Welcome back. I told you that you wouldn’t destroy them.

Matt’s body was back under his control, but his awareness had extended well beyond the meager limits of his flawed form. The entire infinitely expanding energy net had become his eyes and ears, and he could see more clearly then ever before. He quickly heated the floor beneath his old body past the boiling point of the alloy and had his body step through the liquid mass to escape from the enraged Zachit, not that they could actually damage him, but if he was to devolve again he wanted a suitable body and that physical form suited him well.

Who are you?

The voice was no more of a real problem then anything; he could almost see the entire infinity of the multiverse. The fact he didn’t know everything was only a minor inconvenience.

You don’t remember me? I’m hurt. Perhaps voice was the wrong word, Matt still wasn’t a telepath, the presence was conveying it’s message through a series of rapid energy streams that Matt instinctively understood. Still I wouldn’t expect you to remember every one of the infinite beings you’ve murdered.

Matt had only ever committed two murders, this presence must be the assassin he’d killed on the day he killed Jennifer. It hurt to think back on that, even in this powerful state. He must have built some humanity into his array.

Look, I’m sorry about killing you and all, but do you really want to die again that badly? I didn’t mean to kill you, it was out of anger, I promise I won’t do it again. Now leave me alone.

He wasn’t any more skilled with energy communication then he was with words, but the energy was able to convey another sixty levels that even telepaths would have found confusing. The intent behind the message would be easily understood, but the presence evidently wasn’t going to disappear. You don’t understand Milhelm. Matt hadn’t heard that name for a long time, since before he’d even met Jennifer and well before this fool had tried to kill him. I’m not going to kill you out of a misguided sense of revenge. I’ll admit that my first attempt was because you destroyed my homeworld and killed a few billion people, but I’m over that now. Strangely enough there wasn’t even any sarcasm in his voice, he still believed that Matt was responsible for the death of his world, but he didn’t have any emotional attachment. A few billion years to contemplate and gain strength help to put things in perspective. I’m going to kill you because otherwise you’ll destroy more worlds and infinitely more people.

Matt may not have been human anymore, but he still felt wounded by the accusation. Both that he had destroyed his homeworld, and that he would destroy more people. It didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to change this fools opinion on the terror that he was.

Perhaps the fool actually could kill him; Matt doubted that anything could anymore, but it was worth a try.

How do you propose to finish me off? He was starting to get used to this energy communication, the question was laden with scorn and a bit of apparent overconfidence. It was all a façade, but if the boy could kill him a little more dishonesty wasn’t going to be damning in the least bit.

The presence solidified somewhat as if it was gaining power. Easy, I almost killed you last time. He had? It was news to Matt, he’d felt a surge of energy when the boy assassin had shot him and he’d lost control killing both the child and Jennifer. I know how you wired yourself now so I can exploit the advantage intentionally. The energy that the presence had summoned moved instantaneously through the multiverse into the universe where Matt’s body was and just as quickly into the station. His body didn’t actually matter anymore, he’d rather keep it but even if it was destroyed he could just build a new one. You see, when I got you angry enough to kill me the first time it almost destroyed you. I’ve done the calculations, if you murder me again the recoil will kill you. Interesting philosophy this boy-god had, self-sacrifice was admirable but this was one suicide method that Matt wasn’t going to try out.

I’m not going to kill anyone. He couldn’t, the biggest mistake of his life had been his murders, nothing could make him kill again.

Even if it’s me or the girl?

Matt saw where the energy was heading now, straight for Yume. Even she wouldn’t stand a chance against a being with more energy then any single universe.

Matt’s body rushed towards Yume, ignoring all obstacles until it skidded to a halt after running through a liquid wall less then five feet away from her. Even without a guiding intelligence, it somehow knew that she needed it to be there.

She charged at the nirttef as she was not pleased that Fettrin's thing was getting in the way of her conversation with Jacey. She was sure she had told Fettrin that she wanted Jacey to herself, so why was his thing getting in the way? She held her s-shaped weapon in one of her hands as she quickly charged at the nirttef. She slashed at it and watched as the nirttef turned into black mist as its cape remained. She frowned a little as she watched the mist move away as she wasn't playing games. She wanted to talk to Jacey alone and in private. If this thing thirsted for something, then it should go look somewhere else. Jacey was hers and she wasn't going to let this thing harm him. She would do that if she saw fit. She glared at the mist as it slithered away before she looked back at Jacey as he held his own blade. Yume wouldn't hesitate to attack another nirttef if they decide to get in her way.

She put her weapon back at her side as she looked to Jacey who just stared back at her. She finally noticed that this wasn't the Jacey she had grown to know. Something was just different about him as she stared into his eyes which seemed to have lost the warmth that she thought she had started to grow fond of. But was he hiding something behind that serious, cold expression? Just like her even though she wouldn't admit it. Her nature still fought her humanity. Could this really be Jacey? She wondered as she looked to him The one she had grown fond of? No... This Jacey was different. She suddenly realized that she had grown fond of the cheerful Jacey. The one who was persistent in breaking the wall she had formed around her to reach her soul. But this one... She just stared at him with uncertaincy. This one had actually fired at her. So had she been right? Was the Jacey she had grown fond of had just been an act? Could he had been doing what she had about to do to him? Had he been just using her?

"Like I was saying... The Yume you have grown to know is different from what I was in the past. I barely remember who I was in my past. The people behind my creation wiped out most of my memory in their attempt to fix in me in what they saw as a flaw. Right now I'm searching for my past. The one that haunts me, relentless in its pursuit for my soul. I'm also searching for the memories I was stripped from... I'm searching for the person... Or thing as I remember my creators called me... that I was before this one I became. But this is of no true importance to me and I don't care if I find these answers. The one thing I really want is to find the people behind my creation and expurgate them from the universe. I believe hatred and revenge is what drives me. And yest, Jacey, I can feel thes things you creatures call emotions even though I think I would have been better off without them." Yume just watched Jacey raise a brow before she continued. "I don't seek revenge for these peole creating me. I crave revenge upon them for making me kil a creature which I had grown attached to. He didn't deserve to die. At least not by my hands. He hadn't done anything and yet he made the mistake you were trying to do before you found out what I really was. Unless you knew all alolng and was just playing with me..."

Yume stared at Jacey as he said ntohing and seemed to be intently listening to her explain herself to him. She wondered what he could be thinking as she told him more than what anybody else knew except for Page but Page had made her tell him and she was willingly telling Jacey. Now she just wondered if she would have to kill Jacey after thier conversation. "This creature was somehow involved with me back then. He was optimistic and cheerful boy who reached for his dreams while not letting anything bring him down. He sticked by my side and was always there to greet me after waiting for me to return from my assignments. But like you, he tried to find the good in me and my creators didn't find this pleasing. They started to see him as a threat as he spent more and more time with me. And to test me, they ordered me to kill him. And I did... althought not without a price. It was then that I realized how much he had affected me as I stood in my quarters or so I think since I don't remember much.. My creators also took notice that he might have affected me and feared it. They attempted to wipe out my memory.... I don't remember much after that. But something made me betray my creators, I do not know what. But after I escaped, it's then that the impact of what that boy had on me emerged since I remembered most of the memories with him. I didn't remember much about my life with me creators. So their method to erase my memories somewhat backed fired. And over the years, this is who i became to be... The Yume you have grown to know, not the person from the past since that person is all but gone now. The boy's name was.. Christopher..."

She paused for a moment to look down as she felt hatred and sadness worse than death wash through her and she had to keep from shuddering while she struggled to keep her emotions in check and succeeded somewhat. "Because of these emotions, I seek revenge for Christopher's death. I know I was the one who ripped his heart from his chest but I won't destroy myself until I destroy the ones who ordered me to kill him. Then maybe this unbearable sensation burning inside of me might cease. You said something about your sibling. Do you believe that I could be responsible for whatever happened to him? Maybe I am or maybe I'm not. I don't know who your sibling is or how he looks like. And if I am responsible, it might be likely that I did this to him when I was with my creators and if that is true, I might not remember. But you make it sound like you are sure that I was the one who did this thing that you want revenge for. Heh, so it might seem we have something in common. Revenge... Tell me, if you think I am the one responsible, what are you going to do? Try to kill me? Perhaps that's why you pretended to like me as more than a companion. To make me think that you were harmless when you in truth weren't and also really was the mate of that assassin that attacked me. So is this true, Jacey? Was the Jacey I grew to know an act? Or is the Jacey I'm talking to still the one I know and grew to like?"

Yume watched as Jacey blinked after the last question she had asked him. Well, she had decided to tell him everything and she would but she would keep Fettrin out of it for now since she didn't see for her to tell anything about Fettrin. "Yes, Jacey, I do ilke you. Or I did... depending upon who you really are and if you in fact are the mate of the assassin since the DNA on your lips is strongly pointing towards that you are involved with the assassin in some way. I like you Jacey because you reminded me of Christopher. Of course you are not him but you are like him... You seemed to be optimistic and cheerful while you reached for your goal to see my soul like you wanted to reach. You really reminded me of him. Even though I might have not exactly expressed the same feelings toward you, you weren't brought down by this and continued to work on finding the good in me. But now as I stand here, the Jacey that I'm seeing right now... Is it the Jacey I grew to like? Or was the Jacey I grew to like never existed? Perhaps I shouldn't have associated Christopher with you as you stare at me that way. But then again, I guess I can't really blame you, now can I? I will admit that I had planned to use you Jacey. But after a conversation with the blind man, my eyes opened to the wrong I could have done to you and had decided to tell you everything even at the risk that you would shun me. I wanted the best for you Jacey. I thought you deserved better. And that I didn't deserve someone as loving and kind like you, like I didn't deserve Christopher but I didn't want Christopher's fate to repeat with you..."

Yume paused fora moment as all that she had said was true. None was a lie or made up. She now decided that she had told him enough as she just stood there a few feet away from him while staying alert to keep anything from disturbing them but she had noticed a commotion not too far away from where Jacey and Yume stood but she didn't pay too much mind to it for now. "And now I have explained myself to you. So now it's your turn to speak what you must and want to speak. I wait now for you. And tell the truth, I can tell when you lie so don't try to. So now you explain yourself to me as I have revealed to you what you wanted to know and now I ask of you to tell me waht I want to know and what I must know. So speak if you will Jacey... I wait patinetly for you.. and now I have made myself vulnerable to you more than you'll ever know. It's your choice on how you will go about this." Yume now waited for Jacey. And she indeed had made herself very vulnerable to Jacey from revealing so much to him but she kept a calm expression as she watched him now. She decided to check up on the commotion that had occured not too long ago after her conversation with Jacey finished if she saw fit to check up on it. Jacey..., she murmured to herself as she watched him. She, the dark angel as the blind man referred to her, was for the moment vulnerable to this mortal boy. But only for this moment maybe, for she could decide to kill Jacey...

OOC: Jacey, if you can, post as soon as possible for a response to this. I might not be here often after monday and would like to put Yume in a situation in which I don't have to post much for her. Thanks anyways.

OOC:

Seraphim,
I don't know if I'll come up with a decent response in time. I do apologize, but as I sit in the lounge here at 5:08 A.M. I can't help smiling. Posts like the one you just wrote remind me why my character fell in love with yours in the first place.

This last one of yours will be tough to respond to. If I can't reply in time, please know that I am working on it.

Until then, or if neither of us shows up on the boards for a while, take care. I mean that.

-Mark

OOC: All right, I am locking myself in this room until I can force myself to write a half-decent post. Maybe getting Larra back into the bar will fix a little of the writer's cramp going around here...

Same italic rules as my last post...

Though to Larra it seemed like mere minutes, they talked for hours on end. Now that they were sure she understood her surroundings, the five telepaths had endless stories to tell.

It would start with one turning to another and saying in a reminiscent tone, ”Remember when....” and then the other would nod enthusiastically and mention that he or she had even noticed the asteroid upon which said event had happened, while the planet Acari had been whole. Then Larra, dying of curiosity by now and feeling very much like a child at story hour, would bounce from rock to rock as she followed the glowing forms of the telepaths to the spot. As she got better at controlling the world, she would command the asteroid in question to come to her.

Then, once the telepaths involved had finished telling their tale, one of the more spell-gifted spirits, usually Retren, would cast some strange symbols on the rock to allow Larra to see a little of the memories buried just beneath the surface. It totally fascinated her, seeing the home she had never known.

Strangely, ever since their first meeting, Larra had not yet seen all five spirits together. One or two always seemed to be absent as they toured the small dimension, but she wasn’t all that concerned about it.

Now she was floating among the asteroids in a now-gravityless dimension, listening intently as Levvitt, Santora, and Retren told her about the deadly wind Nevell had accidentally-on-purpose released, causing Santora, due to her connection with the wind, to fall ill. Not only had quite a few people died before the wind could be recontained, but Carnexi had been killed while trying to heal in a stricken area, and Santora and Retren had died in the act of sealing the wind away.

It amazed Larra how causally the telepaths talked about death. It was one thing she had believed she partially understood, but was still confused on certain issues. ”Explain this reincarnation thing to me again,” she asked, as Levvitt finished his telling of the aftermath of Nevell’s Death Wind.

”I thought your brother explained it to you,” Santora commented, brushed a bit of her permanently windswept hair away from her face.

”In theory,” Larra admitted, ”but I don’t think he fully understood, and neither do I.”

Levvitt nodded and stared off into the distance, a movement Larra was beginning to recognize as a habit of his, when trying to find the right words. ”Back before everything here was destroyed by that fatal supernova, when one of us died, the part that held the power, the soul or spirit or whatever you want to call it, would be reincarnated into the next child born. What you see of us now is only the spirit part. I’m sure you’ve noticed we all look very similar. We are related in spirit, but not by any physical component. Y-”

”Whoa,” Larra interrupted, ”Back up a line here. If only the spirits look alike, I can understand you and the other five here, but why me? I’m not just spirit, right?”

Santora smiled. ”You have the one thing that we have lost in our reincarnation - our original bodies. Since you have not died yet, you are the flesh-and-blood form of the Seventh Acaran telepath. Once that body is lost, you will never be completely yourself again, because you will actually be sharing the body with the spirit of the one that was originally to be born there. The only trait that will be carried over will be your eyes.”

_”One thing I think you should know,”(i/) Retren began, before Larra could ask another question, ”would be the main difference between Nevell and us. When we gained a new body we would take a backseat, at let that person be themselves. We couldn’t leave them completely, because their spirit would have immediately been changed by our power so that it wouldn’t survive without the telepath spirit. Only if they used their power to evil ends would we actually interfere and take command. Nevell, on the other hand, would immediately shove the other spirit back and become dominant. He’s furious because he can’t control you in that fashion.”

Larra shuddered. ”Are you saying that what happened to me, losing control and such, happened to every single person Nevell was born into? The three nodded, and another thought suddenly struck her. ”Wait! Retren, you said that your hosts couldn’t survive without a telepath spirit, so you were trapped within them. How am I alive then?”

Levvitt grinned. ”That’s obvious. You have a telepath spirit already. Yours. We didn’t come out and meet you face to face before, because we don’t have the strength to do it in any other dimension. This is the first time, since our creation, that we have been wholly ourselves. But we can’t stay here. When you leave we have to rejoin you, because we are no longer as independent as we once were.”

”One more question,“ Larra requested, smiling at the way the three groaned and rolled their eyes. What Levvitt had said, that they hadn’t been able to be individuals for so long, explained quite a lot of why they seemed so cheerful and expressive with each other, kind of like old friends that hadn’t talked for quite some time. ”It’s a short one, I promise. Have you guys ever been members of the opposite sex? Is it really weird?”

Santora burst out laughing. ”Yes,” she admitted, ”And let me tell you, it was....interesting.”

”I prefer it,” a voice proclaimed loudly in Larra’s ear. She shrieked and ducked away from the newcomer, who had teleported right to her side. Desrin, she had been quick to learn, had one twisted sense of humor. ”Rumor has it that, with that combo, you tend to be really good in b- ouch, Santora, that wasn’t nice was it?” Faking a hurt look, he rubbed his stomach where the Third telepath had jabbed her elbow.

”Need I remind you, Desrin, that you are transparent?” Retren drawled, smirking.

”Of course I remember!” Desrin answered cheerily. ”But it’s the thought that counts! By the way, Retren, Carnexi wants you.”

Larra arched an eyebrow as the luminescent form sped away. Out of all the spirits, Retren was away from her the most often. She was beginning to get verryyy curious about what exactly they were doing.

”You’ll find out soon enough,” Levvitt told her. Though he didn’t have Retren’s mindreading talent, his intuition still gave him a pretty good idea of what people were thinking. ”Actually, it would be good practice for you to look around and see if you can find the one thing that’s out of the ordinary.”

Though she was slightly put out at the “needing practice” comment, Larra had learned not to question when the telepaths asked her to do something. Instead, she spread her mind across the world and felt around. Though she didn’t know what she was looking for, it took less than a minute to find the location of Carnexi and Retren. There was something else there too, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

(i)”That way?”_ She questioned, pointing.

The three exchanged glances, then turned and floated off. Ricocheting off asteroids for speed, Larra followed.

OOC: Bah, enough bad writing for one day. She'll be back next post, I promise!!

The energy transfer was nearly instantaneous using the subatomic multi-dimensional rifts that existed everywhere. However, nearly instantaneous wasn’t fast enough, Matt knew the system too well. He drew on the subatomic wormholes themselves to redirect the energy while simultaneously launching his own assault.

Throughout the multiverse miniscule little machines started producing something new. For a short time they stopped reproducing and instead concentrated on building a new tool. The sentient Von Neumann machines built less intelligent slaves with only four programs. The seekers would reproduce, hunt, contain their targets and finally self-destruct. In an immeasurably short period uncountable billions of these things were combing the multiverse and reproducing exponentially along the way. Within a second, the seekers had found thousands of targets to contain, but they had infinity to search, a completely impossible task.

You think you can beat me that easily Death Angel! You’re getting feeble, every trick you can play I can easily counter.

The fool had fallen even deeper into a snare of his own design. To protect himself he’d imprudently built defenders to protect his home nodes. The protectors needed defensive “weapons” that gave off unnatural energy; easily detected by the seekers’ sensors from anywhere in the same universe. Due to this new advantage, the hunt was able to proceed much more hastily and hundreds of billions of the enemy’s sentient machines were contained. The actual defenses were insignificant and if the other being had thought it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out why. The combined network of Matt’s nodes were linked to each of the seekers so that each seeker had a greater intelligence then his opponent’s entire network, but the boy couldn’t afford to show a signal link between his nodes without leaving a blazing beacon that would have given away the location of every single one of his sapient machines.

Matt’s processors divided tasks relentlessly. While some still concentrated on accumulating knowledge and reproducing others studied this new phenomenon. The confiscated nodes had valuable information stored on them but it would take a little while to decode even for Matt’s system. Some basic information was decoded without any effort, however. The other being was designated ‘Kaski San’ no doubt it was a name chosen by his employers before he was launched against Matt. The name meant ‘whose am I?’ in an ancient wanderers tongue. A sign that he was owned but that he didn’t even know his masters. The boy had just been a fool easily duped into fighting a war out of a sense of vengeance or justice. Then he had died as a heroic martyr, driving off the evil one. Pity it was only a few short years before his entire race killed themselves off in a meaningless war. He never got the reverence he truly deserved.

It had been Matt’s fault. Kaski had been right about that much; Matt had acted as a catalyst. He had been too different to fit in and had destabilized the order. He had stopped the endless war that the humans had fought amongst themselves and they had cursed him and united against him. When they had finally managed to ‘destroy’ him they had lost their unity. Only then did the weapons they’d developed along the way prove that were too powerful to handle. The entire galaxy had gone up in a giant nova before collapsing back in on itself.

It was easy for his network to analyze but his mind was more interested in what Kaski San knew.

Where is she! Where is Jennifer! If you survived then she must still be alive as well!

I was prepared Death Angel, but she was not. I knew what was happening and I fought. When you killed her she was confused and wounded; I was armed and prepared to fight again.

The blasted fool was right. He had gone insane because he’d thought the boy had killed her with his misplaced shot. He should have known better. He hadn’t experienced her memories yet. He should have known, but in his anger he had accidentally burned her alive and intentionally killed the boy he was faced with now.

He’d had one glimmer of hope, but it was gone now. The seekers had found uncountable nodes belonging to Kaski, but none from anyone else.

Inside the Rock a power flux flashed through the mainframe. It traveled at the speed of light through the wiring. It wasn’t enough energy to cause an overload, but that wasn’t the purpose. The station was lined with hatches that the original builders had used to depressurize sections that were rioting. The energy had been shifted from its previous destinations throughout the hatch to blow out a single bar.

Matt hadn’t anticipated this brilliant attack. The boy had outsmarted him by placing one node cautiously inside the station. In hindsight, it was obvious that someone targeting Yume would have used this technique but not all the processing power in the multiverse could have predicted it. Ingenuity had once again crushed intelligence, but perhaps immeasurable power could conquer ingenuity. Matt could not redirect the energy along the pathways as he had the more forceful original attack. The delicate station would have been burned to a crisp by the energy he’d have to redirect.

It didn’t matter. The other being must have forgotten that energy and mass were interchangeable. Either that or in desperation had hoped Matt wouldn’t figure out such a simple counter. Matt quickly calculated how much energy he would need, he directed it around the opening hatches and jammed them before finally filling the small breaches they had left.

A small rush of air blew through the bar and then stopped as suddenly as it had started.

OOC: Forgive me for my lack of creativity, my inability to advance the plot and my blatant theft of other peoples ideas.

OOC: Well, finally gotten around to writing a post. Not much development, though, just felt like it. BTW, the Karee have two languages, the basic language for daily use and the Old Language, which can only be found in daily use in some phrases and metaphors. It is, however, used for other things, which I won't go into further here.

The young man opened his eyes. He found himself standing on top of a hill, in the middle of a barren landscape. Looking around, his confusement grew. Where was he?
Yes the explosion. The Hiveship had destroyed his ship. But then he was supposed to be dead. Was he dead? If so, why was he here in this desert?
The young man shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. It was cold. Looking down at himself, he grinned. No wonder why he was freezing, his clothes had turned into rags, torn apart and burned.
Looking up into the cloudless sky, he noticed the bright sun hovering above him. It wasn't emitting warmth, however, but cold.

The young man wandered through the desert, utterly confused. If he was dead, he was supposed to be in the world of Terana, as his race called the afterworld. But the dreamdancers had described Terana as a lush, beautiful paradise, in other words, the exact opposite of this. The world he was in now was cold, deserted and everything was in shades of grey, like on some ancient photograph. When Terana was the paradise, then this was hell. But his religion didn't say anything about a hell of any type.

After hours, the young man reached a lake. He was thirsty, so he kneeled down in order to drink, but stopped himself. That was no water, it was something else. The surface was far too reflective, kind of like liquid metal. Was that quicksilver?
He looked at his reflection. He had short, black hair, amber eyes and a cinamon-colored skin with darker stripes in the face. But his face was undamaged, although he had died in the vacuum of space. Not even the wound from the flying metal splinter was there.

Now what? Assuming I'm dead, why am I here in this desert? Even if there is a hell, I thought only bad people would go there. I wouldn't call myself bad or a sinner, I never acted against the Scripts, neither those of the Karee, nor those of the Ka-nuth. So why am I here?

Again hours had passed and the young man walked through a valley with mighty statues standing everywhere. They were made of crackled stone, some missing parts, other fallen off their sockets, half burried in the sand. Sometimes it seemed as if their eyes were following him, but that was nonsense. They were only stone statues after all.
All of a sudden, the sand under his feet started to move, causing him to jump back. Something was rising from below, the sand forming a heap until a terrible creature emerged.
It had a snake-like body with two arms and clawed hands. Its head was snake-like as well, with two glowing yellow eyes and a maw full of long, sharp fangs.
The young man jumped back in terror. He was unarmed and had no idea how to fight this creature. But the expected attack never came.
“Who are you that you dare walking amongst the Ancient?” the creature snarled at him.
“I had no idea it is forbidden. I appologize if I insulted anyone, but I awoke in this world without knowing anything about it.”
“Ah, another soul at the wrong place. What is your name?”
“I am called Ta-vora.”
“How comes a young man like you receives such a name? It is more suited for the old and wise.”
“I was given that name by the Ka-nuth council but I don't know why. Please, can you tell me where I am?”
“Yes, this is the Netherworld, the world of the dead.”
“But it's not where I'm supposed to be. I'm born a Karee.”
“Ah, yes. There are several afterworlds, many are alike, some the same, but they are still more than one. And sometimes it happens that a soul enters the wrong one. This is a very rare occassion, but it had happened before.”
“So how can I get out of here?”
The snake-like creature laughed in a hissing manner.
“This question I can not answer you. I guess you'll have to find a way for yourself. I can only give you an advice: not many inhabitants of this world are as friendly as I am. If I were you, I'd be careful who to trust. There are even demons here, and many of them at that. Remember that evil comes in many forms, most of the time unrecognized until it is too late. Good luck!”
With that the creature dove back into the sand. The young man stood there for some time until he walked on. What was this strange humming sound?

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

Ta-vora awoke from the sound of his alarm. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to recall his dream. He noticed that the temperature in his quarters had dropped, so he got up, checking the climatic controls. Indeed there was an error, that had lowered the temperature to 7°C.
No wonder why I was freezing in my dream. But it was strange anyway. I can't recall having ever been to that world, but it's like a deja-vu. The Netherworld? Didn't Page say something about that? And why did I look like that? That's what I looked like before ah, nonsense! It was just a nightmare!
“Lankre ara'nivera ” Ta-vora mumbled a phrase in the Old Language, “Just a nightmare ”

OOC: Man, this place has truly gotten slow. And Jacey.. where are you?! lol XD I'm waiting.

OOC: Let's get this place running again...

Demon stopped short. Frantically turning circles around the Kamikaze was not helping him find Larra. Still panicked, he took off into the rest of the station, looking for anyone at all he knew that could help.

====================

Larra landed smoothly on the asteroid, not even the least bit winded from her little jaunt across the dimension. She glanced around, seeing only total darkness. Using her eyes was beginning to seem like more of a familiar gesture than a necessary one. Retren had cast a spell that would make he and the other telepaths invisible to her, as long as she didn’t purposely search them out. That included their luminescent auras. Though she would never have admitted it, Larra was beginning to get awfully confused. Apparently she was supposed to find something. What it was, and how she was to go about doing it was about as clear as mud.

She shoved off the rock, knowing instinctively what angle she had to leap at in order to connect with the next one. Zero gravity was fun, and Larra found herself thinking about how much fun Demon would have here, provided she could make him a light.

Demon!

Startled, Larra stopped after bouncing off only two asteroids. The shapeshifter must be beside himself with panic, especially after she had disappeared like that. Worse, she really wasn’t sure how long she had been gone. Shaking her head, Larra kicked a protruding rock, for lack of anything better to do.

The rock didn’t even budge. Annoyed now, Larra kicked it even harder. The entire asteroid shuddered, and a metallic ring filled the air, but the rock still didn’t move. Her curiosity invoked, Larra crouched down and reached out to touch the offensive thing.

Instead of some rock, her hand closed around something that was more familiar to her than anything else she’d found since arriving in her home dimension. Larra felt her skin crawl a little, and she jerked her hand away from the hilt of one of her swords. Nevell had cursed them, and she didn’t want to think about what consequence would come from touching one.

Before she could go back on what she wanted and think about it anyway, a blinding light flashed in her face as Desrin teleported in front of her. “Almanta,” Larra hissed, covering her eyes with one arm. ”Too bright!”

”No, as dim as ever,” Desrin corrected, undeterred by the nasty curse word she had thrown at him. By now, he was quite used to it. ”You’re just not adjusted to the light yet.”

Larra muttered something rude under her breath as she waited for her eyes to adjust. By the time she could safely remover her arm, the other telepaths had joined Desrin.

”Well, I’d say I found it,” she stated, glancing over at the surface of the asteroid. The hilts of both her swords stuck out, with the blades buried deep in the rock. ”Care to explain?”

”This piece of land was once sacred ground.” Levvitt explained. ”We know how lost you are without these swords, so we decided to ‘fix’ them.”

Larra was about to protest that there was no way she’d be lost without anything, but Retren interrupted her. ”We took out all of what Nevell did, except that nice ‘Revenge of Shards’ curse, I have to give him credit, that was well done. We added quite a bit, but I think you should figure that out yourself...”

Unsure of what ‘Revenge of Shards’ was, Larra gave Carnexi a funny sideways look. The one that stopped Ta-vora from using his sword to break yours she mouthed in answer, grinning. Larra smiled back. By this point everyone was staring at her and Retren was finished talking, so she assumed that they wanted her to get her swords.

Closing her hand around the hilt of one sword, Larra yanked it out of the rock. She was greeted with a blinding flash of light as the mirror-like blade took in the light from the telepaths and reflected it outwards across the dimension. At first glance, it looked no different, but as she stared deeper, Larra could see symbols dancing just below the polished metal. They moved with no real pattern, arranging, rearranging, but never stopping.

Larra held the sword closer to her face, frowning. The symbols seemed Acaran to her, but they held no meaning. She couldn’t read them. Wordlessly, she walked over and drew the other sword from the rock. It had been the twin of the other in every way, and now held the strange symbols as well.

”Nice,” she admitted, ”But what are these symbols?”

Desrin rolled his eyes in his usual joking matter. ”Our spells, of course,” he stated.

”You can’t read them,” Levvitt added, ”Because they are written in the oldest form of the Acaran language. None but Carnexi and I remember the time of its use.”

”Try channeling your power through them later,” Retren hinted.

Larra spun the swords around and did a few practice maneuvers, finding them as light as ever. As she did so, the five backed up to lower the possibility of being hit by one of the spinning blades. Larra found that a little strange, seeing as a physical weapon such as a sword shouldn’t hart a spirit, but she chose not to comment.

”Do they seem different, other than the fact that you can see the runes?” Santora asked, a little excitedly.

”Not at all,” Larra admitted reluctantly. ”Should they?”

Carnexi smiled. ”No, that means we did it right. You should be the only one who can see the spells. Your opponents won’t know anything’s different until it’s too late. But shouldn’t you get back to your friends now?”

Larra nodded, remembering Demon for the second time. The telepath spirits pulsed once, then floated forward, merging with her once again. Their presences in her mind now seemed comforting and familiar. But one was missing.

Carnexi alone remained out in the dimension. ”So, Volicia, are we forgiven?” she asked.

”Forgiven?” Larra was confused. ”For what?”

”I don’t know, but you locked us out of your mind before coming here.”

”Of course,” she answered, relieved that she understood what this was about. ”I was afraid of Nevell, not mad at you.”

Looking relieved, she Second Telepath hovered towards the Seventh, once again entering her mind. Alone now, Larra stared around at the darkness. She didn’t have to see at all to know exactly what was around her. Instead of opening a portal with her hand, she did as Retren had suggested and let her power flow through her right hand sword. Extending the blade, she used the tip to slide aside the dimensional barrier.

The portal was a bit sloppier than usual, Larra was impressed that it had even worked. Smiling, she stepped through.

The light of the docking bay was alarmingly bright, glowing reddish through her closed eyelids. Larra dropped a short distance before landing smoothly on top of the Kamikaze. After a minute or two she opened her eyes and glanced around the near empty docking bay.

After closing her portal and putting her swords in her ship, the Seventh Telepath headed off in search of Demon, completely oblivious to any of the other goings-on at the Rock.

Larra was back.

OOC: Ugghh, bad, but at least I'm back!!

OOC: Nothing really happening, at least not in the storyline.

Curious if there have been any progresses in translating the crystal chip he found aboard the Tova Ayemah, Ta-vora is on his way to the computer lab, where the translation is taking place with the help of the Orion's main computer.
Main corridor, midship, section three-alpha, room 2.
Upon walking through the door, the Ka-nuth stops dead in his tracks. The crewman at the station turns around, looking at him.
“Kre'Merah?”
Astrometrical lab? How did I end up here? Eryss, I forgot this is a new ship!
“Is anything wrong, Kre?” the crewman asked, looking concerned.
“No, just fine. I was deep in thoughts and entered the wrong door.”
“Ah, happens to me, too.”
Ta-vora exits the lab and leans back against a wall outside.
What was that? I never got lost aboard this ship before I thought I was back aboard the Anima Nivera, but that was a year and a half ago.
He looks down at his hands. They're trembling.
And my hands never trembled before as well. Okay, now I'm most definitively in trouble.
Concentrating on the present, he makes his way to the sickbay.
Luckily there's only one physican on duty at the moment.
“You look distressed, Kre.” he says upon spotting Ta-vora, “Anything I can help you with?”
“I need a checkup, now.”
“What's the matter?”
“I keep having nightmares.”
“Well, it can happen sometimes. Emotional stress, perhaps, but I'm no psychatrist.”
“I am unable to stay focussed, just a few minutes ago I headed to the wrong area because I thought I was back aboard my old ship. And my hands are trembling. Does that mean anything to you?”
“This sounds like but Kre, you're far too old for that.”
“Apparently not. Check me, please.”
The physican nods, closes his eyes and extends his awareness. He knew the technique of mental observation, allowing him to check a patient's mental and physical condition without any physical contact. Ta-vora feels the probing mental “touch”, allowing it.
A few seconds later, the physican opens his eyes again.
“It is indeed the threshold syndrome, Kre.”
“I feared that.”
“Very interesting, it usually shows up with juveniles after their rebirth, if they received psionic abilities.”
“I know, but as you may remember, I was a hunter and thus I didn't have any psionic abilities. Well, rudimentary ones perhaps, but not strong enough to cause the threshold syndrome. But then after the Anima Nivera was destroyed, this changed. Actually I'm surprised that it didn't occur later.”
“That may be because you can't do anything but wait at the moment, your mind is settling down and thus no longer creates up enough mental energy to block the syndrome out. But what you experienced was only a start, it may very well become worse. I suggest that we should start the treatment very soon.”
“We don't have enough people aboard for that. You and the other physican are the only persons capable of this, and I can't ask of you to treat me. It would drain all your energies and if there were someone who really needs attention, you would not be available.”
“But the threshold syndrome could inflict irreparable damage to your mind. It could cause you to go mad or even die.”
“I'll have to deal with that. The treatment would require months and we don't have months.”
“I will not accept any responsibilities for this. Kre, please, you must promise me to return immediately if it becomes worse.”
“Promise.”
After leaving the sickbay, Ta-vora heads to the regeneration chamber. Perhaps some meditation would help him to get his mind back under control.

OOC: Okay, I suck everyone I’m sorry, but this post was going nowhere quick, it’s been in the making for about a week, partially because I’ve been uninspired. Well here it is.
-------------
"You think?" The leader said.
Page chuckled slightly under his breath. He took off his black sunglasses and crushed them in his hand. He looked to all the figures in purple cloaks and closed his eyes.
"Try me," he said grinning sheepishly.
The would be assailants dropped their cloaks and advanced slowly.
"Follow my lead," the leader said through her thin lips.
Page stood there motionless, his sword arm limp. Little did his accoster's know that Page didnt need his eyes to see.
A knife sailed through the air towards Page's face, and much to its owner's surprise, it was deflected, by a quick motion of her prey's sword. She was so taken aback that she completely stopped the attack pattern she had thought up.
"Alura?" The larger man in the tan tunic asked. "Why did you stop."
"Sorry," She replied quietly.
The group scattered and chose to attack Page from all sides.
Alura took the rear, and reached for her studded whip. She had taken blasters from countless renegades, and even some swords, but something told her this one would be a thousand times harder to take than any of the others she had ever gotten.
And then came the green flash.
Out of nowhere Page was holding a seccond sword. Its emerald hilt glowed a deep green, and its black blade shone eerily.
The Bladesman, came in on the front. His swords met Page's and in a bizzare twist of reality Page was gone. Alura's whip snatched away Jaques' broadsword. And the frail eccentric man was knocked forward, by a well placed kick. Page cart wheeled over the large mans shoulder and kicked his legs out from under him. The woman with the tonfas attempted to hit Page in mid air but soon found her weapons on the floor and her shirt pinned to the wall by one of Alura’s knives.
Page landed lightly and dropped his shoulder slightly so the knife aimed for his right arm ricocheted off his large metal shoulder guard. Alura sent out her whip, and it wrapped around Page’s sword.
“Why wont you die?!”
Page sighed and opened his eyes.
“I didn’t know I had a reason too.”
“What?!” Alura fumed, her upper lip curling, “you’re a monster, you killed hundreds of people when you destroyed that station. And yet you live on unfazed, that’s why you must die.”
And then it all became crystal clear. He was the reason for this whole raid. And this woman was right, he could feel her pain in the air and her desperation.
“I cant,” Page said softly.
“WHY NOT!” She screamed tugging on her whip, ready to throw another knife.
Page opened his eyes wide his pupils white and flared his weaves, Alura went stiff and Page ripped her whip out of her hands. He seemed to fade out of existence in wisps of black smoke, only to reappear inches from her face. Page grabbed her arms and pinned her to a wall.
“I’m not here because I want to be. As you can see I’m not Human.”
The Large man wearing black knuckles lunged, Page let go of Alura with one hand and the air around him exploded with electricity, a bolt of Black lightning shot from the hand of the vellosian and struck home on the Zacha bounty hunter’s chest.
Before Alura could stick the last knife she had in Page’s heart he grabbed her hand, and pinned it to the wall.
“I’m sorry.”
Page leaned back and head butted Alura, knocking her unconscious.
The vellosian extended his arms and his swords flew into his hand. He began to walk away from the Zachit, and disappeared around the corner.

OOC: Bleeeeeeeeech. I decided I was going to write something here, and tie up all the crap my chracters kind of had going. Then I realized I didn't really have much of anything going. Hmm.

OOC: Ah, now it annoys me. It's much harder to write in the present than the past. So I switch to past tense.

Ta-vora was restless. He wandered around in his quarters. He had tried to meditate earlier but couldn't force himself to calm down. A bad sign, especially for him. So he considered his options.
In this state, I'm of no help for anyone. But if I let them treat me, I'm of no use either. What am I to do now?
He knew that he was suffering from the threshold syndrome. His neural net was unable to accumulate the psionic energies from his mind and thus these energies dammed up. The results were nightmares, trembling hands, restlessness, loss of orientation, loss of the ability to focuss and sometimes madness or even death.
The threshold syndrome somethimes happened when a young Karee had his or her rebirth and received psionic abilities. Properly treated this was no problem, but he couldn't afford that at the moment.
I should be able to overcome this, if only I could find a way to free the dammed up energy. I need away to draw enough energy from my body. That won't cure me, but it'll give me time. But how to do this without causing damage? The only way to do this is to drain the energy myself.
With that he sat down at the floor, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Usually when he tried things like this, he would use the regeneration chamber. But in this case, it would cause the energy to be restored almost immediately, something he couldn't use by now.
Concentrating even more, Ta-vora tried to not use the energies produced in his mind, but those that have dammed up within his neural net. He found them and formed a small opening in the dam, large enough to let the required energy through, but too small to cause his neural net to overflow.
Somewhere in the station, a bright flash of light appeared, flickering in all colors of the rainbow. Slowly it fades, leaving Ta-vora in its place. Mental projection was what drained most of his energy. But he'd have to be like this for a while for it to work. He just hoped his slightly instable state wouldn't affect his abilities.
Another flash of light and the Ka-nuth disappeared
and reappeared at a different place, just in time to watch the end of Page's fight with the Zachit.
Leaning against a wall, he watched the assailants recover.
“I wouldn't waste my time trying to kill him.” he eventually said, “His power exceeds anything you encountered so far. Although that probably doesn't mean anything anyway.”
“You!” one of the Zachit growled, “Kill him!”
One of them threw a knive at him, but it flew right through his body.
“Another waste of time, you can't destroy what isn't there. Besides, I don't remember having any argument with you. We have never met before, so why do you want to kill me?”
“You are with him!”
“So what? I met him after he destroyed that station. The only people I killed in this universe so far were Voinians and Renegades. So you have no reason to kill me.”
“Do not try to fool us! Why don't you show your real face instead of that holograph, so we can discuss our matters.”
“I do no try to fool you. I know what it feels like to loose people you love and care for. But as I said, I have no argument with you and thus there's no reason for us to fight each other. I do only attack if I'm attacked first.”
With that he disappears in a blinding flash of colorful light.

Some time later, a Renegade patrol pilot notices a strange flash of light on the surface of The Rock. Upon flying closer for inspection, he notices someone lying in a crater, waving at him. He turns his ship around and afterburns away.
“I'll never drink a single drop of that stuff again, I swear!”
I really could get used to this. Ta-vora thinks, chuckling slightly, There you see how inhibiting a physical body can be. How much people can actually enjoy the sight of stars without a filtering layer of glass or a forcefield in the way?

(EDIT)Harumpf, why does this stupid thing not show the new lines I used? Apparently it ignores more than one blanks in a row. Stupid!!!(/EDIT)

This post has been edited by Ta-vora : 16 October 2004 - 02:36 PM

“What do you think?”

“Definitely more caramel near the top part.”

Demon stared critically at his “art”, debating whether or not more caramel pudding was needed on his graffiti. As a gesture of thought, he put his paw on his chin, unknowingly smearing plenty of vanilla all over his lower jaw.

Giggling to herself, Larra leaned back in her chair, inspecting the pudding art from a distance. With the bar being so empty, Demon had decided to pull up an old hobby. The shapeshifter muttered to himself a little, then smeared more of the light brown muck near the top and mixed it around with the other colors.

“Fini!” He announced, putting on a terrible French accent. “Je have finishaid mon portrait!”

Larra burst into laughter, dropping her head on the table.

“I need a hat,” the wolf decided, grinning. “One of those weird sideways ones. That all the famous painters wear.”

“We’ll have to find one next time we leave the Rock,” Larra commented, her voice warping as she tried to hold back a yawn. “I doubt we’d find one here.”

Demon shook his head and took on a pitiful tone. “No class in this place. So starved of culture...”

Larra could only shake her head and smile. She had already told her friend about her trip ‘home’, and now was just beginning to realize how tired she really was. While Demon ranted nuttily about the Rock’s cultural deprivations, Larra teleported one of her swords to her hand and placed it onto the table. Putting her hands on the table and resting her chin on top of them, she stared at the sword through half-closed eyes until the moving symbols started to become visible. She didn’t plan on falling asleep, but eventually, it just...happened.

Demon licked pudding off his paw and glanced over at his sleeping friend with a fair degree of surprise. Larra never relaxed her guard like that when others were around. Promising himself to be a little serious and keep an eye on her, the shapeshifter grabbed his bowl of chocolate pudding and soup ladle. Loading his “catapult”, Demon waited for a target.

OOC: <_<

Page yawned and stepped through the doors of the bar. his hands lay atop the burlap roll on his shoulders, and he swaggered in lazily. The cigarette in his mouth just hung from his lower lip, half lit and smoking.
He had grabbed another pair of sunglasses from his ship, and they lay low on his nose, a half inch from the tip.
And then it hit him.
SPLAT!
Page blinked a few times to clear eye holes in the mask of chocolate pudding he now wore.
"Very ######in' funny.." Page said as he took a seat next to the sleeping Larra.
"Actually it is," Demon said inbetween chuckles.
Page wiped his face off on the tablecloth, and dropped the burlap roll.
"So what's up?"

"I believe the word you are searching for is 'beret',"

An extremely tall man, wearing small black rectangular glasses stepped out of the shadows. Clad in grey work clothing, his hands were grubby with black mechanical grease. The nametag on his work shirt read simply, "Green." It didn't specify if it was his first or last name.

"If any of you have been wondering where Dech and Nicol went, well... They've been..." The man paused, as if searching for words. "Decommissioned." He smiled wryly. "It seems the telepathy module I installed in Nicol caused some... erratic behavior. She went haywire and destroyed everything in the Longbow 's docking bay... Including Dech, my first creation."

The man hopped over the bar and drew a Guinness. Pouring a shot of scotch in a shot glass, he then dropped it in the tankard, lit the drink on fire, and chugged the lot, spitting the shot glass on the floor and slamming the hull-metal tankard on the bartop. "BLOODY ****ING HELL!"

Returning to his dry, detached air of the previous few paragraphs, he hopped back over the bar. "I'm sad to say I won't be having much more influence here for a while. I must create something worthy of what little talent I have. I'm sure my creation will introduce him or herself when the time is right."

Pulling an ancient, beaten and dirty Red Sox hat out of his pocket, he slipped it securely over his head. "Off to tinker, I've got work to do." He attempted to stroll purposefully out the door, but only succeeded in tripping down the three stairs, barely catching his balance at the last second, and narrowly avoiding a faceful of space pirate stomach.

OOC: All I have to say is this: GO BOSTON! Only three more games, you can do it!

OOC2: Inspiration struck. Dayum. I should watch baseball more. Anyway, I'll sleep on it and post it in the morning if I still like it.

This post has been edited by TheGreenFile : 18 October 2004 - 01:39 AM

Suddenly there was a bright, colourful flash when Ta-vora appeared in the bar next to Page. The Vell-os jerked slightly and there was another SPLAT.
“What the ###### you think you're doing?” he called when Demon again hit him with pudding.
“Sorry, actually wanted to hit him.”
Ta-vora grinned and sat down.
“Good luck with that. But you won't hit me unless I want it.”
“Didn't know you can teleport.” Page said.
“I can't. This is just a mental projection. I need to burn off some dammed up energy.”
“Must be a good illusion, I didn't notice the difference.”
“Yes, if a Ka-nuth knows his job, not even a Vell-os like you can penetrate the illusion.” he looked at the sleeping Larra, “What's wrong with her?”
“Dunno, she seems tired.”
“Must have been a long trip.”
“Trip?”
“One of my science officers spotted some interdimensional activity. I assume it was her. Don't waste your time, Demon.”
Sheepishly, the shapeshifter lowered his paw and licked the pudding off it.
“As I already told those Zachit, you can not hit what is not there. Hm I wonder ”
“What?” Page asked.
“Nevermind.”

OOC: Ah, crappy. But I'm angry. Online service promised DSL and now they say it is not available in the area. After four weeks. Kinda gets reflected in my writing style. :mad:

OOC: Wow, everyone seems to be either depressed or mad these days. I shouldn't be complaining, though, since I'm both today.:( Sorry I didn't really move the story ahead any...

Cackling maniacally, Demon used a paw to pull back his soup ladle, and neatly shot the retreating stranger in the back of the head as he regained his balance.

“You’re not too bad with that thing,” Ta-vora noted, glancing at the rather primitive catapult.

The shapeshifter sunk into an exaggerated bow. “Why thank you. I’m also a brilliant artist, and modest, too.” Page snickered. “You like my painting?” Demon continued, pretending not to notice. With a sweep of his paw, he gestured to the pudding art on the wall.

“Inspiring,” Page commented sarcastically.

Ta-vora chuckled. “You should try to sell it to some pirate.”

“I’d never get it off the wall,” Demon said, flicking his tail back and forth. “Besides, I’m much rather decorate your ship with my artistic talents.”

“Would you like to spend time in another of those matrix traps?” the Ka-nuth asked innocently. The shapeshifter cringed, but decided to fling pudding at a group that had just entered the bar instead of answer. There were a few muffled yells and misplaced blaster shots in reply. One wayward blast struck something cylindrical right above Demon.

The shapeshifter squealed as the pipe broke in two, pouring water down onto his head. Becoming a cat, he jumped right through Ta-vora’s projection and landed on the table, hissing and shaking the water off.

Larra muttered something in her sleep as a few water droplets struck her face, but she didn’t wake.

Page leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the table. “I’d watch your step, if I were you. What’s Larra’s sword doing on the table, anyway?”

Whining a little, Demon sidestepped the sharp blade he had nearly landed on, and shoved it over to where it wouldn’t bother him. “I dunno. She was looking at it when she fell asleep.”

In a rare moment of seriousness, he sat in the middle of the table. “So how are you guys? Long time no talk, you know?”

Edit2: I really should reread my posts more often....

This post has been edited by Synesthesia : 30 October 2004 - 04:13 PM

OOC: I still like. I should've come up with a new character rather than drag the old one into this bar. Oh well... Hindsight is 20/20 and all that. So anyway, I've spent two days just coming up with the character, then finding somewhere to put her in the story. I think I succeeded. Oh, and just FYI: She's a deadcell, but doesn't know it. She's never encountered telepathy before.

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

Kenady Greene walked lightly down the Rock's corridor. Her tread was always light, it came from being highly trained in nearly every known martial art. That's what happens when your genes are from the most well-known stuntman in the galaxy and the best detective in UE space. Too bad she couldn't tell anyone, as if people don't expect celebrities like Jack Knievel VI to have illegitimate children once in a while. Hell, he probably had hundreds, if his reputation as a ladies' man was anything to go by.

Her mother had been an anomaly in Jack's endless line of women. Known as "The Saint" to her Saalian Police Dept. brethren, she was the ace detective on the force. Under deep cover on a mission investigating the smuggling of Saalian Brandy by a certain stuntman, she'd abandoned her career, wooed by his promises. She had turned, helping him escape the SPD's clutches once again, only to have Jack drop her off at the next gig location with a small duffel full of clothing and a few thousand credits. And unknown to former Sergeant Sara Greene, "The Saint", a daughter on the way.

Living in semi-exile, the mother and daughter became inseparable as Kenady grew up. Knowing that there's no money in regular police work, Sara trained her daughter in the ways of the bounty hunter. Stealth, smooth talking, and seduction, all to capture unwitting prey. Finally, they agreed that Kenady was ready to seek her fortune in the galaxy. The Saint would live again.

Now where was that damnable bar? It had an odd name... or did it even have a name? Yes, that was it... no name. The No Name Bar. Her Zachit employer wanted some people taken care of in case his Special Forces team failed. While Kenady rather resented being a backup plan, it was easy money.

Narrowly dodging a flying lump of pudding, she took a seat in the corner nearest the door, both to facilitate watching the door, and to be near it in case a hasty exit was needed.

This post has been edited by TheGreenFile : 19 October 2004 - 02:31 AM

Oh, God... there's so much to read before I can come back... Anyway, I was in the neighborhood and Just wanted to say hi guys.

Be well,
Mark

OOC: Just a little info, Ta-vora was born a Karee but now he's a Ka-nuth. Although he's neither a traitor nor did he reject his origin, he can no longer be called a Karee. And due to his appearance, noone would recognize him as Karee anymore anyway.