Taelon Mothership
Friday, 13:45 EST

Jonathan Doors had been on the Mothership a total of three times, none of which had been particularly pleasant experiences. However, he could tell instantly that this visit would likely be his worst.

Zo'or was obviously very distraught when Doors was showed in. He had never seen any of the aliens truly angry, and had for a long time been uncertain if they were even capable of emotion. The image of Zo'or, hunched over by the bridge viewport, however, answered that question for him. Though his facial expression was, as always, unreadable, his very posture told him all he needed. Doors was suddenly very conscious of the two armed Volunteers standing behind him.

What is it you have done, mister Doors? Zo'or demanded.

Doors frowned. I don't understand.

Do not toy with me, Zo'or growled. The Taelon liaison to the United Nations is close to death, and I demand to know your involvement in this affair.

Outwardly, Doors was concerned at the news. Inwardly, he was shocked. An attack on a Taelon in itself would not come as much of a surprise; it would hardly be the first. But Ni'ram? That particular alien was possibly the most popular individual in the world; why would anyone want him dead?

But Zo'or was unwilling to let him fully process this information. Lines of energy traced across the alien's face as he pressed on. Doors noted on some level that he had never seen Zo'or lose his composure even to this degree. This attempt on Ni'ram's life can only be the result of a coordinated Resistance act, Zo'or pressed, and you cannot deny that you are still a prominent figure in this organization. Furthermore, this incident involved the sabotage of an interdimensional portal, an industry to which Doors International has of late had a great deal of access and interest. You are the ideal mastermind, Mr. Doors, and this cannot be denied.

I separated myself from the Resistance months ago, Doors said, very aware of the need to choose his words carefully. I make no secret of my skepticism at the Taelons' presence here, but I do not and have never supported the violent tendencies which the Resistance can, on occasion, employ. If I did, he added silently, you wouldn't still be alive. For the briefest of moments, he toyed with the idea of saying this out loud, but Zo'or again did not give him the opportunity, even if he had really wanted to.

You expect me to believe this? Zo'or had not moved an inch, reminding Doors of some animal ready to pounce. Though Doors could not imagine a Taelon performing such an action, it was still unsettling to observe.

I'm sorry to hear about Ni'ram, Doors continued, but I honestly had no knowledge of this matter until just now. And I would be more than happy to offer the full services of Doors International towards finding the true killer.

For a moment, Zo'or seemed openly confused. Then, he straightened, and his entire face disappeared in a blush, and energy veins appeared in his arms and legs as well. Even after the blush faded, it was several seconds before he spoke again. When he did, it was with his usual air of calm calculatedness; all traces of anger were gone. That will not be necessary, he said. But I would suggest that you shut down all of Doors International's functioning portals until this matter is resolved and the saboteur found. With that, he turned, signaling that it was time for Doors to leave. As the Volunteers led him back to his shuttle, he finally went over the situation as he knew it now.

First, an explosion had killed three Taelons of relatively minor significance—the most important being a supervisor on the Portal Grid—whose deaths would likely never become public knowledge. Now, another portal had nearly claimed the life of the Taelon liaison to the UN. The only Taelon with a higher profile worldwide was Zo'or himself, and Ni'ram was much more often seen in public; he could not help but be missed. Doors had no details yet of the second incident, but it did not seem like the work of a single person; at least, not one with a clear goal. But, two separate saboteurs creating two separate acts of terrorism, both against Taelons and using ID portals, in the space of three days? No, it had to be the same person.

But who could do this? Who had the power? If it had been a Resistance operation, either Doors or Renee—who often had her finger in even the radical splinter groups—would surely have heard something. And no one outside the Resistance should have possessed the knowledge to pull off two such attacks on the Taelons.

Whatever was going on, Doors felt powerless in its face. And he very much hated feeling powerless.


Zo'or sensed Doors' departure, but the human no longer concerned him. He would deal with the man, who may or may not have been telling the truth, later. Now, he needed to reflect.

Ni'ram was one of his strongest supporters in the Commonality. The loss of his presence, even temporarily, meant that Zo'or's was significantly weakened. To make matters worse, Zo'or had found himself unable to distribute throughout the Commonality the anger he had felt when informed of the incident. Instead, the feeling had continued to build until he feared it would overcome him. He had only realized when he was finally able to release his feelings into the Commonality how close he had come to completely losing control. Zo'or disliked strong emotion, and his inability to prevent the feeling had left him quite distraught.

And, once again, he found himself unable to tap into the Commonality.

Others could access the ethereal force connecting all Taelons together at will. Some humans even had the ability. But that skill had long been denied Zo'or. He had only realized recently that this was at least in part by design.

Stress was, for most Taelons, a foreign concept, as they always had the Commonality to fall back on. With Zo'or, this was not the case. In the efforts to save his species, he could feel himself slipping away from them, becoming...less Taelon. Which did nothing for his feelings of stress.

A message materialized in front of him, informing him that he was being contacted. Doing all he could to calm himself, he acknowledged the signal, and the image of a Taelon, this one wearing no mask to cover his natural state, appeared hovering in front of him. If Zo'or had not already been aware of the other's identity, he could have easily have determined this from the way he held his hands tightly behind his back.

Zo'or was not in the mood for pleasantries. Yes, T'than?

The other Taelon cocked his head in response to the apparent hostility in Zo'or's voice. Am I correct in my knowledge that Ni'ram is now close to death?

Zo'or said flatly.

And at the hands of a human? Without waiting for an answer, the Taelon War Minister pressed on. How could you allow this to occur, Zo'or?

As usual, T'than's attitude infuriated Zo'or. I took every precaution possible to prevent harm from coming to the Taelons on Earth.

It should be obvious by now, even to you, that these precautions are not sufficient! T'than insisted. Humans have now claimed more Taelon lives than any other species save the Jaridians! When do you intend to put an end to this?

My timetables are none of your concern.

T'than paused for a moment. Though he made no outward indication, Zo'or knew that his remark had angered the other Taelon. On the contrary, Zo'or, he said slowly, Your timetables are very much the concern of all Taelons. Especially since your ill-planned offensives have served to accelerate the Jaridians' attacks.

I am doing my best to defeat the Jaridians, Zo'or snapped. A short-term intensity in hostilities is inevitable.

As War Minister, T'than retorted, that is my decision. You have no authority in my affairs.

And you have no authority in mine.

T'than paused for a moment, and Zo'or could see the other's irritation at his remark. It is my duty to the Commonality, he said slowly, to ensure that your foolhardy direction of our people does not result in our annihilation. I shall be watching your actions carefully, Zo'or, so I suggest you do the same. The image faded, leaving Zo'or alone and seething.

T'than had been Zo'or's strongest opponent within the Commonality for a very long time. However, he had chosen not to challenge Zo'or for leadership of the Synod — due mostly, Zo'or believed, to Ni'ram's urging. In fact, T'than had been quiet even through Da'an's such challenge the previous year. Zo'or had been perfectly happy with this arrangement.

Zo'or stove to clear his thoughts. Yes, T'than's newfound voice could be a serious danger to Zo'or, At the moment, however, there were many more immediate and pressing dangers to deal with.


Sibley Memorial Hospital, Washington D.C.
13:56 EST

Ni'ram was suspended in a large tube filled with a translucent bluish fluid. The Taelon's human façade was gone, and the lines of energy intertwining across his body made reflections on the glass sides of the blue tank.' Even a human could tell by the dimness and slow progress of the energy veins across his body that the Taelon was in poor condition.

Da'an knew that he was barely alive.

Injury was almost a foreign concept to the Taelons, as their physiology had long since advanced beyond the point where they were susceptible to physical harm, as their bodies were primarily formed of energy. Any physical wound could usually be healed with psychic energy derived from the Commonality.

However, Ni'ram was in Sahmbaad, meaning he was unable to tap into the Commonality. The energy he needed had to come from another source. And there was not a facility in the world equipped to channel the type and amount of energy needed.

For a moment, Da'an considered channeling the energy from himself, but he knew that such a sharing when Ni'ram was in such a weakened state could possibly override the other's psyche, destroying the Taelon.

Very rarely had a Taelon been afflicted with such a condition. But of those that had, none had survived. It was a testament to human ingenuity that Ni'ram was alive at all.

Da'an turned to see his protector, Liam, staring at the neighboring tank, in which resided Commander Clarke, who had accompanied Ni'ram in the portal. Clarke's entire bone and muscle structure would have to be rebuilt, to say nothing of his mind. His chances of survival were, nonetheless, slightly better than the Taelon's.

The sight reminded Da'an of the last image he had seen of Clarke's predecessor.

We should return to the embassy, Liam, Da'an said.

Without speaking, Liam turned and led the way out of the hospital's intensive care ward, with Da'an closely behind. Da'an knew Liam well enough to tell that the sight had angered him, although the Taelon believed that he had never actually met Clarke. He assumed the man's reaction was simply a response to the near murder of a fellow human being, something he found equally curious as, by Taelon standards, Liam was not human. Having been conceived by the last member of an alien species called the Kimera, and, though his outward appearance would suggest otherwise, he carried all the genetic material necessary to be called a member of that species.

However, Da'an had been saddened to see that he did not consider himself in that manner. A few months earlier, he had asserted that, above all else, he was a human being, and clearly he wished to believe this. Not long ago, his shaqaravah—the only outward sign of his Kimera heritage—had disappeared, and Da'an could only assume that this was a result of Liam's intervention. He had never been particularly proud of the organs when they had surfaced. Da'an wondered if these simple incidents could actually be the symptoms of a much deeper self-loathing.

How do the Taelons respond to attempted murder? Liam asked coldly.

Such a concept is unthinkable to us, Da'an replied. That an evolved being would kill a member of his own species...it is a difficult concept to understand.

Some of us are more evolved than others, Liam muttered.

A swarm of reporters was waiting for them outside the hospital, each trying to get their question in for the North American Companion. Liam pushed through them towards their shuttle without saying a word. Da'an wished that for once, he could understand the man. If he was to be the future of their two species, such an understanding would be necessary.

But it did not seem to be forthcoming.


Taelon Mothership

He had gotten past Mothership security, all the Volunteers, and the most advanced computer safeguards in the solar system. He had sabotaged an interdimensional portal without anyone noticing. He had escaped without leaving a trace.

On the one hand, Sandoval was strongly beginning to respect whoever was behind this. On the other, he was furious. Every precaution he had placed had proven useless, and half of them had been designed for just such an eventuality. Whoever did this had known a lot more than just what he was doing.

A team of Volunteers was now crawling over the damaged portal with every sort of scanner he could imagine. Sandoval could only hope that, since this portal hadn't been vaporized, there was some evidence left this time.

But he didn't hold out much hope.

A young Volunteer lieutenant approached him cautiously. A-Agent Sandoval? she asked.

Yes, what is it? he snapped.

Well, sir...we checked the security database for any signs of tampering, and.... She was obviously very nervous.

But Sandoval wanted answers. he pressed.

Sir, there is evidence that the portal was accessed, just before the malfunction, she said haltingly. At first, we couldn't tell anything more than that, but when we checked the deep-code level.... she stopped again, inhaling deeply.

What did you find, Volunteer? Sandoval snapped, now very impatient.

We—we found out who accessed the portal, sir, but according to the records.... She took another deep breath. Sir, it was Zo'or.