Author's notes: Kerry Stubbs is the creator of the characters Kiara 'Lark' Rutledge and Neil 'Fox' Lockhart, as well as James "Jay" Heyward Johnson IV and Darryl "Chief" Watts from the team at the Passages. Kerry has written many stories about these characters, with one story in particular dealing with Lark's reaction to Pilot's death. This story is titled "Thru the Valley" and appears at wwwDOTcaptainpowerDOTcom. (Sneaky, I know.) Once there, click on the "Captain Power Fan Fiction Archive" link. "Thru the Valley" can be accessed there.

I greatly appreciate her agreement to let me use these characters within this story. They will all appear more in subsequent chapters.

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47-12 Mark 25; 0921 Hours

Stuart Power stood before the three remaining members of the Council, struggling to maintain his composure as his mind churned through the events of the past ten hours.

The foundation that he'd laid fifteen years earlier would be broken if he chose the wrong words now.

"Who sent you the message?" Stanton Sheppard asked coolly. "And I trust you will tell us the truth on this, Stuart. I don't need to remind you that Corporal Chase's well-being is in a critical state at the moment."

Power's eyes flicked to the remaining two members of the Council, Josef Kowalczyk and Stephen Badasu, who had been silent to this point. They remained as stoic as they'd been throughout the meeting, though their eyes still drilled straight through him with their intensity.

Stuart's mouth was dry; his hands cold. He knew what the Council was capable of doing, knew that Sheppard meant the threat that had been leveled against Chase. His voice was clear when he spoke. "Claire Wheeler."

"And who is Claire Wheeler?" The irritation at having to ask the question was subtle, but present, in Sheppard's voice.

"One of the highest ranking overunits within the medical corps in the Dread empire." Power held firm. The slight shift in their eyes told him he'd caught the Council off guard with his response.

Sheppard continued, "And what is Overunit Wheeler's interest in Corporal Chase?"

"Biologically, she is the mother of Corporal Chase."

The daggers returned in the eyes of the men before him.

Stuart forced down the nausea that crept up his throat. He had to give just enough information to keep Jennifer alive. And not a word more.

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47-12 Mark 26; 1451 Hours

Overunit Claire Wheeler stood silently at the console, her gray eyes focused on the panel in front of her. The readings were just as they'd been the previous one hundred and twelve times she'd checked them – all within normal parameters. She confirmed her review of the diagnostic data with a single stroke of the keypad, watched as her signature appeared on the screen.

Her eyes moved from the screen to the form on the table several feet away. The light from the room glinted off the shiny black exterior from every direction.

This was the culmination of nearly two decades of research by dozens of the brightest people throughout the world, some who had willingly sacrificed themselves to advance the cause. Without their dedication, this moment would not have been realized.

The cerebral transfer from the organic body of Lyman Taggart to the fully mechanized Lord Dread had been difficult at best. Though the simulation of the procedure had been successfully completed hundreds of times, a simulation was not the real thing. She had tried to impress that upon the assisting personnel, including the two Overunits who were superior in rank to her. Her speaking out of turn had nearly been deemed insubordination, but due to the nature of the task, she had been spared a reprimand. Though she had felt confident in the abilities of her colleagues, she inwardly questioned her own prowess as a surgeon.

Her fears had gone unshared and in the end, had been unwarranted. The transfer procedure had been as mentally and physically challenging as the simulations had indicated. Several of the negative scenarios that had been raised in the simulations were encountered in the actual transfer. Though the personnel had been somewhat shaken, they had been prepared for all possibilities. They had completed their work and begun the process of monitoring the recovery of what was now a fully mechanized Lord Dread.

Wheeler herself had been scrutinizing the systems since the surgery had been completed and would continue to do so for the first twenty-four hours. Though exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm her senses, she pressed forth, knowing that she herself was being monitored by others loyal to Dread. If she showed any chink in her armor, she would be brought down, like so many others before her.

Her eyes shifted to the countdown on the monitor. Sixty-five hours and thirty-seven minutes remained.

The minimum amount of time needed for stabilization of the organic matter with the data exchange matrix had been calculated to be sixty-seven hours. Nearly three days. Optimal conditions would be achieved within an additional forty-three hours if the machine remained in "sleep" mode; that had been deemed unacceptable by Dread when the simulations had first been initiated.

Wheeler and her team had continued to modify the system until the same results were achieved while the "body" was active.

Dread had been displeased by the sustained necessity of the initial stabilization phase, but likened it to the resurrection of the Christian deity, Jesus Christ. The physical body of the "son of God" had been struck down and three days later, had been transformed into a being that was no longer ruled by death.

The words he'd said to Wheeler at that time still made her blood run cold.

"I shall be the manifestation of the fictitious Jesus Christ. I shall be the proof that there is a savior for mankind. And I shall lead my people into a new world, where suffering and death shall no longer be a burden," he had said, his remaining eye piercing through her.

She'd said nothing, as she'd learned so many years before. She hadn't flinched when Dread had indicated the transfer would be completed on the day that had long been celebrated as the birth of Jesus.

Her eyes flicked to the body at the far side of the room, connected to the life support machines. Taggart's shell would remain there until all situations had been resolved. She signed off on her assessment of the physical condition of the body before allowing her thoughts to wander.

Stuart, why haven't you answered? Where is Ari?

She knew she'd sent the message hastily, but had checked to ensure all safeguards were in place.

An ache now coursed through her with each beat of her heart. One unlike anything she'd felt before; not even when she'd handed over her daughter to be raised in the ranks of the Dread Youth as a sign of her loyalty to the Dread empire.

She'd been able to monitor the little girl during those early years, though it had been surreptitiously. As the girl had grown and risen in the ranks of the Dread Youth, there had been occasional contact through lectures and work assignments. The physical resemblance between mother and daughter was profound, with only hair and eye color differing. She knew Ari recognized her, but there had been no acknowledgement of their relationship.

It was not the will of the machine to allow concern for the welfare of offspring.

When she'd heard of the young woman's desertion during a heated battle with Captain Power's team, Wheeler had been shocked. At the news that her daughter had joined Power's team, the shock had turned to disbelief.

And now, as she stood at her station, a mind-numbing grief was rushing to the surface. Damn the will of the machine. I'm still human and you're still my daughter.

Dammit Ari! Where are you?!

The doors to the medical unit slid apart nearly silently, shaking her from the forbidden thoughts.

Wheeler felt her face flush slightly at the presence of the male Overunit. His blue eyes locked on hers and his voice was emotionless when he spoke.

"Power's base has been destroyed. Blastarr has been recovered from the wreckage, in pieces too many to count. Regeneration has already begun. Time to completion is unknown. We were unable to find any human remains, but from the blood found at the site of the last known transmission that was intercepted, it is certain that Corporal Chase did not survive. Based on information found at the base, we have reason to believe Power and his team made it there shortly after the explosions began. It is likely they removed the body."

Claire simply stood at attention, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Lord Dread will be informed of the raid outcome as soon as he is cognizant." The overunit's eyes held hers as he backed slowly from the room. She saw a single tear escape down his cheek before the doors closed and blocked him from view.

Had the surveillance monitors not been in place, Wheeler would have crumbled immediately. Instead, she locked down the pain that had been unleashed, desperately trying to push it back into the corners of her mind until the time and place were safe.

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47-12 Mark 26; 1917 Hours

The team had been intercepted on their way to the Passages by a distress call from the UTO. Dread's forces had stumbled upon an encampment hidden in a bombed out oil refinery in what had been a Dallas suburb. All forces in the vicinity had been called upon to provide whatever cover fire and evacuation measures they could provide. Hawk had set in the course immediately, and the team had helped obliterate the ground troops while the UTO squadrons laid waste to Dread's air forces. Several UTO fighters had been hit but remained operable, the pilots uninjured. The jumpship, already in poor condition after the attack at the transit gate, had taken a thorough beating from Dread's ground forces, yet somehow managed to remain flight-capable.

Through it all, none of them had said a word about their loss. They'd done their jobs, plowing through their grief to help those that could still be saved. With the wounded numbering in the dozens, the sudden influx of new arrivals at the Passages would have strained their already limited resources. Those survivors with only superficial wounds or the uninjured were taken to settlements in the southern regions where they would start to pick up the pieces of their already broken lives.

When the jumpship had finally limped into the Passages, it had been nearly twenty-four hours after Dread's troops had entered the base. They were exhausted and numb, unsure of what their next step would be, but knowing they had to regroup somewhere. Hawk said little to the night crew in the hangar, explaining only that they needed to make repairs and refuel.

When he'd ducked back inside the ship, Masterson looked at each of them in turn. "We need to lay low for the next few hours. I don't want the residents to panic. If they find out we're here and what went on out there…" he trailed off, his expression grim. "We're going to need some time to pull a few things together. Weapons, rations, clothes. Find a new place to set up as a temporary base until we can locate something more permanent."

He looked toward the front of the ship for only a moment. "I'm going to nose around and see what I can find. Stay here. I don't want to draw any undue attention." And then he left.

Power had been sitting on the stairs leading to the cargo hold and vanished down them seconds after Masterson had gone.

Scout looked at Tank but said nothing. Not five minutes later, as the two were surveying the damage to the navigation system, footsteps sounded behind them. Both looked up at the clatter of metal and plastic, just in time to see Power's gun belt, crysblade and handful of laser stars land on the command chair in the center of the ship and Power head for the door.

Tank quickly placed a hand on Power's shoulder, restraining him just as he reached the hatch.

Power stopped, then turned to look at them. His jaw was set, as if daring them to question him.

But his eyes betrayed him. Instead of the defiance that appeared on his face, his eyes burned with the loss that remained locked inside.

"Captain, don't do this. Just stay here." Baker kept his tone level.

"Give me one good reason why, Sergeant."

Scout pulled out anything that popped into his head. "You're a trusted leader in the resistance. The rest of the groups look to you for guidance and we can't lose that commitment from them. We need your expertise on Taggart himself. You've got knowledge about him that none of us have. You've proven time and again that you can stop him at every turn. Civilians trust you implicitly and explicitly. You've saved so many of them. You're a hero and they all look to you as the one who will bring down Dread."

"I didn't stop him at every turn." Power yanked free of Tank's hold and barreled down the gangway of the jumpship.

Scout leaped from his seat in pursuit, only to be stopped by Ellis.

"Let him go. We'll only create a scene if we try to bring him back. We can home in on his suit, track him."

Scout reluctantly returned to his station and began to work.

Almost an hour later, Hawk returned and quickly searched the interior cabin as well as the hold. He returned and point blank asked, "Where's Jon?"

They explained what transpired after he had left, unprepared for the explosion that followed.

"What the hell did I say? I didn't think I had to give a direct order for you to stay on the damn ship!" The older man slammed his fist against one of the jumpship's interior panels, leaving a small dent in the wake of his anger.

"Hawk, you didn't see him!" Scout protested. "If we hadn't let him go, he'd probably have pulled his blaster and used it on himself right then."

"Why do you think I wanted the three of you to stay here together? Hawk started pacing. "I know what he looked like, I know what he's feeling and I know the desires that are going through his mind right now! For God's sake, the man has just lost his reason to live and you two let him wander off on his own to do God knows what!"

Neither Scout nor Tank knew what to say.

"Please tell me you at least tried to track him."

"He's blocking the homing unit on his suit." Scout had tried unsuccessfully for almost the entire hour to remove the jamming signals that Power had somehow initiated.

Hawk swore in disbelief as he smashed his fist against the wall once again. "Oh that's just great! Did you at least think to check him for any hidden weapons before you let him walk out of here?"

"Leave them alone, Matt."

They all turned at the sound of Power's voice. He'd appeared just inside the hatch, his expression blank.

Hawk had started to speak, but stopped and simply stared at Power.

"I'm not going to kill myself. Or anyone else." His voice was filled with sincerity, though his eyes had become vacant. "I take that back. I am going to kill Dread when I get my hands on him."

For nearly a minute, there was silence in the cabin of the ship as Power stared at Masterson.

When Hawk finally spoke, there was an eerie calmness to his voice. "I'm not going to mince words. Anything like this happens again, you're all going to see me get very angry. And I really hate getting angry. Is that understood?"

They all nodded.

As if closing the door on the subject, Hawk quietly handed out their room assignments, in the adjacent housing wing for the pilots and mechanics. With the late hour, they would all be able to slip in without being noticed. To ensure they would sleep, he injected each of them with a sedative before ordering them to their rooms.

When Scout awakened five hours later, he looked across the small room he shared with the captain and found the bunk next to him empty. Power had already risen from the forced rest and disappeared. Shaking his head, Scout yanked on his boots and went back to the hangar, carefully avoiding the stares of anyone he passed. He didn't want to talk about what had taken place. Not yet. Rumors were already circulating within the small group of pilots and mechanics and he knew they would have to face the reality of the situation soon enough.

He holed himself up on the jumpship and began the process of setting up the ship's computer circuitry to interface with Mentor's systems. It was tedious work; they'd previously kept in contact with Mentor through a scrambled frequency between the jumpship and the base. Setting up Mentor's advanced systems on the jumpship's already jury-rigged circuits proved to be a nightmare and he lost himself in the work until one particularly over-used circuit panel blew out completely, sending sparks flying.

Scout sat down in his seat and surveyed the damage, deep in thought and disgusted with himself for not being able to complete what should have been a routine project. "Pilot? Do we have any more of these integrated circuit chips?" he asked absently and waited a moment for her reply, only to realize that he was alone in the ship. And that Jennifer Chase was no longer there to work her magic. He found himself looking at the back of her seat. He then slammed his fist down on the console.

"Dammit Pilot, we were twelve minutes away! You could have waited for us!We could have taken out that damn BioDread, set a detonator with a timer and gotten out as a team!" He was nearly yelling at her vacant chair. "You didn't have to act alone! We're a team," he repeated, anguish filling his voice. "Why couldn't you remember that?" He trailed off, grimly staring at the monitor in front of him. "We still need you." Tears of frustration, anger and sadness sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision.

He was suddenly aware of someone standing near the command chair and turned.

"I heard yelling. Didn't know if there was trouble." Hawk's voice was quiet yet filled with tension. Masterson didn't move from where he leaned against the frame of the chair.

Scout was unable to control his anger any longer. "Hell yes there's trouble! If you haven't noticed, we're without a base, we've lost Pilot and the captain might as well be gone too! We have no way to recharge our suits! We can't corroborate anything regarding Cypher's whereabouts! And I can't get this damned ship to cooperate for two seconds in order to get the circuits aligned properly!" He threw the spanner on the floor in utter frustration. "Is that enough or shall I continue?!"

Hawk merely stood there, allowing the younger man to rage. In the five years that he'd known Scout, he'd never seen him react this way, never seen him use anything other than humor to diffuse a situation. "I can see your point pretty clearly, kid."

"Don't call me that!" Scout snapped. "That's what you called her."

Matt closed his eyes and rubbed wearily at his face. Scout was right. He had called her 'kid'. The younger man's voice broke into his thoughts, apologetic.

"Hawk, I'm sorry. I just…I'm trying to make sense out of this." Scout's brown eyes were troubled as he stared at the ceiling, hands locked behind his head. "Why didn't she wait for us? Why did Blastarr kill her instead of digitizing her? How did it come to this?" He gestured to the disarray of tools and supplies scattered around the interior of the jumpship.

Hawk kneaded the tense muscles in his neck before he spoke. "Jennifer wanted what was best for the team." He silenced the younger man's protests with a shake of his head. "That's why she sent out the suits. That's why she downloaded Mentor and sent him out. The team needs to continue on, because if we don't, Dread is going wipe out everything we've been struggling to protect. We all would have done the same thing. And you know that." Matt continued. "That girl would rather have died than be digitized. She knew the information locked inside her head would destroy the resistance if Dread got his hands on it. She's seen first hand what that monster is capable of doing. She probably deliberately got Blastarr to fire at her to get rid of that possibility."

Hawk stepped over some cables and tools as he made his way to the front of the cabin. He sagged into his seat, staring at the chair beside him. "I've already talked to Tank, and you need to hear this as well. Jon is in no condition to resume command of the team. I can barely get him to acknowledge my presence, and he hasn't said a word to anyone else." Masterson stopped a moment, his eyes still fixed on Pilot's seat. "He's worse now than when he lost his father. And that was bad enough. At least back then we had the base and the war to focus on. Now…" he trailed off.

Scout watched him, knowing that his own tantrum had just added to the burden the older man already carried.

Masterson took a deep breath and continued. "Now we've got to get a plan together, with or without Jon." He saw Scout's startled look. "Rob, this is a war. We can't drop everything and mourn Jennifer. Dread is still out there and we don't know what information he has on us. Rumors are starting to fly around here, so we have to set the record straight to keep panic from setting in. I've asked Jay to get his team together so we can come up with something to get us headed in the right direction."

"Does he know what's going on?" Scout knew that the commanding officer of the pilots at the Passages would have picked up on any small bit of information that was passing through his unit.

Hawk nodded. "I told him as soon as we pulled in this morning and asked him to keep his mouth shut until we had a chance to get some rest." He stopped, looking down at the floor. "When I left this morning, it wasn't just to talk with Jay. It was to find Lark also. I couldn't let her hear it through rumors."

Scout closed his eyes, Sergeant Kiara Rutledge's face flashing into his mind. He knew the young woman's friendship with Pilot had started almost immediately after they'd met nearly three years prior and that they had become almost inseparable during the little time they had on their stops at the Passages. Lark had become the sister Pilot never had. And he had forgotten that someone would need to talk to her, explain what had happened, try to pick up the pieces of yet another loss in her life.

"How is she handling it?"

"Not well." Matt wearily looked at Baker, remembering the way Kiara's fist had inadvertently connected with his jaw in her fit of despair at his news. "But she'll make it. She somehow always manages to pull through shit like this. And she'll probably drag all of us with her, although I'm not sure even she could get through to Jon."

Both were silent for nearly a minute. Matt leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, locking his hands together in front of his mouth. After blowing out a deep breath, he spoke. "So what's the status of the ship?"

Scout looked around, a pained expression crossing his face. "We're stuck here for awhile. Electrical's fried in four locations, stabilizers are out, weapons are off-line. We took a beating in that rescue mission."

"How long before you can get Mentor on-line?"

The younger man shook his head. "I don't have any estimate. With the way the electrical system is right now, I don't want to risk losing him too."

Hawk nodded, then stood. "Keep me updated. Tank's on his way here. Just tell him what needs to be done and he'll take care of it." He headed for the hatch. "We're briefing Jay's team at 2030 hours."

Scout nodded and watched as he left, then turned back to the still charred circuit panel.

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47-12 Mark 26; 2030 Hours

Hawk leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as the pilots and mechanics assembled in the briefing room. Some sat, some stood, but they all looked between Masterson and the rest of the Power team, seated off to the side. The room was a relatively large size for the normally cramped quarters of the Passages, but with the addition of the four members of the Power team and the heaviness in the air, the walls seemed to be closing in on them.

Hawk's eyes caught on one of the pilots as he entered. "Fox." He moved forward to intercept the man before he was able to take a seat.

Neil Lockhart stopped near the door, acknowledging Masterson with a nod.

"How's Lark doing?" Matt asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fox kept his expression passive. "She's stopped throwing things."

Matt closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry Neil. I just couldn't let her hear it through a group meeting like this."

"Don't apologize Hawk. You did the right thing."

Masterson was silent. Lockhart had never been one to talk much and now, his voice was tight yet filled with sincerity. But Hawk saw the pain in the younger man's eyes and knew it wasn't just from the loss of a comrade. Fox would now have to watch the woman he loved struggle to go on after losing one of her dearest friends. It was yet another battle to fight.

Lockhart nodded again, his jaw set as he made his way to an open chair in the corner.

Matt hesitated only a second before returning to the front of the room. If the eyes of the pilots and mechanics hadn't been on him before, they were certainly fixed on him now.

The commander of the team at the Passages, James Heyward Johnson IV, stood beside Masterson, his body accustomed to standing at attention instead of the more relaxed stance of his colleague. Over the years, he'd found that the ragtag group of pilots under his command were better kept under control when he maintained a modicum of decorum. His soldiers knew that he didn't get the name "Jay" for his initials alone. When provoked, his temper could flare as nasty as the long extinct blue jay. The threat of a dressing down by their commanding officer was enough to keep the group in line and Johnson had no desire to change that rumor by a slip in his stance.

James did a quick head count, then nodded to Matt. "They're all yours."

Hawk acknowledged him before drawing in a deep breath. "I'm sure you've all heard the rumors and are starting to put two and two together." He stopped, then pushed forward, wanting to get through this as quickly as possible. "Dread found our base and invaded. Pilot was inside when it happened. She set the autodestruct, but it failed and she…" he trailed off, clenching his jaw. His focus narrowed on a hole in the wall at the back of the room. Stare at the hole and just get through this, Matt. "Jennifer blew the power core herself. The base is gone." Jennifer is dead. Though the thought was constantly running through his head, he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"And so is Pilot," someone said softly from the back of the room.

Masterson forced himself to look the man in the eyes, struggling to remember the name of the most recent addition to Jay's team. Renegade? He could only remember the man's call sign.

"Yes." Hawk saw the reactions, heard the swearing.

He sounded weary when he spoke. "She gave it everything she had. That's the way she's been as long as we've known her. Jennifer was one of the best pilots that I've had the pleasure to fly with. She was a friend to damn near everyone in this room. I know a couple of you newbies didn't get a chance to know her, but she was a great kid." He felt tears welling up in his eyes and knew that he would have to stop if he hoped to keep his composure.

"But she did what had to be done." He willed his voice to become strong again. "We'd probably all be dead right now if she hadn't."

"Are you sure she's dead? What if she somehow managed to make it through – "

Hawk cut off the young dark-haired pilot. "We're sure Jessie. She was in the control room."

Jessica Langley's shoulders slumped, understanding the implication of his carefully chosen words. She shook her head slightly as her eyes closed. "Dread's gonna pay for this."

More muttering filtered to the front of the room and this time Hawk didn't stop it.

When the room had quieted again, Masterson spoke clearly, though his words were haunted. "We're in a pretty desperate situation right now. Dread's forces did a number on the jumpship and it's in need of a massive overhaul. We've got only the supplies that are stored on the ship. Our suits are running low on charge. We've got no place to go." He chanced a look at the rest of his team; none of the three would meet his gaze. Power had fixed his stony stare on the wall on the opposite side of the room. "I think it's safe to say we're close to the breaking point."

This time, a tall, slightly balding man in his late forties spoke, his tone quiet but firm. Hawk recognized him as Darryl Watts, overseer of the mechanical crew at the Passages. "Chief" to those assigned duty to him. "You're not giving up this fight. My team will get the jumpship in working order again. We'll need a few days, maybe a week depending on the parts, but it'll be good as new."

Hawk looked at Scout, who nodded gratefully at the mechanic. "I'd appreciate it. Pilot and I have jury-rigged that crate so many times it's almost like Frankenstein. I'm getting through some of the circuitry, but it's slow going without her expertise. It's her ship…she knew it inside and out." The pain and regret were apparent in his voice.

Darryl acknowledged the young man. "We'll do our best with it."

The room grew silent and the tension was almost unbearable.

Matt continued on. "We've heard from a reliable source that Cypher, from Angel City Resistance, has been captured. We've been trying to raise his group on the comm to verify this, but we can't break through to them. Pilot was analyzing a data disk from our source when Blastarr attacked. Once we get Mentor online in the jumpship we might get more information, but that could take some time, given the current electrical situation in the ship. We can't run the risk of frying Mentor."

Jay nodded to Hawk. "We'll get the crew over in communications working on this. If we can't reach them via remote devices, we'll send out a recon team to determine the situation."

Masterson cleared his throat from the sudden lump that had formed. "Then that pretty much covers the basics. I know word will spread through the Passages faster than that influenza outbreak a few months back, but please try to make sure that any information you hear is correct. The situation we have is bad enough. I don't want people to panic because they've heard something that's not true."

When Hawk fell silent, Jay stepped forward. "Dread's troop activities have slowed over the past twelve hours. Aside from that attack on the southern camp, we've picked up nothing else. Either he's gloating over the Power Base or he's planning a major offensive. We need to be ready when he does show up again and we need to make sure that these gentlemen are along for the fight. Dismissed."

The pilots and flight crew slowly left the room, each of them extending their condolences to the men who were now fighting the war on a far more personal level.

Hawk silently watched Jonathan. The younger man barely looked up, merely nodding in the direction of those who attempted to speak to him. When the room had finally emptied, Power left without a sound.

"We're going back to the jumpship," Scout said to Hawk from the seat he'd been in during the briefing. "We can let Chief know what we've already found and what parts we need."

Hawk nodded.

When they'd left, he sat down on the edge of the table and breathed out deeply.

"Do you think the kid is going to make it?" Jay asked warily.

Hawk raised an eyebrow. "Damn good question. I've been asking myself the same thing since we found Jennifer."

"There was something between them." Johnson didn't pose it as a question. "It's one thing to take the death of a comrade hard. He looks like he wants to die himself."

Matt rubbed his neck. "Those two didn't want to admit it to themselves when they had a chance, but Jennifer finally told him how she felt right before the BioDread came in the room." He continued after a pause. "Dammit Jay, we all saw it, but none of us forced them to get it out in the open."

"Feelings have to take a backseat in a war and Power is going to have to realize that. We need your suits too badly to lose him as well as Pilot. No one else can take that suit and use it. It's tuned to Power and he's going to have to get his act together soon." The truth was cold, heartless. But it was the truth nonetheless.

Johnson walked to the door, stopping with a hand on the jamb. "You let me know if you want me to talk to him."

"I will," Hawk replied softy. Only as a last resort.

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47-12 Mark 27; 0347 Hours

Jennifer felt consciousness slowly return, her mind hazy. She willed her body to remain still. Random thoughts ran rampant through her mind and she struggled to piece together what had happened.

Alarms sounding…the base..Cypher taken…get the suits and Mentor out…I love you Jon…Blastarr is inside…Get out NOW…need to set the autodestruct…STAY CLEAR…SHIT – autodestruct failed…seal the blast doors…I need you guys to get here…HELP ME…disk has no information…GO TO HELL…was this a setup…Jon don't let it digitize me…

Have I been digitized? Am I inside Overmind? The thoughts raged inside even as she became aware of the pain that radiated through her body.

I can feel pain. Should I feel anything in my body if I've been digitized? It was a thought almost filled with wonder and she forced herself to focus on the pain, to assess the physical damage.

Her abdomen ached, as if muscles had been pulled apart and put back together. Her skin itched, from her abdomen to her chest. Her lungs hurt with each breath she took. Her throat was dry and sore and she found herself longing for some cool water.

She remembered being in a battle; she'd always been sore after being shot. The power suit prevented her skin from being damaged by the blasts, but the armor could only protect so much from blunt force trauma. But this was more than just the trauma induced by blasts from a BioMech or even a BioDread.

Her mind began to clear slightly. She'd been at the base. Blastarr had found a way inside and she was facing the beast alone. She'd been in the power core room. Jon's voice…it had been so comforting just to hear him speak. He'd said they were on their way, but he'd sounded so afraid. He knew she'd taken a beating and he knew what she was about to do. She'd pressed the final button to detonate the charges just as the whining began. She remembered the beam surrounding her and seeing someone's face – Jon? – an instant before the intense pain overwhelmed her senses. Am I still inside Blastarr?

A dull hum found its way to her brain and she turned her attention to her surroundings, though her eyes were still closed. The hum was the only sound in the room. She recognized the sound - it was an air purifier, meant to remove particulates to keep the machines clean and in proper working order. She'd spent a day, early in her training in the Dread Youth, learning the rather simplistic design of the large units, knowing that without them, the viability of some of the most sensitive pieces of equipment at Volcania would be in danger.

She lay silently, trying to keep the panic from breaking free. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. The pain she felt in her abdomen was from injuries sustained in her fight against Blastarr. She remembered hurting deep within her gut even before she'd had the final confrontation with the BioDread. The itching was likely from incisions that were healing. Incisions that had been made to repair the internal damage she'd sustained in that last battle.

She had been retrieved from within Blastarr's digitizer. She was in Volcania.

She'd heard rumors of rebels who had been digitized while injured, then brought to outposts where they were healed, only to find themselves mentally and physically tortured in an attempt to extract any relevant information about the Resistance. Even if the person held nothing of use, he or she was tortured simply for being one who was against the machine.

She knew they wouldn't waste their time sending her to an outpost. Dread would want the pleasure of inflicting pain himself. For her desertion from his ranks. For joining not only the resistance, but Jonathan Power's team. For defying the will of the machine and fighting for humanity.

Her gut began to roil as another realization fully hit her. I saw someone right before I was digitized. I wasn't alone in the base with Blastarr when it blew! no no no no NO! I told all of you to stay clear!

What little hope remaining within Jennifer Chase vanished as doors slid apart. Pulling all the training she'd learned from her experience in the Dread Youth, she locked down the horrific thought and focused on the more immediate threat.

Her finely tuned sense of hearing picked up two sets of human feet and two nonhuman sets – likely BioMechs. One human advanced and Jennifer remained still, though instinct screamed at her to run.

A pair of fingers pressed at the carotid artery on the right side of her throat, searching for a pulse. Fifteen seconds later, Jennifer felt something cold press against the same artery, followed by a pinch and a hiss. She flinched involuntarily at the unexpected pain and felt warmth spread down her neck and into her chest. Within a minute, the pain in her body began to recede. The person at her side checked her pulse again, then took several steps backward.

The mech feet advanced and Jennifer felt their hands under her arms, forcing her to stand upright. She didn't resist them, yet didn't cooperate either. Dizziness and nausea from the sudden change in position were her more immediate concerns and she breathed slowly to combat the symptoms. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow down. In, out. In, out.

"Youth Leader Chase."

The voice caught her off guard and her eyes snapped open. Panic accompanied the dizziness and nausea. Had the Mechs not been holding her, she doubted she'd have stayed on her feet.

A man and woman stood before her. Jennifer had always assumed if she ever unwillingly returned to Volcania, she would be brought before them. That knowledge didn't change the surprise she felt at their presence.

Dread's chief technology advisor was nearly a legend among not only the Dread Youth, but among those who had reached the highest rank of overunit as well. He had been under the guidance of Lyman Taggart himself and had been instrumental in establishing the pathways that enabled a human mind to link with a computer, resulting in the Overmind.

"It's good to see you've not forgotten your name." His blue eyes were hard and the fine lines around them made him appear that much more intense. "Welcome home, Arianna."

Jennifer met the man's greeting with an icy stare.

"Is that any way to greet your father? Without so much as a 'hello'?" Overunit Kendall Chase smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were unreadable, as they'd been throughout the handful of times she'd met him. "At least say hello to your mother." He gestured to the woman beside himself.

Jennifer's eyes never left his face. "I may be the product of your sperm and egg, but that doesn't make you my father and mother." A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth to match his. "You gave up any right as my parents when you handed me over to be raised by machines. So with all due respect, Overunits Chase and Wheeler, you can drop the appeal to my more sensitive side. It doesn't suit you at all."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Arianna, you were the result of an act of love between your mother and I –"

Jennifer cut him off. "There's no such thing as love here in this world. You of all people should know that, Overunit Chase. Emotions are the enemy of the machine. Or did you forget that?"

"You would be well advised to hold your tongue. Lord Dread has allowed us to speak with you – to give you the opportunity to reform your ways and return to the path that will lead you to the only true freedom that exists." Chase spoke firmly, his voice edged with anger.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe that load of bullshit anymore." Jennifer didn't know if it was the medication she'd been given, the futility of the situation, or the desire to lash out at the two people who had given her away to an emotionless life, but the words tumbled out before she could stop herself.

Wheeler spoke for the first time. "Youth Leader Chase, you should be dead right now. The injuries you sustained in the attack on the Power Base were lethal, yet Lord Dread saw fit to have you resuscitated when your body failed."

"Gee, thanks," Pilot sarcastically said.

"Silence!" Kendall took a step forward, his hands fisted at his sides.

Jennifer once again felt her stomach crawl up into her throat at the sudden outburst, yet she merely stared at him. If silence is what you want, silence is what you'll get.

"Lord Dread is giving you a choice. You may return to your unit in the Youth Corps or you may continue to ally yourself with the Organics. I suggest you give careful consideration to this decision." Chase crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at her.

Several minutes passed, the hum of the air purifier the only sound in the room.

"What have you decided?" Chase finally asked. When she didn't respond, his eyes narrowed on her. "You would choose those worthless vermin over the opportunity for eternal life?"

A sharp smack to the side of her head made lights streak across her vision, yet Jennifer said nothing. In spite of the pain reliever that had been administered, her head began to throb.

Wheeler's voice was firm, unforgiving. "You have been given a small dose of a powerful prostaglandin inhibitor to alleviate your pain. Realize that it can be taken away with your refusal to cooperate." She stopped to allow the younger woman time to absorb her words. "The pain you were in moments ago will seem like nothing in comparison to what you will endure if you do not renounce your alliance with the resistance."

Jennifer knew truer words had never been spoken.

Chase abruptly turned, preceding the BioMechs from the room.

"You have made a very poor choice, Arianna." Wheeler reached out a hand to touch Jennifer's hair, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Such a waste. You held such promise as a Youth Leader. And now look at you. You've become a disgrace to the Dread Empire."

The doors slid shut seconds after Wheeler exited the room.

Jennifer sank onto the mattress in an attempt to conserve every last ounce of energy. Please get me out of here Jon. Please…