Random Musings

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 26

Wed, 30 Dec 2009 16:35:06 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Drama

Description: A time for games.

Note: Thanks to darkstarzn for help with the Adrian and Tennyson 'battle' scene.

The psychostrategist settled comfortably into the grey chair that provided just the right amount of support. He slotted his ident-key into the narrow slot on the side. "Computer."

The screen flared to life. A 3-dimensional Empire fist logo, which he always found annoyingly lacking in subtlety, punched upwards on the screen and centred itself, slowly rotating clockwise. "Confirm identity. Sester, Charles. Requesting voice-print analysis and ident-key recognition."

A low murmur emanated from the speakers before the computer responded in a polite female voice. "Sester, Charles. Voice-print analysis and ident-key recognition, confirmed."

"Open secured comm channel." He entered the 24-digit number key on the keypad. "Request meeting with Fleet-Commander Andrew Tennyson."

"Working." This would take awhile.

Sester leaned back, relaxed, mind open to all possibilities and his fingers lightly drawing a line along the edge of the table. Everything was going according to plan within an acceptable degree of deviation.

At first, he had to admit, he was afraid he was going to be wasted on this assignment. Manipulating one man was hardly a challenge for him. He recognized the importance of the assignment of course, but it wasn't until he arrived and began studying Adrian that he appreciated the task. This was an exceptional man; someone to be handled with care. To destroy his usefulness with heavy-handed tactics - a faint sneer indicated how much Sester despised the unimaginative barbarians who inhabited Security Section - was unforgivable and completely unnecessary.

The other interest-factor was the originator of the commission. Fleet-Commander Andrew Tennyson was another brilliant man. The Comprehensive Grading Assessments of both men ranked them in the top 0.01 percentile among Firsters. In the entire Empire, there were only a handful. It was no wonder they quickly gravitated to the tops of their respective fields.

The computer's business-like feminine voice reported, "Secured channel established."

"Onscreen computer."

Andrew Tennyson possessed dead hazel eyes, and a bleak expression, like a grim reaper in human form. Neatly cut brown hair, brushed slightly forward. The silver fist emblem of a Fleet-Commander, with the letters 1^st, drew the eyes immediately, identifying him as the most powerful man in Fleet-Command. And these days, Fleet-Command ran the Empire. Unofficially, of course. Sester kept a wry smile from escaping his amused thoughts.

"You're punctual," said the Fleet-Commander.

Sester nodded once. "I don't believe in wasting time."

"Are you going to?" Tennyson leaned forward, his eyes double lasers boring through the void of space to reach him. "Waste my time?"

"That wasn't my commission," said Sester.

Tennyson's eyes narrowed at the evasion. "You play games."

This was an inevitable concurrency of events he had been looking forward to. Allowing the barest of smiles to curve his lips, Sester said, "Is that an observation or an invitation?"

Tennyson laughed, a sharp, cynical sound. "I will make it clear to you now, Sester. I do not enjoy people attempting to toy with me. This is your only warning."

"Of course." Sester inclined his head briefly, keeping his eyes on the Fleet-Commander. "You want to know if I have the ability to turn Adrian Stannis to your will."

"To the will of the Empire." The words were hard and critical.

"Of course." The next words were quick, as if he were trying to catch Andrew off-guard. "A Strategus game then?"

Tennyson's eyes narrowed. It was a serious mistake to ignore his warnings. The psychostrategist should know this. "You want to challenge me to a game of Strategus?"

Andrew Tennyson was a grand-master at Strategus, a prestigious game that separated the exceptional from the merely gifted. You could say the Fleet-Commander was the grand-master of current generations. Anyone who challenged him was either extremely good or a fool. He knew Sester was not a ranked player.

"It is a serious offer, Fleet-Commander. What better way to gain the measure of a man than on the battlefield?"

"You will lose."

Sester smiled. "Shall we play?"

The Fleet-Commander's fingers moved across his control panel. A large, holographic Strategus field opened up virtually between them, it's battle fleets bristling with firepower. "Shall we play with full-real-time settings or in chess-mode?"

"Full-real-time, by all means." A mischievous smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"I do not take prisoners."

"Only hostages?"

Tennyson smiled slightly, a flicker in his dead eyes, like the spark of a flame. This was his game, his second home. "You were given an opportunity to surrender beforehand."

"Fleet-Commander, I would hardly be a match for Stannis if I gave up that easily."

"White or Black?" The flag ships of each fleet rotated, circling each other in the centre of the field.

"You're the White Originator," said Sester with a respectful bow, referring to the alias Tennyson used to enter his first Inter-Planetary Strategus Tournament at the age of nine,and won. Sester knew Tennyson had only lost once in his Strategus career, and that loss was dubious.

"You seem to know a lot about me," said Tennyson, his voice controlled, not giving away anything. He made a first, testing move. A scout ship scooted forward quickly.

"Half the game is in knowing your opponent," Sester said pleasantly, the friendly manner a wall that hid everything underneath. He pressed a key and made an equally innocuous move with his own scout ship.

"I know nothing about you." Tennyson moved a pursuit ship to a flanking position.

"It has never been a difficulty for you, Fleet-Commander." Sester followed suit.

"I get the impression it will be one now."

"Occupational hazard." It was a subtle answer to an unasked question.

The two men fell silent as they spoke with their battle fleets. Sester didn't play like someone who was inexperienced, the opposite in fact.

Tennyson studied his opponent as much as he applied his mind to the game. Normally he thought hundreds of moves ahead of any opponent, calculating all the possible strategies for his rival to take and blocking each one while putting himself in a position for the quickest and most decisive win.

Sester was a changeling. The man had no pattern of strategies, at least none Tennyson could discern, which was the same as saying there was none. But that was impossible.

After several dozen moves...

He's made a mistake. It was so unexpected, so clear that Tennyson had to calculate it twice. He'd never had to do that before.

Defeat was certain. All it needed was 102 fleet movements and his flagship will be trapped by my Ifrits.

He was about to make the first move that would spell the end for his opponent when he looked up at Sester. The man quickly looked away, he had been watching him intently. It happened so fast, Tennyson wasn't sure if he imagined it. The Fleet-Commander hesitated. He had the distinct impression Sester wanted him to make this move, the mistake was not a mistake.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he recalculated all the movement vectors and strategies. He couldn't see how he could lose, but why did he have the impression the winning move was a trap? The mistake is bait. He wants me to pursue this strategy. He is attempting to manipulate me.

Bait is not bait if it isn't taken. Tennyson moved his flag ship, destroying his own chance at using this strategy. It also meant he would have to abandon his current strategy but there were many ways to win.

Sester paused, just a split second, before making his next move.

A dozen moves later, the same thing happened and again Tennyson had the same impression. This time, there was no hesitation as he destroyed his own chances at following a winning strategy. He was not about to let the psychostrategist manipulate him into playing his game.

When it happened a third time, he leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers together and stared at Sester speculatively. "You are not going to waste my time with Adrian Stannis."

The two men locked eyes, two warriors in the midst of battle pondering their next moves. Sester nodded and smiled in acknowledgement. "Against a player of your calibre, it was almost impossible for me to win, unless I changed the nature of the game."

"It has been a long time since anyone has been able to manipulate me in a game, even briefly. It was very well done."

"If we played any longer, you would have won of course."

Tennyson said with slow deliberation, "Almost impossible?"

Sester chuckled.

"Very well, you can continue with Stannis. Don't disappoint me."

"I never do."

**********

The lab was a happier, more efficiently run place now that Adrian was supervising. He separated everyone into teams, each working on a different aspect of the Project. Meetings were short, functional and highly productive, which was much appreciated.

It was starting to feel like the old days, but Adrian was under no illusions. The psychostrategist and the other experts scrutinized his every move. Sester seemed to anticipate everything he did. This was the third time Sester left him alone to manage the Project without his overseeing presence.

Could he sabotage the Project again? The possibilities were endless but he could not risk acting now. He had to build the man's trust, while Sester was trying to build his.

Sester could be doing something as pedestrian as giving him enough rope to see if he would hang himself, but Adrian doubted it. It had to be something else. He doubted if the man would leave him here without some kind of control in place.

In some ways, the two of them were alike. Like him, Adrian doubted if Sester left much to chance. Calculated risks, yes. The luck of the draw was for those who did not have the brains to calculate the certainties.

When this kind of man was confident, it meant he had a reason to be confident. He had no fears about leaving him alone in the lab.

For now, Adrian would do his work and be cooperative.

The new accelerator unit was four times the size of the test model and sat on the ground. It would be infinitely more powerful than the first version.

Ture, the newly minted lead for the Computer Sim team, said, "It's hard to believe this can produce a strong enough signal for the full-scale device." He ran his hand along edge of the clear case as Adrian, sitting on a stool and leaning over the accelerator, reached behind him and picked up a long double-pronged metallic rod from the workbench.

"The difficulty isn't the strength of the signal," said Adrian absently as he reached inside the accelerator and held the harmonics rod to a set of controlling crystals. His thumb flipped a switch to the side of the rod and his hand shook as power hummed through it.

"It isn't?" Ture peered in, ever curious.

"No." With the rod activated, his voice shivered, as if cold touched him, not the invisible waves of sound.

"Then what is?" asked Ture.

"Yes, why don't you tell him what it is," a scorning voice made them turn to see the Tech Commander, two cups of coffee in hand, coming towards them.

Kegan had been subdued since being cut down to size by Sester. A glance from the psychostrategist could make him stutter. He dared not show his anger or temper while Sester was in the room.

"Coffee, there." Adrian pointed to a clear spot on the workbench and turned back to his work.

Kegan snarled at the dismissive attitude and put the steaming cup down, deliberately spilling some of it on a tray of blank data crystals. "Professor Stannis," it sounded as if he doubted the validity of the title, "…loves to show off his encyclopaedic knowledge on a wide range of topics."

"Your menial task is finished. Wait somewhere else."

The Tech Commander loomed over Adrian's sitting form. "Don't you want to test the coffee? I know you have such high standards, being a Firster. I wouldn't want to make a mistake. Unless you're afraid, of course…" The insult hung in the air, a rank smell that polluted the atmosphere of the room.

Adrian's brow knitted in suspicion, knowing he was up to something but unable to discern what it was. Kegan was challenging him as a man.

He switched the harmonics rod off and placed it on the workbench. Steam rose invitingly from the mug and the smell of slightly burnt coffee, just the way he liked it, beckoned his senses. He looked at the mug sitting in a splash of dark liquid and the one in Kegan's hand. Suspicion tickled the back of his mind. "I will take this one." He pointed to the one in Kegan's hand, still untouched.

Kegan clutched it protectively against his chest and pointed to the one on the table. "That one's yours."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "There must be a difference between the two."

"Of course not," Kegan said quickly. Too quickly.

"You're a fool, Kegan and blindingly obvious."

The Tech Commander snarled, "Do you know what I realized, Stannis? I can do anything I want to you as long as I don't interfere with the Project, and there's nothing you can do about it. And, I'm no longer responsible so I don't care anymore. I can make your life as miserable as I want. I have you to thank for that." The snarl turned to a sneer. "Unless you want to run to the psychostrategist and tell him what I'm doing."

Kegan waved the grey mug tantalizingly in front of Adrian's face. "You have nothing unless the psychostrategist gives it to you." His taunting voice grated on everyone's ears. "Why don't you run to him? Tell him how mean I am?"

Adrian pressed down his rising anger. He hated this man, not because he was a toad but because he was right. His throat was tight, his eyes hard.

Ture's hands clenched against the sides of the accelerator casing. He was about to say something when Boudreaux's seductive voice said coldly, "Leave Adrian alone, Kegan, before he has you demoted to washing coffee mugs instead of getting them." Adrian's back stiffened as he felt her coming up behind him. "Of course, as you pointed out so aptly," she said sweetly. "He'll have to ask the psychostrategist first."

This was met with a bewildered glare from Kegan and a tensed jaw from Adrian. Adrian hated dealing with people. His only defence was a scathing remark but with Boudreaux close, her voice purring in his ear, her presence warm at his back, his mind found it hard to concentrate.

There was a snort of derision from Kegan. "Hiding behind a woman, Stannis? What happened to your vaunted pride?"

"Adrian doesn't need pride, only his mind," said Boudreaux; there was a slightly mocking tone in her voice.

His jaw tightened further as he bit back a remark. He refused to be baited and controlled by these two. They may be right, but he wasn't entirely helpless. Adrian picked up the coffee mug from the workbench, looking at it without expression, "It appears Sester was wrong, you have no exceptional skills." He handed it to Kegan. "This is unacceptable."

Kegan growled, "You can't expect me to get another one."

"That is exactly what I expect." He shoved it against Kegan's chest. "You had one task, Kegan and you can't even do that. You will find my PA and ask him to teach you how to make an acceptable cup of coffee, to my satisfaction."

"I don't have to listen to you. You don't have any power."

"You're wrong. I have authority to supervise the proper functioning of this lab. Your function is to get me coffee. Within that sphere, I have full power. Infractions will be met with the proper procedures."

Kegan's eyes bulged. "I'm Tech Commander. You do not have the authority to send me to Security." The other man glared at him defiantly.

"Do not test me, Kegan," warned Adrian, the steel of his voice like a blade poised in threat.

The hatred in Kegan's eyes burned but there was uncertainty. He'd never been sent to Security before and he was certain he never wanted to be. He grabbed the mug from Adrian's hand. "Don't think you've won, Stannis. This isn't over." He stalked out.

"That was very nicely done," said Boudreaux, her fingers lightly tracing along his spine, making him stiffen.

Adrian's jaw clenched and he turned slowly towards her. He could feel his weakness rising but he refused to give in without a fight. He might not be good with people, might be hopeless in social interaction but he had his own strengths.

Focus on the job, the logic. Think. Cold rational logic. A Wave Dynamics specialist. A specialized brain for the Project. Think. Useful. Cold. Rational. Functional. Objective. Emotionless.

He paused, allowing the words to wash over his consciousness, filling him. His cold, emotionless voice said, "I have an additional task for you."

There was a teasing yet predatory glint in her eyes. "Yes?"

"You will generate the harmonics model."

"That's Ture's job." Her eyes flashed angrily at being assigned such a tedious chore.

"He's busy."

**********

In the Security Monitoring Booth, Sester leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 23

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 21:04:27 GMT

Category: Angst, Drama.
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: Argus and Brave-Heart return. Avon faces an important decision.

Note: Added a bit at the end for jaxomsride ;)

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Three

Next Chapter

Argus looked over his shoulder. Brave-Heart's limp was becoming more pronounced and his tongue lolled out as he panted, painfully wheezing with each breath. Blood matted in dark sticky patches and deep gashes scored his flank. The creature's eyes winced with each movement but there was also stubborn strength that refused to give up.

* He's like me, * thought Argus.

* He is like us, * sighed the Wolf.

* Sorry, I was just thinking to myself. * There was a scratch of boot on metal floor up ahead. He slowed, gesturing urgently with his hand, and sending his mental voice to the injured wolf. * Brave-Heart. *

* I smell them. * The creature's nose twitched with excitement and his pain-filled eyes were bright. * We will fight. *

The Wolf harrumphed as Argus kept his head turned away and suppressed a smile, saying, * Avon would say he's exactly like us. *

In his mind, the Wolf blew out a loud exhale in response.

A door swished opened, there was a light scuff of boots and the door closed. It was quiet again except for the flutter of air through a loose vent. * It's clear. * Which was just as well, he didn't want the unenviable task of explaining to the wolf it was too injured to fight.

* I'm not that bad, am I? * Argus asked the Wolf, wondering if Bright-Eyes would sigh and roll her eyes the way Reya did. Of course, Reya had him restrained to the bed when he wouldn't listen. What did wolves do?

They continued on, their ears sharp and Wolf had stayed conspicuously silent. Was this a 'no comment'?

Argus asked, * We're not, are we? *

* Do you often talk to yourself? * Brave-Heart's voice was just like Wolf's. For a moment, Argus wasn't sure to whom the voice belonged.

* It would take too long to explain, * Argus told him, hoping the wolf wouldn't think he was relying on a crazy person. Although these days, with the discovery of the Wolf in his head, he often felt like one.

* We may talk together if you wish, * said Brave-Heart.

Argus groaned. The wolf must think he was lonely. * We’re here. * And not a minute too soon as he rapped on the door with the pre-arranged sequence. Brave-Heart lifted his head higher and his ears became less droopy.

The door slid open, a black nose appeared, then a muzzle and beautiful amber eyes as bright as a shimmering moon. The two wolves stared at each other through the open doorway. They touched noses and rubbed their muzzles together.

Argus said, * We’d better move this inside. *

* We should. * said Brave-Heart.

* Oh! * The she-wolf registered alarm and circled her mate as he entered and she saw his injuries. * You’re hurt! *

* It’s not too bad, * said Brave-Heart.

* But you’re hurt! * She fussed and began licking his wounds while he gave the wolfish equivalent of a sigh. He nuzzled her neck affectionately. * It looks worse than it is. *

The quick look she flashed him said otherwise.

Cally approached with her medical pouch. “Would you allow me to examine your wounds? I am a healer. *

Argus said, * You can trust Cally. She is a member of my pack. *

The she-wolf dipped her head, * We would be very grateful. *

* We would? * asked Brave-Heart, looking warily at Cally.

* Yes, dearest. She is clever with her hands and can heal your wounds. * She nudged him gently on the side and he winced. * You need help. Please let Cally help you. *

With a huff of resignation, the wolf let Cally approach, eyeing the medical scanner with suspicion but not shying away.

Satisfied he was leaving the wolf in capable hands, and not wanting to intrude on their reunion, Argus checked on the others.

It was strange having so many identical faces that looked just like him. Trickles of uneasiness dripped down his spine as they all stopped what they were doing and followed him with their eyes, looking menacing in their black-shelled mutoid uniforms.

"I see they're ready." He stood beside Avon.

"They're clothed," Avon said without expression.

"Avon, we're not using them like machines," Argus said firmly, hearing the unspoken words.

"You've made that quite clear," he said stiffly.

"Sorry. I just feel…"

"You have a propensity for misplaced guilt."

"It's not that."

"No?" Avon's brows rose in doubtful query.

"It's…responsibility. I feel responsible for them." These clones were him. It was a chance to have a different life and he wanted to give it to them.

"You cannot be responsible for everyone."

Argus sighed heavily. "That's easy for you to say." He turned to look at him. Avon's profile was impassive, as always, and even though he could no longer see the depth in the other man's eyes, Argus knew deep thoughts seethed underneath. "What would you do with them? Assuming you could do anything."

"You already know."

Argus wondered what it would have been like if they had never been separated. "I know what you told me."

"Then it's a redundant question."

Sester, still leaning against the wall behind Avon, was listening intently to this conversation as he continued observing the interaction between the clones and the crew. They all seemed to love the young Argus's. Like the soldiers, the clones were polite and respectful, and they had great curiosity about their new surroundings. There was an ingenuousness to them that Argus still possessed, though his was tinged with with sadness and pain.

"It's not," said Argus.

"Then your definition of 'redundant' must be different than mine." The sarcasm was light but unmistakable.

Argus wished there were eyes he could look into. Avon hadn't said much about his disability, which was not surprising, but it had to be bothering him.

He wasn't sure why he was pushing Avon on this issue. If he insisted, he knew Avon would relent. But it felt as if they'd reached a threshold in their relationship and the ghosts of their pasts needed them to do this.

Argus said, "Avon. I want you to decide what to do with the clones. The pods are still here and you can program them the way you think they should be."

"You're trying to manipulate me." Avon's eyes were sightless slits of suspicion and the accusation hung in the air like an executioner's blade poised to fall.

The air was so electric with tension that everyone turned towards them. It was a duel and the hour had struck.

"No." Argus shook his head out of habit even though Avon couldn't see him. "This is a chance to do things your way, Avon. I can't be objective in this. I need you to make the right choice. For both of us. I won't stop you. No one will try to pressure or influence you in any way." He turned to look at everyone in the room, making sure they all understood. "You can make the rational choice and I will support whatever decision you make. No questions asked."

Jenna came up to them. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Argus turned hard eyes towards her. "It's not your decision."

"I'm not going to do it. I don't care what the two of you decide." The look on her face spoke volumes. He was crazy to leave this kind of decision to Avon.

Argus grimaced, he should have expected there would be opposition, but he promised there would be no pressure.

"Step away, Jenna." Argus said in a low, unyielding voice. "We don't need you. I will do whatever Avon needs."

"I think you're mad." The retort was angry and directed at both of them.

I can't let you spoil this. He would have to make it up to her later. The steel in his voice could not be moved. "Now, Jenna. Keep watch at the door."

She glared at him, not liking this one bit, but she took a step back. "Fine." The tone definitely wasn't. She walked away, moving stiffly, anger in each step.

"Why?" asked Avon, his voice cold.

"We're partners, Avon."

The clones snapped to attention and their eyes trained on him. "What are your orders, sir?"

"What is this?" Argus asked, mystified.

"I programmed a secondary trigger signal. It required your voice." There was still no expression on Avon's face, but he was turned towards Argus now.

"You did this, for me?"

"I promised we would find a way…" The next word seemed hard as tension played across his face like shadows that feared the light. Without the heat of the moment, in a cold, rational world, and without the face of someone in pain before him, this was much harder. "…Jack."

Jenna's lips pursed as she witnessed the two men interacting. The others might think this wonderful but she didn't like it one bit. Once again, Avon came across as less than nasty. "While this may be wonderfully melodramatic for some people...shouldn't we be doing something more important, like getting out of this base before we're all discovered?"

Argus looked down, as if he were caught doing something embarrassing, and cleared his throat. "Jenna's right. Let's get moving. Back to the shuttle."

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Three

Next Chapter

From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 25

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 22:04:08 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Drama

Description: Motivations, machinations and...coffee.

Note: Thanks to darkstarzn for co-writing the first scene between the Fleet-Commanders, Andrew Tennyson and Gwen van Reutensberg.

Andrew Tennyson sat almost rigidly in his chair. He straightened up papers hastily stacked and pushed them to one side. His collar felt tight, choking him, and his uniform chafed in all the wrong places.

Fleet-Commander Gwen van Reutensberg had requested a private meeting. The woman was cold as ice and was one of the few people who dared to speak up against him in the Council.

The intercom on his desk buzzed. “Fleet-Commander van Reutensberg is here to see you, sir,” his secretary said. Andrew's back stiffened.

“Let her in.”

As elderly as she looked, Gwen still had a fearsome stride and a manner that could drop the temperature in the room just by entering it. Her gaze was silent, penetrating and usually uncomfortable for any unfortunate recipients of her attention. Wrinkles of age lined her hard face, her silvery-white hair cut to military-standard length. Her ranking strip had been replaced with long horizontal gold strip with a silver fist underneath at the bottom left, the letters ‘2^nd’ affixed to the bottom right - the emblem of a Fleet-Commander.

“Good afternoon, Fleet-Commander van Reutensberg,” Andrew said impassively.

“Good afternoon, Fleet-Commander Tennyson," said Gwen, her manner stiff.

They were both rigidly formal, as befit two people who were not friends, and only colleagues by unwilling circumstance.

“Take a seat,” he said, motioning with his hand. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

Gwen sat down, her back straight, taking her time in responding. With a single glance, this woman could send chills down the spines of even the most battle-hardened veteran. Her steely-blue eyes cast doubts on whether a soul actually lived behind them.

“Why did you hire a Psychostrategist?” The temperature instantly dropped from cool to ice cold menace.

Andrew hardened his face. So it came to this.

“That is none of your concern, van Reutensberg.” Andrew locked his fingers in a steeple, leaning his elbows on the desk. Gwen had been especially persistent about the Neutron Wave Project. She had a special interest in it; it was originally her Project, a loud failure of one.

“You are blindly spending Empire resources on unnecessary commodities, Tennyson,” she retorted, the anger evident in her voice. "Given the amount already lost when Stannis betrayed…"

Andrew could almost hear the word she wanted to say before she corrected it.

"…the Empire."

She hated Adrian Stannis for embarrassing her and if it hadn't been for Andrew's intervention, the man would have been executed. And, if the Project had succeeded, she might have been First Seat rather than him. Instead, the Fleet-Council voted to hand the responsibility of the Project to their most high-ranking member, at a vote of 4-1.

It was a fact he was acutely aware of as she sat across from him.

“The Neutron Wave Project is within my purview now, van Reutensberg. Your involvement is not required.”

The criticism hung in the air like a blade about to fall. The two locked eyes in a fierce battle of the titans; two great powers each with an intent purpose – one a cold and efficient machine, the other an emotionless and determined demon.

“I am getting involved in the interests of the Empire, Fleet-Commander,” Gwen said slowly. “Or do you need to be reminded of your allegiances?”

"You had better not be questioning my allegiance to the Empire, van Reutensberg." The threat was clear. Cross this line…if you dare.

The silence was deafening as Gwen stared lasers at him. They both knew she wasn't prepared to yet.

Gwen’s response was measured but not without malice. “I think it a waste of resources to use such underhanded tactics. The man is a traitor, a disgusting blight in the Empire. Break his mind and throw him back into basic fleet service. Even that would be granting the filth more honour than necessary."

“We require his mind, Gwen,” Andrew said, his voice firm. “I told you that the last time you wanted to have him killed. This man is one of the greatest geniuses in the physical sciences the Empire has ever known. We cannot afford to destroy his mind. He is the only person alive who is capable of rebuilding the project.”

“Then break his will. He has a consort, am I correct?” a lop-sided smile fluttered across her face. “Break her and we will have his absolute obedience.”

Andrew placed his hands on the table slowly. He could imagine what she must be thinking, if Stannis had that weakness the last time, Gwen would never have failed.

“Fleet-Commander van Reutensberg, I am ordering you to cease your persistence on the matter,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “We cannot risk Lieutenant Stannis sabotaging the project a second time!”

Gwen stared impassively at the man. All emotion she had been expressing seemed non-existent anymore.

Andrew continued. “The Psychostrategist is there to carefully manipulate and extend a controlling arm around him. Once we have found out what Stannis’ motives are we can concentrate on eliminating that motive.”

Gwen stood up, moving towards the door. “You are too human for your own good, Fleet-Commander. The Empire needs soldiers, not politicians.” She nodded in his direction. “Good day.” The finality of the words fell like a challenge.

Andrew waited until the door slid shut before letting his shoulders slump. That woman had the ability to bring the worst out of him.

He pulled up old logs from the Sedener, looking over all of Stannis' activities - looking for something he may have missed. He knew it was unnecessary, but he sent the logs to Sester anyway. The Psychostrategist needed to finish his job quickly before Gwen forcibly intervened.

Andrew sighed, walking over to the water cooler. His nerves were taking a beating. First the recent Andromedan invasion and now this. Anita was the only person who still kept him human - and it seemed Gwen was determined to strip away that last shred of his humanity.

If Fleet-Commander van Reutensberg got involved again, Stannis would be handed over to Security Section and there would no longer be clever games to gain his allegiance, only brutal ones to ensure his cooperation and make him work to Gwen's satisfaction.

That was the difference between them. Andrew respected Stannis's ability but he still saw him as a human being. Gwen respected Adrian's mind and viewed him as a tool to be used for the Empire. At least, Andrew thought wryly, she had respected his mind until he sabotaged the Project. Now, Adrian wasn't just a tool, he was an object for her wrath.

He rubbed the back of his neck, kneading the stiff muscles. If the psychostrategist wasn't able to turn Stannis to the Empire, Andrew would have no choice but to hand him over to Gwen. He wouldn't like it, but the Empire was more important than a single man.

**********

The psychostrategist pushed away the swing arm of the monitor and leaned back in the chair, his elbows resting on the arms. His guest cabin was well-appointed and the luxuries surrounded its occupant with comforting civility. He particularly like the black leather-look chair, its form supporting technology pressing comfortably along his back.

The logs from the Sedener presented no surprises. They only confirmed what he already knew about Adrian Stannis. The man's motivations were fairly obvious to someone with his skills, especially if you studied the people around him.

It was going to be a challenge though. Adrian Stannis was highly intelligent, but at the same time surprisingly ignorant in some areas, a dangerous combination. What he didn't know about people, he made up for in superb reasoning ability and leaps in logic. The biggest mistake would be to play within his strengths. The man had to be kept off-balance, always guessing, and his own mind used to defeat him.

There was one added wrinkle that would make it even more of a contest, the Tellaran, Kali Tranton. She had an instinctive understanding about people and she could see through him with her psi abilities if he allowed her to. But as she had discovered, he was far too controlled and his mind too disciplined and strong for her to pierce through his many masks.

Sester smiled. It was going to be enjoyable.

**********

Adrian could feel Kegan's eyes boring into the back of his head. There was no concern though; the detestable man couldn't do anything to him, not with the psychostrategist keeping a close eye on his movements.

The equations for the new power distribution curves were proving to be more complex than he had first anticipated. It was taking up most of his time.

With the decrease in stress and his time no longer taken up by Kegan's daily tirades, Adrian was starting to enjoy his time in the lab. It was a Project that stretched his mental capacity to its limits, which was something rare and to be savoured.

Of course, the work had never been a problem, only the results.

It helped that Sester approved his revised schedule for the next Phase, ambitious enough to satisfy the Fleet Council, but more realistic. Adrian suspected it was Sester who convinced Tennyson. The psychostrategist was annoyingly self-assured to the point of arrogance, just as he was as Bryce pointed out to Adrian's annoyance. It made Sester a very dangerous man.

Kegan hovered anxiously nearby, pacing and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

"Sir," Senior Computer Technician Ture approached Adrian with a data pad in hand, looking very much like a supplicant. To Adrian's consternation, the man was still in awe of him. "I've finished the programming for the new simulation but I'm not sure about the final vectors. Can you take a look at it, sir?" He held out the pad.

Adrian took it and glanced over the new routines. His eyebrows rose on the last one. He tapped the keypad, opening up the routine to show the coding underneath.

Ture was bursting with barely suppressed excitement, the enthusiasm transparent on his eager face. He had been surprised the first time Adrian looked at code. Normally, people in Adrian's position no longer dealt with the mechanics of the job. Some were pure managers who had the merest of understandings of the technology they supervise. Not Adrian. It had raised the Lieutenant from the level of idol to near godlike status in Ture's estimation. Much to Adrian's irritation.

"You took a different approach from the one outlined in the specs," said Adrian's unemotional voice. He continued examining the code, looking at each line and twist in logic.

Ture took a quick nervous breath. "Y-yes. If you take a look at paragraph T-1332-4…"

Adrian turned the datapad around to face him; it was what he had been studying with great interest. "You mean this one?"

"Oh," Ture said with surprise. "You found it already."

There was an intense look on Adrian's face, but not an unfriendly one. "It's an efficient piece of logic. A creative approach."

From Adrian, it was high praise. Ture's beaming face could have lit up the entire ship.

"Now on that note…" They all turned to see that the psychostrategist leaning lazily against the edge of the workbench, his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled pleasantly. "If I could have a word with you in my office, Lieutenant. And," the smile turned slightly predatory, "you might as well join us, Tech Commander. I wouldn't want you to feel left out."

He headed for the side office without looking back to see if they were coming. Kegan and Adrian glared at each other for a moment before they followed.

**********

Adrian and Kegan stood at attention in front of Sester's desk, an arms-length gap between them. Sester was secretly amused. The psychostrategist wasn't military but it never occurred to either one of these men that they shouldn't be extending this gesture of respect towards him.

"There will be a change in assignments. The Lieutenant will assume the supervisory role over the technical side of this project," said Sester.

Kegan's eyes bulged. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You can watch," said Sester affably, as if he were doing the man a favour. Which, in Sester's opinion he was. There were far worse things he could be doing to Kegan but for now the man still had his uses.

Kegan's voice rose in volume and his face flushed pink. "You promised I could stay as Tech Commander and manage the technical side of the project!"

"And I've kept my word." Sester's smile twisted, his right lip rising, becoming a smirk. "Lieutenant, did I specify that it would be indefinitely?"

Adrian said impassively, "No."

Sester's fingers tapped on the clear desk surface. "Would you expect me to allow an unqualified person to manage this project?"

There was a slight pause as Adrian stared at him. "That would depend on your objective."

This was greeted with a pleased smile. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Adrian grimaced inside. This man always gave him the impression that everything he said was expected.

The psychostrategist turned his attention to Kegan. He voice was cold and dismissive. "Listen carefully, Kegan. I have given you one week. Other than for a natural ability to be incompetent, you show no aptitude for your position. You may keep your title, but only because I suspect the Lieutenant would refuse it." He inclined his head in Adrian's direction and grinned when Adrian did not react.

Kegan looked ready to strangle Sester, but he didn't dare. His face had turned from pink to the red of anger. "And what am I suppose to do?"

Sester's head tilted as if in contemplation. "There is one task you have shown an exceptional talent for."

Despite his wariness, Adrian watched the psychostrategist with fascination. He had no doubts Sester's next words would cut Kegan down even further.

Kegan asked with hopeful eagerness, "Yes?"

"You can go and get coffee."

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 22:04:48 GMT

Thank you, jaxomsride for two wonderful Christmas fic presents! Avon, Cally, Amanda and Sarek work so well together. And a bonus Avon/Cally is even better :D

Thank you! Thank you! You've made a good day even better.

Merry Christmas!

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 17:13:25 GMT

To everyone on my F-List...a winter wonderland scene.

Merry Christmas and Season's Greetings!

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 22

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 10:19:53 GMT

Category: Action,Angst, Drama, Humour.
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: The clones and the wolf.

Note: Added some bits to flesh out Vila's POV regarding the clones. Marked in blue.
Note 2: Added a little bit to clarify something about Avon's attitude in this scene. Marked in green.

To all the wonderfully supportive, creative, patient, friendly, funny, helpful, knowledgeable, understanding and sharp-eyed people who've been reading these stories, I wish you a...

Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays Everyone!

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Two

Next Chapter

Faster. Argus urged the two black-clad mutoids. He was tempted to knock their heads together and be done with it, but they were getting close at least. They stopped before large double-doors with a wolf's head emblem that split as it opened.

Finally.

* Are you ready, Wolf? *

* One is always ready. *

A snarl twisted Argus's lips as his fingers stroked the straight edge of the pistol. * Then it's time. We will make them pay for what they did to us. *

Wolf bared his teeth and a low battle growl rumbled deep in his chest.

Checking that the corridor was empty, he strode up to the door.

One. He took a deep breath, the oxygen flooding his lungs and his hand lightly gripping the pistol.

Two. He released the breath slowly and raised the gun, his mind crystal clear and body ready.

Three! He slapped the door control -- the wolf's head seemed to wink at him as it parted and let him in -- and sprang into action.

A step in…and two shots rang out! The two mutoids he was following earlier crumpled to the ground.

He rotated and spotted two more mutoids who had been leaning on a long railing looking down. With inhuman speed they drew their weapons just as Argus fired. Two more shots. Two clean kills. The black-figures fell, their guns clattering to the ground.

The smell of wolf and blood choked Argus's throat and nostrils. There was a sharp yelp of pain and a growl of anger that rumbled the walls. Argus leaned over the railing and looked down into the dim, cavernous room below.

Brave-Heart! The harried creature scrabbled across the blood-soaked metallic floor as two mutoids shouted taunts at it. They struck out with long sticks, the ends rippling with deadly orange energy. The wolf sidestepped, its flanks heaving and one of its hind legs dragging uselessly behind it. His body was scored with deep cuts, its fur matted with blood, and his ears drooped but there was still fierce anger in its eyes.

Argus/Wolf howled with anger as he leapt over the railing, his gun blazing, cutting down the two startled mutoids as they looked up. The last thing they saw was the blurred image that, in the dim lighting, looked like a nightmarish creature, half-man, and half-wolf.

Wolf bent over the bodies of the mutoids with fire in his eyes, wanting to rip their throats out.

* Wolf, they're dead! We must see to Brave-Heart. *

Wolf snarled and sneezed, annoyed yet realizing he was right. Brave-Heart was regarding him warily, his fangs still bared, and a low menacing growl rumbling deep in its chest.

"Brave-Heart."

The wounded wolf gave a half-growl, half-bark of query at the use of its name.

* I know you can speak into my mind. *

Suspicion clouded the wolf's eyes.

* Your mate is here. She is looking for you. Bright-Eyes. *

The wolf circled him warily, limping. * How do you know my mate? *

Warm recognition burned inside Argus, it felt as if he had found a long lost brother. "Brave-Heart, do you remember me?"

The wolf backed up. * The voices. * It shook its head, as if it were trying to shake something off. * You sound like the voices. But different. *

It must be the connection to the clones, thought Argus. He wondered. * Can you hear me? *

Brave-Heart cocked his head in interest. * You speak inside my head. *

Argus froze in astonishment. It had been a crazy chance, but there was still a connection between them. Maybe something they put in his head or something on a genetic level. * It's Jack…the first one. *

The wolf gave a short growl. It had no idea what Argus was talking about.

The memory blocks. The wolf must have them too. The memory of their past. The painful, anguished past. He was the only one who remembered it.

He directed his thoughts to the Wolf in his head. * Brave-Heart doesn't know. Maybe it's better this way, Wolf. It's early in the conditioning if they only took him recently. He never has to know the other things they did to us. *

* Agreed, * said the Wolf.

Argus switched to verbal communication with Brave-Heart. "Ignore what I said before. I was confused."

* One sounds confused. *

For a moment, Argus wasn't sure who spoke to him. The voices sounded the same in his head. He wasn't about to ask. "The people in this lab…"

Brave-Heart gave an angry growl.

"Yes, they're bad people. There are children here. One's like me but much younger. The bad people are trying to twist their minds using yours."

* Why would they do this? *

* I'm not sure, but I am trying to stop them. *

The wolf nodded gravely. * That is a good thing. I will help. *

* But you're… *

* Yes? * Brave-Heart asked, its eyes strong and resolute.

Stubborn. Proud. Brave. His heart went deep. Argus could see it clearly in the wolf's eyes. It was why he was called Brave-Heart.

It was not a weakness.

Argus bowed. "Thank you."

* An Alpha does not bow, * sniffed Brave-Heart.

Argus smiled. "Let's find your mate."

* There is one thing you must do first. * Brave-Heart looked up. High above them was a large silver sphere rotating clockwise.

**********

The clones stood in two perfect lines, their young bodies clad only in a pair of briefs and glistening from the light green fluid of the Transforming Pods.

The door started to open. Jenna brought her pistol up, and sighed when Reya, Cally and Vila entered, large, bulging bags slung over their shoulders.

"Oh! It really is him…but younger." Vila stood, his mouth agape. "This is creepy! Look at them all."

Reya and Cally came over, dropping their bags on the ground.

"They're…just like him." Reya said with wonder.

"Younger versions," said Avon, standing up from the computer terminal.

"Jack?" asked Vila, coming right up to one, close enough to see every ridge of defined muscle. The clones had not moved. Each one was stared straight ahead, eyes dead. It made him ill seeing them like this. They were just children; no one should do this to children, or anyone.

Vila still didn't remember the Academy, only what the others told him, but the thought of Argus as a child being placed in one of these pods...made Vila want to cry for him. Jack didn't have anyone to rescue him, he had to face the Federation alone. As Vila looked at these children, their minds so innocent, only filled with what someone else gave them, he was determined the save them.

"Yes."

Cally touched Avon's arm. "This is their army?"

"They're trying to create more like Argus," said Reya, her anger growing.

"Better than him," said Sester, coming up to stand beside her.

“What do you mean better?” she asked brusquely, not liking what had been done.

Vila was studying the clones up close, going down the lines, trying to provoke a reaction, hoping to see something alive in their eyes. He said, “There’s something strange about them.”

“What's strange?” asked Avon, annoyed he couldn’t see the differences for himself.

"It's their eyes."

Reya looked closely at the one on the end. “They look the same. They’re just like his.” Her voice became a tad softer. She had strange feelings when looking at the young clones.

“You have to catch them in a certain light,” said Vila.

“Vila’s right,” said Sester, “They are different. It’s their wolf DNA.”

“Did you just say wolf DNA?” Vila asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Yes. These clones can see in the dark, just like a wolf. They’re also faster and stronger than a normal human, even more than a mutoid.”

Vila automatically thought, Werewolf! Some of his favourite holovids as a child were ones with fantastical half-human creatures like vampires and werewolves. He would imagine himself as one, something scary, with superhuman powers to fight other monsters with. "I never thought I’d see a real werewolf.”

“They’re not werewolves,” said Avon as Cally led him forward. He asked, “What percentage of wolf DNA is in their profile?”

“A small percentage. Less than one percent,” said Sester, moving over so that Avon and Cally could stand beside him.

“Psi abilities?” asked Avon.

“Yes, that was the main change. And someone’s idea of a joke...” Sester stepped up to one of the clones and peeled back a corner of its lips.

Vila gasped, “My god. I told you they were werewolves. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?”

“What do you see?” snapped Avon, who was starting to get very irritated with his disability.

“He’s got fangs, I mean not very large ones, but they look pointy.” Vila stared into the eyes of another one. “Why aren’t they moving?” He passed his hand in front of the clone’s eyes but there was no response. He snapped his fingers in its face. There was a blink but no other movement. “Well, it’s not a machine. But why are they just standing there?”

Avon said, “They haven’t received the trigger words.”

“What trigger words?”

Reya turned sharply towards him. “Avon, what are you doing?”

“Servalan must die.”

All of the clones turned towards him, their eyes alive. As one, they asked, “What would you like us to do, sir?”

Avon’s lips widened into a wolfish smile. “The bags contain clothes. You will find the appropriate clothing and put them on. You will follow the directions of the people in this room, except for...Cally point out Sester for them.” She pointed a finger at the amused man. “Are there any questions?”

In unison they answered, “No, sir.”

“Good, follow the instructions.”

In an organized fashion, the clones did as ordered.

“I don’t think I like this,” said Vila.

“When have you liked anything?” asked Avon.

“I do sometimes,” Vila said defensively. “These clones, they’re like mutoids.”

Sester said, “In programming, yes. Their minds have been conditioned to receive orders only from the person who first uses the programmed trigger phrase.”

“Shouldn’t that be Argus?” asked Vila.

Avon hadn't been this bothered by the loss of his sight in a long time. Being away from the environment of the ship, one he was intimately familiar with, made him feel useless and dependent on others. He was in very ill humour. “Would you rather they do nothing until Argus returns? Whenever that is?”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

The clones moved quickly, dumping all the clothes out and sorting the different items and passing them around. They worked silently, quickly pulling on the black-shelled, tight-fitting mutoid uniforms that moulded to their bodies

“They’re adorable,” said Jenna admiring their perfectly proportioned masculine physiques.

“They’re obedient,” said Avon, “which gives them one advantage over the original.”

Bright-Eyes stood up, her eyes alert, ears flicking with excitement.

Avon’s eyes suddenly went wide and his hands went to his head. The pack was talking to each other all at once, excited they had 'found' Brave-Heart again. Avon could hear them as a distracting roar of chattering voices.

“I can hear the wolves,” said Cally. She looked over at Avon with concern, she could feel his mind struggling to maintain control and not be overwhelmed by the voices.

* Avon, I will help you. I will teach you how to push back the voices, * said Cally.

“Argus must have disabled the jamming device,” said Avon, his hand still to his head as Cally helped him to concentrate. “Long-range psi abilities are no longer blocked.”

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-Two

Next Chapter

From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 24

Thu, 24 Dec 2009 17:07:29 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Humour, Drama...and Games.

Description: Surprising developments and Sester continues working his magic.

I would like to wish everyone a...

Merry Christmas/Happy Holiday Season!

Kali's brows rose in query as Adrian stood before her, rubbing his left wrist nervously. His mouth was drying so fast, it would be incapable of speech soon if he didn't say something quickly. The words came out tumbling after each other in what, he hoped, was a reasonably logical manner. It was hard to tell when his brain seemed to be as incapacitated as his tongue. "I would like to spend the day with you." He knew she had the day free.

"What did you say?" Kali leaned towards him, shock on her face and tilting her head as if she was having hearing trouble.

A flutter of panic made Adrian clear his throat. His shoulders and neck were tenser than when he was in the lab while Kegan reamed him out for some imaginary infraction. The words came out stuttered. "I…have today off…and…" Why was this so difficult? "…would like…"

His collar was too tight and he would prefer doing something simpler, like higher mathematics. "…to spend the day with you. I…would understand if you didn't want to. My social skills are…minimal."

"You have today off?" Kali's brow knitted in perplexed amazement. She was delighted but it was the last thing she was expecting.

The lack of an affirmative answer made Adrian turn away, his face blank, his voice emotionless again and no longer uncertain. "I realize you may already have plans. This is short notice and you would most likely prefer more stimulating company."

Kali put her hand on his arm. Her voice was gentle, filled with wonder, "Adrian, there isn't anything else I would rather do than to spend the day with you. I was surprised you were given the day off given the way Kegan feels about you."

"He no longer has authority in the lab."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead as she wondered when the wonders would cease.

Kali's hand was still resting lightly on his arm; he could feel his earlier disability threatening to return. "There is…" His head cocked as he pondered the mysterious stranger who had turned the lab upside down without leaving a name, only an ominous title. "… a new person in charge of the Project."

"Not Boudreaux, I hope."

A wry, lop-sided smile curled Adrian's lips. Kali had told him in vivid detail how she felt about the good Professor. "No. He didn't leave his name."

"That's odd."

"Would you mind if we don't talk about work today?"

"You…" Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Are you feeling alright, Adrian?" She felt his forehead for warning signs of fever.

"Is it so unusual?"

"Adrian, when was the last time you took a day off?"

His brows knitted and wrinkles formed as he thought hard. "I…" There must have been one day. He was almost certain.

"You never took one during your entire tour on the Sedener."

"I must have taken one." The wrinkles deepened as he wracked his memory.

"You can take one now." Kali placed her open palm on his chest and felt the rapid beating of his heart.

"If it has been that long, I may require some instruction."

His intense hazel eyes were earnest and so steady on hers that she paused before responding. "Adrian, did you just make a joke?"

**********

"Where are we going?" asked Adrian as he followed Kali and tried to avoid being run over by busy people rushing through the corridors. Activity level was still high in preparation for the ship's new assignment, but there was still time for rest and relaxation. It felt strange not going to the lab, as if he was out of place, doing something wrong.

"It's a surprise," said Kali. "I'm sure you haven't been to one of these before. At least not recently. Bryce said it's quite an experience. He highly recommends it."

"Bryce?" he asked sceptically.

She grinned. "It won't be that bad. Besides, Bryce said it’s the most sophisticated technology of this kind that he's ever seen."

That raised an eyebrow. "Technology?"

Kali now had visions of Adrian spending the entire holovid taking apart the sensory unit. It didn't matter though, as long as he was happy and she could help take his mind off his troubles.

"Why are we stopping?" he asked with curiosity as they joined the small line in front of the theatre.

"This is the surprise."

He looked up at the glittering banner across the doorway. THEATRE. "I see." His face was unreadable.

"Lieutenant Stannis!"

Adrian winced and sought out the shock of burnt-orange hair advancing towards them.

Bryce had a happy grin on his face. "It's good to see you, Lieutenant. I thought they'd never let you out of that lab, the slave drivers. This is…" He glanced at Kerril, suddenly shy. It felt as if he were introducing her to his parents. Of course, his had died a long time ago. "…a friend of mine, Lieutenant Kerril Sealey. This is my boss, Lieutenant Stannis."

At the expressionless look on Kerril's face, he added hastily, "A very good friend."

Kerril said, "I'm pleased to meet you, sir. Bryce has told me all about you and of course, I've heard about the Neutron Wave Project. Congratulations on your success."

Kali could feel Adrian stiffen at the mention of the Project.

"I would rather not talk about it," his voice was cold.

There was awkward silence as the ice threatened to put a damper on the meeting.

A warm male voice interjected from behind Bryce. "The Lieutenant has been working too hard. He needs to be able to leave work, at work. You understand."

Bryce and Kerril turned to look at the stranger, parting a way for Adrian and Kali to look surprised.

"Hello." Kali smiled as she recognized Sester. "We keep bumping into each other."

"Yes, we do."

Adrian's lips thinned. "You know this man?"

"Yes, he helped me pick out the chess set for your gift. I didn't know anything about them."

Sester said with a friendly incline of his head, “And I know all about them.”

Silence wrapped around them like a thickening fog, but was it the calm of two opponents sizing each other up before a battle? The two men stared at each other while the others looked nervously between them.

Kali asked, “Adrian, do you know Sester?”

“He is the psychostrategist.”

There were collective gasps as they all stared at Sester.

"You lied to me?" Kali asked, her voice rising.

Sester smiled, the resigned expression of a man who faced this reaction all too often. "I indicated I was a strategist."

"Yes, but not what kind."

He inclined his head, "True." His eyes took in all of their expressions and he chuckled. "Reactions like this is why."

"You had no qualms about telling me," said Adrian, his eyes boring into the other man, trying to find the truth past the agreeable face.

"That was business."

"And this isn't?" Adrian's voice dripped cynicism.

* Adrian, be careful of this man. * Kali projected to him. * He has a very controlled mind. Like yours when you are trying to block me, but his control is never released. I was not aware of it before, but I suspect it is only because he did not want me to be aware of it before. *

Adrian gave her an imperceptible nod of his head.

"Not exactly." The corners of Sester's mouth twitched slightly as he regarded the two of them. His eyes reflected the light of the corridor. "I require recreation occasionally too."

A frown darkened Adrian's face. This man seemed to know he did not have the habit of taking a day off. It was Sester who gave him this one.

Bryce took a worried step back and pulled Kerril with him, "I heard psychostrategists can read minds."

The resigned smile stretched to an amused one as Sester said, "If that were true, then taking one step back would hardly keep you safe from me."

Bryce said with sly humour, "You wouldn't want to tell me how many steps, would you?"

Sester glanced at Adrian before rubbing his hands together with relish and answering, "Well now, that is an interesting question."

"Leave him alone," said Adrian, his voice a void that sucked all potential fun out of this encounter. It was the first volley in a battle that had already begun. "This is between you and me. Leave the others out of it."

The friendly, casual expression did not disappear from Sester's face but his voice became serious. "Lieutenant, I have no interest in harming you or anyone who is important to you. You have my word."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Given our positions? It would be unrealistic of me to expect you to."

"Then this discussion is at an end." A door closed.

"I'm disappointed, Adrian." Sester shook his head slowly. "I thought you were an objective man. You base your assessments on facts, not rumour or prejudice."

The gauntlet dropped to the ground with a clang. This was the battle.

"Don't try to manipulate me, psychostrategist."

"Would you believe me if I denied it?"

"No."

"Then I won't." A smile played across Sester's face. "It appears that my task will be as difficult as yours."

"At least I will succeed."

There was a pause as Sester allowed Adrian time to process their interaction. "That is all I ask."

Adrian started and his eyes narrowed.

* Adrian, he was after something…and I sense he believes he has achieved it. *

Sester bowed to her. "Yes." He turned to Adrian. "I mean you no harm. I am not like Kegan or Boudreaux. I have no vested interest in seeing you hurt."

"You follow orders."

"I follow a commission. How I carry out that commission is my business and no one else's. Not even Fleet-Commander Tennyson can control that. All he can do is have me removed and I don't think you would want that." A knowing smile crinkled the corner of his eyes, but not his mouth. "Other psychostrategists are exactly as you envisioned."

"A fact?"

He nodded once. "Yes."

"I do not trust easily."

"Thank you."

Thank you? Keeping his face blank, Adrian glanced at Kali for some help to understand this man, but there was only a puzzled expression on her face.

Sester said pleasantly, "But for now, I doubt if you would enjoy the holovid if I were present." He turned to leave.

"Join us," said Adrian.

Everyone stared at him, including Sester, who smiled with appreciation, though it wasn't clear what the appreciation was for. "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"Am I?"

"I think you're trying to keep your enemies close."

"Stay and find out."

It was a game of chess and both players had made their opening moves.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 21

Wed, 23 Dec 2009 18:43:44 GMT

Category: Angst, Drama.
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: Friendship and decisions.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-One

Next Chapter

"You're not typing that in," said Argus, putting his hand over Jenna's.

"Jenna, continue," said Avon.

Jenna lifted her hands from the keyboard. "No. I'm with Argus on this."

"Move over."

Jenna did not budge, but neither did she continue entering the code.

Argus said, "Avon. You can't do this to me. I mean...them."

Avon 'stared' at him, which considering he was blind, made it even more disconcerting. "The clones are dangerous. We need to ensure they can never be used by the Federation."

"I am not letting you program a self-destruct, Avon. I don't care what you say." His jaw was set in his most obstinate mode.

Avon didn't need his eyes to know the look on Argus's face. "That is why we need one."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"They're not really mutoids. You said physically, they're like me."

Sester was only half listening to their argument as his fingers traced the edge of the desk. The other half of his brain was trying to think of a way to follow his master's orders in a different way, one that did not involve killing all the Argus clones.

"They have the same conditioning," said Avon.

"You mean like mine?" His fist tightened and his despondent and anguished voice made Sester look up and say, "Not just yours."

There was a flash of anger in Argus's eyes. "I want to know what you have to do with all this."

"Should I bother denying it? It might be amusing."

Argus half-rose out of his seat. "You mean you did have something to do with it?"

"None at all, but I doubted if you would believe me."

"Can we deal with the problem at hand?" Avon's voice was a bucket of ice-cold water on their antagonism.

"Sorry." Argus sat back down.

Before Avon could demand that Sester tell them what he knew, Sester said, “The clones have your brain and your personality. It's why they had such a high failure rate.” There was an amused smile on his face. “Your stubbornness must have driven them to distraction."

The Argus-Wolf growled.

“In an attempt to counter your apparent...flaws,” this time Sester suppressed a smile, “they used the personality of a wolf to trick your mind into believing it was natural to kill.”

“Why a wolf?” asked Avon, his head was tilted slightly in thought.

“In order to fool his brain into accepting the new pattern, the matching personality had to be similar. They considered many predatory animals, but found a wolf mentality to be the most compatible. Even then, it was not that simple. They needed a creature that had as strong a mind and personality as Jack’s or his mind would never be influenced.”

“They found Brave-Heart,” said Argus. A memory trickled into his conscious mind. Familiar amber eyes. Strong and passionate. Dark grey shaggy fur. The lifted head, proud and confident.

The Wolf in his had been unusually quiet since his mate rejected him. The amber eyes opened in Argus’s head. * That is my name. * There was great sadness and loss.

* Yes. I’m sorry, Wolf. * Argus suddenly wished the Wolf could become a real one rather than being trapped in his head forever.

The Wolf sighed loudly in his head. * One must accept the truth. *

* Even if you don’t want to? *

* What one wishes does not change what is. *

It was hard to hide something when you share the same mind. * I think you’re fooling yourself. *

“Are you speaking to the Wolf?” asked Avon.

“How did you know?”

“The long pause without dialogue was a good clue. And you,” Avon pointed his finger in the direction of Sester’s voice, “were silent.”

Sester chuckled, “You must admit, it is fascinating.”

“Stop treating me like a lab experiment.” There was a snarl on Argus’s face.

Sester said, “They've also adapted the conditioning used for mutoids.”

Avon angled his head slightly towards the direction of the pods. “They believed it would overcome the flaws in his personality.”

“It’s not a flaw,” growled Argus.

“That’s one view,” said Avon.

“You must admit,” Sester glanced slyly at Argus, “it did prevent them from creating a successful...”

“Don’t say it.” The note of warning rang clear as a bell.

Sester smirked, “I was going to say, berserker.”

“True,” said Avon. “As you said, it must have been frustrating.”

“What if we don’t imprint them on anyone?” asked Jenna.

“It wouldn’t work,” said Sester. “Mutoid programming makes it an imperative to serve. If there is no one to serve, they cease to function.”

"You mean they would stand there not doing anything?" asked Argus.

"They would have no reason to."

Argus was outraged. To take human beings and reduce them to the level of inanimate objects was horrifying. His mouth tasted bitter and the acid of anger filled his stomach. In these pods, they had turned him into a tool to be used.

The trickle of memories became a stream of images and feelings as the maze of memory blocks toppled like a house of cards. His head hurt in flashes and his hands pressed against his temple. His legs felt rubbery, no longer able to hold up a weight that had become overwhelming. He sat down heavily, only vaguely aware of concerned faces and the guiding hands of Jenna and the man who was his nemesis.

Trapped in a dark place, unable to pound his anger on the sides because they had bound his hands.

Anger. Helplessness. His face wet because there was no one to hear, because there was no one to care.

Feeling empty and alone. Reaching out with his mind for something he knew was missing and not knowing what it was.

Now he knew what had been taken. "Kerr…don't do it…don't let them do it to me."

Pain. Exhaustion. His own young, screaming voice as his mind was invaded.

The companionship of a presence as angry and defiant as he was and just as afraid.

They had tried to remake him, taking away the parts they did not want and replacing it with something more useful to them, but they had never truly succeeded. The pieces of his character that made him exceptional, were the ones they could not get rid of and the ones they could not control.

The Jack that he had been felt the pain of each killing. It was Jack who could not let go of the faces of the dead, the guilt of all the things he had done and in the end, and it was Jack who had pushed him to escape.

"Kerr…I don't care what you say. I can't let you take away what little they have left. I fought too hard to escape the Federation, but if you do this, then it will be like I never did. I know it doesn't make sense." Argus brushed through the cobwebs of memories that obscured his vision and focused his eyes. He was looking down at his clenched hands resting on his lap. There was a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head and saw Avon beside him. "Kerr?"

"It's alright, Jack." Avon voice was unfamiliarly gentle; it was the one he used with Cally. In the pain and anguish of the man who had been his friend, Avon remembered, not the visual memories of the past, but the deeper ones of a connection that had never been broken. "We will find a way."

Sester knew what he must do; interacting with these two had forced a decision. His master would not approve, but as long as the goals were met, he didn't need to know the details. Not to mention, it would take longer to convince these two of the better course of action, time they couldn't afford.

There was a yelp of pain followed by howls of anguish, magnified by muffled echoes inside prisons of metal.

Argus jumped up, dislodging Avon's hand from his shoulder. "We have to find him!"

"Who?" Avon's calm voice asked.

"The wolf, Brave-Heart. They're hurting him."

There were snarls and more yelps of pain, weakening sounds.

Argus gripped Avon's arm to steady himself as clear memories came on like a light in his head. "They did this to us before, me and the wolf. It means they haven't fully conditioned the clones yet. We have to stop them! Avon, can you break the connection? I'll find the wolf."

"I can try. Jenna…"

"I'm ready, Avon. What do you need?" she asked.

The she-wolf came towards Argus. * We will find my mate. *

* No. I need you to stay and watch the door. Keep Avon and Jenna safe. They will be too busy. *

She growled and shook her head. * I will go with you. *

* I will find Brave-Heart and bring him back to you. You have my word. We must not alert the people on the base or we will never be able to rescue him. It is easier for me to stay hidden than it will be for you. *

His eyes stopped her even more than his words. They were so much like her mate's and he was just as proud and strong. She whined but dipped her head in agreement. * I will keep your pack safe. *

* Thank you. *

Avon heard rushed feet leaving the room. "Jack…"

"He's gone, Avon." Sester watched the door, a smile playing on his lips. "Give him a moment."

Argus rushed back in. "Avon, I need a schematic of the building."

**********

Reya, Vila and Cally stuffed tough-shelled clothing into sacks.

"It's going to be strange having all those clones of Argus running around," said Vila, jamming another pair of pants in to his bag and glancing over at the Commander.

"Yes…" said Reya as she closed up her bag and hefted it over her shoulder. She had avoided thinking about the implications of the Federation creating clones of Argus.

"Do you think they're mutoids?"

Cally was keeping her psi senses sharp to keep track of the minds on the base. Any unusual activity and she would inform the others. She said distractedly, "Avon said they are modified versions."

"Whatever that means," said Vila, as he wrapped his arms around his bag and lifted it up.

Reya checked that the corridor was clear. "Let's go."

**********

Argus gripped the gun tightly as he flattened himself into the shadows. Two mutoids passed close but did not break stride. He waited until they rounded the corner before following them. They were going in the same direction but hopefully not the same place.

More memories filled his mind but they were not as intrusive.

The exultation of man and wolf as they stood over the bodies of their enemies.

The joy of running, testing their body.

The sweet, metallic smell of blood that made him howl.

The encouraging voice that urged him to go on when he lay in his own blood, unable to move.

The roar of the beast inside him when the lights flashed.

* You were there with me all along. *

**********

Sester was thinking quickly. "Avon, speaking of self-destruct."

Avon turned his head abruptly towards him. "There will be no self-destruct programming."

"I wasn't talking about that. I'm his friend too, remember?"

"I wonder if you do," said Avon, his words cutting sharply.

"When I was investigating, I found a way to destroy the base."

Jenna eyed him suspiciously. Her limited experience with this manipulative man did not fill her with confidence. "You've done it already, haven't you? You were going to destroy this base with everyone in it."

"As a matter of fact, I was going to. I know how dangerous these clones are, I've had longer to study their files. The Federation cannot be allowed to use them. But I swear to you, I didn't know whom they were using. The files only contained a number, not a name."

Avon 'stared' at him and his voice was unmoved. "You suspected."

"Yes. That was why I came to investigate."

Jenna's voice was just as hard as Avon's. "Would you have killed the clones if we hadn't arrive?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Sester's tone was suddenly harsh and angry, not like him at all.

The truth was, he didn't know. The friend part of him wanted to believe that he wouldn't have, but he knew the psychostrategist was very capable of it.

Sester never had to kill a friend before. He was secretly glad the others arrived when they did and he did not have to face the test.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty-One

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From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 23

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 17:38:46 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Drama

Description: Sester continues working his magic.

The ship was a hive of activity as everyone ran drills, drills and more drills. It didn't matter what your rank was, if you were part of the crew, were breathing and mobile, you were required to brush off skills and hone them to higher peaks of perfection. The Trykor was a heavy battle cruiser, the elite flagship of a proud battle group and it was time they got back to what they did best. Captain Chell seemed to be everywhere, setting goals and schedules, pushing his crew to do their best and working alongside them.

Kali trained with the field medics, running emergency simulations and learning to treat battle injuries, both ship and ground. Her medical knowledge grew in leaps and bounds. It was exciting and challenging. Every bit of knowledge, every increase in speed and proficiency might mean the difference between life and death later on. They ran drills until they could respond without thinking, until everything became as natural as breathing.

Shouldering a battered field med kit and with every muscle complaining bitterly, Kali dragged tired feet along the crowded corridors, hoping to reach her cabin before she fell over from exhaustion or ran into another officer keen on running more drills. The years on the Sedener had made her soft; it wasn't only her mental exercises that suffered.

One thing Kali appreciated the fact that on this ship, the officers got their hands dirty too and they worked just as hard, if not harder than the rated grades.

Her eyes drooped in weariness, and as invariably happened at such moments, she collided into someone.

"Careful," said a warm silky voice as supportive arms surrounded her.

Kali's eyes blinked and she focussed on the pleasant face in front of her. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention." She straightened herself and took a deep breath as the friendly man let go of her.

"It's alright. You look tired, Kali."

Her eyes widened, only a sliver because she was too tired for anything more, and she said, "It's you. Sester, isn't it?"

The warm, smiling man wore civilian clothing, a dark blue jacket buttoned to the collar and dark grey pants. "Yes."

"What are you doing here?"

"I have some business onboard." There was sincere concern in his eyes as she swayed on tired feet. He stretched out a hand to help but drew it back as if he feared she might misunderstand.

"What did you do again? My mind doesn't seem to be working." She was lucky she remembered his name, or even her own for that matter.

"I'm a strategist."

"Oh." Her mind was blank for a moment. "A military strategist?"

"Of a type," he said with a deprecating smile.

For some reason, his warm personality made her feel better. Underneath it all, Kali was aware of a quick intelligence and a sense of fun, and despite his easy manner, this man was much more complicated than he appeared on the surface. He didn't seem to be acting, but there was definitely more to him than he was revealing.

Sester asked, "Did your friend like the chess set?"

"He loved it. Thank you for the suggestion."

"You're welcome."

"I would like you to meet Adrian, but I'm afraid he spends most of his time working."

"I look forward to a chess match with him."

"Somehow, I think he would enjoy the challenge."

Sester smiled.

**********

Ture entered the lab, balancing two piping mugs of hot coffee in one hand, a tray of data crystals in another and with a binder tucked under one arm. The rich, slightly burnt aroma was irresistible as eager heads followed his approach, wondering who the lucky recipient of the second cup would be.

He placed it casually next to Adrian. "Thought you could use a cup." The other items were unceremoniously dumped on the workbench as Adrian stared at the mug. He seemed unsure what to do with it when an arm reached between and snagged the mug.

"Why thank you, Computer Technician Ture. How very thoughtful of you." Kegan smiled sweetly as he took a sip of the coffee. "Ahhh, delicious."

Ture gave him a hostile glare. "That was for…"

"It was for the Lieutenant before your rudeness got in the way." The new voice was two parts acid and one part ice and came from the doorway. Everyone whirled to face the stranger leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, the picture of effortless civility. No one could swear to seeing him enter and no one knew how long he'd been there.

Professor Boudreaux froze as she heard the familiar voice.

"Who the hell are you?" Kegan demanded, charging towards him, cup still in hand, and coffee spilling over the sides.

Adrian continued working, his head bent over a plasma board, seemingly uninterested in what was about to happen, only the slight angle to his head revealed his interest.

"Someone who likes incompetence even less than the Lieutenant." Sester's voice was cultured and smooth. He pushed away from the wall and came towards the fuming Kegan with a pleasant smile on his face.

Working at a side table, Professor Boudreaux watched the developing dynamics with the curiosity of a cat.

"You've just made a serious mistake, whoever you are!" Kegan came right up to him, standing toe-to-toe, hands on his hips and a sneer on his face. A poster boy for wanna-be bullies everywhere.

"I think you'll find," Sester said with reasonable friendliness, "that you're the one who has made the mistake."

Kegan growled, "You don't know who you're dealing with."

"Alan Kegan, Tech Commander by political appointment. Assigned to this project for your nuisance value to Adrian Stannis. Born to a Firster family but graded…"

"Shut up!" Kegan's face was turning an interesting, and very unbecoming, shade of red.

"Shall I continue?" Sester asked amiably. "I have more."

"You're going to regret this!"

The psychostrategist turned to Adrian. "Is he always this loud or is he hearing impaired?"

Adrian looked up, startled at being addressed. His voice was flat, his meaning only hidden for those who did not have the intelligence to understand subtlety. "Being impaired is a factor."

"But not necessarily hearing impaired?" Sester asked with amusement.

"Not necessarily."

Kegan looked from one to the other in bewilderment. He wasn't sure but he suspected he had just been insulted. Ture turned his head away to hide a smirk, which only made Kegan glare at him. “We’ll see whose laughing after I speak to the Admiral,”

A sad sigh greeted this announcement. “I was hoping you would last a few more minutes, but perhaps it’s for the best.”

“What are you talking about?” demanded Kegan.

The voice took on the edge of a sharp, jagged blade. “If you speak to the Admiral, you will no longer be Tech Commander.”

“How dare you threaten me?” Kegan was apoplexic.

This elicited the lifting of an eyebrow and a mild, "Oh dear." Sester addressed Adrian conversationally. "What did it sound like to you?”

“A statement of fact.”

"That's what I thought." In the blinking of an eye, he became cold as ice and his voice was slow and deliberate. Each word had the effect of a slap to the face. “Listen carefully, Kegan. I am here to take custody of Lt. Stannis. If you interfere with me, you will no longer be Tech Commander. Cooperate and you can keep your title and manage the technical side of the Project. Cross me, and it will be the last free act you will perform. Now go and obtain confirmation from the Admiral. Your presence is no longer required today.” Kegan closed a mouth that had dropped open in shock and he swallowed hard.

"Now, Kegan."

The Tech Commander looked around in panic. He was no longer the highest power in this room. It belonged to this blond stranger with the elegant manner and deceptively warm smile, who had just plunged a dozen knives into the dark space where his heart should have been. "But you…said I will no longer be Tech Commander if I went to the Admiral." His voice had raised a full octave by the end.

Sester's head shook with disapproval. "Abject grovelling is very unappealing." Again, he addressed Adrian. "What do you think, Lieutenant?"

By now, Adrian was extremely confused by this stranger, not just because of what was being done to Kegan but also because of the easy rapport this man had established with him. He was certain he did not know this man. Suspicion gathered like dark clouds, but in the meantime, he would enjoy Kegan's discomfort. Anything to bring down the man who had made his life a misery. For once, he felt in control again in their relationship. "It is," a faint wolfish grin cracked his expressionless face, "satisfying."

The warm smile returned. "You may be right." The smile changed to a smirk as he turned his attention to the man he had cut down to his proper size. His voice was a gun pointed to Kegan's head. "You will tell the Admiral that I am allowing you to keep your title. Now, get out."

The Tech Commander backed away, looking around for support no one was about to give him. He turned and ran out of the room.

"My apologies for the disruption, everyone. You can continue your work. Professor Boudreaux," he gave her a polite bow of the head, "If you could supervise while Lt. Stannis and I have a conversation?"

Boudreaux was a snake contemplating a delicious meal as her eyes passed over the two men who fascinated her. "Of course."

Sester chuckled softly and said in a low, barely audible voice, "Your colours are showing again, Professor."

She glared at him.

**********

Adrian followed Sester into a side office adjoining the lab.

Before the door could slide closed behind them he asked, "Who are you?"

Sester sat down behind the desk and leaned back, a relaxed and pleasant smile on his face. "I'm a psychostrategist."

Adrian became very still. Like everyone else, he knew the reputation of the psychostrategists. He kept his voice flat and tightly controlled. "You're here for me?"

"You know I am." The sharp grey eyes studied Adrian carefully, measuring every flicker of movement, minute change in colour and angle, filtering each word, noting the alterations in tone and inflection, and a myriad of other factors that were the stock and trade for a psychostrategist; and the instinctual responses that weren't visible to the naked eye. All in a split second.

"Do you think I will cooperate without being forced?"

"No." The voice was seductive, but not in the way he had been with Boudreaux. There was a genuine quality that drew the attention, if not the trust. Yet.

Adrian shuddered as the words became warm fingers travelling up his spine. This man was so dangerous that he didn't bother hiding who he was.

They were evenly matched in intelligence, but Adrian knew he would have to be on his guard at all times. This man manipulated people in the way he manipulated the energies that could destroy worlds.

Sester watched him with amusement, noting each thought as it passed across the seemingly impassive face. "But you let me worry about that. For now, you will take up Kegan's role while he watches."

"Are we done here?"

"Do not try to test me, Adrian. You will not like what you find."

"Another fact?"

Sester smiled. "A friendly warning."

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 08:49:21 GMT

A card and a birthday fic for you.

Happy Birthday, jaxomsride!

Avon and Anna the Kitten: Training: Part 2

“Avon, can your cat tell the time?” Vila asked as he directed a hand torch inside the open teleport console. He eyed little Anna sitting on the panel just above them. She was staring intently at the numbers of the chronometer display, her ears flicking with excitement as each minute number changed.

Avon lay back on the ground, his hands and his head stuck inside the interior of the console. His voice was muffled. “Of course not. What a ridiculous notion.”

Keeping one eye on the glowing red numbers, the little kitten meticulously licked her paw. The minutes changed. 58. She gave a wide yawn. 59. The other paw needed a little attention, but not too long.

16:00:00. Anna gave a satisfied little meow, got up and arched her back. When she was ready, she leapt off the bench with an energetic push of her hind legs, landing silently on padded feet.

Vila watched her with fascination. Of course, he was extremely bored and anything was a welcome distraction. Little Anna poked her head around the corner, her ears pointed and alert, her eyes bright with anticipation. She padded silently over to Avon and jumped up on his lap.

Avon jerked in surprise, followed by a bumping sound and a grunt of pain. “Anna.” He shuffled on his elbows, extricating himself from the panel and stared at her with displeasure as he rubbed his forehead. “You should not interrupt me when I’m working.”

Little Anna looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

Avon sighed; even he wasn’t immune to the potent power of those soft eyes when she looked at him with such trust and love. She butted his hand with her head and looked up expectantly.

“You’re impatient today.” He glanced at his black-banded wrist chronometer. “Ah. I lost track of time.” Anna gave a little meow of agreement.

“Next time a simple meow will suffice.”

Anna meowed louder and rubbed her head against his hand. "I still have work to do, but as it was my error, we will make an exception." The Kitten purred in appreciation as he began stroking her soft velvety fur.

“Vila, your services are not required for the next half hour.”

There was a plaintive little meow and the big soft eyes looked up at him. "Make that one hour."

Vila switched off the hand torch. “Time for a break, is it? It’s about time.”

Rumbling purrs emanated from the contented kitten and her eyes were half-lidded in pleasure. Avon found it a soothing sound, calming nerves stretched too tight and giving him a sense of peace. This happened with Cally too. Avon wondered…

“What are you doing?” asked Vila.

Avon blinked and stared at him. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked with a tone of challenge. Of course Vila's curiosity, not to mention a chance to rib the coldly rational Alpha, overrode any warnings or common sense.

“Well, I know what you’re doing. But I never thought you'd do something so…sentimental." He was trying not to smirk but it only made the corner of his lips quiver. "I mean, petting a kitten isn’t ‘functionally relevant’, is it?”

Both Avon and the Kitten glared at him. The tip of Anna's tail flicked at Vila in a feline version of a displeased, if not an impolite, gesture. Apparently, she didn't like the idea that petting her wasn't considered, ‘functionally relevant.’ At least, that was what it seemed to say to Vila, though he could have been imagining it.

“Cats require regular physical contact with their owners. It aids in the bonding process,” Avon said factually.

"Do you know what I think?"

"Sometimes I wonder why you bother asking."

Vila grinned. "Well, I think Anna can tell the time."

“You’re delusional. It is simply a matter of training. Animals have a well-developed internal clock. If you establish a regular routine, they will follow it."

Anna meowed in complaint and butted her head against Avon's still hand. He looked down and began stroking her again. "I was preoccupied." She gave a long meow as if to say that he was forgiven as long as he didn't stop again.

Vila slipped out as man and beast bonded. He looked back at the contented pair and wondered if Avon had trained Anna or - he smirked - if it was the other way around. He was about to leave when he turned back to look at them again. Avon was talking to the Kitten, telling her about the improvements he was making to the teleport as he scratched under her chin. Anna purred with pleasure and encouragement, and she regarded him with fascination, giving the occasional meow as if she understood what he was saying and was very interested. Which of course, Vila couldn't see how she could be...

He smiled and left.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 20

Sat, 19 Dec 2009 09:26:10 GMT

Category: Drama, Angst.
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: Sester's mission. Everyone has a mission.

Note: Sester's comment (marked in blue) is thanks to jaxomsride :)

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty

Next Chapter

His master sent him to kill Jack?

Sester looked across the sea of metal cylinders, grateful more of them weren't full, but there were enough. Even one was more than enough to set his head spinning.

He closed his eyes to the face sleeping peacefully, the young Jack unaware of the nasty universe he lived in and the things he would be required to do.

If he didn't see the face, then it would be easier. He could kill them with a clearer conscience.

When did I ever care about a conscience? The Guild is my conscience.

They aren't Jack. They only share the same genetic imprint. The memories are different; the mind programmed by someone else. They are like the mutoids, but are allowed the capacity to feel. Controlled emotions trigger specific physical responses.

However, his mind refused to cooperate. They were Jack. These were the twisted images of what the real Jack had not wanted to be. He closed the lid of the cylinder, so much like a casket of the Old Calendar.

His master had warned him before he came on this mission. Venner's voice rang in his ears.

"Remember your first loyalties, Charles. I knew we could not prevent you from reforming old bonds once you rediscovered your friends. I wanted to spare you the pain."

So his master had known about his friends and what had been taken from all of them, but he swore the Guild had nothing to do with it. They had found out too late and Sester was the only one they had been able to rescue.

But rescued for what?

His master's voice was authoritative, demanding his obedience.

"You know what you must do and you know why. This army of mutoids must not be allowed to live. The knowledge and technology must be destroyed or they would be unstoppable."

Sester touched his belt. Most of the charges had already been laid. A simple code entered on his wrist unit and the research base would become rubble. The computers, the wolves and the genetic imprint of Argus. Slowly, like someone in a trance, he removed his belt and slipped out the flat explosives moulded into the lining.

**********

Argus led the way along the corridors. The she-wolf was very good at smelling danger approaching while he was able to dispatch anyone they couldn't hide from. "We're almost there."

**********

Reya watched by the door as Cally accessed information on the blood serum.

Vila poured a rack of the serum vials into his kit bag. "Don't we need one of those delivery devices?"

Cally looked up at him and said firmly, "Avon is not a mutoid."

"Avon might find it more efficient. He wouldn't have to bother with eating or drinking. Just pop one of those vials in and…"

"Vila…"

The edge of warning in her voice made him grin facetiously. "Yeah, you wouldn't be able to have romantic dinners. Though the idea of Avon having a romantic anything boggles the mind."

Reya whispered from the doorway, "Vila, if you don't stop, I won't guarantee you'll leave this room in one piece."

Cally was glaring at him.

"Sorry." He closed up his bag. "I get nervous sometimes. Talking helps."

"We noticed. Talk about something else." She went back to downloading information onto a data crystal.

"What do you think Avon found on the computers?"

Reya said, "It may be something about the wolves."

"That's true. They were trying to capture the wolves. I mean, with their telepathy, they must be valuable. Cally," his eyes widened in alarm, "you have psi abilities."

"Yes, I do," she said distractedly as she found some very interesting information about the blood serum. It provided all the required nutrients and various chemicals she wasn’t familiar with. This would require further study before they gave it to Avon.

Vila picked up the satchel and slung it across his shoulder. "Then we have to get you out of here before they find out."

"I agree," said Reya. "Cally, do you have the information you need?"

"This is very interesting," said Cally, not taking her eyes off the scrolling screen.

"Download the rest. You can read it on the ship."

**********

By the time Sester placed the last charge, his hands were shaking and he was finding it hard to breathe. One image filled his mind, the sight of Jack lying in one of these metal coffins. His vivid imagination and precise mind knew exactly how Jack must have felt those years ago.

This was the reason why psychostrategists saw everyone else as puppets. You cannot feel pain if you didn't see them as human. Your heart would not break if you were asked to destroy their lives.

Sester's face was pale, his palms clammy. He leaned over the side of one of the units and nausea overtook him.

**********

Argus charged into the room Transforming Pods, intent on dragging the truth out of Sester, willingly or not. What he saw made him hesitate. Sester was wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and his face was deathly pale. There was a momentary look of shock on Sester's face but it passed quickly. “Argus, I’m glad you’re here. I found something. You’re not going to like it.”

Argus looked at him warily but his earlier aggression had dissipated. “What are you doing here?”

“We can discuss your paranoia later. But now,” he depressed the catches on one of the cylinders and the lid swung upwards, “You’re going to want to see this.”

Argus eyed him suspiciously but looked inside as the lid opened. He stepped back in shock. “That’s,” his face became as pale as Sester’s, “me!”

“What’s going on?” asked Avon sharply.

Argus turned to him, his eyes wild, “It’s me, Avon! I’m in one of the Transforming Pods.”

If Avon could have given him a ‘look’, he would have. “Explain.”

“It’s Jack, Avon,” said Sester. “They must have his genetic imprint. I discovered that when I arrived and I’ve been investigating. They’ve been cloning Jack and experimenting on him. Avon, these ones have limited telepathic ability.”

“The wolves,” said Avon.

Sester eyed the she-wolf by Avon’s side. Her amber eyes watched him vigilantly. No doubt she would pounce on him if he made a wrong move. “I see you’ve met their acquaintance.” He bowed to the wolf. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The she-wolf dipped her head. * You are polite, for a human. *

He smiled. “Yes, the wolves. They’ve been bringing them in for Jack and for the telepathy.”

“What do you mean bringing them in for me?” Argus could not take his eyes off his young self. The sight of the body in the cylinder was triggering more memories, and breaking through mental barriers. His head hurt.

“They’re doing to them what they did to you. It seems even their cloned versions of you have certain weaknesses they were never able to remove. If they tried to, it reduced your usefulness in other areas.”

Argus leaned back against the side of another closed cylinder. “You mean they’ve been joining them to the wolves?”

“The conditioning was not entirely successful with you,” said Avon as he directed the she-wolf to one of the pods.

“Yes, that’s why there are only two dozen filled pods at the moment.” He became still for a moment as a thought came to him then he started laughing.

Argus said irritably, “I don’t think this is funny.”

“Nor do I,” said Avon.

“Of course, it is. It’s the ultimate irony. Instead of creating an army of obedient super soldiers, they’ve only succeeded in breeding a pack of rebels. It is highly amusing.”

“He has a point.” Argus went over to the opened pod and looked into it again, his hand touching the sides. “This is me. I would want to fight.”

“What happened to free will?” asked Avon sardonically.

“We’ll take them with us.”

“That doesn’t sound like free will.”

“Well, it would be if we could figure out how to give it to them. You were right, if they’re mutoids, they’re little more than biological machines. But if there is a single chance they can be saved...”

“We need to download as much information as possible.” Avon slid his mini-computer out of his case. * Bright-Eyes, I need a computer terminal. * She moved him in the direction of one. “Sester I will need your eyes.”

Argus said, “For now, program them to follow the two of us. We’re not going to use them but it’s the only way to get them out of this base.”

“You might need something else.” Sester looked far too amused. “They may be a younger version of you but I doubt walking around nude is a habit they’ve picked up yet.”

Previous Chapter

Chapter Twenty

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From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 22

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 21:30:52 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Action, Drama

Description: Adrian and Kali discuss the Bastion battle. Sester, the enigma.

Note: Thanks to darkstarzn for the idea for the Empire motto.

Adrian and Kali watched the broadcast of the battle from the privacy of their cabin. As Fleet-Commander Negisaki's words ended, Adrian leaned back in his chair, his arms folded together and his chin sunk to his chest in silent contemplation.

"What do you think?" asked Kali, her heart still pumping with excitement.

He said impassively, "They will use this to pressure me."

“I don’t understand why they are so set on building the alliance when they have such formidable weapons already. The Bastion and the gravity well weapon seem more than enough to handle any alien threat. Why didn’t they use it before?”

Adrian gave a soft grunt. “Because it is an ill-conceived anachronism that became obsolete before it was completed. All of its main systems are out of date. At best, it's a slow-moving base. A very slow moving one. It is a grossly inefficient use of resources and technology. It has no stealth capability and its outdated hyper-drive technology would announce its presence long before it arrived. The ship itself was little more than a political showpiece to feed someone's enormous ego. A hammer to the head would have been less subtle.”

“But...,” Kali was puzzled, “the alien fleet wasn’t able to detect it.”

“It means the hyper-drive engines were shut off. Without main drive power, it appears like a large asteroid to any long-range scanners.”

“But that weapon, it took out the entire invasion fleet.”

This elicited an even more cynical response. “Yes, it was very effective. But it is so cost-prohibitive that only three were ever made.”

She regarded him curiously. This man was a surprising fountain of knowledge at times. “Adrian, how do you know this? It doesn’t seem like common knowledge.”

One corner of Adrian’s lips curled in distaste at some of the knowledge he had the misfortune to know. “How I know doesn’t matter. The most important point is there are only two such weapons left. This time, the Bastion was in the right place at the right time. As the Fleet-Commander indicated, they were lucky. I doubt if they will be that lucky again now that our enemy knows we have this weapon. If I were them, I would send scouts ahead to track the movements of the Bastion before attacking again.”

The vid-news was broadcasting interviews from participants of the battle; dishevelled men and women hastily straightening crumpled uniforms as broadcast personnel cornered them, intent on finding the next memorable sound bite.

“Then the alliance is important.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she thought about the implications. Her people, the Tellarans, broke their centuries-old neutrality to help in the fight against the aliens. She had been a staunch supporter of the move, but now, after years serving in the ranks of the Empire military, her eyes were opened to the truth. Justice and compassion often gave way to the more important goals of security and order.

One Order, One Security, One Empire; that was the Empire motto. She saw the ideals very differently now. The alien threat was real and the urgency was unmistakable, but it muddled what it meant to be human. She sighed and her eyes refocused on the face in front of her. Adrian was watching her, his dark hazel eyes alive with interest and his arms no longer crossed in front.

She said, "Sorry. I was thinking about something."

"I could see that."

"Do you think things will ever change in the Empire?" A wistfully sigh escaped her lips. There were good men and women in the Empire who believed in what they were doing, who heroically gave up their lives to save humanity. And there were people like the Admiral and his First Officer who still tried to be human.

"You are asking a cynic, Kali."

"Would you mind if I still have some hope?"

The golden flecks had returned to Kali's eyes, mesmerizing Adrian. Normally, he didn't notice them. Only in their cabin, when her eyes were soft and he felt relaxed enough to have a conversation, did he see the brilliant shine that warmed the coldness. He reached out and touched her cheek just under the eye. "You have the hope I am not capable of."

"I will have it for both of us."

**********

Captain Chell sat in his command chair on the bridge reviewing weekly status reports when Admiral Verel entered. "Admiral on the bridge," announced the duty officer, a fresh faced young ensign who snapped to attention, making the others on the deck hold back amused smiles as they straightened any slumped postures.

Verel nodded his acknowledgement. "Carry on." He caught Chell's eyes. "Captain, would you join me?"

**********

Chell sank into the brown leather-look chair, expertly avoiding the annoying squeak it sometimes made.

"Is he still on the ship?" asked Verel the moment his backside hit his own swivelled chair.

"Sir?"

"Sester. Where is he?" There had been no sign of the psychostrategist since the first day when he reported in. At least, Verel hadn't seen him and off-handed queries had produced blank looks from some of the other officers.

"That's easy, sir. He's in the Observation Booth." This was the monitor hub of the entire ship. All cameras and security scanners fed into two main rooms, one for normal ship ops and one for sensitive areas.

Verel ran his fingers through his grizzled grey hair. "Why do I never learn to ask you first?" He knew why. His First Officer was busy enough with the daily routine of running the ship without minor requests from the Admiral.

"You're stubborn, sir." Chell grinned good-naturedly. It was a familiar, almost comforting routine.

"Where else has he been?"

"The Observation Booth."

A red message icon blinked at the Admiral from the corner of his monitor screen. He glanced at it with irritation. "I don't mean just today."

"The answer would still be the same, sir."

"You mean he's been in there every day?"

"He's requested exclusive use of several of the monitors and there's a security screen to block his activities from the rest of the observers."

Verel's eyes narrowed. "Secretive."

"Yes, sir."

"Even worse than Security Section. He hasn't approached Stannis yet?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

Verel couldn't ignore the insistent message icon any longer. Damned pushy things. He exhaled forcefully, cursed all puppet-masters for giving him headaches, and stabbed at the icon.

Communiqué from Fleet-Command HQ. He entered his ident code and the security password. A terse message, coordinates, details to follow. Tennyson. The man doesn't waste any words.

“We’re rejoining the battle group in Sector 14. A major rebel offensive is expected," said Verel.

Chell eyebrows rose slightly and he sat up, his mind already making lists of what needed to be done. The orders would have been sent to his ident as well. “About time we rejoined the group. Diplomacy is fine but…”

"We're old soldiers."

"And growing older by the minute. I'll prepare the crew. They've had enough rest."

**********

Professor Tamara Boudreaux sat at a corner table in the officer's bar, nursing a tall cool drink, equal parts blue mint and something orange that burned all the way down. The room was quiet, peaceful, and had a luxurious lack of urgency, just perfect for someone used to privilege. The dimmed lights reflected off shiny, reflective surfaces.

At this late hour of the evening, it was usually bustling with activity and officers relaxing. It was barely a third full tonight. Everyone was in preparation mode after the new orders came through. She sighed and resigned herself to a solitary evening.

A man entered through double doors that slid closed silently behind him. His sharp grey eyes scanned the room in a split second as he sauntered over to the bar. Tamara paused as she brought her glass to her lips.

Someone interesting, fun and with an edge of danger, just what the doctor ordered for a dreary evening. She wet her lips in anticipation and took a deep drink that slid down with fingers of warmth.

The man was simply dressed in a dark blue collarless jacket and dark grey trousers. It was a subdued expression of elegance and wealth. He ordered a drink, a clear martini without the frills and with a polite nod in her direction, sat down not far away.

"I haven't seen you here before," Boudreaux remarked casually.

Sester smiled and turned the radiant sun of his personality towards her. If her heart were one degree warmer, she would have melted easily under that glow but instead it filled her with apprehension. This was the kind of man who was used to getting what he wanted without seeming to work for it.

"You haven't." His voice was smooth as silk sliding across the most sensitive parts of her body and his fingers played lightly around the wide lip of the glass. The sensuality of it sent shivers down Boudreaux's spine. Her eyes narrowed. She was not used to being manipulated and she recognized a master.

"You're very full of yourself, aren't you?" A little rudeness in unexpected company was useful.

He chuckled, the sound was like music and his eyes fixed hers with sudden intensity. "Professor Boudreaux, if you play with me it will be fun, but I doubt if you will like the results." His body remained relaxed and his expression was one of amusement. The fingers continued their seductive tracing of the glass.

"Do you have to do that?" she asked with irritation.

The fingers stopped and his head tilted slightly as he regarded her. "Does it bother you?"

Boudreaux's quick mind measured his response and his manner. Her voice became seductive and flattering, a queen going into battle. "Why do I have the feeling you knew it would?"

"Are you always this paranoid with strangers?" His eyes twinkled and he never lost the light, agreeable air.

"Only manipulative ones." Boudreaux put her glass down, her insides warming with the heat of battle. This man did not have the delicious vulnerability of Adrian. He was a different sort of morsel and just as intelligent, and there was a knife edge that fascinated her.

"Your colours are showing," he said casually as he brought the martini up and rolled the thin stem between his fingers. Boudreaux's face was distorted on the clear surface.

The Professor stiffened as she suppressed a shudder of discomfort and excitement. It felt as if he had just stripped her bare and those warm, sensuous fingers that so expertly ringed the glass, were poised to touch her. Her spinning head was giving her visions of throwing him over the table and… She shook her head and answered his challenge. "And so are yours."

"Ah," his ingenuous smile was both infectious and dangerous, just the kind that drew her like a moth to a flame. "But I wanted you to see mine."

I am now casted

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 20:47:15 GMT

I was at the fracture clinic this morning. It wasn't too bad, only 2 1/2 hours. I now have a new best friend for the next 4 weeks, a blue fibreglass cast.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 19

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 19:40:46 GMT

Category: Angst, angst and...more angst.
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: Of grief, memories, mutoids and a new danger.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Nineteen

Next Chapter

Baxter approached the circle of wolves holding vigil over Good-Nose’s body just outside the shuttle. His young face was troubled and he walked slowly. Black-Tail stood up and moved to block his way.

“I mean no offense.” Baxter held his empty hands high to show he was no threat. “I just...I wanted to show my respect. The wolf...” His throat choked. “The one who died, he saved my life. My gun malfunctioned and...”

His eyes were moist as he remembered the brave wolf leaping at the two mutoids about to shoot him. Instead, they turned and shot him at point blank range. The wolf had jerked in mid-air, like a puppet whose strings had been yanked, and he fell heavily to the ground and moved no more.

Baxter fought back tears as he remembered how still the wolf had been as it lay on the ground, its body covered in blood. He had screamed then, and his vision was red as he grabbed a rifle from a dead mutoid and shot the two who had killed the wolf. All he wanted to do was kill all the mutoids.

“I don’t even know his name,” he said, his heart full of misery, grief and guilt.

Black-Tail regarded him with grave eyes. * You wish to know his name? *

“I need to know it.”

The wolf dipped his head as if he understood. * His name was Good-Nose. He was one of the best of us. A brave wolf who gave honour to his pack. He could track the wind with his nose. *

“Would you mind...if I joined you for awhile?” His eyes rested on the blood-matted fur of Good-Nose.

* We would be honoured. I am Black-Tail. * He nodded formally.

The young soldier returned the nod solemnly. “My name is Baxter.”

The wolf stepped to the side to let him pass.

**********

As the memory of the boy in his mind screamed, Argus started and shuddered. He shook his head to clear the vision even as it began to fade, leaving only a few fragmented images.

I have to focus. He put his ear to the door and listened. No sounds outside, only the voices of his technical team on the inside.

“Are you alright?” Reya’s concerned voice nearly made him jump as she came up behind him.

How did she always do that?

“I’m fine. Some bad memories.”

She nodded and listened at the door too. “You were captured here.”

“It’s not that. I was here a long time ago.” The memories were too fresh, too painful. “I...can’t talk about it now. After the mission.”

The soldier in Reya understood about priorities. Sometimes she wished she didn’t. "Alright. “ There was something she wanted to bring up but she knew it would not make him happy. "Someone’s missing.”

Argus looked back at Avon, Vila and Jenna who were still working on the computer and Bright-Eyes, who was stretched out by Avon’s feet, her ears twitching as she listened for danger. “Who?”

“Sester.”

Argus’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “That’s true...where is he?”

“We might have to look for him after we’re done here.”

He grumbled under his breath, “Do we have to?”

“Argus, that’s not very nice.”

“Neither is he.” At the pointed look in her eyes, he said quickly, “You’re right, we should look for him.”

**********

Argus asked, “Avon, do we have the information? We should get the serum and go. It’s not safe staying here.”

“We have the information.” Avon turned his head towards him. “But there is something else.”

“Oh?” he came over behind the desk and looked at the monitor. It showed the footage from a security scanner, rows and rows of long cylindrical tubes. “What are we looking at?”

“You’re going to like this,” said Vila, an excited smile on his face.

Jenna nodded. “It’s going to solve all our problems.”

“Send the others to obtain the serum," said Avon.

“It’s that important?” He peered hard at the cylindrical tubes, trying to pierce their mysteries.

“Yes.”

“Alright. The two of you go with Reya to get the blood serum.”

**********

After sending Reya off with Vila and Jenna and directing Bright-Eyes to keep her ears at the door, Argus asked, “What’s going on, Avon?”

Avon tapped on the monitor he couldn’t see. “Do you know what these are?”

“I don’t have time for 20 questions. Why don’t you tell me?”

The shadow of a smile appeared on Avon’s lips. “Alright.” He gestured to the screen. “These are Transforming Pods.”

Argus stared at the cylinders in alarm. “You mean they turn people into mutoids?”

“No. Mutoid modification is a surgical procedure. The physical modifications and the adjustments to the brain are done by surgeons.”

The lights of the cylinders blinked steady rhythms in green and red. Wires snaked from the ends to banks of control panels.

“Then what are these?”

“They are programming chambers.”

At those words, shadows clouded Argus’s vision. A blast of cold air chilled his body as he clung to the last morsels of light before he was plunged into darkness. Voices whispered to him. Louder and louder until he could not ignore them, until they were the only sounds he heard.

The ground seemed to lurch beneath his feet as Argus staggered and he stared in shock at the cylinders; the sensation of being trapped still fresh in his mind. “Oh my god, Avon...” He fell back into a chair. It was hard to breathe.

"What's wrong?" Avon's voice did not change tone but his words chased each other in urgent expression.

“I've been having memories about this place. I…was in one of these machines.” He felt broken, splintered. The man, the Wolf and the child who had died in these pods.

“After they took you at the Academy?”

Argus put his hand to his head, pressing inward, wishing he could drive away the memories. “Yes.”

“It makes sense they would use these. The technology at work is not exclusive to mutoid programming.”

Clenching his fists in anguish, Argus said, “We have to destroy them.”

Avon’s hand came up. “Not yet. We can use them.”

“No one should use these," Argus said angrily.

"Use your military logic. Do not let sentiment cloud your objectivity. We have a unique opportunity here. There are ten thousand pods.”

“That many?” Argus leaned forward. The thought of tens of thousands of mutoids, spreading throughout the galaxy at the orders of the Federation, was a disturbing thought. “They must be building an army.”

“That would be my guess.”

“We can’t let them do that.”

Avon’s lips curled into a wolfish smile. “Not them. Us."

"What do you mean 'us'?"

"We can program a trigger word into their subconscious, wake them up and imprint them onto whomever we want. We would have an instant army for the rebellion.”

The thought of it was tempting. An instant army of mutoids, faster, stronger and programmed to serve the rebellion. No more friends would have to die. No sacrifices of brave souls like Good-Nose. It made sense, but all he could hear was the death-clang of the cylinder lid as it closed over the life of the child he had been. “No, Avon. We can’t do it. We can’t use them like that.”

Avon's lips thinned and he shook his head. “These are mutoids. They're little more than biological machines. Everything that was human about them was removed.”

“They were human.”

“Were. But not anymore.”

“I can’t do it, Avon.”

Avon felt the warm body leaning closer. “Avon, is there a way to reverse the process? Are we sure there is nothing left of the original personality?”

“Not without extensive analysis and experimentation. And access to their database.”

“So you don’t know for certain?”

“The chance is very slim.”

“Avon, they put me in one of those things. They programmed me like a machine.” Anguish thickened his voice. “They took away my choice, my freedom, who I was. I never wanted to kill anyone, Avon. Do you remember? That was why you tried to help me escape.” His head bowed and his eyes closed tightly at the pain of the boy he had been. “Kerr…” The boy had never truly died and now he was being given a chance again.

The voice, so much like Jack but deeper, reawakened memories and feelings that had been taken away from the young Avon; the face of the anguished boy, his knuckles raw and bleeding, punching a training dummy into helpless submission because that was how he felt. Avon remembered being angry for his friend and the depth of his own feelings.

In his memories, Kerr took one of the bruised hands in his and Avon in the present unconsciously reached out towards the anguished voice.

Why aren’t you wearing gloves?

Avon's voice was determined. "We will use the mutoids to destroy those who did this to you."

Argus lifted pained and anguished eyes. "Avon, I can't do this. We can't."

"I can," he said ruthlessly. To him the mutoids were not human. Just as for Vila, they were inhuman monsters that drank blood.

"Avon, if it was me in one of those pods, could you do it?"

The rationality was simple. "You would want to fight against those who imprisoned you."

"Yes…" Argus sighed, realizing it was a bad example. "But that's not the point. It's about…freedom of choice. It's about becoming a slave to someone else. It's about someone deciding they have the right to control your life like a puppet. It doesn't matter who it is or what their reasons are. It's wrong." He shuddered as the memories of the past came back and stayed. "I don't want to do that to anyone else. I couldn't live with myself."

Silence separated them as Argus looked into Avon's dimmed eyes, wishing he could see into his soul. "Avon?"

"You insist on viewing these mutoids as surrogates of your own experience." His cold, rational voice spoke volumes even without the words.

"I know you think it's irrational. You don't see them as people, only instruments to be used."

An instrument to be used. The phrase echoed in Avon's mind. It was what he had been most of his life. In his mind's eye, he saw the face of Jack, imagined him screaming in one of the cylinders as they took his will away. A knot of pain clenched inside him and his breathing quickened. He knew how it felt.

By extension, it meant he knew - even if he didn't want to - how these mutoids would feel if the Federation had not taken away their capacity to be human. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to know if the process can be reversed."

"And if it can't?"

"Let's find out first." His eyes narrowed as he saw a figure in a white Federation lab coat entering the room with the Transforming Pods. Even though the man kept his face angled away from any security cameras, Argus recognized the walk and the easy way the way man carried himself.

"Sester. What's he doing in there?"

**********

Sester walked slowly into the room where an army of cylinders lay neatly lined in rows and sections awaiting his inspection. The crisp white uniform of a Federation sci tech made him virtually invisible in a Research facility.

He stopped at the panels, his hands busy at the controls as if he had a purpose to be there. Information spilled across the screens in quick succession, as he read quickly, not wanting to be here any longer than he had to be.

Thin explosive strips lined his belt. They would destroy a sizeable portion of this base and wipe out the enemies' work in a matter of seconds.

The enemy was building an army of berserkers who were as blindly obedient as mutoids and with the beginnings of telepathic ability that could be used on humans. It was a frightening thought, tens of thousands of these soldiers tearing across the galaxy, destroying all who stood in their way.

If his reading of the files were correct, they were only partially successful. That was why the Transforming Pods were mostly empty. Most had not survived the process and the rest had descended into madness. Only two dozen of the pods were occupied.

Over a year ago, the enemy had found a genetic profile strong enough to accept the modifications. Someone who had come into their hands that they had almost forgotten about.

There was still one flaw. That was the reason for the wolves. Sester had seen the cages and the bodies of numerous wolves sacrificed to scientific research. The enemy believed it was only a matter of time before they solved this last problem and once they did, ten thousand transforming pods were ready to create the ultimate army to do their bidding.

Sester touched one of the active pods. It vibrated beneath his fingers and the hiss of air told him there was life inside. He had a sneaking and uncomfortable feeling about what lay within. Sester knew he should not be here. He was only supposed to place the charges and get out. Every moment he exposed himself, he risked discovery, but he had to find out something.

He steeled himself and depressed the catches. He stepped back as it slowly lifted upwards and rotated, revealing the ultimate soldier inside. His breath caught and his heart sank as he recognized the face. It was a boy, around twelve, his body a work of art in sculpted muscular form. It was Jack.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Nineteen

Next Chapter

From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 21

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 20:12:59 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Action, Drama

Description: Admiral Verel gains another headache, Kali gives something to Adrian, and something shocking happens.

Note: Thanks to darkstarzn for the speech by Fleet-Commander Bernard Negisaki.
Note 2: The shocking events described from an audience perspective here, are written in exciting detail in:

The Confederation Empire: Bastion of the Empire – Part 1
The Confederation Empire: Bastion of the Empire – Part 2

Admiral Verel eyed his visitor warily, not because the man inspired suspicion or was particularly threatening. The opposite in fact. His clothes were richly tailored but simple, a tapered dark blue jacket buttoned to the throat and black pants.

Senior Psychostrategist Charles Sester was an easily likable man with the casual air of someone who didn't take himself too seriously. His grey eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence and amusement and his brownish-blond hair leant friendly warmth to his manner.

Someone pleasant and friendly was the last thing Verel had expected in a puppet-master.

"You're clear what you need to do?" asked Verel over steepled fingers.

"My commission was very clear, Admiral." Sester's voice was rough silk on the ears. He wasn't smooth, he was what smooth would have liked to be if it wanted to be sincere. "You understand that I am to be given every cooperation and authority with Adrian Stannis?"

Verel nodded. "I understand."

"Good."

Despite the man's sociable manner, the Admiral had the uncomfortable feeling that this man had already taken his measure. At least, the psychostrategist couldn't guess that he had been trying to helping Stannis.

"Is there something you wished to say to me?" asked Sester, his head cocked slightly and he regarded the Admiral intently.

Had the psychostrategist guessed somehow? There were rumours they could read minds but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Rest assured, Admiral, what I do has nothing to do with telepathy." He smiled pleasantly. "Though all indications may appear otherwise."

"You like playing games." said the Admiral.

Sester inclined his head in acknowledgement. "That is what I do."

There were many things Verel wanted to say to influence the psychostrategist, but he suspected this might tell the man more about him than Stannis.

"You're right, it would," said Sester.

Verel started at the response to his hidden thoughts. His eyes narrowed. "If you want to convince me you can't read minds, you're not doing a very good job of it."

The psychostrategist sat back relaxed, his sharp grey eyes alive with humour. There was no challenge in his voice, just a mild curiosity. "Is that what you think I'm trying to do?"

"I think you're trying to give me a headache." That was all the Admiral needed. With the stubborn Stannis and the machinations of Kegan and Boudreaux, not to mention Security Section, adding the psychostrategist to the mix seemed like the work of a twisted and sadistic mind.

Sester noted the slight reaction with detached interest, as if he were ticking an item off a checklist. "I imagine the Lieutenant has a similar effect on you, but for entirely different reasons."

"How did you…never mind."

"Don't worry about Adrian Stannis, Admiral. He is no longer your concern." For a fleeting moment, the pleasant, relaxed face hardened around the eyes. "Unless you wish him to be." The friendly manner returned. "But why would you want that?"

It was a friendly warning, depending on how you looked at it.

"Can't think of a reason," said Verel, trying to sound casual. He had the prickly impression of a sharp knife poised at his back. "He's all yours."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Admiral." Sester gave a polite bow but they both knew that it was only a formality extended to Verel's position.

**********

"What's this?" Adrian asked after Kali deposited a wrapped box on his desk.

"It's a gift."

"The shiny green wrapping made that obvious." He stretched long fingers towards the box, hesitating for a moment before he picked it up. "I do not celebrate birthdays."

Kali put her hand on his shoulder and began kneading his tight muscles. It was a ritual Adrian had become used to but only after much coaxing and logical argument on her part. He accepted it as a necessary evil to avoid subjecting himself to the dubious ministrations of the medical unit. "I imagine you have a perfectly rational reason for not observing the date of your birth?" she asked him.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He held the gift in both hands as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

"You surprise me," she said in teasing sarcasm. She placed pressure just below the base of his skull, her lips thinning in displeasure when she felt the hard edges of the device in his head.

"Have I become that predictable?"

"You're logical." She gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"That means yes." Adrian's eyes closed and his dry tone was light as her fingers performed their magic on his stressed body and mind.

Kali smiled as she felt the tension lessen beneath her fingers and the relaxed mood made it easier for him to speak to her. "I'm afraid it does."

"Then perhaps I shall endeavour to engineer a few 'surprises'."

"I look forward to it."

His head turned partially to face her in profile. "It's not my birthday."

"I know."

"I'm not the kind of person people give gifts to."

“Are you trying to discourage me from giving you this one?” Kali noticed Adrian was still holding the gift in both hands. Did he realize this?

“I...” He looked down at the neatly wrapped box, caught between the thought of handing it back to her but unable to and not knowing why. His hands gripped it tightly. “As you went to the effort, it would be impolite to refuse.”

Kali’s hands had paused for a moment as he responded but she continued her massage of his neck and shoulders. The deep and complex emotions emanating from him over a small thing as a gift surprised her. Had no one given him a gift before? It was hard to believe but then, he was hardly a normal person. Her voice was gentle, “Yes, it would be.”

Adrian began removing the green wrapping paper, following the lines she had carefully folded and affixed with a joining tab. No ripping and tearing in haste for him. In a burnished black metal case was a slim grey rectangular unit. On the lid was a holographic impression of an iridescent chess piece rotating, a knight with a stately arched neck alternating black and white. “A chess set.”

“Yes, it plays both standard and three dimensional versions. You can challenge the computer or someone else.”

He brushed the controls on the side of the chess set and depressed one. The unit expanded upwards, checked platforms sliding out, ebony, and ivory-like chess pieces fully formed and ready to play. “It records previous moves and saves the configuration?” His voice was impassive but his fingers touched the pieces eagerly, feeling the cold, smoothly textured figurines.

“Yes it does. Do you like it?”

“It is...a suitable gift.” He pressed another button and the chess set folded on itself and snapped closed. His hand rested on the slim-line case. “Do you play?”

The question surprised her. “I do, but I wouldn't be a challenge for you.”

A smile touched his lips, "I doubt that."

**********

The crew of the Trykor was in shock as they gathered around the nearest viz-screens. Admiral Verel's shocking words were piped to all corners of the ship, his voice calm but with serious gravity. "It is my duty to inform you of a major battle which occurred in Sector 15 just over four hours ago. A fleet of alien ships, possibly the largest since the first invasion wave, entered our system."

On the screens the strange-looking but all too familiar ships of the Andromedan fleet came into view like a deadly swarm, their bulbous hulls and sharp claw-like blades inspiring primal fears. The larger ships had sweeping wings at the top and bottom, like oddly configured vultures.

All breaths drew in and jaws dropped in shock. Everyone looked at each other, some in panic and fear, but mainly in anger as befit an elite crew of a fleet admiral's ship. Fists clenched. They all looked ready to do something.

The screen panned out and at the far left edge, a grey, ungainly mass appeared.

"What is that?" Kerril pointed, asking no one in particular. She and Bryce were watching the footage in full 3-D form during an interrupted viewing of a comedy vid. They leaned forward in their seats, mouths dry with nervous excitement and trepidation.

"Dunno. Asteroid maybe?" said Bryce.

"Where's the fleet?" a lispy-sounding man several rows away asked.

"Probably trying to get there." This was from a red-haired woman sitting next to Bryce.

The lispy man swallowed hard. "They'd better hurry it up. Do you see the size of that fleet?"

"My god, that's a ship!" The red-haired woman's mouth was wide with shock as the large grey mass came closer and details became more distinct.

"But is it theirs or ours?" said Bryce shifting nervously in his seat. He reached to his side and took Kerri's hand in his.

"It's got to be ours, it's coming from a different direction," Kerril said uncertainly.

The lispy man half-rose from his seat and shouted, "That's the Bastion! It's got to be!"

The Bastion was a monster of a ship; the size of a small planet. Within its numerous holds were several battle fleets. In itself, the Bastion did not have much in firepower, some defensive batteries and missile capabilities, but by its sheer size, it was virtually indestructible and served as a moving base for the smaller ships that provided its main offensive capability . Most of them had never seen it before, but everyone in the Empire had heard of it.

Large doors slid open in the Bastion's belly revealing huge docking areas. Rays of light reached out into the darkness and streams of ships came shooting out like missiles from smaller docking structures that snapped into place. There was no question now, they were Empire ships. The crew watched with rapt attention and amazement as they manoeuvred into position, trying to use tactics to defeat the larger alien fleet that outnumbered them 3-1.

"Oh, this isn't good," said Bryce. "They'll get slaughtered."

Kerril squeezed his hand. "I don’t know if I can watch this. It's worse than any battle vid. This is real and we're on the outnumbered side."

"I know." He put his arm around her shoulders, two people needing to feel the warm comfort of another human being. It didn't help that in all the vids they saw, even a vastly outnumbered Empire fleet could survive against all odds and win. This wasn't an entertainment vid with a guaranteed happy ending. His heart pounded in his chest in a deafening beat.

The two battle fleets succeeded in splitting the enemy's forces, drawing them away, thinning their lines, while two more formed a cordon and began hammering them with deadly fire.

"That's smart," said the red-haired woman in admiration. "We might actually stand a chance."

"At least it won't be as much of a slaughter," said a pessimistic, older sounding man from the other side of the room.

In the middle of the battle, a circular structure formed and then a small circle of energy inside.

"Oh go…it's a jump gate!" shouted the lispy man, his voice shrill. The smaller circle pulsed and spit out a large ship bristling with menace.

Everyone in the theatre jumped up in alarm even as smaller Ifrits darted out from the fleet and buzzed towards the jumpgate like little insects weaving between the larger ships.

"I know this…" said Kerril, her eyes bright with hope. "I saw it in…I don't remember which vid…but they're trying for an EMP net to collapse the gate."

"Will they have time?" Bryce asked, his eyes not quite as confident.

Suddenly the jump circle collapsed and dissipated in a shower of energy.

The theatre erupted in cheers and people jumped up and down, relief replacing fear.

An explosion of red filled the theatre with violent light. Everyone gasped with shock as one of the battle fleets virtually disappeared, leaving only the flag ship and a handful out of several dozen. In the blink of an eye, joy had turned to disaster.

"Oh my god! What happened?" Eyes bulged and everyone was frozen in shock. It was only then they saw a large craft, larger than any of their ships with the exception of the Bastion. It had a hollow interior, like a huge cannon. Purple energy flared within the hollow and a beam sliced through the darkness narrowly missing the Raven. A second beam raced outwards and like a sharp knife cutting into a cake, the flag ship was carved neatly and horrifyingly in two.

The remainder of the battle fleet disintegrated as alien ships mopped them up.

"This is worse than any horror vid," said Kerril, her legs feeling rubbery as she sat down.

"We have to do something!" said the lispy man.

Bryce turned to him, his face full of anguish. "We're too far away."

"We can't just sit here!"

Kerril's eyes were puzzled. "Bryce, why are they showing this to us?"

"I…" He thought about it, suddenly realizing it would not be good for morale if they saw the best of the Empire's fleet being slaughtered. "You're right. Why would they show us this?"

"Maybe it's not what we think."

"I hope not."

Even more alien ships appeared. "Is there another jump gate?" It was getting worse.

A large hole appeared on the top of the Bastion, near the front. The massive ship shuddered and a large missile, a small speck in comparison to the Bastion, sped towards the alien fleet, leaving a glowing trail.

"What the hell is that?" More than one person said in surprise.

"It'd better be good or we're toast," said the cynical older man.

All of a sudden, the Andromedan ships were sucked together, colliding with each other and crushed at the centre. Then there was a bright green explosion and ripples of green rings radiated outwards, smashing into tiny pieces any ship not caught by the gravity well. It was a scene straight out of fantasy.

There was shocked silence, they had all turned into disbelieving statues. Then a strong, reassuring voice boomed throughout the ship. They all recognized the voice of Fleet-Commander Bernard Negisaki.

Everyone leaped to their feet, those who were not already standing. Tears of pride and happiness flowed down relieved faces and shouts of joy and triumph echoed through the ship. Bryce hugged Kerril, giving her big, sloppy kiss. She blinked in surprise but did not pull back.

My fellow citizens of the Confederate Empire and her allies. Today we managed to avert a great tragedy. Decades ago the vile Andromedan force attacked our galaxy and we managed to push them back by working together.

Today they returned intent on wiping out all life in this galaxy. We were barely able repel the invading fleet, but only through the sacrifices of many brave men and women did we prevail.

Do not be over confident, my friends. We were saved by mere chance today. As we all know, the Empire faces enemies on many fronts. Both alien (he paused and stared hard at the screen) and within our own borders.

This is a reminder – a reminder that we cannot afford to stand divided. If the Andromedans attack like this again, we will not have a force as large as the Flagship Bastion at our disposal.

We can no longer afford to fight amongst ourselves. The Empire needs to stand together to fight back the Andromedan threat.

This is a call to all those in our galaxy who have not yet joined us. We are all still in great danger. Our enemies would destroy us all if given half a chance. We implore you to join the Alliance so that we may fight back this threat together!

Please, honourable people of the Empire. Please come back to us – we need you now more than ever.

The Bane of Gremlin's Life

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 15:24:51 GMT

The black telephone wire is the bane of Gremlin's life. It sits just above his head in his eating area. He always eyes it suspiciously and every few bites, he would lift his head and stare at it as if expecting it to grab something from his bowl.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 18

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 15:55:42 GMT

Category: Action, Drama, Angst
Rating: PG
Warning for violence
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: The deadly mutoid attack. The team infiltrates the Research base.

Note: Added a few lines to the memory sequence. Marked in blue.

Note 2: Fixed the vampire reference and the mix up in injuries. Thanks, jaxomsride.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Eighteen

Next Chapter

As Avon rolled to the sound of Jenna's warning, he threw his cane at the sound of the gun that fired at him. A shot rang out and there was a thud as a body hit the ground. "Jenna?"

"I'm still alive." She had been able to bring her gun around when Avon's cane distracted the mutoid. "Here." Jenna handed the cane back to him as she saw the last of the mutoids falling.

Avon wrapped his fingers around the dragon-handle. "It flew out of my hand as I was rolling."

"I'm sure it did," said Jenna as she helped him up. "Lucky for me."

"Wasn't it?" There was the barest of smiles on both their faces.

Avon tilted his head to listen but the sounds of scuffling and weapons fire had ended. "The battle is over."

"Seems like it."

Argus prodded a mutoid with his foot as he assessed the injuries of both sides. Most of the mutoids were dead, the rest were injured. One of the wolves had died, several were injured, Sgt. Dyre was in bad shape with an abdominal injury and Lt. Dain had a dressing over a head wound that was still bleeding. "Avon, Jenna, you alright?"

"Relatively." Avon touched the large bruise swelling on his right arm and grimaced.

"I'm alright." Jenna bent down and helped Sgt. Harley untangled a whining wolf - it looked like Black-Tail - from a wiry net that had heavy stone-like weights on the edges. "Argus, they were trying to capture the wolves," she told him.

Argus pressed his knee gently into the back of one mutoid, as he slipped her belt off and looped it around her wrists. Even injured beyond the ability to get up, she still struggled and tried to fight, further hurting herself. A function of her programming he guessed. "I realized that when Bright-Eyes couldn't hear the pack."

The she-wolf was pacing the battlefield, her nose touching those who were injured, human and wolf alike. She was like a mother, frantic that her children had been hurt and trying to help all of them.

* She is a good mate, * sighed Wolf. His affection for Bright-Eyes filled Argus and he loved her too.

* Yes, she is. *

Bright-Eyes whimpered when she reached Good-Nose and nudged his still body.

The glare of a descending ship lit up the forest. They all looked up in alarm and those with weapons aimed them towards the new threat.

**********

"There's weapons fire up ahead." Cally's hands were steady on the navigation controls. Next to her, Reya leaned forward towards the screen. "I see it. Can you land us near it?"

Cally touched the nav screen. "You think it's them?"

Reya had slipped her weapon free of her holster. "If it’s the Federation, they might be in trouble."

Vila stuck his head between the two of them. "What's going on?"

"Get ready by the hatch, Vila. We might need to exit quickly." Reya unstrapped herself from the seat with a click. "There's a battle up ahead. Tell the others."

Vila rushed off muttering, "From the frying pan, into the fire."

"That," Reya stood up, her eyes amused, "actually makes sense."

"He does have a way with words at times," said Cally distractedly as she entered the landing sequence.

**********

Argus was the first to greet them. "It's good to see you."

"I thought you might need some help," said Reya, surveying the damage.

Cally, Corinne, Kirsten, Vila and the team of soldiers rushed to help the injured.

"You're hurt again." She touched the sticky red area around his shoulder and sighed.

He gave her a wry smile. "Sorry, I can't seem to follow orders."

"You do have a problem with that."

"It's stopped bleeding," he said hopefully.

"Well, that's something. It looks like a clean wound. A tissue regenerator should fix it." Reya went off to find one.

"We can leave the wounded here." Avon's cane tapped on the rock surface as he came up behind him.

"I was thinking that," said Argus. "And a team to secure the shuttle."

The battle had been fierce. Most of the mutoids were dead and the remainder critically wounded. Sgt. Dyre received a leg injury that needed to be immobilized. Lt. Dain had a concussion on top of the gash on his head and was currently under Cally's orders to rest and not do anything. Baxter was disgustingly healthy, young and energetic as he helped with the injured. At least that was Sgt. Harley's grumbling comment as he slapped a healing pad to a phaser burn on his upper arm.

The worst news was that Good-Nose died when he charged two mutoids after Baxter's gun misfired.

The other wolves whined and some whimpered as they touched their noses to his still body. Several of them were limping and moving slowly due to injuries but they refused to leave his body. Bright-Eyes licked his muzzle and nudged his neck.

"They want the wolves," said Avon as he watched this display.

"I know. We have to stop them." Argus took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "It doesn't feel any better when its wolves."

Avon turned his head towards Argus, his mind's eye giving him an image of the tortured man beside him. He nodded imperceptibly though his voice had no expression. "Sentiment."

"I know you think it’s a weakness."

"Not for them." Avon faced away, his ears sharp for any unusual sounds. The mourning of the wolves was a requiem that touched deeply to places that had never healed. Rains began to fall, becoming tears that dripped down their faces and washed away the signs of violence.

Avon's next words were quiet, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear them. "Not for us." He didn't understand why but in the grief of those he barely knew, he saw it clearly, this man's weakness was their strength.

"Let's get everyone into the shuttle," said Argus as he went to help lift the dead wolf.

**********

After determining the people who would stay to tend to the wounded and guard the shuttle, a small group infiltrated the base. Bright-Eyes joined them, guiding Avon's steps. She refused to be left behind in the search for her mate and for answers.

Vila unlocked a small office along a corridor of similar offices and they rushed inside before anyone saw them.

"We need access to their computer network," said Avon. Bright-Eyes led him to a cluttered desk as Jenna sat down behind the computer. She was tempted to clear some of the mess away, the multi-coloured data crystals and stacks of plasti-sheets, but remembered they didn't want anyone to know they'd been there.

"Try to access their daily nutrients log," said Avon as he felt along the side of the computer and popped out a panel. He opened the loose flap of the equipment bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a mini-computer and a clear lead. Jenna tapped on the keys and a main menu appeared on the screen.

"Avon," Argus was by the door with Reya, keeping watch. "The last time we were here, the information we needed was in a secured lab. It wasn't attached to the network."

"That would be logical, if we were attempting to access classified information. Daily mutoid maintenance would not be in that category."

"That's true." Argus concentrated on his own task of keeping them safe.

"Vila, do you see three wires, red, blue and orange connected to a triangular wafer?"

Vila squinted, peering inside the computer and touching them with sensitive fingers. "I see them."

"Strip the blue one and connect this wire." He handed Vila the clear lead from his bag.

As Vila did this, he glanced over at Avon's intense face. "You know what we used to call mutoids in the Delta grids?"

"You will no doubt enlighten us." He was about to add 'whether we want to know or not' - which he didn't - but he remembered his promise to work on their relationship.

Cally had been trying to show him that being completely honest was not necessarily a relationship-enhancing quality. Of course, Avon had objected. Relationships should not be above the truth but she asked him to consider it. He would never understand human irrationality but he could occasionally keep the truth to himself.

"Done." Vila said with a flourish. "We call them vampires because they drink blood."

Avon touched the keypad on the mini-computer and pressed a few buttons. "You're repeating yourself. You've said that before."

"It still applies."

An irritated edge crept into Avon's voice. "Mutoids obtain nutrients from a blood serum using an efficient delivery device grafted directly to their circulatory system. That does not make them vampires."

"Well, you can call them serum-sucking delivery systems if you want; they're still vampires to me."

The computer beeped. Avon said dryly, "Then you would call me a vampire if I need to use the blood serum?"

"Oh. Well…" Vila looked embarrassed. "I didn't mean it that way. I would never call you a vampire, Avon." He smirked. "Not anymore."

Avon 'glared' at him and wondered how committed he was to being sparing with the truth. He turned to Jenna. "Do you have the information?"

"I have the location of the blood serum stores."

"Good. Now access their security system. I will provide the by-pass using this."

As the others were accessing the computer network, Argus felt strange and melancholic. The last time he came to Tingash he had been captured and one of his rebels had died.

But there was something else now. This was where he received the wolf in his head. The one that enabled him to kill.

His vision dimmed and he shivered.

**********

It was cold and his head hurt. "No!" Jack shouted as he remembered struggling with the people in black, trying to give Vila the chance to escape.

I can't move! He opened his eyes and squinted when the glare of the overhead lights blinded him. He tried to move but metal bands held him down, wide ones across his chest and hip, and narrower ones biting into his wrists and ankles. He didn't have any clothes on.

The people in black must have hit him over the head and brought him here. The walls were white and there were grey drawer units lining one wall. Instrument trays sat on carts beside his bed. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were all for but he had the sinking feeling he was going to find out.

Fear touched him like tendrils wrapped around his insides and clenching slowly. The boy pulled as hard as he could against the restraints, straining until every muscle was clearly defined beneath the skin, but it was no good.

"An excellent specimen." It was a female voice. Sharp. She could have been talking about a good lab animal.

"Yes…if he weren't, he wouldn't be here," a deep male voice replied.

The authority in the tone made Jack ask, "Who are you? What are you going to do with me?"

There was no reply. Jack twisted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the people behind the voices.

"Unusually strong in body and mind. The readings are off the charts," said the woman as she made comments on the test results. "Genetically exceptional."

"He would be. Prepare the conditioning unit," said the bass voice.

Jack saw snatches of white coats as lab techs followed the orders. A familiar device moved towards him on silent rollers.

"No!" He struggled again. It was the domed learning unit from the Academy, but he doubted if it would help him learn anything, if it ever did. There was nothing he could do, there was no escape, but he continued straining against the hard, unyielding bonds.

Before they took his mind, he needed to find out what happened to the others. Make sure they were safe.

"Please, what happened to my friends? Are they alright?" There was no answer other than the conditioning unit wheeling into place by his head. He moved as far away from it as the restraints allowed. "It wasn't their fault. It was me. I put them up to it. Don't blame them."

The unit snapped into place and the dome rotated on its hinges, coming up over his head. Jack saw the light green eyes of a woman looking at him from the edge of the unit. His eyes pleaded with her. "Please, don't hurt my friends."

"You have no friends." Her cold voice chilled him even as the dome encased his head and he was plunged into darkness. Jack screamed.

**********

The wolf shook his head as strange thoughts filled his mind. His lithe young body leapt into the air, crashing into the metal bars that held him prisoner. With powerful jaws and tearing fangs, he bit on the enclosure and pulled, but the bars would not be defeated. Anger formed deep in his throat and erupted in a low menacing growl.

**********

The young wolf limped, dragging himself around the enclosure as he circled his tormentor, a two-legs wearing a dark skin suit and holding a metal club that spit energy, which burned. The wolf was brave. He would not whimper at the pain that wracked its body. Trails of blood marked his path.

He did not know why he hesitated earlier when he could have killed his enemy, could have torn out the throat of his cruel tormentor. The wolf didn't understand the strange impulses that were not his own, not wolf. Now he was fighting a desperate battle. His ears drooped with exhaustion and his flanks heaved, taking in air that was cold and froze him inside.

If he didn't kill his enemy soon he knew he was going to die.

The wolf thought of speaking to the two-legs with his mind but the pack leader had said that under no circumstances were they to use mind-communication with the humans. He didn't understand why but the pack leader was to be obeyed.

But he had to do something. He could feel his life bleeding away as his paws fought for purchase on the floor slick with his blood. The two legs slipped and fell back, the club flying from his hand and hitting the bars with a crack.

It was a chance! One chance. Maybe his last one.

Let me do this! He told himself, not knowing why he would need to do this. The wolf bunched his hind legs. Sore, complaining muscles gathered for one last effort and he jumped. Front paws landed on the human's chest, pinning him down. The wolf bared its teeth and reached for the tender flesh at the throat, his fangs sinking in, tasting the warm gush of blood and bearing down with his jaws in a terrible bite. Then pulling, ripping, until a fountain of red hit his face and the human gurgled and stopped moving.

The wolf lifted its head up in a howl of triumph.

**********

Inside a laboratory room, a boy strapped to a table by metal bands, his tortured mind exhausted, opened his mouth in an inhuman howl.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Eighteen

Next Chapter

From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 20

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 13:59:23 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Drama

Description: Adrian needs to forget. More Bryce and Kerril.

Adrian charged into his cabin - which was very untypical of him - and quickly stripped, almost tearing his lab coat off in his haste to undress. He threw the clothes on the floor, not caring where they landed, and stepped into the shower. All he could feel was Boudreaux's hands on his body, everywhere. Even though she had only touched him in a few select places.

It had been terrible and enticing, overwhelming. His body warmed in memory and his pulse quickened.

No! He pounded his fist on the tiled wall.

Her seductive voice whispered in his mind. But I am never far, not for you. You will never be able to escape me.

Adrian twisted the temperature controls to the coldest setting, choosing the strongest jet spray, and slapped the ON switch. He gasped and every muscle tightened as cold water blasted his body, strangling any hint of warmth. His body shuddered violently and desire waned. He plunged his head into the cold streams; his mouth opening in shock as his brain seemed to freeze, driving out all thoughts of the woman who would haunt his life. His whole body was tight against the onslaught of cold driving against his skin.

It was good. Cleansing. Numbing cold. Washing away all traces of weakness. Of Boudreaux.

He could almost forget her name, but not quite. Not yet.

Adrian ordered himself to relax and braced his hands flat against the wall, forcing himself to stay. He needed the cold to touch his core, seeking to numb himself to everything, losing everything except the one person who meant the most to him.

**********

Kali was tired but happy when she returned to her cabin after the post-diplomatic briefing. The negotiations had been a great success and she had impressed the Admiral and his staff with her competence and psi abilities.

A soft smile spread across her face when she heard the strong splashes of water in the bathroom. Adrian must be washing up for the evening.

The Admiral had been bombarded with news about the Neutron Wave tests the moment he stepped off the teleport platform. It was almost as good news as the success of the Verindi negotiations, at least for the people on the ship. She knew it wouldn't be for Adrian.

Kali sighed and loosened her uniform collar. She shrugged off the stiff formal jacket with a sigh of relief. It was only then she noticed Adrian's clothes lying in a messy heap on the floor. This was unusual for a man who was organized to the point of fastidiousness. He must be extremely troubled about the progress of the Neutron Wave Project, enough to change his normal patterns. Or Kegan and Boudreaux had broken through his barriers, shattering his cool and control. Damn them.

She opened up her perceptions and reached towards the bathroom, and gasped at the cold nothingness from his mind. "Adrian!" Kali rushed into the shower. Adrian was standing as water splashed down over him. He was a hunched over statue with his arms and legs spread, and his hands flat on the wall. Just like someone bowing to the authority of a Security officer who was about to search him. His body shook like a leaf fluttering in the wind.

It was freezing. Kali hugged her arms around herself and a quick glance revealed the water temperature. She hit the OFF button and the water cut out immediately.

"Adrian, why?" She touched his arm gently. For a moment, he stayed in the same position, as if the water was still pouring over his body. He didn’t seem to hear or feel her.

There was an agonized exhalation of breath and his head moved slowly, looking up at the nozzle. With a shaky hand he reached for the ON switch

"No!" Kali pushed his hand away but he reached for it again. They wrestled as she stepped into the shower but his limbs were heavy, sluggish. She held him as he struggled, trying to push her away. There was nothing in his eyes, only a dead cold that chilled her even more than the water that soaked her shirt from holding him.

She didn't like to use her psi abilities without his permission but Kali reached into his mind, pushing, trying to find the places he left open for her. * Adrian, don't do this. Tell me what's wrong. *

The cold turned to pain as his eyes focused on her face. "K-K-ali?" He stopped struggling and sagged against her. Kali grabbed a large blue towel from the rack and wrapped it around his shivering body. His legs were unsteady and he leaned heavily against her as she led him back into the cabin.

He stared blankly and was unresisting as she lay him down on the bed and covered him with a heavy blanket. His eyes closed and he fell into an exhausted sleep. Kali brushed her fingers across his face, waiting for it to relax and lose its harsh lines, but it never did. Somewhere inside he could not sleep, he could not rest.

She slipped under the covers beside him and hugged him, pressing her body to his as her mind sent him as much calm and warmth as she could.

**********

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say something nice once in a while,” grumbled Bryce as he and Kerril lined up to watch the latest action holovid. A guaranteed heart thumper. At least that was the buzz going around the ship. Bryce was looking forward to this. In the lower level grids where he grew up, they had holovids but only the barest minimum in sensory inputs. He tried not to let his enthusiasm show too much. It would ruin the cool, experienced, man-about-the-galaxy image he was keeping with Kerril.

“By which you mean, nice to you I presume?” asked Kerril.

“Well, you know, I wouldn’t mind if some of it accidentally came my way. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

She stared at him, studying his face as if he were something under a microscope. “You have nice teeth,” she said seriously.

“I...what?” he asked, mystified.

“You wanted me to say something nice.”

“But...but...,” he sputtered, “That was it? I have nice teeth? Who says that?”

“I did.”

“But...” He was at a complete loss for words.

“You don’t like it?” She seemed hurt and that completely deflated any outrage Bryce was feeling.

“No. I mean, yes. Uh. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Kerril flashed him a smile. “And you’re great fun to tease.”

“You mean...” Bryce sighed and returned a wry smile of his own. “Don’t forget fun to insult at parties too.”

The line began moving. “How did I ever get along without you?”

“Luck?” They passed through the doors into the theatre hall. Bryce suppressed a rush of excitement. The walls had a brilliant sheen that reflected the best in holovid technology. It was going to be out of this world. They found their seats and sat down. "This must be really good. The place is packed."

“That's what they say." She leaned back and adjusted the sensory inputs. Her eyes glanced over at him. "I heard about the success of the Neutron Wave Project. It’s all over the ship. Congratulations.”

Bryce stared at her, not expecting the change in topic, and even more surprised that she was making the effort to be nice twice in a row.

“I didn’t have anything to do with it. It was the Lieutenant. He’s brilliant.” He copied her movements and marvelled at the plush comfort of the couch-like chairs and the sophistication of the sensory technology. There was nothing like this on the Sedener and definitely not in the lower grids where he grew up. This was going to be good.

“You help him.”

“Well, barely.” He flipped up the menu screen and scrolled through the options. “Which POV are you choosing?”

“I usually pick all of them.”

“But that’s no fun. Where’s the mystery?”

“This is an action vid.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s the intimacy rating on this?”

**********

The next morning, Adrian shuddered and his eyes opened. Kali was snuggled up against him, her body warm and comforting. He felt... Adrian lifted the blanket. He was naked.

Memories returned. He remembered standing in the shower as frigid water rushed over his body, chilling him to the bone. Kali had been there. It was a vague memory but she must have helped him.

She was always helping him. Adrian’s eyes closed, shutting out her image and hating himself for not being able to handle things on his own.

“Adrian? Are you awake?” Kali stirred beside him, her clothed body rubbing lightly along his. She felt good.

His eyes opened. “Yes.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine.” The curtness of his answers was not a good sign. Kali’s eyes searched his. Adrian’s walls were firmly in place this morning. “I don’t suppose you want to talk about what happened in the shower last night?”

“Not particularly.” He rolled away from her and contemplated the bare white ceiling.

Kali sighed loudly. “We’re headed to Serias 4 next to pick up some supplies. The Admiral is going to allow some R&R. Do you want to come to town with me?”

“I can’t.” Adrian didn’t want to explain that he couldn’t leave the ship because of the implant in his head. “I have work to do.”

“You need a break, Adrian.”

He turned to face her. “I will rest after the Project is finished.” Adrian drew his thumb along the curve of her jaw. For now, the shower had achieved its purpose. Boudreaux was a fading presence, held back by memories of the numbing cold.

He felt clean and secure with Kali. There were no pressures to perform or people to push him down. She was a safe haven and he treasured her for that. He wished he could be the same for her but he knew it wasn’t possible. Adrian drew her to him, allowing the warmth of her body to touch him, and kissed her.

**********

Chell poured himself a cup of coffee from a container in the side table. He dropped in a cream cube and stirred the murky depths with a spoon. The heady aroma of smoked vanilla tickled his nostrils. Just the scent of it made him more alert. “You were saying, sir?”

They were in the Admiral’s office discussing the impromptu trip to Serias 4. “We’re picking up a psychostrategist for Stannis.”

Chell came over and sank into the comfortable couch across from him. “That’s not good.”

“He is taking authority over Stannis’s case.”

As the Admiral drank his coffee, Chell shook his head. “Case? That makes him sound like a project.”

“He is someone’s.”

“Does that mean we won’t be able to help him anymore?”

Verel sighed as he put his cup down on the table. The gold fist emblem of the Empire glinted on its side, reminding him of his allegiance and that he was only an instrument for someone else's policy. “We’ll do what we can.”

“I’ve had a report from Security Section. Seems Kegan told them Stannis is political. They want to remind you that this is a serious matter and they should be allowed to handle it.”

“They do, do they?” The knife-edge in Verel’s tone could have cut through Herculaneum plating. “Tell them they do not have the security clearance to handle Stannis. And...” His smile was humourless and his eyes were dark, unforgiving pools. “If they do not back down, demote the whole section one pay grade.”

“With pleasure, sir.” Chell grinned. Security Section tended to think they were above everyone else and could do anything they wanted. The fear they inspired in others made them bolder than they should be. It was time to remind them who had the real power on this ship.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 17

Fri, 11 Dec 2009 12:40:03 GMT

Category: Drama
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: The enemy.

Note: Forgot to include one detail. Added at the end.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Seventeen

Next Chapter

Sester felt nothing. He was a mutoid officer, a cold, thinking machine. His steps were tracks that had been set, a pre-programmed course. He suppressed the part of him that automatically found amusement in life and did not take things too seriously. For a mutoid, that would never do.

It was difficult, but not too difficult for a man who had been a chameleon most of his life, becoming anyone he needed to be, reflecting images of people around him.

The clinging, imprisoning hard shell that was the mutoid uniform, reminiscent of old-style leather but considerably tougher, helped to maintain the image in his mind.

His curious mind wondered what it would be like to be a mutoid, not exactly emotionless, but without the drives that made humans act like humans. It was the work of the criminotherapists, overwhelming a person's personality and dominating it with another, more pliable one.

The Guild had similar specialists but they were more subtle, less destructive, using a person's natural personality and 'readjusting' it, making parts dominant and others recessive. The person would remain essentially themselves but their behaviour was modified to fit specific needs.

The fire and passion that was lacking in the mutoids remained intact for someone who had their personalities adjusted. It was a much harder process and required deep understanding of a person's personality, what made them tick. The crude process of wiping a personality and replacing it with something else was much easier and but ran the real risk of mental breakdown.

Sester walked confidently through the Research base. Once he was accepted as a mutoid, it was much easier. The people in the base were concerned about people getting in, not people already there. As long as he stayed away from the mutoids tasked with the security of the base, he was safe. Mutoids did not take initiative action except within the scope of their orders or assigned roles.

"I am here to check the security systems." Sester told the person in the security booth. He kept his voice devoid of inflection. It wasn't the sound of a machine mouthing programmed words; it was the tone of someone performing a task, who had no excitement or feelings about it.

The mutoid, a woman with cone-shaped hair and corporal rank markings, nodded and turned back to what she was doing. Sester wondered if mutoids were ever bored by routine or if it was a human weakness removed by their changed state. Someone whose attention would never flag or waver due to boredom or diversion would be a benefit that came at the cost of their humanity.

He slipped into a chair, careful to cover several screens with his body, just in case. Banks of monitors lined the walls, flickering images that showed every inch of the base. The Guild agent had been very good with what little she'd been able to do. Several of the scanner cameras had been positioned a little off-kilter, not enough to draw suspicion but just enough for a man, with his back flat against the wall, to pass without being seen. It was probably how she managed to penetrate the security in the first place.

Sester entered the appropriate codes supplied by the agent. Careless of them to not to change the access codes. They might not have realized she'd been able to transmit anything out of the base.

A menu opened up. Innocuous items. Regular information about the base.

Maintenance, work schedules, archives, various logs, accounting, Federation network, security division, research…

Research. Probably not what he wanted, but it was worth a try. His finger touched the screen. The menu shifted as Research became dominant and more items fanned for his perusal. A detailed list.

Transforming Pods.

That looked interesting. He touched the flat surface. Several of the screens in front changed images. Rows and rows, neatly lined, stretched as far as the eye could see. Long cylindrical metallic pipes with smaller tubes feeding into them. Lights blinked regularly on one side, like the beating of a heart. There were informational panels but he could only see the edges.

Sester looked down at the information screen and read quickly, scrolling through, barely giving the words time to get comfortable before moving onto the next.

Ten thousand pods. His heart beat faster. They were building an army.

There has to be more to it. Just building an army was too pedestrian for the Guild's enemies. Too simple. He accessed more information, reading research reports. Aggression Factor.

One of the greatest drawbacks of the mutoids was the lack of drive. They would function against all odds if ordered to, but they could not rise above the odds. They weren't able to create their own fates, as someone like Argus would be able to, they were victims to it.

The research scientists were trying to insert an aggression factor into the mutoid profile. Creating berserkers. Limited success. Unable to control subjects. Minds became unusable. Require stronger minds. Alphas?

Sester sat up, his fingers running along the edge of the smooth screen. Alphas were not subject to mutoid processing, their minds were considered too valuable. Unless…they ran afoul of someone with the authority to order it. The ultimate revenge. Or if it was done illegally.

His Master was right; this had to be stopped.

An embossed wolf's head, silvery and barely visible at the bottom right edge of the screen, caught his eye. He touched the muzzle, almost caressing it and smiled briefly at the reminder of Argus and the Wolf in his head.

A new screen popped up. Blazoned across a black background were words in red, Base Commander's Eyes Only. A wolf's head, proud and eyes fierce, stared out at him. Fingers of apprehension ran up and down up his spine.

**********

The wolves kept shaking their heads, unhappy they could no longer talk to each with their minds. Being able to communicate using body language was scant comfort. The oldest, most experienced Beta, Good-Nose, directed the others.

Black-Tail approached Avon, nudging him with his wet nose and butting his head against Avon's hand.

"I think he wants you to follow him, Avon," said Jenna. "I think they want to move." She was already on her feet, weapon ready in her hand and eyes sharp.

"I gathered that." He placed his hand on the shaggy fur, feeling the bunched muscles at the shoulder, braced himself with his cane and stood up. "Any indication where they're going?"

"Would it make a difference? You can't see."

"What an acute observation," said Avon in a flat voice. "Someone is jamming psi communications. It is unlikely they know the Justice is here."

"You mean…" Jenna looked around in alarm. "Someone is after the wolves?"

"It's a distinct possibility."

"We have to warn them." She looked at Black-Tail as his dark eyes regarded her curiously.

**********

Avon lay low behind the gnarled trunk of a fallen tree. He could hear faint boot steps scratching the rock. Close.

"Throw down your weapons and surrender." Jenna stepped into the open, her weapon pointed at the mutoid troop.

Blank faces looked at each other; even mutoids could be surprised. Their weapons trained on Jenna.

The mutoid sergeant stepped forward. She said in a flat voice, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

**********

The she-wolf streaked ahead, her silvery coat glistening in the flashes of the storm. Argus/Wolf paced her, but not because he couldn't keep up. He loved her form, the smooth rippling of her muscles beneath the bushy coat and the way her paws barely brushed the ground when she ran.

Wolf, keep your mind on the mission.

The creature grumbled but didn't say anything.

Argus looked back. Dain and the other three were pumping hard, trying to keep up. Not bad for humans.

What was he saying? He was human. Argus shook his head and focused on the task. Someone had blocked the wolves' ability to use their telepathic communications. It had to be a jamming device of some sort.

Just up ahead. They were close.

There was a whining-whiz sound and a glare. Jenna's weapon!

There were more sounds and flashes of light that lit the forest up ahead. Federation! It must be the mutoids.

Argus knifed his hand through the air, signalling the danger they all heard. They ran faster, danger urging them forward.

He gestured as they neared. There was no time for subtleties. They burst into the battle, blasting away at anything that didn't look like Avon, Jenna or the wolves. A battle was already raging. The startled mutoids turned to face the new threat.

In a split second, Argus assessed the situation, taking in all the details even as he brought down two mutoids with a quick double burst.

Avon lay flat behind a fallen tree. Jenna was beside him, the tip of her weapon spitting energy towards the mutoids. The mutoids were grappling with the snarling, biting wolves, finding it difficult to get good shots off with their rifles as the creatures weaved in and out like blurs of motion. Blood splattered on the ground from wolf, mutoid and human alike. Several wolves lay on the ground, trapped in weighted nets the mutoids had intended to use on them all.

It was a fierce ground battle. The mutoids were fast, strong and knew no fear. Two held a struggling Dain, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. Baxter aimed and shot one. Dain pulled his arm free and decked the other mutoid, snapping his head back and kicked him in the kneecap. The mutoid dropped like a dead weight as Dain rapped him on the back of the head. The mutoid’s eyes glazed over and he fell forward unconscious.

Argus brought down two more before being tackled from behind. He went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The mutoid was good, strong and experienced, but she was no match for Argus. He locked her arm up in a painful position and raised his fist. She stared at him suddenly, looking hard at his face. There was a flicker of something in her eyes that caused her to stop struggling just for a second in surprise, even as Argus punched her and she went down.

"Avon, behind you!" Jenna screamed as a mutoid, who had snuck up behind them, opened fire. Avon quickly rolled, the shot hitting the ground behind him, throwing up dirt and leaves. The mutoid aimed his gun at Jenna.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Seventeen

Next Chapter

From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 19

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 18:02:33 GMT

Rating: PG for suggestiveness
Genre: Drama

Description: The diplomatic mission to the Verindi. Kegan does not like Adrian's success.

Note: And one FYI, I have changed the rank of Chell to Captain rather than Sub-Commander. Being the First Officer of an Admiral of the Fleet, it made more sense for him to have a higher rank. I have changed this throughout the story.

A clear field. No furniture or people for that matter. No Verindi in sight. Only a flat, barren expanse of cracked rocks baking under the blazing double sun. Heat rose up in rippling waves.

The Trykor's diplomatic party coughed as they inhaled the dusty air.

"Where are they?" asked Chell as he choked out a question and covered his mouth and nose.

Laughlin, a tanned man with ears that stuck out asked, "Are we sure these are the right coordinates?" He looked around dubiously. Being the Chief Negotiator onboard, he was familiar with all kinds of diplomatic scenarios. Not having the other party show up being one, and gross incompetence hampering his work, being another.

Chell answered, "These were the ones we were provided with." He had double-checked before they came down.

"We'll wait," said the Admiral, shielding his eyes to look off in the distance.

Unlike the others who searched with their eyes, Kali opened up her psi perceptions. A torrent of impressions flooded her mind. They were being watched. There was a strong sense of curiosity. * They are here, * she projected to the Admiral.

He glanced over at her, not making it too obvious, a question in his eyes asking, where?

* Look up. *

Verel, keeping his eyes shielded, lifted his head up to the burnt-orange sky. A pyramid-shaped ship dropped out of the glare of the sun, its sides glinting. "There they are."

The others looked up, squinting. "A bit obvious isn’t it?" asked the other senior officer, Ouyang.

The ship descended, pushing air downwards as it slowed and landed not far from them. Large doors swung outwards and a ridged ramp slid down, hitting the chalky rock surface with a thump, throwing up a cloud of dust.

Five figures, all the same height and wearing dark green and brown uniforms with black double straps criss-crossed over the chests, came down the ramp towards them.

The officers arranged themselves behind Admiral on either side and waited.

The Verindi moved with stately, graceful precision, as if they were gliding. The two parties stood facing each other for a long few seconds, waiting and assessing. The middle Verindi, an older man with sharply intelligent grey eyes that looked as if they could pierce the soul, stood forward and bowed. "You are Admiral Verel?" The voice was melodic, careful.

The Admiral nodded in acknowledgement. "You are First Ambassador Kell-al?"

Kali felt a slight ripple of anticipation and something else. Her eyes half-closed as she concentrated harder. It was an undercurrent…an expectation of disappointment. Not surprising considering the lack of progress in previous negotiations. The anticipation was a welcome sign. It meant there was hope at least.

The Ambassador nodded once. "These are your officers?"

"This is my First Officer, Captain Chell. Third Officer, Commander Ouyang and Chief Negotiator, Sub-Commander Laughlin."

"Do you consider them impressive?" The melodic voice was smooth on the ears, which made his challenging question puzzling.

Verel hesitated. "They are my officers."

"Indeed," Ambassador Kell-al said grimly.

There was a pause, which stretched into an awkward silence.

They had reached a junction…and picked the wrong turn. But what was wrong? Kali was here to help the Admiral but she didn't understand what was going on any more than the others did.

The Admiral cleared his throat and gestured politely to the people behind the Ambassador. "And these are?"

The Ambassador looked at him gravely and nodded once before making introductions. Kali sensed a lightening of mood as this happened.

Taking this to be an encouraging sign, Verel said, "I would like to extend…"

* Admiral, let the Ambassador take the lead. We need to study how he approaches a conversation. *

Verel thought quickly and smoothly made the transition without a break. "…the good wishes of the Confederation Empire to your people. I understand negotiations have not gone well in the past and I must admit that I am no diplomat. Is there something I can do to facilitate these negotiations?"

"You wish an alliance with us?"

"I believe it would be in our best interests. As you know…"

* Admiral, let the Ambassador take the lead. There was a positive shift when you asked his input. Now it is moving the other way. *

"…the aliens are a threat. Have your people been attacked?"

That wasn't quite what Kali meant but the Ambassador seemed to appreciate the question.

He rubbed his hands together. "We have had numerous incursions along our border. I imagine you have had the same experience?"

"Yes. That is why we are proposing an alliance."

There was another long silence. Verel wondered if the Ambassador was considering the proposal but there was no change in expression on the Verindi faces.

Kali could sense the Verindi were waiting for something. Her mind quickly went back over the conversation and the impressions she received from them. A slight pattern suggested itself. Barely one. It could just be the normal flow of conversation, but there was one way to find out.

* Admiral, repeat your last sentence but formed as a question. *

She could see the Admiral turn his head slightly towards her before he said, "Would your people consider an alliance to be beneficial in meeting this common threat?"

The Ambassador smiled. "Would you do the honour of walking with me?"

* Admiral, continue framing questions rather than making statements. He appears to react positively to that. *

Verel nodded. "I would be honoured Ambassador." He extended his hand. "If you would lead the way?"

The two men moved away, their heads bent towards each other in conversation.

Kali touched her ear and the small receiver unit she inserted before they left the ship.

She heard the Ambassador ask, “You are a decorated Admiral among your people?”

“Trinkets. They mean little on the field.” The Admiral walked with his hands clasped behind his back. Sweat was beading on his brow and he wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. This was hot enough work already without two suns beating down on them. He glanced at the man beside him. The Ambassador moved with fluid steps, sliding his feet along the ground. “Empire diplomats have approached your people for an alliance before?”

This was acknowledged with a single nod. “Many times. You wish to know why they’ve never succeeded?”

“Was it the approach?”

Kali suppressed a smile at the Admiral’s directness. She was sure career diplomats would have all sorts of criticisms about this conversation, but the Ambassador was responding quite positively now, something no diplomat had ever achieved. It was a simple thing, but not one noticed by those who considered themselves in the stronger position. In the meantime, with Kali’s suggestions, Captain Chell and the two Commanders struck up conversations with the remaining Verindi party.

She heard the Ambassador’s response.

“It was the lack of reciprocal conversation. Have you been involved in diplomatic missions before?” The man didn’t seem to sweat or be bothered by the heat. His face was animated and his gestures expressive, a marked contrast to his earlier reticence.

“Involved yes. Directly, no. I have experienced negotiators for this type of task. Would you prefer speaking to one of them?”

“You are doing quite well.” He rubbed his hands together. “Would you like to ask me a question?”

* Admiral, he is ready. *

“What do you think of the proposal of an alliance?”

“As you said, we have a common enemy. An alliance would benefit both our Empires. I will accept tentatively and you can send your negotiators to work out the finer details?” He held out his hand and the Admiral grasped it firmly. “It’s a deal.”

**********

At the end of the day, after the triumphant test of the Neutron Wave accelerator unit, people began filing out, happy smiles still on their faces. Adrian entered test notes on the computer, preparing for the next phase.

“Don’t think this changes anything, Stannis,” snarled the other person who had not been overjoyed at the success of Phase One. “You’re still considered a traitor and you will get what’s coming to you.”

Adrian allowed the words to wash over him without commenting or acknowledging Kegan’s taunts. The Phase One tests were better than expected with the use of the ship’s impulse engines.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Stannis.” Kegan placed his hands on his hips.

A flash of irritation crossed Adrian’s face but there was no expression when he looked up at Kegan. The detestable man was on one of his daily tirades against him. The constant threats, expressions of dominance and attempts to humiliate him were tiresome. He stared at Kegan, beginning a count of the minutes before it would be over.

“Adrian only listens to people he considers worth listening to. Isn’t that right?”

Adrian’s back stiffened as Boudreaux came up behind him. She was very close.

Kegan growled, “Stay out of this Boudreaux.”

“And miss the entertainment?” She came closer, just brushing her knee to his back, and smiled as she felt him fight the impulse to flinch. The hard tension in his body was like a wall to keep her out. It was such a wonderful game to make that wall relax enough to let her in and delectable to feel the conflict as he fought the inevitable.

Adrian’s jaw clenched, feeling like a trapped animal between two predators. He was very aware of the danger if Boudreaux and Kegan worked together against him. With Kali away on the planet below, he had no help.

He had to maintain control, not let these two get to him.

Where was his iron discipline? It seemed to evaporate every time Boudreaux came near. He hated his own weakness and wished he had never become involved with this woman. She was enticing, extremely intelligent, witty and beautiful, in an icy statue way. It had blinded him to the other qualities until it was too late.

"The others think you're some kind of genius," sneered Kegan. "Not many of them know what you did. How many careers you ruined."

"That took genius too," said Boudreaux. "You fooled all of us. I didn't think you had it in you." The accusation was a shard of ice plunged into Adrian's body. His eyes tightened in a grimace and he was breathing faster. "I…" He didn't know why but he had an overwhelming need to say something. "…warned you to walk away from the Project."

Kegan's eyes contained fire as he shouted, "You planned it from the very beginning!" He grabbed Adrian by the collar and pulled him up, putting his face close. "I think..." His voice was a menacing growl. "You are political." He shoved him hard and Adrian stumbled back and would have fallen if Boudreaux hadn't put her arms around him. She said in cold warning, "Leave him alone, Kegan."

The Tech Commander stared at the two of them. Boudreaux still had her arms around Adrian and he wasn't resisting, or his attention was so preoccupied in glaring at Kegan that he didn't notice.

"I think…" There was a cruel smile on his face. "I will tell the Admiral you are political. Security Section will be very interested. Yes…I think I'll have a talk with Security." With a laugh, he left the room.

Adrian's chest was tight. The Admiral might be able to protect him, but Security was another matter. He looked down, startled that Boudreaux was still holding him. "You can let go."

Boudreaux loosened her hold a little and keeping one arm lightly around him, stroked her hand down his body. Adrian breathed sharply through clenched teeth as the touch reached the inner curve of his hip. His head was light and old desires were coming back full force. "Stop," he gasped.

"Make me," she whispered into his ear, her breath tickling him and sending shivers down his body. It was too much like old times, he had to break away. Adrian pushed out against the arm imprisoning him but her caressing hand slid further down causing him to arch his back instinctively. When they were like this, she was the fire to his ice, melting his reserve, tearing down his barriers.

"I...can't…' He tried to resist, tightening his muscles against the onslaught of sensations, but it only made it worse.

Sensing victory, she purred, "You always say that but we both know it doesn't make any difference. On some level, you want this." Suddenly she let him go and stepped back. Adrian blinked as if she had just slapped him. He sat down heavily on the chair, his fists held tight, his body slanted forward, his eyes reflecting the remnants of desire and anger, at himself and her. His voice was taut, full of pain. "Get out."

Boudreaux smirked. "I can do that to you anytime and there's nothing you can do to fight it." She leaned forward and her voice lowered. "What do you think your little Ensign is going to think…about our little interlude? Has she asked about me yet?"

"Get out!"

"I will go. But I am never far, not for you. You will never be able to escape me." She laughed too before she exited the room, leaving Adrian alone and tormented by his own weaknesses.

**********

Andrew Tennyson had contacted the Psychostrategist's Guild, asking for their top operator. He scrolled through the file.

Charles Sester. Senior Psychostrategist. This man had a reputation. Like him, Sester got things done. A bit of a wildcard. Unconventional and ruthless, but it was offset by his brilliance. Just the right man for someone like Adrian Stannis. Someone to shake his confidence, to keep him off-balance and to twist him on a mental level.

He sent his approval of the operator and left instructions to his assistant to facilitate the man's commission and his arrival on the Trykor.

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 16

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 13:45:20 GMT

Category: Drama
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: Stalking the enemy.

Note: I've made an adjustment to the scenes because I realized I made a mistake. Marked in blue.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Sixteen

Next Chapter

* Two-legs up ahead. * Bright-Eyes warned.

Avon rested his hand lightly on her shoulder as she guided his steps. Everyone dropped low, looking around warily, trying to listen.

The storm still raged around them, roaring in their ears. Random energy spikes ripped across the skies throwing light across their faces. The wind was sharp with cold.

"Where?" Argus came up to them. His breaths were wispy puffs of frosty air and his tattered shirt and jacket were draped around his body and held in place by his belt.

Bright-Eyes indicated the direction with her nose. * That way. I will investigate. *

"I'll come with you."

She shook her head. * I will be faster. *

Argus had a strong desire to be alone with her, to work together, to race across the landscape side-by-side… Wolf, stop it. We have a mission.

The Wolf grumbled inside his head.

* Who are you talking to? * Bright-Eyes asked, her head cocked in a mixture of curiosity and suspicion he might be soft in the head.

"How did you know I was talking to someone?"

* Your body shouts. *

Was this an insult, a criticism or simply a comment? It was hard to tell. "We're wasting time. I'm going. You can join me." He gave her a teasing challenging grin. "If you can keep up."

Bright-Eyes bristled. * No two-legs can beat a wolf in speed. *

"We'll see." He raced off without waiting.

The she-wolf turned to Avon. * Is he always like this? *

Avon said, * You're lucky. This is a good day. *

He didn't know if wolves rolled their eyes but this one nearly managed it before she loped after the Argus/Wolf.

**********

Avon leaned back, grimacing when the rough bark of a tree pinched into his back, and tried to rest. It took a conscious effort to ignore all the signals to his brain that demanded his attention. Sighted people would close their eyes to signal rest, cutting out the most important sensory input in order to relax the brain.

The sound of the storms, though disruptive and irritating, had been regulated to background noise. The unfamiliar smell of damp fur, the huff of the wolves breathing and the clicking of their nails on the rocks were new inputs he wasn't able to push into the background yet. The irregular dripping of water on unknown surfaces, the whistling of the wind and the rustling of leaves were unpredictable.

Jenna sat nearby, her weapon ready, eyes searching for signs of danger as the wolves kept watch and patrolled the area. "Avon."

His head turned towards her, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you really think this is where Argus received the wolf in his head?"

"All indications point to it." He leaned his head back against the tree.

"It's a scary thought."

Avon found it strange Jenna was attempting a conversation with him. He was the only human being nearby, but he wouldn't have thought that would be enough incentive to talk to him. "Quite."

"Is that all you have to say?" she asked with sarcasm.

At her tone, a faint smile touched Avon's lips. This behaviour was much more understandable. "For the moment." Until he understood what she was after.

"You didn't seem that surprised about the wolf being in his head."

Ah. This was the reason for the conversation. "You want to know why."

"I'm not blind. I know there's something between the two of you."

Avon wasn’t prepared to discuss his relationship with Argus but he had to give her something, satisfy her curiosity before she asked more questions.

He realized Jenna knew nothing about the Academy. She had not been present during the revelations and he didn’t feel like giving a history lesson, not about himself, but she was bound to hear it eventually.

"We knew each other as children.”

"I knew there was something."

He heard leaves rustling, twigs cracking and guessed Jenna was trying to find a comfortable position. A wolf huffed near them.

Black-Tail's mental voice put them on the alert. * Two-legs approach. *

"We need to find out who they are. They may be my pack mates." There had been no sign of Lt. Dain or the others who came down in the life pods.

The wolf exhaled loudly and Avon felt the warm, moist breath touch his face.

* They smell different. *

"Mutoids?" Jenna asked in alarm.

"That's possible." Avon planted his cane on the ground, readying himself to get up.

Black-Tail said worriedly, * There is something wrong. *

"What is it?" asked Jenna.

* The pack leader does not respond, * said the wolf, but Avon and Jenna did not hear him. They stared at each other, waiting for a response.

* What do you sense? * asked Avon.

The wolf continued staring at him.

"Something's wrong."

**********

Bright-Eyes glanced sideways, admiring the running form of the human beside her. He ran easily and silently, like a wolf on the hunt. Confident and alert. There was no question he was an Alpha. She found it odd there were two Alphas in his pack, though the Avon human had injuries to his eyes.

She smelled their quarry close. * They're here. *

They both dropped low and Argus lifted his head to look around. * Where? *

* Can you not smell them? * Her ears flicked in query.

* I'm not a wolf. *

* One can still smell. *

He was about to turn towards her with a response when he spotted movement in the long grasses up ahead and to his right. * Wait. I can see something. There. * He pointed. They slinked forward slowly.

A flash of the storm gave him a glimpse of fabric. Dark. Too smooth to be natural. Pointing his gun forward, he said, * You take left. I'll take right. *

Bright-Eyes looked after a human who gave orders so easily and expected them to be followed. She gave a soft sigh of irritation and weaved left.

Argus crawled forward, ready for anything. Adrenaline made his senses extra sharp; he felt elation, a high that only came from being in a dangerous situation. Wolf's eyes opened in his mind, an amber glow that was bright with anticipation. They were both enjoying this.

One. Two. At least two people. They were moving towards him, keeping low, and their heads below the level of the tall green grasses that swayed in the wind. No. Three. Maybe…yes, four.

* Bright-Eyes, on the count of three. *

* We attack? *

* Yes. One. *

Wolf took a deep sniff in the direction of the enemy. Familiar.

* Two. *

Argus asked distractedly, What?

* Thr-- *

Wolf said, Pack.

His eyes widened in shock even as he heard Bright-Eyes launch herself from her hiding place. Dain whirled to face the charging wolf and squeezed the trigger.

Argus jumped up, waving frantically, "Stop! Don't attack! Don't shoot!" The startled soldiers pointed their guns at him but recognized their leader in time. A shot burst outwards from Dain's gun and singed Bright-Eyes' shaggy fur. She barrelled into him and knocked him down with a crash, his gun flying, her amber eyes flashing angrily and her sharp fangs bearing down. The soldiers pointed their guns at her.

Argus ran forward. "Stop! Don't shoot the wolf! Bright-Eyes, don't kill him! We're all friends!"

Bright-Eyes directed her glaring eyes at him. * This is not my friend. * Her fangs were gleaming.

He calmed his voice. * He is my pack mate. This is a misunderstanding. *

The she-wolf looked down at the wild-eyed and struggling Dain. Having a creature the size of a pony sitting on your chest and looking like it was going to eat you, was extremely uncomfortable. She huffed and stepped off him.

Dain rubbed his chest and grunted as he got up. "Sir?"

"It's alright, Dain. I'll explain it later. We have to get back to the others."

Dain retrieved his gun and slipped it back into the holster. He grimaced and held his side.

"Are you hurt?" asked Argus.

"It's nothing, sir."

Argus looked him dubiously but there wasn't much they could do for now. "Let's go." He led the way back to the others.

"Sir, the wolf is following us." Dain looked back nervously at the creature that was shadowing them at the rear. Her amber eyes were eerie in the darkness and she seemed to be eyeing them suspiciously.

Baxter gripped his rifle tighter. "She looks hungry."

"They've volunteered to help us get into the base," said Argus.

"That sounds like there's more than one," said Dain.

"There's a whole pack."

Bright-Eyes said urgently, * Argus, there is danger. The pack does not hear me. *

Argus turned his head in alarm, looking back to where they came from. "We have to get back, run!" He was so preoccupied, he didn't realize he hadn't heard the she-wolf in his head. The Wolf had read her body language.

**********

Sester pulled on the skin-tight black trousers. They formed around his legs like a tough outer shell. It had been nerve-wracking sneaking through the base, but now that he was dressing as a mutoid, it should be easier.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Sixteen

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From the Ends to the Beginning Story Index

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 17:21:51 GMT

Thank you Em for the magical cookie! The gang thanks you too.

Argus and Reya are very appreciative.
Vila and Corinne are munching them happily and want to know where you got them from.
Avon, scoffs at the term 'magical' but the complex pattern is interesting. He appreciates that it's not too sweet.
Cally says Avon loves it and she does too.
Sester says thank you and can't wait to enjoy it but he's currently tied up.
Kirsten says thank you as well though she is somewhat preoccupied.
Wolf howled his appreciation and every crumb is gone.
Lt. Dain says you are very nice to think of them and thank you for the cookie.

Adrian and Kali: The Confederation Empire, Part 18

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 16:46:12 GMT

Rating: Gen
Genre: Drama, Action

Credit: The second scene is co-developed with Darkstar of Storiesmania. I am borrowing two of the characters created for a story he is writing within this universe.
His parallel story can be found here: The Confederation Empire: Bastion of the Empire – Part 1

Note: I am reposting this because I've added two additional scenes.

Adrian's face relaxed in sleep, smoothing out the harsh lines and hard set of the jaw, leaving a boyish charm. Kali touched his face and placed her hand on his chest, stroking him gently, feeling the comforting rise-and-fall of the chest. It was good to finally see him at rest. He had a tendency to bottle stresses up until the force of them tore him apart.

She knew working in the Lab was hard and exhausting for Adrian. His normally rigid control and emptiness of expression was tested constantly by Kegan, the detestable Tech Commander. Most of the time, Adrian could maintain an even temper and was only a faint, ordered presence at the edge of her consciousness, his mind a busy but calm hive of activity.

At least once a day, she could feel his frustration and anger rise to boiling level and he would come close to losing control. She watched for those times and would instantly be there for him, sending him strength and calm, encouraging him, reminding him what he needed to do.

He would do it for her, wrestle with his pride, bear the humiliation of bowing to someone he detested and learn to curb his tongue when he only wanted to speak the truth. It didn't always succeed but it was becoming easier. And with that ease, she was becoming increasingly worried. Living this way was wearing him down even worse than the pain in his head and the long hours.

He would come back to their cabin late at night with only enough energy to give her a brief kiss, drag himself to the shower and then collapse into bed, already asleep when his head hit the pillow.

Kali hugged him and placed her head on his shoulder, smelling the clean scent of him and feeling the warmth of this body. He was like a caged animal who needed to be free. If he continued to live like this, he would die.

**********

Everywhere the Empire was under siege, whether it was alien incursions or daily rebel actions. The Empire's forces were stretched thin. The balance was tipping towards chaos.

"In the Old Calendar, they had a Doomsday Clock." Andrew Tennyson leaned back in his chair and loosened his collar. When he was not being the man-who-was-to-be-feared, he could almost be human, to a few select people. One of those being fellow Fleet-Commander and clandestine lover, Anita Cressins.

The weekly State-of-the-Fleet meeting was finally over and Anita had lingered after the other Council members left. No one dared suggest they had anything other than a professional relationship though most of them probably knew.

When these two were alone, there was no rank between them, only a familiar relationship Tennyson had come to depend on. Only with her, did the deadness in his hazel eyes fade a little to reveal the man rather than a cold calculating tactician.

"That sounds ominous." Anita was highly intelligent and beloved by many. People would follow her to hell and back. However, some, mainly the rebels, called her a skilled and deceptive manipulator. Her blond hair, swept to one side and pulled in a sweeping ponytail in back, gave her an innocent air, but not that of a naive child. It was hard to believe ill of her, especially when you looked into her vulnerable blue eyes. In some ways, she was more powerful, by influence, than Andrew was even though she held the Fourth Seat in the Fleet Council and he was First.

But he was the one who got things done with brilliant and ruthless efficiency.

"Considering what happened later, I would call it depressingly prophetic."

She entered a few notes from the meeting into her datapad. "Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because, my dear," he sighed, the crinkled tension around his eyes signalling his frustration, "people never learn. The human race could be on the verge of annihilation, and yet all people are concerned about are their own petty regional interests."

"This is about the rebels, isn't it?" Her voice was soft and there was a natural sympathy to it that drew people to her.

A wry smile released some of the tension on his face. For some familiarity breeds contempt, but for Andrew it meant the security of someone who would not misunderstand him. "They're a nuisance. They make ineffectual attacks and claim a victory, but they tie up valuable resources we need to fight the aliens."

She nodded slowly, putting her datapad down. "Propaganda value. Even if they don't achieve their primary objective, they still win because they were able to resist. It gives dissenters hope. Or most likely, that was their primary objective in the first place."

"You understand them better than I do."

As a teenager, Anita had been forcibly conscripted by a group of rebels on her home planet and trained to work as a field medic. It was during those years she learnt the most about the hearts of people, what could break a person – and more importantly: what could make him indestructible. They were men and women of passion and ideals but she saw in them the same things Andrew did.

"There are…" In her mind's eye she saw the faces of those times. "…good men and women among them."

"Misguided ones." He stood up and went over to the large window that spanned the entire wall. From the top level of Fleet Command HQ, the people on ground level were little more than moving specks.

"They believed in what they were doing, just as we do." She came to stand beside him and for awhile they stood in companionable silence; the way only people completely comfortable with each other could be without intervening words.

The quiet sigh of the environment systems marked the time.

"What about Adrian Stannis?" Anita's question was a surprise but not unexpected.

"You know I take no pleasure in what is happening to him, but it is necessary. If he hadn't sabotaged the Neutron Wave Project in the first place, we would be able to concentrate on fighting the aliens instead of trying to wage a war on two fronts." He rubbed a neck tight from too much stress, kneading it with experienced fingers.

"Do we know why he did it?"

"I have Verel working on him."

"Perhaps we can try to persuade him to do the right thing." Her eyes were sincere.

The flicker of a smile crossed his face. "I knew you were going to say that." But even Anita could not chase the darkness away permanently. His eyes reassumed the look of the grim reaper. "But unfortunately, he refused."

Her eyes tightened slightly in a grimace. She knew only too well that look on his face and what it meant to those who would oppose his will. "So you're intent on breaking him?"

"Just enough to make him compliant. Not enough to interfere with his creativity. He's a brilliant man. I gave him an impossible deadline but it appears he might meet it. He doesn't disappoint."

"Unfortunately for him." Anita sighed unhappily. She understood the necessity but it didn't mean she liked it.

"He could help us end both wars much faster if he were willing to work with us."

She turned her head towards him. "Have you considered using the psychostrategists?"

"The mind-benders? I don't trust them. They're supposed to be mercenary but I have a feeling they have their own agenda."

"Everyone has an agenda. The trick is to find a conjunction of purposes. Within that, you can trust them. In this case, the psychostrategists can be trusted to fulfil their commission, as long as you pay their price."

His lips curled in distaste. He knew the reputation of the psychostrategists, a group of arrogant manipulators who saw everyone else as puppets. Andrew was motivated by a need to safeguard the human race. The psychostrategists were mercenaries and their skills were available to whomever could pay their exorbitant prices.

Nevertheless, if they could manipulate Stannis into working for them willingly, without breaking his spirit, it might be worth it. "I will consider it."

**********

The Verindi were pasty-coloured and hairless but otherwise humanoid, at least in a physical sense. The Empire had never been able to form an alliance with them, either political or for commerce. Not even for exchange of cultures. No one really knew why.

The diplomatic corps were stymied and it was decided to try a different approach. The Empire needed all the allies it could get in the fight against the aliens. Technology-wise the Verindi were on par with the Empire and had a substantial territory of their own that spanned two Sectors.

"Remind me why we're doing this and not one of the diplomatic ships?" grumbled Admiral Verel as he stood on the teleport platform, tugging at the high, stiff collar of the dress uniform that seemed intent on strangling him.

Captain Chell held back a sigh. Sometimes the Admiral could be like a petulant child when dealing with formalities. "You know why, sir. They weren't able to get anywhere with the Verindi. Fleet HQ thought they might be impressed with someone more forceful and has a reputation."

"I wouldn't think a reputation for killing people would be high on a list of diplomatic skills."

The Admiral was resplendent in his black dress uniform with high collar, not that different from the regular one except with gold accents and a chest glistening with an impressive array of ribbons, medals and commendations. Chell was similarly decorated. He was a tall hero-type, muscular in an ancient statue kind of way and could have made a good propaganda tool if the right people cast their eyes in his direction. Though he would be horrified at any such suggestion.

"You're seen as a hero of the Empire, sir."

Verel snorted in derision at the term.

Chell rolled his eyes. "Well if you will insist on delivering a dozen planets from alien occupation and holding the line at Turcotta Prime, you have to pay a price." The Empire had called on one of their most decorated Admirals, hoping his reputation would make the difference a faceless diplomat would not.

"I feel naked. I need a gun." One of the conditions for the meeting was that both parties be unarmed.

"Sir, you know we can't be armed."

"Even a knife would make me feel better."

Chell eyed him suspiciously. "Sir? You don't have one hidden somewhere, do you?"

"Of course not."

"They will probably use sweepers to check, just like we will." His eyes swept the Admiral from grizzled head to toe, looking for telltale signs. There were none but with concealing technology these days, that might not mean anything.

"I told you I don't." He paused briefly before giving a long resigned sigh. "But I did consider it. Briefly."

"I'm proud of you, sir."

"Are you patronizing me, Captain?" There was a hard edge in his voice.

"I wouldn't dare, sir."

Two senior officers and Ensign Tranton joined them on the teleport pad and Verel nodded at their acknowledgements. "Ensign, are you ready?"

Kali was nervous but she had to admit to a certain amount of excitement. This was challenging and she was looking forward to doing something that might make an impact. She squared her shoulders, exuding confidence. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He made sure everyone was in position. "Crewman, send us down."

The teleport energies surrounded them, outlining them and erasing their forms until there was nothing. On the planet below, they were redrawn full formed in an instant, in the middle of a clear field.

**********

In Science Lab 4, Adrian rubbed bleary red eyes and took a deep breath. He closed up the accelerating unit, sliding the panel into place with a click.

It was hard to concentrate knowing Kali was down on her first assignment for the Admiral. He tried to convince himself the restlessness he was feeling was irrational. There was nothing to worry about; it wasn't a combat situation. The Verindi were supposedly frustrating and mysterious but hardly dangerous.

"Day-dreaming, Stannis or is your vaunted brain stumped?" No one else's voice could sound quite as irritating as Kegan's grating one.

Adrian's back stiffened and there was a twinge of pain but he remained silent, impassive and in control. Working with Kali these past weeks helped him to realize it was easier to maintain his temper if he ignored Kegan rather than trying to respond with a scathing remark.

Ture, the military Comp Tech seconded from Research Division, gave Kegan a dirty glare. To the Tech Commander's annoyance, Ture had admired Adrian's work for years and counted himself one of his biggest fans. On the other side, Adrian had been flattered by the young tech's attention but it soon became irritating.

Ture was a lanky uncommunicative man, except when talking about computers or new technology he was unfamiliar with. There was a naiveté about him when he was enthusiastic about something. He said to Adrian, "Sir, I'm ready to test it when you are."

"Connect the leads."

When Ture smiled, it lit up his face like a child in a candy shop. He picked up two clear optical cables and began slotting them into place.

Professor Boudreaux came over and stood by a control panel by the workbench, the anticipation bright in her eyes. The other engineers were standing in a semi-circle around them, watching intently.

"Ready, sir." Ture stepped back and Adrian flicked a switch. Energy hummed through the machine, lighting it up with an intense golden glow. The excitement was palpable.

"Professor, if you would…"

Boudreaux pressed several keys. A fist-sized sphere sitting on a cradle rose slowly above the workbench as all eyes turned towards it. The sphere was dirt brown and had various marks written in red. It rotated slowly as it hung above the table.

Adrian angled a parabolic signal dish towards it. "Shields."

With a few more entered commands on the control panel, a sheet of energy surrounded the sphere on all sides like a large box. Everyone unconsciously leaned forward.

There was nothing else left except the test.

Adrian looked down at red button. It glinted invitingly almost begging to be pressed. How appropriate that it would be the colour of danger. He pressed it and looked up, his eyes hooded in dark thoughts, waiting for something he dreaded.

When had the advancement of science become something that made him ill? All knowledge is useful. But for whom?

All was silent as he imagined the waves of energy reaching out hungrily.

The surface of the sphere wrinkled. All breaths drew in at once.

Boudreaux's face was rapt with attention. Her expression brought back reluctant memories of a woman on the edge, anticipating a climax that would send her into blissful oblivion. Adrian was filled with disgust at fulfilling her desires and elation that made his head spin. So many years and nothing had changed between them.

There was a loud sucking sound and the dirt brown sphere imploded, sucking its surface into itself as if there was a creature eating it from the inside. A second later, the thing shattered outwards in a loud explosion. The lab shook, objects shifted and some fell with a crash. Everyone flung their hands up protectively and take a step back but there was no need, the bits and pieces hit the shield and sizzled into nothingness.

For a moment, they were all stunned and then there was a burst of applause as everyone clapped each other on the back and shouted their joy. At first, no one approached Adrian with their congratulations, it was as if he was in an island in the middle of the crowd.

Then Ture gave Kegan a defiant look and boldly approached Adrian. He said formally, "Congratulations, sir. We couldn't have done this without you." For a moment, there was shocked silence then they all surrounded Adrian, trying to express their appreciation for work that would enhance all their careers. It should have been a moment of joy, but Adrian's face was stony.

Mon, 07 Dec 2009 15:17:51 GMT

Have a great birthday!

B7 The Ends: Tingash - Chapter 15

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 15:08:57 GMT

Category: Drama
Rating: Gen
2nd Story of From the Ends to the Beginning

Introduction: What is happening with everyone else?

Note: This chapter is due to a request from jaxomsride, who wanted to know what was happening with the others.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Fifteen

Next Chapter

Hours earlier, in a life capsule hurtling towards the ground, Lt. Dain and Baxter were squished together. The wind buffeted the sides of the pod, shaking its occupants like ragdolls stuffed in a can. Energy spikes licked towards it, barely touching its sides.

Lt. Dain grunted in discomfort. "Baxter, move your elbow."

Baxter wiggled around to face him. "Sorry." He grunted breathlessly as Dain's equipment pouch dug into his side. "Bit of a squeeze in here."

Dain winced and tears blurred his vision as something lower down, he prayed it was a sidearm, pressed sharply against his groin. He could barely keep his voice from raising several octaves. "Move the other way."

Baxter squirmed in compliance. "You alright, sir? You sound odd."

All the rubbing of bodies in close quarters might have made Dain feel uncomfortable if he wasn't in excruciating pain right now. "Stop." He hissed through clenched teeth. "Talking."

The young soldier sighed and mercifully stayed still.

The agony began to fade and Dain could think again. He turned his head to look at the destination screen, a blue blip approaching a green circle. At least they were on target. A few more minutes. He leaned back against the padded seat and thought about the Commander back on the ship. And Avon and Jenna.

"Sir, do you think the others are alright?"

"We'll find them once we land." Have to stay calm, at least in front of the men. He had great confidence in the Commander and Avon. If anyone could find a way to survive, it would be the two of them, even if the situation seemed hopeless. At least, he wanted to believe it.

"And if we don't?"

"We still have a mission to carry out."

**********

A mysterious hooded figure dropped low behind a fallen tree. He checked a topographical map, tracing a line of red with his finger and comparing it to the landscape. His breathing was staggered and he was hot and clammy. What he wouldn't give for a hot shower somewhere indoors. Strenuous exercise that didn't have a pleasurable payoff was something he wasn't used to. Though if he pulled this off, he would feel immense satisfaction from having his plans work.

It wasn't often he was given a field assignment. Sester liked it, at least in a novel experience kind of way. The racing of his pulse, the tingled rush of energy, the sharp tang of danger and the way every sense seemed to magnify ten-fold, made life interesting. Almost as good as the exquisite tension he shared with Kirsten.

Department Four of the Federation Medical Research Centre, also known as the Advanced Technogenics Division. Birthplace of the mutoids, and now, something even more dangerous, though it wasn't clear what. It was one of the meagre pieces of information the Guild agent had been able to communicate before she died. Now Sester was to investigate and neutralize the threat. A tall order, especially for one not trained for the field, but his master had every confidence in him.

Sester glanced up at the dark sky and the ripples of angry energy that seemed to rip the fabric of the night. His ship would have landed by now and Argus, Avon and Jenna should be on their way to the base. He would have just enough time to discover what their enemies were up to while the others provided distractions.

There was a flicker of guilt, a flash of regret at having to use them like this, but there was no other choice. He couldn't do this alone. If the others knew, they might understand the reason for his actions. Maybe even applaud them.

However, he knew they would not be able to do what was necessary. Definitely not Argus and not even Avon, who was infinitely logical but predictably flawed.

They were what he was not. Perhaps that was why he was drawn to them. Ever since those early days when they became friends.

His eyes spotted something. A shape. An angle. Regularity in the irregular pattern of life. He found what he was looking for, an entrance to the tunnels that led straight into the base. The Guild agent's sacrifice had not been in vain.

**********

Reya paced the flight deck. "Zen, any change in the weather patterns?"

/* There is a 20% decrease in intensity of planetary storms in the indicated grid. */

A hopeful look passed between the occupants of the flight deck.

Cally immediately checked the tactical displays. "Is it enough for the shuttle to get through?"

/* There is a 50% probability for the shuttle to survive entrance into the planet's atmosphere. */

"Fifty percent chance of success means fifty percent chance of failure," said Vila.

The numbers rang a memory. He'd been willing to take a fifty percent chance at Control. Of course, it had been much more than that. It was a time he didn’t like to remember, except once a year, on the anniversary of Gan's death. He wondered what Gan would have made of this new crew. He'd probably have liked it. "But…"

He was a different man now and Gan would have probably liked that too. Fear would always make his mouth dry up and the blood would always pound in his ears, beating a rhythm of retreat, but he had grown and changed. For the better, he hoped.

Fifty percent chance. Glass half full. Glass half empty. He was usually on the short end of most things, but he had to admit, his luck had been better this past year. "We can't leave them down there."

Reya's eyes were hard and focussed. "No, we can't. Cally, are you able to contact Avon?"

Cally shook her head. "There's a great deal of interference from the planet."

Corinne's brow lifted in puzzlement. "You mean the storms are affecting your psi abilities?"

"At first, I thought Avon was preoccupied but it's more than that. From the scanner readings, these storms create energies that produce waves similar to those used for thought transference."

Kirsten, who was sitting on the ledge in front of Zen's interface, leaned towards her. "You mean these waves pass through other dimensions just like yours do?"

"Isn't that dangerous?" Vila was all ears. He remembered the last time a creature tried to cross dimensions. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat.

Cally's hand went to her head as she opened up her perceptions to 'read' the energy of the storms below. It was like static from a broken transmitter, though occasionally the static seemed to form random words. "These ones are not directed." Her head moved, as if she were trying to find an angle that would give better reception. "It's hard to tell with all the 'noise.' When I spoke with Avon earlier, he seemed far away but that must be because of the storms."

* Cally. * Avon's voice was faint.

* Avon! * The sudden wide-eyed relief on her face told the others that something was happening.

Reya asked, "Is it Avon?"

Cally nodded but her eyes were unfocussed. * Avon. I've been trying to contact you. *

Avon's mental voice was calm, impassive but there was a current of relief that was impossible to hide. * I've been trying to as well. *

* Is everyone all right? *

Static ate up his words * …injuries but everyone…survived. * Cally closed her eyes, her hand touching her temple in concentration, trying to push through the static. * Avon, did you say everyone survived but there are some injuries? *

* Yes…ship exploded… *

She provided a running commentary. "He says everyone survived but there are some injuries. The ship exploded."

Reya closed her eyes briefly, allowing relief to show on her face as Kirsten gave a long sigh.

* Wolves…agreed to help…into the base. *

* Avon. Can you repeat that last bit? Did you say wolves are helping you? Avon? * She pressed her temple, trying to concentrate harder. There was only static. "I've lost contact." Her voice trailed off as she tried to make sense of the last communication.

"What else did he say?" asked Reya.

"I don't understand it. He said wolves were helping them."

"You mean Wolf?" asked Vila. "Argus's Wolf?"

"No, he said wolves."

"That's strange," said Corinne.

Kirsten slid off the ledge. "Maybe you heard wrong. Maybe it only sounded like wolves."

"It could be," said Cally.

"Alright, we have to go down there," said Reya. "Cally, Vila…" She stared at the screen.

Cally was about to head to the steps but she sat back. "What are you thinking?"

"The greatest danger to the shuttle is from the energy spikes."

She checked a few readings to verify. "That sounds right."

"What if we boost the shield strength to block those energies? How long would it take?"

"Just those energies? An hour, maybe two? We'll need the engineers."

"Do it."

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