---ZO'OR: FINAL CONFLICT---
a story on several instalments
the usual disclaimers apply
all non-EFC characters (c)2001 IAO
this instalment is unrated
10
And who payed Sandoval?
The FBI? Zo'or? Both?
Companions couldn't pay Sandoval--they believed wealth to be an abhorrence. And, how could the FBI pay Sandoval if he was always busy being Zo'or's pet? Well, all pets ought to be mantained, and Zo'or had had the means to please his doggy as the mighty master he was: now he could even give him passage into the future, as if god.. And why not, Sandoval had proven to be the best Companion Protector around: he had survived CVI deterioration and malfunctions, a mental healt crisis, accidents, attacks, his marriage, and the life of thousands of his people--dead after his master's whim. 'THE BEST SHOULD BE KEPT AT ALL COSTS'--Zo'or understood that, though his fellow Companions couldn't.
Let's suppose humans are in fact an 'inferior' inteligent lifeform. And why is that? Because of the need to deal on material interests. In this case, Companions would think that advansed inteligent lifeforms base their progress on mutual cooperation looking to benefit everyone. Check this simplified Taelon Agenda: 'You Humans are sick, hungry, and massively violent; we Companions are giving you advanced healing techniques, the means to make deserts bloom, and enough entertaiment to shut off wars. We Companions are very sad some humans chose to embrace the Void before getting to know us better. In fact, you could (will) cooperate with us: our goal is to eliminate the Jaridian Threat, no matter if we have to rehabilitate them for peace... or to make them embrace the Void... or whatever comes first or both. We would require cannon fodder.'
Well, too bad Communism became currently 'out' as in a fashion-magazine- term: its ideas of ultimate utopia based in cooperation without profit got suffocated between corruption, shallow privileges, and oppression. That's just one reason why the Companions cooperative scheme moved so many misfits- -inteligent people choose whatever means of resistence (or are you people dumb?). Zo'or didn't want any misfits for himself--like those pathetic folks at the Church of the Companions, or the Sisters at the Cloister (though it was nice to have Mother Superior), or any Da'anesque avatar of a sweet lie--, and he probably knew the political history of the world in general to be sure his way to approach 'the best of' humankind was the correct one: you cannot talk to a dog in a higher language expecting it to understand you, you have to motivate the dog in its language--wave some bacon around its nose. This is so easy to understand I don't know why most Taelons, in their 'superior brain', couldn't.
***
Zo'or stood next to Sandoval's stasis pallet, the one which was originally reserved for him. He contemplated the stretched body of his attaché, dressed in a fine blue suit, his face looked handsomely soft, his eyes closed as if peacefully sleeping; even though it wasn't his choice to undertake stasis at Zo'or's whim... he complied.
**To attain de-evolution is the prime reason for us to be here, Agent Sandoval,** Zo'or confesed to the deaf link of the Commonality as if his implant could have the ability to listen to his thoughts. **Companions believed humans to be a lost-now-found link in our evolutionary ladder--so we required live subjects to experiment upon,** his elegant fingers outlined the contours of his face. Sandoval proved to be inteligent, very smart to have really deceived him once; and his body, resistant and aestethically pleasing: a fine source of genetic material.
He smirked at his attaché's quiet face recalling another one of his 'science projects': **Let us mix Sandoval's genes with others from strong women to produce offspring that could be very strong and resistant so we can grow them into perfect test subjects.** He was so proud of his human farm... if not for the restrainings of the Commonality he could have made a bussines out of it, selling them as exceptional implanted soldiers--a noveau concept he got from Sandoval. A couple of months ago he personally had to choose which subjects were destined to be preserved in stasis tanks, the others would have to be terminated. He himself gave the order to destroy two dozen of perfect human kids aged 1 to 6--there wasn't enough energy to keep this proyect alive. He felt sorry to haved terminated 3 of Da'an Taelonville babies--he really liked that usefull project, though he couldn't understand why Da'an acted so irresponsably over his practical self assingments--; but he would not terminate his gene source, he'll be dead one day soon anyway. **I shall squeeze--as humans say--all your juice, Agent Sandoval.**
Then he raised his head and looked around at his people in that chamber, at his parent lying on the stasis pallet next to Sandoval's, all of them lying like sleepers... he could have had fatalists thoughts, yet he didn't surrender to them. He transmitted to deaf Da'an **My opinion stands: that is why I had to order termination for all William Boone offspring. I still prefer Sandoval's...** Sandoval, Sandoval, Sandoval... his mind reeled back to Dolores Martirio's tasteless nursery rhyme, his memory reproduced Lola's voice like a mantra '...dásela a Sandoval... dásela a Sandoval... dásela a Sandoval...' his perfect recall even played back the music Lola was dancing to... Zo'or was having a dream.
...
While remembering techno melodies and composing daydreams over them, Zo'or's fingers caressed his implant face; then started to decend in the most graceful touch along his profile to his neck and over his tie and shirt. Zo'or walked a step to allow his hand further down to his waist, it wandered under the buttoned jacket only to be detained by a hard object yet soft to the touch; Zo'or squeezed that object and pull out to find Sandoval's Global.
** To follow one's dreams--no matter how unconventional--is always fruitfull.**
QUOTIDIAN INTERRUPTED
After some time really alone, wandering the psychic dry link only to talk to himself... browsing Sandoval's Global... desingning an energy canister... spying on his four favorite volunteers... Zo'or realized he had become a captive to his chair, to his solitude. He couldn't know how to abandon his paranoia over losing control. He was alone; and sometimes the sense of panic over it worked as if nausea for a human. He started having panic attacks.
He discovered that spying on humans calmed down his 'nausea'. **Humans are sentient after all.**
While working on the computer almost non-stop he got hooked on his three sub-windows showing him how was life for Stone and Anderson... for Ishikawa... for Martirio... he witnessed shadow boxing, solo dancing, lovemaking, behavior protocol breaching, smoking, card games... he became acostumed to them, and a sense of longing invaded him as he discovered he was... shy? It could be easy to reach out to them and order them whatever his alien fancy, but that meant he was always going to be their superior, **and humans are prone to 'fear their superiors'.**
Among Companions things were different, Zo'or used to think; there was not a concept of V.I.P. as all Companions were important subjects within the Commonality and to communicate with one another was always welcomed. But now it was too late to appreciate the advantages of the Commonality, as he himself was the one who chose to be extremely private. He recalled everything started when he was very young, and over an apparently non important issue--he could not grhhhh'ahhhh things up--, so anything he could achieve was always shadowed by that small detail. At that time in his early youth he didn't understand how important was for him to be able to grhhhh'ahhhh objects; later he knew...
...for his everlasting shame.
**I am not... 'Perfection'...** he held up Sandoval's Global the same way a human would--using fingers to pick up the object--, but to grhhhh'ahhhh an object he didn't need any help from his fingers as the object would stick to his handpalm. He tried to hold Sandoval's Global the correct way, but to no use: the global dropped to the floor. ''SHA'BRA!'' Zo'or shouted in anger at his lifetime frustration, his hands squeezed into fists, his nose flared wide along with his hard breathing. ''...I'm afraid... I'm truly destined... to be the last... of my species...'' He got surprised at a lonely tear threatening to run down his solid façade, he blushed blue once his fingers made contact with it.
Then, after having using his damned fingers to clean the intrusive tear of shame, Zo'or composed himself and waved open the datastream and his perfect'eye. A blue print of his new canister appeared before him... And Ishikawa was sleeping and dreaming--Zo'or could even check on his R.E.M.--. Stone was eating in the mess hall--he had noticed he seldomly ate his rations with his lover in the same table--; Anderson was three tables away, and was joined by other hungry volunteers who quickly attacked their serving of a bland white stuff, very similar to mashed potatoes, but enhanced with secret additives their implants needed to function properly. And there was Martirio...
''Martirio,'' Zo'or said as he saw her lying down under the shower, the water hitting her naked body; she seemed to have fainted. ''Computer, contact emergency personel, there has been an accident.''
''Location.''
''Volunteer's sanitary facilities...''
''Unable to comply. There had been a malfunction in module ahhh'tahhhrghhh, level chrhhu'bihhh, sector kadhhhaehhh.''
''Switch to back up comm system, and repeat the order.''
''Back up comm system on line... Unable to comply, there has been an error in routing.''
''...Sha'bra...'' Zo'or said along his breathing, his eyes constantly on Martirio's body--the way it was positioned allowed the water to pool besides her face in a way her mouth and nose could soon be covered--; he had to focuss his mind to find a quick solution, his eyes came to the floor to find Sandoval's Global lying there. ''Computer, show me the personnel files for Volunteers Kelvin Stone, Thomas Anderson, and Ishikawa Hi ...''
...
Zo'or grabed the Global from the floor and dialed a call to Stone... but his Global was off, as well as Anderson's; he saw over his datastream they were heading 'to be together again', as Anderson wasn't in the mess hall and Stone was leaving--he knew that game already: both volunteers used to take diferent routes to meet over the same spot--. They wouldn't want any calls.
...
Zo'or let go of his façade.
He dialed Ishikawa.
...
***
...
''Marutirio is already in the infirmary,'' Ishikawa answered over a Global transmition.
''Very well,'' Zo'or's energy pulses showed complacence; he cut the transmition and closed Sandoval's Global.
***
''How many times do I have to tell you it is nothing?'' Anderson told his superior yet walking down the corridor with some hurry.
''You will keep on walking... and keep the posture...'' Stone answered back stiffly.
''...don't play Sargent Paranoia on me...''
Stone stopped his march. ''Anderson...'' and continued his sentence once Thomas stopped his walking too, ''do not make this an order. I will escort you to the sickbay.''
Thomas looked at his boyfriend seriously in the eyes, then he looked at the palm of his left hand, there was a cigarrette burn on the root of the middle finger. Both of them knew cigarrettes were banned on the Mothership, but they thought they could get away with sharing just a couple... before engaging in their furtive lovemaking. But then there was a small accident: Kelvin let go off a lit butt over his uniform, Thomas tried to save him from a burnt hole, he succeed in finger-kick the butt away but he lost his balance and his hand came over it: their intimacy was over after Kelvin took a look on his subordinate's hand and kissed the affected part.
''Go ahead.'' Kelvin said interrupting Thomas' fantasies.
''Aye, sir.''
***
Zo'or arrived to the infirmary by portal.
He entered this medical facility in his natural energy state, didn't care to follow his imposed protocol: almost three years ago, soon after being appointed as Leader of the Synod, Zo'or suggested all Companions to appear dressed and solid before humans in an effort 'not to frighten them'. Companions accepted his suggestion, later to find the Mothership invaded by humans... so Zo'or could always walk solid and dressed, his energy pathways hidden for anyone to notice the energy pulses of his secret plots and schemes.
''I require some privacy, leave us...'' Zo'or anounced to a trio of medical drones raising his energy lited hand, yet his elongated sight lobes were over Martirio's covered body. He approached; his hand extended and grabed the thick pale blue blanket away--if only he could... grhhhhahhhh things with his hand he could have press it to hers and take easily from her mind... and he could know her the natural way. But, as for now, he would have to conform with the oportunity of watching her in the flesh, knowing he will never truly know her unless she's willing to share.
Now Zo'or ocurred that was one of the reasons he was chosen as Leader of the Synod: he could never be near knowing an unwilling individual, let alone a Companion; yet every Companion knew it could be easy to take from him... to force him to share.
Zo'or passed a scanner over Lola's still wet head; a sound showed him her implant was malfunctioning, **...sha'bra... everything is starting to die around this ship...** He neared the scanner to the tissue in her neck... there was some kind of alien bodily fluid inside of it, maybe human blood... he took a closer look... a tiny pearl of a pewter color was formed within the implant's tissue. Zo'or touched his fingers to the implant and massaged it, the pewter pearl seemed to enlarge; Lola started to wake as her sudden moaning began--something Zo'or found amusing so he continued massaging her implant--and a faint pleasure response was transmitted, a feeling which made Zo'or reach for her limp hand and obsenely contemplate it.
But he let her hand go as soon as an intrusion invaded the chamber: Volunteers Anderson and Stone irrupted the scene, both noticing how weird there was no one around.
''Indeed there's nobody around; I excused them.'' Zo'or said showing the energy pulses of a quick temper.
The volunteers didn't expect any Taelon showing, they greeted in the accustomed manner. ''We are sorry,'' said Stone.
''Are you in need of healing?''
''Y... yes,'' Anderson answered, unsuspectingly showing Zo'or his injury.
A quick look made Zo'or blush as if feeling nausea: for Taelons injured handpalms showed always sights of horror.
*********
Good? Bad? Fair?
You know? I don't care.
Coming next time: Taelon Porn!
a story on several instalments
the usual disclaimers apply
all non-EFC characters (c)2001 IAO
this instalment is unrated
10
And who payed Sandoval?
The FBI? Zo'or? Both?
Companions couldn't pay Sandoval--they believed wealth to be an abhorrence. And, how could the FBI pay Sandoval if he was always busy being Zo'or's pet? Well, all pets ought to be mantained, and Zo'or had had the means to please his doggy as the mighty master he was: now he could even give him passage into the future, as if god.. And why not, Sandoval had proven to be the best Companion Protector around: he had survived CVI deterioration and malfunctions, a mental healt crisis, accidents, attacks, his marriage, and the life of thousands of his people--dead after his master's whim. 'THE BEST SHOULD BE KEPT AT ALL COSTS'--Zo'or understood that, though his fellow Companions couldn't.
Let's suppose humans are in fact an 'inferior' inteligent lifeform. And why is that? Because of the need to deal on material interests. In this case, Companions would think that advansed inteligent lifeforms base their progress on mutual cooperation looking to benefit everyone. Check this simplified Taelon Agenda: 'You Humans are sick, hungry, and massively violent; we Companions are giving you advanced healing techniques, the means to make deserts bloom, and enough entertaiment to shut off wars. We Companions are very sad some humans chose to embrace the Void before getting to know us better. In fact, you could (will) cooperate with us: our goal is to eliminate the Jaridian Threat, no matter if we have to rehabilitate them for peace... or to make them embrace the Void... or whatever comes first or both. We would require cannon fodder.'
Well, too bad Communism became currently 'out' as in a fashion-magazine- term: its ideas of ultimate utopia based in cooperation without profit got suffocated between corruption, shallow privileges, and oppression. That's just one reason why the Companions cooperative scheme moved so many misfits- -inteligent people choose whatever means of resistence (or are you people dumb?). Zo'or didn't want any misfits for himself--like those pathetic folks at the Church of the Companions, or the Sisters at the Cloister (though it was nice to have Mother Superior), or any Da'anesque avatar of a sweet lie--, and he probably knew the political history of the world in general to be sure his way to approach 'the best of' humankind was the correct one: you cannot talk to a dog in a higher language expecting it to understand you, you have to motivate the dog in its language--wave some bacon around its nose. This is so easy to understand I don't know why most Taelons, in their 'superior brain', couldn't.
***
Zo'or stood next to Sandoval's stasis pallet, the one which was originally reserved for him. He contemplated the stretched body of his attaché, dressed in a fine blue suit, his face looked handsomely soft, his eyes closed as if peacefully sleeping; even though it wasn't his choice to undertake stasis at Zo'or's whim... he complied.
**To attain de-evolution is the prime reason for us to be here, Agent Sandoval,** Zo'or confesed to the deaf link of the Commonality as if his implant could have the ability to listen to his thoughts. **Companions believed humans to be a lost-now-found link in our evolutionary ladder--so we required live subjects to experiment upon,** his elegant fingers outlined the contours of his face. Sandoval proved to be inteligent, very smart to have really deceived him once; and his body, resistant and aestethically pleasing: a fine source of genetic material.
He smirked at his attaché's quiet face recalling another one of his 'science projects': **Let us mix Sandoval's genes with others from strong women to produce offspring that could be very strong and resistant so we can grow them into perfect test subjects.** He was so proud of his human farm... if not for the restrainings of the Commonality he could have made a bussines out of it, selling them as exceptional implanted soldiers--a noveau concept he got from Sandoval. A couple of months ago he personally had to choose which subjects were destined to be preserved in stasis tanks, the others would have to be terminated. He himself gave the order to destroy two dozen of perfect human kids aged 1 to 6--there wasn't enough energy to keep this proyect alive. He felt sorry to haved terminated 3 of Da'an Taelonville babies--he really liked that usefull project, though he couldn't understand why Da'an acted so irresponsably over his practical self assingments--; but he would not terminate his gene source, he'll be dead one day soon anyway. **I shall squeeze--as humans say--all your juice, Agent Sandoval.**
Then he raised his head and looked around at his people in that chamber, at his parent lying on the stasis pallet next to Sandoval's, all of them lying like sleepers... he could have had fatalists thoughts, yet he didn't surrender to them. He transmitted to deaf Da'an **My opinion stands: that is why I had to order termination for all William Boone offspring. I still prefer Sandoval's...** Sandoval, Sandoval, Sandoval... his mind reeled back to Dolores Martirio's tasteless nursery rhyme, his memory reproduced Lola's voice like a mantra '...dásela a Sandoval... dásela a Sandoval... dásela a Sandoval...' his perfect recall even played back the music Lola was dancing to... Zo'or was having a dream.
...
While remembering techno melodies and composing daydreams over them, Zo'or's fingers caressed his implant face; then started to decend in the most graceful touch along his profile to his neck and over his tie and shirt. Zo'or walked a step to allow his hand further down to his waist, it wandered under the buttoned jacket only to be detained by a hard object yet soft to the touch; Zo'or squeezed that object and pull out to find Sandoval's Global.
** To follow one's dreams--no matter how unconventional--is always fruitfull.**
QUOTIDIAN INTERRUPTED
After some time really alone, wandering the psychic dry link only to talk to himself... browsing Sandoval's Global... desingning an energy canister... spying on his four favorite volunteers... Zo'or realized he had become a captive to his chair, to his solitude. He couldn't know how to abandon his paranoia over losing control. He was alone; and sometimes the sense of panic over it worked as if nausea for a human. He started having panic attacks.
He discovered that spying on humans calmed down his 'nausea'. **Humans are sentient after all.**
While working on the computer almost non-stop he got hooked on his three sub-windows showing him how was life for Stone and Anderson... for Ishikawa... for Martirio... he witnessed shadow boxing, solo dancing, lovemaking, behavior protocol breaching, smoking, card games... he became acostumed to them, and a sense of longing invaded him as he discovered he was... shy? It could be easy to reach out to them and order them whatever his alien fancy, but that meant he was always going to be their superior, **and humans are prone to 'fear their superiors'.**
Among Companions things were different, Zo'or used to think; there was not a concept of V.I.P. as all Companions were important subjects within the Commonality and to communicate with one another was always welcomed. But now it was too late to appreciate the advantages of the Commonality, as he himself was the one who chose to be extremely private. He recalled everything started when he was very young, and over an apparently non important issue--he could not grhhhh'ahhhh things up--, so anything he could achieve was always shadowed by that small detail. At that time in his early youth he didn't understand how important was for him to be able to grhhhh'ahhhh objects; later he knew...
...for his everlasting shame.
**I am not... 'Perfection'...** he held up Sandoval's Global the same way a human would--using fingers to pick up the object--, but to grhhhh'ahhhh an object he didn't need any help from his fingers as the object would stick to his handpalm. He tried to hold Sandoval's Global the correct way, but to no use: the global dropped to the floor. ''SHA'BRA!'' Zo'or shouted in anger at his lifetime frustration, his hands squeezed into fists, his nose flared wide along with his hard breathing. ''...I'm afraid... I'm truly destined... to be the last... of my species...'' He got surprised at a lonely tear threatening to run down his solid façade, he blushed blue once his fingers made contact with it.
Then, after having using his damned fingers to clean the intrusive tear of shame, Zo'or composed himself and waved open the datastream and his perfect'eye. A blue print of his new canister appeared before him... And Ishikawa was sleeping and dreaming--Zo'or could even check on his R.E.M.--. Stone was eating in the mess hall--he had noticed he seldomly ate his rations with his lover in the same table--; Anderson was three tables away, and was joined by other hungry volunteers who quickly attacked their serving of a bland white stuff, very similar to mashed potatoes, but enhanced with secret additives their implants needed to function properly. And there was Martirio...
''Martirio,'' Zo'or said as he saw her lying down under the shower, the water hitting her naked body; she seemed to have fainted. ''Computer, contact emergency personel, there has been an accident.''
''Location.''
''Volunteer's sanitary facilities...''
''Unable to comply. There had been a malfunction in module ahhh'tahhhrghhh, level chrhhu'bihhh, sector kadhhhaehhh.''
''Switch to back up comm system, and repeat the order.''
''Back up comm system on line... Unable to comply, there has been an error in routing.''
''...Sha'bra...'' Zo'or said along his breathing, his eyes constantly on Martirio's body--the way it was positioned allowed the water to pool besides her face in a way her mouth and nose could soon be covered--; he had to focuss his mind to find a quick solution, his eyes came to the floor to find Sandoval's Global lying there. ''Computer, show me the personnel files for Volunteers Kelvin Stone, Thomas Anderson, and Ishikawa Hi ...''
...
Zo'or grabed the Global from the floor and dialed a call to Stone... but his Global was off, as well as Anderson's; he saw over his datastream they were heading 'to be together again', as Anderson wasn't in the mess hall and Stone was leaving--he knew that game already: both volunteers used to take diferent routes to meet over the same spot--. They wouldn't want any calls.
...
Zo'or let go of his façade.
He dialed Ishikawa.
...
***
...
''Marutirio is already in the infirmary,'' Ishikawa answered over a Global transmition.
''Very well,'' Zo'or's energy pulses showed complacence; he cut the transmition and closed Sandoval's Global.
***
''How many times do I have to tell you it is nothing?'' Anderson told his superior yet walking down the corridor with some hurry.
''You will keep on walking... and keep the posture...'' Stone answered back stiffly.
''...don't play Sargent Paranoia on me...''
Stone stopped his march. ''Anderson...'' and continued his sentence once Thomas stopped his walking too, ''do not make this an order. I will escort you to the sickbay.''
Thomas looked at his boyfriend seriously in the eyes, then he looked at the palm of his left hand, there was a cigarrette burn on the root of the middle finger. Both of them knew cigarrettes were banned on the Mothership, but they thought they could get away with sharing just a couple... before engaging in their furtive lovemaking. But then there was a small accident: Kelvin let go off a lit butt over his uniform, Thomas tried to save him from a burnt hole, he succeed in finger-kick the butt away but he lost his balance and his hand came over it: their intimacy was over after Kelvin took a look on his subordinate's hand and kissed the affected part.
''Go ahead.'' Kelvin said interrupting Thomas' fantasies.
''Aye, sir.''
***
Zo'or arrived to the infirmary by portal.
He entered this medical facility in his natural energy state, didn't care to follow his imposed protocol: almost three years ago, soon after being appointed as Leader of the Synod, Zo'or suggested all Companions to appear dressed and solid before humans in an effort 'not to frighten them'. Companions accepted his suggestion, later to find the Mothership invaded by humans... so Zo'or could always walk solid and dressed, his energy pathways hidden for anyone to notice the energy pulses of his secret plots and schemes.
''I require some privacy, leave us...'' Zo'or anounced to a trio of medical drones raising his energy lited hand, yet his elongated sight lobes were over Martirio's covered body. He approached; his hand extended and grabed the thick pale blue blanket away--if only he could... grhhhhahhhh things with his hand he could have press it to hers and take easily from her mind... and he could know her the natural way. But, as for now, he would have to conform with the oportunity of watching her in the flesh, knowing he will never truly know her unless she's willing to share.
Now Zo'or ocurred that was one of the reasons he was chosen as Leader of the Synod: he could never be near knowing an unwilling individual, let alone a Companion; yet every Companion knew it could be easy to take from him... to force him to share.
Zo'or passed a scanner over Lola's still wet head; a sound showed him her implant was malfunctioning, **...sha'bra... everything is starting to die around this ship...** He neared the scanner to the tissue in her neck... there was some kind of alien bodily fluid inside of it, maybe human blood... he took a closer look... a tiny pearl of a pewter color was formed within the implant's tissue. Zo'or touched his fingers to the implant and massaged it, the pewter pearl seemed to enlarge; Lola started to wake as her sudden moaning began--something Zo'or found amusing so he continued massaging her implant--and a faint pleasure response was transmitted, a feeling which made Zo'or reach for her limp hand and obsenely contemplate it.
But he let her hand go as soon as an intrusion invaded the chamber: Volunteers Anderson and Stone irrupted the scene, both noticing how weird there was no one around.
''Indeed there's nobody around; I excused them.'' Zo'or said showing the energy pulses of a quick temper.
The volunteers didn't expect any Taelon showing, they greeted in the accustomed manner. ''We are sorry,'' said Stone.
''Are you in need of healing?''
''Y... yes,'' Anderson answered, unsuspectingly showing Zo'or his injury.
A quick look made Zo'or blush as if feeling nausea: for Taelons injured handpalms showed always sights of horror.
*********
Good? Bad? Fair?
You know? I don't care.
Coming next time: Taelon Porn!