Preface
*An explanation of things to come*
Explanation is usually required by popular society for almost everything you do. It's necessary, you see.
Explanation is the linking of two minds in an idea…in an understanding. Sometimes, the concept of required
explanation suggests a negative connotation, but that is merely an assumption on the part of the individual. Even
when circumstances dictate that an explanation is likely to be false, an explanation is required all the same. If you
strike, you must have a good explanation. If you accuse, then you must have a good explanation. If you kill…
…If you kill…
…Is there anything that can give sufficient 'explanation' for such a thing?
…In any case, as I've said, you only need an explanation for an act of negative proportions. You do not
require an explanation to smile, even though you will often be asked why you are smiling. There is no required
response. You can respond with 'I am smiling because I feel like smiling' and that is good enough for any person.
After all, a smile is non-threatening. It requires no explanation.
I'm quite sure this tale is non-threatening.
But this will require some explanation.
As to whether this is a negative act, I cannot tell you. Perhaps it is. I'm not sure.
I cannot tell you who I am. But I see everything. Even you at this very moment. I bore witness to the birth of
your world. I watched as your civilization began. I observed and kept my silent vigil as violent conflict was brought to
bear upon the beauty of your own culture. But out of those terrible experiments into the unknown, steps toward peace
always followed.
What you do not know is that there is a cause behind every one of these horrible occurrences. A common
thread that always brings two groups to terrible catastrophe, and that leads to the downfall of gods. Some would argue
that violence is in your nature. They would simply satisfy themselves with believing that they cannot change what they
do not understand. This is because that they do not realize…that they do not want to realize…that your 'violent nature'
is a carefully prefabricated lie. It is within all of you, this figurehead. It is a coveted dream of the powers of evil. It has
existed since the beginning of time, just as I have.
I am the check to that force. I am the opposite. I am all that opposes it.
The tale that I am about to tell you happens in the far future. It contains elements that you may find have no
bearing on your life. You'll tell me that you don't have anything to do with this 'future war' nonsense. But I have
chosen you to hear this story. I have chosen you to believe.
Somewhere within the many pages of this vast chronicle, you will find myself. I was a participant in this tale.
I was there. Perhaps you will discover who I am, and why I am telling you this story. But it will take concentration on
your part. It is not required of you at all…but perhaps you will understand if you know my reasons, and my motives.
The people in this story are real. They lived…and fought…and some died for their efforts. They were the
hopes and dreams of the entire world, for only they were in the right places, at the right times, to make a difference.
They are the best-kept secret in the entire world, for if you were to know of their existence or of their roots, you would
be able to change the future, and this story would cease to exist. I cannot allow this to happen…I cannot allow the
future to change. Trust me…take a leap of faith. Anything that you must do to suspend your disbelief and set free
your spirit, for these events are very real…and they cannot be stopped.
I leave any further interpretations of this web of truths to you. I will refer to myself as one of many…as one of
you, for it is easier for you to understand if I speak with your own voice. From this point on, I am simply a whisper in
the darkness.
And so, let us proceed. We will begin with a mystery.
Prologue
*Six months prior to the storyline*
Unfortunately, among the twists and turns of fate that we call life, there are places where we must stop and
wonder if life is really what we make it out to be. Life, even as a shimmering tapestry of perfection, is an intricate
pattern of deception and cunning. It does a wonderful job of hiding small and bothersome nicks and cuts…it shields
the small and minute things from our passing gaze...but when we examine the tapestry further, we see that it does not
exist at all. The tapestry becomes unraveled the moment we lay eyes on it. Among the shining brightness of the
people of this world, there are darker spots, eclipsed by the brilliance of the status quo. The brilliant reds and indigos
and violets hide the dullness of brown and black beneath…as if they somehow wish to break away from that which is a
part of themselves…
…I apologize. In my travels throughout the cosmos, my language has become slightly…colorful. Allow me
to start again…
Some of our brothers and sisters are born with disadvantages. Some are gifted with them during their
lifetime…some have them forced upon themselves…but it is always the same result. Bodily harm, illness,
disease…some cannot even make sense of the world, as their mind betrays them at every step. And yes, I said gifted.
You see, out of every crisis, there comes a new understanding of life. Those who are born with these crises are
undoubtedly individuals who will learn to appreciate the value of life. But setting aside the deep meaning of such a
thing, these people are often shunned by society as outcasts, and despite the many advances in modern medicine,
these people cannot always fool themselves into believing that they are as normal as everyone else. As sad as this is,
it is the truth, and the truth is always what we must face.
To cure these 'disabilities'…these, 'problems' as you call them, humankind has developed many kinds of
therapy. Broken bones can be mended by use of a splint. Stitches can be applied to severe wounds to make sure
they stay closed. Tortured minds are consoled and nurtured by the trained oration of psychiatric therapists…
Some people cannot be saved. But those that are saved stand as a reminder that 'progress' is being made.
Now, if you were to query one such professional dedicated to erasing these imperfections, you would notice
that they are quite different from one another. One might be called a doctor. One might be an optometrist. One might
be a genetic engineer. However, their purpose remains the same; To battle inanimate objects and microscopic life
forms intent on destroying the quality of life. They live to 'save' us from harm.
Now, in this case, let us suppose that you approached one of these men or women that handled serious
physical injury cases. Let us further assume that you ask them what treatment would be required to repair several third
degree burns, two compound fractures (The first of the femur, the second of the radius), a concussion, and a tearing of
both the bicuspid and tricuspid cardiac valves.
This person would most likely inform you that the patient had little chance of surviving. Even if the patient
was rushed immediately to the hospital, they would most likely die on the operating table. They might even remark that
even in hundreds of years, this patient would still most likely die despite advances in medical technology.
It's really a shame that we wouldn't be able to save them, they might tell you.
…How surprised would they be if they discovered that without any aid, someone lived through this tragedy?
Hate. It was what drove her onward. It was an insurmountable pressure beneath her, forcing her upward at
the speed of thought. It boiled and seethed beneath her, begging and pleading to be set free upon the world. It was
the only thing that penetrated the cold depths of her psyche. The only thing that existed within her world.
Hatred…and revenge.
Her skin had been burned. But she had repaired it.
Her bones were fractured. But she had mended them.
Her thoughts had been cloudy. But they had cleared.
Her heart had stopped beating. But she had breathed new life into her body.
*Just a little longer. Then I'll be free.*
A day, two days, a week, a month, a year, a decade.
Through the infinite sleep of the people of the Earth, the hatred kept her going. Storms of ice and mountains
of fire raged over her head, but the apocalypse above stirred her not.
She knew. They were still alive.
She was calm, calculating. She was overcome with the desire for a strike against those who had opposed
her. Every second…every moment…every thought…it was there.
And then, one day, she was ready.
The twilight slowly beaming down on the ocean surface was gentle, calming, serene. The stars shone down
on the glassy surface like a pattern of pinholes against a child's piece of construction paper. Small waves whispered
on the shoreline as they lapped against the sandy frontier of dry land. A small sand crab scurried along the beach,
making tiny marks in the sand with its feet…marks that would be erased only minutes later as the waves embraced
them and reclaimed them as their own. The threshold to the Pacific Ocean was in a constant state of regeneration, a
ring of genesis and apocalypse that would continue onward to a day so distant that it is expressed in billions of years.
Far overhead, in the depths of nothingness, there shone a light against the ebony waters. A light so pale, so
brilliant, that it had come to signify power and holiness among the people of this planet. That light came from Luna, the
first and only natural satellite of Earth.
Perhaps it was coincidence that on this night, the moon shone in a flawless spherical pattern against the
water…a mirror of reality upon the glassy surface.
No matter what you believe, it was no coincidence what happened next.
Out of the ocean she came. The curtain of liquid clung to her body as she rose, retreating with quiet
whispers against itself. Head…shoulders…chest…hips…knees…and then feet. She said nothing, for nothing needed
to be said. Silence had become a friend of her tongue. The remaining salt water that clung to her curves dripped over
her slim, bare form and fell to the soft sand beneath her bare feet. The inquisitive waves lapped at her ankles like the
quiet insinuations of a child to its mother. Her long, crimson hair billowed about in the soft ocean breeze. Her jeweled
red eyes flashed hateful fire at a non-existent watcher. There was no one around to witness her coming. There would
be no observers.
There would be no survivors.
*Now is the time.*
*Now, after so long, I am ready.*
Her head turned slowly, observing the shoreline. The quiet darkness stood as still as the woman herself.
The Pacific coast curved outward to a point, then folded back in on itself like some kind of cloth draped over a
framework…
*This is the right place.*
*This is the right time.*
*Everything is right…*
The slightest hint of a smile crossed her face.
*This is my place.*
*This is my time.*
*…*
The smile vanished without a sound, and the woman herself followed only a moment later.
Chapter 1
~Wanderings~
Deep within the vast confines of the Solar System, there is a planet...a planet all alone in the darkness of
infinity. Well, if you care to be technical, you could say that there are nine, but technicalities are not exactly my cup of
tea, so to speak. This planet was discovered late one night, several hundred years ago when a man in Europe looked
up into the sky. Now, for what happened next to have occurred, luck was most definitely on his side. Not only was
there not a cloud in the sky on that night, but, he had the good fortune to spot something…something he had never
seen before. At the time, this man was unaware of the magnitude of his discovery, but we now know that the gas giant
Uranus is a massive ball of Methane and Carbon Dioxide that makes up one of the nine planets orbiting the sun.
Uranus itself is comprised mainly of Nobel Gases. Knocked on its side, the equator circles the planet in an
upright fashion, the poles pointing to the left and right like some kind of cosmic joke. Several rings encircle the planet
above the equator, captured forever by the forces of gravity. The upper layer of the atmosphere is hazy and
concealing, hiding the immense rage and turmoil beneath. Indeed, under the façade of peaceful aqua, there is a
boiling system of storms and cloud layers. In this place, the strongest metals are ripped to shreds and the likes of
hurricanes and typhoons are dwarfed by storms that not even Dante could have imagined in his writings of the Inferno.
Orbiting this sphere of aquamarine methane are more than ten moons, silent companions of the raging giant
above. Most of these moons are merely collections of various minerals and ore deposits. However, three of these
moons have been touched by the greatest imitator of the forces of natural creation that has ever been known; Man.
With his wisdom and power, the three among many were transformed into habitable worlds, and teemed with life. Two
of these moons will not be discussed here. However, the third of the three, Titania, is different. It is here, on Titania,
that my telling of these events begins.
Titania is the largest moon of Uranus. Indeed, in order to be large enough to provide some resemblance of
Earth's gravity, mankind wasn't presented with too many choices. Having been chosen, however, Titania was now an
important location on the maps of Starships. Two cities adorned the surface of the recently terraformed world. The
first, the capital city, was a fantastic place of learning, art, music, and peace. White spires and crystalline structures
were predominant. High technology reigned. Graceful curves and shining buildings were characteristic of this place.
It was a place of magic, a place of power…and above all, a triumph for the sciences of mankind. Over five million
people lived within the ebbs and flows of masonry, which was named Selestria.
The other city of the two was smaller, but only on the surface. Alexandria, named after the ancient library
from distant times forgotten, was an underground city. Hollowed out by unknown means, the main cavern of
Alexandria was so massive that it supported its own weather system and ecology. A fantastic sight to behold was a
thundercloud pouring water from the heavens, when the heavens that were spoken of were beneath your feet.
However, because of reasons unknown, Alexandria had been silent for several years before the beginning of these
events. Only after this story was compiled was the reason for Alexandria's silence discovered.
There was one more settlement on Titania, but it was not mentioned because it was not a citadel of learning,
or a fantastic underground cavern, or any such place. Nyason, a small community on the other side of the moon from
Selestria, was actually a military garrison of sorts, enclosed within the towering walls of early paranoia and defense.
Nyason was actually the first settlement on Titania, and accordingly, it was built to withstand anything short of a ground
assault. The town had close to three-hundred men, women, and children within its walls, seventy of which were
required to form a sort of colonial militia. This may seem like a ludicrously inadequate policy, however, when it comes
to governmental procedures, it should be noted that the number seventy doesn't look too large on paper.
I should add that throughout history, it has always been easy to overlook fatal shortcomings when they are
simply words on a page.
Inside the garrison itself, there is a watchtower. It was built when the garrison was established, so many
years ago in days of distant memory. Standing thirty meters high, it served as one of the only defenses to the garrison.
It had once shone with the luster of better days, but soon it began to show signs of age and use. It stood steadfast,
performing the duty it was constructed for day after day, year after year. Men from the Titanian Militia took shifts
standing on top of the tower, gazing over the horizon…watching for an enemy that would never come.
Well, at least, for an enemy that did not come until now.
Kyle was on duty tonight. It had already been several hours since he had ascended the watchtower and
began his vigil…though the time seemed to stretch into eons when he gave half a thought to the task he was supposed
to be performing. His gaze trailed over the endless depths of nothingness in the sky, searching for the slightest flicker
of movement. Of course, there was none, and even if there were, it would have been a miracle for him to have seen it.
His eyes would have to be in the exact location of a flicker of light that would only appear for a moment as it sped by.
However, there were exceptions to the rule…times when something would be seen amidst the twinkle of the heavens,
and times when that something wouldn't vanish in the space between moments. The warning bell would be rung in
that particular 2-1-2 pattern…the militia members who were there and awake would rush out of the barracks with their
oculars and a twinkle in their eye. You see, the members of the militia all shared the same fascination with the
unknown, the same spark that called them to the stars. It wasn't necessarily something of note, or of interest for that
matter...it was more of a character quirk, a deeps sense of duty. It was a matter of character, and for the men who
made their home inside the base, being a man of character meant you aspired for the stars above.
The sightings that the militia members made weren't anything of exceptional note…a UEF Transport on its
way to Neptune, or a UEF Frigate re-supplying the colonies, or a UEF Mining Vessel…there was nothing that called for
serious action. Besides, as massive as the ships were up close, from this distance, they were merely small flecks and
flashes. You could get the same thrill from a Firefly, as long as you didn't mind the difference in distance. It almost
becomes a thing of humor when you consider that the militia members took far more notice of passing ships then they
did of the night sky itself. Such a thing of infinite mass and depth was eventually just taken for granted. It was seen as
a harmless void, a source of amusement rather than one of danger. The stars were friends, the planets allies, the
darkness a source of light. The endless twinkling of the distant celestial bodies was like a hypnotic dance, drawing
Kyle into the mystery and wonder that waited in the far reaches of his galaxy. The color red, soft and subdued, kept
him anchored to the ground beneath his feet…the source of which shone atop the tower and gave a quiet click every
time it snapped on. Was it some kind of poetic metaphor that he couldn't let his thoughts be truly free because of a
blinking light bulb? Maybe so…maybe not. The only sound to be heard was the occasional slow gust of wind. He
would not get his answer tonight. It was still, quiet, and lonely. Just the way Kyle liked it.
Why, then, couldn't he just tune out from all of this? Maybe it was because of that odd thing he felt called
'duty.'
As things stood, his 'duty', as he thought of it, was one of no purpose. Earth or its neighboring planets had
not been threatened for years and years, ever since the ancient wars of old. Kyle was, of course, not one of the
surviving 'spanners'…those who had been placed into suspended animation by the queen, so he had no recollection of
any of the conflicts that defined his world. Being only 18 years of age, Kyle was just now developing a fascination with
the past and the powers that were. History wasn't always his favorite topic in school, but it was the one that he most
enjoyed reading about on his spare time. Ancient wars, power struggles, sacrifices in the name of friendship…it almost
made him feel as if he had some kind of commitment to be a better person. Joining the militia made him feel as if he'd
been fulfilling part of that commitment…and it eased his guilty conscience, which demanded that he do something
great and honorable with his life. Being idle was something that he wanted...rest was something he was never too
caught up on. To give up the Militia and live a life of normalcy wasn't an option.
Was this 'need', this 'feeling' that he had to make something of himself, the same thing as the 'duty' that he
half-despised, he wondered?
Kyle had been born in the settlement of Nyason, on Titania. Part of only the second generation to live on the
rocky planetoid, all the other inhabitants of his moon had come through the ancient warp gate long ago. The Queen
herself had only given Titania an atmosphere recently. Well, relatively recently, if you spoke in terms of the Queen's
lifetime. His parents told him that it had been a great honor to be chosen as settlers for this planet…the selection
process was so fine-toothed that several prominent governmental and civilian figures were denied the right to be some
of the first colonists. He gave himself a smirk as he thought about all of their money and power going to waste on a
process that they could not sway for the life of them. It was empowering to know that there was something about his
family, and therefore himself, that made him inherently special in some way.
But as inherently special as he was, or as vitally important he might be, or as egotistically blown-out-of
proportion his thoughts were, he couldn't escape from where he was right now.
Kyle had volunteered to be one of about seventy people in the Titanian Militia to escape...to trade the rigors
of one existence for the callings of another. He wanted the most out of his life…he wanted to have Death smile at him
and he wanted to smile back. It was that sort of predestination…that assurance of fates, that Kyle wanted. That sort of
life couldn't be found on his own tiny moon. Far away…in the distant cold of space, there was a planet where the stuff
that miracles are made of was commonplace. It was a planet of perfection, of wonder, of power…the mythical Avalon,
Shangri-La, and Eden, all in one.
The Blue Planet, third of the nine…Earth.
Kyle immediately went over what he knew of the past in his mind. Earth hadn't always been that way. It was
once a place of violent war, of secret heroics hidden behind secret identities. [Once upon a time, the Earth was
contained within the mighty grip of Chaos]… Kyle recited inside his own head. [But then, light came unto the world,
and the Hand of Chaos was driven from the Earth by the Queen of Silver Radiance…]
Kyle stopped himself. He had known the story of the beginning of the golden age since he was a child.
Indeed, it was the first thing taught to all children after they had gained the means to understand it. Something
wouldn't let him stay comfortable, though…somehow, he thought that with peace having lasted more than one
thousand fifty years, humankind was getting a bit 'rusty', perhaps. That wasn't a very good word, he knew, but it was
hard to explain… Kyle didn't like the notion that the leaders of the government were snug in their shells of sanctuary,
but he figured that the Queen would always be on her guard. The Queen of Silver Radiance…she couldn't possibly let
anything happen.
*Why do I feel a sense of urgency in the air, then...? What does it mean...?*
Secretly, Kyle hoped that there would be some kind of horrible threat to mankind. Some kind of disturbance
out in that twinkling abyss, some kind of trouble that decided that the Solar System was a ripe target for an
attack…anything at all. Of course, Kyle caught himself mid-thought. He didn't want the consequences of a war. The
UEF was strong, but small…the Titanian Militia itself could never hold off an attack for very long, and there was only
the one warp gate on the planet. Yet, he wanted a war…a one-sided war, for only one reason; to watch the attackers
learn the lesson of never assaulting Earth and its outlying protectorates.
[Assisted by her warriors of air and darkness, the Queen of Silver Radiance banished the source of Chaos to
never return…and the world was at peace…]
All young girls who learned of the ancient wars of old wanted to be like the 'Warriors of Air and Darkness' the
story spoke of…to be like the guardians. Which one they wished to be always varied, but it was always the same
perspective.
Kyle searched his memory for what he had memorized so long ago…
[...Their faces were as the shine of all the planets and stars in the heavens, their bearing and poise was that
of the most ancient of all the creatures in the universe, their hearts as noble as heroes of legend, and their power the
most destructive that the forces of Man and Nature had ever seen…]
Ten warriors, wielding awesome powers, and protectors of all mankind. To stand against them was folly, for
they were the incarnation of power. All those who stood in their way were utterly and totally defeated. The immortal
guardians, blessed with eternal life by the power of the Queen of Silver Radiance, and survivors of a culture long
absent from the world. They were, (with a few exceptions being people who had managed to live to extremely old age)
the only survivors of the pre-catastrophe Earth. They were, with a few more exceptions, the only survivors of the
Nemesis Invasion. And they were the only ones that called the Queen by her name. His greatest dream was to meet
one of them…just one. To see any of the guardians was the greatest honor one could have. To meet them was
something you passed down in your family for ages. To know one as a friend-
Well, Kyle had never heard of that actually happening. He figured that normal people like himself weren't
really the kind of person they would exchange words with… He wondered if they even lead any semblance of a normal
life, or if they did the things that Kyle did every day…
Stupid, Kyle thought. Of course not.
He sometimes wondered if they were even human. Some stories said that the Queen wasn't even from
Earth. It sounded silly, of course...how could that be true? The pictures that existed of her looked human enough…
And then of course, there was his homeworld, Titania, the place of ordinary humans such as himself. They
were free to live out their lives here, under the watchful eyes of the Earth. Kyle's mother had assured him that they
would never have to experience the terrors of war, because they had guardian angels on their shoulders. Four of ten
were supposedly watching them. *One of our protectors rivals the Queen herself with her power, his mother had told
him. We will always be safe here.*
Kyle remembered those words always. Those words were the death knell of his ambitions of excitement and
change. His mother was right…well, his mother was half right. It was true that Titania and the entire Uranian system
was under the protection of the four most powerful guardians…but he had noticed that the most recent information
about the Outer Four was several years old. It bothered him…it nagged at the back of his mind like an itch that
wouldn't go away. Why wasn't there any information from the past five years or so? If they were under watchful eyes,
were those eyes keeping hidden…?
Whether the guardians were watching or not…whether or not he wanted to be safe…whether or not he was
doing his 'duty' as a person was what went through Kyle's mind as he watched the sky, and waited…
And wait he did…for something…anything…to happen.
"Kyle," came a voice. His response was delayed…his mind still immersed in thoughts of wars and power.
"Oh, hey Alex," Kyle said back. He turned his body halfway toward the lift that had been standing behind him
as he watched the heavens. "What's the problem?"
"No problem." He walked out of the lift and stepped out onto the small observation platform, holding two
mugs. The floor they stood on was not solid, it was more of a grating. Through the holes, you could see all the way to
the ground, far below...to some, the holes were a bit too large for their taste. It was as if you'd seep through the
grating, like water, and fall to a swift demise. Not surprisingly, all the members of the militia knew who in their number
was afraid of heights.
"I came to relieve you. Have some hot chocolate," Alex continued, and shoved a mug at his friend. Kyle
grabbed the cup of warm liquid eagerly. Being so far from the sun, Titania was neither very bright nor very warm in the
evenings. During the day, for some reason, things did get really hot around the garrison. It shouldn't have been so hot
because of the distance, but they wrote it off as an effect of the gravity or something. At night, however, the vapor in
the air formed light dustings of frost on the grass. It came as no surprise to anyone when hot chocolate became a
favorite of the Titanian Militia.
"Gazing at the stars again?" Alex leaned back against the railing of the watchtower.
"Yeah…hey Alex, you ever give half a thought to the past?"
He took a large sip from his mug and swallowed. "Well, my grades might say otherwise, but yeah, every
once in a while. Why bring this up now?"
Kyle clasped his mug between both hands, and gave a glance up to the sky. "Don't you wish you could have
been there, to see the guardians fight for the freedom of the Solar System?"
Alex chuckled a bit. "Here you go again with your little speech."
"Come on, Alex, cut me some slack here. Surely at some point you've wanted to meet the Queen, or
something. Don't you find it the least bit interesting?"
"Well what if I did," Alex proposed, playing along. "What if, for some reason, I was totally obsessed with the
guardians and the past, and I'd give my last dime just to see the back of the Queen's head? You know what I'd do?"
"I don't know, what?"
"I'd name myself Kyle Anson and label myself an obsessive idiot. Then I'd dunk my head in some cold water
and get back down to the Barracks before the guys start getting ideas." Alex flashed his signature grin. "I'd hide any
suspicious magazines I own too, or else my best friend Alex might find them." Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Your brand of humor has me in stitches."
"Well thank you, I kill me too."
"Honestly...if you actually had the chance to meet the Queen, or any of the guardians, for that matter…what
would you do," he probed.
Alex thought for a moment. "Hmm...I'd probably shake her hand, and then introduce myself. I'd tell her that
she was dazzling beautiful, that she had curves to die for, and I'd add that I'm single. I'd also have some sort of
expensive gift ready. Not to mention the kneeling, the professing of the undying love, the candlelight dinners..." Alex
smirked as he finished. Kyle had let his head fall on the metal railing with a soft clank.
"Come on, be serious! I mean, wouldn't it be the greatest thing if we even got to see one in person?"
He sipped his cocoa in a moment of thought. "…Yeah, I guess so." His words flowed a bit rougher than his
drink. "But you've got to be realistic. They don't just make publicity runs. You don't see advertisements with their
stamp of approval or anything."
Kyle leaned against the railing once more, and gazed upward. "True...but maybe…someday, maybe one will
come here…"
"Hoping for a particular one, are we?"
"Do you ever think about anything besides women? Or do you actually have the rest of your brain in that big
head of yours?"
"Of course I think about other things." Alex had a smile on his face that hinted he was up to something.
"Oh yeah? Could have fooled me. Like what?"
Alex set his cocoa down, and quickly wrapped his arms around Kyle. "You know that I just can't resist you
when you're frustrated, honey…"
Kyle elbowed Alex in the stomach, who figured that he probably deserved it. "Goddamn you, I shouldn't
have bothered asking..."
Alex snickered to himself. "Oh, hit me harder, baby..."
"I'm warning you, smart guy. Blackmail makes a wonderful income source."
"Okay, okay, settle down. I can resist my attraction to your manly pecs for the moment." He laughed under
his breath before Kyle made a motion that suggested he might throw his hot cocoa on Alex's head. The two of them
settled down quickly enough, and their conversation continued.
"Seriously, though, if a guardian showed up here for some reason, which one would you be hoping for," Kyle
asked. Alex sipped his cocoa, then leaned over the railing in thought.
"That's a tough one…"
"I'm sorry that I'm making you pick a specific one, mister suave and cool." Alex smiled in appreciation.
"Apology accepted. Well, if I had to pick just one…I guess I would like to see the Queen. To see a living
legend like her, well, the bragging rights alone would be bliss. Besides, you know that I'd have her digits within five
minutes anyway."
"News update: The Queen left her husband today to pursue a romantic fling with an idiotic sap from a
backwater planet..." Kyle drummed on the metal railing to add effect.
"Exactly." Alex winked. "How about you? Does one of the guardians have a secret shrine under your bed?"
Kyle sipped his cocoa and chuckled. "Not exactly...I don't think I have a preference."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"They're all so famous…I'm not sure I'd have the guts to talk to one of them."
"That's because you're just not the type who knows that he's large and in charge, my friend," Alex said. He
turned to face an imaginary person in front of him. "Hi, I'm Alex, and you have got to be tired from running through my
head all day long..."
Kyle laughed to himself. He'd known Alex in preschool…they went way back. Alex was only a year older
than he was, and he had always been the ladies man…though, whether the ladies thought so was up to debate. He
had always been convinced of his own womanizing capabilities; His philosophy was that he was God's gift to women,
and so he had better make use of himself. They'd basically been brothers to each other since as long as they could
remember.
He noticed that Alex was going for the last drops in his cup. "Done with your cocoa?"
"Yeah. Mind taking it back down for me?"
"Sure thing. I've got nothing better to do." Kyle grabbed both the mugs and headed for the lift. "I'll see you tomorrow
at formation."
"Right," Alex said. "Sweet dreams, honey."
"Cut that out," Kyle snapped, and shut the lift doors without another word. Watching as the pod descended
back down to the surface, Alex turned back to his watch, and chuckled.
"Someday, that kid will learn not to take me too seriously."
Being off duty for the night was a daily thing, but it never really lost its magic for Kyle.
He thought back to his conversation with Alex, about the guardians. *I'd add that I'm single,* he said. Was it
that simple? Were the guardians so normal?
It was a foolish notion. The guardians were guardians…they weren't supposed to lead normal lives like him.
Their definition of normal was something far different than what he saw as daily life. There were textbooks that told of
the guardian's lives before they became the embodiment of the golden age. Supposedly, the guardians were just as
normal as everyone else, once upon a time.
He stopped over a bridge…well, over the bridge. The New Tiber was the only source of water on the moon,
if you didn't count the shipments that were brought by the UEF every two months. When the moon had been
terraformed, there were problems with the formation of the Water Table, so it was still righting itself naturally. Until
then, the Queen had created the river to give the settlers some natural water and enjoyment. It passed by Selestria,
and then by Alexandria in its course, eventually flowing into the unknown wastelands of Titania where it most likely
boiled off as it roamed into the burning heat of the deserts. The New Tiber was exceptionally clear (the scientists and
ecologists in the capital did a fantastic job of keeping the water purified), and so on this night, it was as smooth as a
mirror. The water reflected his face perfectly, and his pseudo-double stared back at him deep in thought. A bluish-
green hue lit the area of the river as the huge figure of the planet Uranus loomed in the sky. All was quiet, except for
the occasional gust of wind or closing of a door. The river itself flowed rather slowly…no babbling sections of rapids or
rushing waterfalls. Not many people stayed out after midnight, save the occasional Militia member such as himself.
This kind of night was Kyle's favorite, where he could be truly alone and think his own thoughts.
Absentmindedly, he reached down to his pocket and removed his prize possession…his pocket watch. It
was inscribed with the royal symbol of the Earth. It had caught his eye when he went to Selestria for the annual Solar
Fair. The representatives of the event on Earth had actually decided to hold it on his moon five years ago. *Since you
like that watch so much, you can have it for your birthday* his mom had said. He had never told her that he picked it
because he wanted to be closer to the guardians. It made him feel like he had a place among them…like his ambitions
could somehow be put to good use someday if he kept it around.
One story that he had learned was always his favorite…the 'History of the Guardians' textbook told of a
woman that had been the Queen's best friend earlier in her life. They did everything together, even though that woman
had no special power of her own. That woman was now the minister of finance in the government.
It signaled to Kyle that it was possible for him to be friends with a guardian. Perhaps, someday, he would get
the chance to talk to one, or to shake one's hand…or maybe even to make a lasting impression… *Oh, Kyle…so nice
to see you again…* That's what they'd say. He knew they spoke in Japanese, but he spoke very little…he was
originally of American descent. The language of the guardians sounded so natural to him, even if he couldn't
understand it…
"What I wouldn't give to be someone like Osaka Naru…"
He gazed upward, looking for a sign. The stars, however, gave no answer beyond silent twinkles. They just
stared back from their eternal place in the heavens.
The wind picked up for a spell, snapping Kyle out of his trance. Thinking nothing of his problems, he
continued to walk, but then stopped. A soft tune blew through the air, lingering as an echo in his mind.
*How long has that been there?*
*…Violin music?*
He stepped off the bridge, trying to make out the origin of the soft melody. His ear led him down to the
riverbank, which threaded out of Nyason and into the forests beyond. The tune continued, almost describing a picture
in his mind. It drove him onward, drawing him as if he were summoned not of his own will. Closer and closer he came,
and the call continued, beckoning in a voice he could not resist. It continued to grow inside his mind, swelling,
pressing, forcing him into a run. It was almost a relief when he approached the source, and instinctively slowed down.
A woman sat upon a large gray stone, playing to her celestial audience, violin in hand. Her fingers moved
deftly across silvery strings, delicate horsehair singing in a language far more personal than words. A black dress of
fine silk covered her slim form, necklace and earrings of shining aquamarine glinting against the glowing planet in the
sky. Her face was a beautiful white, her eyes hypnotizing pools of teal. Long, rippling tresses of strangely natural
aquamarine-colored hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, stopping only at her waist. She seemed as if she
belonged among the grasses and flowers of the clearing.
That moment lasted an eternity for Kyle. He stared for thousands of years in the space of a single instant.
How many lifetimes did he live as he listened to her song…?
And then, in the same strange way he had first come to hear this melody, it stopped.
The woman put down her violin. Her eyes were closed, but a hint of a smile graced her features. "I can't see
you, but I know you're there."
Kyle froze, and realized that he had not done as good a job at remaining hidden as he had thought. The
woman opened her eyes, and raised her head.
"Come out, where I can see you."
Slowly, he moved out from behind the trees that masked his position. The woman turned to face him and
looked him over analytically.
"It's a little late for children to be out," she stated. "Or do you always wander aimlessly through the forest?"
"I was just wondering why a strange woman was sitting in the middle of a forest playing a violin in the middle
of the night, actually."
"Well met," she replied.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"You're going to stay no matter what I answer, so don't bother asking in the first place," the woman added.
*Sharp...* He crossed the distance between them in a few steps. She looked to be about twenty-five or so,
and certainly looked exquisite. Not surprisingly, Kyle asked to sit down.
"I liked your song…so I stayed to listen to it, but I ended up staying for longer than I planned," Kyle said.
"Sorry for disturbing you."
The woman analyzed his words. "It's not a problem. I shouldn't have been out playing tonight."
"No, no, your music was wonderful…I guess I should have just kept my distance."
"Curiosity isn't a sin," the woman amended.
"Well, you've certainly got me curious," he replied, with a slight grin. "I'm Kyle Anson."
The woman drew her hands in and crossed her arms lightly. "You can call me Nerissa."
Kyle puzzled over that for half a moment. "Nice to meet you, Nerissa."
"Likewise, Mr. Anson," she replied, reaching for her violin case.
"Just Kyle. The only people that call me Mr. Anson are my commanding officers."
"Alright, Kyle." She was paying more attention to her violin than to her conversation partner. Kyle knew a
sinking ship when he was on one.
"So…ah, are you from around here?"
"No, I'm visiting."
"Oh really? From where?"
"From Triton," she replied.
"Wow, you live in the Neptunian system?" Kyle had a look of excited curiosity on his face. "I thought they just
settled there."
"Yes, they did," she replied, putting away her bow. "I had something to do with the founding of the colony."
"Did you see the Queen?"
Nerissa stopped for a moment only, then continued with her task. "Of course not, the Queen was under
guard."
Kyle paused for a second, thinking that he was sounding like an idiot. He idly wondered if it was still possible
to save his dignity.
"So, Nerissa…what brings you to our moon?" She smiled a bit and closed her violin case.
"Personal reasons."
"What?"
"I'm meeting someone here tomorrow," she replied. "That's why I came."
"Anyone special?" Kyle probably sounded a bit more interested than he should have been.
"You could say that."
"Then, I take it you don't feel like talking about it?"
"Well, you're certainly inquisitive for a strange man in a forest. How would you react?"
"Well, you're certainly mysterious for a strange woman in a clearing," he responded, with a smile. "I suppose
we'd both be lying to each other."
She laughed softly, then glanced at the stars above. "I suppose."
Kyle looked up as well. "So…let's see…have you ever seen a guardian?"
The woman turned to him. "Hm?"
Realizing how strange the question sounded in the first place, he attempted to explain. "Well, I study their
history…sort of a hobby, really, but I've never actually seen one of them."
Nerissa analyzed the question for a moment. "No…"
Kyle blinked, as if he expected a different answer. "Oh…" She closed her eyes, and her lovely face seemed
stricken with exhaustion.
"It's a great honor to meet a guardian, after all."
"You think so?"
"Who doesn't," she replied.
Kyle wanted to answer, but he realized that anything he said would probably be a bit foolish. He held his
tongue.
"What are *you* doing here?" She turned a bit curious, but there was a drive behind her words. "You're just
as strange as I am, you know."
"I'm a member of the locally stationed militia. We're based in Nyason, over there," He said, turning and
pointing in the direction of the settlement.
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this little meeting of ours. I'm really not supposed to be
here."
"Sure, if that's what you want..."
Nerissa rested both her hands on the rock beneath her, and nodded slightly. "Thank you." Kyle stood up.
"Do you need a place to stay? You don't exactly look like you've got something planned…no offense."
"I don't think I'll need one," she said. "I enjoy sleeping outdoors."
"It gets really cold here later on at night…you should come to the settlement and find someplace warm."
"Exactly what are you asking?" She sounded a bit defensive. Kyle blushed a bit.
"Well, if it means saving you from having to freeze to death? I suppose I'm asking you if you'd like to spend
the night."
She eyed Kyle suspiciously. "I thought you said you were with the military?"
"Technically, yes…but if you're, ah, in some kind of trouble with the armed forces or something, it won't
matter…" Upon further thought, Kyle realized that sounded quite ridiculous.
"Nothing of the sort. I just don't like people all that much," she replied. Her voice sounded as if it was trying
to replace something with forced anger.
"You can ask the guards at the garrison gate…they have an extra room with a lock on the door," he offered.
Nerissa closed her eyes in thought.
"I'm afraid that it's too far out of my way…but thank you, for your hospitality. I haven't spoken to a kind
person in so long…"
Her voice trailed off…and so did she. Kyle snapped out of his listening trance to stop her from leaving.
"Wait! You didn't tell me where you were going to stay instead!"
"Well, that's none of your business. Good night."
Her form silently melted into the surrounding forest. Within ten seconds, Kyle could no longer see the
woman or hear any sign of her.
*How strange...*
Deciding that pondering this encounter would make a great way to pass the morning drills, Kyle put it out of
his mind and started for home.*
"Hey Kyle, wake up, the Guardians are here..."
Click, boom. Bulls-eye. Mister Anson was up in a second. "Where? Which one?"
Alex chuckled from his bunk, adjacent to Kyle's. "Good morning merry sunshine. And how are we today?"
Kyle grabbed his pillow and threw it, hard, at Alex, who fell off his bed from the force.
"You jerk! Don't lie to me like that!"
Alex got back up on his bunk with a grin. "Who said I was lying?"
"Shut up, wise guy," Kyle said, getting out of bed. "I hate mornings when I have to deal with your smart
mouth."
The barracks of the Titanian Militia were busy this morning, with volunteer sentries hustling and bustling with
their daily tasks. Messages were delivered, weapons inventoried, and drills performed. Squads of five men were
practicing with pulse rifles at the garrison's small firing range. The huge warp gate, old, dormant, and rusted with age,
stood in the center of the base. It hadn't been used in twenty years. Men walked every which-way, busy in their
assigned tasks. Hearing the activity outside only helped a little to wake Kyle up.
"Have some coffee, sleepy." Alex offered Kyle a steaming mug, who accepted it warmly.
"Caffeine, preferred by nine out of ten soldiers over Reveille in the morning. Aaaahh…I'm going back to
bed."
"Well, I hate getting up too, but at least I actually DO get up," Alex said. "Get your uniform, we're up for
patrol duty today."
"Oh, joy."
Patrol duty was never very fun. It usually included marching several miles in the blistering wastelands of the
planet, without meals and without much stopping at all. It was easily the number-one gripe among the men.
"You sound happy," Alex said with a grin.
"Yeah, I was really looking forward to busting my ass marching all over this god-forsaken rock. Shut up."
"My, aren't we irritable this morning. Must be the caffeine kicking in." Alex kicked himself off the bed. "Hurry
up, the last one outside has to carry the Pulse Cannon."
"I am NOT lugging that huge thing all over the place." Kyle announced as he got out of bed and grabbed his
uniform.
"By the way, everyone's saying that you're in the orders of the day."
Kyle looked up. "Oh really? What's up, cleaning duty later on?"
"Nope, this is a direct order to you. From the colonel." Alex stood up, and shouldered his pack. "I bet he
wants to talk to you about something."
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, it had better not be about Daniels' rifle misfiring under his bunk," Kyle said,
obviously hinting at something. Alex waved his hands in defense.
"Hey, hey, I thought we agreed that we didn't know anything about that! Besides, it's orders, not a
communiqué. I'd be a bit more smug if you were in trouble."
Kyle sounded more interested in his reply. "Oh?"
"Maybe you get to miss patrol duty after all," Alex offered, shrugging. He grabbed his rifle and slung it over
his shoulder. "Well, if you do end up marching to hell and back with yours truly, I'll see you later."
"Sure."
Alex left in a quick jog, and Kyle tailed him only long enough to make it to the orders hub. He produced his
personal organizer, and pointed the infrared node toward the red light located on top. Almost immediately, the symbol
of the Titanian Militia appeared on the screen, followed by a text message:
[June 19, 3126 (Thursday).]
[Orders Assigned 0400.]
[High Command is silent.]
[Proceed with daily routines.]
[Stevenson, Adams, Daniels; Inventory Armory at 1200.]
[There is a temporary shortage of coffee due to replicator malfunction.]
[Attn: Anson, Kyle - Input passcode for classified instructions.]
It was just about the same as every other day, excepting the inventory assignments, the coffee thing, and of
course, the section at the bottom.
"You know, I don't seem to recall the Colonel ever giving anyone personalized orders before," Kyle said
absentmindedly, looking over the message. "Well, at worst, he'll tell me that my parents want their son back."
He keyed in his PIN number, and this appeared:
[Your presence has been requested at the highest level.]
[Your patrol duties are suspended temporarily.]
[Report to Central Command at 0815.]
Kyle blinked. "Well, that was certainly cryptic. I wonder what the Colonel wants?"
It normally took a member of the militia about a minute, total, to walk from the barracks to the large building
in the back of the compound. Of course, when you're the only guy in your unit who doesn't have to work patrol duty all
day long with a ton and a half of stuff, you're bound to get a bit of lip.
"Anson, what the hell are you doing mucking around like that? We've got half an hour before our patrol
starts!"
Stevenson had his gear spread out on the parade grounds as he shouted. The unit was already preparing
for the long hike. Kyle waved his organizer over his head like a get-out-of-jail-free card, a grin on his face.
"Sorry Stevenson, I think I'll pass on your delightful company today. How about tea later?"
"Ooh, look who's so special today," Vance chimed in, looking up from his preparations. A few other
members of the squad gave a bit of their attention to the growing conversation.
"Hey, as long as I get to sit in the Command Center while you guys let your feet fall off from running the
hundred-meter dash, I could care less about your whining." Kyle gave the group a triumphant smirk. Shaking his head
in amused disappointment, Alex looked up from his own work, leaning on his Pulse Rifle.
"So, what'd it say, as if I didn't already know," he asked. Kyle crossed the parade ground over to his friend
before giving a rather stern glance to the rest of the unit, who took the hint and went back to work. They faced each
other once more. "Well?"
"It really didn't say much," Kyle explained, handing his organizer to Alex. He read it quickly, then read it
again slowly, as if he missed something. Kyle shrugged. "Told you."
Alex handed it back. "You really shouldn't be showing classified information to your friends, y'know. And it's
0810, you've only got five minutes."
"I'm sure it's nothing really urgent." Kyle crossed his arms. "After all, there hasn't been anything really
pressing since promotion reviews."
"Well, that may be true, but I think everyone else is gonna kill you if you keep flaunting your immunity to
patrol duty." Alex jerked his thumb at the other guys to accentuate his point. Kyle turned toward the squad and spoke
a bit louder than he probably had to.
"It's not my fault if the Colonel thinks I'm special. Maybe other people should start *taking a clue from how I
act* or something."
The other militia members looked up. "And it's not our fault if we beat the hell outta you for playing court
jester, Anson," someone said. The rest of the guys let out a much-needed laugh.
Alex gave Kyle's shoulder a soft hit. "Why don't you get going? I'll stall the enemy here."
"I'm so touched that you'd give your life in my defense."
"Are you kidding? I'd take an assassination for you! Well…not in the chest…or the head…well, not my leg
either…and definitely not the back…"
"Yeah, I get the point, smart guy. Have fun."
"You too," Alex said.
The Command Center was the largest structure in the garrison, next to the colossal warp gate that stood in
the center of the compound. 'Count the Bricks' was a generic punishment sometimes inflicted on members of the
militia, which referred to making someone count the unfathomable number of polished cement stones used in the
building's construction. Inside, the building was surprisingly well-furnished for a military command post. Colonel
Danielowicz was a collector of art and sculpture, and his taste in furniture was equally exotic. As a result, their
command center ended up looking much like a luxury hotel.
Kyle strolled in, stopping to wipe his feet quickly. Any dirt on the floors would quickly be attributed to him. *I
wish he'd get rid of those expensive rugs…they make life so much harder.* Of course, the rugs were nothing
compared to the vases, paintings, and other strange collections of oil paint, canvas, marble, and twists of metal.
Wandering through the forest of modern artistic expression, he reached a pair of walnut double-doors, and knocked
twice. The sound was hard and rich, and it echoed in the large entryway. As soon as it had faded, it was replaced with
a voice.
"Come in, Anson. You're right on time."
Kyle blinked. *He sounds awful sure that it's me…then again, how many other people would be in here this
time of day?* Grasping one of the fat brass door handles, Kyle pushed inward, trying to remember his military
protocols for formal meetings…
He forgot all of that when Nerissa smiled back at him from the Colonel's desk, which threw any semblence of
composure to the wind as the door shut behind him. She was standing next to the Colonel's chair, arms comfortably
crossed behind her back, a smile on her face. The Colonel himself was going over some papers that had originated in
a folder, marked with an official seal.
"Nerissa! What are you doing here?" It didn't really register at the time that he was supposed to be standing
at attention and reporting for his orders. The Colonel didn't seem to mind. He turned to his companion with a raised
eyebrow.
"Nerissa?"
"It's my name," she replied. A red half-jacket was draped over a plain pink blouse that she wore, with a
matching loose pink knee-skirt and a pair of expensive-looking black shoes. Her hair looked the same as it had the
other night...although that was more in the fact that Kyle thought it looked just as beautiful as he remembered it. He
pointed sideways at Nerissa while speaking to his commanding officer.
"Sir, what's she doing here?" The Colonel leaned back in his chair, throwing an odd gaze at Kyle.
"She's got every right to be here, why do you ask?"
Kyle turned to Nerissa, puzzled. "What is he talking about?"
She drew her own organizer from a conservative purse she carried, and with a tap, her security access card
popped out of the side. Unlike Kyle's, hers was gold-colored.
"Miss Nerissa here is with the UEF Security Branch," Colonel Danielowicz explained. "She was sent here on
orders from the highest authority. Her military rank is somewhat equivalent to a Stratego."
Kyle managed a few blinks. Nerissa tilted her head a bit. "Something wrong, Kyle?"
"Uh, no…ah, I mean no sir, or no ma'am, or, um…"
"Anson, pull yourself together," the Colonel said, closing his eyes.
"Yes ma-uh, sir, um, Colonel…" When he figured that he couldn't mess up any further, he saluted, and
snapped to attention. Much to his surprise, neither of his superiors said anything in return, and Nerissa smiled a bit
more.
"It seems that I've decided to take you up on your invitation after all, Mister Anson."
"So I've figured." He tried his best to sound respectful.
Nerissa turned to the Colonel, and dropped a small packet she had been holding onto his desk. "I think you'll
find the data results to be very interesting. Go over it with your senior commanders this afternoon."
"Yes ma'am. Have a pleasant trip."
"Thank you."
She walked out from behind his desk, and took a curving course toward the door. Kyle shot her a puzzled
look as she passed by.
"Follow me," she added.
His first reaction to her quarters was that they were very comfortable. Ornate rugs, soft lighting, and perfect
temperature were all indicators of the atmosphere she preferred. His second reaction was amazement to the amount
of paintings that adorned the room. Wonderful pictures of all kinds, of all subjects, and of all moods were strewn about,
sitting on chairs, lying on tables, hanging on walls, and propped up on the floor. It could have been an art gallery if
there were enough room left for more than five people to stand.
Nerissa had walked into one of the back rooms, leaving Kyle to indulge himself in his surroundings. He
moved about the small open pathway of floor space, the paintings forming a continuous gallery of artistic expression.
One was of an ocean, with a sky of stars above, and a pearl white moon that cast a reflection on the water. The
caption read, 'Serenity.'
"Serenity, huh?" Kyle chuckled to himself in thought. "The one person I'd like to meet and instead of the
Queen, I get a painting."
There were others that caught his eye; people staring into a reflecting pool, only to be greeted with an image
that was not their own; a blonde-haired woman, standing amidst a spectacular windstorm; a picture of a woman turned
to stone; a picture of-
He stopped.
That picture…
That picture of the stone woman was looking at him.
A smile was on her face. A warm, accepting smile. Her poise was one of nobility.
Everything seemed to become dark. The universe shrank until it was just big enough to accommodate the
two of them.
She was magnificent. But her eyes couldn't hide her horror and pain.
The eyes…they bored into his skull…they were so empty, so hollow…
So alone…she looked so alone…
tasukete
Kyle gasped.
tasukete
He tried to turn away, but it had him. He couldn't escape.
tasukete tasukete tasukete tasukete tasuk-
"Kyle!"
He blinked, and shook his head instinctively. His eyes opened, but the picture of the stone woman was
gone.
He had been staring at a mirror.
"Kyle!" Nerissa tried again, shaking his arm. He turned to face her slowly. "What were you doing?"
Kyle glanced at where the stone woman had been, a look of confusion and puzzlement across his features.
"That mirror…" Nerissa glanced at it, obviously confused, but wanting to figure out what in the world was
wrong.
"Now honestly, Kyle, you're not THAT bad looking…" He might have laughed if the incident hadn't disturbed
him so badly.
"N…nevermind…I guess I just need to get more sleep or something…"
Waiting a moment to make sure he would be alright on his own, Nerissa went back to what she had been
doing, organizing paintings. A few more had been brought out from a back room, and set on the remaining empty
easels. When it became clear that Nerissa had no intent of initiating a conversation, Kyle jumped in of his own accord.
"I don't suppose you're going to give me any kind of explanation as to why you're here?"
Righting herself, Nerissa gave the painting she had just placed a critical stare. "I seem to remember you
inviting me to stay. What's wrong with taking a friendly invitation?"
"You didn't tell me anything about your military rank the first time we met," Kyle pointed out.
"Then again, you didn't ask," she added. "You really didn't make too much of an attempt at details before
you invited me to stay at a military installation. I wonder what Internal Affairs would think if they heard about this…"
Kyle weakly gave his reply. "That's not fair…"
"Life isn't fair, Kyle, and neither am I."
She brushed past him with haste, heading for the door. "I'm finished here. We have work to do."
Kyle shielded his eyes from the bright, cold sun as he exited the building, but Nerissa didn't slow down in the
slightest. Apparently, something big was going on, and he wasn't someone who was supposed to be clued in on the
truth. Alex had gathered their unit outside the building, and everyone stood at attention in two rows of seven. His
place in front was missing, but he figured he was going to have better things to do today besides stand in formation.
Nerissa, meanwhile, had made her way to the front of the little assembly. The defiance in her eyes that Kyle had seen
only a moment ago was now banished from her aura of calm. The air seemed to part before her composure. When
she was satisfied that the unit was giving her their undivided attention, she opened her purse to remove the same
golden card he had seen earlier, holding it aloft. Kyle did his best to look as if he knew what was going on.
"This card represents a level nine security clearance, subsection UEF Security Intelligence Operations. I'm
sure all of you know what it means, so I won't patronize you beyond saying that I outrank most anyone in the service.
As of today, I've become the active commander of your unit."
There was no way Kyle could conceal his surprise after that one. His face twisted into a surprised gawk.
Murmured comments drifted through the assembled men. Nerissa paused a moment, then continued, not bothering to
wait for them to cease their whispering.
"You may refer to me as Nerissa, I don't have use for ma'am or sir. My requests of you are very simple;
when I say for you to do something, I need you to do it and do it quickly. I'm here on an important mission, and we
don't have much time. I fear I've waited too long already, so speed is critical with everything we do. As such, I've
arranged to borrow a little toy for our use from your Colonel. I'm going to need thirteen of you to function as gunners,
and two of you to join me on the bridge to run the craft. Mr. Anson will be accompanying me as a liaison to all of you.
Are there any volunteers for the bridge positions?"
Kyle blinked. She was talking about the Picket Cruiser that was assigned to the base. That thing had
enough firepower to stop a minor armed rebellion...he wasn't ever able to figure out why it had been left in the care of
the militia. All they knew was that it was a lot of work to keep it properly maintained and clean. Why would they be
taking it on the patrol?
Alex looked around, noted that no one else was even thinking of taking one for the team, and then stepped
forward with a grin. "I'll follow you anywhere, miss. Name's Alex Saunders, Operations Corporal. I'm your man."
"Have you ever flown one of these ships, Corporal?" Nerissa's arms floated into a crossed position behind
her back.
"No miss, but with your close instruction, I'm sure I'll do fine."
Nerissa smiled back, looking amused. "The only people that call me 'miss' are old men that wish they were
young enough to date women like myself, or young men not smart enough to realize that they don't have a chance in
the first place."
"I'd be number two, miss," he replied, with a wink. To Kyle's great surprise, she seemed to think it was funny.
"Ma'am is bad, but miss is worse, Mister Saunders. You'd do well to remember that. Alright, you're in. Are
there any others?"
No one spoke. Luckily, none of them had to.
"I'm in." A female voice proclaimed.
Kyle turned to his left, spotting the speaker as she walked toward the assembled group. She must have
been new to the militia, he didn't know her face. Most people in the barracks got acquainted soon after they joined.
The girl looked to be about his age, dark hair tied back tight in a braid. Her uniform was impeccable, and it fit her quite
well. *I bet Alex is paying extra special attention to this one...* She stopped at the front of the line, a few feet from
where Alex was 'analyzing' her behind her back. Nerissa looked the newcomer over nonchalantly.
"Who are you?"
"Cassy Laurens, Communications Corporal," she responded. "I'm reporting for duty, and I'd like to
volunteer."
Even though he was the unit leader, Kyle didn't recall anything in the weekly memorandums about his squad
getting a new friend.
"Orders?" Nerissa's voice was crisp. Cassy produced her organizer and handed it to Nerissa, who read the
screen quickly, then handed it back.
"I'd like to help out." Cassy repeated.
"I heard you the first time, Miss Laurens," Nerissa reprimanded. "Any particular reason you want to
volunteer?"
"I was under the impression that this is a military unit, ma'am. Volunteering is supposed to be mandatory."
"Oh, really?" Nerissa smiled slightly, and began to walk in a semi-circle around Cassy. "That's an interesting
concept. Am I supposed to assume that you don't really want to volunteer for this?"
Cassy maintained a neutral look, but something in her was definitely upset that she was being questioned
like this. "I'm better qualified for the job than anyone else here." Nerissa stopped directly behind her.
"Rather presumptuous, don't you think?"
"It's hard to lose when you're aware of your opponent's hand."
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to concede, for just that reason," the older woman shot back.
"Why not raise the stakes? You don't have anything to lose unless you're bluffing," Cassy replied.
Nerissa considered that for a moment, and then smiled. "Alright Miss Laurens, we'll see how you do. Mister
Saunders, you're with me. The rest of you, assign yourselves weapons positions."
With a hustle of activity, the lines broke and everyone gathered their gear. Kyle looked around for Alex, but
his friend wasn't visible amid the commotion. He decided to take in stride next to Nerissa. There were enough
questions he wanted to ask to fill a book.
"How do you know so much about a UEF Picket Cruiser? Last time I checked, UEF Security doesn't require
their officers to memorize the fleet technical manuals."
"I like to read," she responded, striding forward.
"You know the crew compliment and weapons positions of a Picket Cruiser off the top of your head? What
kind of person memorizes that sort of stuff?"
"You?" Nerissa smirked. Kyle blushed, but Alex jumped into step on Nerissa's right, saving him from further
embarrassment.
"You know, I lost my Compin Number yesterday…can I have yours?"
"Try punching in zero-seven and see what happens," Nerissa said back.
"I guess that's supposed to represent my ranking out of a hundred. Don't I get bonus marks for artistic
expression?"
"If you come up with a pickup line worse than that one, I'll respect you." Both of them chuckled.
"I'm on it, beautiful," Alex said, blowing her a kiss and then rushing on board.
Nerissa turned to Kyle. "Friend of yours?"
"Ah…you could say that." He decided to attempt to impress her. "You might want to tell him that you're
already taken."
"I don't seem to remember ever telling you I'm engaged. What gave you that idea?"
"You're wearing a ring on your left hand."
She paused at the foot of the cruiser's loading ramp, thinking for a moment.
"...What of it?"
"Well, I don't mean to pry. I just managed to spot it the other night," Kyle added.
Nerissa glanced at it, and smiled a bit. "It's a symbol of a promise."
"So, am I to take that as a no?"
She shrugged apathetically. With a sigh, Kyle started walking. "I honestly give up …"
He got halfway up the ramp before Nerissa stopped him. "Ex obscurita sumus luxate."
Kyle's head didn't turn.
"It means 'From the darkness, light.' So as it is with life, so as it is with answers. You'll get your truths soon
enough."
There were a few seconds of silence.
"I'll see you on the bridge," Kyle said softly, and walked aboard.
The mechanical portal leading to the command center of the Picket Cruiser gave a hiss of compressed air,
and then snapped open into the walls with a thud. Cassy walked swiftly inside, tailed closely by Alex, then Nerissa,
and Kyle. It was a low-ceilinged room, with three consoles positioned in a triangular arrangement in the center. A
large viewport took up the front and about half of the left and right sides of the bridge, revealing the bright morning
outside. Cassy and Alex took the Port and Starboard pilot stations without bothering to decide which would get which.
Nerissa stood nearby.
Kyle sat down in the center chair with a satisfying thud and put his headset on. He figured that Nerissa
wouldn't want to directly command the cruiser, so he thought that she intended him to work the coordination console.
"All stations report."
Alex sat next to Cassy in his seat and got his headset on. The bridge lights flickered on as he did so, it
looked as if the guys down in Engineering were powering up the core. He pressed a button toward the top of his
console, and the screens leapt to life. "Port Piloting is go."
Cassy had beaten him to the punch by only a second or two. She fitted the small headset into her ear and
started her preflight checks. "Starboard Piloting is go."
"Give me a check on all weapons positions," Kyle ordered, affixing his own headset. "Engineering, main
engines need to be online in one minute."
"Bridge, Engineering; All equipment functioning normally. Preparing initialization."
"Pulse Cannons one through four, give me a go or no go," Alex said, flipping switches.
"Pulse Cannons five through eight, report," Cassy said right back.
"Initiate pulse drives," Kyle ordered. "All hands, prepare for departure."
Cassy flipped a switch on her panel. The sleek cruiser gave a jump, and floated into the air as if it were
made of paper. The gravity inside seemed to lessen a bit.
"Pulse drives activated and functioning within normal parameters. Power relay systems operating at 94%
efficiency."
"All weapon systems report ready, Kyle. Tactical systems are on standby," Alex relayed.
"Right, let's take her out. Engage main engines. Let's see how fast we can get this thing to go."
Outside, the cruiser rose into the air as the pulse drives hummed, rising over the walls of Nyason and then
gently falling to the earth once more. Suddenly, the engines gave a whine of power, and the induction coils fired with a
tremendous roar. The cruiser sped away until it was but a small twinkle in the distance.
Everything seemed to be fine as Kyle checked his indicators. Alex gave a glance over to Cassy, who was
hard at work making sure her console was operating efficiently. He gave a wry grin.
"You're pretty good with your hands."
"Shut up. Commander, my screens show a Y-axis deficiency of five degrees in the port rudder calibration."
Alex gave an obviously rehearsed look of rejection and leaned back in his seat. Kyle tapped a few keys on
his navigation readout.
"Hm, wonder why it's doing that…move left rudder plus five degrees, and recalibrate," Kyle said, sending his
calculations over to Cassy's console. Nerissa snuck up next to Kyle when he wasn't looking.
"Done this before?" He turned his head a little at the sound of her voice, but then went back to what he was
doing.
"Once. We all have to go through training for this thing, even though we never use it."
"You know, it might be none of my business, but you forgot to disengage the fuel constrictors when you
started the engines," Nerissa chided.
"We haven't had a working set of fuel constrictors since the original ones broke down two years ago. We
make do with repairs," Kyle explained. He paused, and then threw her a mildly annoyed look. "If you're from UEF
Security, why don't you get us a new pair?"
"I'll see what I can do," she responded, with a chuckle.
Alex finished all the system startups and gripped the control matrix. "We're ready to go, Ma'am. Where to?"
"Set heading zero-one-five degrees. We're going to head north-northeast until we get to our destination."
"And what exactly is our destination?" Alex keyed in the coordinates as he spoke.
"I'll be perfectly willing to tell you that when you outrank me, Corporal."
"I love a woman who won't let me boss them around, you know." Alex chimed in.
"Hey, stop messing around and get it in gear, smart guy," Cassy piped up. "Two-thirds throttle."
"Right, two-thirds," Alex responded, pushing the matrix forward, and giving it a jerk to the left. The cruiser
blasted over the grasslands of Titania, which slowly began to turn into sparse patches of desert. Kyle felt a lurch as
the engines shifted into overdrive. Nerissa made sure that everything was going well, then sat in one of the vacant
seats and opened her purse.
"So, what does a high-ranking military officer carry in her purse? Poison lipstick? Proximity-detonation nail
polish?"
"What do you think I carry in it, Kyle?"
"Do I look like I carry a purse? It's not like I know what you women keep in there. I do just fine without one."
"So I take it that means you don't want to guess?"
"Do you ever give a straight answer?" Kyle sounded a bit frustrated, which was predictable.
"What do you think?" Nerissa smiled coquettishly. Alex chuckled quietly to himself, but Kyle heard him
anyway, and pointed an accusing finger.
"You be quiet, smart guy."
"I can't help it, you're just too funny. You're not supposed to ask a woman what's in her purse," Alex
explained.
"And why is that, O lord of all answers?"
"Because some things were never meant to be revealed to the simple male folk." Nerissa laughed after
hearing that. Kyle turned red in frustration.
"You can call us whatever you like, but at least we don't have to carry purses. I couldn't stand walking
around with all that stuff."
"Well, we're here for a reason, and that's to carry things for the female gender. Can I get that for you,
Ma'am?" Alex shot a glance over to the teal-haired woman, who waved a hand in response.
"Oh, give it a rest already," Cassy chided in. "You shouldn't act like that unless you know the person."
Alex quickly turned to Cassy, and flashed his patented grin. "I'm sorry, angel, we haven't met…I'm Ale-"
Cassy promptly slapped him, and he recoiled like an injured animal. Kyle nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
"What the hell did you do that for?!"
"You're not my type," Cassy stated.
"You didn't have to SLAP me!"
"I beg to differ. I think you had rather indecent intentions," she chided.
"Oh, you have to give him a little leeway, he was just trying to introduce himself," Nerissa cut in.
"The last time I checked, the only men who actually introduce themselves with a pickup line make their home
in bars."
Alex gave a small 'hmph' of protest, and all was silent until Kyle started laughing again.
"What the hell is so funny?"
"You went down in flames, big man," Kyle said, through a huge grin.
"Oh, get back to work," Alex demanded, and resumed his duties silently. Nerissa swiveled in her chair to
face Kyle.
"Your friend is quite the Casanova."
"Tell me about it," Kyle responded, flicking switches.
"Hey Kyle," came a voice over the intercom. "this is Stevenson down in gunnery four. Where are we going?"
"That's need to know information, and you don't need to know, Stevenson," Kyle said back, quite pleased
with himself. "Not that I know either. It's a surprise."
"Wow, that was helpful. See if I ever ask you anything again," he said back, and closed the channel. Kyle
turned to look for Nerissa, but she was out of her seat and staring out the main viewport.
"Exactly where ARE we going? We're not just out here for fun, are we?" Nerissa didn't turn around.
"How far have we traveled?"
Cassy caught the request, and tapped her console. "About seventeen kilometers."
"That should be enough. Set us down here."
"Yes ma'am," Kyle responded, a bit disconcerted. Nerissa's voice was full of intent, and it spooked him a bit.
"Set her down, Alex."
"All stop, aye," Alex responded, powering down the engines and working a few other tasks at the same time.
"Landing struts in position…"
A deep thud from below their feet signaled that the ship had touched down. Kyle checked the holomap on
his console. They were pretty far away from the settlement now…but the odd thing was that they were in the middle of
nowhere. He couldn't imagine what Nerissa intended to accomplish by bringing them out here.
"Alright, I'm leaving the ship on business. Your orders are to proceed onward on your normal patrol route.
Since you have the cruiser, your route today will include Sirtar Canyon."
Alex blinked. "Where the heck is that?"
"Out in the center of the wastelands, I think," Kyle answered. "Why Sirtar Canyon?"
"Because I want you to check it out, that's why."
"Blah blah blah, do this, do that…" Alex mumbled softly to himself, punching buttons a bit harder than usual
in protest.
"You won't be able to reach me, so if you have something significant to report, come back to this spot. I'll be
waiting for you."
"Right," Kyle answered. "Good luck with whatever you're going to do out there."
"Thanks," Nerissa said back, walking toward the doors.
Nerissa left the bridge, and Kyle returned to his duties.
*An explanation of things to come*
Explanation is usually required by popular society for almost everything you do. It's necessary, you see.
Explanation is the linking of two minds in an idea…in an understanding. Sometimes, the concept of required
explanation suggests a negative connotation, but that is merely an assumption on the part of the individual. Even
when circumstances dictate that an explanation is likely to be false, an explanation is required all the same. If you
strike, you must have a good explanation. If you accuse, then you must have a good explanation. If you kill…
…If you kill…
…Is there anything that can give sufficient 'explanation' for such a thing?
…In any case, as I've said, you only need an explanation for an act of negative proportions. You do not
require an explanation to smile, even though you will often be asked why you are smiling. There is no required
response. You can respond with 'I am smiling because I feel like smiling' and that is good enough for any person.
After all, a smile is non-threatening. It requires no explanation.
I'm quite sure this tale is non-threatening.
But this will require some explanation.
As to whether this is a negative act, I cannot tell you. Perhaps it is. I'm not sure.
I cannot tell you who I am. But I see everything. Even you at this very moment. I bore witness to the birth of
your world. I watched as your civilization began. I observed and kept my silent vigil as violent conflict was brought to
bear upon the beauty of your own culture. But out of those terrible experiments into the unknown, steps toward peace
always followed.
What you do not know is that there is a cause behind every one of these horrible occurrences. A common
thread that always brings two groups to terrible catastrophe, and that leads to the downfall of gods. Some would argue
that violence is in your nature. They would simply satisfy themselves with believing that they cannot change what they
do not understand. This is because that they do not realize…that they do not want to realize…that your 'violent nature'
is a carefully prefabricated lie. It is within all of you, this figurehead. It is a coveted dream of the powers of evil. It has
existed since the beginning of time, just as I have.
I am the check to that force. I am the opposite. I am all that opposes it.
The tale that I am about to tell you happens in the far future. It contains elements that you may find have no
bearing on your life. You'll tell me that you don't have anything to do with this 'future war' nonsense. But I have
chosen you to hear this story. I have chosen you to believe.
Somewhere within the many pages of this vast chronicle, you will find myself. I was a participant in this tale.
I was there. Perhaps you will discover who I am, and why I am telling you this story. But it will take concentration on
your part. It is not required of you at all…but perhaps you will understand if you know my reasons, and my motives.
The people in this story are real. They lived…and fought…and some died for their efforts. They were the
hopes and dreams of the entire world, for only they were in the right places, at the right times, to make a difference.
They are the best-kept secret in the entire world, for if you were to know of their existence or of their roots, you would
be able to change the future, and this story would cease to exist. I cannot allow this to happen…I cannot allow the
future to change. Trust me…take a leap of faith. Anything that you must do to suspend your disbelief and set free
your spirit, for these events are very real…and they cannot be stopped.
I leave any further interpretations of this web of truths to you. I will refer to myself as one of many…as one of
you, for it is easier for you to understand if I speak with your own voice. From this point on, I am simply a whisper in
the darkness.
And so, let us proceed. We will begin with a mystery.
Prologue
*Six months prior to the storyline*
Unfortunately, among the twists and turns of fate that we call life, there are places where we must stop and
wonder if life is really what we make it out to be. Life, even as a shimmering tapestry of perfection, is an intricate
pattern of deception and cunning. It does a wonderful job of hiding small and bothersome nicks and cuts…it shields
the small and minute things from our passing gaze...but when we examine the tapestry further, we see that it does not
exist at all. The tapestry becomes unraveled the moment we lay eyes on it. Among the shining brightness of the
people of this world, there are darker spots, eclipsed by the brilliance of the status quo. The brilliant reds and indigos
and violets hide the dullness of brown and black beneath…as if they somehow wish to break away from that which is a
part of themselves…
…I apologize. In my travels throughout the cosmos, my language has become slightly…colorful. Allow me
to start again…
Some of our brothers and sisters are born with disadvantages. Some are gifted with them during their
lifetime…some have them forced upon themselves…but it is always the same result. Bodily harm, illness,
disease…some cannot even make sense of the world, as their mind betrays them at every step. And yes, I said gifted.
You see, out of every crisis, there comes a new understanding of life. Those who are born with these crises are
undoubtedly individuals who will learn to appreciate the value of life. But setting aside the deep meaning of such a
thing, these people are often shunned by society as outcasts, and despite the many advances in modern medicine,
these people cannot always fool themselves into believing that they are as normal as everyone else. As sad as this is,
it is the truth, and the truth is always what we must face.
To cure these 'disabilities'…these, 'problems' as you call them, humankind has developed many kinds of
therapy. Broken bones can be mended by use of a splint. Stitches can be applied to severe wounds to make sure
they stay closed. Tortured minds are consoled and nurtured by the trained oration of psychiatric therapists…
Some people cannot be saved. But those that are saved stand as a reminder that 'progress' is being made.
Now, if you were to query one such professional dedicated to erasing these imperfections, you would notice
that they are quite different from one another. One might be called a doctor. One might be an optometrist. One might
be a genetic engineer. However, their purpose remains the same; To battle inanimate objects and microscopic life
forms intent on destroying the quality of life. They live to 'save' us from harm.
Now, in this case, let us suppose that you approached one of these men or women that handled serious
physical injury cases. Let us further assume that you ask them what treatment would be required to repair several third
degree burns, two compound fractures (The first of the femur, the second of the radius), a concussion, and a tearing of
both the bicuspid and tricuspid cardiac valves.
This person would most likely inform you that the patient had little chance of surviving. Even if the patient
was rushed immediately to the hospital, they would most likely die on the operating table. They might even remark that
even in hundreds of years, this patient would still most likely die despite advances in medical technology.
It's really a shame that we wouldn't be able to save them, they might tell you.
…How surprised would they be if they discovered that without any aid, someone lived through this tragedy?
Hate. It was what drove her onward. It was an insurmountable pressure beneath her, forcing her upward at
the speed of thought. It boiled and seethed beneath her, begging and pleading to be set free upon the world. It was
the only thing that penetrated the cold depths of her psyche. The only thing that existed within her world.
Hatred…and revenge.
Her skin had been burned. But she had repaired it.
Her bones were fractured. But she had mended them.
Her thoughts had been cloudy. But they had cleared.
Her heart had stopped beating. But she had breathed new life into her body.
*Just a little longer. Then I'll be free.*
A day, two days, a week, a month, a year, a decade.
Through the infinite sleep of the people of the Earth, the hatred kept her going. Storms of ice and mountains
of fire raged over her head, but the apocalypse above stirred her not.
She knew. They were still alive.
She was calm, calculating. She was overcome with the desire for a strike against those who had opposed
her. Every second…every moment…every thought…it was there.
And then, one day, she was ready.
The twilight slowly beaming down on the ocean surface was gentle, calming, serene. The stars shone down
on the glassy surface like a pattern of pinholes against a child's piece of construction paper. Small waves whispered
on the shoreline as they lapped against the sandy frontier of dry land. A small sand crab scurried along the beach,
making tiny marks in the sand with its feet…marks that would be erased only minutes later as the waves embraced
them and reclaimed them as their own. The threshold to the Pacific Ocean was in a constant state of regeneration, a
ring of genesis and apocalypse that would continue onward to a day so distant that it is expressed in billions of years.
Far overhead, in the depths of nothingness, there shone a light against the ebony waters. A light so pale, so
brilliant, that it had come to signify power and holiness among the people of this planet. That light came from Luna, the
first and only natural satellite of Earth.
Perhaps it was coincidence that on this night, the moon shone in a flawless spherical pattern against the
water…a mirror of reality upon the glassy surface.
No matter what you believe, it was no coincidence what happened next.
Out of the ocean she came. The curtain of liquid clung to her body as she rose, retreating with quiet
whispers against itself. Head…shoulders…chest…hips…knees…and then feet. She said nothing, for nothing needed
to be said. Silence had become a friend of her tongue. The remaining salt water that clung to her curves dripped over
her slim, bare form and fell to the soft sand beneath her bare feet. The inquisitive waves lapped at her ankles like the
quiet insinuations of a child to its mother. Her long, crimson hair billowed about in the soft ocean breeze. Her jeweled
red eyes flashed hateful fire at a non-existent watcher. There was no one around to witness her coming. There would
be no observers.
There would be no survivors.
*Now is the time.*
*Now, after so long, I am ready.*
Her head turned slowly, observing the shoreline. The quiet darkness stood as still as the woman herself.
The Pacific coast curved outward to a point, then folded back in on itself like some kind of cloth draped over a
framework…
*This is the right place.*
*This is the right time.*
*Everything is right…*
The slightest hint of a smile crossed her face.
*This is my place.*
*This is my time.*
*…*
The smile vanished without a sound, and the woman herself followed only a moment later.
Chapter 1
~Wanderings~
Deep within the vast confines of the Solar System, there is a planet...a planet all alone in the darkness of
infinity. Well, if you care to be technical, you could say that there are nine, but technicalities are not exactly my cup of
tea, so to speak. This planet was discovered late one night, several hundred years ago when a man in Europe looked
up into the sky. Now, for what happened next to have occurred, luck was most definitely on his side. Not only was
there not a cloud in the sky on that night, but, he had the good fortune to spot something…something he had never
seen before. At the time, this man was unaware of the magnitude of his discovery, but we now know that the gas giant
Uranus is a massive ball of Methane and Carbon Dioxide that makes up one of the nine planets orbiting the sun.
Uranus itself is comprised mainly of Nobel Gases. Knocked on its side, the equator circles the planet in an
upright fashion, the poles pointing to the left and right like some kind of cosmic joke. Several rings encircle the planet
above the equator, captured forever by the forces of gravity. The upper layer of the atmosphere is hazy and
concealing, hiding the immense rage and turmoil beneath. Indeed, under the façade of peaceful aqua, there is a
boiling system of storms and cloud layers. In this place, the strongest metals are ripped to shreds and the likes of
hurricanes and typhoons are dwarfed by storms that not even Dante could have imagined in his writings of the Inferno.
Orbiting this sphere of aquamarine methane are more than ten moons, silent companions of the raging giant
above. Most of these moons are merely collections of various minerals and ore deposits. However, three of these
moons have been touched by the greatest imitator of the forces of natural creation that has ever been known; Man.
With his wisdom and power, the three among many were transformed into habitable worlds, and teemed with life. Two
of these moons will not be discussed here. However, the third of the three, Titania, is different. It is here, on Titania,
that my telling of these events begins.
Titania is the largest moon of Uranus. Indeed, in order to be large enough to provide some resemblance of
Earth's gravity, mankind wasn't presented with too many choices. Having been chosen, however, Titania was now an
important location on the maps of Starships. Two cities adorned the surface of the recently terraformed world. The
first, the capital city, was a fantastic place of learning, art, music, and peace. White spires and crystalline structures
were predominant. High technology reigned. Graceful curves and shining buildings were characteristic of this place.
It was a place of magic, a place of power…and above all, a triumph for the sciences of mankind. Over five million
people lived within the ebbs and flows of masonry, which was named Selestria.
The other city of the two was smaller, but only on the surface. Alexandria, named after the ancient library
from distant times forgotten, was an underground city. Hollowed out by unknown means, the main cavern of
Alexandria was so massive that it supported its own weather system and ecology. A fantastic sight to behold was a
thundercloud pouring water from the heavens, when the heavens that were spoken of were beneath your feet.
However, because of reasons unknown, Alexandria had been silent for several years before the beginning of these
events. Only after this story was compiled was the reason for Alexandria's silence discovered.
There was one more settlement on Titania, but it was not mentioned because it was not a citadel of learning,
or a fantastic underground cavern, or any such place. Nyason, a small community on the other side of the moon from
Selestria, was actually a military garrison of sorts, enclosed within the towering walls of early paranoia and defense.
Nyason was actually the first settlement on Titania, and accordingly, it was built to withstand anything short of a ground
assault. The town had close to three-hundred men, women, and children within its walls, seventy of which were
required to form a sort of colonial militia. This may seem like a ludicrously inadequate policy, however, when it comes
to governmental procedures, it should be noted that the number seventy doesn't look too large on paper.
I should add that throughout history, it has always been easy to overlook fatal shortcomings when they are
simply words on a page.
Inside the garrison itself, there is a watchtower. It was built when the garrison was established, so many
years ago in days of distant memory. Standing thirty meters high, it served as one of the only defenses to the garrison.
It had once shone with the luster of better days, but soon it began to show signs of age and use. It stood steadfast,
performing the duty it was constructed for day after day, year after year. Men from the Titanian Militia took shifts
standing on top of the tower, gazing over the horizon…watching for an enemy that would never come.
Well, at least, for an enemy that did not come until now.
Kyle was on duty tonight. It had already been several hours since he had ascended the watchtower and
began his vigil…though the time seemed to stretch into eons when he gave half a thought to the task he was supposed
to be performing. His gaze trailed over the endless depths of nothingness in the sky, searching for the slightest flicker
of movement. Of course, there was none, and even if there were, it would have been a miracle for him to have seen it.
His eyes would have to be in the exact location of a flicker of light that would only appear for a moment as it sped by.
However, there were exceptions to the rule…times when something would be seen amidst the twinkle of the heavens,
and times when that something wouldn't vanish in the space between moments. The warning bell would be rung in
that particular 2-1-2 pattern…the militia members who were there and awake would rush out of the barracks with their
oculars and a twinkle in their eye. You see, the members of the militia all shared the same fascination with the
unknown, the same spark that called them to the stars. It wasn't necessarily something of note, or of interest for that
matter...it was more of a character quirk, a deeps sense of duty. It was a matter of character, and for the men who
made their home inside the base, being a man of character meant you aspired for the stars above.
The sightings that the militia members made weren't anything of exceptional note…a UEF Transport on its
way to Neptune, or a UEF Frigate re-supplying the colonies, or a UEF Mining Vessel…there was nothing that called for
serious action. Besides, as massive as the ships were up close, from this distance, they were merely small flecks and
flashes. You could get the same thrill from a Firefly, as long as you didn't mind the difference in distance. It almost
becomes a thing of humor when you consider that the militia members took far more notice of passing ships then they
did of the night sky itself. Such a thing of infinite mass and depth was eventually just taken for granted. It was seen as
a harmless void, a source of amusement rather than one of danger. The stars were friends, the planets allies, the
darkness a source of light. The endless twinkling of the distant celestial bodies was like a hypnotic dance, drawing
Kyle into the mystery and wonder that waited in the far reaches of his galaxy. The color red, soft and subdued, kept
him anchored to the ground beneath his feet…the source of which shone atop the tower and gave a quiet click every
time it snapped on. Was it some kind of poetic metaphor that he couldn't let his thoughts be truly free because of a
blinking light bulb? Maybe so…maybe not. The only sound to be heard was the occasional slow gust of wind. He
would not get his answer tonight. It was still, quiet, and lonely. Just the way Kyle liked it.
Why, then, couldn't he just tune out from all of this? Maybe it was because of that odd thing he felt called
'duty.'
As things stood, his 'duty', as he thought of it, was one of no purpose. Earth or its neighboring planets had
not been threatened for years and years, ever since the ancient wars of old. Kyle was, of course, not one of the
surviving 'spanners'…those who had been placed into suspended animation by the queen, so he had no recollection of
any of the conflicts that defined his world. Being only 18 years of age, Kyle was just now developing a fascination with
the past and the powers that were. History wasn't always his favorite topic in school, but it was the one that he most
enjoyed reading about on his spare time. Ancient wars, power struggles, sacrifices in the name of friendship…it almost
made him feel as if he had some kind of commitment to be a better person. Joining the militia made him feel as if he'd
been fulfilling part of that commitment…and it eased his guilty conscience, which demanded that he do something
great and honorable with his life. Being idle was something that he wanted...rest was something he was never too
caught up on. To give up the Militia and live a life of normalcy wasn't an option.
Was this 'need', this 'feeling' that he had to make something of himself, the same thing as the 'duty' that he
half-despised, he wondered?
Kyle had been born in the settlement of Nyason, on Titania. Part of only the second generation to live on the
rocky planetoid, all the other inhabitants of his moon had come through the ancient warp gate long ago. The Queen
herself had only given Titania an atmosphere recently. Well, relatively recently, if you spoke in terms of the Queen's
lifetime. His parents told him that it had been a great honor to be chosen as settlers for this planet…the selection
process was so fine-toothed that several prominent governmental and civilian figures were denied the right to be some
of the first colonists. He gave himself a smirk as he thought about all of their money and power going to waste on a
process that they could not sway for the life of them. It was empowering to know that there was something about his
family, and therefore himself, that made him inherently special in some way.
But as inherently special as he was, or as vitally important he might be, or as egotistically blown-out-of
proportion his thoughts were, he couldn't escape from where he was right now.
Kyle had volunteered to be one of about seventy people in the Titanian Militia to escape...to trade the rigors
of one existence for the callings of another. He wanted the most out of his life…he wanted to have Death smile at him
and he wanted to smile back. It was that sort of predestination…that assurance of fates, that Kyle wanted. That sort of
life couldn't be found on his own tiny moon. Far away…in the distant cold of space, there was a planet where the stuff
that miracles are made of was commonplace. It was a planet of perfection, of wonder, of power…the mythical Avalon,
Shangri-La, and Eden, all in one.
The Blue Planet, third of the nine…Earth.
Kyle immediately went over what he knew of the past in his mind. Earth hadn't always been that way. It was
once a place of violent war, of secret heroics hidden behind secret identities. [Once upon a time, the Earth was
contained within the mighty grip of Chaos]… Kyle recited inside his own head. [But then, light came unto the world,
and the Hand of Chaos was driven from the Earth by the Queen of Silver Radiance…]
Kyle stopped himself. He had known the story of the beginning of the golden age since he was a child.
Indeed, it was the first thing taught to all children after they had gained the means to understand it. Something
wouldn't let him stay comfortable, though…somehow, he thought that with peace having lasted more than one
thousand fifty years, humankind was getting a bit 'rusty', perhaps. That wasn't a very good word, he knew, but it was
hard to explain… Kyle didn't like the notion that the leaders of the government were snug in their shells of sanctuary,
but he figured that the Queen would always be on her guard. The Queen of Silver Radiance…she couldn't possibly let
anything happen.
*Why do I feel a sense of urgency in the air, then...? What does it mean...?*
Secretly, Kyle hoped that there would be some kind of horrible threat to mankind. Some kind of disturbance
out in that twinkling abyss, some kind of trouble that decided that the Solar System was a ripe target for an
attack…anything at all. Of course, Kyle caught himself mid-thought. He didn't want the consequences of a war. The
UEF was strong, but small…the Titanian Militia itself could never hold off an attack for very long, and there was only
the one warp gate on the planet. Yet, he wanted a war…a one-sided war, for only one reason; to watch the attackers
learn the lesson of never assaulting Earth and its outlying protectorates.
[Assisted by her warriors of air and darkness, the Queen of Silver Radiance banished the source of Chaos to
never return…and the world was at peace…]
All young girls who learned of the ancient wars of old wanted to be like the 'Warriors of Air and Darkness' the
story spoke of…to be like the guardians. Which one they wished to be always varied, but it was always the same
perspective.
Kyle searched his memory for what he had memorized so long ago…
[...Their faces were as the shine of all the planets and stars in the heavens, their bearing and poise was that
of the most ancient of all the creatures in the universe, their hearts as noble as heroes of legend, and their power the
most destructive that the forces of Man and Nature had ever seen…]
Ten warriors, wielding awesome powers, and protectors of all mankind. To stand against them was folly, for
they were the incarnation of power. All those who stood in their way were utterly and totally defeated. The immortal
guardians, blessed with eternal life by the power of the Queen of Silver Radiance, and survivors of a culture long
absent from the world. They were, (with a few exceptions being people who had managed to live to extremely old age)
the only survivors of the pre-catastrophe Earth. They were, with a few more exceptions, the only survivors of the
Nemesis Invasion. And they were the only ones that called the Queen by her name. His greatest dream was to meet
one of them…just one. To see any of the guardians was the greatest honor one could have. To meet them was
something you passed down in your family for ages. To know one as a friend-
Well, Kyle had never heard of that actually happening. He figured that normal people like himself weren't
really the kind of person they would exchange words with… He wondered if they even lead any semblance of a normal
life, or if they did the things that Kyle did every day…
Stupid, Kyle thought. Of course not.
He sometimes wondered if they were even human. Some stories said that the Queen wasn't even from
Earth. It sounded silly, of course...how could that be true? The pictures that existed of her looked human enough…
And then of course, there was his homeworld, Titania, the place of ordinary humans such as himself. They
were free to live out their lives here, under the watchful eyes of the Earth. Kyle's mother had assured him that they
would never have to experience the terrors of war, because they had guardian angels on their shoulders. Four of ten
were supposedly watching them. *One of our protectors rivals the Queen herself with her power, his mother had told
him. We will always be safe here.*
Kyle remembered those words always. Those words were the death knell of his ambitions of excitement and
change. His mother was right…well, his mother was half right. It was true that Titania and the entire Uranian system
was under the protection of the four most powerful guardians…but he had noticed that the most recent information
about the Outer Four was several years old. It bothered him…it nagged at the back of his mind like an itch that
wouldn't go away. Why wasn't there any information from the past five years or so? If they were under watchful eyes,
were those eyes keeping hidden…?
Whether the guardians were watching or not…whether or not he wanted to be safe…whether or not he was
doing his 'duty' as a person was what went through Kyle's mind as he watched the sky, and waited…
And wait he did…for something…anything…to happen.
"Kyle," came a voice. His response was delayed…his mind still immersed in thoughts of wars and power.
"Oh, hey Alex," Kyle said back. He turned his body halfway toward the lift that had been standing behind him
as he watched the heavens. "What's the problem?"
"No problem." He walked out of the lift and stepped out onto the small observation platform, holding two
mugs. The floor they stood on was not solid, it was more of a grating. Through the holes, you could see all the way to
the ground, far below...to some, the holes were a bit too large for their taste. It was as if you'd seep through the
grating, like water, and fall to a swift demise. Not surprisingly, all the members of the militia knew who in their number
was afraid of heights.
"I came to relieve you. Have some hot chocolate," Alex continued, and shoved a mug at his friend. Kyle
grabbed the cup of warm liquid eagerly. Being so far from the sun, Titania was neither very bright nor very warm in the
evenings. During the day, for some reason, things did get really hot around the garrison. It shouldn't have been so hot
because of the distance, but they wrote it off as an effect of the gravity or something. At night, however, the vapor in
the air formed light dustings of frost on the grass. It came as no surprise to anyone when hot chocolate became a
favorite of the Titanian Militia.
"Gazing at the stars again?" Alex leaned back against the railing of the watchtower.
"Yeah…hey Alex, you ever give half a thought to the past?"
He took a large sip from his mug and swallowed. "Well, my grades might say otherwise, but yeah, every
once in a while. Why bring this up now?"
Kyle clasped his mug between both hands, and gave a glance up to the sky. "Don't you wish you could have
been there, to see the guardians fight for the freedom of the Solar System?"
Alex chuckled a bit. "Here you go again with your little speech."
"Come on, Alex, cut me some slack here. Surely at some point you've wanted to meet the Queen, or
something. Don't you find it the least bit interesting?"
"Well what if I did," Alex proposed, playing along. "What if, for some reason, I was totally obsessed with the
guardians and the past, and I'd give my last dime just to see the back of the Queen's head? You know what I'd do?"
"I don't know, what?"
"I'd name myself Kyle Anson and label myself an obsessive idiot. Then I'd dunk my head in some cold water
and get back down to the Barracks before the guys start getting ideas." Alex flashed his signature grin. "I'd hide any
suspicious magazines I own too, or else my best friend Alex might find them." Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Your brand of humor has me in stitches."
"Well thank you, I kill me too."
"Honestly...if you actually had the chance to meet the Queen, or any of the guardians, for that matter…what
would you do," he probed.
Alex thought for a moment. "Hmm...I'd probably shake her hand, and then introduce myself. I'd tell her that
she was dazzling beautiful, that she had curves to die for, and I'd add that I'm single. I'd also have some sort of
expensive gift ready. Not to mention the kneeling, the professing of the undying love, the candlelight dinners..." Alex
smirked as he finished. Kyle had let his head fall on the metal railing with a soft clank.
"Come on, be serious! I mean, wouldn't it be the greatest thing if we even got to see one in person?"
He sipped his cocoa in a moment of thought. "…Yeah, I guess so." His words flowed a bit rougher than his
drink. "But you've got to be realistic. They don't just make publicity runs. You don't see advertisements with their
stamp of approval or anything."
Kyle leaned against the railing once more, and gazed upward. "True...but maybe…someday, maybe one will
come here…"
"Hoping for a particular one, are we?"
"Do you ever think about anything besides women? Or do you actually have the rest of your brain in that big
head of yours?"
"Of course I think about other things." Alex had a smile on his face that hinted he was up to something.
"Oh yeah? Could have fooled me. Like what?"
Alex set his cocoa down, and quickly wrapped his arms around Kyle. "You know that I just can't resist you
when you're frustrated, honey…"
Kyle elbowed Alex in the stomach, who figured that he probably deserved it. "Goddamn you, I shouldn't
have bothered asking..."
Alex snickered to himself. "Oh, hit me harder, baby..."
"I'm warning you, smart guy. Blackmail makes a wonderful income source."
"Okay, okay, settle down. I can resist my attraction to your manly pecs for the moment." He laughed under
his breath before Kyle made a motion that suggested he might throw his hot cocoa on Alex's head. The two of them
settled down quickly enough, and their conversation continued.
"Seriously, though, if a guardian showed up here for some reason, which one would you be hoping for," Kyle
asked. Alex sipped his cocoa, then leaned over the railing in thought.
"That's a tough one…"
"I'm sorry that I'm making you pick a specific one, mister suave and cool." Alex smiled in appreciation.
"Apology accepted. Well, if I had to pick just one…I guess I would like to see the Queen. To see a living
legend like her, well, the bragging rights alone would be bliss. Besides, you know that I'd have her digits within five
minutes anyway."
"News update: The Queen left her husband today to pursue a romantic fling with an idiotic sap from a
backwater planet..." Kyle drummed on the metal railing to add effect.
"Exactly." Alex winked. "How about you? Does one of the guardians have a secret shrine under your bed?"
Kyle sipped his cocoa and chuckled. "Not exactly...I don't think I have a preference."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"They're all so famous…I'm not sure I'd have the guts to talk to one of them."
"That's because you're just not the type who knows that he's large and in charge, my friend," Alex said. He
turned to face an imaginary person in front of him. "Hi, I'm Alex, and you have got to be tired from running through my
head all day long..."
Kyle laughed to himself. He'd known Alex in preschool…they went way back. Alex was only a year older
than he was, and he had always been the ladies man…though, whether the ladies thought so was up to debate. He
had always been convinced of his own womanizing capabilities; His philosophy was that he was God's gift to women,
and so he had better make use of himself. They'd basically been brothers to each other since as long as they could
remember.
He noticed that Alex was going for the last drops in his cup. "Done with your cocoa?"
"Yeah. Mind taking it back down for me?"
"Sure thing. I've got nothing better to do." Kyle grabbed both the mugs and headed for the lift. "I'll see you tomorrow
at formation."
"Right," Alex said. "Sweet dreams, honey."
"Cut that out," Kyle snapped, and shut the lift doors without another word. Watching as the pod descended
back down to the surface, Alex turned back to his watch, and chuckled.
"Someday, that kid will learn not to take me too seriously."
Being off duty for the night was a daily thing, but it never really lost its magic for Kyle.
He thought back to his conversation with Alex, about the guardians. *I'd add that I'm single,* he said. Was it
that simple? Were the guardians so normal?
It was a foolish notion. The guardians were guardians…they weren't supposed to lead normal lives like him.
Their definition of normal was something far different than what he saw as daily life. There were textbooks that told of
the guardian's lives before they became the embodiment of the golden age. Supposedly, the guardians were just as
normal as everyone else, once upon a time.
He stopped over a bridge…well, over the bridge. The New Tiber was the only source of water on the moon,
if you didn't count the shipments that were brought by the UEF every two months. When the moon had been
terraformed, there were problems with the formation of the Water Table, so it was still righting itself naturally. Until
then, the Queen had created the river to give the settlers some natural water and enjoyment. It passed by Selestria,
and then by Alexandria in its course, eventually flowing into the unknown wastelands of Titania where it most likely
boiled off as it roamed into the burning heat of the deserts. The New Tiber was exceptionally clear (the scientists and
ecologists in the capital did a fantastic job of keeping the water purified), and so on this night, it was as smooth as a
mirror. The water reflected his face perfectly, and his pseudo-double stared back at him deep in thought. A bluish-
green hue lit the area of the river as the huge figure of the planet Uranus loomed in the sky. All was quiet, except for
the occasional gust of wind or closing of a door. The river itself flowed rather slowly…no babbling sections of rapids or
rushing waterfalls. Not many people stayed out after midnight, save the occasional Militia member such as himself.
This kind of night was Kyle's favorite, where he could be truly alone and think his own thoughts.
Absentmindedly, he reached down to his pocket and removed his prize possession…his pocket watch. It
was inscribed with the royal symbol of the Earth. It had caught his eye when he went to Selestria for the annual Solar
Fair. The representatives of the event on Earth had actually decided to hold it on his moon five years ago. *Since you
like that watch so much, you can have it for your birthday* his mom had said. He had never told her that he picked it
because he wanted to be closer to the guardians. It made him feel like he had a place among them…like his ambitions
could somehow be put to good use someday if he kept it around.
One story that he had learned was always his favorite…the 'History of the Guardians' textbook told of a
woman that had been the Queen's best friend earlier in her life. They did everything together, even though that woman
had no special power of her own. That woman was now the minister of finance in the government.
It signaled to Kyle that it was possible for him to be friends with a guardian. Perhaps, someday, he would get
the chance to talk to one, or to shake one's hand…or maybe even to make a lasting impression… *Oh, Kyle…so nice
to see you again…* That's what they'd say. He knew they spoke in Japanese, but he spoke very little…he was
originally of American descent. The language of the guardians sounded so natural to him, even if he couldn't
understand it…
"What I wouldn't give to be someone like Osaka Naru…"
He gazed upward, looking for a sign. The stars, however, gave no answer beyond silent twinkles. They just
stared back from their eternal place in the heavens.
The wind picked up for a spell, snapping Kyle out of his trance. Thinking nothing of his problems, he
continued to walk, but then stopped. A soft tune blew through the air, lingering as an echo in his mind.
*How long has that been there?*
*…Violin music?*
He stepped off the bridge, trying to make out the origin of the soft melody. His ear led him down to the
riverbank, which threaded out of Nyason and into the forests beyond. The tune continued, almost describing a picture
in his mind. It drove him onward, drawing him as if he were summoned not of his own will. Closer and closer he came,
and the call continued, beckoning in a voice he could not resist. It continued to grow inside his mind, swelling,
pressing, forcing him into a run. It was almost a relief when he approached the source, and instinctively slowed down.
A woman sat upon a large gray stone, playing to her celestial audience, violin in hand. Her fingers moved
deftly across silvery strings, delicate horsehair singing in a language far more personal than words. A black dress of
fine silk covered her slim form, necklace and earrings of shining aquamarine glinting against the glowing planet in the
sky. Her face was a beautiful white, her eyes hypnotizing pools of teal. Long, rippling tresses of strangely natural
aquamarine-colored hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, stopping only at her waist. She seemed as if she
belonged among the grasses and flowers of the clearing.
That moment lasted an eternity for Kyle. He stared for thousands of years in the space of a single instant.
How many lifetimes did he live as he listened to her song…?
And then, in the same strange way he had first come to hear this melody, it stopped.
The woman put down her violin. Her eyes were closed, but a hint of a smile graced her features. "I can't see
you, but I know you're there."
Kyle froze, and realized that he had not done as good a job at remaining hidden as he had thought. The
woman opened her eyes, and raised her head.
"Come out, where I can see you."
Slowly, he moved out from behind the trees that masked his position. The woman turned to face him and
looked him over analytically.
"It's a little late for children to be out," she stated. "Or do you always wander aimlessly through the forest?"
"I was just wondering why a strange woman was sitting in the middle of a forest playing a violin in the middle
of the night, actually."
"Well met," she replied.
"Do you want me to leave?"
"You're going to stay no matter what I answer, so don't bother asking in the first place," the woman added.
*Sharp...* He crossed the distance between them in a few steps. She looked to be about twenty-five or so,
and certainly looked exquisite. Not surprisingly, Kyle asked to sit down.
"I liked your song…so I stayed to listen to it, but I ended up staying for longer than I planned," Kyle said.
"Sorry for disturbing you."
The woman analyzed his words. "It's not a problem. I shouldn't have been out playing tonight."
"No, no, your music was wonderful…I guess I should have just kept my distance."
"Curiosity isn't a sin," the woman amended.
"Well, you've certainly got me curious," he replied, with a slight grin. "I'm Kyle Anson."
The woman drew her hands in and crossed her arms lightly. "You can call me Nerissa."
Kyle puzzled over that for half a moment. "Nice to meet you, Nerissa."
"Likewise, Mr. Anson," she replied, reaching for her violin case.
"Just Kyle. The only people that call me Mr. Anson are my commanding officers."
"Alright, Kyle." She was paying more attention to her violin than to her conversation partner. Kyle knew a
sinking ship when he was on one.
"So…ah, are you from around here?"
"No, I'm visiting."
"Oh really? From where?"
"From Triton," she replied.
"Wow, you live in the Neptunian system?" Kyle had a look of excited curiosity on his face. "I thought they just
settled there."
"Yes, they did," she replied, putting away her bow. "I had something to do with the founding of the colony."
"Did you see the Queen?"
Nerissa stopped for a moment only, then continued with her task. "Of course not, the Queen was under
guard."
Kyle paused for a second, thinking that he was sounding like an idiot. He idly wondered if it was still possible
to save his dignity.
"So, Nerissa…what brings you to our moon?" She smiled a bit and closed her violin case.
"Personal reasons."
"What?"
"I'm meeting someone here tomorrow," she replied. "That's why I came."
"Anyone special?" Kyle probably sounded a bit more interested than he should have been.
"You could say that."
"Then, I take it you don't feel like talking about it?"
"Well, you're certainly inquisitive for a strange man in a forest. How would you react?"
"Well, you're certainly mysterious for a strange woman in a clearing," he responded, with a smile. "I suppose
we'd both be lying to each other."
She laughed softly, then glanced at the stars above. "I suppose."
Kyle looked up as well. "So…let's see…have you ever seen a guardian?"
The woman turned to him. "Hm?"
Realizing how strange the question sounded in the first place, he attempted to explain. "Well, I study their
history…sort of a hobby, really, but I've never actually seen one of them."
Nerissa analyzed the question for a moment. "No…"
Kyle blinked, as if he expected a different answer. "Oh…" She closed her eyes, and her lovely face seemed
stricken with exhaustion.
"It's a great honor to meet a guardian, after all."
"You think so?"
"Who doesn't," she replied.
Kyle wanted to answer, but he realized that anything he said would probably be a bit foolish. He held his
tongue.
"What are *you* doing here?" She turned a bit curious, but there was a drive behind her words. "You're just
as strange as I am, you know."
"I'm a member of the locally stationed militia. We're based in Nyason, over there," He said, turning and
pointing in the direction of the settlement.
"Well, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this little meeting of ours. I'm really not supposed to be
here."
"Sure, if that's what you want..."
Nerissa rested both her hands on the rock beneath her, and nodded slightly. "Thank you." Kyle stood up.
"Do you need a place to stay? You don't exactly look like you've got something planned…no offense."
"I don't think I'll need one," she said. "I enjoy sleeping outdoors."
"It gets really cold here later on at night…you should come to the settlement and find someplace warm."
"Exactly what are you asking?" She sounded a bit defensive. Kyle blushed a bit.
"Well, if it means saving you from having to freeze to death? I suppose I'm asking you if you'd like to spend
the night."
She eyed Kyle suspiciously. "I thought you said you were with the military?"
"Technically, yes…but if you're, ah, in some kind of trouble with the armed forces or something, it won't
matter…" Upon further thought, Kyle realized that sounded quite ridiculous.
"Nothing of the sort. I just don't like people all that much," she replied. Her voice sounded as if it was trying
to replace something with forced anger.
"You can ask the guards at the garrison gate…they have an extra room with a lock on the door," he offered.
Nerissa closed her eyes in thought.
"I'm afraid that it's too far out of my way…but thank you, for your hospitality. I haven't spoken to a kind
person in so long…"
Her voice trailed off…and so did she. Kyle snapped out of his listening trance to stop her from leaving.
"Wait! You didn't tell me where you were going to stay instead!"
"Well, that's none of your business. Good night."
Her form silently melted into the surrounding forest. Within ten seconds, Kyle could no longer see the
woman or hear any sign of her.
*How strange...*
Deciding that pondering this encounter would make a great way to pass the morning drills, Kyle put it out of
his mind and started for home.*
"Hey Kyle, wake up, the Guardians are here..."
Click, boom. Bulls-eye. Mister Anson was up in a second. "Where? Which one?"
Alex chuckled from his bunk, adjacent to Kyle's. "Good morning merry sunshine. And how are we today?"
Kyle grabbed his pillow and threw it, hard, at Alex, who fell off his bed from the force.
"You jerk! Don't lie to me like that!"
Alex got back up on his bunk with a grin. "Who said I was lying?"
"Shut up, wise guy," Kyle said, getting out of bed. "I hate mornings when I have to deal with your smart
mouth."
The barracks of the Titanian Militia were busy this morning, with volunteer sentries hustling and bustling with
their daily tasks. Messages were delivered, weapons inventoried, and drills performed. Squads of five men were
practicing with pulse rifles at the garrison's small firing range. The huge warp gate, old, dormant, and rusted with age,
stood in the center of the base. It hadn't been used in twenty years. Men walked every which-way, busy in their
assigned tasks. Hearing the activity outside only helped a little to wake Kyle up.
"Have some coffee, sleepy." Alex offered Kyle a steaming mug, who accepted it warmly.
"Caffeine, preferred by nine out of ten soldiers over Reveille in the morning. Aaaahh…I'm going back to
bed."
"Well, I hate getting up too, but at least I actually DO get up," Alex said. "Get your uniform, we're up for
patrol duty today."
"Oh, joy."
Patrol duty was never very fun. It usually included marching several miles in the blistering wastelands of the
planet, without meals and without much stopping at all. It was easily the number-one gripe among the men.
"You sound happy," Alex said with a grin.
"Yeah, I was really looking forward to busting my ass marching all over this god-forsaken rock. Shut up."
"My, aren't we irritable this morning. Must be the caffeine kicking in." Alex kicked himself off the bed. "Hurry
up, the last one outside has to carry the Pulse Cannon."
"I am NOT lugging that huge thing all over the place." Kyle announced as he got out of bed and grabbed his
uniform.
"By the way, everyone's saying that you're in the orders of the day."
Kyle looked up. "Oh really? What's up, cleaning duty later on?"
"Nope, this is a direct order to you. From the colonel." Alex stood up, and shouldered his pack. "I bet he
wants to talk to you about something."
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, it had better not be about Daniels' rifle misfiring under his bunk," Kyle said,
obviously hinting at something. Alex waved his hands in defense.
"Hey, hey, I thought we agreed that we didn't know anything about that! Besides, it's orders, not a
communiqué. I'd be a bit more smug if you were in trouble."
Kyle sounded more interested in his reply. "Oh?"
"Maybe you get to miss patrol duty after all," Alex offered, shrugging. He grabbed his rifle and slung it over
his shoulder. "Well, if you do end up marching to hell and back with yours truly, I'll see you later."
"Sure."
Alex left in a quick jog, and Kyle tailed him only long enough to make it to the orders hub. He produced his
personal organizer, and pointed the infrared node toward the red light located on top. Almost immediately, the symbol
of the Titanian Militia appeared on the screen, followed by a text message:
[June 19, 3126 (Thursday).]
[Orders Assigned 0400.]
[High Command is silent.]
[Proceed with daily routines.]
[Stevenson, Adams, Daniels; Inventory Armory at 1200.]
[There is a temporary shortage of coffee due to replicator malfunction.]
[Attn: Anson, Kyle - Input passcode for classified instructions.]
It was just about the same as every other day, excepting the inventory assignments, the coffee thing, and of
course, the section at the bottom.
"You know, I don't seem to recall the Colonel ever giving anyone personalized orders before," Kyle said
absentmindedly, looking over the message. "Well, at worst, he'll tell me that my parents want their son back."
He keyed in his PIN number, and this appeared:
[Your presence has been requested at the highest level.]
[Your patrol duties are suspended temporarily.]
[Report to Central Command at 0815.]
Kyle blinked. "Well, that was certainly cryptic. I wonder what the Colonel wants?"
It normally took a member of the militia about a minute, total, to walk from the barracks to the large building
in the back of the compound. Of course, when you're the only guy in your unit who doesn't have to work patrol duty all
day long with a ton and a half of stuff, you're bound to get a bit of lip.
"Anson, what the hell are you doing mucking around like that? We've got half an hour before our patrol
starts!"
Stevenson had his gear spread out on the parade grounds as he shouted. The unit was already preparing
for the long hike. Kyle waved his organizer over his head like a get-out-of-jail-free card, a grin on his face.
"Sorry Stevenson, I think I'll pass on your delightful company today. How about tea later?"
"Ooh, look who's so special today," Vance chimed in, looking up from his preparations. A few other
members of the squad gave a bit of their attention to the growing conversation.
"Hey, as long as I get to sit in the Command Center while you guys let your feet fall off from running the
hundred-meter dash, I could care less about your whining." Kyle gave the group a triumphant smirk. Shaking his head
in amused disappointment, Alex looked up from his own work, leaning on his Pulse Rifle.
"So, what'd it say, as if I didn't already know," he asked. Kyle crossed the parade ground over to his friend
before giving a rather stern glance to the rest of the unit, who took the hint and went back to work. They faced each
other once more. "Well?"
"It really didn't say much," Kyle explained, handing his organizer to Alex. He read it quickly, then read it
again slowly, as if he missed something. Kyle shrugged. "Told you."
Alex handed it back. "You really shouldn't be showing classified information to your friends, y'know. And it's
0810, you've only got five minutes."
"I'm sure it's nothing really urgent." Kyle crossed his arms. "After all, there hasn't been anything really
pressing since promotion reviews."
"Well, that may be true, but I think everyone else is gonna kill you if you keep flaunting your immunity to
patrol duty." Alex jerked his thumb at the other guys to accentuate his point. Kyle turned toward the squad and spoke
a bit louder than he probably had to.
"It's not my fault if the Colonel thinks I'm special. Maybe other people should start *taking a clue from how I
act* or something."
The other militia members looked up. "And it's not our fault if we beat the hell outta you for playing court
jester, Anson," someone said. The rest of the guys let out a much-needed laugh.
Alex gave Kyle's shoulder a soft hit. "Why don't you get going? I'll stall the enemy here."
"I'm so touched that you'd give your life in my defense."
"Are you kidding? I'd take an assassination for you! Well…not in the chest…or the head…well, not my leg
either…and definitely not the back…"
"Yeah, I get the point, smart guy. Have fun."
"You too," Alex said.
The Command Center was the largest structure in the garrison, next to the colossal warp gate that stood in
the center of the compound. 'Count the Bricks' was a generic punishment sometimes inflicted on members of the
militia, which referred to making someone count the unfathomable number of polished cement stones used in the
building's construction. Inside, the building was surprisingly well-furnished for a military command post. Colonel
Danielowicz was a collector of art and sculpture, and his taste in furniture was equally exotic. As a result, their
command center ended up looking much like a luxury hotel.
Kyle strolled in, stopping to wipe his feet quickly. Any dirt on the floors would quickly be attributed to him. *I
wish he'd get rid of those expensive rugs…they make life so much harder.* Of course, the rugs were nothing
compared to the vases, paintings, and other strange collections of oil paint, canvas, marble, and twists of metal.
Wandering through the forest of modern artistic expression, he reached a pair of walnut double-doors, and knocked
twice. The sound was hard and rich, and it echoed in the large entryway. As soon as it had faded, it was replaced with
a voice.
"Come in, Anson. You're right on time."
Kyle blinked. *He sounds awful sure that it's me…then again, how many other people would be in here this
time of day?* Grasping one of the fat brass door handles, Kyle pushed inward, trying to remember his military
protocols for formal meetings…
He forgot all of that when Nerissa smiled back at him from the Colonel's desk, which threw any semblence of
composure to the wind as the door shut behind him. She was standing next to the Colonel's chair, arms comfortably
crossed behind her back, a smile on her face. The Colonel himself was going over some papers that had originated in
a folder, marked with an official seal.
"Nerissa! What are you doing here?" It didn't really register at the time that he was supposed to be standing
at attention and reporting for his orders. The Colonel didn't seem to mind. He turned to his companion with a raised
eyebrow.
"Nerissa?"
"It's my name," she replied. A red half-jacket was draped over a plain pink blouse that she wore, with a
matching loose pink knee-skirt and a pair of expensive-looking black shoes. Her hair looked the same as it had the
other night...although that was more in the fact that Kyle thought it looked just as beautiful as he remembered it. He
pointed sideways at Nerissa while speaking to his commanding officer.
"Sir, what's she doing here?" The Colonel leaned back in his chair, throwing an odd gaze at Kyle.
"She's got every right to be here, why do you ask?"
Kyle turned to Nerissa, puzzled. "What is he talking about?"
She drew her own organizer from a conservative purse she carried, and with a tap, her security access card
popped out of the side. Unlike Kyle's, hers was gold-colored.
"Miss Nerissa here is with the UEF Security Branch," Colonel Danielowicz explained. "She was sent here on
orders from the highest authority. Her military rank is somewhat equivalent to a Stratego."
Kyle managed a few blinks. Nerissa tilted her head a bit. "Something wrong, Kyle?"
"Uh, no…ah, I mean no sir, or no ma'am, or, um…"
"Anson, pull yourself together," the Colonel said, closing his eyes.
"Yes ma-uh, sir, um, Colonel…" When he figured that he couldn't mess up any further, he saluted, and
snapped to attention. Much to his surprise, neither of his superiors said anything in return, and Nerissa smiled a bit
more.
"It seems that I've decided to take you up on your invitation after all, Mister Anson."
"So I've figured." He tried his best to sound respectful.
Nerissa turned to the Colonel, and dropped a small packet she had been holding onto his desk. "I think you'll
find the data results to be very interesting. Go over it with your senior commanders this afternoon."
"Yes ma'am. Have a pleasant trip."
"Thank you."
She walked out from behind his desk, and took a curving course toward the door. Kyle shot her a puzzled
look as she passed by.
"Follow me," she added.
His first reaction to her quarters was that they were very comfortable. Ornate rugs, soft lighting, and perfect
temperature were all indicators of the atmosphere she preferred. His second reaction was amazement to the amount
of paintings that adorned the room. Wonderful pictures of all kinds, of all subjects, and of all moods were strewn about,
sitting on chairs, lying on tables, hanging on walls, and propped up on the floor. It could have been an art gallery if
there were enough room left for more than five people to stand.
Nerissa had walked into one of the back rooms, leaving Kyle to indulge himself in his surroundings. He
moved about the small open pathway of floor space, the paintings forming a continuous gallery of artistic expression.
One was of an ocean, with a sky of stars above, and a pearl white moon that cast a reflection on the water. The
caption read, 'Serenity.'
"Serenity, huh?" Kyle chuckled to himself in thought. "The one person I'd like to meet and instead of the
Queen, I get a painting."
There were others that caught his eye; people staring into a reflecting pool, only to be greeted with an image
that was not their own; a blonde-haired woman, standing amidst a spectacular windstorm; a picture of a woman turned
to stone; a picture of-
He stopped.
That picture…
That picture of the stone woman was looking at him.
A smile was on her face. A warm, accepting smile. Her poise was one of nobility.
Everything seemed to become dark. The universe shrank until it was just big enough to accommodate the
two of them.
She was magnificent. But her eyes couldn't hide her horror and pain.
The eyes…they bored into his skull…they were so empty, so hollow…
So alone…she looked so alone…
tasukete
Kyle gasped.
tasukete
He tried to turn away, but it had him. He couldn't escape.
tasukete tasukete tasukete tasukete tasuk-
"Kyle!"
He blinked, and shook his head instinctively. His eyes opened, but the picture of the stone woman was
gone.
He had been staring at a mirror.
"Kyle!" Nerissa tried again, shaking his arm. He turned to face her slowly. "What were you doing?"
Kyle glanced at where the stone woman had been, a look of confusion and puzzlement across his features.
"That mirror…" Nerissa glanced at it, obviously confused, but wanting to figure out what in the world was
wrong.
"Now honestly, Kyle, you're not THAT bad looking…" He might have laughed if the incident hadn't disturbed
him so badly.
"N…nevermind…I guess I just need to get more sleep or something…"
Waiting a moment to make sure he would be alright on his own, Nerissa went back to what she had been
doing, organizing paintings. A few more had been brought out from a back room, and set on the remaining empty
easels. When it became clear that Nerissa had no intent of initiating a conversation, Kyle jumped in of his own accord.
"I don't suppose you're going to give me any kind of explanation as to why you're here?"
Righting herself, Nerissa gave the painting she had just placed a critical stare. "I seem to remember you
inviting me to stay. What's wrong with taking a friendly invitation?"
"You didn't tell me anything about your military rank the first time we met," Kyle pointed out.
"Then again, you didn't ask," she added. "You really didn't make too much of an attempt at details before
you invited me to stay at a military installation. I wonder what Internal Affairs would think if they heard about this…"
Kyle weakly gave his reply. "That's not fair…"
"Life isn't fair, Kyle, and neither am I."
She brushed past him with haste, heading for the door. "I'm finished here. We have work to do."
Kyle shielded his eyes from the bright, cold sun as he exited the building, but Nerissa didn't slow down in the
slightest. Apparently, something big was going on, and he wasn't someone who was supposed to be clued in on the
truth. Alex had gathered their unit outside the building, and everyone stood at attention in two rows of seven. His
place in front was missing, but he figured he was going to have better things to do today besides stand in formation.
Nerissa, meanwhile, had made her way to the front of the little assembly. The defiance in her eyes that Kyle had seen
only a moment ago was now banished from her aura of calm. The air seemed to part before her composure. When
she was satisfied that the unit was giving her their undivided attention, she opened her purse to remove the same
golden card he had seen earlier, holding it aloft. Kyle did his best to look as if he knew what was going on.
"This card represents a level nine security clearance, subsection UEF Security Intelligence Operations. I'm
sure all of you know what it means, so I won't patronize you beyond saying that I outrank most anyone in the service.
As of today, I've become the active commander of your unit."
There was no way Kyle could conceal his surprise after that one. His face twisted into a surprised gawk.
Murmured comments drifted through the assembled men. Nerissa paused a moment, then continued, not bothering to
wait for them to cease their whispering.
"You may refer to me as Nerissa, I don't have use for ma'am or sir. My requests of you are very simple;
when I say for you to do something, I need you to do it and do it quickly. I'm here on an important mission, and we
don't have much time. I fear I've waited too long already, so speed is critical with everything we do. As such, I've
arranged to borrow a little toy for our use from your Colonel. I'm going to need thirteen of you to function as gunners,
and two of you to join me on the bridge to run the craft. Mr. Anson will be accompanying me as a liaison to all of you.
Are there any volunteers for the bridge positions?"
Kyle blinked. She was talking about the Picket Cruiser that was assigned to the base. That thing had
enough firepower to stop a minor armed rebellion...he wasn't ever able to figure out why it had been left in the care of
the militia. All they knew was that it was a lot of work to keep it properly maintained and clean. Why would they be
taking it on the patrol?
Alex looked around, noted that no one else was even thinking of taking one for the team, and then stepped
forward with a grin. "I'll follow you anywhere, miss. Name's Alex Saunders, Operations Corporal. I'm your man."
"Have you ever flown one of these ships, Corporal?" Nerissa's arms floated into a crossed position behind
her back.
"No miss, but with your close instruction, I'm sure I'll do fine."
Nerissa smiled back, looking amused. "The only people that call me 'miss' are old men that wish they were
young enough to date women like myself, or young men not smart enough to realize that they don't have a chance in
the first place."
"I'd be number two, miss," he replied, with a wink. To Kyle's great surprise, she seemed to think it was funny.
"Ma'am is bad, but miss is worse, Mister Saunders. You'd do well to remember that. Alright, you're in. Are
there any others?"
No one spoke. Luckily, none of them had to.
"I'm in." A female voice proclaimed.
Kyle turned to his left, spotting the speaker as she walked toward the assembled group. She must have
been new to the militia, he didn't know her face. Most people in the barracks got acquainted soon after they joined.
The girl looked to be about his age, dark hair tied back tight in a braid. Her uniform was impeccable, and it fit her quite
well. *I bet Alex is paying extra special attention to this one...* She stopped at the front of the line, a few feet from
where Alex was 'analyzing' her behind her back. Nerissa looked the newcomer over nonchalantly.
"Who are you?"
"Cassy Laurens, Communications Corporal," she responded. "I'm reporting for duty, and I'd like to
volunteer."
Even though he was the unit leader, Kyle didn't recall anything in the weekly memorandums about his squad
getting a new friend.
"Orders?" Nerissa's voice was crisp. Cassy produced her organizer and handed it to Nerissa, who read the
screen quickly, then handed it back.
"I'd like to help out." Cassy repeated.
"I heard you the first time, Miss Laurens," Nerissa reprimanded. "Any particular reason you want to
volunteer?"
"I was under the impression that this is a military unit, ma'am. Volunteering is supposed to be mandatory."
"Oh, really?" Nerissa smiled slightly, and began to walk in a semi-circle around Cassy. "That's an interesting
concept. Am I supposed to assume that you don't really want to volunteer for this?"
Cassy maintained a neutral look, but something in her was definitely upset that she was being questioned
like this. "I'm better qualified for the job than anyone else here." Nerissa stopped directly behind her.
"Rather presumptuous, don't you think?"
"It's hard to lose when you're aware of your opponent's hand."
"I was going to ask you if you wanted to concede, for just that reason," the older woman shot back.
"Why not raise the stakes? You don't have anything to lose unless you're bluffing," Cassy replied.
Nerissa considered that for a moment, and then smiled. "Alright Miss Laurens, we'll see how you do. Mister
Saunders, you're with me. The rest of you, assign yourselves weapons positions."
With a hustle of activity, the lines broke and everyone gathered their gear. Kyle looked around for Alex, but
his friend wasn't visible amid the commotion. He decided to take in stride next to Nerissa. There were enough
questions he wanted to ask to fill a book.
"How do you know so much about a UEF Picket Cruiser? Last time I checked, UEF Security doesn't require
their officers to memorize the fleet technical manuals."
"I like to read," she responded, striding forward.
"You know the crew compliment and weapons positions of a Picket Cruiser off the top of your head? What
kind of person memorizes that sort of stuff?"
"You?" Nerissa smirked. Kyle blushed, but Alex jumped into step on Nerissa's right, saving him from further
embarrassment.
"You know, I lost my Compin Number yesterday…can I have yours?"
"Try punching in zero-seven and see what happens," Nerissa said back.
"I guess that's supposed to represent my ranking out of a hundred. Don't I get bonus marks for artistic
expression?"
"If you come up with a pickup line worse than that one, I'll respect you." Both of them chuckled.
"I'm on it, beautiful," Alex said, blowing her a kiss and then rushing on board.
Nerissa turned to Kyle. "Friend of yours?"
"Ah…you could say that." He decided to attempt to impress her. "You might want to tell him that you're
already taken."
"I don't seem to remember ever telling you I'm engaged. What gave you that idea?"
"You're wearing a ring on your left hand."
She paused at the foot of the cruiser's loading ramp, thinking for a moment.
"...What of it?"
"Well, I don't mean to pry. I just managed to spot it the other night," Kyle added.
Nerissa glanced at it, and smiled a bit. "It's a symbol of a promise."
"So, am I to take that as a no?"
She shrugged apathetically. With a sigh, Kyle started walking. "I honestly give up …"
He got halfway up the ramp before Nerissa stopped him. "Ex obscurita sumus luxate."
Kyle's head didn't turn.
"It means 'From the darkness, light.' So as it is with life, so as it is with answers. You'll get your truths soon
enough."
There were a few seconds of silence.
"I'll see you on the bridge," Kyle said softly, and walked aboard.
The mechanical portal leading to the command center of the Picket Cruiser gave a hiss of compressed air,
and then snapped open into the walls with a thud. Cassy walked swiftly inside, tailed closely by Alex, then Nerissa,
and Kyle. It was a low-ceilinged room, with three consoles positioned in a triangular arrangement in the center. A
large viewport took up the front and about half of the left and right sides of the bridge, revealing the bright morning
outside. Cassy and Alex took the Port and Starboard pilot stations without bothering to decide which would get which.
Nerissa stood nearby.
Kyle sat down in the center chair with a satisfying thud and put his headset on. He figured that Nerissa
wouldn't want to directly command the cruiser, so he thought that she intended him to work the coordination console.
"All stations report."
Alex sat next to Cassy in his seat and got his headset on. The bridge lights flickered on as he did so, it
looked as if the guys down in Engineering were powering up the core. He pressed a button toward the top of his
console, and the screens leapt to life. "Port Piloting is go."
Cassy had beaten him to the punch by only a second or two. She fitted the small headset into her ear and
started her preflight checks. "Starboard Piloting is go."
"Give me a check on all weapons positions," Kyle ordered, affixing his own headset. "Engineering, main
engines need to be online in one minute."
"Bridge, Engineering; All equipment functioning normally. Preparing initialization."
"Pulse Cannons one through four, give me a go or no go," Alex said, flipping switches.
"Pulse Cannons five through eight, report," Cassy said right back.
"Initiate pulse drives," Kyle ordered. "All hands, prepare for departure."
Cassy flipped a switch on her panel. The sleek cruiser gave a jump, and floated into the air as if it were
made of paper. The gravity inside seemed to lessen a bit.
"Pulse drives activated and functioning within normal parameters. Power relay systems operating at 94%
efficiency."
"All weapon systems report ready, Kyle. Tactical systems are on standby," Alex relayed.
"Right, let's take her out. Engage main engines. Let's see how fast we can get this thing to go."
Outside, the cruiser rose into the air as the pulse drives hummed, rising over the walls of Nyason and then
gently falling to the earth once more. Suddenly, the engines gave a whine of power, and the induction coils fired with a
tremendous roar. The cruiser sped away until it was but a small twinkle in the distance.
Everything seemed to be fine as Kyle checked his indicators. Alex gave a glance over to Cassy, who was
hard at work making sure her console was operating efficiently. He gave a wry grin.
"You're pretty good with your hands."
"Shut up. Commander, my screens show a Y-axis deficiency of five degrees in the port rudder calibration."
Alex gave an obviously rehearsed look of rejection and leaned back in his seat. Kyle tapped a few keys on
his navigation readout.
"Hm, wonder why it's doing that…move left rudder plus five degrees, and recalibrate," Kyle said, sending his
calculations over to Cassy's console. Nerissa snuck up next to Kyle when he wasn't looking.
"Done this before?" He turned his head a little at the sound of her voice, but then went back to what he was
doing.
"Once. We all have to go through training for this thing, even though we never use it."
"You know, it might be none of my business, but you forgot to disengage the fuel constrictors when you
started the engines," Nerissa chided.
"We haven't had a working set of fuel constrictors since the original ones broke down two years ago. We
make do with repairs," Kyle explained. He paused, and then threw her a mildly annoyed look. "If you're from UEF
Security, why don't you get us a new pair?"
"I'll see what I can do," she responded, with a chuckle.
Alex finished all the system startups and gripped the control matrix. "We're ready to go, Ma'am. Where to?"
"Set heading zero-one-five degrees. We're going to head north-northeast until we get to our destination."
"And what exactly is our destination?" Alex keyed in the coordinates as he spoke.
"I'll be perfectly willing to tell you that when you outrank me, Corporal."
"I love a woman who won't let me boss them around, you know." Alex chimed in.
"Hey, stop messing around and get it in gear, smart guy," Cassy piped up. "Two-thirds throttle."
"Right, two-thirds," Alex responded, pushing the matrix forward, and giving it a jerk to the left. The cruiser
blasted over the grasslands of Titania, which slowly began to turn into sparse patches of desert. Kyle felt a lurch as
the engines shifted into overdrive. Nerissa made sure that everything was going well, then sat in one of the vacant
seats and opened her purse.
"So, what does a high-ranking military officer carry in her purse? Poison lipstick? Proximity-detonation nail
polish?"
"What do you think I carry in it, Kyle?"
"Do I look like I carry a purse? It's not like I know what you women keep in there. I do just fine without one."
"So I take it that means you don't want to guess?"
"Do you ever give a straight answer?" Kyle sounded a bit frustrated, which was predictable.
"What do you think?" Nerissa smiled coquettishly. Alex chuckled quietly to himself, but Kyle heard him
anyway, and pointed an accusing finger.
"You be quiet, smart guy."
"I can't help it, you're just too funny. You're not supposed to ask a woman what's in her purse," Alex
explained.
"And why is that, O lord of all answers?"
"Because some things were never meant to be revealed to the simple male folk." Nerissa laughed after
hearing that. Kyle turned red in frustration.
"You can call us whatever you like, but at least we don't have to carry purses. I couldn't stand walking
around with all that stuff."
"Well, we're here for a reason, and that's to carry things for the female gender. Can I get that for you,
Ma'am?" Alex shot a glance over to the teal-haired woman, who waved a hand in response.
"Oh, give it a rest already," Cassy chided in. "You shouldn't act like that unless you know the person."
Alex quickly turned to Cassy, and flashed his patented grin. "I'm sorry, angel, we haven't met…I'm Ale-"
Cassy promptly slapped him, and he recoiled like an injured animal. Kyle nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
"What the hell did you do that for?!"
"You're not my type," Cassy stated.
"You didn't have to SLAP me!"
"I beg to differ. I think you had rather indecent intentions," she chided.
"Oh, you have to give him a little leeway, he was just trying to introduce himself," Nerissa cut in.
"The last time I checked, the only men who actually introduce themselves with a pickup line make their home
in bars."
Alex gave a small 'hmph' of protest, and all was silent until Kyle started laughing again.
"What the hell is so funny?"
"You went down in flames, big man," Kyle said, through a huge grin.
"Oh, get back to work," Alex demanded, and resumed his duties silently. Nerissa swiveled in her chair to
face Kyle.
"Your friend is quite the Casanova."
"Tell me about it," Kyle responded, flicking switches.
"Hey Kyle," came a voice over the intercom. "this is Stevenson down in gunnery four. Where are we going?"
"That's need to know information, and you don't need to know, Stevenson," Kyle said back, quite pleased
with himself. "Not that I know either. It's a surprise."
"Wow, that was helpful. See if I ever ask you anything again," he said back, and closed the channel. Kyle
turned to look for Nerissa, but she was out of her seat and staring out the main viewport.
"Exactly where ARE we going? We're not just out here for fun, are we?" Nerissa didn't turn around.
"How far have we traveled?"
Cassy caught the request, and tapped her console. "About seventeen kilometers."
"That should be enough. Set us down here."
"Yes ma'am," Kyle responded, a bit disconcerted. Nerissa's voice was full of intent, and it spooked him a bit.
"Set her down, Alex."
"All stop, aye," Alex responded, powering down the engines and working a few other tasks at the same time.
"Landing struts in position…"
A deep thud from below their feet signaled that the ship had touched down. Kyle checked the holomap on
his console. They were pretty far away from the settlement now…but the odd thing was that they were in the middle of
nowhere. He couldn't imagine what Nerissa intended to accomplish by bringing them out here.
"Alright, I'm leaving the ship on business. Your orders are to proceed onward on your normal patrol route.
Since you have the cruiser, your route today will include Sirtar Canyon."
Alex blinked. "Where the heck is that?"
"Out in the center of the wastelands, I think," Kyle answered. "Why Sirtar Canyon?"
"Because I want you to check it out, that's why."
"Blah blah blah, do this, do that…" Alex mumbled softly to himself, punching buttons a bit harder than usual
in protest.
"You won't be able to reach me, so if you have something significant to report, come back to this spot. I'll be
waiting for you."
"Right," Kyle answered. "Good luck with whatever you're going to do out there."
"Thanks," Nerissa said back, walking toward the doors.
Nerissa left the bridge, and Kyle returned to his duties.
