I own Jani-Ca and any quasi-anonymous characters, and nobody else.

This is, for all purposes, the "sequel" to Spectres of the Past. However, because of the nature of that sequel, it begins with a scene repeated from the end of that story.

A couple of minor changes are made to account for adding canon wife Kali-Ka to my story. Nothing major, nothing plot-altering, just a means to let my fanfic coexist with official canon just that little bit more.
Because I like to torture myself that way. ;)

Sojourner crept around in the forest, keeping an eye out for watchers. He was not worried about the Legion catching him. But he was absolutely terrified that his parents would find out.

They'd ground me until my grandchildren were old and gone if they knew I was out here.

He nudged his power into his room, checking up on his project.

Perfect. The plants he'd been studying back home thrived quite well on his energy. He shouldn't even need those emerald shards Mother had given him anymore; the plants should be enough to convince anyone he was still there.

He suppressed the rest of his power, leaving only enough to let him sense his surroundings. It was risky; the fire ants were the ones to teach him that, and they might sense that their lesson was in use. And even the Legion might be able to detect it.

But he'd have to take the chance. It was either that, or give them the chance to hurt his father, change him like they'd changed grandfather.

He curled his lip at what he felt; the cybernetics didn't bother him, and some of the Legionnaires had quite pleasant minds, but the minds of some of the others... He suppressed a shudder.

He crept a little closer to the camp, and frowned. Something felt...wrong. Not wrong like their minds. Wrong like his own parents, like the sicknesses even he had to deal with now and again.

Perfectly normal for most people, but out of place in the Legion. Their cybernetics enhanced them, enhanced even their health. And this sickness...

Was doing far more damage than it should have.

He cast out his power in search of the wrongness. Sure enough, one of them was sick. Maybe about his mother's age, recently strong, but fading fast.

But is that good for us, or bad? he wondered.

He crept into the camp to find out.

—

Marin-Da woke from a fevered sleep to see someone leaning over her. Just another dream, she decided.

But the figure had seen her open her eyes, and he clapped a hand over her mouth before she could make a sound.

A startled squeak escaped before she recognized that she was fully awake. "What do you want?" she managed past the intruder's hand.

He held up a hand for silence, and closed his eyes.

She frowned, trying to examine him from her position. He sat next to her bed, and nothing more; other than covering her mouth, he hadn't moved since she'd awakened. What...?

She blinked, then realized that the intruder was quite small. A child?

She felt something brush against her mind, and then the intruder opened his eyes and looked at her.

He removed his hand so she could sit up. "How long have you been ill?" he whispered.

What business is that of yours? she thought. She opened her mouth to reply—

Plenty business, he thought back, startling another squeak out of her. If you hope to get better.

She stared at him. How did he...? He got up to look outside the tent. When he sat back down again, she saw it. The collar ring. "You're a Guardian," she whispered.

It wasn't a question, but he nodded. "In training," he whispered back.

She took another look at him, and frowned. He was a child; he couldn't even be as old as her twins. What was he doing here? In his enemy's camp?

"A little over three weeks," she finally admitted.

"This sick?"

"Yes...no. No, just...tired at first." She blinked. Why was she telling him this? She shook her head. "The next morning, I started to feel...hot. Like I had a fever. And..." She shrugged.

"And you've told no one?" he asked, alarmed. "You've let it go this long without treatment?"

"The Legion has been...busy," she replied, feeling a wave of guilt. Busy fighting your people. "I didn't think it was bad enough to bother them. And I doubted any of the locals would be inclined to help out."

"Miss... I'm sorry, there's no nice way to say this, but...you're dying." He shook his head. "I don't know why; it shouldn't be that bad. I've seen people get this virus all the time; it isn't common, but it isn't dangerous, either! My friends have had it, and all they had to show for it was a couple of days laid up in bed. But it...it's killing you."

Her eyes widened. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense."

"It does?"

She nodded. "This virus...you'd probably been exposed to it as..." She shook her head. As a kid, she'd been about to say. "Your people had dealt with it for long enough," she said, neither of them aware that she echoed Spectre's own thoughts. "Your bodies have adapted over time to learn how to fight it, so it isn't dangerous. But the Legion has been holed up in that Zone for...well, it's only been about fifty years or so for us, but if the virus doesn't exist in our Zone, we wouldn't have had the chance to adapt to it like you had."

He stared at her for a long while, and she could see the pain flicker across his expression. She didn't know what to make of it, or what he made of what she'd said.

Finally, he made his decision. "I'll be back soon."

—

A few hours past midnight, Luger was watching his twins help with the patrol.

The radio buzzed in his pocket.

"Yes?"

"You are Luger?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

He frowned. "Yes, I am. Who is this?"

"Luger. The Grandmaster? Marin-Da's husband?"

"Yes," Luger growled. "Who are you? How did you get this frequency?"

"You need to come back to camp," the voice continued. "I need to talk to you."

"Damn it, I asked you—"

"Marin-Da is very ill. She is trying to be strong, so maybe you didn't know that. But I must ask, is this important to you?"

Luger's mouth hung open.

"Is this important to you? Do you want her to feel better? Do you want to see her again...alive?"

Luger's hand tightened around the radio; he couldn't decide whether to be angry or afraid.

"Come back to the camp, Luger." The voice seemed to hesitate. "Alone, please."

"I'll be there in half an hour," Luger snapped. "Simon! Keep an eye on them, could you? I have...other business to take care of."

He reached the camp in less than fifteen minutes. He inspected the communication pavilion first, hoping he could catch the speaker off guard.

But the only people in the tent were the Legionnaires on duty...all of them unconscious.

He pulled out his gun and tiptoed to the opening to his and Marin-Da's tent.

He reached slowly, carefully, for the flap and opened it—

"Put your hands on your head," he hissed, touching the gun to the back of the intruder's head. "And step away from my wife."

The intruder complied.

Marin-Da raised an eyebrow. "I told you he wouldn't like that 'see your wife alive' line."

"I wanted him to know it was urgent," the intruder replied. "And it got him here, didn't it?"

It was the same voice as was on the radio, but...

"You're a kid?" Luger said, astonished.

The intruder...the child...turned to face him. "She's dying, Luger. I don't know if you can save her, but I thought you might want the chance to try."

Luger blinked, too astonished to realize what the child had said. "You're a kid," he repeated. "Who...who are you? Do your parents know you're here?"

"No, they don't," the child replied, "and I'd like to keep it that way. My name's Sojourner."

Luger shook his head.

"Um..." Sojourner scratched his head. "You've probably heard of my father. Aurora knows Spectre's made a name for being vicious."

"Spectre—" Luger cleared his throat. "Guardian Spectre?" What was this child doing here? The Guardians wouldn't resort to using a child as a spy...would they? "You're with the Guardians?"

The child nodded.

"Wait—" Luger frowned. "Guardian Spectre...Tobor's son?"

Sojourner flinched, then nodded.

Ah, that Guardian. Still doesn't explain why the child's here.

Luger gestured to a chair, and folded his arms. "You were talking about Marin-Da's illness?"

Sojourner nodded, and took the invitation to sit down. He repeated the discussion he'd had with Marin-Da.

And Luger's eyes widened with every word. He looked at his wife. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were busy," she said, "and I didn't know it was that bad." She flicked her gaze to the child, and the guilt flashed across her face again.

"Boy," Luger said. "Sojourner. You also said something about making her feel better?"

Sojourner pulled off his pack and dug out the bundle of plants he'd been working with. "These are all the mature ones I've got. I...I'd been experimenting with them to help my father. He'd been burned, you see, and his medicine... Well, it helps so he doesn't hurt much, but only for a little while, and he can't always think too clearly when he's on it."

Luger inspected the bundle of plants. "And this will help?"

"I was hoping it would. It should help him think clearly, at least. And after I checked Marin-Da's symptoms, I figured it'd do the same for her."

Luger frowned. Something about what the boy had said didn't sit easily in his mind. "You said your father was burned? Recently?"

Sojourner shook his head. "When he was a child. A little younger than me. Everyone says he should've healed by now, but he hasn't. Nobody knows why."

Luger and Marin-Da exchanged alarmed looks. "Your grandfather must be quite upset," he said in a neutral tone, "that his child is in such pain."

Sojourner shook his head. "My grandmother died in that fire; I think Tobor blames my father for it."

Luger grimaced.

"As...as a child?" Marin-Da whispered to Luger. "Tell me he didn't!"

"I wish I could," he whispered back. "But it does seem like the kind of thing he'd do."

Sojourner looked from one to the other, as he tried to figure out what they were talking about.

Luger shook his head. "These plants..." he prompted.

"They won't cure her. She's...um..." He frowned. "It's not that hot here, not to me, but it's hot enough to make it worse. She needs to be some place cold if she's to get better. And I can't even promise that. But those might be enough to make things easier for her." And that's all I can promise, he thought. You won't be able to cure her; she's been here too long.

"These are your mature plants?" Luger said, hoping to shift the topic to something the boy would find more comfortable. "So you have others? Young plants, or seeds, to experiment with?"

The pain in the boy's eyes was all the answer that he needed.

"I see," Luger said, closing his eyes to hide his reaction. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before looking at the child again. "I am in your debt, young Guardian, and that is a position I have never expected to find myself in. I will try to find a way to repay that debt. But if you think of anything I can do, please let me know."

Sojourner nodded.

—

Marin-Da waited until the boy had left before turning to face her husband. "How could you accept those from him? His father needs them—"

"Not as much as you do," Luger replied. He stared at the bundle of plants.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he wouldn't have given them to us, otherwise." One corner of his mouth twitched. "Someplace cold, huh? I guess...we're going back home, then."

—

Neither the Brotherhood nor city knew what to expect when they converged on the Legion's camp.

But it wasn't what they found.

The Legion fought to defend themselves, but did not press their advantage. Instead, Luger activated a device to open the portal, and the Legion marched through without the slightest sign of resistance.

Luger was the last to go through. He sought out Tobor's gaze, and simply watched him with a smoldering anger.

And the portal closed between them.

—

Thirty years and more had come and gone. Spectre's condition grew worse. When he wasn't in pain, he suffered from hallucinations; when he did not hallucinate, he was in constant pain.

And nobody had a solution. No one but Sojourner's biological mother, it would seem, but nobody was supposed to know about her. Jani-Ca was so careful about that, so happy to let everyone believe that he was her son. Or Kali-Ka's, rather, since the new woman had stepped in and helped to raise him as Jani-Ca faded practically to a wraith.

Either way, Sojourner was not desperate enough to ruin that happiness. Not yet.

He sighed and put down his tools.

"Something wrong?"

He looked up to see Jani-Ca standing over him with a cup of tea. "Oh, hello, mother." He grinned at the look on her face. "I know, I know, I'm supposed to call Kali-Ka 'mother.' And I do... but you're my mother, too." He let her muss up his hair, suppressed a shudder at the hand that was more spirit than flesh these days, accepted the cup before she could drop it, and sipped at the tea, before he finally addressed her original question. "I was just trying to figure out that project Fidelis and I worked on when I was a kid."

She frowned. "Your plants, right? The ones that died when you tried to enhance them?"

Sojourner winced. He hated lying to Jani-Ca, but he didn't want anyone to know how he'd really 'lost' those plants. "Whatever made them," he said, "was an accident. I've tried, mother, I've been trying ever since. But I haven't been able to make them again."

"It's okay," she whispered, pulling him into an embrace. "It's all right, son. I'm sure we can come up with something else."

"Actually," he said, pulling free of her arms, "I have thought of something else." He picked up a little Emerald from the pile of tools. "I'd been working on...um, portals, and I found a place that might have something useful."

"Want any help?"

He shook his head. "I think I'd better do this one alone."

She lifted one eyebrow. "You don't want a ghost following you around?"

"It wouldn't do me any good to scare everyone off," he replied with a grin. "No, really, though, I just don't know if it will work, mother. And I don't want to get anybody's hopes up." And the Brotherhood would kill me for even thinking it.

"I'll leave you to it, then." She kissed his forehead and walked out of the workroom.

He picked up the Emerald and his computer, then looked around again to be sure nobody was watching before opening the portal. He took one last look around, and stepped through into the darkness.

—

The first thing that hit him was the cold, and the sheer emptiness of the place.

He felt signs of life off to his left, and turned in that direction to investigate.

And met with an ambush.

The Legion surrounded him and attacked. Every instinct screamed at him to defend himself, but he feared he would ruin everything if he fought them now. He tried to ward off the blows, but he forced himself not to fight back.

And soon, they had him pinned to the ground.

A woman stepped forward and grabbed his hair, jerking his head up to look at her. She smirked. "Well, now. It's not every day we get a Guardian around here," she said. She looked around at the Legion. "What shall we do with him? Shoot him? Skin him? Roast him alive?" Each suggestion met with cheers. She sneered at him. "Or there is that experiment grandfather offered to us..."

Sojourner shuddered. "I need to speak to Luger," he whispered.

She slapped him. "Your people banished us here," she hissed. "What makes you think you have the right to come here? To speak to us now?"

He tried to shake his head. "I have...information for him," he said. "Information he'll want to see."

Her eyebrows shot up, and she released him to investigate the computer. "Password?"

Sojourner shook his head again. "The information," he said, "is for Luger, and Luger alone."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. She made a gesture, and one of the Legionnaires clubbed him in the back of the head.

Sojourner saw stars, and then nothing.

—

"-coming around," another woman was saying.

"Guardian?" a male voice said. "Guardian, are you all right?"

Sojourner forced his eyes open. He barely noticed that he was staring at a floor before the light pierced into his brain.

He quickly shut his eyes again and groaned.

The woman's voice chuckled. "Safe to say that's a no."

He felt someone turn his head and pry his eyes open. He tried to squint against the light shining directly into them.

"He doesn't appear to have a concussion," the male voice said after a moment. "You can go now, Lien-Da."

"But father—" the first female, the one who'd attacked him, protested.

"Now, Lien-Da. I can handle this myself."

Sojourner blinked and tried to look around. The woman who'd attacked him earlier shot a suspicious glare at the speakers before storming off.

"I'm really very sorry about this, Guardian," Luger said after Lien-Da had gone. He moved to untie the ropes binding Sojourner's arms and legs before helping the Guardian to his feet. "There was no reason for them to hit you that hard."

"Oh!" Sojourner staggered. "Maybe I should sit down," he mumbled. He dropped back to the floor and held his head for a few minutes. "I—I think I'm...okay...now." He blinked and looked around. "How—how's Marin-Da?"

Luger winced. "She died, Guardian. Only a few weeks after we came back."

"Oh... I'm so sorry. The plants...?"

"Eased her suffering," the woman replied. "But Luger tells me they were not meant as a cure."

Luger forced a smile onto his face. "Oh, yes, where are my manners? Guardian Sojourner, allow me to introduce my consort, Mari-Su."

Sojourner acknowledged her with a nod.

"But you didn't come here to discuss my late wife," Luger said. "Can I assume this is about my debt?"

"Please, sir," Sojourner replied, closing his eyes against the tears. "You owe me nothing. I wasn't able to save her. But I thought—I thought...maybe, if we made a deal—"

"Nonsense," Luger said quietly. "You tried to help her, Guardian. You gave up a great deal to ease her suffering. I owe you for that, at least. I owe your father for your sacrifice." And for what mine did to him.

"If you say so," Sojourner muttered. "As it happens, my father is why I'm here." He pulled the computer towards him, opened up the files, and pushed it back towards Luger.

Luger tapped a few keys, skimming through the file. He lifted one eyebrow and looked at Sojourner. "These are medical records."

Sojourner nodded. "Everything I've found on him since the fire, until now."

Luger continued to skim through the documents, his frown deepening as each page went by. "He is still in pain? His medicine still makes him...hallucinate?"

"Yes, sir. He still suffers from hallucinations, but...I don't think he's taking his medicine, anymore. Either that, or the pain is a lot worse than it used to be." Sojourner choked back a sob. "Everything is about his pain, now. He needs the medicine 'cause he hurts so much, but the medicine makes him see things, and it spooks him, and when he gets spooked, his power goes weird, and he starts hurting worse, and... I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Forgive me, Guardian, but I'm not entirely certain what you expect me to do." Luger shrugged. "I know what I would do with this, but I just don't see your Brotherhood accepting our cybernetics that easily. Not even for this worthy cause."

"I know," Sojourner whispered. "But I was hoping..."

"Does it have to be cybernetics?" Mari-Su asked.

Luger and Sojourner only blinked at her.

She rolled her eyes at their blank expressions. She peered over Luger's shoulder at the files. "A lot of the damage could be taken care of with skin grafts, correct?" Sojourner nodded carefully. "And the Brotherhood would not object to...prosthetics? I mean, suppose you'd lost an arm. Surely your people would not expect you to live out your life that way."

"No," Sojourner replied. "But it isn't enough. They've tried prosthetics and grafts; none of it is any better than that survival suit the chameleons gave us." Luger stiffened, but Sojourner was too caught up in his grief to notice. "And all that's good for is protecting him from more harm. It doesn't make him any better. It doesn't help him heal. The only time he isn't in pain is when he can't feel anything at all!"

Mari-Su nodded. "I'm thinking...nerve damage? So you'll need something more than simple prosthetics. Grafts that we can wire into the nervous system, maybe?"

"Maybe," Luger said. "But without cybernetics?"

"Maybe not...exactly," she replied. "But that Nocturnus refugee has been working with organics. She might have a few ideas that are less obvious than what we're used to. Something the Brotherhood might accept, or maybe won't even notice."

Luger snorted. "Assuming you can pry her away from Kragok long enough," he muttered. "I swear, she practically worships him, when it should really be the other way around." He tapped a few more keys and scowled at the computer. "Go talk to her."

"That won't do any good," Sojourner interrupted. When Mari-Su stopped, and she and Luger looked at him, he swallowed and clarified. "My own mother," he said, referring to Kali-Ka, "is a trained healer. She's tried the sort of grafts you want. It doesn't do any good."

"That may be, but I expect Kali-Ka's teacher hasn't taught her everything," Luger said. He chuckled at the shock on Sojourner's face. "Oh come now, you must've known she was one of mine, even without the cybernetics. Who do you think asked her to look in on your people?"

"Er..." Sojourner frowned. He had known; Kali-Ka's siblings, technomages both, made no secret of the fact that they were former Legionnaires. It was only logical to assume that Kali-Ka was, as well... except that she was careful not to let on that she was their sister. Not to mention... "But that was... before we met..."

Luger shook his head. "Your people and mine have been enemies for a long time," he said, "but there are some things I will not stand for. After I'd learned of certain of my father's experiments, I thought a little damage control was in order. I'd chosen Kali-Ka and her siblings, because I needed someone who could sneak out from under my father's eye, someone he had yet to indoctrinate. Ah, speaking of which," he said, turning back towards Mari-Su, "see if you can't get your mitts on my father's... guests. I've a few questions they might be able to answer, as well."

She nodded. Luger copied the files, then pushed the computer back to Sojourner. "I promise you nothing, Guardian," he said, folding his hands together. "Surely you've noticed that time flows differently between our two worlds." Sojourner nodded. "Even if we found a solution, that difference may prove crucial."

"I know," Sojourner whispered.

"And we could hardly expect to bring your father here. Even were it not for the lack of wisdom at bringing him into enemy territory, this environment would be difficult for him, just as your environment has proven difficult for us."

Sojourner nodded. He made no move to wipe away the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

Luger leaned back and looked at the boy. Nearly my age, now, yet I cannot see him as other than the child I met not ten years past. He stood up to rummage in a cabinet, and tossed a device at Sojourner. "I have a few other things I'd like to look into, Guardian. I'll contact you when we have your answer."

"Thank you."