Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers of Roswell
Spoilers: After Chant Down Babylon, changes happening where Max is successfully rescued, and Michael was the one who broke up with Maria.
Pairings: You'll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation Guide: Puden (PEW - den)
Caldor (K – al – DOOR)
Gorga Dea (GORE – ga Dee – a)
Chasser (Ch – AH – ser)
Liesner (LIES – ner))
Author's notes: Queen Fadilia Kedar: Max/Isabel's mother
King Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel's father
Andaria: Tess' mother
Radim: Tess' father
Kedrans: race from which Royal Four descended
Iturians: race from which Khivar descended, and overthrew and killed Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans: special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar's Jewel: constellation in the Antarian's star system
Yun's Garment: Aurora Borealis - Northern Lights
Saren Dari: desert plain on Antar
Chasser : animal similar to a cat
Chapter Fifty Four
***
He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.
- Harold Wilson
***
Everything was happening so fast, Liz wasn't quite sure to make of it. Max had found some remote information from Jesse's mind, as he delved into the recesses of Isabel's husband's mind. It was nothing solid, but it was enough of a lead that Max had begun to form a plan - he would head out into the desert to meet his adversary.
It didn't sit well with Liz. She had no intention of allowing Max to go out into the unknown, searching for their friends, alone. It was not smart.
But Max insisted. He did not want to see her or Jesse, who also disagreed with this newfound strategy, hurt; because none of them knew what to expect from this invisible foe. Liz understood his concern, but she believed in her heart that accompanying him out there was the right move. Deep down, she knew that Max didn't realize what he was getting himself into. There was something so ominous and expectedly predictable about Max's decision - it was like something out of a horror movie, when the main characters go out into the unknown to face down the unseen creatures, only to be confronted by the unexpected and then slaughtered. And Liz was going to make damn sure that would not happen.
"So when are we going out there?" she asked.
Max slowly raised his head; his brooding gaze pierced her steely confidence. "I told you that you and Jesse are staying here."
Liz swallowed hard and shook her head, briefly glancing at Jesse, who sat up at the mention of joining Max in the rescue, before staring down Max's determined gaze. "There's no way we're going to let you go out there alone. You have no idea what you're going to be facing out there," she declared. "I've mastered some of my powers, sort of, and I can be used. It would be an element of surprise - they would never expect a human to have alien powers." Liz folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. "And I could probably remember where I was better, once I get out there." Jesse added.
Max sighed. "You guys don't understand what you're getting into. They've already got Kyle, Maria, Isabel, and our parents - I don't want to have to keep looking over my shoulder, wondering if you're somehow going to get hurt. He leaned against the kitchen counter, as she and Jesse sat at the kitchen table. "This isn't some game," he said solemnly. "They are here to make sure the job gets done, and I will be able to focus better if you guys are not in the way."
Liz tensed at his ignorant comments. "You're wrong," she exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. "I learned how to use these strange powers Maxwell...probably more efficiently than you have in the time that you've known you are an alien." Liz approached Max, who rolled his eyes at her declaration. "I am not some helpless damsel in distress." She glared at him, irritated at the blanket statements he was throwing around so easily.
"Do you even know the extent of your powers?"
Liz pursed her lips and remained silent. She had not tested the range of her abilities, but she knew that she had the ability to produce energy blasts, and change the atomic structures of inanimate objects. Granted, Liz was no expert, and by far, the least powerful of the other Four, but she could hold her own.
"Look, I'm not going to argue with you. You're probably going to do what you want anyway, so it'll be safer for me to know where you are," Max said, conceding to her demand. "But Jesse, you're not going. It'll be safer if you stay here."
Jesse shook his head and looked at him in dismay. "How can you say that?" he exclaimed. "Isabel needs me, and there's no way in hell I'm going to let anyone hurt her."
"Max," Liz turned to her former lover, "I think Jesse needs to come."
Max frowned. "No."
Liz knew Jesse had no way to defend himself against these aliens - no alien powers that had generated from any healings - but deep in her gut, something told her that they would need him. Isabel would need him.
"Please." She stared imploringly at Maxwell. He seemed adamant of his decision, but unexpectedly, like a sudden flash within his dark eyes, Max looked over at Jesse.
"Fine," he reluctantly mumbled. Then Max looked firmly down at her. "But you will do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, and do it without questions."
Liz was hesitant to agree with those terms; but as she opened her mouth to protest, she noticed a change in Max's stance, as if there was a set plan he was relying on, which relied on their co-operation. She closed her mouth and swallowed her pride, glancing at Jesse, who seemed ready to argue the point with Max as well, and nodded. "Fine. We'll do what you ask us to do."
Max glanced at Jesse, who seemed surprised at Liz's sudden acquiescence. "And what about you?"
"Yeah, fine," Jesse muttered. "I'll go along with it."
Liz breathed a sigh of relief, as Jesse agreed. She closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer.
Please keep let this turn out right.
"All right then," Max said softly, starting her out of her private thoughts. "It's late. And we're going to have a long day ahead of us..."
"What are you suggesting?" Jesse said distastefully.
"I think we should get some sleep before we start out tomorrow morning," Max finished.
"You mean we're not going out tonight?" Liz asked a little surprised.
Max shook his head. "If we do that, we'd be falling into his trap."
"What do you mean?" She frowned, not following his logic.
Max turned and looked soberly at her. "If we go out tired and not thinking clearly, we'll be dead in the first meeting."
Liz glanced briefly at Jesse, as they were all silenced by this thought.
"So get some sleep," Max sighed. "Because I have a feeling this is just the beginning."
~~~
His advice had been sound, but Max was unable to follow it. As Liz took his bed and Jesse went back to Isabel's room, Max found himself standing on the front step of their house, staring into the golden dawn of morning. He didn't know how long he had been staring out at the cluttered horizon, with its trees, houses and the unimpressive slopes, beyond their little town of Roswell. The view of the morning sun could not be seen behind the quiet, suburban, neighborhood houses, but the reaching rays of the spectacular, celestial creation announced the beginning of the new day and its untapped opportunities.
Clutched underneath his slender fingers was a thin black book he had found on the kitchen floor, next to Isabel's tan coat. Max had been compelled to pick it up, as he strode by. His previous reaction to the 'prophetic' writings was less than appealing; there was just something about its intensity that seemed to cut to the heart of the matter, which was why he hadn't opened its pages again.
"So this is it," he muttered under his breath as he gazed out at the calmness of the morning. "I'm in it; no matter what I want, I'm always going to be in it."
Max knew it was time for him to settle this once and for all. He was confronting the strongest opponent he had met yet; here, this day, and he would not sidestep the proclaimed destiny, which had plagued him since Tess' arrival. Now the time had come. In fact, he might have waited too long, he didn't know; but he had to reconcile his life and destiny before it destroyed those he loved.
'No excuses anymore.'
Max looked down at sidewalk, which ran parallel to the Evans' house, and saw himself, a few years older than he was now, waiting expectantly. "You again," he said out loud, taking no care about the possibility of light sleepers amidst his neighborhood.
'Yes, me, or should I say you?'
"You're not me. If you were, you wouldn't be standing here." Max swallowed hard, unconsciously clutching the leather-bound book closer to his side, and narrowed his eyes. "I'm tired of fighting and telling everyone, 'I don't know', grappling with this unceasing question that continues to haunt me."
'Well then, stop.' He stood there, as if urging him to make the first move. 'Only you can end this Max.'
"If I could, why haven't I?" he exclaimed irritably. "I've tried."
'You know why,' Zan said knowingly. 'But now, you know time is running out. This does not have to be condemnation - you can choose to be free.'
His vague and frustrating insights were slowly wearing at Max's patience. He just wanted plain and simple English. He needed instructions about what to do. He needed someone to tell him what he was doing was right.
'It doesn't work that way.' He answered Max's unvoiced thoughts. 'There are no direct orders, Max. You cannot be forced into this. It is your choice.'
"What kind of a choice is this?" Max yelled at himself. "Of course I'm being forced into doing this. I can't eat, sleep, or live a normal life! How can I, when I'm an alien?" He threw his hands up in the air. "This is some twisted idea of choice. I can't live my life with Liz, not when the fact of being with her could result in my death. Hell, I can't even get away with living on Earth without the military or some government agency hunting me down. You tell me what kind of a choice that is?" His breath was ragged from screaming.
Zan remained unphased.
'Still, Max, it is a choice.' He paused. 'It results in less than a fairytale ending, but you can still choose it.'
Max knew that Zan was speaking the truth. He could choose to remain on Earth and have nothing to do with Antar, leaving hundreds of millions of people to be slaughtered. But again, how did he know that his choice made a difference?
'You have only to say yes, and find out.'
Max felt his blood rush through his veins, and his muscles tense in apprehension. How could he choose this life? How could it make him happy? Suddenly his breath became shallow and his head began to hurt. His heart was racing, and Max was doubled over from a pain in his side.
'Choose Max,' Zan's voice called soothingly. 'Say yes and allow yourself to have peace. We just want peace.'
Max closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing, taking deep breaths and slowly forcing the air out. His right hand clutched at his chest, as it tightened; and as a reoccurring stabbing pain began, still clutched in his other hand was the black leather book. Max knelt onto one knee, hoping to catch his breath. "Why are you doing this to me?" he gasped in pain.
'I'm not doing anything.'
"Then why can't I breathe?" He took a sharp intake of breath and choked on the intangible element of life, coughing, as his side began to spasm. "This is what you call 'choice'?" He looked up at Zan, who tilted his head somberly and sighed.
'Do you really think I can cause this?' He shook his head warily. 'Max, you're having an anxiety attack. I can't start or stop it, only you can.'
Max swallowed, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. "An anxiety attack?"
Zan nodded. 'Yes. Otherwise known as a panic attack?'
Max suddenly felt the pain subside and the revelation sink in. "I'm making myself do this?"
Zan nodded again.
Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath and calmed himself, telling himself to breathe. Suddenly he felt his body return to normal and his heart pumping at a reasonable rate. As he pushed himself up, Max met Zan's gaze, and ran his fingers through his hair.
'I told you,' Zan said dryly.
"I'm never going to be at peace with this, am I?" Max said, resigned.
'It depends what your answer is,' Zan said quietly. 'Will you stand before all that is evident and clear, and tell yourself that you don't belong back on Antar?'
Max licked his lips and sighed. "I don't know."
'That's not an acceptable answer anymore, Maxwell," he rebuked. 'You know that as well as I do.'
Max nodded reluctantly. Choose destiny? He weighed that thought in his mind - images of his life before flashed before his eyes: pictures of his mother and father, Ava, Vilandra, Rath/Michael, and a thousand voices calling to him - and found himself comforted, and a sudden peace came over him. Max slowly lowered himself to the ground, sitting on the front step of his house.
Or Earth?
At the thought of turning his back on those strong memories, which he suddenly recalled, his heart began to race a little, and Max felt his palms begin to sweat.
'Have you made your choice?'
Max looked out towards Zan, whose face was shrouded in a sharp blinding ray of light. He looked up and saw the reddish golden globe had climbed out from the shadowed veil of trees and houses. As he blocked the sun's rays with his arm, which held the book, Max slowly pushed himself off of the step and approached the man, who stood several feet away from him. "And if I say yes, then what will happen?" Max asked uncertainly, as he closed the gap between this vision of the past. "What will you say? What will you do?" When he reached the sidewalk, Max stood face to face with the troubling voice within his spirit.
'Then I would reach out like this.' Zan held out his right hand towards Max.
Max glanced down at his hand, and then back up at Zan. He hesitantly reached out and pressed his hand into the waiting hand of the man, who had, in the past, only been a figment of his imagination, and felt him squeeze his hand. Then with an unexpected jerk of his hand, Zan pulled Max into an embrace.
'You will make a great king,' he whispered into Max's ear.
Max blinked once and found himself standing alone at the edge of his parents' manicured lawn. He scanned his surroundings in stunned confusion. What had just happened?
Max looked up into the sky, which was clear, without a cloud in the horizon. The sun enveloped him in its' warm light. As he stood there, Max searched within, for the permeating doubt that had always lingered in his heart, but found none. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, turning on his heel and setting his gaze upon the Evans' house. He felt at rest. The decision had been made.
Let me be a great king.
~~~
Michael slept fitfully, as dreams and memories surrounded him, and he began to see once again through his predecessor's eyes.
"Do you promise to stop teasing me?" Vilandra pouted, pointing irritably at Rath/Michael/Michael.
"What do you mean?" Rath/Michael exclaimed in feigned innocence. "I don't tease you. You're just 'sensitive'."
Vilandra's jaw dropped in mock disbelief and she curled her slender fingers into a fist and hit him in the shoulder. "Take that back!" she laughed.
"Or you'll what?" Rath/Michael retorted, raising his eyebrow mischievously. He nudged her shoulder with his index finger.
Vilandra sat on the terrace railing silently, unable to respond to his challenge. Rath/Michael smirked gleefully and slid off the marble railing, positioning himself in front of the frustrated and speechless teenage girl, and planted his feet, folding his arms across his chest in triumph. "Chasser got your tongue, Princess?"
A blue glimmer flashed within her round dark brown eyes, as she locked gazes with him. Vilandra narrowed her eyes and growled. "You think you're so great, but wait till I tell mother about the plether torch you put in the seekers' classroom," she threatened; a slow satisfied expression emerged from her once sour face. "I bet Instructor Casher would be interested in that little bit of information. He's been running around the school interrogating every student he can find."
Rath/Michael furrowed his brow and shook his head. "You wouldn't dare!" He moved in, grasping her wrists, and struggled mildly to keep Vilandra from escaping. She wriggled under his grip and shrieked. "Let me go."
"Not until you swear that you will not tell Instructor Casher about the plether torch," he exclaimed breathily, as her struggle intensified. "Now swear!"
Vilandra stopped struggling for a brief moment and glared defiantly at him. "You wish!" she gasped, and resumed waging her battle with the overgrown boy. "Now let me go!"
Rath/Michael smirked. He shrugged, letting go of her wrists and laughed, "As you wish, Your Highness."
Vilandra jerked back in the instance Rath/Michael let her go. Her glistening golden locks cushioned her defined facial features, as she listlessly fell backwards, off the terrace. Rath/Michael watched in horror as the hem of Vilandra's pastel vanished out of sight. He rushed to the railing and peered over to see Vilandra free falling towards the shimmering canvas of purple. Her frightened scream pierced Rath/Michael's heart as he saw her arms reaching towards him.
"Vilandra!" he cried in terror. Rath/Michael's eyes widened as her flailing body was enveloped by the sea of purple. The eastern terrace overlooked the Royal pool, which thankfully had been filled earlier that morning. He made a mad dash into the palace and bound down the cascading staircase, two or three steps at a time. There were several Royal guards crowded around the edge of the pool, as well as two in the swimming pool. Rath/Michael pushed passed the guards, who surrounded the scene of the accident. "Is she all right?" He jumped into the pool and made his way towards Vilandra's body. The water level came up to his lips.
Rath/Michael reached out and wrested Vilandra from the possession of the two guards. He looked down and saw her sickly pale face - eyes closed and her lips a pasty purple hue. "Vilandra," he whispered into his ear as he swam towards the edge of the pool. "Hold on." As he climbed onto the hard poolside, gently lifting Vilandra onto a dark blue towel, which had been laid by one of the observing guards, Rath/Michael brushed back her long, damp hair.
Staring down at her lifeless form, all things faded from around him, until all that remained was Vilandra. The guards who hovered around them disappeared and Rath/Michael was left with his beloved. He tilted her head back and breathed life into her body, while pumping the unwanted water from her lungs. The cycle continued, without a reaction from Vilandra's unconscious body. Rath/Michael felt his heart weigh with anxiety and urgency at the fading minutes that past. He closed his eyes and let out a helpless cry.
When Rath/Michael opened his eyes, his gaze looked out towards the serene purple waters, which was empty. "Come on," he whispered, as he looked down upon his closest friend and confidante. "Don't leave me."
As he was about to return to his life saving measures, Rath/Michael became aware of an unexpected, shadowed form floating beneath the surface of the water. Michael stood up, intrigued by the dark shadow. As he stood, Michael looked down and found Rath was still knelt beside Vilandra's body, preparing to continue CPR on his soon-to-be-betrothed. Michael felt a sudden pull towards the water's edge.
The form floated a few feet out from the poolside. Michael glanced briefly behind him, at Rath and his desperate pleas for Vilandra's awakening, before turning his attention to the masked figure in front of him.
He identified the slim, svelte form as a woman. He slowly slid into the warm pool and strode towards the head of the lifeless body. Once he grasped the arm of the unknown woman, Michael floated the body towards him. As the arms and torso floated passed him, the cold, white, face was hidden behind short reddish brown hair, plastered over her eyes. Michael felt his heart beating faster and his hands begin to tremble. Taking a deep breath, he brushed aside the auburn hair, when suddenly his attention was distracted by loud shouting.
"Thank you!" Rath cried, pressing Vilandra's head against his chest. Michael watched as he showered her with kisses, while she slowly became aware of her surroundings.
"She's okay!" he cried out happily. As Rath helped Vilandra up, newcomers to the scene rushed towards the injured princess. King Alaric and Queen Fadilia hovered anxiously over their daughter, escorting her into the palace, alongside Rath.
Michael smiled, relieved at the outcome of the situation. He turned back to the woman in front of him and finished brushing the hair from her face. As his thumb caressed the smooth, pale cheek of the mystery woman, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.
It was Isabel.
He hunched over her body in shock, clutching her with his right arm around her waist and his left arm holding her up from underneath.
"Isabel?"
Michael felt her body begin to sink, like someone had begun to attach weights to her lifeless body. He scrambled to pull her out of the thick waters, but found himself unable to move her. He cupped her serene face, silently willing her to wake up. "Come on Isabel..." Suddenly her face slipped from his grasp and he watched in abject horror, as she sunk underneath the pale purple waters, out from sight.
"NO!" he gasped, awaking in his bed. Michael searched frantically around the dark room for any signs of Isabel, or the images that he had just dreamt.
Had they been real?
"Isabel," he said breathily, running his fingers through his soaking wet hair.
Something was wrong; he felt it in his gut. Isabel was in danger, and there was nothing he could do about it.
~~~
"He has begun his attack," General Steren said solemnly, as he stood beside Queen Fadilia.
"On what fronts?"
"He's engaged our troops at Puden, the Plains of Caldor, and in the south, at Gorga Dea, as we suspected he would, when we arrived." General Steren lit the areas of battle with a press of a button. "We are holding strong for now. The Guilians have bolstered our numbers," he added.
"Why have we excluded Commander Ra...Michael, and also Tess?" Fadilia asked suspiciously.
The General sighed. "This is just the beginning. We cannot trouble them with the minor squabbles, which are only there to serve as distractions for our troops," he explained. "Our true focus will be," he pushed a blue glowing button, "here."
Fadilia looked up to find the General had pulled up a map of the region of Saren Dari. She frowned. It was a barren plain; nothing but sand for hundreds of miles. Fadilia glanced over at General Steren. "What is this?" She motioned to the green grid-like map.
"We have reason to believe that Khivar's weapon is being built here." The General looked up gravely at the satellite uplink, which surveyed the entirety of Saren Dari. One of their best agents risked his life for this information. He had been captured after the drop off and he hadn't heard from the loyal Kedran since.
"So we are going to raid the base?"
The General exhaled slowly. "We have had some other intel about Saren Dari and the project," he said uneasily. "Khivar has sent Andaria, Zander, and Medgio there."
Fadilia tensed at the news of her close friends' move. "Do you know why?"
General Steren shook his head unhappily. "No. We have no idea what Khivar has in store for them," he replied stoically.
"Well then we'd better find out, shouldn't we?" Tess stated, entering unannounced.
General Steren bowed to the Queen and stepped aside as Tess moved in for a closer look at the suspected holding base of her son and mother. "We are planning the mission at this moment, Your Highness."
"And does that include me?" Tess asked darkly.
General Steren frowned. "Your Highness, that would be an extremely risky move. It wouldn't be prudent at all."
Tess spun around and gazed unwaveringly at the General. "And how logical do you think I am when it comes to my family, General Steren?" she rebuked. "They have my mother and my son as you said, and it will be a cold day in hell before I let another thing happen to either of them. I've been held back because it wasn't the 'right time', or 'someone's life was in danger' - well it's payback time."
Fadilia noted her daughter-in-law's steady and resolute tone when speaking about her involvement in the rescue. She understood the restless and frustrated emotions that waged within Tess' soul and spirit. No one could have convinced her to run and hide when Khivar attacked her family, but her son saw to it that she was unable to protest, having her drugged and taken away.
"I don't think that is wise," General Steren said tersely.
"Well it doesn't matter what you think," Tess spat. She glanced briefly at Fadilia, as if seeking her support. "I am going on that mission, if it's the last thing I do."
"Exactly my point," General Steren growled. "It cannot be the last thing you do!"
"What else would you have her do, General?" Fadilia interrupted the debate. "She will face Khivar, and God willing, with my son at her side. How much more difficult and dangerous will this mission be?" she countered.
General Steren tensed at the direction of this conversation. "We have capable men to oversee this mission, Your Highnesses," he explained calmly. "Commander Michael will lead the expedition."
"Then you should have no qualm with my decision," Tess reasonably argued. "And with both, Michael and I, there, you should be twice more at ease."
General Steren opened his mouth to protest when the entranceway opened once again, revealing Michael's full stature. "I guess no one else could sleep either," he quipped dryly.
"What's going on here?" he asked uncertainly. "One of the servant guys told me I could find you in here." He entered the room cautiously.
"Commander Michael," General Steren sighed irascibly. "Would you not agree that Queen Tess should remain hidden in the confines of the mountain?"
Michael glanced between the three strong-willed individuals. "Yes," he replied. "She would probably be safer..."
Tess let out an exasperated cry. "How can you say that?" she yelled angrily.
Michael held up his hand, signaling Tess to be quiet. "Let me finish." He turned back to General Steren, who looked skeptically at Michael. "But Tess is the strongest, most powerful aliens I've ever encountered. And if she's mad, there's no telling what will happen," Michael added, glancing back at Tess, whose expression changed to gratitude. "If I want anyone to fight by my side, it would be Tess."
General Steren was speechless. He looked dejected and irritable.
Fadilia gazed understandingly at her close confidante. "Have faith General Steren, the One has a Plan," she said soothingly. "They will not be harmed."
General Steren looked warily at Fadilia's words of encouragement and glanced up at Michael and Tess. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "You will join the mission." He glanced back at Fadilia, who nodded approvingly, and groaned. "I was only thinking of your safety, Your Highness."
Tess nodded slowly. "I understand, General Steren," she said appreciatively. "But I need to do this."
General Steren and Tess locked gazes and an understanding passed between them. "Well then, let's begin."
~~~
"What do you think he's up to, General?" the Captain asked, as they stood before the stasis unit, which held Princess Vilandra.
The General thoughtfully tapped his finger against his bottom lip. "He'll come for them."
"But how? The human has no memory of this place."
The General smiled wickedly. "If he looks hard enough, he'll see we made a 'mistake' while erasing the humanoid's memory," he muttered under his breath. "If the King has regained a minute amount of his powers, he'll know where we are."
The Captain began to chuckle at the underhanded scheme of the General's, although he wasn't aware of the secret. "You're so clever, General."
"Don't be such a suck up, Captain Liesner," the General growled irritably. The words stored, in the humanoid mind, was useful when expressing insults to his subordinates. He quite rather enjoyed it.
"Yes Sir."
The General folded his arms across his chest and turned to the Captain. "Ready the troops, it's only a matter of time before the 'Great King' arrives," he said confidently. "And we wouldn't want to welcome him with anything less than he deserves, right Captain?"
The dark, stooping Hispanic captain nodded eagerly. "Oh definitely. His Majesty will be so pleased with your easy victory."
The General waved the captain off, and turned his focus back to the other Royal he had captured with such ease. As the corners of his lips curled into a victorious smirk, he tilted his head and clasped his hands together. One against so many...it almost doesn't seem fair. A low rumble emitted from the pit of his stomach and rose up into his throat, until it reached his lips and a dark and maniacal laugh filled the room.
Almost.
