Hubble Urick inserted a thin, metallic identity card into the scanner before the door to his personal apartment slid open. Having unenthusiastically entered the dimly lit room, he placed his suitcase by the wall, feeling all his muscles relax as the nerve-wracking day was finally coming to its end in the dead of the night. Sadly, the very fact did not soothe his troubled mind. Knowing all too well what could, he bowed to retrieve a bottle of bourbon from the drinks cabinet; and froze. Something had moved in the corridor which led to the dining room. His hand immediately slid down to reach for the gun.

'You know the rules,' a harsh masculine voice sounded right behind him. 'If you take out your gun, I'll take out mine, and then it all ends up the Clint Eastwood way.'

A wide grin brightened Hubble's tired face. 'I've never suspected you're into westerns, Major Kincaid,' he said as he straightened up with a half-empty, crystal bottle in his hand. 'Since I'm not really into the genre, would you care for a drink?'

Liam smiled at the offer as he returned the energy weapon to the pocket of his jacket. 'Not today. It's going to be a busy night for me.'

Hubble shrugged. 'I have heard,' he began, pouring the cold, amber-hued alcohol into his glass, 'you've got yourself in some serious, intergalactic trouble.'

'I had to get Da'an out of there. Vorjak is not the kind of person you can trust.'

'He's not the kind of person you can ignore either,' the FBI Director remarked. 'You're probably aware of his ultimatum, and being a patriot who doesn't want to see this country turned to ashes, I should probably have you arrested and delivered to the Jaridian High Command.'

Liam raised an eyebrow. 'We both know you're too smart to do that.'

'Am I?' Hubble's dark eyes narrowed.

The young man was by no means discouraged, although his face was showing far more confidence than he felt. 'With the Taelons gone, Jaridians were left with no-one powerful enough to restrain their appetite for conquest,' he said. 'It would be foolish of you to get rid of their last opponents, especially when Da'an has got the knowledge, and I – the means, even if limited, to make their life miserable.'

Hubble ensconced himself in an armchair. 'You're looking for allies then.'

'Aren't you?' Liam's emerald eyes gleamed in the dark.

The older man gazed at him, analysing his features before he took another sip of his bourbon. 'Now that you've got my attention, I'm all ears,' he said simply.


Da'an was thankful that humans required several hours of sleep and nearly all of them chose to enter this vulnerable state of mental unconsciousness when darkness befell their settlements. In the middle of the night the streets of Washington were almost empty; and he felt immense relief upon concluding that after all he was likely to reach the Embassy unseen.

The route was known to him from those far-off days when – determined to protect Liam from Zo'or's unpredictable intrigues – he had chosen to use a tracking device to know where his young Protector was at all times. In that point in time he had been striving to ensure the hybrid's safety, bearing in mind what fate the Synod Leader had prepared for his first Protector, William Boone. Of course, now he was well aware that Liam would not appreciate the gesture if he knew, but the detailed knowledge of the route which he had once used to reach the Embassy from his underground residence remained.

The distance to be covered was probably within the reach of every healthy human, and of most Taelons as well, but after half an hour of going on foot, Da'an began to experience discomfort and fatigue. Considering his condition, it did not come as a surprise. His unborn child was restless and determined to know what had driven its parent to abandon the warm, comfortable environment and exchange it for a strenuous walk in the dark. Gentle thoughts of reassurance were of little help when the diplomat himself could hardly keep his emotions under control.

For the first time in several hundred years… he was truly afraid.

Fear was an unusual sensation. He had almost forgotten it when his consciousness had been resting in the warm embrace of the Taelon Commonality. Even when imprisoned by the Jaridians, he had feared neither the agony of deliberately inflicted pain nor the passage into the next level, because his brethren had always been at the back of his mind to soothe whatever mental or physical strain he was to experience.

That night, however, he was alone.

Somehow he did not dread his own death at the hands of the Jaridians – he had known for years that his species stood no chance of winning the war, and had long accepted his fate. But his child… The instinct to protect his offspring was strong, calling to him to turn back and at least in some measure postpone the inevitable. His resolve not to succumb to his instincts barely managed to withstand their call, and against Da'an's wishes, the infant's apprehension continued to grow.

As he stopped and leaned on a nearby tree, the child quietly expressed its concern.

I am well, my child. Do not fret.

The infant's wordless emotional response carried a hint of uncertainty and sorrow, which Da'an unsuccessfully strove to soothe.

I regret there is no other way, he whispered through their mental link. No other way but this…

The infant's mental presence embraced his consciousness tightly, as if afraid to be separated from its parent's mind. Da'an smiled at the gesture, and mentally cuddled the unborn. It made a delighted sound which reminded the diplomat of squeaking, and slowly began to nibble at his pathways, drawing energy from its parent's system.

Instantly shielding his doubts from his child's mind, Da'an stiffened as the sudden loss of energy had almost left him on the verge of collapsing. In the gestation period Taelon infants needed roughly half the amount of energy his hybrid child required for its development. As the dark thought that he might not be physically capable of sustaining his offspring occurred to him, Da'an shoved it to the back of his mind. Little time was left until sunrise, and he needed to reach the Embassy before first rays of light speared the panorama of the human city.


Ronald Sandoval's dark eyes gleamed as he glanced at his global, analysing the data he was receiving from several drones equipped with energy-tracking sensors he had dispatched in less-favoured districts of the city. Liam Kincaid was reasonable enough to keep Da'an away from crowded places, so the Agent's choice of monitored areas was rather obvious – and he could not help a triumphant smirk when his logical assumption had finally paid off. Ten minutes earlier one of the sensors had registered traces of Taelon energy in the immediate vicinity of the Taelon Embassy – or whatever was left of it.

The alarm might still be false considering the fact that – being a great achievement of Taelon bioengineers – the building itself contained alien energy, but Sandoval was too vigilant to ignore even the least reliable lead. As the door of his car was slammed shut and the cool night air filled his lungs, his fatigued eyes gradually turned to orbs. He had not visited the Embassy ever since the invasion and only now realized the extent of the damage it had taken during the attack. Having been forced to defend the Mothership at the time, he had little cared about Taelon outposts on Earth, but now it occurred to him Da'an must have been defending the Embassy long past the point where surrendering had become the only reasonable option.

After several unsuccessful attempts to open the dented western gate, the man resisted the urge to instantly dismantle the damn thing with a skrill blast, and resigned himself to climbing up the fence. At that point he truly regretted giving up his usual workout routine. One careless move was enough for the sharp, metal edge of the protective barrier to cut into his hand. He winced, but quickly disregarded the sensation as the full extent of the destruction which had befallen the Taelon outpost was reflected in his dark eyes.

In the pale moonlight the once magnificent garden seemed underpinned by an undefinable, threatening quality. Pieces of the marble fountain were scattered all over the path accompanied by organic rubble and half-burnt trees – a deadly testimony to the power of Jaridian missiles. The man skilfully jumped down on the other side of the fence and paused for a moment, gazing at this apocalyptic scenery with an odd longing for a world which – though now shattered – continued its existence in the perfect memories preserved by his CVI.

A wistful grimace curved his lips. It occurred to him that despite all the pain he had suffered, the cybervirus implanted in his brain would never let him completely unlove that delicate, alien world of fragile beauty which many years ago Da'an had mesmerized him with.

Now that it was gone, the fear that Earth might soon mirror its fate cast a dark shadow on his thoughts. For years he had lived his life burning one bridge after another, leaving nothing but ashes in his wake. Driven by a desire to move on to a more promising future no matter the cost, so that one day the world would see him reaching that undefined aim, which could finally satisfy his unbridled ambition. Only that once his homeworld was destroyed… that final bridge burnt down… and the ultimate price paid…

…where would he go?

The wailing wind faded in the distance as the world left that question disturbingly unanswered.


Da'an shakily walked into the audience chamber. His human façade was barely visible as thin, white and blue lines of glowing energy shone their way through the illusion of his physical appearance. He tilted his head, observing pale moonlight descend upon the floor through a massive hole burnt in the purple roof by the lasers of a Jaridian fighter squadron. The bioslurry walls emanated their own pale radiance as well, and the diplomat with astonishment realized that the building must have entered its regeneration phase. Since the process could only be activated by manual reprogramming, it was evident someone had been taking care of the Embassy during his absence.

As Da'an's curiosity took over, the wall dissolved beneath his gentle touch, revealing the programming panel.

'Sha'enaa,' he commanded in Eunoia.

The password instantly granted him unrestrained access to the central processing unit. The computer displayed the list of recent modifications via a flickering data stream, which clearly testified to the damage the system had taken during the attack.

The first few positions on the list marked with Kincaid L., Maj. awakened a small smile on the Taelon's lips. It appeared Liam had been attempting to repair the internal security system, inconsistencies in energy distribution and the half-melted portal. The energy shower in his private quarters was missing, but that came as no surprise, since the young man had clearly moved it to his friend's underground apartment.

Da'an closed his eyes. In recent years he and Liam had fought frequently, and there were times he had doubted his Protector's loyalty. Having been captured by the Jaridians, he had believed the young hybrid had finally given in to the temptation of punishing him for betraying the Resistance. Now he came to realize that his assumptions had been flawed from the very beginning. Liam's determination to repair this last Taelon bastion of fading hope proved he was devoted to ensuring the well-being of the very Taelon he had sworn to protect despite his involvement in the Resistance… and despite the diplomat's betrayal.

Feeling his body shudder from weakness, the North American Companion leaned on the wall. The long walk to reach the Embassy had not quite unexpectedly demanded a tremendous amount of effort and a dose of energy, which in his current condition he was reluctant to spare. Still, although his decision to leave his place of sanctuary might have seemed unreasonable at first, now he was certain he had chosen the right course of action.

Despite his loyalty towards a race which hardly respected humanity, for the past few years Liam had been endangering his own life to protect him, even if it meant losing the trust of his own people. If there was a final sacrifice to be made, he could not allow his Protector to step upon this path. Liam was young and had many years of life yet before him – dying in a foreign war was far from his destiny, and Vorjak – not matter how long one tried to reason with him – was too obsessed with revenge to simply let go.

A shadow swept across the Taelon's blue eyes. Vorjak's final blow was not meant for a human; which still did not guarantee he would refrain from destroying the entire planet on a whim.

Afraid that these dark thoughts might eventually upset his unborn child, Da'an banished them from his mind and slowly approached his throne-like chair. He could only hope that the energy shower in the audience chamber was still functional. With a soft murmur the infant gently inquired about their surroundings, which – having spent most of its short existence in a rather dull, isolated environment – it continued to perceive as increasingly fascinating. Da'an smiled, for the briefest of moments forgetting the dark fate he was bound to choose for himself and his offspring. The infant's attempts to communicate with him soothed the mental solitude, which remained after the Commonality had dissolved.

You seem increasingly curious about the world outside, ash'lin, he whispered softly in Eunoia as his hand came to rest on his abdomen.

The child gurgled.

Unearthing the memory of the tranquil landscapes of the Taelon homeworld from the deepest recesses of his mind, Da'an felt the infant's curiosity increase. It squeaked in pleasure upon witnessing the breathtaking images of the Tha'ia mountains, which its parent shared through their telepathic link.

The Taelon reacted with mild amusement. I am glad the vista pleases you.

Gurgling, the child lapsed back into its own thoughts.

As he resurfaced from the world of fond memories, it was with certain apprehension that the diplomat realized he was shivering. The small amount of energy left in his system began to fade once the infant's unceasing appetite drove it to softly nimble at his pathways again. Da'an closed his eyes. He perceived his energy reserve had been almost depleted, but could not bring himself to deny his offspring what it needed to survive.

You are the greatest gift I could wish for, he gently caressed the child's psyche before guiding tiny particles of energy into its pathways. Whatever the price is…

Sensing its parent's discomfort, the child expressed its concern, but this time the Taelon's fatigue rendered him unable to shield the truth about his condition from its consciousness.

The infant whimpered.

Weakened, Da'an started to collapse, but was suddenly grasped from behind. Two strong hands, clearly human, as the diplomat judged with the last scrap of conscious thought, effortlessly picked him up like a child. He was too fatigued to protest or open his eyes to learn the person's identity. The only sensation he felt before darkness claimed him was the pleasant warmth of tiny particles of energy revitalizing his pathways as the energy shower was activated.