It was the tenth time they tried to break through the barrier that Carbron and Tormak had so expertly created. Cassie had sat back and let them do their work for the past few weeks. She wasn't all that great at construction, anyway. Though they seem to think that's a trait all humans carry, she thought amusedly to herself.

It didn't matter – not once had the creatures managed to get through the barricade and into their makeshift camp. However, supplies were running short – the Matter Replication Unit (or MRU) was running out of fuel, and soon their food supply would dwindle down to nothing. Cassie was only lucky that the HEV was capable of making use of her waste – otherwise, things would not be smelling so nice, she thought to herself.

As is the standard for every other day she had survived in this hellhole, her thoughts turned to Jake, who was somewhere in this ship. She knew it. She could feel it. I'm sorry, Ronnie…

Thoughts of her near-fiancee were quickly shoved from her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. It would only take away from the task at hand. And what task would that be, Cassie?

"Shut up," she muttered to herself.

Carbron swerved his stalk eyes around to her. Is something wrong, Cassie?

Cassie, broken from her reverie, looked up to the Andalite. She shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

Right.

*****

Brian awoke with a flutter of his eyes. He was in the cube, still. How long had I been out? He wondered. He decided that he didn't want to know the answer to that particular question. Rather, he looked about, trying to find his comrade. McCain was nowhere to be found.

"Chris?" He called out. "Chris!"

Silence. Even now, there was not even an echo.

West brought up his communications system and started calling up the remainder of the Seraphims. Comms were down. Nothing worked.

"Dammit…" he growled.

"Why do you trouble yourself, so?" the eerily quiet voice asked. It seemed as if the words pierced through his mind.

West spun around and looked toward the speaker. It was certainly humanoid, that much was clear. Seemingly male, about six feet, maybe a little taller. His skin was almost pure white, with a slight tinge of navy blue. He wore a black leather trenchcoat that was tightly fastened by belts and buckles across his body. In his left hand was a syringe. His right, a large knife. As he moved, whirring and clicking could be heard within his body. It was an odd sight, to be sure.

Brian looked at him cautiously. "I'm looking for my team."

The creature/man shrugged, advancing slowly on him. "I have not seen them. But we'll search for them, yes?"

West frowned. He gripped the M-25 that was in his hands, taking a step back from the figure. "Perhaps. But who are you?"

The creature moved even moreso forward. "I am here to help you. You can't search this ship all on your own."

"You evaded the question." The Commander brought his M-25 to bear on him. "Now, talk."

With a simple wave of his gloved hand, a beam of space rippled from the creature to the weapon, which flew out of West's hands and was sent skittering across the floor of the cube, smacking against the wall before stopping. "We have a use for you, yes. You will do what is required, whether you want to, or not…"

 The humanoid charged forward, knife raised to strike. Brian rolled left to evade him, getting to his feet and delivering a kick to the stomach. He didn't even budge, but turned and slashed with the knife, cutting into one of the armorless joints, nicking his arm. West hissed with slight pain, but moved back away from him. He tried to draw one of his Glocks, but it seemed as if an invisible barrier kept him from doing so.

Focus, Brian…! He sidestepped a second thrust, striking his attacker with a backhanded punch that did nearly nothing. In return, the air shimmered again, this time blasting him in the chest, which sent him flying across the cube and landing on the other side of the room, striking the wall before doing so.

West got to his feet, shaking off his pain. He looked at the cretin, who seemed as if levitating off the ground, moving quicker than he had thought possible. He reached his right arm out to get ready for another evasion, and heard a pair of explosions. Oh, man. He's starting to blow things up.

The trenchcoated monstrosity turned around instinctively to the sound, and at the same moment, the ripple effect began from Brian's extended hand, moving speedily towards his opponent, striking him in the back. He arched back, screaming loudly and sputtering out fragmented words in a language that West had no way of understanding. The thing quivered on the floor, as if shocked by an unknown source, until finally lying still.

Across the room, from a entrance that Brian was planning to exit to, a man stood, smoking .45 revolver in hand. He looked only slightly older than West, a pair of wire-frame glasses over his blue eyes. Wearing a labcoat, he walked with a slight limp, but tended to move quickly.

He did this while approaching Brian. The man spoke in fits, taking an excited breath every so often. "So it, is true. You are, the one, they speak of."

Brian looked inquiringly toward the man. "And you are?"

The man adjusted his glasses as he limped over to shake West's hand. "My name, is Dr., Joseph Petrofski. I am, or was, a prisoner, in this place. And your name?"

John Murdoch, Brian thought sarcastically to himself. "Commander Brian West. I'm here to evacuate everyone out of here."

The "doctor" smiled knowingly but desparingly, something which sent a chill down West's spine. "Wonderful. But come. We must, not wait, for them to, arrive here. They will, come back, soon."