A/N: I would like to apologize to everyone for the unreasonably long delay. It will not happen again.

Here is Chapter 14. I hope you will find it was worth the wait.

Chapter 14

Kal stares around the deserted camp, his mouth unable to form words. In the back of his head the panic rises as his eyes take in the scene all around them. Blast craters pockmark the sides of the shuttles. Expended heat sinks litter the ground like tiny glittering seedcones. Trails of red mar the grass, drying in the mid afternoon sunlight. More blood paints the sides of the ships, but there are no bodies to be found anywhere.

Kal turns away from the tableau, meeting James's eyes. The human's face is ashen, his eyes wide. There goes our ride home, thinks Kal. He knows there's no way off this world without them.

James steps past him, looking around as if in a daze. After a moment he turns around, looking at Kal frankly. "Well, we'd better get going."

Kal blinks. "What? Get going where?"

"We have to rescue them!" James replies emphatically. "We don't know what the hunters will do to them, but I have a pretty good idea." He gives Kal a meaningful look. "This didn't happen too long ago. Some of these blast points are still warm."

Kal nods. He feels a pang of guilt as he realizes he had assumed James would only have his own concerns in mind. You ought to know better than that by now. He looks around again, his mind still struggling to process the sudden turn of events. He shakes himself. "You're right. We have to try. If we follow their trail we can at least find the hunters' base. Then we can..." He pauses. "I don't know. We'll think of something."

"Thinking," remarks James. "That's a start, anyway. I know it's not what you're used to, but I'm glad you've decided to give it a chance."

Despite the carnage surrounding them, Kal feels his lips twist into a half-smile. "Yeah, I guess it might be worth a try." Only you could make me smile at a time like this, he thinks. What is that worth? Kal strides to the edge of the camp, searching for a trail. He has the feeling it's worth more than he can know.

…

James is only half-focused on the world around him. The other half of his mind is still remembering last night, remembering the kiss, and the simple joy of falling asleep in the arms of the person you care for the most in all the universe. When they stumbled out of the woods and into this scene of destruction he remembers wondering how things can change so quickly from bleak to wonderful and back again. He supposes now, as they follow the path of blood streaks and broken branches, that it is simply the way of the universe. If there is a god, he thinks absently, then it is not a god that cares much for the fates of men like me.

He and Kal move down the path at a fast walk. More thermal clips are scattered along the way, and occasionally they come across trees scorched from small arms fire. "This looks like a retreat," he points out to Kal. "They were chased out of their camp, but they put up a fight."

"They could still be," says Kal, his voice strained. "We need to hurry!"

James quickens his stride, not asking what they will do if they run straight into a battle in progress. He knows Kal has no plan either, just the need to move. So they move.

…

The sounds reach them first. A whining drone filters through the trees, accompanied by another sound that James cannot place. Kal gives a shout, doubling his pace and racing on ahead of James. James follows, sprinting to catch up. The drone grows louder, and James nearly falls forward as the loamy soil gives way to pebbles and scree. He slides, throwing out his arms, and when he regains his balance and looks up he nearly falls again.

Kal stands ten paces away, feet splayed and looking upward at the source of the now almost deafening noise. They have reached the end of the land. Not forty paces form where Kal stands the rocky ground slips away. Beyond it waves roll across an aquamarine sea, breaking against the rock face with a continuous muted roar.

Above the water hangs a giant black buzzard of a craft. Its four enclosed rotors beat the air, throwing up pillars of spray beneath them and creating a droning pulse that drowns out all other sound. The craft dips, and James watches transfixed as it swoops in toward the cliff's edge. Its decent slows, lowering its belly onto the stony ledge. Something clunks within and a ramp begins to lower.

James finally breaks out of his trance, forcing his body to move. He darts forward, grabbing onto Kal's arm. The quarian is frozen stalk still, his hair blowing back into James's face, his eyes fixed on the hover craft. "Come on!" cries James, his voice lost in the blast of the rotors. He pulls at Kal's arm, but he will not be moved. "Kal!" screams James. The ramp of the craft lowers, a pair of armored figures emerging from within.

James lets his arm fall limp. He hangs his head, drawing a deep breath as the hunters step toward them. Beside him he feels Kal shift, and the quarian's fingers slip between his own. He thinks he can almost hear Kal say something, but the words are carried away by the wind. James feels the hand squeeze tightly around his own, then pain explodes across his chest and the world drops away.

…

Sound reaches Kal's ears from far away. It grows louder and closer, swimming toward him through his confused consciousness. There is a hum surrounding him, deep and resonating. A staccato click click click comes from somewhere before him, but he cannot place it.

Slowly he cracks open one eye. He is in a dark metal room. Across from him a bench runs along the wall. Two humans in dark green plated armor recline on it, their helmeted heads turned away from him. Kal's eye refocuses. One of the hunters is tapping the toe of his boot against the steel flooring. Click He still can't figure where the humming is coming from. It seems to fill the room.

Kal wants to check to bench beside him, to see if James is with them, but something inside his fuzzied mind tells him that revealing he's awake would be a poor idea. Surprise might be the only advantage he has.

Feeling is beginning to come back to his body, with the exception of his chest and a spot at the base of his neck. Darts. They must've hit me in the chest and neck. He risks another quick look around, keeping his head low and still. The hunters are still lounging disinterestedly against the far wall. They don't look ready for me though. Did I wake up early? He recalls the speed at which his wounds healed the previous day. With the memory comes the sobering realization that his body is not his own any longer. Whatever they put in me, it's in control now.

Kal's arms are stuck behind his back. Very carefully he tries to move his wrists, but something is holding them. He relaxes his arms, keeping his breathing even and slow. He thinks again of James, remembers the human's frantic attempts to pull him away. He tries to put it from his mind, desperately hoping that his gamble will pay off. It is the only way. He knows that he and James have next to no chance of finding the hunter's base, much less launching an assault on it from the outside. The only way to take down the gravity well generator will be from the inside.

The floor of the room suddenly lurches sickeningly and Kal is nearly thrown from the bench. In front of him he hears the hunters' boots clatter on the deck. One of them shouts to someone Kal hadn't noticed, his voice distorted slightly by his helmet's filters. "Hey, take it easy! What are you trying to do, kill us?"

Another voice calls back from Kal's left. "Calm down! It's like this every time we submerge, most people get used to it by the fourth time! Are you guys thick or what?"

"Can it, wise-ass, unless you want to spend the night with the subjects."

"Oh yeah, and I guess you'll drive this thing after they eat me, huh?"

Kal has to stop himself from frowning in confusion. Submerge? Drive this thing? Where...

Kal's thoughts are cut off by a burst of static off to his left. "Team bravo, come in," demands a garbled voice.

Boots clank on the deck from right to left. "We read you," answers a hunter. "Second sweep was positive. Two marks, both sedated: one alien and one human. The quarian's missing its suit, looks like the same two we picked up before."

Kal feels his heart quicken. James! He's alive!

"And the human is still alive? I had thought... Well, this is most intriguing." The voice muses. "Good work. You are cleared to dock. I want the quarian brought up to the command center as soon as you get in."

"And the human, sir?" asks the hunter.

"What? Oh, yes. Throw it in with the others, I may have a use for it later."

"Yes sir," says the hunter. The staticy transmission cuts off and Kal feels the floor dip again. His head swims as he tries to absorb everything he has just heard. A booming clunk resounds through the room. Footsteps sound again, and the hunter speaks to his comrade. "Come on, let's wake them up."

Kal holds still, trying not to tense, and then there's a sharp pinch on the inside of his arm and his eyes slam open. He gasps, feeling as if someone has hooked his fingers up to en electric current. His heart beats frantically and he fights to keep his breathing under control. The hunter pulls away, returning an empty syringe to his belt. "Yeah, this one's awake," he says. "Get the human."

Kal takes the opportunity to look around while he waits for his heart rate to return to normal. He sees now that he is not in a room, but the interior of a vehicle. The hover craft. Something about submerging... Are we underwater? To his left the wall opens onto a pilot's cabin. To his right he sees James being awakened in a similar fashion. Like Kal, his wrists are bound behind him in wall-mounted shackles. Kal hangs his head slightly, trying to appear as if not fully awake. Wait for the right moment. You can prob'ly overpower one of 'em. Get your hands on his gun and you might just stand a chance.

There is another clunk, and the right wall begins to lower like a ramp. Kal squints as brighter light floods the dim hold. One of the hunters moves to his side, grabbing Kal's arm roughly. The manacles click and Kal feels them fall away from his wrists. The hunter pulls him upright and Kal stands, making his motions slow and sluggish. Ahead of him the other hunter leads James down the ramp into the light outside. Kal is lead out behind him. He blinks, his eyes adjusting to the light.

They are in a small hangar. The walls and floor are shiny white metal, cold under his bare feet. As the hunters lead Kal and James away toward a door on the other side of the hangar Kal looks back. A pair of docking arms extend from the ceiling, clamped onto the bulky hovercraft. Kal sees that the craft's wings have retracted and the rotor housings are angled backward. Behind the transport a large black airlock dominates the wall.

They reach the door. The first hunter swipes his omni-tool in front of the lock and it slides open, revealing a small anti-chamber. Kal and James are herded inside and a hunter shuts the door behind them. The other man raises his forearm, speaking into his omni-tool. "Director," he says. "Bravo team and subjects inside. Requesting authorization."

There is a portal set in the back wall of the chamber. Over the door frame a light blinks red. A beam of light sweeps over the four of them, making two passes before it is apparently satisfied and the light flashed green. "Access granted," says the voice from the hunter's omni-tool. "Dump the human in holding and bring the quarian to me."

The hunter nods, and to Kal's right another door hisses open. Kal's eyes dart to it; through it lies yet another door, but he knows that that is where he'll find Commander Zarra. If they're still alive. He eyes the hunters, trying to gauge the situation. One of them grabs James by the wrists and begins to push him toward the open door. It's now or never, supplies Kal's mind. Act now and save everyone, or lose them all forever. He takes a deep breath.

The first hunter is caught off guard. He fails to react in time when Kal twists his wrists, gripping the hunter's own. With a grunt of exertion Kal drops his weight, pulling down and sending the hunter tumbling over his shoulder. The armored human is heavier than he expected and it throws him off balance, so Kal gives into gravity and falls to the deck, his hands still around the hunter's wrist. The man is stunned, his mind still catching up with his body. Kal takes advantage of the split second it affords him, swinging his legs across the man's chest and trapping the arm between his thighs. He plants his feet on the floor and yanks back hard, using his hips for leverage. He is rewarded by a loud crack and a muffled scream as the human's elbow breaks.

Kal twists away even as the other hunter's metal-shod foot slams into the deck inches from his head. He stumbles over the writhing body of the injured hunter, catching his feet as he tries to stand. He raises his hands, too late to stop the pistol butt as it swings toward him. There is an instant of blinding pain, and then nothing.

…

Kal wakes with a throbbing pain in his head and ribs. This, he thinks darkly. Is really getting old. Really old. He opens his eyes. The room around him comes into focus worryingly slowly. He is in a dim, circular room. A glass strip runs around the room at head height, but nothing Kal sees through it makes any sense. He turns his attention to the room itself. It is of medium size, bare save for a semi-circle of computer consoles at its center. In the center of the semi-circle a man sits with his back to Kal. His head is shaved, and he wears a long gray coat.

Kal gives moving a try. As he thought, he is bound yet again. He is upright this time, wrists and ankles locked to a vertical slab behind him. The man in the gray coat begins to turn, his chair swiveling around to face Kal, and the simple act fills him with dread. He has the sudden memory of being trapped like this before, of needles and unbearable, never-ending pain. The man rises, approaching Kal with a pleasant smile on his face. "Hello," he says. "I see that you're awake. You may call me the Director. Your own name is not important."

Kal locks his jaw. He feels his arms trembling with equal parts anger and fear.

The Director strides to the window, facing away from Kal. "Do you like the view?" he asks. "This planet has some very interesting undersea fauna. Something like sharks, I believe, but their skin is quite unique. It changes colors, all the hues of the rainbow. Do not get excited though, you will not see any today. I set the automatic defenses to kill them on sight." He turns to Kal, on his face the rueful expression of the parent of an underachieving child. "Interesting, but useless."

He paces back to the chair, seating himself and crossing his legs comfortably. "So much of life is useless," he says almost sadly. "So many things content to go about their lives, fulfilling their basic survival needs, content to be insignificant. They do not inquire, they do not do anything. They merely serve to perpetuate their own tiny, meaningless existences, their greatest aspiration to someday create more insignificant copies of themselves. Such a vicious cycle cannot be called life, for if that is life then for what do we live? It is enough to drive a man mad."

Kal narrows his eyes. He's insane, he thinks dully. And I'm at his mercy.

The man smiles apologetically. "I do not mean to bore you with philosophy, but now that I have begun I feel I must finish." He steeples his fingers, looking Kal in the eye. "This realization troubled me for some time. I came to believe there was no hope in this universe, that this cycle I perceived would continue without end for all eternity. But then, many years ago, I had a revelation. You see, beings like you, like the sharks and ants and every other miserable carbon-based organism, you are not true life! It is so obvious I should have seen it sooner. You and the sharks are simply failed models, flawed during creation and lacking the spark of purpose that makes one truly alive, truly an individual. I am one of the few truly successful beings, blessed and cursed to know purpose in the midst of idiocy and chaos.

"Do not be disappointed, however. After my first epiphany, I was able to see the universe much more clearly. Beings such as yourself may still serve a purpose, although of course it cannot be your own. You may be of use to beings of true purpose, whatever value you may possess can still be channeled into worthy causes! So you must understand that true beings such as myself are now forced to make distinctions: between what in the plethora of failed experiments is useful and can be salvaged, and what is not. It is clear that is they are not useful, these things serve no purpose at all. I fthey are destroyed, it is only a boon to the universe. The removal of useless clutter. Do you understand?"

Kal says nothing. He can think of nothing to say in the face of such complete and obvious lunacy. How can I escape this madman? He likes the sound of his own voice, that's for sure. Maybe I can distract him for long enough... but then what?

The Director shakes his head, his bald scalp glinting in the dim light. "No, I can see that you do not. No matter. There is one man at least who understands. He was able to see the value of my purpose, and it was he that gave me this facility. Do not ask me his name, I do not know it. No one does."

The Director turns his head, staring out the window. He is silent for some time, and when he speaks again his voice sounds dreamy. "There is a legend, from long-ago Earth. It tells of a man, a typical human man, without merit or use, the ordinary dreck of the galaxy. But in this tale the man undergoes a transformation. Forces beyond his control take hold of him, change him, shape him into something with value, something better. And the other humans?" The Director chuckles, his voice lowering. "Why, they fear him. Of course they fear him. Such a being serves to remind them of their own shortcomings and inadequacies, of their uselessness.

"I became fascinated with this story. I wondered if such a transformation was possible. Could creatures like you be redesigned, re purposed into something of worth and use? Could I take the filings from the sculpture and mold them into a pedestal on which it would stand? Not many thought I could. They laughed, oh how they laughed. They told me I was insane. Well, not to my face, but I knew they were thinking it. It is the defense of their kind, of your kind. Say that I am insane, that my grand vision is no more than a madman's rantings, and you spare yourself having to face the harsh reality of your own futility.

"But there was one who believed in me. He listened to my ideas, without contempt or fear. He listened, and then he told me that his organization had a place for a man like me. I knew then that I had found another like me, another with purpose and direction. He set me up in this lab, gave me the tools and the funds to make my dream a reality. And it will be a reality. I wish ou could see it, I wish you could share in a glimpse of the glory my eyes alone are privy to. You cannot see it, but you will be a part of it. All of you will be. My benefactor wants soldiers, fighters and killers. He does not see the full potential of my dream, but it is a start. He shall have his soldiers, and then when the galaxy is ruled by men of reason and purpose then we can begin to fix you, to shape you into something we can use. Oh, if you could only see it."

Kal grits his teeth. He has had enough. "Where is the human," he spits. "What did you do with him?"

The Director looks at him curiously. "Yes, I was meaning to ask you about that. I had thought that after 83B reached optimum virulence it would cause in you the uncontrollable blood lust it brought on in the last subject. It seems however that moral inhibitions remained. How curious. It does seem as if the tracking chip we implanted in your neck has malfunctioned. I wonder if that is the cause."

"What did you do with him?" repeats Kal.

"Ahh," says the Director. "I believe I can put it together now. Yes, this is another defect beings like you suffer from. It is called love, and it is clear that you are under its influence. How sad. You poor, underdeveloped creature, can you not see that the two of you are incompatible? Even if you were of the same species, two males together have no hope of reproduction." He shakes his head. "Never mind that now. Despite your many flaws, I will put you to use. You will not be whole, but try to draw comfort from the idea of serving a purpose greater than you can comprehend. I imagine you believe in a god or gods. Most of you do. Think of me as a god then, walking among mortal men. You shall be an element of the manifestation of my grand design."

"Where is he?" growls Kal. "If you've hurt him-"

The Director reaches out and pats Kal on his trembling shoulder. "I have told you to forget about that. I had thought the human would perhaps be useful, but no, now I think not. It will be disposed of, there is no need to clutter up the facility with unwanted refuse."

Kal struggles against his bonds, pulling with all his might even though he knows it is futile. The Director watches him struggle for a moment. "If you are thinking of trying to force a transition," he says after a while. "Then let me inform you that it will be futile. When you were brought up here I administered a damping solution to dull the effects of the tincture. It will block the pathways of the mind required to trigger a change. Be still, or you may injure yourself. I must go and attend to something, I will return shortly." He rises and departs the room without giving Kal a backward glance.

It is not a moment before the Director is back. He enters the room through a door Kal cannot see, and then strides around the consoles to face the quarian. "It is done," he says, a faint smile playing across his lips. "Your friend shall not cause us further distraction."

His words hit Kal like a physical blow, knocking the wind from his lungs. He feels suddenly impossibly empty, his insides filled with nothing but cold, dead space. He falls forward, hanging limply in his shackles. It is done. The Director's words ring in his head, bouncing back and forth. It is done. It is done. There are no thoughts, only those three words filling every empty, desolate corner of him. His eyes seem to lose focus.

And then they are focused again, the Director's face filling his vision. A tiny spark snaps inside his stomach, a tiny light in the vast empty darkness.

The Director leans a little closer, eyeing Kal with mild curiosity. "What, exactly, are you feeling right now?" he asks politely. "I should like to know, for the purposes of scientific inquiry."

Kal does not hear him. The spark has grown, building into flames that lick at his insides. They burn hotter and brighter, filling him with an inferno of rage and hate. He bares his teeth, a wordless snarl escaping his throat. The fire expands, running down his veins and filling his limbs. He feels something, just on the fringe of his consciousness, the merest twitch of power, just out of his reach.

And then it is gone. As quickly as it grew the fire burns away, the spark winks out. Kal falls forward again, the strength gone from his body. The anger, the hate, they are gone too. All that he feels is cold.

"I told you," says the Director knowingly. "But you had to see for yourself, didn't you. I applaud you for trying, and it was a decent effort. Excuse me a moment, I must enter a few calculations. Then we will continue. I shall have to extract the tincture from your body before it bonds to your genetic structure. Otherwise it would be much more difficult to dispose of you! The serum you carry in your veins is valuable, as well. It must not go to waste." He turns away, bending over the computer consoles.

Kal's mind is a field of ice. Before his eyes images float by. James's face, twisted into his usual half-smile, self-deprecating and sarcastic. He remembers the night before, although it seems like an eternity ago now, remembers the fluttering pull he felt in the pit of his stomach, remembers the warmth of James's lips against his own. He remembers sitting there in the cave, his back pressed against the stony wall, James leaning against his chest, waiting for sleep to overtake them. He remembers the feeling that came over him then, that whatever this planet threw at them it didn't matter, because they would face it together. A terrible sadness fills him, a wind to howl above the frozen plane. And with the sorrow is another feeling, softer but at the same time infinitely more strong. Love. Yes, James, I love you. There is not a single person in this universe I have ever felt this for, but it must be love. I know it is.

Kal feels a tingle, seeming to spread from his chest out through his arms to the tips of his fingers. A little bit of warmth pulses inside him at the thought of the human who, in the span of six short days has become the center of his universe, the point around which everything else revolved. Memories continue to flood back, feeding the glow until it is a star burning within his chest, driving out the cold. Warm, gentle heat flows outward, filling him with strength. Whispered words dance through his mind, melting the ice away. So this is love. So I can feel it, after all. His fingers close almost of their own accord, clenching into fists. There is still time. I can still save you.

The pulsing light within him swells, the tingling building into an almost electric thrum. Kal raises his eyes slowly, leveling them at the back of the Director's shaved head. "You will not take him from me."

The words fall from his lips quietly, and the Director half-turns, his expression disinterested. "Hmm?"

Kal clenches his teeth. The electric feeling is growing uncontrollably, and he has to fight to keep his muscles still. A buzzing is growing in the back of his head, making thinking difficult. It doesn't matter though. There is only one thought, only one purpose.

The Director turns away again. "If there is something you wish to say, you will have to speak up. Quickly though, you do not have much time. The extraction is-"

"You will not take him from me!" roars Kal, the sound taring from his throat and echoing through the small room. The Director spins around, a frown on his face.

"Easy now. Do not excite yourself, it will only make the extraction more difficult. The cuffs are secure, I assure you."

Kal isn't listening. The buzzing in his head is almost deafening, and the electric heat is rising becoming unbearable. His spine arches and his fists spring open, fingers splayed out rigid.

The Director steps closer, leaning in to examine the shackles behind Kal's back. "No," he mutters. "Not possible. The tincture has not had time to bond, it will not..."

In Kal's vision the light fades in and out. He feels his muscles burning, straining at the restraints and ignoring his commands. The pulse in his chest grows stronger, filling his whole body with its driving rhythm. He feels as if he is being pushed in every direction at once, unable to move in any of them.

The Director takes a step back, then another. He looks up at Kal, his eyes wide. "No," he murmurs. "No, it is not possible! The—the serum, it cannot fail! I cannot have erred, it is not..."

There is a mighty crack as Kal feels the manacles break off of his straining forearms, first the left and then the right. The pounding has receded slightly. He gives his left ankle a jerk, freeing it from the flimsy metal bands. The smell in this room is wrong, like death and chemicals. He does not wish to be trapped here any longer. He raises his head, a familiar face meeting his eyes.

The Director is stumbling backward, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. "Not—not—possible-" he stammers, staring at Kal.

Kal gives his right ankle a tug, snapping the last remaining shackle. He takes a step forward, giving the air another sniff. The man before him carries the chemical scent, too. He is steeped in it, and in the odor of death. Kal feels his muzzle wrinkle in disgust.

The Director's back hits the edge of the computer console. He reaches inside his coat, fumbling for something. His eyes roll in panic, his hands shaking as they withdraw a shiny metal pistol. He struggles to level it at Kal, the barrel weaving wildly. "Stay back! Stay-"

The first swipe of Kal's arm tares a thick gouge in the man's throat. He strikes again, his arm a blur, claws biting deep, and the Director's head separates from his shoulders. It hists the floor and tumbles away, the ashy face still frozen in shock. The gray-coated body slumps to the floor with a thud.

Kal looks around. He knows there is something he should be doing. From beneath the mire a word floats up slowly to the surface, a name. James.

Kal remembers. He focuses on the name, grabbing onto it and using it to pull himself up, out of the quicksand his consciousness has become. With all his strength he focuses, pushing the beast back, driving its presence from his mind. He feels the change coming over his body, skin and bone grudgingly shifting, and for a second the burning returns. Then it is gone and he is himself once more. Kal sinks down to the deck, clothed only in the tattered remains of the pirate's trousers, torn at the knees where his legs took on a different shape. A shiver runs down his spine as the warmth of the transition leaves him, and he closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, regaining his strength. Then he stands and strides to the hidden door, kicking aside the lifeless body of the Director. "Hold on," he whispers. "Hold on, James. I'm coming."