looked at the destruction she had caused.

"I…I did that?" the girl asked, not believing what her eyes were telling her.

"You sure did," Vicky grinned. "You're strong as hell, girl! I certainly will have to take a look into the Sagittarius powers after we get back! It took me weeks of training to reach that level, and you did it just like that, out of the blue. Now, are we going to have some more fun?"

Sarah swelled with pride. "Oh, yeah!"

Vicky rubbed Sarah's head. "That's my girl," she said, leading the way to the next plantation.

Over the course of the next week and a half, the two-woman crack-commando squad brought the entire drug operation of the country to its knees. The drug lords were killed without a problem, their fields burned to a crisp; most workers and guards would die in the process.

When they finally returned, both Vicky and Sarah expected to be commended for their job well done.

"The first objective, the assassination of Enrique Gonzales, was successful. The mission's secondary objective, the destruction of the drug plantations, was met with success. The mission's tertiary mission, the permanent retirement of the drug lords, was successful as well," Vicky reported to General Perkins.

Sarah stood at attention next to her commanding officer, and noticed that the general seemed to listen with only partial attention. Sarah remained virtually immobile as Vicky continued her report.

"The mission objectives were indeed met," General Perkins finally said after Vicky finished her report. "However, the first rule of the Section X manual was not,"

Vicky turned pale. All Section X missions are to be carried out under strict and total silence.

"However, since the mission was a success, I am willing to let it go for this once," the general added.

"Thank you, sir," Vicky and Sarah said at the same time.

"Dismissed," the general responded, and both girls snapped a salute, turned on their heels, and walked to the door.

"One more thing, Captain. Lieutenant," the general said as they had almost reached the door.

"Yes, sir?" Vicky and Sarah turned back to their commanding officer.

"I did put you up as volunteers for an extra pain-threshold training. This afternoon, at 4.30 in block G."

"Yes, sir," Vicky's face fell. Sarah had no idea what pain-threshold training was, but she could see by the look on Vicky's face that it was not enjoyable.

Both girls returned to their quarters.

"What is pain-threshold training, Vicky?" Sarah asked. Both she and Vicky had decided to go on first-name basis during their missions. Holding up the commander-subordinate routine was nearly impossible under the stress of war. They had become soul mates, joined by common experiences.

"Torture training," Vicky responded. "You first get a small note, with a word, number, or a picture on it. You memorize it, and then destroy the paper. After that, you're interrogated. Everything goes for them to get you to confess what was on the paper."

"The torture training I used to have showed me how to block out pain, but it was all theory!"

"Welcome to the big league," Vicky said coolly.

Sarah's eyes were wide. Vicky could see the fear clearly written all over the girl's face.

"It is bad," Vicky said, answering the girl's worst fears. "But it will make you strong. You would have to go through the training sooner or later anyway."

"Did you?"

"I did," Vicky answered.

"Was it bad?"

"Very bad," Vicky responded, closing her eyes. "But as I said, it will also make you strong. At this very moment, I am immune to most truth-drugs, I have an almost inhuman tolerance for pain, and I can shut off reality at will, to escape during the more…intense moments. I don't expect you to be able to do that today. It takes a long time to build up to that. I fully expect you to pass out multiple times today."

Vicky was hard, and she knew it. There was no sense in lying, as in a few hours, Sarah would be subject to the worst pains a Human could ever undergo. Vicky knew, from her own experiences, that the first time was the worst. She could still remember that first night, sleeping on the cold concrete floor of her quarters, unable to climb into the bed after dragging herself from the dungeon to her room.

"Oh, my. Now I know why we were volunteered for it," the girl whispered.

"There is one thing you can hold on to," Vicky said.

"Which is?"

"They won't kill you. Hurt you, yes. Hurt you enough to pass out, yes. But kill you, no. They won't maim you, or inflict anything permanent. But it will hurt more than you could ever imagine."

"Damn," the girl whispered. Vicky looked at Sarah, and could see the trembling of the small shoulders, the quivering of the lower lip.

"I will be right there with you. They will attempt to use our relationship against us, so they'll ask you, and punish me for not answering, and they'll punish you if I don't answer. But remember, we are in this together. Under no circumstances are you to reveal the data. It will earn you more punishment than a thousand torture trainings could ever inflict on you. We will get through this together," Vicky promised.

Sarah looked at the twelve-year-old, her jet-black hair, the grim mouth, and the resolution in her eyes. An innumerable strength went out from her features, a strength telling the younger girl that she would never give in to the sadists. Sarah drew her own strength from Vicky, steeling her nerves and pushing her fear into the deepest recesses of her mind.

"We'll get through this," Sarah said, her voice resolute. Vicky smiled, and nodded.

"You have the heart of a warrior, just like me. Do you have a mantra?"

"I haven't…I just never thought that I would need one, certainly not this soon," Sarah said, her voice quieter now.

"Try this one…I read it in a very good book called 'Dune'. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. It has helped me a lot…it reminds you that acceptance is the nature of things, that those who are strong enough to accept pain will not feel it. But, by fighting it, you will only make it worse."

Sarah looked up at the girl who had now officially become her mentor. She nodded, and repeated the mantra a couple of times, to get it engraved into her mind. I must not fear…her mind told her. Fear is the mind-killer. I can see the wisdom…I am lucky to have someone like her to help me through this.

Later that night, Vicky lay in her bed, watching the six-year-old Sarah lying on the floor. As she had expected, Sarah had been hurt badly, and she had passed out multiple times. Vicky did give her credit though. The girl never screamed, not wanting to give the torturers the satisfaction. She herself, she had done nicely. Of course, after logging over 400 hours in that dungeon, she had become virtually immune to everything they could throw at her.

Vicky remembered her first time, when she had to sleep on the floor. She should help Sarah, shouldn't she? After all, she was her subordinate…and a good commander cared for her subordinates. So, Vicky got out of bed, carefully picked up the girl, who whimpered in pain, and gently put her in her bed. Vicky then walked to the small sink, put some water on a washcloth, and carefully cleaned some of the worst blood away. After rubbing the cold washcloth gently over the girl's head, Sarah came to.

"Vicky…"

"Shh. Sleep now. I'm proud of you, not screaming," Vicky said with a gentle voice.

"It hurt so much…"

"I know. Sleep now, you'll feel a lot better in the morning. We're very strong and rapid healers. By morning, your wounds will be closed."

Sarah seemed to accept that, and closed her eyes. Vicky washed out the cloth, put it up to dry, and got into her own bed. For half the night, she was up, listening to the quiet grunts and moans of pain coming from the other bed. Her battle-hardened mind had difficulty coping with the feelings of protectiveness she felt for the girl. Why did she want to wrap her arms around Sarah, hold her, comfort her? Why? She had been trained for years to be a soldier, cold, callous, without emotions, and here she was now: trying her very damn hardest not to get up and wrap her arms around the girl in the other bed.

 

Location: Section X facility. Time: two years later.

"Captain. Lieutenant," General Perkins greeted the two as they entered his office, saluted, and stood at attention in front of his desk. He gave Vicky a black folder.

"The Centre, a research facility, has requested our help in apprehending their wayward Pretender, Jarod," the general briefed them.

Vicky leafed through the folder. "This is a civilian assignment?" she asked. Sarah's head snapped to look at her friend. Civilian assignments weren't common, and both girls hated them. It held various implications: very limited weaponry was one of them. They did not have permission to use the plasma weaponry, or any of the weapons from the Section X armory.

"It is. The Centre is a civilian institution. It's director, Raines, has very high connections, and that is why he was able to ask our help," the general confirmed.

Vicky handed the folder to Sarah, who immediately started leafing.

"As you can see, your assignment is very clear: you are to go to The Centre, learn all you can about this Pretender-class normal, apprehend him, and bring him back to The Centre."

"Yes, sir."

Sarah handed the folder back to the general. Both snapped a salute on his 'dismissed', and left the office.

Location: The Centre, Blue Cove, Delaware. Time: 24 hours later.

Vicky was dressed in blue a pair of blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a blue jeans jacket as she walked down the ramp of the small airplane. Sarah, dressed similarly to her companion, followed right behind. A limousine was waiting for them; a chauffeur was standing ready to open the door. He looked surprised as Vicky and Sarah identified themselves, but he said nothing as he let them in.

Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of a large building. As the two girls exited the car, a man with gray hair and a man pulling an oxygen tank walked up to the two girls.

"Vicky, Phalanx. This is Sarah, Sagittarius," Vicky identified the two of them. "We are here for operation Scorpio."

"Ah, yes. The Section X operatives," the man with the air tank hissed. "I am Mr. Raines, and this is Mr. Parker."

Both operatives nodded at the men, and were led inside. They were brought to another group of people.

"This is the team currently assigned to the Pretender case," Mr. Raines said.

A woman, her hair was as black as Vicky's, started complaining immediately.

"Daddy, you can't be serious! Those two should be in school!" she complained to Mr. Parker. Vicky and Sarah just looked at each other, shared a small grin, and returned their attention to the spectacle.

"Pumpkin, these two ladies were sent here by Section X to assist us in getting Jarod back."

"Those two? Look at her," she pointed to Sarah. "She's barely old enough to walk around without diapers."

Vicky and Sarah took the group in. There was an elderly man, a young man sitting at a computer terminal, and the woman with the black hair. None of them were a threat.

"This is getting boring," Sarah whispered to her friend. They both allowed themselves some more freedom now that they were outside the Section X facility. In the outside world, they were a team, not just two operatives working together.

"It is," Vicky agreed. She looked at the older man of the group. "I think we should go talk to him, get the information we need, and get this job over with."

"Agreed," Sarah said. The two girls walked over to the man.

"I am Vicky, this is Sarah," Vicky introduced herself and her friend. The partnership they had shared for two years now had forged a deep bond.

"I am Sidney. This is Broots," the older man said. "And that's Miss Parker."

"We would like access to your information," Vicky said.

"Uhm…sure…" Broots stumbled. "Here…let me print …"

"That will not be necessary," Vicky said. "Is all the information localized on this terminal?"

"The …electronic info is," the man stumbled, looking at Sidney, throwing him a questioning glance. Sidney shrugged.

"Sarah will go with you to bring the other information here," Vicky said to the man. "This office will do nicely for our investigation." Broots had to jump to get out of the way before the 14-year-old girl planted herself in his chair. Her fingers started rattling.

"You'll…you'll need a pass…" his voice trailed off as 'Password accepted' flashed on the screen.

"Second generation, I'm impressed," Vicky smiled as she continued typing, the information flashing on the screen at tremendous speeds. "Please, get the other information here," she said to Sarah.

"Right," Sarah responded. "Broots, assist me."

"Uh…right," the man said, getting up and leading the way. By now, Ms Parker had seen that Vicky was working on the computer.

"What are you doing?" she asked coldly.

"Pumpkin," Mr. Parker began. "That girl is Section X. she's a class-one operative. On her own, she can take out an entire sweeper team. Her companion is just as bad. Together, those two could kill us all, blow up the building, and the police would say that it was all an accident. They're the best. Don't make them mad."

"That's bullshit, Daddy. Those two schoolgirls couldn't kill a cat."

Vicky's eyes shot up from the screen. The rattling stopped. Her face devoid of all emotions, her eyes cold, she got up from the chair. She appeared calm, but on the inside, she was ready to fight. Fight, and kill, without mercy.

"Shall I demonstrate the effectiveness of the Phalanx program?" she asked. Her voice was flat, and cold.

"Oh, please do," Ms Parker sarcastically responded, turning to Vicky.

"Draw the gun you have in your shoulder holster. I guarantee that, before it's out completely, you'll be dead."

"How did you know…" she shook her head. "Forget it. Alright, you're on." Ms Parker started to draw. Vicky jumped, bounced off the larger woman, slamming her into the wall. Ms. Parker's gun suddenly appeared in the girl's hand. The shot reverberated through the room, down the hallways, and through the building. Ms Parker looked at the bullet-hole two millimeters to the left of her left ear. It had taken off some of her hair.

Vicky's face betrayed no emotions, the gun still in her right hand, pointed at Ms. Parker. "I missed intentionally. The next bullet will be through your skull. Is this enough demonstration for you?"

Ms. Parker's face was ash-white. So were the faces of everyone else in the room. Ms. Parker was a trained woman, and Vicky had taken her out without breaking a sweat!

"This is not a bad gun," Vicky continued, looking at the weapon. "But I've seen better." She threw the gun back to the woman on the floor. "Get up, and pull yourself together for Chris's sake!" she sat back down at the terminal.

Not ten seconds later, Sarah came rushing through the door, gun drawn, sweeping for trouble. A sweeper team was right behind her.

"Put the gun down, people. It was merely a demonstration," Vicky ordered, not taking her eyes of the screen. Sarah immediately complied, but the sweeper team didn't. Annoyed, Vicky looked up.

"Mr. Parker, have your men do as they're told, or I will." Vicky's voice sent chills down the spines of the people present, and considering the kind of things they were accustomed to, that was a big deal.

"Put them down," Mr. Raines hissed. The sweeper team put the guns away, and filled out of the office. Sarah did the same, going back to Broots, and her job of getting the hard-copy information.

"So, why did Section X put you on the job?" Sidney asked after Ms. Parker had taken a much-needed retreat.

"Because of our Pretender qualities," Vicky responded. "Our genetic structure includes some of the best qualities of the Human race, including the Pretender genes. However, because of the dangers involved with a full Pretender, the genes have been downgraded in both of us."

"I see," Sidney said. "And I take it that your training was specifically targeted towards the military aspect?"

Vicky shook her head. "A warrior ignorant of anything but war is simply ignorant," she said. "We are trained in survival, literature, mathematics, medicine, history, metallurgy, and a whole range of other subjects, including engineering and physics."

Sidney's mouth fell open, and he looked at Sarah.

"Yes, she too," Vicky answered his silent question.

"I've found another weakness in addition to the irrational protection of the innocent," Sarah interrupted the conversation.

"Yes?" Vicky asked.

"Family. He's looking for his mother and father," Sarah responded.

"Mommy and Daddy. Cute. A 35-year-old man looking for his mother and father. Warms my heart. What do we have on his folks?"

"Not much," Sarah said, taking a couple of folders, and passing them to Vicky.

"It's enough," Vicky said after looking through the folders. "Enough to trap him. But, his Pretender qualities will be against us."

"We'll have to out-think him," Sarah responded. "Remember normal human psychology. A human is weak, for he'll grasp at anything when in need."

"Right. He's not like us. He'll go after information on his parents even if he sees it's a trap," Vicky responded, looking back at one of Jarod's diaries. It was in some sort of code, but Vicky's enhanced intellect had broken the code quite easily. She guessed that Jarod hadn't put much time in developing the code, or it would have been much tougher to break.

Sidney felt cold inside. These two were talking about Jarod as if he were an animal of some sort…something less than they were. If he felt cold inside, the thing that happened next froze him over: both displayed a cold grin, their faces set in a determination he couldn't identify.

"What are our best estimates?" Sarah asked after a couple more hours work. It was nearing 5:00, and the people in the Centre were starting to file out quite nicely. Sidney was one of the few still there.

"Forty-eight hours," Vicky responded. "It shouldn't take longer than that to implement our plan."

"Plan?" Sidney asked.

"Sorry, can't tell you. We can't risk information leaking to the target."

Sidney flinched. Target? Jarod? Dear God…Those two aren't fooling around.

 

Jarod was working on his computer when the doorbell to his small apartment rang. Curious, he opened the door, only to find a delivery boy there.

"Are you Mr. Winter?" the boy asked.

"I am," Jarod responded.

"Express package for you. Could you sign here?"

"Sure," Jarod responded, signing for the package, wondering whom it might have come from. He took the package, tipped the boy, and returned to his small living room.

He examined the package, and only found 'From a friend' written on it. There was no return address. Jarod opened the cardboard box, to find a couple of pictures, some notebooks, and a couple of file folders.

Two hours later, he sighed and leaned back in the couch. "My parents," he muttered. "They're still alive, and this 'friend' has found them for me…I wonder who it is? And why he helped me like this?" Jarod decided to check the information out. After all, how much could it hurt?

"We've activated our plan," Vicky reported to Mr. Raines. "And no, we can not tell you any details. Rest assured, Jarod will be apprehended." With that, she turned on her heel, and marched out of his office without as much as a goodbye. Raines sat back in his chair.

"I don't need details as long as Jarod is caught," he muttered. Silently, he added: Section X did some fine work with you. I wonder if I could get my hands on you? With that, he picked up the phone, and started dialing.

Meanwhile, Vicky nodded to Sarah, who got up from her chair. "We're ready to proceed," Vicky told her partner. She turned to the three people staring dubiously at the two girls, and said, "thank you for your assistance."

Sidney and Broots looked pale, the recent events having shaken them heavily. Ms. Parker just lit another cigarette, and nervously took a drag from it. "You're welcome," she grunted through the smoke. The recent events had caused her to pick up smoking again.

Both girls nodded, turned, and walked to the elevator without as much as a goodbye. They walked out of the building, disappearing to the location of the trap.

 

Jarod's fingers raced the keyboard. Everything checked out so far, the names, addresses, all the information he had received turned out to be genuine. Jarod still wasn't convinced.

All the information checks out. Everything is in order. Then why can't I shake this feeling that something is drastically wrong? Am I becoming paranoid?

Jarod ignored the feelings, and booked himself an airplane ticket. By tomorrow, he would be reunited with his parents. He switched off the computer, and started packing. Nervousness had replaced his earlier feelings. How would he react to seeing his parents? What would they be like? Questions like that spooked through his mind as he packed his bags. They also kept him awake when he tried to get some sleep.

Vicky and Sarah pulled up to the small house that would be the location for Jarod's apprehension. They opened the trunk of the rental car, took out a trunk-full of equipment, and dragged it inside. Vicky had listed Jarod's parents as not having a car, so she returned the rental after securing the equipment in the house. They had to apprehend Jarod, so only tranquilizers were permitted. Of course, she could always use her own gun, and shoot Jarod in the legs, but that was only a last resort solution.

While Sarah turned the house in a weapons locker, Vicky returned the rental, and jogged back to the house. By the time she got back, the sniper-tranquilizer weapons had been set up, the side-arm tranquilizers had been loaded, and the house had been put in perfect order. If Vicky didn't know any better, it looked like an elderly pair had lived here for many years. The knickknacks, the curtains, the television, everything was cozy and warm, just like it was supposed to be.

"Good work," Vicky complimented her partner, who dipped her head in thanks. "Now, let's get some sleep. We have more work to do tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me," Sarah responded. Since this was not a military operation, with wartime conditions, both slept at the same time. By six the next morning, both were wide-awake, washed themselves, got dressed, and were ready for the next part of their plan. Their mental abilities included basic mind-control, enough for them to power the mental amplifier they had brought.

"Amplifier operational," Sarah said. "Range is set to the parameters of the village."

"Very well, " Vicky said. "Let's begin."

Both girls concentrated on the amplifier, a big and bulky box with lots of dials and read-outs, boosting their mind-control abilities to the level were they actually could influence a human being permanently.

"Setting the transmission for long-term memory implantation," Vicky said, while tapping the device. Mental abilities were her specialty. She and Sarah then started focusing on the actual task. So far, all they had done was create a link between them and the amplifier. Now, they would need to control the amplifier in order to get the job done.

Over the course of the next hour, they implanted the long-term memories of Jarod's parents in some of the villagers, to create the illusion that they lived here, that they were seen regularly in the village, and so on. In short, Vicky and Sarah had just created Jarod's parents without them actually existing. SO, if Jarod asked questions, he would get the response that his parents lived here.

By the time they were finished, both girls had severely depleted their mental reserves, and were sweating profusely. They showered again, dressed in other clothes, ate some breakfast, and awaited Jarod's arrival. A watch schedule was implemented, so one could relax while the other watched.

Armed at all times, both girls would be able to take out Jarod even in the eventuality that he managed to overpower one of them. Their long wait came to an end when Sarah spotted Jarod walking up to the house. She called for Vicky over the radio.

"Target acquired. Can I take the shot?" she asked. Vicky knelt down at the window next to her, using a pair of normal binoculars to see Jarod.

"Negative. Preference to take shot in inner zone," Vicky responded. Both operatives watched as Jarod closed the distance to the house.

"Target is nearing inner zone," Sarah reported.

"Got it. Switch to TAC three. Proceeding to retrieval location," Vicky said, slipping by under the window, and racing to the front door.

"Target has entered inner zone. Can I take the shot?" Sarah asked over the radio.

"I'm in position. Take the shot," Vicky responded, and stood ready at the door.

"Target down," Sarah said over the radio. The muffled tranquilizer gun had been barely audible to Vicky, and she had enhanced hearing, and was in the same house as the gun! Vicky threw open the door, raced outside, picked up the man as if he was a sack of potatoes, and raced back inside. By the time Vicky was inside, Sarah was in position, and slammed the door shut after her partner.

"Piece of cake," Vicky said as she dropped her load on the couch. Together, the two girls stripped the man, put him in some spare clothes they had brought, and put the heavy-duty shackles on Jarod's hands and feet, then proceeding to tie the two shackles together as well.

Vicky called in, "Target down, and in custody. Retrieval in progress. Arrival at airport in 4 hours." She immediately slammed the phone shut, so no one could trace her. Vicky was cautious almost to the point of paranoia, but neither she nor Sarah had any problems with it.

Jut as Vicky had reported, they were back at the airport in four hours. Jarod had woken up by now, and Vicky used her gun to force him to walk along with them. When they got off the plane, the first thing the two operatives noticed were the two men waiting for them.

"Vicky and Sarah?" the tallest man asked.

"Yes," Vicky responded cautiously.

The men didn't respond. The taller just drew his gun, and fired. Vicky's lighting reflexes probably were all that saved her, as the bullet missed her heart, but pierced her left lung instead. Clutching at her chest, she sunk to the ground.

Sarah meanwhile didn't stop for tea. She had her own gun drawn, and shot the first man, the one who had fired at her commander. She dodged while she fired, causing the second man's bullet to miss her. The first man, hit right between the eyes, died immediately. The second man jumped toward Sarah, who couldn't get a clean shot due to the man's lighting-fast dodges.

So, both Sarah and the second man entered in hand-to-hand combat. What Sarah had held for impossible happened: she found out that this man could match her abilities! Her attacks were parried, and she found out that she had to keep her full attention on the fight to be able to counter his. Their arms blurred, both relying totally on muscle-memory: reactions in the subconscious.

Suddenly, Sarah found herself in a sticky situation. The second man had materialized a knife out of a pocket, and she found it racing towards her throat. Sarah's hands started to fly upwards, blocking the knife, but probably incurring massive damage during the attempt. A shot rang through the air, and the man's hand was blown right off. The hand, and the knife it clutched, skidded across the concrete floor, out of reach of the flabbergasted man.

Sarah looked at her wounded commander, who had by now regained enough composure to ignore the stabbing pain in her chest to grab her gun.

"Who…are you, and … who sent…you?" she wheezed.

The man looked coldly at her. Then, something familiar flashed in his eyes.

"Third-gens!" she shouted. "You're both third gens, aren't you?"

The flash in his eyes told her all she needed to know. "Dammit! That's why you both look like adults! Accelerated aging!" she shouted, adrenalin totally blocking out the pain in her chest. The gun fired. The man dropped.

"Third generations?" Sarah asked. "They sent a couple of third generations after us? Why?"

"They…probably…want…to retire…us," Vicky grunted. The adrenalin had lost its effects, and the paralyzing pain overcame her. The world turned black around her, and she never felt the contact with the concrete surface.

Vicky opened her eyes, and found herself in an unfamiliar location. Slowly, she looked around. Her chest had been bandaged, and her body tingled from the drain it took to heal the wound. She didn't sense any hostilities, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Grunting, she tried to get up from the bed. She was in a small room, sparsely furnished, and looking like it had seen a lot of better times.

Sarah came through the door as Vicky stifled another yelp of pain as she tried to get into her black t-shirt.

"Vicky!" the girl shouted. "You shouldn't be up now. Come, go back to bed," the girl guided Vicky back to the bed, where she gratefully sunk into it.

"Where are we?" Vicky grunted.

"Safe house. Looks like your paranoia has saved us once again."

"Jarod?"

Sarah's face fell. "Escaped during the struggle."

"Damn. Anything on the third gens?"

"Nothing. Computers are your specialty."

Vicky nodded, her eyes slipping close on their own. "I…need…rest," she managed to say before slipping back into the void.

Sarah pulled the covers over her partner and left the room. If it weren't for their genetically enhanced healing abilities, Vicky would either be dead, or in a coma in a hospital. It was a small miracle that she had been able to stand up when she had awakened, let alone get far enough to actually try and get her shirt on.

General Perkins fumed. All his reports told him the same: no news. Nothing. Not only had he lost his two new third-generation operatives, but worse: Vicky and Sarah had both escaped. So had Jarod. The general wasn't too worried about the pretender, but he was worried about the two second-generation operatives. They had gone underground, not to be seen, or heard from, but he knew that they would come back once they had regained their full potentials. He knew that Vicky had been shot, and he knew that all would be lost if they started delving into what had happened.

He had ordered triple security, he had ordered a full APB on the two of them, and he had sent out all the teams Section X could muster. Perkins looked at his hand. It used to be steady. Now he could see small twitches and tremors going through it. He knew that it would be nothing compared to what he would feel if Vicky and Sarah decided to wage war.

It had now been a week since their disappearance, and still there was no sign of them. The phone on his desk started ringing. With a sigh, he picked up the receiver.

"What?" he barked.

"Mr. Raines on Line one," his secretary told him.

"Put him on," the general barked. Raines' hissing voice came through the receiver the next moment.

"I just got a package delivered to the Centre's doorstep," Raines told him.

"Oh?" General Perkins asked nonchalantly.

"It was a wooden crate. It contained one Pretender, with two blasted kneecaps. It also included a message. I quote: 'Enjoy your present'."

General Perkins, who had just grabbed for his cup of coffee, almost knocked it over.

"Thank you for the information," the general said.

"This concludes our deal, Perkins. I don't want to be at the center of the wrath of those two operatives you pissed off," Raines added.

"Excuse me? You used those connections of yours to have Vicky and Sarah delivered to your doorstep. That little deal cost us two operatives, and ensured that two others have gone on the warpath. I'll make damn sure that, if they show up here, they'll know exactly who is behind all this!" General Perkins shouted, and slammed down the receiver.

His face had gone ashen-white, and he could feel his pulse racing. He had felt apprehension until now, but this was different. For the first time he felt afraid. Really afraid. He had always believed Section X to be the most secure place on the world, but nothing was safe from Vicky and Sarah, and he knew it. He had authorized all the training and schooling they had requested, and it had created not only two deadly operatives, but also two deadly and INTELLIGENT operatives.

Vicky and Sarah have recaptured Jarod? And delivered him to the Centre's doorstep? This means that their assignment is over. Now, it will come down to two options: either they think it was all an accident, and come to Section X, or they'll wage war.

Perkins didn't believe they would be so stupid to believe option one. In his heart, he knew that the clock was ticking. He had seen how they had behaved in the 'interrogation' chamber. He had seen the cold looks in their eyes when they were fighting. He had seen Vicky grow up from age six to age fourteen, and he had seen Sarah grow from age six to age eight. He had seen how both of them had developed.

Now that his mind was going over all the things that had happened since he was the head of Project Zodiac, his heart turned even more afraid.

Get a hold on yourself, man! In a moment or two, you'll do their job for them! If they want you, make them come after you!

Vicky grunted in pain as she did her push-ups. The left chest-muscle had been shot to hell, and it needed a lot of time to get back in shape. It had been two weeks since the attack now, and she still didn't know if she would ever be all right. The scar on her left breast was still very visible, and the muscle still didn't function properly. With a lot of tenacity, she did her intense physical workout, forcing her body back into shape.

"Vicky, are you sure you should be taking this so seriously?" Sarah asked from behind the kitchen counter. This was the third safe house, one they had just moved into. They would be staying here for anything ranging from 4 days to a week.

"I am," Vicky grunted as she counted 50. Sweat poured down her face, which was set in a grim determination as her left breast hurt like hell. "By next week, we're going after Section X. I want to know what they were thinking," Vicky puffed as she reached 60.

Sarah just nodded, and continued making breakfast. Her commander had relied totally upon her for most of the heavy duties, and she knew that Vicky hated it. But, the last few days had shown real improvement, Vicky's genetic alterations making it possible for her to make miracle recoveries.

Vicky did another ten pushups, reaching 70 in total, and got up. She devoured her breakfast, consisting out of a big bowl of cereal, and then joined Sarah in her workout. Vicky's body had been drained totally when it was forced to repair a lethal wound, at it forced her to start at the same level of the six-year younger girl. But, Vicky could already feel her strength returning, and she knew that, in another couple of days, she would be back the way she was, save for the left chest muscle.

"Still nothing, sir," the assistant reported to general Perkins.

"What's the status on the two new operatives?"

The assistant opened a folder, and gazed into it. "They're both at the four-year-old stage, sir. Still too young to begin serious training, let alone go after two seasoned warriors."

"Damn, damn, damn. It's been three weeks. Time enough to recover from almost any wound. I just know they'll be after us."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," the general waved.

"Why don't we vacate this facility, and move someplace else?"

"Our bosses don't believe that Vicky and Sarah will come after us," the general grunted. "The fools think that two class-one operatives on the loose will have no repercussions. The fools! They haven't seen those two in action! They haven't seen…" the general shut up, realizing he had already said too much. "That will be all. Dismissed."

"Aye, aye, sir," the assistant replied, and left the office, leaving a very confused general behind.

"The fools haven't changed their security system," Vicky replied as she looked through her binoculars.

"It was fortunate that we found a weapon shop willing to lend us these weapons," Sarah grinned. Vicky smiled.

"It was the fool's own fault. He should have given us what we wanted. Then we wouldn't have had to kill him."

"War includes casualties," Sarah simply stated. "What is the plan?"

"We go in, kill everybody that moves, and make way to our weapons locker. We retrieve some plasma weaponry, and kill everyone in the facility. Then we get all the weapons and explosives out of there before blowing up the complex."

"Simple. Are you sure we'll make it?"

"There is only a 25% chance that they have gotten another batch of operatives ready. If they have, it will be a little harder. If they haven't, there is an 90% chance of success."

"Right. I'm ready, sir," Sarah said, racking back the sled on her M16A1 rifle.

Vicky readied her own M16, and nodded. "Begin assault."

The two girls ran for the front gate, shooting as soon as they had jumped up. The six guards fell to the automatic weapons fire of the two M16's. Vicky pulled the pin out of a grenade, and threw it at the gate. By the time the two operatives got there, there was only molten metal where the gate used to be.

At least thirty heavily armed soldiers burst through the front gate of the complex itself. However, they were met by automatic weapons fire, and all fell without having landed a single bullet on Vicky or Sarah. Years of training under the most trying of circumstances had forged two warriors capable of doing almost anything. They had fought in jungles, deserts, the arctic, on and under water. Thirty soldiers were nothing when faced with such overwhelming odds. Both girls ejected their empty clips, rammed in full ones, and racked back the sled. They sped forward once more.

The two stormed through the front gate, directly towards the airlock sealing off their weapons locker. Alarms blared and red lights flashed, indicating that the facility was under attack, but the few soldiers actually brave enough to face them were easily dispatched.

Five minutes after Vicky had given the sign to attack, she and her companion were inside the airlock, cycling trough the program to open the internal door. When they got inside, both girls stopped.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, her voice hoarse.

"Im…impossible!" Vicky grunted, looking around as stunned as her friend. "Where are they?"

"Don't you think…"? Sarah began. She broke off as she looked at Vicky's face. In the two years she had fought alongside the elder girl, she had never seen a look like this…and it scared her. What would cause a level one genetically engineered operative, forged and trained under combat conditions, to have a look of pure hatred on her face?

Resolute, Vicky walked into the armor room, as barren and deserted as the weapons room. As she entered the room, Vicky pulled the pins out of two grenades, and threw them at the door leading to the lab. Sarah ducked behind the wall, but Vicky remained standing there. She just averted her face at the detonation. The dust hadn't completely settled yet, when Vicky let out a war cry that sent cold shivers down Sarah's spine, and ran full-speed into the laboratory. The surprised scientists never knew what hit them.

Most were killed in the first few seconds. The rest, coming to see what the racket was, were dispatched as soon as they opened the door.

"Dear God," Sarah muttered as she entered the lab. This looks like a war-zone, she thought. Then, she remembered Vicky's words…this was war. Sarah's emotions hid themselves, and Sarah began stocking up on the weapons her commander had discovered in a storage facility not far form the lab.

"Ready?" Vicky asked her companion.

Sarah pulled back the slide on her X-12 magneto-accelerator gun. "Ready," she responded.

Both killers swept through the science facility, dispatching of the remaining scientists. After doing so, they calmly walked to the airlock sealing off this place from the rest of the complex. They walked like they were just strolling in a park somewhere, not minding the metallic smell of blood, and the look of blood and innards splattered over the walls, ceilings, and floors. They had walked through worse.

Vicky cycled the airlock, allowing them to enter. Before she entered the second cycle, to open the outside door, she checked her weapons, and asked, "Ready?"

Sarah dipped her head. "Ready," she said, getting ready to fight. The second cycle started. The outer door opened, and the fourteen-year-old and the eight-year-old burst out into the hallway. It was devoid of human life. Covering each other, they prepared to execute a search pattern through the much larger outer facility of Section X.

"Captain. Lieutenant. What do you think you're doing?" General Perkins' voice came from around the corner.

Vicky answered, "You drew first blood. You declared war. We're here to finish it. Show yourself, and prepare to be taken prisoner of war."

"You know just as well as I do that the Geneva Convention won't protect me," Perkins responded.

"You trained us well," Vicky responded. "War has no rules, and any attempt to make rules should be ignored," she quoted directly from one of the earliest texts she had been given on warfare.

"Then you're not surprised if I don't surrender myself?" Perkins asked.

"I am not. Contrary to you, I never underestimate my opponents. Sun Tzu said: 'Know thy enemy and know thyself, and victory shall follow'. He was right."

General Perkins swallowed hard. Her mind had been trained as well as her body, and he knew that Vicky was truly unstoppable so long as she had Sarah with her.

"Lieutenant, if you stop now, I promise you will not be treated harshly," he tried his last gambit.

"Right. And if I don't believe that, you'll promise me the Easter Bunny next," Sarah responded. "I have seen too much to believe in fairy tales."

Presently, General Perkins knew why Sarah had waited some time to answer. He felt the cold barrel of a rifle pointed at him. Vicky had run around, sneaking up on him from behind. He hurriedly dropped his weapon. They truly make a formidable team, General Perkins thought. Section X should be proud…for the few moments that it still has to be proud.

"You will tell us what we need to know. Why were those two third-gens sent after us?" Vicky barked at him, Sarah now approaching from the other side.

"You know I can't…" he began.

"I have logged over 500 hours in pain-threshold training. I know how to inflict pain without damage. I suggest you squeal. Because you will squeal like a pig when I start."

Perkins gulped again. He looked from the fourteen-year-old to the eight-year-old, and back to the fourteen-year-old. He found no mercy in either's eyes.

"Rai-Raines…he wanted you, so he had two third-gens sent after you, to acquire you for the Centre…" Perkins stuttered.

"Thank you," Vicky said, coldly shooting him in the forehead, point-blank range. When his body hit the ground, she shot him again. "Let's clear this place. It gives me the creeps."

For the next hour, the two warriors slid through the halls, dispatching of any remaining personnel. There were not many people left after the initial confrontation, but those that were still there wished they had run with the rest. Every human found alive was coldly butchered. The two wound up in front of the airlock to the weapons chamber.

"You begin loading up everything into crates," Vicky told her partner. "I'm going to get us a truck in front."

"Right," Sarah responded, entering the airlock. Vicky doubled back, going to the Section X garage. She had seen a couple of large trucks there. She knew that one of them would be able to carry everything she and her partner would need.

A couple of hours later, the large truck pulled out of the Section X parking lot. Except for the busted main gate, and the remains of the soldiers lying outside, the complex looked peaceful. As the truck pulled up on the open road, Vicky halted their progress. Both girls looked out of the window, at the large complex.

Together, the two girls used their enormous mental powers. Neither of them liked to use them, as they believed it made them soft, and detonated the complex. In an enormous explosion everything they knew, everything they had taken for granted, went down to Hell with the rest of the personnel they had dispatched.

"So, what do we do for a living now?" Sarah asked.

"I've transferred 150 million U.S. dollars from Section X to a secret account on the Cayman Islands. I don't think money's going to be a problem. I think boredom will be."

"I agree," Sarah reluctantly said. "We could become soldiers of fortune or assassins or something. That would keep the boredom at bay, and give us a chance to keep in shape as well."

Vicky nodded. "Good thinking. Now, we need someplace to stash our loot while we get organized."

"Right," Sarah said, leaning back into the plush chair of the truck, now pulling out into the dusk. Whatever the future brought, Sarah knew that she would remain at the side of her friend and commander, Vicky.

Zells fumed. For a full month the Destroyers had left him on that planet. Thirty full days of suffering from the mental and emotional scars Frederic had inflicted on him. Before, it had been a job he had been sent to do, then it gradually became something personal, but now it had become a full-blown obsession.

"ZELLS!" the dark baritone of his commander, the First, barked. A flaming circle had appeared in the middle of the room, a face floating in the center of it. The face was hidden under a dark hood, making the figure unidentifiable. Zells turned towards the figure.

"Yes, Milord?"

"Our patience is growing thin, Zells. We actually had to retrieve you from that planet, and heal the wounds the Phalanx had inflicted upon your mind. And formidable wounds they were! But, your punishment has been served."

"Yes, Milord. Thank you. I will not fail you again! I swear I will be victorious!"

"SEE THAT YOU DO! THAT PHALANX HAS GOT TO GO!"

Zells stood up as straight as he could. "I swear my life to it, Milord. He will die, or I will die trying!"

The First nodded. "So be it," he barked, and disappeared. The circle died out, leaving Zells alone in the room. Zells turned around, and walked out of the room. He didn't feel at all concerned about what he had just done.

I'll need allies. Powerful allies. Thank to the unlimited funds of the Destroyers, I have a new army, and a new base of operations, but those things are worthless against someone like that bastard. I can't ask the Destroyers for more help…they sent me one of their own, for Christ's sake! And he was dispatched. Not easily, but he had been dispatched. And that bastard had actually managed to get his bitch back too! I don't know how, but he got her back! I HATE that guy! I pledged my soul to the Destroyers, receiving unlimited wealth and power in return, and they ask for one measly little thing in return. Kill this kid. I try and try, and that kid remains alive! Dammit!

"Get me every soldier of fortune, and every assassin for hire you can find!" Gordon Zells barked at one of his underlings. The man snapped at attention, and ran to do what he was bid.

Vicky was typing away on the computer by the time Sarah woke up. Having expended her energy by blowing up the Centre yesterday, Sarah required more than her usual 5 hours of sleep. Vicky, on the other hand, had more experience, and could come by just fine.

"Good morning," she said to the typing form.

"Morning," came the reply.

"Work?" Sarah asked.

"Yep," Vicky responded.

"Anyone we know?"

"Anonymous," Vicky responded crisply.

"Right. How anonymous?"

"Really anonymous. But not for much longer. If I can just determine this carrier…there! Got it! Now all I have to do is trace its source… there! It's from…a Gordon Zells."

"Gordon Zells? Never heard of him. What does he want?"

"He's offering 100,000 dollars for us to show up at his gathering in a week."

"Just to show up?" Sarah's voice was doubtful.

"My thoughts exactly. I'm performing a background check on Zells. Military, public service records, employment records, police records, tax records, anything."

"Any luck so far?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Sarah nearly screamed.

"This guy is good, I have to hand him that. But I will find something. Broadening search to include death and birth records."

Sarah let the fuming girl alone with the computer, and fixed herself some breakfast. With the enormous amounts of money stolen from section X, she and Vicky had this mansion built, complete with secret escapes, trapdoor, and secret compartments for all their weapons and equipment. The house was sheathed in a Faraday cage, and had a full-scale nuclear bomb shelter for a cellar. It was stocked with enough food and water to survive for years in there.

The house itself was state-of-the-art, equipped with video surveillance, and had the very latest in every field: air conditioning, materials, bulletproof glass, and so on. Plus, it had been co-designed by Vicky and Sarah, to give the house a superior tactical advantage; because of what they were doing they knew that the police might show up at some day.

"Got it!" Vicky screamed to Sarah. Sarah set out a dash to the living room.

"What have we got?" Sarah asked.

"He was born," Vicky sarcastically said. "And apparently, he also died."

"A cover personality? Damn, he's good!"

"A better than I am," Vicky grunted. "Without a picture of him, there is no way I can do a visual search. DAMN! This stinks!"

"Maybe we should check out the place first, to see if it's a trap or not," Sarah suggested.

"We could do that… I'll let Gordon know that we'll be accepting his invitation," Vicky said, smiling to herself for including the man's name, even though she shouldn't know about it. She hoped it would make him nervous.

One week later, the two girls were on their little scout trip. Vicky and Sarah were flat on their stomachs, looking through their night-vision binoculars at the building where they were supposed to meet Zells. Vicky had hidden two swords in her long coat, giving both girls an extra sense of security. Not many people knew how to deal with a sword-threat. Two big guards stood in front of the building, admitting people into the building. The two girls could see individuals, or small bands of people being admitted into the hall, but they didn't know more than that. So, they scouted the neighborhood, and found it all perfectly normal. No extra police, no undercover officers, nothing.

"This looks legit," Vicky said. "I don't trust it," she added.

"Me either," Sarah agreed.

So, they checked the building itself out, and once more, came up empty-handed. There was nothing to suggest a trap. Feeling a little uncomfortable, they walked up to the main doors, and were stopped by the beefy guards.

"This is no place for young girls," the first one said.

"But we have…"

"Come on, move along now," the second guard urged, a little more impatiently than his partner.

"Our invitations," Vicky said to the guards.

"Those are probably some mistake," the first guard said. "We haven't invited…"

Vicky and Sarah drew at the same time. Both guards fell at the same time. In broad daylight, they had just double-tapped two guards with silenced .44's, and neither of them felt concerned. They just picked up the guards, entered the building, and threw them into the hall as soon as they were inside.

"Who's the boss of those two pieces of shit?" Vicky yelled. "They wouldn't allow us entrance."

The present people looked strangely at the fourteen-year-old and the eight-year-old. Both had their guns out, ready for anything.

"I am…" Zells began.

"You are Zells, Gordon?" Vicky's icy voice asked.

Oh, my. She's deadly. I wonder where she learned that…and her little companion looks just as deadly. Zells thought. Too bad I don't have unlimited clearance, like in 001, but I don't dare to show my face there. Last time, I barely made it out alive.

"I am," Zells nodded. To his surprise, a bullet hole appeared right in between his feet.

"You should train your troops better," Vicky lectured him. "We will let it pass for this one time. Next time, we will punish every one of your acquaintances here," she added, letting her gaze travel across the room. She saw a lot of deadly people, but she had seen a lot worse during her time in the Cambodian jungle. Many of the people present were deadly in their own way. They all had killed and fought, but most of them had never encountered anyone like those two. Maybe it was because both should still be in school, not looking like warriors from Hell, but most of them felt at least some caution in regards to Vicky and Sarah.

Zells retreated, waiting for the rest of his guests to arrive. He had already made up his mind who he wanted, but it could never hurt to wait for everyone to arrive.

When everyone had arrived, Zells took the stand.

"You have all been invited here to listen to a job offer," Zells began. Basically, he wanted a small group of assassins who would do his dirty work for him. he would pay ten million dollars a year, but that included that those who took the job couldn't do any other jobs. They would be required to live close to Zells' base, and some other rules were explained.

"I realize that this is a big decision, but you will be required to decide now. For those for you who want to accept the position, please exit to the right room. For those of you who want to go home, please go through the left. Your $100,000 will be deposited by the time you arrive home."

Vicky looked at Sarah. Assassination jobs were the most jobs they had to do for Section X, and here they would be paid for it. Both nodded once, and walked to the right room. They found out that only ten others were there as well.

"I guess that the job offer isn't too appealing," Vicky muttered.

"Most people don't like being told where to live," Sarah answered. They spent ten minutes looking over the other people, cataloging them as above-average for normals, but still completely harmless to them. Finally, Zells entered the room.

"Thank you for accepting our position," Zells began. "Your first job will be to get rid of the people in the left room."

Vicky and Sarah nodded, opened the door, and walked briskly across the now empty main hall.

"Are you sure we should be taking out those people like this?" Sarah asked.

"We're Zells' soldiers now, Sarah. This is just like Section X. The only difference is that we get paid for this now," Vicky replied. Sarah nodded, and mentally prepared herself for war. Her emotions hid themselves, and her face turned stone-cold, just like her older companion's did mere moment ago.

The ten other people just gaped at Zells, then to the two retreating backs, then back at Zells.

"Are you insane, man? Kill the people who refuse?" one man yelled.

"Yes. And if you don't want to end up the same way, I suggest you go do your jobs, before the two schoolgirls do it for you." The fire of semi-automatic guns interrupted their conversation. Shortly after the gunshots, a short fit of barking laughter followed. Then, pleas for mercy and screams of pain pierced the air, sending shivers down the spines of everyone present. Barely five minutes after they had walked out of the right room, Vicky and Sarah returned, their bloodied swords still out of their sheaths. Blood, intestines, and various other internal things were plainly visible on the two girls.

"Is there a shower here? And some place were we can clean our swords?" Vicky asked. Zells gaped along with the others, and then started laughing.

"Oh, my! You two are great! You will do very, very nicely! Now, as to the shower, come this way," his voice boomed, and his arm made an inviting motion to the same door he had originally appeared from.

"Oh, but first, could you get rid of these rejects?" he asked, turning around casually.

Vicky and Sarah gave a curt nod, switched their minds back into 'war mode', turned toward the other men present, and attacked. Both executed complicated martial arts techniques, their swords flashing death like lighting over the heads of the present people. Blood, brains, internal organs, severed limbs, and various other body parts were scattered all over the room. Being cooked up in their home without actual physical combat for some time had made Vicky and Sarah especially vicious. The first few people never knew what hit them, but the others attempted to draw guns. The few that actually got them out, found their hands chopped off, right before their heads.

Zells looked at the carnage. He had to duck to barely avoid getting hit by a flying head, but he couldn't avoid the blood that splattered all around the small room. His designer suit went from blue to a deep black with blood. Vicky and Sarah stood in the middle of the carnage, blood dripping from their forms, and their swords. Now Zells knew why he had heard screams and pleas from the other room: once a man's hands are cut off, he's defenseless, not to mention in a lot of pain.

"The showers are right this way," Zells said, as if the display he had just witnessed was nothing.

Vicky and Sarah, both having fought an especially viscous war in the Cambodian jungle, had actually seen worse, and were therefore not affected either.

"And arrange for some ammunition for our guns," Vicky said to Zells. "Our swords will get dull if we keep using them like that."

Zells nodded, telling the two girls that ammo wouldn't be a problem. He let the girl's words sink in. Our swords will get dull if we keep using them like that, he thought. Nothing on 'this is too hard', or 'we're not used to this'. She just stated that they have no problems whatsoever fighting with swords only, but that the SWORDS CAN'T KEEP UP WITH THEM. Dear God…those two are deadly. And they're all MINE!

Zells chuckled inward as the two girls disappeared into the bathroom. He waited outside, telling them that he would personally lead them around their new home. While he waited, he mentally replayed the events of earlier that day.

Without a glint of emotion, Vicky and Sarah had butchered ten people. People who had two, three times the amount of experience the girls had, men who were among the deadliest people on the planet. And when it was all over…Zells shuddered. They just stood there, after butchering ten men, like they had just walked in the park. He had no idea what those two had gone through, who had trained them, or WHERE in hell they came from. He just knew that he could count his blessings that they were on his side.

Vicky and Sarah emerged from the bathroom looking as if they had done nothing out of the ordinary. Zells was astonished. He knew his suit was ruined because of the blood, but here stood those two girls, with not a drip of blood on them or their clothes!

"How…," he began.

"Oh, our clothes are waterproof," Vicky said. "Blood adheres to it, but it comes off quite easily with water."

"Ah," was all Zells could say. Blood-proof clothing? Who TRAINED those two?

"So, uhm, if you don't mind me asking, uhm… who trained you?" Zells asked.

"Section X," Vicky responded.

Carefully, Zells thought. One wrong move, and you're toast. He looked at the swords, dangling from both of Vicky's hips. It was quite obvious that Sarah couldn't carry hers around comfortably, so Vicky carried it for her. Or shish kebab, Zells added after shooting a final look at the swords.

"So, uhm…"

Vicky interrupted him. "If you want to ask something, pose the question in a clear voice, matter-of-factly. Do not hesitate, or stutter. You have nothing to fear from us," she said. Yet. She added silently

Zells swallowed nervously. "Why are you no longer working for Section X? What did they do anyway?" Zells had to throw every ounce of his strength into not stuttering, or hesitating. Vicky's voice had made it quite clear she didn't like weak people, and he had presented himself very weak during his earlier questions. He made damn sure he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"Section X has been terminated, as was their employer at the time, The Centre. They attempted to retire us. We did not consent. Section X did those missions nobody else wanted, or could, do. We took out drug-lords, assassinated tyrants, fought guerrilla wars, and so on," Vicky said. Sarah closed her eyes briefly at the memories of the Cambodian jungle as Vicky brought up 'guerrilla wars'.

"I see," Zells said. Now I know… This Section X has raised those two to do society's dirty work. And when Section X wanted to get rid of them, they decided to wage war. And won.

"Was it easy?" he asked.

"Explain," Vicky stated.

"To go to war on your old employer."

"You wish to know if I would do the same to you. If you were so stupid as to attack us, there is not a question about it that you would die, your people would die, and your buildings and your possessions would be destroyed. As to Section X, I was wounded at the time. The decision was Sarah's to get me to safety. After three weeks recuperation and evaluation, I decided they drew first blood. They all died," Vicky said with a voice cold as ice.

"I wouldn't turn on you," he said. Certainly not now that I know you can recuperate in three weeks from a wound serious enough to have an eight-year-old get you to safety without you knowing about it.

"See that you don't," Vicky said.

Zells shook his head. "I won't. Now, let me show you our complex." He guided them to a car. "This building will be destroyed in a couple of hours. It was purchased only for this meeting," Zells explained as the three got into the car. He was startled when the two girls positioned themselves so they could see him at all times. Vicky was leaning against the door, while Sarah was leaning against the intersection of the back seat with the back door. Both kept their eyes trained on Zells as he drove.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because we do not trust you," Sarah responded. It was the first time Zells had hear her speak, and he was startled to hear that her voice was every bit as cold and deadly as her companion's was.

Never ask a question you don't want to hear the answer to, Zells thought. "Fair enough," he responded.

Vicky walked down the hallway of Dimension Hall, Zells' super-secret facility built on an uninhabited parallel Earth. Supplies were brought in through a dimensional portal, technology Zells had stolen from someone he kept referring to as either 'The Brat', or 'Fred'. He used more colorful expressions at times, but those were exceptions to the rule.

Vicky halted in front of a door, guarded by two men of obvious physical strength.

"I have an appointment," Vicky said, reached for the handle. The men knew better than to stop her. Too many guards had been…inconvenienced in one way or another, ranging from ripped off limbs to termination of their life-signs.

"Zells," Vicky said, coming at attention in front of his desk. No matter what, she would not refer to him by anything but his name. In her eyes, Zells was a weasel, not worthy of her respect. She had respected General Perkins, right up to the end, when she shot him. He had looked death in the ye bravely, and accepted his fate. Perkins was a man worthy of her respect and loyalty. Zells was not. She only obeyed him because he paid handsomely, and it gave her the opportunity to keep her skills sharp.

"Ah, Vicky," Zells greeted her, getting up from behind his desk. "I have a very special mission for you."

Vicky just cocked hr head. She refused to ask. If he wants something, he can ask me, she thought. Gordon Zells could do almost no good in her eyes. There were not many days her respect for him didn't go down a notch or two.

"We have captured an agent of The Brat. I want you to interrogate him."

"What is the info I require?"

"Bases, installations, whereabouts of Fred and his bitch."

"Ah, yes. The illusive Frederic, and his wife Jennifer," Vicky nodded. "That all?"

"Start with those," Zells said dismissively, and turned back to his desk.

Vicky nodded, turned, and walked briskly out of the door. She set a brisk pace when walking to the holding cells, making a detour to get Sarah. Because of the tremendous limitations to her mental powers, both she and Sarah were unable to get information out of someone's mind. They could control a mind only by using the mental amplifier, but reading minds was not part of their make-up.

"Mission parameters?" Sarah asked as she and Vicky walked down the hall to the holding cells.

"Extraction of enemy information from a captive operative. Intel includes whereabouts of the commander and his wife, location of bases and installations."

"Is that all?" Sarah asked.

"We are requested to start with those," Vicky said.

"I understand," Sarah said. She too, began to dislike the man they were working for.

Both girls walked into the holding cell area, a dark and damp building at the outer edge of Dimension Hall. It consisted of a long pathway, lined on each side by five floors of holding cells. The floors each had their own problems. The upper two levels were baking in the sun during the day, and freezing at night. The bottom two levels had no sunlight whatsoever, the cells constructed so they were plunged in eternal darkness, but at least they had a constant temperature. The middle cells had both a little sunlight and a more comfortable temperature. So, to compensate for that, they got half rations of food and water.

Vicky detested the cell area, with its constant smell of human filth, the screams of people who had lost rational thought, and the dark and humid conditions. Frankly, she did not understand why people would be incarcerated in the first place. Why didn't Zells just shoot these people? Vicky understood the need to extract information from enemy operatives, but she did not understand why people who had done nothing but get into a fight were locked up for a couple of years in here. If they broke the law, why not just terminate them? Hanging is cheap, effective, clean, and provides no problems such as insanity.

Vicky walked to the back, and took a right turn. The two guards at the door jumped out of the way. The Deadly Duo, as they were known among the guards, just walked through the door into the high-security area. Vicky and Sarah halted in front of the first door on the left.

"Anderson, Andreas. You are required to answer our questions," Vicky said as she and Sarah were allowed in.

The man, who had obviously been beaten, just sat on his cot, looking his most deadly stare at the two girls. He was surprised, sure, to see two girls walk into his cell. But still, he wouldn't say a thing. The mental dampener that had been crudely implanted was plainly visible behind his right ear.

"Mr. Anderson. I have logged 500 hours in pain-threshold training. I can make you suffer beyond measure, and there would not be a scratch on you. I do not like inflicting pain. Please, give me the location of your bases, installations, and tell me where I can find your supreme commander and his wife," Vicky asked in a normal tone of voice.

The man just grunted, and turned his head away.

"Very well," Vicky said. Her voice had taken on the deadly complexion it always got when she switched her mind into combat mode, her emotions hidden deep in her subconscious. Her one hand reached out, grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, and easily lifted him from the cot. Carrying the man like an over-sized cat carried her young, she walked down the hall of the cell area. Where screams had been audible before, the area was now submerged in an eerie quiet, everyone knowing the importance of seeing a fourteen-your-old carry a man twice her size by the scruff of his neck without flinching.

Vicky threw the man inside the interrogation room. It was heavily soundproofed, and contained everything she would need. She had ordered the equipment herself, after all.

Sarah opened a cupboard, and took out a pair of heavy-duty handcuffs, linked by a thick chain, while Vicky covered the captured man. As Sarah returned, Vicky took the chains from her, cuffed Andreas, and effortlessly lifted the chain over a hook that had been screwed into the ceiling. The man was now standing erect, his hands outstretched above him, but not completely so. He was standing but reasonably comfortable. With a flick of the switch, Vicky closed the hook, trapping the chain inside.

"I will ask you one last time. Please tell me the location of your bases, your installations, and the location of your supreme commander and his wife," Vicky asked. However, her continuous preparations indicated that she did not expect him to talk, which he didn't.

"I though as much," Vicky said, standing in front of the man, and pointed a hose at him. he looked strangely at her.

"Strip him," Vicky told her companion. Sarah took the sword dangling from Vicky's left hip, unsheathed it, and proceeded toward the man. Because of the slack on the chain, he tried to get away from the small eight-year-old, who was now advancing with the dangerous-looking weapon in held tight in both her small hands.

"Stand still, or this will hurt," Sarah said. Andreas gulped, and looked helplessly at the small girl. Since he had been here, he had been beaten, starved, deprived of sleep, but never had he felt the fear he felt now, looking at this eight-year-old with the sword. He stood perfectly still as Sarah let out a piercing cry, and swung the sword from left to right, up and down, diagonally, and made a lot of movements Andreas couldn't even see. Moments later, the girl turned around, and walked back to Vicky.

Sarah sheathed the sword, and put it back on Vicky's left hip. Andreas looked confused at the two of them. He was still wearing his clothes. He looked down, and yes, he could still see them. Then, slowly, he could hear a tearing sound. Growing in intensity, Andreas could see his clothes tearing themselves apart. Five seconds later, the last remnants of his clothing hit the ground.

Vicky was still looking at him, her hose pointed in his direction. All kinds of thoughts spooked through Andreas' mind, all of them concerning what would come out of the hose. His mind went from acid, to boiling water, to all kinds of nasty stuff.

"Mr. Anderson. Let me tell you a little about myself," Vicky began, calmly walking around the man, holding the hose pointed at him. "I was born and raised in Section X. I was trained to be a soldier, a mercenary, a black operations operative." Vicky finished her first circle, and now doubled back, as to not to entwine the hose.

"They trained me to both withstand pain, and to inflict it," Vicky continued with her calm voice. Andreas looked at the girl, frightened out of his mind. Vicky's psychological torture was already doing its magic. Andreas was thinking worse and worse about what could come out of the hose.

A person's worst enemy is his own fear. Vicky had been taught. Let his fear consume him alive. Most of the time, you won't have to lay a finger on the subject. Of course, in you, we work quite hard to remove this fear from you.

"We used to start quite simply," Vicky went on, "with a bath."

"A BATH?" Andreas screamed. Vicky smiled. The fear was doing its magic on Andreas' mind.

"Yes. A bath. This water is a couple of degrees below freezing. It is kept constantly in motion, so it won't freeze," Vicky said. She pointed the hose downward, opened it, and let the water poor out. She held her left hand in the stream, feeling to see if the water was at its correct temperature yet. When it was, she pointed the hose at Andreas.

He screamed and hissed as the literally ice-cold water ran down his skin. It was cold, but not cold enough to cause burn marks. After all, it wasn't ice. When Andreas calmed down a bit, Vicky turned off the hose.

"There. That wasn't too bad, was it?" she asked. She reached out to feel his skin. It was cold.

Andreas struggled for breath like a fish on dry land. "No," he croaked.

"Glad you think so," Vicky said, smiling at him. She took a second hose. "It has earned you a reward. This hose contains nice, warm water. Thirty-five degrees Celsius. Most people set their showers for this temperature." Without warning, she turned the hose on, spraying Andreas with it. His skin, first cooled down with the ice-cold water, now registered the warm water as searing hot. Andreas screamed out as if he were boiled alive.

When the screaming subsided, Vicky smiled at the man. "I knew you'd like it."

Andreas' voice was hoarse. "I won't tell," he said.

"That is unfortunate," Vicky said. She reached for a small table, and pulled it up so Andreas could see it. On the table were a couple of syringes. Vicky took one containing a bright red liquid. Without further delay, she walked around, and plunged the syringe in his butt. Andreas let out a gasp at the sudden penetration. She withdrew the needle just as fast.

"It will keep you from passing out due to the pain," Vicky told him. "Now, this second one contains the first level of a pain-stimulation drug. Every breeze will feel like a tornado, cold will feel like freezing, warm will feel like boiling. Every nerve in your body will be hyper-sensitive."

Andreas' eyes went wide open. He had not expected chemical warfare. He could take normal pain, but chemically enhanced pain? He gritted his teeth, and knew he would do his damned finest to thwart this bitch's efforts.

"Good," Vicky said, grinning. "You're a fine example, Mr. Anderson. You refuse to give in to the fear. I admire that. Now, let's begin." Without delays, she plunged the needle in the first artery she encountered, which happened to be the major artery in his left leg. Almost immediately, Andreas' leg felt as if it were on fire. He gasped and struggled as the sensation expanded to engulf his entire body.

Vicky allowed a few minutes for Andreas to get used to the enhanced sensations. "If this is how you feel without stimulation, imagine how you feel WITH stimulation?" Vicky's sugar-sweet voice asked. Andreas grunted.

"Good! You know, my personal record is 15 hours before I cracked. By that time, I would have taken the fifth level shot, and I would be burned and frozen alternatively. No more water for me, Mr. Anderson. Real flames, and real ice!"

Andreas looked at the girl, tears forming in his eyes. "Of course, by that time, I was catatonic, and couldn't remember my own name," she added, flashing a smile. "My point is, Mr. Anderson, that there are some people who would rather risk psychological implosion than tell what they know. But, there are people like me who are so well-trained that the subject never risks implosion."

Andreas grunted again. Vicky reached for the first hose, and Andreas started whimpering as she pointed it at him. He remember the searing cold. He couldn't imagine how it would feel with his chemically enhanced nerves. She opened it up, and Andreas forgot all about his resolve to try and scream as little as possible. He screamed, yelled, cursed, pleaded, but refused to tell what the girls wanted to know.

"You're stronger than most, Mr. Anderson," Vicky told him. She reached for the warm water hose. Now he pleaded before she opened it, the warm air already enough to have intense burning sensations course through his body.

"Please, don't! My lady please, don't do it! I beg of you! I'll do anything! Please, don't do it! No more! I can't take it…PLEASE!"

"Then tell me," Vicky almost felt sorry for the man. She had expected so much.

"I…I…I can't. I don't know where they are."

Vicky sighed. "I had hoped you would finally cooperate, Mr. Anderson," she said, sounding really disappointed. If Sarah didn't know any better, she would have believed Vicky genuinely wanted Andreas to cooperate. Vicky opened the warm-water hose.

Zells looked up from the paperwork he was looking at. Was that a scream? Carefully, he got up, walked around the desk, and opened the door. He peered outside.

"Hey, you! Did you hear that?" he asked the first underling he saw.

"Yes, sir. It came from the interrogation room," the man responded, his voice tinged with the respect Zells wanted from everybody. All except for Vicky and Sarah.

Zells nodded, and returned back into his office. The interrogation room? We can hold a disco in there and no one would hear it. Damn, I wouldn't want to be Anderson right now.

As another scream sounded, Zells sighed. He got up, and made his way for the supply room. He needed a headphone to block the sound.

Vicky looked at the man who was now slumping in the chains. He was struggling to get his legs back under his body to take the strain off his arms, but so far, he was failing miserably.

"Talk," was all Vicky said.

"No," Andreas grunted.

"Continue," Vicky told her partner. Sarah gave a curt nod, and lit a cigarette lighter. "We told you we wouldn't inflict wounds," Vicky said to the man, "but this one will hurt like Hell, and you'll think we're burning you alive on the stake."

Sarah brought the little flame close to Andreas' body, just enough for the heat of it to transmit to his chemically enhanced nerve endings. For the third time, Vicky and Sarah thanked Section X for their strong ears. Both were sure they would be deaf by now otherwise. Vicky gave a curt sign with her hand, and Sarah clicked off the lighter.

"Talk," Vicky said again.

"N…o," Andreas groaned, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Very well. Sarah?"

The girl nodded, flicked the lighter, and brought the flame in closer. Andreas' vision clouded over as the searing heat of the flame shot through his body. He was not aware that he was screaming; yet he did so. He was not aware that his body was convulsing, yet it did so. Andreas never saw Vicky's hand sign, but he did feel the pain of the flame slowly die out. His body gave a couple more spasms, and his throat started feeling like it was raw.

Then, he felt the searing pain of his screams. What normal people experience as a raw throat, Andreas experienced as if it had been dragged a couple times over a rasp.

"Talk," Vicky said.

Andreas just shook his head, his throat refusing to operate. Vicky knew she could press on, but that would risk psychological implosion. And if that happened, she would never get the information she wanted. So, she took a small syringe, and injected the clear liquid. Andreas felt his boy relax, as he drifted into blissful unconsciousness. Vicky and Sarah removed the man from the hook, and threw him on the simple bed in the corner of the interrogation room. After chaining him to the wall, the bed, and the floor, Vicky and Sarah left the room.

 

"You've been at him for a week now!" Zells shouted. "SEVEN days! And still you have nothing to show for yourself! Do you know that the Brat is close on my heels? He doesn't take kindly to me kidnapping people from his organization. I need to information, and I need it now! I don't care what you do, but you'll give me what I want!"

"Mr. Zells, you do not pay me nearly enough to go to the next level. Now, you either wait until I break him, or you can have a go at him yourself. But, I assure you, you will not get anything from him," Vicky voice was ice cold.

"What's the next level?" Zells wanted to know.

"We have given him pain. The next level contains pleasure."

"Pleasure?" Zells asked dumb.

"Sexual pleasure," Vicky elaborated.

Understanding came over Zells' face. A-ah! That explains why I don't pay her enough. "I see," he answered. "I'll multiply your fees by ten. Now, hop to it!"

Vicky dipped her head. "Very well. See you later," she said, and got up. Sarah did the same. Without so much as another look, they left Zells' office. Gordon Zells remained behind, seething, staring angrily at the door.

Andreas Anderson expected to be rudely dragged from the bed any minute now. It had been that way yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that…How long had he been here? Andreas didn't remember. He would be rudely awaked by a needle jammed in his left arm, probably containing more of the pain amplifier, and after a couple of seconds, the pains and aches that have been plaguing his body would become major aches. The next thing he would know, a bucket of freezing water would be dumped all over his body. To Andreas, it felt as if he had been frozen alive.

He would be given breakfast, consisting out of a vile cocktail Vicky claimed 'possessed everything he needed to survive', and then he would be hung on the hook again. His stiff muscles would protest loudly, and the pain amplifier would cause him to scream his freshly healed throat raw again. The rest of the day would be one pain after another. How far had he gone now? First, the red liquid. Bad, hurts like Hell, but not very damaging. Then, he blue liquid. Level two. Double pain compared to the red liquid. Still, not very damaging. Then, the green liquid. Just the color sent fear course through his body. The very beating of his heart would cause him pain.

Every breath he took, every beat of his heart, the simple feeling of his bare feet on the naked floor would cause him pain. His brain was clouded with the raw intensity of the memory, but still something poked through. Vicky could take it up to the fifth level. How?

So, Andreas expected the same treatment as the other days. What he didn't expect was Vicky, made up like a princess, with a beautiful dress, entering the room with a look on her face that melted his heart. She pushed a table, covered with a white sheet. Ever since his capture, he had shielded his emotions. Now, seeing the young beauty standing there, smiling gently at him, it slammed right through most of his shields. Her words shattered the rest.

"Hello there," she said seductively. Vicky was well aware that she was attractive. And she knew how to play the opposite sex. Her black hair had been treated carefully, giving it a glossy shine. With the careful appliance of make-up, and the careful selection of what to wear, Vicky looked fit to win any beauty contest. By using what she had been taught at Section X, she had instantly changed Andreas' heart. Every man would be attracted to her. But, only a man like Andreas, who had gone through Hell itself, would instantly fall for her.

"Come on. Let me take those chains off you," Vicky said gently. Andreas gasped as he felt the blood return to his hands and feet, and carefully rubbed the feeling back into them. Without the pain amplifier, it wasn't too bad.

"Come. Let's have breakfast," she said. When he tried to speak, she seductively put her finger on his lips. "Don't speak. Save your throat. It's been through enough."

He gave a gentle nod, and was grateful as she helped him to his feet. Somewhere, in the back of his mind; he expected the pain of his feet on the floor, but it all felt normal. He looked at the beauty supporting him as they walked to the table. She had pulled up two chairs, and carefully set Andreas down in one of them. As she removed the white sheet, Andreas immediately attacked the food displayed. After surviving for…for…how long had it been? Andreas couldn't care less as he attacked the steak, fries, the salad, everything he could get his hands on.

After he finished, he thought of Vicky, and his face got real apologetic…but now that his stomach was full, his thoughts more or less returned to normal.

"Why?" was all he asked.

"I am trying to be nice to you. I feel so bad about what Zells made me do… I hate that man! But he…but he…made me do it", Vicky knew how to act. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her face in her hands. Much to Andreas' surprise, he actually felt sorry for her.

"How?"

"He held <sob> my other sister <sob> captive," Vicky sobbed. "But I managed to free <sob> her, and now, now I'm trying to make it up <sob>"

Andreas felt his heart twinge. He felt for the girl. The smaller girl that had helped her had obviously been the un-captured sister. "But then, why are you still here?"

"I <sob> told you. I want to <sob> make it up to you. Please let me!" she cried.

Andreas got up on his unsteady legs, went around the table, and he took the crying girl in his arms. She threw herself against his chest, clung to him as if he was her father.

Andreas had foolishly said he would let the girl 'make it up to him'. Now, he gasped in pleasure as he saw her head bob up and down. Intense pleasure shot through his brain, stimulating centers he thought he would never feel again. But, as he neared release, he felt her back off.

"Oh, no, not now," he grunted. He felt her speed up again, but his release had been neatly avoided. Three minutes later, it happened again. And again. The frustration shot through his veins as it happened a fourth time.

"NO! Why???" he gasped out as it happened again. Andreas wasn't a forceful man, and even though the girl had caused him tremendous pain over the last…so many days, he wouldn't hurt her. He couldn't. Not such a divine creature that was trying her very best to make it up to him.

"Come on, honey," she whispered. "Tell me…."

Immediately, he flashed back to the days of torture behind him, when the same voice had asked him the same question, albeit in a different tone of voice. Now, the sweet 14-year-old beauty queen voice Vicky was using was working on the carnal parts of his brain, the ones that were a lot harder to control. She knew she was breaking him when she heard him gasp.

"I…I… far side of the moon," he grunted. He felt the pleasure in his manhood increase. "Dear God," he whispered. "Main command center, mobile command center, Yamato, ungh, God, that's good, oh! Oo-h! Endeavor! Ungh! That's all I know! GOD, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" he let out a loud scream as his release, denied for so long, was finally granted. Immediately, it sunk in what he had done. He saw Vicky, in her angel-like dress, her make-up a mess due to the faked tears, and wearing a satisfied smirk.

"Like a true man, you think with your dick," Vicky smirked. She pulled up her dress, and took a gun from the holster attached to her stocking. By the time Andreas had gotten his protesting muscles to work, Vicky had the gun trained on him.

"You were an excellent opponent. Very resilient. And you got my fee multiplied by ten. But, messing with the best means dying like the rest." The gun went off, but Andreas never heard the shot. His world turned to black instantly as the bullet entered his brain through his forehead, and embedded itself in the wall behind his head.

Vicky coldly looked at the corpse she had been serving mere minutes ago. She shot Andreas' crumpled manhood.

"And your dick tastes horribly," she said, pushing the cart out of the room. She gave a sign to the clean-up crew waiting outside. In a little under an hour, everything would be back the way it was, and Zells would have his precious information.

Zells was in Heaven. Finally he knew where to go look for the bases of his sworn enemy, and he sure wasn't going to waste the opportunity to try and get his hands on a battlecarrier. But first, there came a duty he was very, very apprehensive of.

"WHAT IS IT NOW, ZELLS?" the deep baritone of the First commanded.

"Milord, I have discovered the location of The Phalanx' main and mobile command bases, and the location of two battlecarriers battle carriers, namely the Yamato and the Endeavor."

"AND?"

"Milord, it has already been discovered that a normal army has no effect against that brat. I …I need help."

"WE THOUGHT SO!" the deep baritone made the walls of the room shake. The sound reverberated along Zells' spine, giving him cold shivers. "WE HAVE HELPED YOU MANY TIMES! WE HAVE GIVEN YOU DIMENSIONAL TECHNOLOGY, WE HAVE HELPED YOU WITH DARK MARAUDER, WE EVEN SENT YOU ONE OF OUR OWN!! YOU HAVE ALWAYS FAILED! TELL ME, ZELLS, WHY WOULD THIS BE ANY DIFFERENT??"

"Because now, now we have actual locations! Milord, we could capture a battlecarrier! Or even the Brat's entire command center!"

"WE WILL HELP YOU ONE LAST TIME, ZELLS. BUT BE WARNED! THE HELP WE WILL BE SUPPLYING YOU HAS BEEN ISOLATED IN A LOCKED-DOWN SUBSTRING OF THE KNOWN MULTI-VERSE. WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CONTROL OVER THIS MAN, SO DON'T COME CRYING WHEN YOU FIND YOURSELF OUT OF COMMAND."

Zells shivered. A man, who has been LOCKED DOWN in his universe? Totally out of control of the Destroyers? Dear God…

"I understand, Milord. I will ask this man for help, and destroy the brat's forces!"

"A FINAL WARNING, ZELLS: BE VERY, VERY CAREFUL WHAT YOU DO AND SAY. THIS MAN CALLS HIMSELF THE SORCERER, AND HE EXECUTES PEOPLE FOR PLEASURE. PREFERABLY WITH HIS OWN BARE HANDS."

"Thank you for the warning Milord."

"VERY WELL. WE WILL SUPPLY YOU WITH THE CORRECT COORDINATES. WE WOULD SUGGEST ONLY A SMALL DETACHMENT BE TRANSFERRED TO THIS UNIVERSE. A LARGE ARMY WILL NOT GET THE CHANCE TO NEGOTIATE."

"I understand, Milord."

"OH, AND HE'S EVEN WORSE THAN YOU ARE. THE FIRST THING HE DID WHEN HE ACQUIRED TIME-TRAVEL WAS TO GO BACK IN TIME TO HELP THE NAZIS WIN WORLD WAR II," The First said, and disappeared. Zells was shaking at those final words. He took a few minutes to compose himself, and walked out the room. He knew that the coordinates would have been loaded in the computer's database. It had been like this since the beginning.

A small detachment? I'll take the Deadly Duo with me. That should be enough. But then again, someone who was actually evil enough to HELP the Nazis during WW II? And he's acquired time-travel. Who knows what else he has done.

Vicky, Sarah, and Zells approached the large dimensional gate. Modeled after the portal plant, it featured a large ring, inside which the dimensional portal would be created. Zells was dressed in black, with black pants, black vest, and a black shirt. The gun on his right hip was black as well.

Vicky and Sarah, on the other hand, had dressed in combat clothing. Vicky was carrying two swords, as usual, with a plasma gun on each hip, and a plasma rifle over her shoulder. Sarah just carried the two guns and the rifle. Both girls also carried a backpack, containing additional ammo, rations, electronics, and various other supplies. The two packs could sustain the three people for up to two weeks.

Zells nodded to the operative, who entered the coordinates.

"Sensors show the following in that dimension," the operator called. "There are over 100 portal plants in the dimension. We have a few focal points where we can establish a stable one-portal connection."

"List of portal plants?" Zells asked. "Sir, look at these names," the operator said. "The Adolph Hitler, the Poll Pot, Djengis Khan, Attila the Hun, and the list goes n.".

"Get me onboard the ship called BS Adolf Hitler," Zells ordered.

"Yes, sir. Setting coordinates for portal plant onboard BS Adolf Hitler."

The dimensional gate let out a load groan as gigawatts worth of power was sent through it. With a load CRASH! The dimensional tunnel was formed. Zells set a brisk pace, and Vicky and Sarah fell in right behind him.

Location: BattleShip Battleship Adolf Hitler, dreadnought class, of the Earth Imperial War Fleet.

Sorcerer sat in his meditation room, drawing in the magical energies from the universe around him. His body glowed in an angry red light, and he felt the energies boiling inside him, ready to be shaped into the spells and incantations he desired. He could feel his strength returning after the tiring time-warp he had created recently.

A movie played in his head, starting back from the day he had received his gifts. He smiled in anticipation of what was to happen. He liked to see himself in action.

First, he had been appointed Phalanx, and his knowledge and power extended beyond what he had ever considered. He knew about magic, of course, and he knew how powerful it was. He had never imagined just how powerful it could be in the hands of the right person. And then the Force…he had known about the legends called the Jedi, but he had chosen not to believe them. After all, magic and science was one thing, but the Force… no. No sane man believed those children's stories to be true.

Imagine his surprise when they did turn out to be true, and he could control the Force in all its facets. He had known something was wrong the moment he had transformed. A tremor in the back of his mind, telling him to be careful. He had ignored it. After all, he was a scientist, someone who believed in what he could see and feel, like magic, science, and now, the Force. Instincts were useless.

He had deactivated the helmet, and he had laughed at Daphnix's startled face.

"Look at me!" he had shouted at his best friend. "I am beyond power! I can control magics the likes of which the Gods have never seen! And the Force… It is so strong in me, I can feel it! And I can control it!"

Sorcerer's smile broadened as he remembered Daphnix's expression, as if he had gone mad. And in a sense, he knew he had gone mad. The sudden rush of power had been tremendous, and he had known he could take on everything and everybody on Earth.

Then, the Amazons had come, testing him. He had destroyed Sonya with a flick of his hand. The fireball was only of the first level, but it had been the very latest, shaped by thousands of years of magic research. It had vaporized her. He had there and then assumed command of his own little band of Amazons. Daphnix had tagged along, scared out of his wits by Sorcerer.

After Sorcerer had eaten and drank all he could, he had simply taken Jennifer. He had an attraction to her, and he had simply taken her. He had wanted to make her his queen. The only problem was the fact that the attraction wasn't shared. He had made some modifications, had boosted her mind and her abilities, but in the end, it had turned out that the reprogrammed Jennifer was just another pet. He had kept her as such.

While he still felt friendship for Daphnix, he had attempted to boost his friend's mind. After discovering the Sagittarius modifications, he knew that Daphnix could be a threat to him. Sorcerer had destroyed his friend's mind, exited, and destroyed his friend's body. He drew comfort from the fact that Daphnix never felt a thing. Sorcerer grimaced as he remembered crying over his friend's ashes.

He knew that moment had been the turning point. He knew that then was when he had become strong. It was then that he had stopped caring, and had taken the title 'Lord-Protector of the Human race' literally. He had wanted control over his race. So, taking Jennifer along, he had returned home, and enslaved Barbara. After that, it took him three full weeks to amass the power he needed to cast the time-warp spell.

But, in those three weeks, he had trained his body and his mind to its limits. He knew every quirk of the Force, he knew how to use his mental abilities, and he had trained himself in the martial arts. He had refrained from using magic, so he could gather the energies needed to go back in time. As soon as he could, he had done so.

Sorcerer appeared In Germany, in 1933. 5 years before Germany would annex Sudetenland, and WW II would start. So, he started doing what he had planned out during the breaks in his training: he started by sabotaging a lot of British and American installations. A factory here, another there, a ship sunk here, a squadron of planes lost there. Nothing major. After all, the war hadn't started yet.

Sorcerer used his mental abilities to get close to Hitler, and implanted some suggestions that would help in the war effort: sticking to a set amount of tank-types, but producing enormous amounts of them. Sorcerer gave the German engineers the plans to the Panzer three and four, as well as the Tiger. Because of Hitler's suggestions, the entire German tank army consisted out of only five different types of tanks. But, because of the limited amount of types, ENORMOUS quantities could be produced. He also limited the army to a limited amount of mobile artillery types, as well as anti-tank vehicles. But, Sorcerer did make sure that the Germans had the best designs of World War II, with all the bugs and kinks worked out, no matter the side they were on originally.

He gave German Magic forces the benefit of 50 years of magic research, including the latest mana-recharge potions, the latest in combat and artillery spells. The Germans would do the rest, concerning training and such. Sorcerer supplied them with 50 years worth of advancement in the psychology field, enabling the Germans to train their soldiers and sorcerers better than the rest of the world could.

He helped the Luftwaffe in the same way. He gave the Germans the plans for the jet engine, gave them the plans to the Messer Schmidt 262, and told them to produce it. Hitler wouldn't try to make it into a strategic bomber, and use the plane as it would be best: as a fighter plane. Using those blueprints, the Germans concocted their first jet bombers by mid-1938.

Sorcerer supplied the German Kriegsmarine, their Navy, with the Type XXI and type XXIII U-boats. Those boats would never have made it into the marine in the Second World War otherwise. Sorcerer also supplied Hitler with the best torpedoes the XXI and XXIII U-boats could fire. He told Hitler to lay off the battleships, and produce enormous amounts of submarines, just as he had promised.

For the German soldiers, next to new training methods, he also supplied the M-16 rifle amongst others, the anti-tank missile, the surface-to-air missile, new bulletproof armor, and the very latest in the fields of rations and clothing. Sorcerer was wary of introducing technology so far into the future, but he thought that a few small things wouldn't matter.

The superior battle tactics, honed by fifty years of cold war, would ensure that the Germans knew how to use their technologically superior army.

Sorcerer also told Hitler to lay of the USSR, and focus first on Britain, and then on the U.S. he programmed Stalin so he would sit tight, and not attack.

But the largest change he made was the change of the death Camps. Sorcerer found exterminating a perfectly fine fighting force a waste of human resources. So, he gave Hitler's scientists all the brainwashing information he could give them. The Death Camps were reformed into 're-education centers'. All the Jews, gay people, Gypsies, and all the other people that were not to Hitler's wishes, would be brought here, brainwashed, and used in the military, or in the industry. Sorcerer wasn't stupid. He split the people up in a number of groups. Everyone between 20 and 40 would be used in the military. The people between 40 and 60 years of age would be used in the industry, and those above sixty would be used wherever they were useful. Those below 20 would join the military some day, so they were indoctrinated, trained, and educated in the arts of war.

Their fanatic attitudes made them a fierce and feared fighting force. The German army was feared like the Mongol Hordes were feared, like the Vikings were feared. At some times, the fanatic war cry of the 'stürmtrüppe' sent whole enemy armies running in fear. Jewish rabbis joined the German Sorcerers on the battlefield, their knowledge on raising golems of all sorts augmenting the German war machine considerably.

The doctrine of lebensraum was cancelled as well. No one would fight for simply more space. No, he changed Nazi doctrine from the Aryan superiority to the German superiority. And, because Germans were so superior, why not share it with the lesser-developed countries of the world? So, Sorcerer would still have his war, and he could justify it as a humanitarian mission.

The Germans stayed on schedule. They attacked in 1938, with armies carrying superior enchanted items, created by the now vastly superior German sorcerers. The other countries, whose sorcerers weren't as well-trained and well-equipped as the Germans' were to begin with, were quickly taken care of by Sorcerer, who found it…challenging to fight ten sorcerers at once.

By 1940, Germany had foot on land in Britain, using the Me-262 as fighter-cover against the British inferior planes. By 1942, Germany had control over Europe, and was standing at the very border of the USSR. On the other side of Europe, the Germans were producing massive amounts of submarines, using the schematics provided by Sorcerer, to cripple the U.S.

Meanwhile, Sorcerer was thwarting every attempt of both the USSR and the US to counter. Intelligence was intercepted; research turned into really hazardous work, and deploying troops became paramount to disaster. More ships were sunk and more troops were lost during deployment than during actual combat.

When Sorcerer saw that crossing the Atlantic was to become a problem, he solved it quite easily. He upgraded the German plane designs by orders of magnitude, by supplying them with plans of planes that weren't built until the mid 1950's. B-52 bombers and C-130 transports, flanked by entire wings of Sabres, flew across the Atlantic before 1944 was over. To Sorcerer's surprise, the Germans didn't just take the technology and use it, they analyzed every piece of data he supplied, drew their own conclusions, and came with their own designs. Without Sorcerer giving them the schematics, the Germans came up with large aircraft carriers, nuclear bombs, and nuclear reactors.

It was only a small step before the Germans launched their first nuclear submarines, followed soon after by the first nuclear-powered aircraft carrier. They were comparable in technology to the 1960's U.S. ships. Sorcerer hurriedly installed a program to prevent the Germans from using their nuclear arsenal. He wanted to rule the world, not destroy it.

Sorcerer had boosted German technology by a quarter century in some fields, and by almost half a century in other fields, by the time 1945 came along. He only cared about whether the Germans conquered the world. After they did, he could take over Germany, and finally rule as he was supposed to.

The U.S. sent their entire Navy (what was left of it after Sorcerer was done with it, anyway.) against a German Carrier group. The American ships never made it into their firing range. Sorcerer was very impressed by the German thoroughness, the way they trained their crews to operate the new equipment. Sorcerer gladly helped them to simulation technology.

The German army, equipped with Humvee's, M-1 tanks and armed with M-16 rifles made quick work of the American army, and President Truman surrendered in January 1946.

The world had seen how easy Germany had brought the mighty U.S. to its knees, and some countries started signing affiliation treaties, making them virtual allies of the Germans. It was a tactic used over 2000 years earlier, by Rome, to keep itself safe. The affiliated countries would be under Germany's protection, but they were also expected to help with Germany's war effort.

Then came the first problem. The conquered peoples did not want to be ruled by Germany. Partisans kept attacking German installations, sabotaging equipment, and so on. Sorcerer needed to concoct something to keep the people happy. He halted the war, putting the German forces on defense only, and started a plan to re-engineer German society.

He had Hitler build factories all over the conquered countries, giving work to hundreds of thousands of people who had lost theirs during the war. Economy was stimulated, and government funded schools were erected. Hospitals, nursing homes, libraries, all were erected with the large funds now available thanks to the U.S. oil wells the Germans had captured.

The stimulated economy helped, but still a lot of Partisans wanted their independence back. So, Sorcerer sent out subliminal messages out over the radio, influencing the people, and the Partisans. When the good way didn't work, then he would use the bad way. He could have hit himself over the head when he realized he could just as well have reprogrammed the Partisans to begin with, but then he realized that a generous leader was more loved. And loved is what he wanted to be.

So, now that the Partisans were out of the way, Sorcerer had the German armies, now well-recuperated, fully stocked, and completely operational, move forward once more. After only a few weeks of renewed combat, another effect of Sorcerer's subliminal messages became clear: a lot of people joined the army, wanting to help in the war effort. Sorcerer couldn't believe his luck.

The German armies, benefiting from Sorcerer's deep knowledge on warfare, were well trained in mountain and jungle warfare. Their training and their superior weapons made quick work of the smaller Central American countries even thought their armies were more used to fighting in the jungle.

By the time the German armies on the American continent reached South America, the entire OPEC (council of Oil-Producing and Exporting Countries) had singed an affiliation treaty with Great-Germany. Massive amounts of taxes poured into the nearly empty German treasury, as well as oil for the war machine. Oil-Marks (can't say oil-dollars when dealing with Germany, now can I?) funded research into the new nuclear ballistic missile submarines, the new nuclear hunter-killer submarines, the newer airplanes, aircraft carriers, and so on.

After South America was conquered, Sorcerer just lay back, and enjoyed the show. The German armies waltzed over the enemy; their technology, tactics, motivation and training simply outclassed the opposition by orders of magnitude. And in the final stages of the War, they had numerical superiority as well, as the USSR signed an affiliation treaty, and their armies joined the fight.

The German armies turned to those countries that hadn't signed a treaty yet. There were not many of those left, and they quickly fell. Now Sorcerer had a huge problem. He wanted the entire world under the rule of a single leader. He had about 90% of the world, under Hitler, but the affiliated countries were a different matter altogether.

Sorcerer had Hitler break the treaty with the USSR. The German army attacked totally unexpectedly, using massive amounts of B-52's to burn it to the ground before the armies marched in. The USSR could deploy literally humongous amounts of reserves, but what were men and T-34 tanks against carpet-bombing by B-52's? The Russian MiG-19's were no match for the German F-14's, who simply held target practice with their air-to-air missiles on the few planes that actually made it into the skies.

The Russian War only lasted a couple of months, but Stalin would have let it drag on if Sorcerer hadn't eliminated him. The other countries, seeing how ruthless the Germans were, hurriedly petitioned to enter Great Germany after national polls showed that the people would much rather join than be annexed.

So, Sorcerer had his world empire. He went to Hitler's scientists, and turned all the scientific and magical knowledge he had amassed in 1999 over to them. He then went to Hitler, and did some more reprogramming. He wanted to advance technology and magic dramatically. He told Hitler to have the entire world up to standards within five years. Difficult, yes, but not impossible. Certainly not with all the knowledge on law-enforcement, military, and intelligence agencies Sorcerer had supplied Great Germany with. He also told Hitler to get everyone connected to electricity, fresh water, and a sewer network.

Sorcerer cast the time-warp spell, and reappeared exactly five years after he had left. Hitler was still there, so Sorcerer immediately went to business. The world was up to date, and some technological progress had been made as well. Sorcerer was pleased. In the week it took him to amass the mana needed to jump another five years, Sorcerer carefully laid out a plan to Hitler, one he must follow.

The plan basically told Hitler to make certain technological advances, including switching cars from fossil fuels over to alternative fuels: hydrogen, preferably, or electricity. And in the warmer region, solar power was the most preferred. Another change was that electricity should be generated with as little fossil fuel consumption as possible. Nuclear power was not preferred, but would be allowed, for now.

He also told Hitler to start building out the space program. Satellites had to be launched. A world-wide communications network had to be built.

Again, he reappeared five years later. And again, his standards had been met. The cars, now running on hydrogen fuel cells or on solar power, were also a lot cheaper then the old fossil fuel cars, now that they could be produced en masse. Computers were built into everything now, and they monitored everything. Intelligence agencies had done their jobs well, and all the bad elements had been 'reeducated', and now served in the army.

By now, it was 1957. Sorcerer, not wanting to get back to 'his' age too much out of place, told Hitler he'd be back within two years. This time, the orders were simpler to follow. Certain technologies had to be researched, and certain goals had to be reached. This included a universal standard for computers, and the new standard had to reach 2,000 MHz by the time Sorcerer was back.

Hitler died of natural causes in the mid-1970's, and Sorcerer had someone else take his place. Using the same program on the new guy as he had used on Hitler, Sorcerer went on with his advancement plans.

Problems arose when Sorcerer tried to cast a time-warp spell to go to 1984. the time-warp established itself, the disappeared before Sorcerer could use it. Startled, he noticed that the spell hadn't taken any mana out of him. So, he tried again, with the same results. He tried to go to 1983, and got the same result at with trying to get to 1984.

Finally, he got through to 1982. When he got there, it was like a scene fro Hell. His meddling with the time-line had corrupted it terribly, and Sorcerer could see how people were aging in a matter of seconds, while others seemed to grow younger, and still others who seemed to be frozen in time. Buildings crumbled, and then magically resurrected themselves, only to crumble to dust once more. The sun was racing across the sky at ever-changing tempos. Now fast, then slow, then stopping completely or moving backwards. The strange patterns had submerged the earth in an eerie yellowish orange color.

Sorcerer wandered through this hellish landscape, trying to think of a way to avert this disaster. He realized that his meddling with the time-line was responsible for this, but he saw no other solution but to go back, and stop himself. But that would mean ruining a lot of hard work. So, Sorcerer stayed in the time-carousel, trying to think of a solution.

He knew that he was protected from the time-shifts because of the time-warp spell he had cast to get back to the past. He was protected from the changes in the time-line, and therefore, he as protected from the time-shifts. So, seeing no alternative, Sorcerer decided to start gathering his energy. One was a Sorcerer, or one wasn't.

He needed a lot of energy to make it work, and it took him nearly four weeks to get it. He molded all the energy into a spell he had just created, a spell that would reinforce the temporal barrier. He released the spell, and he could see the building that was crumbing and resurrecting just resurrect itself, and stay that way. He could see the people returning to their normal ages, and started moving at normal speeds again.

He quickly amassed his remaining energy, and drained his reserves completely by time warping to 1984. He fell to the ground exhausted when he got there, but he was glad to have a floor to fall to. It took him nearly two weeks to get the energy required to safely transport to 1989. in those two weeks, he gave Hitler's replacement his new directives. Sorcerer wanted a working fusion plant on his next visit, and a working anti-matter reactor by 1999. At that time, Sorcerer would take over the program himself. The man nodded, and started dialing to get the research labs under way.

Sorcerer just looked out on the streets, looking at the people moving, the advanced cars floating through the air, but most of all, he looked at the clean air, and the pollution-free environment. The technological advances had completely negated the need for fossil fuels, and had put the entire world on hydrogen fuel cells, solar power, and wind energy. Yes, Sorcerer was creating an idyllic society. And he knew it wouldn't last long.

When he finally made it back to his own day and age, the world was a very different place. Crime had almost been eradicated, everyone had work, free health care, free education, everyone had a retirement pension, and so on. In short, the world had become an almost idyllic society. Almost. The police and secret service monitored everything and everybody, criminals were handled very harshly, and almost all ended up in reeducation.

This was the world Sorcerer was now in charge of. He started by assimilating all the research his world had to offer. After a month of very intense study, he made some minor corrections to the law, and to the proceedings of things, but nothing major. The world was spinning as it was supposed to, and the people were happy. Those who could still remember 'the old days' said it was so much better now. Except for the criminals, and the very limited freedom of speech. The press wasn't free, and couldn't write what it wanted.

But then again, nobody complained about it, so Sorcerer left it as it was. And if they had complained, Sorcerer was sure that once things were 'explained' to them, they would be more than happy to pick up their old jobs, and forget the ugly incident ever happened.

So, Sorcerer immersed himself in science. His mind kicked into overdrive, and he started upgrading the fusion and matter/anti-matter reactors. He started designing new materials, and he designed a mobile command center to run his empire from. What he did keep doing, however, was taking a bi-monthly time-warp to check if the time-line was still in order.

By the time that 2000 came along, Sorcerer had his mobile command center, his fighters, ships, submarines and airplanes to occupy the empty slots, and he had the people to man it. For a society that never actually launched a man into space, it was quite an accomplishment to build something of this magnitude, but it was to be expected, since it was based on the teachings of the now destroyed time-line.

During one of his solitary exploration missions, Sorcerer found a necklace on Mars. The Necklace of an ancient race, called the Oech-anya. Using their tremendously advanced martial arts skills to his advantage, Sorcerer managed to increase his own power tremendously. He immediately ordered his entire army trained in the Oech-anya martial arts. He knew they couldn't be as good as he was, but every edge was still an edge. He had detected that there was other life in the universe, and he wanted it enslaved.

He ordered new fighters built, new ships designed and constructed, and new technologies found to make life in space more pleasant. Sorcerer's scientists drove the simulator technology to its limits, and came up with the Virtual Environment Room. Sorcerer, neither liking the name, nor the acronym VER, decided to just call the thing a holodeck, and be done with it. His scientists agreed, of course. The next innovation came with the Equipment and Food Synthesizer. Again, Sorcerer gave it a more pleasant name, and called the damn thing a replicator.

The only area where his scientists couldn't make a breakthrough was the one field that needed it most: propulsion. He was still stuck with the old fusion engines, capable of 99.9% of light, but no more. He needed something to break the lightspeed barrier.

An entire FLEET of warships had been built by the end of 2000. The replicator had drastically cut down on production time, and the nano-construction vehicles, or nanites, as Sorcerer called them, did their fair share of modifying the existing ships with the latest technologies, now pouring out of the labs at the rate of about one or two innovations a MONTH. Sorcerer's mind was fully active in helping his scientists to come up with a solution, but the faster-than-light drive still eluded them.

The idea was sound, though: bend space to go faster than light. But the practical solutions couldn't be overcome. Then, a gift came from the heavens. A ship entered the solar system, ordering the human race to surrender.

Sorcerer captured the ship without many problems, got all the information from the alien's mind, and then destroyed the alien. With the information from the alien, and the small ship, his scientists were able to upgrade his ships by at least a couple of generations. The QDD, or Tunnel drive, was installed in all the ships in less than a week. The nanites didn't take breaks, nor need to sleep.

After that week, Sorcerer order all communications with earth to be restricted, and set a course for the Ketari home world. Sorcerer grinned as he remembered the fleet. Over 50,000 fighters, a mobile command center, ten battleships, 25 heavy cruisers, 50 light cruisers, five battlecarriers, and something his scientists had called a dreadnought. Sorcerer aptly named it Planet-buster. All the ships were equipped with multi-spectral shielding, quantum inversion beams, quantum pellet guns, cloaking, and the old and trusty weapons: the phaser and the anti-matter torpedo.

As Sorcerer thought back, he was sorry not to have seen the new zero-point weapons ready before his invasion. But, he knew himself. He had wanted to destroy the Ketari, and he was going to do it. Sorcerer smiled as his thoughts wander back to the past.

Sorcerer never bothered to beam down any forces to Ketari outposts. The Dreadnought Planet-buster took care of those. It had a special weapon on board, called a multi-spectral shift inverter beam. Sorcerer just called it a rainbow blast, after the fact that the beam took all the colors of the rainbow while annihilating its target. The weapon required massive amounts of power, but had a tremendous punch. It shifted the target slightly out of phase with our space-time continuum. That wasn't what caused the damage. The damage was done when the beam stopped, literally smashing the target back into the continuum. The resulting quantum stresses would literally tear it apart at the subatomic level.

Sorcerer had watched in glee, as the outposts were ripped apart by the rainbow blast beam. Any opposing space forces were just obliterated by the large war fleet. It took Sorcerer less than a day to reach Ketaria. He sent down a message, telling its Phalanx to come up to Sorcerer's ship, and fight to the death. The winner would take all.

Sorcerer had it all, the Ketari powers, the Sword, and the people. Then, the quirk of a rule popped up its ugly head. Sorcerer couldn't receive the powers because there were still Ketari alive. So, Sorcerer cheated. As soon as he got home, he had all the Ketari killed, and put in cryogenic suspension. He claimed the Ketari powers, and after they were granted to him, he revived the Ketari. He had expected to be stripped of the Ketari powers, but much to his surprise, he got to keep them. So, now he had a human fighting force, and a Ketari slave-labor force.

After finding out that the Ketari were better scientists then they were warriors, he had a lot of them transported to the research labs, to help improve the level of technology of the Earth Imperial War Fleet. And help they did.

Then, Sorcerer realized something. He was a 'Dark Phalanx', and therefore, he would be a mortal with a lifespan of 1000 years. Even though 1000 years is a long time, Sorcerer had no intention of spending it in mortality. So, he uttered the spell to be teleported to Avalon.

He was denied access. Angry beyond words, he supercharged himself, and broke through the shielding. As soon as he set foot on the island, he walked to the sacred vaults, to be, once more, denied access. It took him the combined power of all three races to get into the vault, and the drain nearly killed him. Then, he saw what he had come for. Most of this stuff was useless to him, because it was for 'protection against evil', and he knew of himself that he was evil. But, he did see something else. The Fountain of Youth. He drank gluttonously. Feeling nothing out of the ordinary, he looked around. Nothing seemed different. For a moment, he feared that the water would do nothing, but then he realized his mistake.

After opening the small compartment, he removed the Holy Grail. The holy object protested by fiercely flaring in an angry white light, but it was completely harmless to Sorcerer, who just laughed, and submerged it deeply in the basin. He drank greedily from the water, knowing it could have three effects on him: either it would make him immortal, kill him, or make him immortal after purifying him.

Sorcerer didn't know whether he wanted to live as a goody two-shoes, but decided that death was the worst option here. As long as it didn't kill him, he knew he would be all right. So, he drank greedily. And it turned him into a goody two-shoes.

Sorcerer fast-forwarded through this part. He didn't like to see himself so week, weeping with guilt over all the nasty things he had done. He resumed normal playback when the Dark One came. The goody two-shoes Sorcerer felt such remorse he had no strength left to fight the Dark One. After a weak and feeble fight that last barely a few seconds, Sorcerer was back the way he had been, AND he was immortal.

Sorcerer felt exhilarated, and had eaten and drunk until he could so no more. He couldn't remember when he had experienced such a good time.

Sorcerer opened his eyes. His recharge was complete. It would be another two months before he would have to do a time warp to check the time-line again. This time, it had been bad. He had to repair no less than THREE different cracks in the time-line. He slowly stood up, and walked out of the bare meditation room. He strode down the hall, and entered his throne room.

The large dreadnought, with its massive 20-kilometer length, its 8-kilometer width, and its height of over 4 kilometers, had all the room he could ever need. And after it had been converted to use zero-point energy instead of the old anti-matter reactors, even more massive amounts of room had become available.

Sorcerer sat down on his throne, his form hidden under a cloak, his face hidden under a hood. He didn't like it when people were able to see him. He was a secretive person, not trusting anyone, and always deceiving the people around him.

"Computer. Locate slave named Jennifer," he ordered his armrest. A metallic voice responded.

There are five slaves with the name Jennifer. Please enter slave ID number.

"Slave number 001," Sorcerer said, sounding annoyed with the computer for not knowing it.

Slave Jennifer, ID number 001, is located in the primary slave facilities, room 025. Do you wish to see her?

Sorcerer thought for a minute. Why did he think of her now? He had seen her frequently in his flashbacks. She didn't make all that great a slave, but there was still a certain attraction he felt for her. Sorcerer didn't understand his emotions. He didn't like what he didn't understand. Acting on impulse, he said:

"No, have her killed." Immediately after saying that, something gripped him by the throat, something fierce, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Regret. Remorse.

"Computer, Belay that."

Order belayed.

"Have her escorted up here," he managed to say.

Slave Jennifer, ID number 001, will be escorted to the throne room immediately.

Sorcerer let out his breath. For some reason, he had feared he was too late with his cancellation. He waited almost impatiently for Jennifer to appear before him. He knew she was his slave, programmed to do whatever he commanded. He had seen the distaste for him she had in her eyes the moment he had simply incinerated Sonya. But that distaste had changed… but then it had reappeared after he took her.

The large door slid open, and there she was, dressed in the Imperial slave garments: two pieces of cloth that his barely enough to be decent, and a dress of a silky semi-transparent fabric draped around her body.

"Leave us," Sorcerer said to the guards, who nodded, and immediately left the room. The door closed, leaving Sorcerer and Jennifer alone.

"My Lord?" she asked.

"Slave,…" he began. No, this was something else. Something he craved for. Something his heart knew he needed, but something his mind refused to acknowledge. "Jennifer. Do you remember anything from before you became my servant?" he almost said 'slave', but manage to catch himself in time.

"No, My Lord," her voice was flat. As Sorcerer looked at this creature that had fascinated him, he could see how much her slavery had affected her. Her brown hair was brittle and had lost its brilliance, her eyes were looking, but not seeing, her skin was pale… it made Sorcerer's stomach turn.

"Do you wish to?"

"If My Lord wishes it," she responded.

Sorcerer knew that she had no mind of her own anymore. He wanted to know, to see, what was still in there. That look of defiance, the look in her eyes that had told him she found him interesting, the moment before he had destroyed her innocence. He plunged into her mind, and in a fit of rage, ripped out every program, every instruction, every alteration he had made to her mind. He blanked out her entire personality file, and loaded a backup. Somehow, he knew that there would be an uncontaminated backup of her personality somewhere.

Her memories were left intact, and he was grateful for it. The moment he pulled out, the old fire that had captivated his attention was back.

"You bastard!" she yelled at him. "You pig! Asshole! Piece of shit! I'll rip your balls off and feed them to you!"

A rare smile decorated Sorcerer's lips, but the hood protected his privacy.

"Why?" she finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you finally free me, you asshole!"

"I don't know," he admitted. "And I don't like what I don't now."

"So that's why? Out of curiosity? You PIG!" she spat in his face. Or at least, she tried to, but the hood protected most of it.

Sorcerer wiped the spit off his face. "You're still the same. I thought that maybe, just maybe, we could have a decent conversation. I want to know more about you, maybe find out what this strange attraction is to you, and why it came back today out of all days."

"You? Conversation? I remember our last 'conversation'. You RAPED me you fucking bastard!"

"Yeah, well, I wanna talk now. If I want mindless sex I'll just call a drone."

"You know what it is? This feeling? Loneliness! You're finally beginning to realize that you're lonely. And you want someone to fill that gap. You can count me out, bastard! You can just reprogram me, or kill me for all you want, but I won't be around just to fill your loneliness!"

Images ripped before Sorcerer's eyes. Images, tender images… him, holding his sister when they were younger, just after their parents had died. Him, hugging his mother… him, playing with his father…he knew that Jennifer was right. He was lonely. He had all the power in the world, he controlled fleets of warships, had all the knowledge and abilities the human race had to offer, and he had no one to share it with. And her refusal drove deep into his heart. Emotions he hadn't used in along time were betrayed, stamped on, ruthlessly destroyed. He felt as if someone had ripped his heart out, and served it to him on a silver platter.

"In that case, my dear, we have nothing further to say," his voice was breaking, and he knew it. For a moment, there was a flash of something in her eyes, and he had picked up on it. A small thread of hope nested itself in his heart, and his mind. He planted himself back on his throne. Jennifer stood there, looking at him.

"Did I hurt your feelings? You poor guy. Where is your precious power now? Huh? And your strength? Where is it when you need comfort? Someone to hug you? Someone to tell you you're loved? Huh? What's that? You don't have someone like that? Maybe it's that personality from Hell you've got."

"Please…stop…," he croaked.

"Why? You didn't stop after you raped me! You reprogrammed me! Abused my body and my mind! Why shouldn't I twist the knife now that I have the chance? And why shouldn't I pour salt down the wound?"

"Please…" his voice was vibrating now, all his willpower was needed to stop the unshed tears from being shed.

"Huh. You're weak. With all your precious power, all your money, all you abilities and accomplishments you're so proud off, you're still just a child."

"I SAID STOP IT!" he shouted, rising form the throne. All his pain, all of it, bundled in a ball of flame the size of the palm of his hand. He incinerated her on the spot. "AND WHEN I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING, YOU DO IT, YOU BITCH! GUARDS! GET IN HERE!"

The two guards rushed into the room. Sorcerer rarely yelled for them. When he did, it was usually… unpleasant.

"I need to relieve some stress. Get me 40 gladiators."

"Yes, sir," the first guard said hurriedly leaving the room with the second guard right behind him. The girl they had brought up not long ago was gone. Both guards knew what had happened to her.

Five minutes later, 40 genetically engineered gladiators, bred specifically for this, were brought into the throne room. Sorcerer's hands came up from under the cloak. In each hand, he held a green-glowing blade.

"Leave us," he ordered the guards. Yes sir," the guards said, and left the room.

"Why?" he asked, starting to hack and slash at the advancing gladiators. "Why couldn't she just hold me?" Two more gladiators went down. "Why didn't she just fill the void? Why?" Three more gladiators went down. "Am I that horrible to live with?" Another gladiator went down. "I mean, I've got a nice home, I could've given her anything she asked for." Three more gladiators died as Sorcerer beheaded them in a single stroke. "I could've worked on my personality… but NO! She had to drive a stake through my heart!" A surge of mental energy destroyed ten gladiators. "I handed her my heart, and she stomped on it!" With a single shout, he called a level-three fireball, a level actually high enough for him to need to use a spell. The remaining gladiators, as well as the corpses, were incinerated.

"The bitch!" he said, putting his blades back in their sheaths, hidden under his cloak. "Guards! More gladiators!"

Ten minutes later, Sorcerer walked briskly to the fighter bays on board the Adolf Hitler. He just jumped in a fighter, and took off. Everyone knew better than to try and stop him when he got like this.

Sorcerer ferociously tapped the pilot's console in the two-person fighter. Suddenly, the tunnel shifted from blue to a greenish tint, and Sorcerer's tapping increased.

Warning: quantum flow disturbed. Green shift detected. Current speed is at 25,000 times speed of light, with a space-bending coefficient of 0.5. Warning!

Sorcerer reached over, and taped the science console. The computer stopped. His ferocious tapping increased, as he had to manually handle the quantum flows that regulated the space-bending coefficient. His mind worked overtime, as the data had to be compensated at least two times a second, sometimes more.

Finally, he came out of the green tunnel near a star. Only he knew where it was, and only he knew why he was here in the first place. This was his special relief star, where he came to get rid of stress. And he was under a lot of stress today. He opened the hatch, and just stepped out into the silky blackness of space.

He stretched his hands out towards the star, and just flung raw magical energy at it. he didn't bother to shape it into a spell, even though it would only take a thought. Pure white beams of energy lashed out from his hands towards the star. When he didn't feel himself getting better, he increased the power of the beam, forcing himself to go flat-out.

Pain flooded his system as he forced his body to blast with all its might. But still, it didn't make him feel better. He wanted to destroy something.

"Force-enforced telekinetic attack!" he shouted, and the beam of pure white was now encircled by an almost invisible glow of mental power. He screamed louder, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

"Damn her! Why couldn't she be nice to me? Why did she have to be such a bitch?" he sobbed as he felt his strength leaving him. "Damn it, why couldn't she just love me?" he shouted, his mind and body reaching a conjunction of anger.

"Magic Boost!" he shouted. "Second level!" his strength doubled s his body was magically reshaped. The star, yellow, like our own sun, now started pulsing between yellow and an angry yellowish white. As he stopped his firing and dissolved into violent sobs, the star returned to its normal yellow color, another ten thousand years added to its lifespan.

He didn't know how long it took him to compose himself. But Sorcerer did know one thing; he was NEVER going to let anyone ever come that close to him again. As soon as he got back in the fighter, he closed his eyes, and plunged into his mind. Sorcerer had organized his mind well.

"Feelings directory. Compassion. Delete. Love. Delete. Friendship. Delete. Loyalty. Delete." And the list went on. Every emotion Sorcerer thought could be used against him was deleted.

Vicky, Sarah, and Zells had been imprisoned the moment they came through the portal. No one had believed their story of coming from a parallel universe, until a simple subatomic scan had revealed that they had a quantum variance. But they had still been thrown in jail, and they were still there.

"How DARE you!" Zells shouted through the closed door. "I demand you release us at once!"

Vicky and Sarah just looked at each other, and sighed.

"How can you be so calm? We're in jail, for Christ's sake!"

"And being angry will not open the door any faster. To the contrary. Yelling will quite possibly only result in a longer incarceration," Vicky responded.

"My anger won't. YOURS will," Zells returned.

"Possibly," Vicky allowed. "And then what? We're on a ship of unknown dimensions, surrounded by a hostile force with an unknown number of men, armed with an unknown amount of weapons. It would be unadvisable to attempt to break out."

Zells just sat down on his cot. The look on his face betrayed that he would much rather do something than just sit here.

"You were warned that the Sorcerer was bad," Vicky continued. "We should have attempted communications first."

"Now you tell me!" Zells grunted, and dropped back on his cot. Vicky and Sarah shrugged at each other. Zells was annoying them. And not a tiny bit either.

Sorcerer returned to the Adolf Hitler a couple of hours after he successfully rearranged his mind. He felt stronger, more confident, now that he wouldn't be emotionally hurt so easily. As soon as he opened the door of the fighter, an aide came to him.

"Excuse me, My Lord, but there are three strangers here to see you. They are from a parallel dimension, the subatomic scan has confirmed it."

"Very well. In what cell have they been put?"

"Cell 5632 of C block, sir."

Sorcerer just nodded, and uttered a teleportation spell to the supply room. The few hours it had taken him to fly back had recharged him somewhat, but not enough. He greedily drank half a case of mana recharge potion. It wasn't as good a quality as the mana he would draw from his surroundings, but it would have to do. For some reason, he had never been able to break through the reversed quantum interference surrounding his universe. He hoped that these travelers could help him.

Sorcerer teleported to the C block, and walked to cell number 5632. "Open it," he barked at the jailer. The door opened.

"Finally!" Zells barked as he saw the hooded figure standing in the opening.

"I demand to see your leader at once! I have urgent news that will interest him to no limit!"

"I am Sorcerer," Sorcerer responded. "You are Zells, Gordon. You are of no consequence." He turned to the two girls. "You are both strong in mind and body, and your minds are encrypted. You will tell me what this news is."

Zells fumed. "How dare you…" he began. Sorcerer silenced him with a single motion of his hand. Sorcerer shaped a very limited amount of the unrefined mana into a spell, and flung it towards the fuming man. Zells' mouth disappeared. "SILENCE!" Sorcerer barked, quite unnecessarily.

"Now, please, tell me what this news is," Sorcerer turned back to Vicky.

"We have been fighting a being known as the Phalanx for some time now," Vicky told him. Sorcerer's hood camouflaged the ashen complexity of his face. "recently, however, we captured one of his agents, and managed to extract some information. We now know where the bulk of his fleet is located."

"Interesting," Sorcerer grunted. "What does this have to do with me?"

"We would like to ask for your assistance is destroying this Phalanx."

"I see. And where is this fleet located?"

"The far side of the moon, in what we call universe 001."

Sorcerer barked in laughter. "My sweet, sweet girl. Do you know how long I have been trying to cross the dimensional barrier? There is no way for me to get any help across. All biological matter is destroyed when it crosses a region of reversed quantum interference surrounding this universe."

"With all due respect," Vicky said. "We made it through. It is quite possible that this reversed quantum interference only operates at the specific quantum variance of this universe."

"That would be my first guess as well," Sorcerer said. "I see that you are quite educated. Would you two ladies care to join me for dinner?"

"Thank you," Vicky and Sarah said, standing up. Sorcerer made an inviting motion, allowing the two girls out of the cell. When Zells attempted to walk out as well, Sorcerer slammed the door shut in his face.

"I do not like you," Sorcerer said. "But it seems that I will hate this Phalanx even more. Maybe I can help you, and maybe not. But until such a time, you will remain here."

Zells tried to mumble something through his disappeared mouth. Sorcerer just shrugged, and walked off, with Vicky and Sarah right behind him.

After a lavish dinner, Vicky and Sarah told Sorcerer everything they knew of Frederic, or the Brat. Sorcerer just nodded, having long ago understood where the universes had split apart.

According to this report, this other Phalanx had just received mental powers, and knowledge. It had changed him, but it hadn't changed him so much. Magic came later, as well as the Force. By receiving all of it at once, Sorcerer had lost the goodness inside of him, had lost touch with his soul, and had simply done as he pleased.

And this other Phalanx had been allowed to live…Sorcerer wondered why. And he had been allowed access to the vaults on Avalon, and that made him wonder even more. It seemed that this other Phalanx had all the same powers Sorcerer did…and that could very well mean a definite challenge. And Sorcerer craved a challenge.

Then, the conversation came back to what the two girls were there for in the first place.

"Maybe we could try a spaceship?" Vicky suggested. "You said that all biological matter was destroyed."

Sorcerer shook his head. "Our ships are all equipped with bio-neural computer cores and a bimetallic hull. The things we get back barely made it back, some processors here, a drive there, some metal to keep it together. Barely enough to make it back."

"How about we jury-rig your ships? Remove all biological material from them," Vicky said.

"With the nanites…maybe in a week, we can help you to some destroyers, but those ships won't be much help."

"And weapons? With a couple of ships, and weapons for our men, we could do the raid ourselves," Sarah interjected. She rarely spoke, but when she did, it was always something worth listening to.

Both Sorcerer and Vicky nodded. "I think I could spare you some weapons," Sorcerer said. "On one condition. I want that Brat you keep talking about right here. I want him to fight me. If he wins, he can keep his life, his empire, and mine. If he loses, I'll take his empire, his life, and that bitch of his."

"Excuse me, but why such high stakes?" Vicky asked.

"Because it's more fun that way," Sorcerer said, grinning, even though the grin was hidden under his hood.

Vicky and Sarah nodded. They understood.

"Tell us a story, Daddy?" Frederic looked into his daughter's shining eyes.

"When have I ever put you two to bed without telling you a story?" He grinned as he sat down in the playroom of his children's quarters. Jessica and David, now appearing to be three to four years old, excitedly crawled closer to him.

"Alright," Frederic said, reclining in the comfortable chair with each child cradled into the crook of one of his arms. "From what region?"

"Africa!" Jessica shouted.

"Asia!" David yelled.

"You got to chose last time," Frederic told his son. "Let's take Africa today, ok?"

David pretended to pout for a moment or two, but he did settle in for the story, putting his small head on his father's chest. Jessica did the same from her side. Frederic smiled contently contentedly as he looked down at his two children. How lucky I am…those two are incredible.

"Alright," Frederic began, "In the olden days, the people who melted metal and who turned it into horseshoes and tools for hunters and farmers were called blacksmiths. Once, in those long ago days, far away in a country called Uganda, there lived a blacksmith and his name was Walukaga. Walukaga was the very finest blacksmith in the land, and every day a small crowd of people would gather at his blacksmith shop just to watch him at work.

Early one morning, as Walukaga was beginning work, a messenger from the king's court arrived.

"His Majesty says you are to go and see him immediately. He has a job for you to do," said the messenger.

Walukaga was delighted. Hastily putting on his best white robes he hurried off to the palace, wondering what the king wanted him to do. He passed many of his friends about their early-morning tasks in the dusty roads, and to all of them he shouted happily, "The king has sent for me! He has some work for me to do. Wish me luck!"

Walukaga reached the palace and was shown into a little room by the gate, where he waited some time until the king was ready to receive him. Then he was ushered into the inner courtyard. There sat the king on a stool carved from a single piece of tree trunk.

The blacksmith bowed low to the ground. When he rose, the king said, "I have sent for you, the most skillful blacksmith in the entire land, because I have a very special task to give you." He clapped his hands and several servants appeared with their arms full of odd-shaped pieces of iron, which they placed at the king's feet.

"You are to take this metal and change it into a man," said the king. "Not just a statue, but a living man of iron who can walk and talk and think, and who has blood in his veins."

Walukaga was flabbergasted. He searched the king's face to see whether perhaps this was a joke, but the king's dark eyes showed that he was quite serious. Everyone in the country knew that the king had the power of life and death over his subjects and that if anyone failed to carry out an order, he would be put to death at once.

"Yes, your Majesty," replied Walukaga, bowing low once more.

The king's servants helped the blacksmith carry the iron back to his smith shop, and Walukaga followed them slowly, his eyes to the ground, scarcely returning the greetings of his friends in the town, who wondered what had gone wrong. Later in the day they came to see him and when he told them what the king had commanded, they too fell silent."

Frederic looked down at his two children, and he could see them listening in rapt attention. This was one of his favorite parts of the day, just sitting here, telling a story, his two children nested in the crooks of his arms. He continued the story.

"So poor Walukaga began to think his days were numbered. All day and all night he sat with his head in his hands, wondering how to find a solution to his problem. Of course, a number of people made suggestions. Could he not make an iron shell of a man and persuade somebody to get inside it and speak and walk? Should he run away to a far country and begin life afresh where nobody knew him? Someone even suggested he pay the palace cook to put poison in the king's food, since Walukaga himself would surely die within a few days unless the king died first.

Poor Walukaga! None of these suggestions would do at all. He became ill and thin, since he could not eat or sleep, and began roaming the bush alone, speaking his thoughts aloud as he tried to think of a plan to save himself from death.

One evening, as he walked through a deserted stretch of bush, he heard weird singing. Going closer to investigate, he discovered a boyhood friend of his who had now, alas, become mad and lived alone in the wild country outside of town.

"Greetings, Walukaga," called the madman, who had no difficulty in remembering the blacksmith, even though his mind was so often muddled about other things. "How kind of you to visit me here. Come, sit down and share my supper."

The madman was harmless enough, and Walukaga had nothing else to do, so he sat on a rock beside him. Together they ate ripe berries and some honey which his old boyhood friend had collected from the wild bees. Walukaga suddenly realized that this was the first food he had eaten for several days, and felt better for it, so he decided to humor his old friend and tell him the story of the king's demand. To his surprise, the other fellow sat quite still and listened to the end without interrupting.

"Well," concluded Walukaga, "that is my story; and if you can tell me what I am to do, you will be a better friend than any other, for they cannot help me."

"What did the friend tell him?" Jessica asked.

"What do you think?" Frederic asked. "How could the friend save Walukaga?"

"I don't know," Jessica said. Her mind started doing over-time.

"Me neither," David said, beginning to do over-time himself. Frederic patiently waited for his children to ask for the rest of the story. He knew better than to begin telling without them asking for it. His children could be…quite persistent when they wanted to find a solution by themselves.

"Maybe the friend gives Walukaga a recipe to make iron come to life," Jessica suggested.

"Yes, a magical recipe, something like friendship and love from Walukaga's friends," David expanded.

"Come on, Daddy, tell us!" Jessica begged.

"Alright," Frederic said.

"I know what you must do," said the hermit almost immediately. "Go to the king and tell him that in order to make the kind of man he requires, you must have very special kinds of ingredients. You will need a special kind of charcoal and you will need a very special kind of water. Ask him to make all his subjects shave their heads and bring their hair to be burnt into charcoal and when you have one thousand loads of such charcoal, then that will be enough. Then tell the king that you must have one hundred pots of water made up from the tears of the king's people, since only such water may be used to keep your fire burning at exactly the right temperature."

When the madman had said this, he laughed uproariously for some time. The blacksmith tried in vain to thank him for such good advice and then hurried off to the king's palace, in spite of the lateness of the hour.

He bowed low before the king and explained what he must have before he could begin work on the iron man. The king was quite agreeable. He sent messages to all his subjects the next morning, commanding them all to shave their heads and to deliver their hair to the castle to be burned for charcoal and also to weep into their water-pots.

The people did their best, wondering why they must follow this strange request, but not daring to disobey their powerful king, everyone shaved their heads and wept as much as they could into their water-pots. But try as they might, it was impossible to collect more than two pots of tears or even one load of charcoal.

When these results were brought to the king, he sighed.

"Alas! I can see that we shall never be able to collect all the charcoal and the water that Walukaga needs. Send for him to come here at once."

With shaking legs Walukaga approached the king. As he looked up, he was relieved to see a smile on the king's face.

"Walukaga," he said. "You have asked something impossible. I see now that my people can never grow enough hair to produce one thousand loads of charcoal, nor weep enough tears to fill one hundred water-pots. I therefore free you from your task."

"Your Majesty," replied Walukaga. "I am indeed grateful to you, for you too, asked something impossible of me. I could never have made a living man from iron, try as I would."

Then all the people laughed realized how cleverly Walukaga had gotten out of his fix, and the king allowed him to go home and to continue his work at the blacksmith shop. But Walukaga never forgot that it was his friend's advice, which had saved him, and saw to it that the madman never went hungry or thirsty to the end of his days."

"Genius!" Jessica said. "Instead of making the iron man, he showed the king that it was impossible!"

"Yeah. Great story, Dad."

"Come on, you two. It's past your bedtime. Now hop in, before your mother has a fit."

"Alright, Dad. Goodnight," David gave his father a fug, jumped to the ground, and walked over to his room. Jessica kissed him on the cheek, said, "Goodnight Daddy", and disappeared into her own room.

Frederic made sure that his children were safely in their beds, asked Linda to turn down the lights, and quietly exited the children's room.

Jennifer silently greeted her husband when he walked up onto the bridge of the Ortega.

"We still haven't found him," Daphnix said as Frederic sat down in the command chair.

"Damn," Frederic muttered. Then, louder, he added, "Where could Andreas be?"

"He's been gone for an awfully long time," Jennifer muttered. "And we still don't know who took him. Whoever it was, he managed to take him from 003, soon after we established an F² there. The sensors weren't even fully operational yet."

"Best guess is still the same?" Frederic asked.

Daphnix nodded. "One of Zells' ex-henchmen."

Suddenly, Jennifer screamed, "Dimensional alert! Universe001! Warships entering through quantum displacement!"

"WARSHIPS?" Frederic shouted. "Daphnix, raise shields, and ready weapons! Jennifer, prepare to get us over there as soon as possible. Linda, get me Barbara on screen."

"Barbs, we have an emergency in 001. We have to use the Ortega. Can you look after David and Jessie for a little while?" Frederic asked as soon as Barbara was contacted.

"Sure," she responded. "We'll all be glad to look after them."

Frederic nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. We'll be expecting you."

"We'll be there shortly. We'll be using the portal plant. Frederic out." the screen went blank. "Jenny, get us over there. Linda, begin powering up the portal plant. I'm going to wake them up."

Frederic jumped from his chair, as the massive ship started moving. He was gone before anyone could even acknowledge him.

"Jessie, honey, wake up sweetie," Frederic said as he awoke first his daughter, and then his son.

"What is it, Dad?" David asked as he saw Frederic's face.

"We've got a … problem."

"Problem? What kind of problem?" Jessica asked.

"Warships in 001," Frederic said. "We have to check it out, but after Andreas was kidnapped…"

"They could be hostile," David added.

"And you want us to leave the Ortega," Jessica completed.

Frederic nodded. "You'll be staying with your aunts for the night."

Jessica and David almost jumped. Their aunts spoiled them rotten, and they both knew it. Only that reason kept their enthusiasm in check. "We'll be good, Dad," David promised.

"Thank you. Ah, we're here," Frederic said as he felt the tremor go through the massive ship. "Come on, pack some clothes. We're going through the portal plant."

David and Jessica exchanged meaningful glances. The portal plant was only used when transporting people through shields…or cloaks. In a matter of minutes, both children had gotten some clothes. Barely ten minutes after the alert had first come in, Frederic, Jessica and David left the ship. A minute later, Frederic was back, and discontinued the portal. He transported to the bridge immediately.

"Status?"

"One warship of unknown design and power. Holding on the far side of the moon. A strike team has entered our secured area."

"Good. That means that our interference field is still up, and they can't fry the fleet from orbit. Contact the warship," Frederic said.

"This is Frederic Fromthefield of the Earth Strategic Mental Forces. Recall your strike team, and prepare to surrender."

"They're ignoring us, sir," Daphnix reported.

"Drop cloak and raise shields. Defcon 4."

Defcon 4. Defcon 4. Prepare for war. Prepare for war. Borlan's heavy voice boomed over the ship. Holst's Planets started playing.

A barrage of something hit the Ortega's shields.

"Sir! Shields down to 75%! Whatever they hit us with, it was massive!"

"Retaliate! Full quantum pellet guns!"

The unknown warship craftily evaded the quantum pellet guns.

"How did they do that?" Frederic barked. "D, compensate! Use phasers and antimatter torpedoes!"

The massive battlecarrier fired volley after volley of torpedoes. Most of them exploded around the unknown warship, but they never seemed to do them any damage. The quantum pellet guns were stretched to their limits as Daphnix laid down a carpet with the destructive pellets. The ship seemed to dodge all of the pellets, the ones that actually hit doing very little amount of damage.

"Their shields are down to 85%! Ours are down to 55!" Daphnix shouted as he attempted yet another strategy. "They're using zero-point weapons and shields!"

"Damn! We only have the zero point reactors. Prepare to assimilate the ship! We need new equipment, pronto! D, prepare for ramming speed!"

"Yes, sir!" The entire forward compartment of the Ortega was empty, and could therefore be sacrificed. But on the other hand, no one could know with how hard a bang the unknown ship would go down.

"Coalition course plotted! Ramming speed ready!" Daphnix reported.

"Engage," Frederic sit, holding tight to his chair. He saw Jennifer brace herself as well. Daphnix did the same, after tapping the confirmation into the panel. The battlecarrier bore down on the unknown ship at full quantum velocity. Less than one second after the countdown ended, the Ortega had hit the unknown ship. No matter how good the shields, no ship could survive a direct coalition with a ship the size of the Ortega.

Frederic opened his eyes barely a couple of seconds after a massive explosion had destroyed most of his ship. He looked dazedly around the bridge, and saw that most of it had been destroyed, probably just like the rest of the ship. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Daphnix and Jennifer crawl up from under the debris as well.

"Linda?" he asked. "Borlan? Are you there?"

sys…damaged. …able…compensate.

"Damn. Jenny, what's the status on the first two zero-point reactors?" he asked. Their immortal physiology had already healed their wounds.

"As far as I can see, it's stable."

"Good. Release the nanoprobes. Tell them to integrate the Ortega with the zero-point weapons and shields of the WS Ortega. Tell them to give our ship a Quadranium hull as well."

"Nanoprobes released. They're repairing the power grid first. They're estimating a full repair time of somewhere around 24 hours."

"Good," Frederic said. "Let's get down there before those strike teams destroy the rest of our ships," Frederic walked to a cabinet. After removing some debris in front of it, he opened it. He handed out the warrior packs to his two friends and himself. Those were always kept fully stocked, and Frederic knew he could get the Yamato and the Endeavor to help the Ortega with a fusion battery to start their reactors.

After opening the airlocks, the three warriors flew down to the lunar surface. All of them had a firm grasp on their emotions, yet neither of them looked around at the Ortega. None of them could bear the thought of having to look at the ship they had called home for so long. Not in the state it was in now.

Their mental senses locked on to the small strike team, just as it was about to enter the Yamato.

The three immortal warriors laid down fire on the thirty people present near the Yamato's airlock. The people hurriedly disappeared inside. Finally, the three warriors managed to corner the intruders in the massive hangar of the Yamato.

As the fighting continued, Vicky and Sarah could see that the three people Zells had seen as his enemies, were far nobler than he was. He could see them looking out for each other, and it made them hesitant to fire. For some reason, the leader was awfully familiar.

But, when Vicky saw an opening, she went for it. Years of training and experience came to a culmination as she took a shot at the woman's back. The leader had seen the shot, however. Vicky knew he could never get her out of the way in time. But then the leader did something that astounded her: he dove right in the path of the quantum charge, stopping it completely.

Vicky and Sarah looked astonished. Never had they seen someone act like that. Why did that man dive in front of that charge? Why had he allowed himself to die in order to save his woman?

As the third warrior continued on alone, Vicky could see how the woman held the warrior's body, cradling it. The third warrior dropped his guns, and started charging with a sword. Vicky's eyes grew wide. A sword? She saw the third warrior disappear in a blur as his sword destroyed the rest of Zells' men.

Vicky stopped Zells, who was beginning to slip towards the exit.

"Where do you think you are going?" she barked at him, holding him by his space-suited neck. Vicky and Sarah saw the third warrior appear next to them. Vicky nodded at him. Vicky looked at Sarah. Sarah looked at Vicky. Both looked totally confused at each other. So did the third warrior, for that matter. He obviously had no idea what to do with the two girls who seemed to have abandoned all hostilities.

When the first two warriors joined the small group, Vicky's mouth fell open.

"I…I saw you get killed!" She shouted.

"I'm a fast healer," he responded, eyeing her coldly. Vicky ignored him.

"You abused our trust a final time, Zells. We followed your orders because you paid. No more. Cowardice in battle is punishable…by death."

She pushed herself away from Zells, landing further back than she intended because of the lower gravity, and aimed her gun at him.

"You made these people look like animals, which they obviously aren't, and you did nothing to earn our respect. You're cowardly and despicable. I will now terminate you," Vicky told him, her voice cold enough to freeze liquid nitrogen.

"No." the first warrior put his hand on her arm. "We can put him to trial. He has committed monstrosities against us, too."

"Just let her shoot him!" she heard the third warrior shout. The first warrior shook his head.

"There are better ways to punish someone."

Vicky looked into the eyes of the warrior. Why did he look at her with such warmth? She had almost killed him earlier.

"Why are you so kind to me?" she asked. "I almost killed you."

"Yes, but you didn't. And the fact that you were lied to gives you the benefit of the doubt."

Vicky looked at Sarah, a lost look in her eyes. Sarah looked back, equally confused. Vicky made a decision. She just hoped it was the right one. She lowered her arm, and said, "I am Vicky. I, and my companion Sarah, would like to ask for asylum with you."

"We can talk about that later," the first warrior said. "I am Frederic, that is my wife Jennifer, and that is my best friend Daphnix."

"Where did you plant explosives?" Daphnix asked.

Vicky answered truthfully.

"I'll be back," he said.

"Sarah, go with him," Vicky told her partner. "He'll need a demolitions expert."

"No I won't," Daphnix told her icily, and disappeared. Jennifer and Frederic looked strangely at the two children.

"Demolitions expert?" Frederic asked.

Vicky sighed. This was going to be a long talk, and told Frederic so. By the time Daphnix came back, Frederic had powered up the Yamato, and it was now comfortable to live in.

With Zells in a cell, and her new acquaintances gathered around a table in a bare living room, Vicky told the story of herself and Sarah.

"Poor things," Jennifer said as Vicky related their story.

Vicky looked incomprehensively uncomprehendingly at her. "Why?" she asked. "We did what we were trained to do…and bred to do."

"So was I, as well as my friend," Frederic said.

Vicky looked at Frederic. Now she knew where she had seen his face before. Older, more worn, but it was him. A cold panic wormed its way to her heart. Her mind refused to think and her breath stuck in her throat.

"The first," she croaked. "You're the first-gens…"

Sarah looked like a stricken animal as she rushed to her partner's side. She got between her friend and the rest of the people, not knowing what to do. The first generations were supposed to carry tremendous powers, near-invincible soldiers, but the project had been a complete failure. Now here they were: the two first-generation warriors, obviously fully intact.

"Vicky?" Sarah's voice was small, as she looked at her partner's face, which had an ashen-white complexion. Sarah had never researched the first gens, but Vicky had. And Sarah had never been very interested in the project either. She had just accepted that they were very strong, and that they had been terminated when their powers didn't surface. It was obvious that something strong had overwhelmed Vicky. And to overwhelm a fighting machine of Vicky's caliber, it had to be huge.

Sarah backed off a little, allowing herself to kneel next to her fallen comrade, so she could touch her. Sarah put her hand on Vicky's forehead, giving Vicky something to hold on to. She knew what she was doing. By giving Vicky an outside stimulus, Sarah allowed Vicky a means to escape whatever had put her in this condition.

It had only taken a few seconds, but by now the others had gotten over their shock.

"Stay back," Sarah warned. The others just raised their hands, and backed off a little. Sarah gave a curt nod. "I do not wish to fight you, but I will if I have to. Now, tell me what you did to her."

"We didn't do anything to her," Frederic said.

"You two are the legendary first generations. Your powers are unsurpassed. Vicky and I are the second generation of the same program. We are unsurpassed, except for the first generations. You are the only ones capable of doing this to her."

"Well, we didn't," Daphnix snorted. Sarah shot him an angry look.

Vicky groaned as she came out of her unconsciousness. "Alright?" Sarah asked.

"So-so," Vicky responded. Her training took over, and she scanned the room. Sarah was in a protective position, the other were standing on the other side of the room. Vicky slowly got up, and Sarah followed her movements.

"What do we do?" Sarah asked.

"Those people did nothing wrong, Lieutenant. I was overwhelmed."

"You sure, Captain?"

Vicky put her hand on Sarah's blonde hair. "I am. Thanks for caring."

"You're my commanding officer. It would be too much paperwork to get another."

Vicky shot her partner a grin. "Certainly now that we've destroyed Section X. Come on, have a seat. We have to finish the story."

Sarah gave a curt nod, and sat down in the same seat. Everyone expected her to sit closer to Vicky, yet she didn't. The thought didn't even seem to cross her mind. Vicky sat down in her chair, and looked at the three people who were still standing.

"I am fine. I was overwhelmed to find you still alive. Ever since I knew about the first generations, I have been amassing information about you. You came to be something like heroes to me, and to find out that you are alive, combined with the recent stress, I guess it all was a little too much."

Frederic and his two companions sat down as well. Vicky continued exactly where she had left off. The hardest part was when she was forced to admit what she had done under Zells' command. The others were shocked at her sheer brutality, her coldness and total lack of any emotions when it came to following orders.

"You tortured and killed Andreas?" Frederic's voice was cold, harsh, and angry. Vicky didn't cringe. She had been trained without regret, and never experienced the emotion.

"What has been done has been done," she said coldly. "There is nothing I or anyone else can do about it. Expressing regret is useless as it does not change anything."

For a moment, she thought Fred was going to attack her. Her combat abilities went to full alert, and she felt the adrenaline and endorphins flood her system. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sarah's eyes narrow just the tiniest of bits. Over the past few years, she had learned to tell the signs, and she knew that Sarah was at war mode as well.

"You are completely right, but expressing regret is like telling someone you are sorry. But we're not here for lessons in humanity. I'm sorry, but you'll have to move to a cell."

Vicky gave a cold smile. "That would be unwise, as we have other information for you. Information that would prove invaluable."

"And that information is?" Frederic asked.

"If I told you, we'd be behind bars. That would be unwise from my part," Vicky said with a cocky grin. "You need me to provide you with information on the entity known as Sorcerer. This entity provided us with the advanced scout that nearly destroyed your ship."

"A…scout?" Daphnix gulped. "That was a scout? A scout that matched the Ortega's weaponry?"

"That ship is sent to determine the opponent's strength before the Earth Imperial War Fleet comes in and makes the populace its slaves," Vicky told Daphnix.

"But our time in the Sorcerer's universe has not been wasted. We have information on shields, weapons, drives, hulls, materials, as well as inside information on battle tactics. But neither of us is so unwise as to provide you with everything we know, since your desire is to put us in a cell," Sarah said.

"Correct. We did nothing wrong. While we were in Zells' service, we were his soldiers, and did as we were told to do. You do not punish the sword that kills a person, nor do you punish the gun if it shoots someone. You punish the person who is owner of the hand that wields the blade, or that holds the gun. We were tools, just as we have been trained to be," Vicky said.

The other three were dumbstruck. This was how they saw themselves? As tools?

"Now, unless we are allowed asylum, a position to fight side-by-side with you, and a guarantee that we will not be harmed, incarcerated, or hurt in any way, we will simply leave, denying you with invaluable tactical information, and a chance to end this war before it has even started."

"How?" Frederic wanted to know.

Vicky laughed again. "We're not that stupid. Give us the guarantee, total access to your computer to verify it, and a chance to install backdoors, so we can escape if you turn on your deal. Then we will talk."

"Linda. Take note. As of this day, I am granting full asylum for Vicky and Sarah, a commission in the ESMF as tactical advisors, and a full pardon for their part in the death of Andreas Anderson."

So noted.

"We have heard about you. Linda, artificial life form." Vicky knew that the first move had been made.

Good things, I hope.

Vicky gave a rare friendly smile. "Oh, yes. Zells hated you even more than he hated the Brat. Everyone Zells hates I have got to meet," Vicky laughed.

Brat?

"Frederic."

Linda laughed out loud. I'll have to remember that one. The Brat… You like that, don't you Fred?

Frederic look sour. "Ha ha. Funny. Now, I believe you have something to tell us?"

Vicky asked herself if she could trust Frederic. He had made the first move, and the ball was in her camp. Trust came both ways. He had trusted her, now it was her turn. She decided she would trust him. It was not something that came easily to her, but she would make the effort. Vicky dipped her head. "Of course. May I have access to your computer? It will be faster if I just put the information directly into your computer."

Frederic made an inviting motion to the replicator. Vicky, having seen a similar device on board the warships of Sorcerer, walked over to it. She started tapping. It didn't take her long to enter the computer trance. It took her about ten minutes to enter all the data she had.

Information received. Processing…oh no…

"Linda? What's happened?" Frederic asked, worried. He shot a glance at his guests. If they'd done anything to Linda he'd…

I'm scared.

Those few words etched themselves into the depths of the three warrior's souls.

This Sorcerer has a battleship. He calls it a dreadnought. He has FOUR of those things. They are four times the dimensions of a battlecarrier, of which he has five. They're fully loaded with everything ranging from fighters, over the Destroyer-class scouts, to something called a Warcruiser, basically a battlecarrier, but without the bays. His weapons are…off the scale. He has this beam called a quantum inversion beam. It simply reverses all matter with anti-matter.

"What? He turns matter into anti-matter and anti-matter into matter?"

Except for the biological creatures… which is why the targets blow up with such a huge boom. But, against planets, he's got something better. And this is what frightens me the most, called a multi-spectral shift inverter. Quite simply, it pushes an object, any object, out of the space-time continuum. It then lets go, literally smashing the object to pieces against the space-time continuum. The quantum stresses tear the target to pieces in seconds. These records indicate that Sorcerer uses it as a planet buster. It's a huge gun, so only the dreadnoughts carry them, but the rest of the weaponry on the dreadnoughts make them almost indestructible.

The only thing that is protecting us now is a region of reversed quantum interference around his universe. It prevents any exchange of biological matter native to that universe across the dimensional threshold. However, he is very advanced in the field of quantum research, and I guess it won't be long before he finds a way through it. And then, he'll be able to use his ships to their fullest extent. The warship we encountered was downgraded, stripped of its bio-neural core, nanites, and its bio-metal hull.

"Damn," Frederic muttered. "Vicky, you said you had something that would stop the war before it even started, yes?"

Vicky nodded. "Sorcerer invited you to a one-on-one match. Winner takes all. He wins, he takes your fleet, your people, and your wife. You win, you get his fleet, and his empire."

"My WIFE?"

Vicky shrugged. "He seemed lonely. He said he would take your wife if you lost."

"If it weren't for that bet, I'd jump at the chance," Frederic said.

"Sir, with all due respect, if you don't fight, he'll find a way to cross the reversed quantum interference, and he will destroy you," Vicky told him.

Frederic just nodded. "Then I'll just have to make sure I win. Linda, what's the status on the Ortega?"

Ortega will be fully repaired within 4 days.

"What's the status on the Yamato?"

Fully charged.

"Get the Endeavor online with energy from the Yamato. As soon as the Endeavor is online, have it start the mobile command center, and have the Yamato boost energy to the Ortega. As soon as the mobile command center is online, have it and the Endeavor boot the Ortega as well. I want it operational as soon as possible. When it's finished, begin the full assimilation of every ship we have. And get me a small container of nanoprobes for personal use."

Yes, sir. Endeavor starting. Endeavor operational, and charging. Yamato now boosting Ortega. Ortega operational in 2.5 days. Endeavor starting command center. Command center operational. Endeavor boosting Ortega. Ortega operational in 1 day. Command center charged, and boosting Ortega. Ortega ready in 12 hours. Creating canister of nanoprobes.

The canister appeared on the table, and Frederic took it.

"In 12 hours, we'll set a course for Sorcerer's universe. We all have work to do. What will you be doing meanwhile?" Frederic asked Vicky.

"Sarah and I will be going over our encounter with Sorcerer, to see if we have missed anything," Vicky answered.

Frederic gave a nod, and he and his two friends left the room.

"That went well," Vicky commented. "For a moment, I thought they were going to lynch us."

Sarah just nodded. "But we're both smart enough to get us out of it," she then responded.

"We are good, aren't we?" She said, leaning back in the seat. She could feel herself relax now, and the stress of the last few hours slid off her. As she looked at her partner and friend, Vicky saw that Sarah had finally succumb to the stress, and had fallen asleep.

After putting a blanket over the sleeping girl, Vicky returned to her seat, holding a quiet vigil.

Three hours later, Sarah awoke from her sleep. Not a word was said about her sleep, and the conversation started with their encounter with Sorcerer immediately.

Sorcerer sat in his throne room, staring into the nothingness. He liked the nothingness. It soothed him, calmed his raging nerves. After receiving the news that his advanced scout had been destroyed, he wondered whether or not he should have sent a cruiser instead of a scout. But that was not his primary concern. He had hoped on a challenge at last, and now it seemed as if his chance had been spoiled. He had ordered his entire science team to begin researching all possibilities to break the reverse quantum interference that was keeping him and his fleet in.

When the red lights in the throne room blinked, he opened his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked the panel in his right armrest.

"There is an incoming communication. Sir, it's interdimensional."

"Interdimensional?" Sorcerer asked. "Put it on screen."

The holographic screen appeared in mid-air, and Sorcerer peered out from under his masking hood. He gave a small grin when he recognized the person on the screen. But his attention drew to the divine creature that was standing next to him. Jennifer… Sorcerer had to grin at the discomfort he once felt when dealing with her.

"This is Sorcerer, Emperor of the Imperial Earth Empire."

"You wanted a one-on-one fight, correct?" Frederic asked.

"Correct. Everyone can come up and challenge me. Unfortunately, not many chose to do so. May I ask who my bold opponent is?"

"I am Frederic Fromthefield, Phalanx of the Human, Oech-anya and Ketari races, commander of the ESMF, Master Slayer, Jedi Knight, and personal champion to the Gods of the Universe."

Sorcerer was not impressed. "I asked for your name, not your entire life-story," he said. "But your challenge has been accepted. Get your butt over here, so I can kick it. When would be convenient for you?"

"How about right now?"

"That would be fine," Sorcerer said. "I will be expecting you. Once you have reached my universe, set a course for the Dreadnought Adolf Hitler. You will be eagerly awaited there."

Frederic dipped his head, and the communication terminated.

Good. It looks like Vicky managed to get the challenge across. Unfortunately, since the scout is destroyed, she's probably dead as well. Oh well, she'll be fine, wherever she is. Too bad, she was an interesting girl… I wouldn't have minded her if I can't have Jennifer.

Frederic screamed out as the nanoprobes assimilated him. He could feel the adaptations beginning to take effect, his upgraded unstable genome being stabilized by the tiny cyborgs. He was once more as he had been when he had gone off the deep end to get Jennifer back. All changes were here. All, except for two. He hadn't changed his personality yet, and he didn't carry the authorization of the gods of the Universe with him. He was planning on changing his personality as soon as he was on Sorcerer's ship, though.

Armed to the teeth with all the technological and magical items that were available, Frederic stepped on board the PSS Daedalus IV. The Daedalus IV was basically the Daedalus III, only now it was fully upgraded with all the technological advances BorgFred had given them. Frederic put in the course, and activated the engines. The last thing he did before crossing over was send through the link to Jennifer: I love you. He got the same message back from her. His heart at ease, he drove the Daedalus through the crossing. As soon as the crossing closed, he felt his link to Jennifer being closed.

"Linda, where's the Hitler?"

Linda piloted him to the enormous dreadnought, the sight of which took Frederic's breath away. He calmed himself as the ship entered one of the truly massive fighter bays, literally the size of the Ortega. He was awaited by a delegation of people, who received him with the utmost honor and respect. All of the were dressed in long robes, but Frederic wasn't fooled. Every one of them was armed, carrying weapons under those long robes.

"Please, right this way, sir," one of the men said. "Our Lord is expecting you."

Frederic dipped his head in response, and followed the delegation. After a brisk walk of ten minutes, he entered what appeared to be a throne room. The delegation bowed to the cloaked and hooded figure on the throne, and left the room. Frederic looked around, finding the view not at all intimidating. It was a spacious hall, decorated with various weapons on the wall. Now he was impressed, as he found out that over half the weapons on this Sorcerer's wall were totally unknown to him.

"Shall we get ready?" the robed figure on the throne asked.

Frederic nodded. "Very well," he said.

"I hope you don't mind if this fight is broadcast on a public channel," Sorcerer said, punching a few keys on his armrest.

"Not at all," Frederic responded. He tapped a key on his armored arm. "Ortega, find transmission of fight," he said.

Sorcerer's hooded head nodded. "It is always best to have both parties watch," he responded.

"Now, how shall this fight happen?" Frederic asked.

"Just fight me. He who dies, loses," Sorcerer responded calmly.

"I can't attack someone who hasn't harmed me," Frederic responded evenly. He soon wished he hadn't. Sorcerer's gauntleted hand shot out, and a ball of energy enveloped Frederic's body. He was catapulted back against the wall. He jumped up, unsheathed his Human Sword, and charged. Sorcerer blasted him before he traveled one quarter of the throne room's length.

I can't win if I use physical attacks. Frederic realized. He attacked with a third-level fireball. To his surprise, Sorcerer deactivated the fireball before it reached the halfway point.

"What was that?" he asked. "Why did you use such an archaic spell? Spells like that haven't been used in over three thousand years!"

"What are you talking about?" Frederic said, shock written clearly on his face.

Can it be? Can it truly be that this is the highest form of magic you know? On my world, magic has evolved constantly, always being researched, its potency increased, its strength augmented, made more efficient… "You use a bow and arrow compared to my plasma accelerator guns!" Sorcerer laughed.

Frederic attacked with a Force-reinforced telekinesis attack. Sorcerer raised his hand. "Mana shield. 25%," Sorcerer said. The attack was absorbed. "Golem. Fifth class," Sorcerer added. A golem appeared in front of him.

"Get rid of the nuisance," Sorcerer grunted, sitting back on his throne. "I was hoping for a challenge, and I got a nuisance instead."

"Nuisance? Me?" Frederic's control burst. He slammed his own warrior personality in place, and attacked with all the strength he could muster. His body moved at mach-speeds as he cut the golem to pieces.

"Not impressed," Sorcerer grunted. "Golem, fourth class."

This golem as well was cut to pieces, although with a little more difficulty this time.

"Boring," Sorcerer grunted. His two gauntleted hands reached from under his robe. He carried two Swords. Frederic, seeing his invitation, attacked. Full force. The four Swords clashed against each other, completely astonishing Frederic as to how Sorcerer was able to keep up with him. Finally, Frederic got an attack through Sorcerer's defense.

Sorcerer's robe fell, exposing his body, and his face.

"Recognize me?" Sorcerer asked, laughing. "I am ashamed that you are my dimensional twin! Look at you! You're weak! Hiding behind nanoprobes to augment your body! While I, all I have to do is use an augmentation spell!"

"You talk too much," Frederic said, and attacked. Sorcerer retaliated. Frederic found himself pressed on the defense, his ears ringing with the continuous thunder of the mach-speeds both warriors were reaching.

Frederic attempted to use his magic, only to find it deactivated even before the spell had fully formed yet.

"It's no use," Sorcerer said. "I can deactivate that magic as a pure reaction! Every magician on my planet can beat you!"

Frederic lashed out with his force, and his mental powers, only to find them burst to pieces on a mana shield. He put his Swords back in their sheaths. Frederic had realized he wouldn't get though. Not this way. Only technology could save him now. He unclipped the deactivated dual-blade light saber. Sorcerer laughed.

"This is fun!" he shouted as he retaliated with his own…dual blade light saber. Frederic was thrown off guard, and found himself impaled on one of the energy rods. As Sorcerer withdrew the weapon, Frederic's chest healed in a matter of seconds.

"Another difference between you and me," Sorcerer said. "I had to break into the vaults on Avalon."

Frederic grabbed his pistols, and started firing. Sorcerer raised his mana shield to 50%, and didn't even bother to dodge. Frederic's eyes grew wide.

"FUCK!" he shouted. "Won't you ever die?"

"Nope," Sorcerer grinned. "But before you do, allow me to teach you something." Assuming a teacher's pose, hands linked behind his back, Sorcerer stood before Frederic, who was still holding the empty guns.

"You see, you and I, we have the exact same amount of mana. We can both do the same things. But, look at it this way. I am a martial artist. You are a caveman, coming at me with a crude wooden club. If you can sneak up on me, you might get a hit in. But, I am no mere martial artist. Thanks to the Force, and to my mental abilities, you can't blind-side me."

Frederic threw a level five stone curse. Sorcerer deactivated it while continuing his speech. "You know, I should have been a teacher," he said, turning to Frederic. "And you see, there are other things that are to my advantage. According to my reports, you are a phalanx for what? Four years? Five years, now? I have been one for 20 years. And in those twenty years, I have done nothing but fight. Fight on the side of Nazi-Germany, developing my magical abilities, fighting against the alien races I've encountered, eradicating lots and enslaving more. As you can see on my wall, there are lots of new weapons, and lots of new fighting techniques I have learned to use. Basically, you don't stand a chance."

Frederic growled. He let loose, and changed into the Elemental Dragon. Sorcerer, meanwhile, continued his lecture through the transformation of his adversary.

"Ah, the Elemental Dragon. You know, I'm surprised you didn't try to Oech-anya War Song first. But, it's your choice. You can use the Dra…"

Magic attacked with a level-12 stone curse, while all the four elements, augmented by Psychic, attacked Sorcerer full-force. Sorcerer screamed at the four elements, as well as Psychic's, attacks got through to him. He writhed in agony.

"That was impolite," Sorcerer said. "I was talking." The look on The Elemental Dragon's faces was one of pure astonishment. Again, the six heads attacked. Life, the seventh head, still refused to fight.

This time, Sorcerer dodged. "Enhance level," Sorcerer said, and a strange glow surrounded his body. His speed nearly quadrupled as he dodged between the various attacks. Suddenly, instead of jumping sideways, he jumped up, and planted a Sword deep in the Dragon's belly. The Dragon let out a long howl, and slowly crashed to the floor.

Sorcerer stepped back as the seven heads fell to the floor. Slowly, the body reverted back to Frederic. "You are pathetic," Sorcerer said, and his second Sword came racing down. Frederic's eyes turned back in their sockets as they caught a glimpse of his own body.

The bridge of the Ortega was silent. Vicky and Sarah because they didn't know what would happen now, and Daphnix and Jennifer because they were in shock.

"No," Jennifer whispered. The whisper sounded like a gunshot on the deadly quiet bridge. It seemed to break Daphnix's trance.

"Get him out of there!" he shouted to Linda. "Use the extreme-range interdimensional spatial relocator! And don't give me any experimental crap!"

Executing.

The engines created a dimensional vortex, and the relocator folded space through the tunnel. Frederic's body, and his head, appeared on the bridge.

"Close it!" Daphnix shouted. The vortex closed immediately. Obviously, Linda was in shock as well, or she would have closed the vortex as soon as the relocation was complete.

We have fried the relocator grid. Nanoprobes are repairing it as we speak. Borlan's voice sent shivers down the spines of everyone there. Both Daphnix and Jennifer knew what it meant. Linda had withdrawn.

Then, Daphnix looked confused.

"Do you feel that?" he asked Jennifer.

"Weak?" she asked. Daphnix nodded.

"He's no longer here to boost us," Jennifer said, the events still not sinking in. She felt dazed, as if this were all a dream.

"My Sword!" Daphnix shouted. "Where is my Sword of Destiny?"

Jennifer looked at him, tears finally beginning to well up. "Without Fred, everything reverts back to the vaults on Avalon, remember?"

Daphnix sighed. "I still can't believe it… I mean, he was so strong, and to die at the hands of that bastard…"

Incoming communication.

"On screen," Daphnix whispered.

"Your champion has lost. You reclaiming his body is of no consequence. I hereby claim my prize." Sorcerer was dressed in a new robe, a hood pulled over his head.

"Fuck off," Daphnix told him. Sorcerer sighed.

"Why does it always come to this?" he said. His robed shoulders shrugged. "Oh well. Prepare for war. To quote the Vikings: Our souls cry out for the blood of beasts, that runs like a river through the night, flowing, flowing, what a feast, that makes us men and gives us might. I expect to see your blood color the Milky Way red, and your heads to decorate my trophy room." The communication closed.

Incoming communication from Barbara.

'"On screen," Jennifer whispered. Daphnix finally had the state of mind to put his arms around Jennifer, who was now cradling Frederic's lifeless body.

"What ha…" he voice broke off as she saw what Jennifer was holding in her arms. "Oh, no… please, gods, no!" she started screaming. Sonya and Michelle were seen, running into view, asking what is wrong. When they cast a glance at the screen, they turned pale.

"My God…what happened?" Sonya managed to croak out.

"Sorcerer," Daphnix managed. "He challenged Fred, to avoid war, Fred lost."

"We'll arrange everything. Don't worry," Sonya had regained some strength. This was the time she had to be strong, for Daphnix, for Jennifer, for Barbara.

"The Slayers were calling, asking why their weapons disappeared. Now we know. Don't worry, I'll take of everything." Sonya said.

"Daphnix gave her a grateful nod, his own strength dissolving quickly as he held the sobbing woman in his arms. He didn't want to think how the two children would react to this news. Tears stained his clothes as he held on to Jennifer, letting her know that she was not alone.

Vicky and Sarah didn't know what to do. There was war, the commander was dead, and his fleet was far from being combat ready. They decided to split, and let the other people cry. They would be going over analysis to look for weaknesses in Sorcerer's seemingly undefeatable fleet.

Sonya looked at the screen, the lights flashing indicating the Slayers on hold. She pressed a button labeled 'conference'. All the Slayers appeared on the same screen. All looked strangely at one another, then back to Sonya. Buffy was the first to notice that something was wrong.

"Sonya? Where's Barbara?"

"She's in bed," Sonya answered. Every word was deliberate, chosen, her mind refusing to give into the sorrow she felt. She had to bring the news first. Then she could cry. "Frederic is… he's…"

"Oh, no…" Buffy said. "Don't tell me he's dead?"

Sonya couldn't help herself. She just nodded as she started crying in loud sobs as he buried her face in her hands. The Slayers turned silent. All of them offered their condolences, and closed the connection. Like one man or woman, they began preparations to go to universe001. All of them prepared for war. They all swore bloody revenge as tears streamed down their cheeks after they told their comrades.

Jennifer sat in the command chair of the Ortega, staring out into empty space. Her mind felt empty, as did her heart. She remembered her promise to Frederic: if she couldn't hold it, she would join him… but now that she had children, she knew she had to live. For them. For Humanity. She didn't want Humanity to fall into Sorcerer's hands, just like Frederic had fallen to them.

Fresh tears announced themselves. She let them flow freely, as she no longer possessed the strength to fight them. Quietly, she sat there sobbing as she stared out into the vastness of space. She began to wonder where Frederic would be now. Was he happy? She looked away from the screen, and once again, buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook under her sobs.

"Why?" she groaned. "Why was he taken from me? Where were the Gods? Where were those bastards?!" she shouted to the empty bridge.

"We were too late," a voice answered her. The voice of the Wise One!

Mustering all the strength her battered body could give her, Jennifer got up from the chair. She walked over to the figure, and slapped him right in the face.

"Where is he?" she screamed. "What have you done to him?"

"I wish I knew," the God sadly replied. "The regions of the dead are inaccessible to us, Gods of the Living. And asking the Guardian of the Crossroads to look for Frederic's spirit can takes thousands of years, if he hasn't been reborn, that is. If he has been reborn, there is no way of knowing where he is. Or who he is," the God answered.

"What do you mean, you don't know? And why can't you just go look for him?"

"Do you have any idea how many spirits there are in the entire Crossroad Realm? Do you have any idea how many spirits have permanently left the circle of birth and rebirth?" The God yelled back. His raised voice seemed to bring her out of her stupor. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled…" Jennifer's voice was weak as the last of her strength left her.

"Poor child," the God said, holding her up, and guiding her to the command chair. "Here, have a seat. I came here to ask you for your permission to be at the funeral."

Jennifer looked at him. "You've given him life," she said, "It would be an honor to him if you would lead the funeral. I know you haven't exactly seen eye-to-eye lately, but please…"

The God just nodded. "I know. I'll do it," he said, putting a hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "You and Frederic have done many good deeds, along with all your friends. If you ever need someone to talk to, please come to the temple at Stonehenge. It may not be me, but there will be one of the Gods there to listen, if you need it."

The offer broke through the shroud in Jennifer's mind. Something registered. The Gods hadn't directly interfered for so long, and for her…for Frederic, they were willing to make an exception…"Thank you," her voice croaked and new tears welled up.

"Is there anything you need?" the God asked. She just shook her head. The God vanished, a look of sadness on his face.

Three days later, most of the ESMF had gathered in large places, namely the fighter bays of the battlecarriers. The Master Slayers, Frederic's last relatives (his sister and grandfather), the command crew of the ESMF, and a lot of other people were gathered in a large room, prepared especially for this occasion, by the nanoprobes. A gift from Borlan, who had done his very best to take over for his sister, Linda, who was still in no shape to resume her duties. It had not been easy for the battle-oriented life form, but he had managed. He had prepared this hall for his father's funeral, an honor he did understand. He had been programmed not to feel any emotions, but some of his programs did feel the loss of the man he had always looked up to, the man who had created him. Borlan knew that this emptiness would always be there, and he wondered how the others, who did have feelings, managed to cope with it.

The Gods of the Universe had all shown up, all 6 of them. The Wise One had led the people through the ceremony, which was basically nothing more than a chance to say goodbye, while the five other Gods remained in the background, holding a respectful silence.

One by one, people came to the stand, telling how they met Frederic, what he had done for them, and how they would miss him.

When the President of the United Federation of Planets took the stand, Daphnix looked on in curiosity. He had seen The Enterprise, the Defiant, and the Voyager here, as well as their crews, but he had not seen the President before now.

"When Captain Picard came to me with a last-effort solution to save the Federation, I was skeptical, to say the least. But when this young and brave warrior helped us, at the cost of his own honeymoon, nonetheless, I knew I had met someone special. Someone who would do everything he could, who would give all he had to give, to help his fellow man. I was honored to have met such a brave person, and I know that a lot of my staff felt the same. I know The Federation has lost a valued ally today, and I, and a lot of my people, have lost a deep personal friend. But rest assured. He will always live in our hearts. All that is left to say, is this: Frederic Fromthefield, from the bottom of our hearts, thank you."

Daphnix looked over to Jennifer, and he could see her hugging David and Jessica closer to her sides. Both had burrowed their faces in their mother's black dress, obviously crying. Jennifer herself didn't look in any better condition, her eyes puffy and red. Daphnix knew that the toughest for him had yet to come. And he knew that Jennifer had a tough job as well.

Daphnix collected his last shards of willpower, and walked to the front.

"When I was 6 years old, I was alone. Nobody wanted to have anything to do with me, because I was smart. I was avoided by most, and bullied by the rest. I was alone, and I didn't have anyone to help me. Then, one day, someone came over to me, and offered me a handkerchief to dry my tears. That someone became the best friend someone could ever wish for. Frederic, my friend, my brother, to you, all I can say is farewell, and I know we'll see each other again, some day." Daphnix solemnly walked over to the casket, pulled out an old and ragged looking handkerchief, and put it on top of the casket. "I never gave this back to you, my brother. May it bring you good luck, wherever you are now."

Barbara told the people how she used to tease Frederic, and how she had seen him evolve. She told how proud she was of her little brother, of all that he had accomplished, and of all the friends he had made. BorgFred came up, and told everyone there how he owed his life, his sanity, and his chance to love again to Frederic.

Then, Jennifer climbed the stage. Everyone's heart went out for her, and almost as if she could feel it, she drew strength from it.

"I was trained to be an Amazon," she began. "And I was always told that the Phalanx was as close to Divinity as a Human could ever be. When the Phalanx came to our village, and I fell in love with him, I couldn't be more overjoyed that the feelings were mutual. However, when time progressed, I found out that the Phalanx was just an ordinary man. And when I looked deep within my own heat, I found out that my feelings only had intensified since I came to accept his Human weaknesses. To the man who was my husband, my soul mate, my confidant, all I could ever say to you are these three simple words: I love you'. Those were the last three words you said to me, and those were the last three words I said to you. Rest at peace, my love, and know that I will always treasure you in my heart." Jennifer's voice threatened to give. She swallowed a couple of times, regaining strength. There was still something she wanted to do.

"To you, I offer this song, by Mieke Telkamp," Jennifer said. Her angel-like voice rose to the skies as she sang:

(Author's note: original Dutch text is on the left. I have included an English translation on the right, keeping the text as close to the original as I could, unfortunately, the rhyme is probably lost, as well as the rhythm.)

Waarheen leidt de weg, die we moeten gaan?	Whereto leads the road we must travel?
Waarvoor zijn wij apart?	Wherefore are we separated?
Wie weet wat er is achter ster en maan?	Who knows what lies behind star and moon?
Hoelang duurt nog de nacht?	How long lasts the night?

When the song called for a male voice, to hum on the background, Daphnix joined in. Even though he wasn't a great singer, he wanted to pay this honor to his best friend, and to the valiant efforts of his wife.

Waar ligt het land waar we mogen zijn?	Where lies the country where we can be?
En wat is de taak die ons wacht?	And what is the task that awaits us?
Waar is de geest die met ons leeft?	Where is the spirit that lives with us?
Die ons de vrede geeft?	That gives us peace?

And when the song called for the male voice to sing, instead of just hum, Daphnix never thought about stopping.

Waar staat de poort, die ons binnen laat?	Where stands the gate, that lets us in?
En die ons ook beschermd?	And that protects us, too?
Hoeveel offers werden er gebracht?	How many sacrifices have been made?
Toch nog blijft de nacht.	And still, the night remains.

 

Waar dan is het licht op ons duistere pad?	Where then, is the light on our dark path?
De hand die ons geleidt?	The hand that guides us?
En hoe lang, ja hoe lang nog duurt de tijd?	How long, yes how long will the struggle last?
Dat wij zijn bevrijdt?	That we are freed?

 

Waarheen leidt de weg, die wij moeten gaan?	Whereto leads the road we must travel?
Waarvoor zijn wij apart?	Wherefore are we separated?
Wie weet wat er is achter ster en maan?	Who knows what lies behind star and moon?
Hoe lang duurt nog de nacht?	That gives us peace?

Many people openly cried as Jennifer and Daphnix finished the song, and Jennifer slowly walked back to her seat. Only when she was seated did she allow herself to weep. Her children hugged her from the sides, and she put her arms around them, drawing them in closer.

The woman opened her eyes. The first question that entered her mind was: where am I? Then came amore a more important question: Who am I? She looked around, after noticing that she was clothed in a long, white dress. She was standing on a road, and she could see some features in the distance. She decided to walk there. After a walk of maybe ten minutes, she was standing on what appeared to be a round town square. Many different roads intersected the square, and she could see many different styles of building erected along those roads. All except for the one she had just traveled; that one was empty.

Where is this? Do I know this place? Who am I? AARGH! I can't remember! I'm like an empty shell, a shadow of my former self! That is, if I knew my former self… hello, wait a minute.

A woman, taller than the younger woman was, and dressed in a long, formal-looking gown, walked to the younger woman.

"I am the Guardian of the crossroads," the unknown woman introduced herself.