Yume glanced over at the vellosian who had talked to her not too long ago before she looked over to the shapeshifter and the female who had been knocked down by the men that looked exactly alike.

Arms crossed over her chest, Yume wasn't all that fazed nor interested in the fight until that dark almost aura started to swirl around the vellosian. This somewhat caught her attention as she peered through locks of raven black hair is it fell in front of her face.

Her hands moved to either side of the seat and gripped there as she started to pay more attention to the scene before her. It seemed all but certain there was going to be a fight. But she was interested what the vellosian could do since he had said before that he might help her to exact her revenge upon the creatures that were the result of her suffering.

For a moment, her anger had flared but she would bury it just as quickly as she watched the people and wondered what the outcome would be. She saw no real need to get involved but then again she might not even need to since something about the vellosian told her that he might be able to take care of it with no problem.

So with that in mind, she just watched the scene before her as she waited to see what would happen next.

While all of this was going on, Squiggy was unfolding the laptop and staring at the screen.
Casting a wary look at the crowd of Nirttefs gathering around Page, the Hacker slinked his way over to Squiggy and whispered in his ear, "I don't think now's the time to be doing that... but if you're going to use it, you might want me to log in first for you..."
Squiggy laughed as he inserted his chip into the computer. "Ah, don't worry." He patted the Hacker on the head. "Look here!"

Though the rest of the screen was still completely black, a single word with a blank box next to it had appeared on the screen.

PASSWORD:_______________

The Hacker recognized it. "Hey, what are you doing?!"
Squiggy winked at the Hacker, typed in an access code, then leaned back just as a barstool flew over his head. Ignoring the commotion at the bar's center, Squiggy laughed openly when the computer chimed: Access granted. Welcome, Lieutenant James Libby Brandt.

Not entirely understanding what was going on, the Hacker turned back to watch the others as Squiggy began typing furiously on the keyboard.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.
- Hal

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-01-2004).)

OOC: Well, I’m back! It might take awhile to get back into the feel of writing... Hamster, I think I need to read the book the green gas balls come from - it sounds hilarious.

What I’m starting will be mostly understood only after it’s over...

Larra sat up, but stayed where she was even though the Nirttefs had been blown off her. Out the corner of her eye she noticed Demon run across the room and hide under a table. Other people were behind her as well. Page stood in the door with Ta-vora nearby; she could just see them through the crowd of black forms. Normally a nasty sneak attack would have been her plan of action, but not at the moment. All the alertness and knowledge of her surroundings suddenly faded. She did not want to fight.

Long ago, Larra had learned that in order to remain in control, she had to fight without emotion. With Lance on the Rock - yes, she was sure now that he was here - Larra wasn’t able to do that. Fury at even the thought of his presence momentarily blinded her, and she struggled to force it away.

Yet, she couldn’t leave her friends to fight them alone, could she? As long as Lance refrains from showing his face, surely she would be able to keep her anger in check?

Shaking slightly, Larra threw the ideas from her mind. She couldn’t trust even her own logic in an unstable time like this. But really, who could she trust, if not herself? Demon, she trusted him, but she knew full well that there was no way he could help her. Page could, probably, maybe, but she didn’t think she trusted him enough. It came as a surprise that she actually felt she was beginning to rely on him. The others were out of the question.

Unfortunately, the one person who held both requirements - trust and ability - was beyond her capability to reach at the moment. Larra was on her own. She shivered, no longer paying the Nirttefs any attention. Pure fury rose again.

Look what Lance was doing to her, just by being nearby. She was strong enough to kill him easily, and yet he held power over her by playing on her one fear. She’d show him, it would be so easy to lose the fear.

NO!!

Once again, Larra had to mentally give her head a shake. She was losing control again. The fear was the only thing keeping her safe. Her, and those around her as well.

Damn it! the words sounded bitter in her head. Why am I stuck with you telepaths anyway? For a moment, Larra mentally held her breath, attempting regain a sense of calm. It slid away as one word slipped into her mind of it’s own volition, coming from inside, not outside.

Fate.

Her question had been answered. Larra bit her lip and tried to stop shaking. It was worse than she thought. Much worse.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

Suddenly a high-pitched cry broke the tension in the bar.

" ** YATTA!!!** "

Every head in the bar swung to face the purple-clothed man in the corner. Squiggy whooped loudly again with both his arms raised over his head in triumph.

The swarm of Nirttefs turned their bandaged heads in unison to peer curiously at Squiggy.

Squiggy looked back at them with an idiotic stare, smiled brightly, cleared his throat, pointed his finger at the computer, then announced, "It works!"

The Hacker rolled his eyes.

Yume blinked.

Dech grinned.

Page clenched the hilt of Antaries.

Demon poked his head out from under the table.

Ta-vora took a single step forward from the doorway.

Larra shivered.

The distracted pack of Nirttefs collectively hissed at Squiggy, then turned back to Page.

Page considered his next move.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.
- Hal

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-03-2004).)

Quote

Originally posted by JaceySquires:
**snip
**

OOC: G'mornin' * yawns* Just one thing you might know and one I don't think you could have known: Larra is determined not to attack, so she won't for now, and Demon won't attack at all because he is terrified of the Nirttefs.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

A lone man sat in a corner of Landing Pad 841, hidden by the cloak that draped over him. As he waited for Jacey to arrive, he silently cleaned blood off (url="http://"http://hindunet.org/saraswati/katar1.jpg")the strange blade(/url) he held in his hand.

OOC: Yes, please follow the link. These are examples of one of the types of blades Jacey's dark friend uses. The weapons shown are called katars.

(This message has been edited by JaceySquires (edited 08-02-2004).)

Weird things in case you haven't seen Ta-vora's Crescent Sword yet, go (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/starlight_dev/.Pictures/crescent_sword.jpg")here(/url).
It can vibrate so it cuts through even the hardest armor.

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

(This message has been edited by Ta-vora (edited 08-02-2004).)

The Nirttefs, having finished sizing up Page, began to slowly walk towards him. They formed a circle, walking in step, hands at their sides, ever so slowly, towards the lone figure. Page exhaled a plume of smoke, and sighed slightly, arcing an eyebrow.

"So you guys gonna attack me, or what?"

The Nirttefs stopped. Page stood still, his sword resting on his shoulders. One of the Nirttefs muttered a quick phrase, and a wall of flame shot up, just outside of the circle of cloaked figures. Page didn't even twitch.

One Nirttef, the one standing directly in front of Page, stepped forward, once. The wall of flame continued to flare about them.

"Page, you should know by now that I did not come for you simply because of a mercenary assignment. I need your help." Spoke the Nirttef, in a much deeper voice than before.

"What the f*** are you talking about?"

The Nirttef's hand darted up to its black eye coverings, and removed them, all in one lighting motion. Beams of pure light shot forth from the eye holes in the Nirttef's bandaging, and stared directly into Page's eyes. Page found himself temporarily paralyzed, unable to move, or speak, or cast weaves of any kind.

"Long ago, I was imprisoned in my sword, in a pillar, shortly before the fall of AlphaOmega. I have sat there since, watched as the Hunters were repelled, watched as Tesshe made her move, as the Rasputins began their invasion, watched as Jasan cut you down, watched as even now, Kergoth's release is imminent."

Page stared into the white light, listening. It was all he could do, at the moment.

"You and I share more than you know. Both of us have been cast into dimensions we have no desire to stay in, at least, I assume that is the case on your part. Both of us have been defeated by Jasan, now the sole remaining Kergothian swordbearer. And both of us, I hope, are set against the return of the mighty Warlord."

Page's neck began to cramp slightly. This was getting boring fast.

"All I ask of you is to follow my servants to the Netherworld, where you, a mortal soul, could release me from my bonds, and allow me to prepare against the coming onslaught alongside the rest. Not as a villain this time, but as an ally. When I was struck down, the power of my sword lost hold of me, and my servitude to Kergoth was broken. I beseech you, help me in this endeavor, for it is the smallest power that may tip the balance in the coming war."

Page felt a tingling wash through his body, as the Nirttef replaced the obsidian covers. Antaries gem blazed a vibrant blue, and without pause, Page sliced diagonally through the Nirttef, cutting the figure in two. A grey mist plumed up out of the gaping slash; and the coverings, hat and all, slumped to the ground in a pile.

Shielding his eyes with one hand from the quickly dissipating mist, Page watched as the pile of black cloth and leather melted into the air, and the wall of flame disappeared. The Nirttefs pulled off their gloves, revealing grey, whiplike, tentacled limbs. They assumed combative stances, and the 9 Nirttefs sprang upon Page.

------------------
Me Bar Pics Page-> (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html")http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html(/url)
'You couldn't get a clue during clue mating season in a field of clues if you smeared your body in musk and did the clue mating dance.' -Severin

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-03-2004).)

Page flared his weaves.
"I'm sorry Fettrin, I was there when Ozy locked you away. I know your sword of Styx isnt a threat anymore, but you've still managed to **** a few things up since Jasan kicked your ass. Also you're wrong about one thing, Jasan didnt beat me. I watched him die there on Kont."
"You're very wrong," One of the Nirttef's replied, "Jasan is alive and well, and I believe the think's you're dead and gone aswell."
Page whipped around his sword in anticipation. The Nirttef's all lashed out with their tentacles. Page charged at the nearest of fettrins slave's his blade ran through one of its tentacles, and tore right to the source. The wounded figure stumbled back, but Page was too quick. He grabbed It by the throat and heaved it across the room, though a stack of unused chairs and a wall.
Another Nirteff managed to catch Page off guard, and knock the velosian off balance. The remaining eight Nirteffs wrapped their tentacles around Page's appendages and lifted him up into the air.
At a loss for what to do Page merely waited. The Nirttef's werent strong, but together they would be a pain in the ass to defeat.
"I suppose we will take him to the netherworld after all," a Nirttef mused.
A surge of black energy ran through a few of the Nirttef's tentacles and when ther reached the cloaked figures bodies they exploded.
The other Nirttef's withdrew their arms and backed up. Page landed lightly on the No Name's tile floor. He stalked forward slowly, and almost eerily.
The Vellosian unleashed a bolt of black lightning, and the Nirttef it was aimed at lost its head. Literally.
"Now get the hell out of here before i rip you all limb from limb."
The remaining Nirttef's consulted eachother and then backed away. A thick grey mist poured from one of the Nirttef's hands and when it cleared they were gone.

------------------
"WE ARE THE POPES OF THE PYROS!!" "WE ARE THE CRUSADERS OF CAPELLA!!" "THE FRIARS OF FIRE!!" "THE BAPTISTS OF BORAL 1!!!!" "THE CATHOLIC KILLERS OF NEW CALCUTTA!!!!!!" "WE ARE THE GOOD!! no.. no... THE BAD!!! yeah.. thats it.. THE BAD CATHOLICS!!!"

Ta-vora had only understand half of what has been said. He walks over to Larra, who is still sitting on the ground and sticks out his hand to help her up.
She grasps it and stands up.
“Are you alright?” Ta-vora asks.
“Yeah, just fine ”
The Ka-nuth then turns to Page.
“Who or what exactly was this thing?” he asks, “And what is this Netherworld?”

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

Leaning heavily on Ta-vora for balance, Larra sighed and closed her eyes. She felt a little better now that there was no immediate danger around her.

"The Netherworlds are the lands of the dead," she said softly. "Fettrin is an archdemon who was imprisoned there with his own sword by Ozymandias. Page, Demon and I were there as well. I think those creatures are some kind of mental representation of Fettrin."

Ta-vora was quiet, unsure how to take what he had just been told. "What were you doing there?" he asked, looking at the three as if he thought they would suddenly turn into undead zombies.

"Long story," Larra replied, releasing her hold on Ta-vora and standing shakily on her own. "We were all there pretty well because of the same event, but for different reasons. But don't worry," she added, so quietly it was almost under her breath. "We're all alive."

Ta-vora looked relieved. Suddenly he flinched away as a still soggy Demon crept up beside him and shook all the water out of his fur. "Larra," the shapeshifter asked, "Do you still have the..." he trailed off, frowning.

Larra brightened slightly. "Yeah I do. Maybe it'll keep the Nirttefs from bothering us." And then I won't have to fight. she added mentally. "I'll go get it." Ozy had imprisoned Fettrin, so maybe his staff would scare the Nirttefs away. She hadn’t really stolen it...just never gotten around to giving it back.

The second she was out of earshot, Demon spoke again, just loud enough that both Page and Ta-vora could hear. "I'm sure you've noticed that something is definitely wrong. She won't tell me what it is, so I'm going to follow her. I think I'll need your help to keep an eye on her."

Flicking his tail, Demon trotted out of the bar.

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

"Well, glad that that's over, aren't ya?" Squiggy said, suddenly standing right beside Page with his arm over the other's shoulder. He slapped the swordbearer on the back. Both laughed heartily, the one oblivious to the evil Page had overcome, the latter relieved that for the moment the evil had been dealt with. Still... Page was concerned for Larra, and he didn't need this stranger to fool around. Shrugging Squiggy off, he stepped closer to continue his conversation with Ta-vora.

Unfazed, Squiggy went in another direction and approached the Hacker.
"I debugged my program successfully, and... well... I couldn't have done it without your help." He said this very solemnly.
Then Squiggy put his hands on both of the Hacker's shoulders and shook him with excitement. "I can't tell you how much I owe you!"

Opening his robe and pouring a healthy pile of creds on the table, Squiggy screamed " ** DRINKS ON MY FRIEND HERE!!!**

Fettrin withdrew his consciousness from the bar, for a while, and chuckled inwardly.

"He thought he was dead. Dead! He thought Jasan was dead!? Hwa ha ha ha haaa!"

A few grains of dust fluttered off the hilt of the Sword of the Styx, and fell to the floor of the silent cavern.

"Oh, this is exquisite... This means- yessssssss, this means Jasan believes Page to be dead as well! Oh, I couldn't have choreographed a better scene myself. Well. Well, well, well... The matter still remains that that wretched Vellosian does not trust me. And my minions are far too underpowered to singlehandedly take him down. Faugh, I really am getting tired of being stuck in this accursed sword. I must find someone willing, someone strong enough to survive the journey, but willing... yessssssss..."

------------------
Me Bar Pics Page-> (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html")http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html(/url)
'You couldn't get a clue during clue mating season in a field of clues if you smeared your body in musk and did the clue mating dance.' -Severin

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-03-2004).)

OOC: When Fettrin is in the Netherworld, there is a reason why he should somehow find Ta-vora's presence familiar. Not because Ta-vora is dead or demon or anything, but because he has been to the world of deaths once, although he doesn't remember it. This is a completely different story, though.

------------------
The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

Yume just yawned now as the fight had been entertaining while it lasted. She just watched the Vellosian for a few moments as the fight seemed almost too easy or perhaps he just made it seem easy. Who knew. But now the fight was over so no point in watching.

She soon turned around in her seat to face the bar again while she tapped her finger on the counter as she thought for a few moments on what to do next. Jacey had run off to who knows where... perhaps she should go after him and see what he is up to.

But then again, why in the world would she do that anyways? Jacey had his own business and she had her own. She didn't have to get into his business like he didn't have to get into her own. So there was no reason to go after him. He'll come back when he sees fit.

Now she just glanced at The Hacker or Charlie and watched him for a few seconds as she sat there on the stool. Again, there was nothing to do for the moment but the solitude was fine for now.

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

You cannot. This one is not yours to take.

The simple warning was barely perceptible to an experienced telepath but the blast of psionic energy released afterwards forced itself on everyone. An immensely powerful psychic scream filled the No Name bar and instantly enveloped the entire asteroid. The scream sang of pain, anger, fear and a great deal more, reverberating perplexedly through the skulls of the occupants. Abruptly a rush of hot air blasted from an edge of the bar opposite the main entrance. The concussion knocked the nearest inhabitants off their feet and most of the people in the room decided that they had better places to be at the moment as they scurried out the door as quickly as possible. Then from the epicenter of the continuing blast of air a man appeared with his head bowed near the ground and long tangled grey hair touching the floor. His appearance seemed to cause the cessation of the soundless scream as though it was stifled and the blast of air stopped a moment afterward. The man was wearing the remains of a tattered, blackened robe that crumpled and fell with his first movement displaying a pair of slightly less tattered white pants belted with a coarse rope.

The pause after his arrival didn’t last long. A slight hiss escaped his mouth and he began to charge aggressively toward a young girl in black, who watched with a slight interest. Then another barely detectable confused whisper escaped his mind she has a soul. He quickly attempted to readjust his course but hit the table in front of her. His knee bent backward with a very audible snap and he fell forward crashing wildly over the next table before landing forcefully on the floor. He lay there for a moment before pushing himself up and taking his eyes of the floor for the first time to look into a vellosian face. Page saw his eyes widen, they were blank marbles, white and unseeing. However, as interesting as the eyes were the reaction on the young face was even more mesmerizing. His entire face was livid with absolute terror as he stared directly at Page and began to stumble backwards whimpering his first words. “No, it can’t be, impossible. No, please no.” Tears were rolling steadily down his cheeks and the light glinted bizarrely off the soles of his faltering feet as he backed into the wall with despair etched in his face as though out of habit. His blank eyes were now visible to everyone in the bar, unaccountably emotional with immeasurable chaos and dread.

Yume just blinked and rubbed the back of her neck after that "little" event and the man who had been charging. At her? Maybe not, he had changed course and ended up hitting a table before falling right smack on the floor.

She watched with the slightest of interest and raised a brow as she saw the man seemed terrified of the Vellosian. She had yet to see so much fear and emotions from any other person, especially a man and this brought surprise to her as she watched the man.

What shocked her more was that the man was crying. She had never seen a man cry. A boy? Yes but an adult male was a different matter. She almost got up and went over to him just out of impulse but she caught herself before doing such an act as she sat back down in her seat.

She was very curious on why this new stranger seemed so terrified of the Vellosian named Page as she had caught his name when Page was fighting. She sat back and stared at the fear-stricken man with the slightest of interest while she crossed her legs and waited to see what would happen next.

Perhaps things would be explained soon on why the sudden outburst from the newcomer and how aggresively he had came in before finally turning from fury to whimpering...

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

Dech climbed to his feet after being knocked over by the entrance of the strange man. Seeing him advancing towards Yume like he was going to kill her or some such nonsense, Dech's hand strayed to the pistol belted to his thigh.

Seeing the man change course and cower from Page, Dech relaxed.

"Hey, old guy, let's not scare away my patrons with parlor tricks, ok? And how about you behave like a relatively normal humanoid like the rest of us?" Dech said, annoyed.

Getting no answer from the stranger, Dech went back to polishing the bar. It was already cleaner than any bar in the entire station, which said a lot, considering that pirates tend to value their source of alcohol highly, therefore there were some pretty clean bars on the Rock.

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

The spiked ship chewed its way through a docking bay door, intruding on several men loading a clandestine shipment into their Blockade Runner model Arada. The ship, paying them no attention whatsoever, proceeded to smash through another inner hangar door, ripping it off it's hinges. The spikes them moved, dropping the door on the bare rock floor. Slowly, the ship settled into a landing.

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

OOC: I've had a bad case of writer's block lately. It seems to be dissipating, thankfully.

------------------
(url="http://"http://thegreenfiles.net/")thegreenfiles.net(/url)
"Oh... is that right, Rambo?"
cogito cogito ergo cogito sum
thegreenfile@gmail.com

He was aware that the bartender was speaking to him but he didn’t listen, it was most likely either a death threat or an admonition for scaring off his customers. Then he changed his focus and stared straight at the bartender, catching Dech’s eye with a twenty-five year old’s face; in stark contrast with the grey hair. In spite of his disheveled appearance, he didn’t have any facial hair. Then Dech began polishing and the man was alone again against the wall.

“It can’t be real.” he thought, “Wait, that’s the answer. It isn’t real. This is merely a hallucination.” He began to chuckle mutely, his entire frame shaking. “Damn you! Just let me die!” he screamed at the barroom floor, then he appeared to calm again and his face grew placid.

After a minute of silence, he began to speak. His voice was raspy but relatively normal. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience and any discomfort I may have caused, I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiled as charmingly as he could and began to walk toward where had arrived, or, more precisely to stumble blindly toward the remnants of his robe. He slowly made it to his destination and scooped up the ashes. By this time, only a few sets of eyes were still on him, so only Yume and Page saw that under the robe two human footprints were burned into the metal of the bar’s floor, but they both disappeared only moments after the robe was removed. He continued to stumble out of the bar, he seemed to know the proper direction even though he couldn’t see the obstacles in his way as he managed to trip over every table and chair until he was out the door.

After he had left the tension eased and customers came in at a renewed speed and the dead silence that had proceeded became a buzz that soon matched the usual sound of the bar. Page thought back on his face, the eyes and the hair were new but the face was vaguely familiar.

OOC: Long post here... this is important.

Larra wandered towards the docking bay in a cloud. Still, fear and anger fought her for every step. Choking a little on the stuffy air inside the inhabited asteroid, she leaned against one wall, resting her forehead on the cool but rocky surface.

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear. She had to leave. Now. Her friends wouldn’t understand, especially Demon, but it was the only way to keep them from getting seriously hurt. Larra knew that her resistance was weakening. It had been ten years since the last time she had lost control, and that was about nine years, eleven months longer than she had expected.

Then a feeling of dread and despair unlike any other washed over her.

==========================================
Scene Soundtrack - Fadeaway by Celldweller

Taking a deep breath, Larra lifted her head from the wall and turned slowly. Nine people stood around her in a vague semicircle; the narrow pathway clear of all bystanders. Eight of them were like typical bodyguards: way too much muscle armed with a variety of wicked-looking weapons. The only thing consistent in their choice of arms was that each carried what Larra recognized to be a dart gun on their right side.

The ninth was leaner and less heavily armed, but he clearly held the position of authority, with four thugs on either side of him. He was quite handsome, with short spiked brown hair tipped with grown-out blonde highlights, and strongly defined facial features that usually made him appear both determined and dangerous. Lance’s brown eyes were the type that could seem incredibly hard and cold one minute, only to soften instantly and give him an almost gentle appearance.

Larra stared at him with such hate in her violet eyes that Lance knew well to look directly into them would grant him a quick but painful death. Instead he stepped forward, smirking confidently. His bodyguards would be little use against her if she were to decide to kill him. Lance knew this, but if his plan worked she wouldn’t attack him at all.

“Not another step,” Larra snarled, trying hard to remember her earlier resolve not to end up fighting again. Lance smiled faintly. “It’s nice to see you again. I was hoping for a slightly warmer welcome, now that we know each other and all.” He moved forward, stopping just inside her tolerance zone.

With a quick hand movement, Larra pulled both of her swords out of midair and slid into a basic stance. “Get out of here, Lance,” she said coldly. “I won’t think twice about killing you.”

One of the ex-assassin’s eyebrows arched slightly. He crossed his arms and stayed where he was. “I think you will. Nice try, but I know exactly what’s going through that pretty little head of yours. This is an issue of control, isn’t it?”

Mind racing, Larra gritted her teeth and tried futilely to remain calm. How did he always seem to know what she was thinking? Darbain had taught her to fortify her mental defenses up to the point where he himself had to put serious thought to breaking through them; there was no way someone like Lance could even make a dent.

“Silent, are we? Maybe that’s the best course, seeing as I can turn anything you say against you.”

Larra made no response, but her rage built up even higher. He was so full of himself, but the worst part was what he said was true. Usually she could infuriate people with only a few words, now the same strategy was working on her. Fuming, Larra focused on a point behind Lance, attempting to block out his every word.

At first it worked. At least, until she began to consider her options. The being she hated the most was standing in front of her. If she attacked, he won. If she stayed and allowed him to get to her, he won. She had to run, to carry out her original plan and leave. Larra hated running.

Straightening up, she released her swords, mentally commanding them to hover behind her. “As pleasant as this conversation has been, Lance, I’m afraid it’s time for me to go.”

Lance smiled, knowing it would infuriate her. He could hear the pure anger in her voice already. From someone who could hide emotions so well, he hadn’t expected it this early in the game.

The bodyguards held their ground as Larra approached one arm of the semicircle. There was enough space in between each one for her to walk through easily. Lance watched, quite unconcerned.

Larra was directly in between two of the guards when she heard it. A rhythmic clatter arose a good distance behind her, a sound she knew all too well. The Acaran whirled around, terrified of what she knew she was about so see.

The sound of claws on rock stopped as Demon leapt at one of Lance’s men, fangs bared in a deep snarl. Seemingly in slow motion, the guard whirled, raising his dart gun as he spun, and fired once.

Demon sailed over the blond man’s head as he ducked, landing in the middle of the semicircle. The shapeshifter’s legs gave out on contact with the ground, and he collapsed forward on the uneven path. Determined, the huge wolf struggled to get up and leap at Lance, only for his muscles to reject what his mind ordered. Unable to even get up properly, Demon slid around for a moment, then fell for good.

Larra’s mind went numb as she stared at her longtime friend’s unmoving form. She was barely aware of the fact that her swords flipped around in front of her, neatly beheading the guards nearest her on their way.

Deep inside the young Acaran’s mind, the one called Nevell reached out for a better foothold.

She had to kill them now. Larra saw that as clearly as she could read the tiny name sewn into the uniform of the man who had shot Demon. G. Roxfield. She grabbed a sword in each hand and raced forwards.

Nevell rose higher, striving for the control that should have been his a long time ago. Others climbed behind him, trying to stop him; to pull him back into the quiet submission they had been keeping him trapped in.

Larra paused in the middle of the circle, considering who to kill first - Roxfield or Lance. Turning on the former, she released all the pent-up anger she was unable to keep down any longer. Only then did panic set in as she realized she was falling deeper and deeper into her own mind...

He could have laughed out loud, he was so excited. “Larra”, as she called herself, was falling, Nevell would win for sure. But the others...they were doing everything in their power to stop him.

The tip of the curved blade was mere inches away from Roxfield’s face when Larra stopped suddenly and dropped both of her swords. The seven warring forces in her mind had reaching a point where each held equal standing.

Her violet eyes, signature mark of the Acaran telepath, had always swirled with a few other shades of the color at certain times. Now, they blazed with so many that it was impossible to discern what the original form of the color had been. Larra herself seemed to pulse faintly with the same light.

Suddenly choked by more fear than he could handle, Lance stumbled back a few steps. This hadn’t happened last time she had lost control, and he had seen enough. He didn’t waste a minute in teleporting to safety.

Nevell’s rise was halted abruptly by something much more powerful than he himself. He had feared an equilibrium state above all else, but had never dreamed it would happen. Now he could only fume and hope the oblivious telepath in control made a choice that would drop the power right into his lap.

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

Back in the relatively quiet bar, Larra’s power surge went completely unnoticed by everyone who had seen too little of her chae telepathy to be able to sense it on their own. The only one with a vague idea on how to do it was Page, and though he wouldn’t pick up anything Larra didn’t want him to, there was nothing subtle about what had just happened.

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

Though mere moments ago Larra had felt drawn under, below the surface of her mind, everything suddenly seemed to clear up. She was in control again. Little things like the emotions that had overrun her before seemed totally insignificant, and the constant battling between the other telepaths in her mind had been silenced.

Feeling secure, she turned to restart the job. This time, she’d go after Lance first. The six living bodyguards stood completely still, frozen by the fear of this new development. Lance was gone.

Her fury came back, much easier than before. The new power didn’t fade, but now the power itself was angry. Violet aura and eyes darkening, Larra turned her attention back to Roxfield and the others. She left her swords on the ground.

“Ecrento Nevicten.”

The words in spoken in her native language called up a spell of pure dark power. Roxfield instantly fell to his knees, coughing violently. Blood began to pour from his mouth, spattering his clothes and the ground in front of them.

Larra stood just far enough away to keep from getting splashed with blood, watching as the man and his comrades in arms all died in the same, slow fashion. Then the power faded, and she fell to her knees.

Nevell laughed. Fool. She had called upon his power, unknowingly done the very thing he had been hoping for. Shattering the state of equilibrium, he rose up unchallenged and wrenched control away.

Larra shuddered. The rapidly darkening light around her suddenly faded into total blackness and closed in. Shockwaves pulsed out, thoroughly shaking the Rock but doing no actual damage.

She rose to her feet. The shadows coated her entire body, making her appear to be only a dark silhouette. Only Larra’s eyes retained color, shining brightly through the darkness around them. Like the violet light before them, the shadows were not only one color, but blacks varying in darkness. They swirled around, moving with rhythm but no pattern.

Nevell surveyed his surroundings. It was good to be in control again, though it was a pity he couldn’t yet handle the equilibrium state. No matter, it wasn’t like he needed it... He smiled coldly, and the swords at his feet obediently flew over to him. The moment the Fourth Telepath grasped the hilts, the blades became black voids, seeming to suck in light instead of reflect it.

He was much stronger this time than the last. By becoming more powerful herself and training her mind to reject other influences, "Larra" had given him all he needed to keep in command.

Calmly, Nevell turned and walked towards the bar, pulling his mental defenses up around him. She had held him back too long; given him a need for revenge. Killing her friends should do just fine.

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

No more than three hyperspace jumps away, Lance sat back in his gigantic battle cruiser and sipped a tall glass of Saalian Brady. He had won after all.

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

Demon lay in a pool of blood that wasn’t his, more furious than he had ever been in his life. The paralysis of the dart would be fully effective for hours. Until then, he was helpless to do anything. Worse, Larra thought he was dead. How could he have been so stupid to attack in the open like that?

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

OOC: Physical attacks won't hurt Nevell; they will stop the shadows from moving where the wound should be.

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If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

(This message has been edited by Synesthesia (edited 08-04-2004).)