It's Never Too Late

By: Moojuice Nne of the Mayonnaise!

SO? Huh, huh, do you like it so far? :) Thank you for the reviews. Therefore, I'm giving

Nne's AMAZING DIRT CAKE OF THANKS

--to the following reviewers!

THE FIRST REVIEWER! THE SECOND REVIEWER! AND SO ON!

O.O I'm sorry, but Nne is not connected to the Internet…and she has not looked at the sequel since she posted it last night. So she has no clue who even reviewed. :(  But, not to fear! Once I go and check the sequel, I'll put the names of my loyal reviewers up for ALL to see!

I already stated my disclaimer in the first chapter, YA FOO! Go on and read.

Chapter Two: Month ONE All Over Again

Red tapped the tall stack of papers into a neater pile on his desk, then sat back in his chair and waited. He was scheduled to have a conference with the Advisory Board about his trip. He hated "the fruity get-togethers," as they were known to Purple, because the advisors thought that they could control the Tallests' lives without the consent of the Tallest. Red remembered one meeting where Purple had stood up after a while, poured the contents of his water glass onto the advisor next to him, and left the room. "Just like him to spoil their plans…" he smiled.

Ten minutes later, the door opened and the Advisory Board came filing in, their hoods up over their antennae. Red saw Mim near the back, holding up the robe of Ren, the Head Advisor over all the Boards. Ren's silver eyes pierced into Red's, and the Tallest's blood boiled. Ren and Purple had loathed each other with a passion, mainly because Ren's son, Zen, had been denied to advance the PreTallest stage because Purple had found out about Zen's illegal growth drug.

"My Tallest," Ren stated in an icy voice. "We bow before you."

The advisors bowed their heads in silent respect. Red shivered. "I swear, it has dropped twenty degrees colder since you walked into my office," he snarled. "Just state your business and get this meeting over with."

"Aren't you going to invite us to sit down?"

"Do it, then." Red took his place at the head of the table. Ren sat down at the other end. The other advisors sat in the rest of the chairs. Ren rested his chin in his hands. "My Tallest, I have received word from my esteemed colleague Mim that you are taking a most hazardous route on your trip. Is this true?"

"Drop the act, Ren. You know I am."

Ren looked innocently at the impatient Tallest at the other side of the table. "Beg your pardon, my Tallest. I now know. However, do you not think that this would be of a slight…danger to your health? It is the route that your partner died on."

"You will refer to 'my partner' as the Almighty Tallest Purple. I do not care if he died on it. I'm taking the shortest route. That's final."

Ren's lips curved up in a smile. "Yes, we now realize that you won't change your mind. That is why we're going to switch out the Fourth Armored Division for the Elite Fleet."

Red's eyes widened. "The EF? That's not right. They belong on Irk!"

One of the advisors lowered his hood. "My Tallest, the EF Division is the only group of fighters that will be able to protect you if anything goes wrong."

"But they're supposed to be homeland security. I thought that Almighty Tallest Blue set the rule that the EFs are to stay on Irk at all times."

The advisors were silent until Mim spoke. "My Tallest, the EFs have no real combat training. Their pilots have never left the atmosphere of Irk, have never experienced enemy contact. What do you think will happen if much more of this continues? The EF Division will become soft and loose their sharp battling skills. When has Irk ever come close to being in contact with enemy planets? Almost never. Plus, the enemy has never broken the first defense ranks, and the EF Division is only used in last stands!"

Red eyed Mim skeptically. Mim's eyes flicked over to Ren, who was nodding approval, and then continued. "I don't think it would harm Irk to have the EFs go on a little detour, now would it?"

"No." Red said. "Homeland comes first and foremost. The EF Division is staying here."

The Advisors shifted uneasily in their seats. Red saw that he had them cornered. "You can never trust the enemy," he said slowly. "When a surprise attack does happen, the EF Division is the first to go out. You should know that. We're not in a war, people. I'm not compromising the fate of Irk just because you think I need protection! The Massive has enough firepower to blast away Irk's entire Armada—not that it would. I don't need any protection."

Ren rose up from his chair. "You will be leaving in a week," he said. "We must make sure all of the preparations are complete. Pass these down, Mim," he continued, handing her a small stack of papers. "My Tallest, please look over these documents and sign them. It would be for your greatest interest if you complied with us, which I must see fit to make you do. Thank you for your time."

The Advisory Board got out of their chairs and bowed to Red before preceding Ren out of the Tallest's office. Ren shot Red a look of contempt, Red crossed his fingers and pointed them down—the Irken version of flicking someone off—and Ren left the room.

"Horny bastard," Red spat. "Trying to send the homeland defense team away. I know what he's aiming for. Peprik! Get in here."

Peprik opened her door. Red tossed the papers to her. "Burn these. I'll be out."

His secretary smiled and closed her door. Red opened the side door to his office and slipped out into the hall. He could hear the muffled hum of voices in the meeting room next to his office—no doubt the advisors arguing over the meeting that they just had. Red opened the door to the outside and cruised straight over to the vootcruiser parked on the roof of the building. Getting in and revving up the engine, Red urged the craft to barrel off the roof and head, in an erratic flight path, to the Military Embassy on the other side of the city. He had to get there before the Advisory Board made their final verdict and overruled his decision to keep the EF Division on the planet's surface.

The Military Embassy was the heart of the Irken Armada. It was the base for all the military commanders to report to, the vootcruiser and vootrunner manufacturing facility, the Massive's docking bay—even PreTallests were decided in the hangar of the huge facility. Red veered to the back of the Massive's hangar and ran inside. "I want to see Commander Yoma!" he cried, his voice echoing through the giant hangar. A few of the workers stopped and looked at him; from far across the hangar a tall Irken stood up and waved his hand over his head. "Tallest Red! I am here, what is it you need?"

Red went to meet the Commander of the EF Division. "Yoma, listen to me. The Advisory Board is threatening to pull the EF Division along my little field trip for a year."

Yoma took a step backwards. "Are you mad, Red? Take the EF Division away from Irk?"

"It's true, Yoma. They told me at the meeting earlier. I told them no, but I think they're planning to override my decision. That's why I need you; if Ren comes over here, refuse to let him take the EF Division."

Yoma chewed his lower lip. "But…he's the Second-in-Command to you, sir. I can't disrespect his orders."

"You'd better, or else Irk is in for it. We've got more enemies than ever, you know that!"

A crash from above made Red and Yoma look up. The Massive, hovering over their heads, was being prepared to be lowered into the hangar for final adjustments and tune-ups. Yoma gestured to his office. "We'll be able to hear better in there," he yelled over the roar of the Massive's engines. "I need to know more about this."

The Tallest shook his head. "I have to get back, Yoma. The Board will suspect something if they find out I'm gone. Just tell them no. Tell them as many times as they ask. If you have to, shoot. Just don't let them take the defense team away!"

Red disappeared out of the hangar, leaving Commander Yoma to stand in the middle of the floor, staring after his Tallest. "What is going on?"

A few of Yoma's assistants came up beside him. "Sir? What is going on, sir?"

Yoma shook his head. "Our Tallest is being preyed upon by his own Advisory Board. Listen, spread this around. If anyone, anyone, tries to convince you to lead them to the pilots of the Elite Fleet, shoot them. Got it? Tell the pilots to be on their ware, as well."

Yoma's assistants looked at each other and shrugged. "Yes sir."

"You better do it quickly, too. Oh, and get Nim for me. He needs to be in on this as well."

Back at the capital, Peprik finished her sandwich and wiped the crumbs off of her desk. Heaving a contented sigh, she leaned back in her chair and put her hands behind her back. Red still hadn't come back. She was a little worried about what he would do about the whole situation, but Red had assured himself long ago that he would live forever. She smiled at the thought. She could hear the voices of the advisors in the opposite room, and she snorted in disgust. "Bunch of losers, they are," she said. "They wouldn't know loyalty if it slapped them in the face."

Peprik fingered her badge. It all seemed so long ago—she had been a practitioner, learning to get along in the difficult medical world. She had been yelled at to go get a patient to do samples on, and she had bumped into him—the Irken with the deepest violet eyes she had ever seen. Purple. Those four months were the most painful months of her life. When her Tallest closed his eyes for the last time, her world shattered. After she had left Red in that room, she had run blindly towards the supply room—she had meant to throw herself out of the airlock. She had ended up in a huge, dimly lit room. She couldn't see well at first—her vision was clouded with tears—but she fell against something cool, smooth, and hard. Immediately the thing was lit up, and as Peprik realized what it was, she screamed. A limp, tall Irken in Tallest's clothing was upright in a tube of fluid, his gray eyes dim and blank. The sound of her scream reverberated throughout the room, but nothing else happened. She had gotten up and walked timidly towards the dead Irken. A label of the person was on a plaque by her feet: she had bent to read it. "The Almighty Tallest Gray, Founder of the Fourth Empire."

"A Tallest?" she had breathed. "Here…?"

Feeling along the edges of the walls, Peprik had found a light pad. Pressing the pad with her finger, Peprik illuminated the whole room. She turned around and swallowed—hard. Two entire walls were lined with the bodies of dead Tallests. On the other two, more spaces awaited dead leaders. She stepped back, amazed. So many colors, and all of the Tallests were so carefully preserved. Then, the image of Purple came rushing back to her, and she had slumped against the wall. A strong arm grasped her arm and propped her up. She had looked up and had seen Red staring down at her with grieved eyes. "Why did you come here?" he had asked quietly, looking around. "Here, of all places?"

Peprik had mumbled, "I was looking for the airlock."

Red had glared daggers at her, but picked her up and let her sob in his arms. He had stared at the empty tube next to the last Tallest who had died, then his gaze returned to her face.

"You're going to be fine. Stop crying, okay? I don't like to see girls cry…"

Red had given Peprik the job of being his secretary because he said, "It was safer than being a doctor." She didn't mind it much—she got to be near Red. "Even though he is a big idiot," she reasoned to herself, "he does have some good points."

Suddenly, the door opened. Peprik shook herself out of her trance and stared at her visitor. "What do you want, Mim?"

Mim smiled cunningly at Peprik. "Oh, I just wanted to finish our conversation, Peprik." Her hands clasped behind her back.

Peprik eyed Mim suspiciously. "What do we need to finish?"

Mim gasped. "Oh, you forgot already! Silly little girl. Why, our conversation from yesterday! About why Red pulled you away from the medical business."

"I don't need to know."

Mim leaned over the edge of the desk and stared into Peprik's eyes. Mim's flowery perfume pervaded the air around her. "Yes, you do, honey. You honestly think he just made you his secretary because he had a liking to you?"

Peprik scowled. "That's none of your business!"

"Well, I think you do. And that's not right. You see, when Violet died—"

"His name was Purple, you retard!"

Mim bit the inside of her cheek to keep her short temper from exploding. "Well, Purple then. When Purple died, Red didn't want to be questioned about his death. You know that they had many fights during their first years, right? Good. We advisors were going to question the people who knew most about Purple's death, to get to the bottom of the matter, and since you and he were the only ones that really knew anything about the disease-thingy, Red made you his secretary so we couldn't ask you. Therefore, he wouldn't get in trouble."

"That's a lie!"

Mim nodded and chucked Peprik under her chin. "Oh, honey. But it isn't!"

"RED DID NOT KILL PURPLE!"

Mim shrugged. "Who knows? I helped Red get out of the mess of being questioned, so I'm not the bad guy. Just wanted to let you know, my dear." Mim turned around and strolled out of the room. "I'll talk to you some more if you want, Pep. But just let that thought sink into your head for a little while, eh? Buh-bye!"

Peprik sat, motionless, at her desk as Mim walked out of the room, snickering.

"Something is really wrong here…"

End of Two—More Action Next!