Disclaimer: You probably know the drill by now, but just to be able to say that I did this…*ahem* yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda yadda… And then some. There! Enjoy! (pssst, and don't forget to REVIEW!)

Chapter 7: The Missive

            Leon Powalski left the Stocks in a cheerful mood, actually whistling a snatch of tune as he walked over to the sink to wash the blood off his hands. The soap and water mixed to make frothy pink patterns that ran down the drain and away. Everything was going well. Marvelously so, in fact. His latest 'guest' had been a wealth of information on many topics, but most important to the chameleon's mind was one small tidbit that most people would have overlooked as irrelevant. A name. A simple little name mentioned amid a flow of words wrenched from their owner's soul. This would make Andross happy, and move their plans along quite nicely. Still chuckling to himself he walked out of the torture chamber's anteroom and headed for Star Wolf's communal common room, his spirits high.

            When he entered his attention was immediately accosted by the sight of Andrew and Pigma huddled together by one of the large, paneled walls, peering down at something grasped in Pigma's large, grubby hands.

            "So what do we do with it?" Andrew asked in a loud, shrill voice.

            "What do you do with what?" Leon asked, walking over, and they both jumped. "What, exactly, are you two looking at?"

            Pigma scratched his nose and looked up at him. "Guess what we got?" he asked, and then immediately answered his own question. "A message from the Minuen Republic, can you believe that? What are those pathetic shmucks doin' writing us? An' what it says! What, do they think they're actually important, or somethin'?"

            "The Minuens," Leon echoed, and snatched the paper out of the pig's hand. "Let me see that!"  His eyes skipped across the page spasmodically, then backtracked for a second, more careful reading. Pigma kept on talking, oblivious.

            "I mean, come on! They're tryin' to tell us, the Venomians, what to do. When to attack, what strategy to use. Do they think they're so big?"

            "The Minuen Republic," Leon murmured to himself. "So they're a republic now." He seemed to become aware of Pigma's words for the first time and shook his head, tapping part of the letter. "No. You're missing the point, swine. They have a list here of Lylatian officers of high denomination who have been removed from duty. They have a spy ring, apparently. It shouldn't be too hard to verify this information with our own."

            "Yeah? So what?" Andrew asked, craning his neck to look at the missive. He gave a snickering laugh. "Removed from duty, huh? What's the matter, couldn't they handle the pressure?" He shook his head. "Buncha pansies."

            Leon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "The point being," he said slowly, articulating every word. "That if the Lylatians have lost so many people in such a short time, their infrastructure will be weakened, and a swift, forceful attack should crush them. That is no doubt why the Minuens saw fit to inform us of this frailty."

            "Well…well…" Pigma snuffled. The lizard waited for him to work it out, a half smile on his face. "Then we can kill them if we attack now?"

            "Precisely." Leon looked at the paper one more time, his expression unreadable, then abruptly folded it up again and handed it to Pigma. "But the information is probably false," he said dismissively. "We don't know why such a little republic," he sneered the word. "Would be helping us. Most likely it's some sort of trick."

            Pigma stared at the letter. "But…"

            Andrew beat him to the punch. "But if we can destroy the Lylatians, why don't we go for it?"

            Leon stared down his very long nose at him. This was quite a talent as the ape was several inches taller than he was. "I wouldn't expect your tiny, primate brain to understand."

            "No, he's right," Pigma argued. "I'm tellin' Wolf about this."

            Leon shrugged, unconcerned. "Fine. Be my guest."  He walked lazily over to one of the couches littering the walls and sat down as his two housemates hurried out. Idly he picked up a deck of cards and began dealing out a game of solitaire. Then he stopped in disgust, holding up the King of Clubs. There were large grease stains covering a good half of it that still glistened slimily in the light.

            "Oh, Pigma, you gigantic pig," he muttered. "Not that that's not being redundant. Maybe I'll just read until Wolf gets here in a tirade." He didn't have to. Just as he was dropping the playing card gingerly back on top of the others the door slammed open and Wolf O'Donnell burst into the room, flanked on either side by the disgusting duo.

            "Leon, why didn't you tell me about this?!" Wolf thundered, gesticulating wildly with the letter clutched in one fist. His right eye glinted with anger far beyond what was warranted and his ears twitched violently. Not many people would be brave enough to face the enraged O'Donnell, but Leon rose without a flinch.

            "I beg your pardon?" he asked smoothly. As always, his flawless poise seemed to throw Wolf for a loop, and the craze faded slightly from his eyes. He was still very angry, however.

            "This letter. From the Min…whoever they are. Pigma says he told you about it and you wanted to hide it from me!"

            This time the chameleon didn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Pigma told you that?" he asked. "And tell me, since when has Dengar been a reliable source of information? I mean, come on. He's a pig. I wasn't hiding anything from you."

            Wolf looked down at the letter in his hands, his expression flickering. Faint confusion vied with the anger on his face. Leon saw this and he smirked. "There are a few things about that letter I'd like to discuss…err, shall we say, away from the moronic crowd? If that's all right. No offense, but I can feel my IQ dropping every time I'm trapped in a room with these two for more than five minutes." He jerked a thumb at Pigma and Andrew.

            The wolf flicked his gaze to his entourage and curled his lips in a sneer. "I know exactly what you mean," he agreed. "Alright. Let's go." Anger completely forgotten he strode across the room and flung open one of the attaching doors. Throwing a snide look over his shoulder, Leon followed.

            Pigma stared after them in irritation. "Man, I hate being treated like an idiot."

            Andrew blinked up from cleaning his fingernails. "What?"

            ***

            Leon flicked his gaze around absently. Wolf's room was, as always, a complete and utter mess. Clothes were flung this way and that and the bed lay rumpled and unmade against the far wall. The lizard felt a faint disdainful sneer form on his face. He hated messes. Forcing it away again he picked his away across the room and cleared a chair off, sitting on it.

            "You've no doubt noticed a few things odd about our precious letter," he began the conversation.

            "Mm," Wolf agreed. "Why would these people send us anything when they barely know us and we don't like them."

            Leon shot him a startled look and sat up a little straighter. "Exactly, and…"

            "And how did they get their hands on this information? And why would they try to help us against the Cornerians when it gains them nothing to do so?"

            "Exactly," Leon agreed again, watching Wolf through half-slitted eyes. "I knew you'd pick up on that."

            Wolf started pacing, thinking aloud as he did so. "Well, as for the second question, it's obvious. They have an information network. They've been spying on us." He made a swift cutting gesture with one hand and a growl formed in his throat.

            "Which only makes sense," the chameleon pointed out. "If I were neighbor to two mighty nations at war, I'd make damn sure I knew what they were doing, too."

            The lupine nodded absently at this, conceding the point. His anger fled again. "But how does it gain them to help the 'mighty nation'?" he asked, parroting Leon's words. He turned to face the other.

            Leon considered for a moment. "They might be trying to cut a deal," he said thoughtfully. "Help us out with the information in exchange for leniency when we take over the Lylat System. They're only one solar system away, after all."

            "Why us and not the Cornerians, then?"

            "Oh Wolf, honestly. That's the most obvious answer of them all. They hate the Cornerians. Those so-called 'moral people' have been short changing the Minuens for years with their commerce agreements; demanding exorbitant fees for exports and flooding the Minuen economy with a surplus of imports so that local entrepreneurs can't catch a break. The Minuens are living in poverty because of the Cornerians. They wouldn't help them."

            Wolf was staring at him. "I didn't know all that," he said slowly. With a suspicious twinge he added, "Why do you?"

            The chameleon stared at him for a moment, and then gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh. Politics is something of a hobby of mine. I've read up on all the surrounding area's situations. The point is that they probably would be willing to help us just to spite the Cornerians. Their motive really isn't as mysterious as we thought it was. I think this plan will work. We should show the letter to Andross and push for an early invasion. It would be the most expedient way to get the battles started." He added this last with a sly look at his commander. Everyone knew how much the wolf loved getting in the middle of a slaughter.

            Wolf stared at him for a moment more. Then his gaze fell to the paper in his hands. Once again he seemed to have forgotten his thoughts of a moment before in favor of the new ones Leon had fed him. "That would be good," he agreed. "It would mean abandoning our current plot," he added, frowning..

            "It would. But if it works it will be much faster. Years faster."

            The lupine thought about that pensively for a moment, and then nodded. "All right, then. I'll inform Dr. Andross and convince him to change our plans."

            "Do you think you'll be able to?"

            "Yes," he answered shortly. "Definitely. Andross is as impatient as the rest of us with how slow things are going."

            Leon nodded and stood up. "Good." He glanced down briefly, and then frowned, touching the front of his shirt with a ginger hand. There was blood drying on it, dark maroon splotches streaking the fabric. "Oh. Disgusting. I think while you're doing that I'll be changing my clothes."

            Wolf observed the other's revulsion with amusement. "You were 'working' this morning, I take it."

            "Yes. It's quite fun, but unfortunately it does do a number on one's wardrobe. If you'll excuse me." Shaking his head and being very careful not to touch his shirt again, Leon left the room.

            Wolf glanced at the letter, and then he also left.

            ***

            Plans were made, strategies organized, and troops informed. By nightfall everything was set. The Androssians were mobilizing. But inside the elite barracks something odd was happening. A grey shadow stalked through the dimly lit steel halls. It slipped out of the Star Wolf common room and scuttled along passageways as dim as it was, traveling at last to an abandoned control room that had been left bereft by its owner in the sudden bustle. The door clicked shut and was locked from the inside.

            Leon Powalski pushed down the hood of his nondescript jacket and smiled slightly, holding one arm to look at it. The skin glistened in the muted overhead lighting, a shady slate. "Ah, the life of a chameleon," he murmured to himself. "It makes getting around…so much easier."  Still smirking, he stepped over to one of the massive computers that made a row along one whole wall of the control room, and bent over it, punching in some numbers. The machine emitted a faint buzzing sound, and then a click. Satisfied that his conversation would remain private, the lizard turned on the videophone built into it and dialed.

            Someone answered. The picture that appeared on the foot square-screen was of a banded tabby cat wearing a guard's uniform. "Minuen State Security offices," he said in a bored tone. "This is Zawkmed speaking. How may I help you?"

            "Oh. They changed the offices," Leon sighed and stepped closer, making himself visible to the built in camera in the phone. "Yes. Hello. I was trying to get in touch with someone with some degree of power." He let his natural disdain creep into his voice. "Not a guard."

            Zawkmed heard it and his manner became more brisk. "Well, I'm afraid you'll have to deal with me. What is your complaint, sir?"

            "I don't have a complaint. I have a proposition." Leon leaned forward, a haughty twitch on his lips. "I am Leon Powalski, Second in Command of the Star Wolf elite fighting team. I work," he added lazily. "For the Androssians."

            The cat's eyes widened. "The Androssians," he said incredulously, and not a little breathlessly. "Why are you calling here?"

            "I told you that. I want to talk to someone in a position of power about the…shall we say, 'suggestion' that you people sent to us?"

            Zawkmed stared at him blankly. "Suggestion?"

            The disdain grew more pronounced, and with it the sarcasm. "Oh. I'm sorry. I thought you actually knew something. I didn't realize you were just a pointless stooge. Can I possibly talk to someone who does have a clue as to what's going on? Tell whoever it is who's in charge over there who I am…and who I work for. I'm sure they'll be glad to take the call then."

            There was a pause. The security guard nodded. "Alright. What did you say your name was again? Powalski? I'll let them know. Stay on the line." The screen dissolved into static and a faint tinny music drifted through the speakers. He was on hold. Leon rolled his eyes and sat back, crossing his arms. This could take awhile.

            About ten tedious, music filled minutes later the phone screen flickered to life again. This time the visage that greeted his eyes was of a distinguished bobcat in a rumpled business suit and tie. He looked tired. He eyed Leon sharply, however, and his mouth was set in a thin line.

            "Mr. Powalski," he said, and was unable or unwilling to hide the distaste in his voice. "To what do I owe this distinct…honor."

            "That depends," Leon replied coolly. "Who am I talking to?"

            The bobcat drew himself up slightly. "I am Warren Slater," he said formally. "Elected President of the Minuen Republic."

            "Really. President, eh? Well, that's different."

            "Quite," Warren agreed curtly. "I'm sure it is very different from the last time you had contact here." The lizard smiled thinly in acknowledgement of the riposte, his eyes glittering coldly. The other went on. "Now if you'll forgive me for being brusque, what, precisely, do you want?"

             Leon made a sharp motion with one hand. "Oh come on, Slater, we both know what's going on here. Sending that letter? How stupid do you think I am? You might be able to pass yourselves off as the pathetic, weakling kingdom to everybody else in this solar system, but I know how…tricky you people really are. You're not just helping us out of the goodness of your hearts, and hoping we'll extend a hand to you later. You're planning something."

            "I was not aware that you had made connections with the Androssians."

            "No," Leon agreed, amused. "I imagine not. I could warn them, you know. I haven't yet, but it would be a simple matter to do so. And then your house of cards would fall like so much fluttering paper."

            He wasn't sure, but he thought Warren started sweating. It was very dim lighting. "I see," he said. "And what would it take to convince you not to do that? If you want your pronouncement of banishment to be lifted…" he stopped to think. "No. I'm not sure I can do that. The things you did…" Warren shook his head. "I'm trying to build a better nation for my people. There's no place for people like you in a such a world." The words people like you were twisted and harsh sounding. Leon, however, waved him off.

            "Don't bother. I rather like the Lylat system better. But the question is, will I still like it once the Minuens have taken over? That is what you're planning, isn't it? Set both sides against each other, and then move in to sweep up the pieces?"

            Warren gazed at him for a long moment. "My plans are none of your concern," he said finally. The bobcat's ears were low on his head, but he seemed to be rallying some composure. He spoke again. "Even if you were to speak you suspicions to your superiors, there is no guarantee that they would believe you. And how would you go about doing it? Would you first explain that you know us so very well because you were a member of our society? Would you account, in detail, how you were discovered, and banished, for crimes so atrocious that I will not even speak them aloud? Will you tell them what those crimes were? Tell me, how justly would they think your motives then?" Warren sat back satisfied. "You can't say a word."

            "You'd be surprised," Leon said. "You don't know the people I work with. They might just applaud my, how did you put it, 'atrocious crimes'. But you seem to have gotten the idea somehow that I was threatening you. I assure you, that was not the case. Or not just the case. As I said to your lackey before, I have a proposition for you."

            "Indeed? Well, let's hear it then."

            "If I am correct, you plan on allowing the Androssians and Cornerians on destroying each other, true? But I'm telling you now that that won't happen. We are…too strong. The troops have absolute, almost fanatical, loyalty to Andross and everything he represents. As long as he's around the army will keep marching; the Androssians will stand."

            "What's your point?"

            Leon leaned close to the phone and smirked at the picture of Warren. The bobcat was wary, but listening. "If you swear me immunity, and grant certain luxuries and privileges when you take over," he said. "I will give you Andross's head."

            ***

            The computer beeped attention, signaling that its search was at an end. Text appeared on its flat screen in the form of old newspaper clippings, pictures and headlines springing to life. Alec Secorski turned away from the form he had been filling out and eagerly leaned over the keyboard.

            "Hm," he muttered. "No help there." He pressed a few buttons and another window opened up, showing a different newspaper clipping. He shook his head disappointedly. "Stocks… Damn it." The search was proving to be a frustrating one, but the serval continued with a desperate determination. "Man. What, was he a priest in his early years or something? He had to have done something wrong."  Yet another page appeared. The headline boldly announced Warren Slater for President: A Step in the Right Direction. Alec leaned forward and read:

"Warren Slater, one of the main revolutionist party leaders, was yesterday appointed President of Minua after his key role in the deposition of our former leader, Douglass Carrington. Carrington, as many know, was one of the worst tyrannical dictators in all Minuen history. His atrocious disciplinary programs and power grubbing policies shot fear into the hearts of the citizens and plunged our nation's already shaky economy on the fast track to meltdown. With his arrest and subsequent sentencing a new order was established and Slater was universally voted into office out of gratitude for bringing this criminal to justice…Man, who wrote this thing? It sounds like a prelude to a Superman comic." He sighed and scrolled down the screen. "Come on. There's got to be something in here. Marcus, where are you?" He saw the name he was looking for and stopped scrolling. "Marcus Cade. Now, where are we… Slater had the help, of course, of many of his fellow party members. Joseph Hawkings, Alec Secorski…Oh, I actually get a mention, you mean? …and Marcus Cade were three of his main supporters during the revolution and two of these men work for him still in advisory positions. Hawkings, unfortunately…yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. He got shot in the fighting. Who cares? He was an asshole anyway." His eyes traveled back to the previous sentence. "Not a word on that conniving panther anywhere except to say he was there. Dammit, there's GOT to be something! I'll frame him if I have to. ANYTHING to get rid of him."

            There was an imperious knock on the door and a second later it slammed open. Alec scrambled to shut down his computer before the unwanted interloper could see the documents it showed. "WHAT?!" he bellowed, twisting around with catlike reflexes. Doctor Bellec stood in the doorway, staring at the other's blank monitor screen with his mouth twisted, as if gazing at it could reveal what the serval was hiding.

            "Can't you knock?!" Alec snapped reflexively, and then stopped himself. Don't act suspicious. If he were going to frame someone it wouldn't do to give himself away. With great difficulty Alec managed to reign in his temper. "What did you want?" he grated out, barely keeping an even voice.

            Zachariah swung his gaze away from the computer at last and stared through his large, coke-bottle glasses. "Zere's a problem with ze machine," he said shortly. "I vent to Slater's office, but that airhead of a secretary said he vasn't in."

            The other scrubbed a hand across his face, suddenly tired. "No. He's out on an inspection of something or other. The I-83, I think."

            The weasel snorted disgust at all things military, but otherwise made no reply.

            Alec paused, and then said, "I could let him know you'd been by. 'Course that would mean that you'd have to leave…"

            "No. Zere may be no time. Or less time zan I had originally thought. I don't know. You must come." He raised his long eyebrows. "Now."

            The serval blinked at him, sent one wayward glance over his shoulder to the darkened computer, and then nodded. "Alright," he said, and with a great sigh stood up.

            The short fisher-cat led him out of his office and down the elevator to the ground floor. They left the capitol building and struck off through the city in what Alec was disgusted to note was a drizzling rain. Luckily, it didn't take long to get to Bellec's laboratory. It was a squat square building that, despite the weasel's slim physique, seemed to match its owner exactly. Zachariah took no notice of the rain, but simply hurried through the low doorway, the sodden cat trailing after him.

            "You could have at least warned me it was raining," Alec said in a disgruntled tone.

            Bellec glanced around at him without slowing his stride. "Zere vas no time. Hurry up." He disappeared through another doorway.

            Alec stared after him disbelievingly. "There was no time to tell me it was raining?! I don't believe this guy." Shaking his head, he followed.

            Two steps past the threshold he stopped dead. This was unmistakably the doctor's main working space. A huge square box of metal took up one whole wall of space, beeping reminder of its existence every three seconds or so, as if anyone could miss it. Screens built into its side flashed pictures at the unwary viewer, boggling the mind, or scrolled numbers down their surfaces at high speeds. Though this monolith drew the eye at once, the rest of the room was certainly not bare. Other machines, as well as things that could only be described as 'gizmos', were scattered throughout the space, littering the walls, and propping up against each other on the floor haphazardly. The overall effect was that the room was separated into squares, with only a few walkways of uncluttered space allowing free movement. But that wasn't what the serval was glaring at so fixedly. Marcus Cade was standing in what was roughly equivalent to the center of the room, examining one of the metal monstrosities with placid interest. He looked up with a pleasant smile as they entered.

            "Hello," he said mildly.

            If he was trying to win Alec over with politeness, he was fighting a losing battle. "What are you doing here?!" the other said rudely.

            The panther blinked in faint astonishment. "Beg pardon?"

            "What are you doing here?" Alec demanded again, slitting suspicious eyes. "Making the rounds?"

            Marcus shook his head, glanced at Bellec, and then looked back at the serval. "Doctor Bellec asked me to come," he said. "Something about a glitch with the Erida Device."

            "Oh, and he just happened to run into you in the hallway, I suppose."

            "As a matter of fact, yes."

            "That's funny. Why didn't he mention it to me, then?"

            "Zere vas no time," the weasel spoke up, thrusting himself into the conversation. "I did run into zis stooge before, and zen vent to find Slater."

            "You see?" Marcus said soothingly to Alec. "You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. I don't think being wet agrees with you."

            Alec ignored the half-amused comment with a snide air. It was obvious the panther had scored a point. He started to walk forward stiffly. Then he paused. "When did it start raining?" he asked.

            The other two exchanged glances. Bellec shrugged. "About an hour ago. Vhy? Are you taking barometer measurements now? You talk of unimportant zings.  Vhat is important is zis!" He turned and threaded his way through his instruments to the large square machine at the side, jabbing a finger at one of the flashing screens. Both cats picked their way over to join him. They looked at the screen. Bellec looked at the screen. Silence reigned for a long moment.

            Alec spoke up first. His brow was deeply furrowed. "Um…just out of curiosity's sake, what are we looking at?" To him the picture seemed a jumbled mess of lines. They spiked around one another in a shameful disregard for order, and occasionally spasmed out of sight entirely. They reminded him of the room he was in, or perhaps of the nonconformist little man beside him.             

            Dr. Bellec seemed to think the question foolishly obvious. "Zat. Zat!" he exclaimed and gestured violently towards the lines on the lighted surface. Alec stared at them again, but they still simply looked like a mathematician's nightmare to his eyes.

            "What I think Alec means is what do they stand for," Marcus clarified. He sounded like an interested spectator trying to soothe two quarreling fools. Alec shot a sizzling glare at him.

            "Did I ask you to translate?"

            "No," Marcus said, completely unperturbed by the other's scathing tone.

            "Then don't."

            "Vhat it means is zat the device is acting abnormally. You see zis, here?" The weasel pointed at one of the lines that disappeared. "Zey are not supposed to do zat. Zis is a power readout of Erida's influence. She should not be doing so much so quickly."

            Marcus bit his lip and frowned down at the screen. "What do you mean? What's the problem?" He quirked an eyebrow. "If the machine is 'working overtime', as it were, wouldn't that just mean that the Lylatians would be affected more quickly?"

            "Yes. So you see the problem."

            "Ah…I'm afraid not. Why is that a bad thing?"

            Bellec rolled his eyes. "Moron," he muttered under his breath. He looked at Marcus with the air of someone explaining something very simple, and spoke. "For two reasons. Firstly, It vill effect the Lylatians more quickly, true, making zem more aggressive and less able to function effectively. But zis vill only happen to those who are nearby ze X nebula, for zey will be ze ones absorbing Erida's rays. Ze planets that are closest, vhat are they called…"

            "Fortuna and Katina," Alec murmured. "And Titania." He received a glare for his trouble as the fishercat went on.

            "…vill be ze main recipients. But the machine vill not affect ze Androssians at all. Zey are too far away at zis time."

            "Oh, I get it," Alec broke in again. He straightened unconsciously as the connotations of the lecture struck. "So the Cornerians will be wounded, but the Androssians won't…and we sent a letter telling them to attack." He shook his head. "All we've done is won the war for them. Terrific. Instead of having bad neighbors we'll have terrible neighbors."

            Marcus rolled his eyes. "Alec, relax. It isn't as serious as all that yet. Go on, doctor."

            Bellec shot a sneer at the serval. "Zank you. But your offensive friend is right. As zings stand now zere is an imbalance. Ze plan vas to hurt both sides and become ze most dominant force, but zat has not happened."

            The panther frowned, still thinking. "Why did this happen?" he asked.

            "Ze nebula's gravity. It is so strong it is almost a black hole. Ze machine is collapsing in on herself more quickly zan we had planned. Zat is ze second problem. It vill probably be around for only a few more days."

            Alec shook his head. "That's it. The plan's a flop. I knew it! I knew it wouldn't work. I've been saying from the beginning that it wouldn't work." He made a disgusted noise. "All this time and effort spent for nothing. And on top of it all, now we have to figure out a way of STOPPING the Androssians from attacking, before they invade and make everything worse."

            The panther was shaking his head. "It's not as bad as all that…"

            "Not as bad as all that!" the other repeated heatedly. "You bet it is! Everything's crashing down around our ears, just because your good doctor couldn't get his part right. Freak," he added for good measure, glancing at Bellec. The weasel narrowed his eyes and pinned his ears back, but didn't say anything.

            Marcus raised a hand. "Listen to me! Everything is not ruined. We can still get around this."

            "Yeah? How? We're no match for the Venomian Army. You know that. That's why we were using that stupid machine in the first place."

            "I know, but we still have our wits." The panther shook his head, dismissive. "Your problem, Alec, is that you think in straight lines. The Venomians don't know anything. We're leading them around by the nose. We can manipulate them into losing."

            The serval snorted. "And your problem, Cade, is that you think too much in circles. How can we manipulate them? They don't know us. We can only send so many anonymous messages."

            "We can work it out," Marcus insisted. "We've gone too far to be able to scrap everything, now."

            "I disagree."

            "Gentlemen," Zachariah cut in. "As fascinating as your pointless bickering is, I vould really prefer it to happen outside my laboratory. You are giving me a headache. And some of you…" He shot a sizzling glare at Alec. "…dumb down a place by zeir mere presence. Keep ze plan, scrap ze plan; it makes no difference to me."

            Marcus caught Alec's eyes. "It's Warren's decision," he said quietly. "We should settle this in front of him."

            The serval nodded slowly, still angry. "You bet we will."

            ***

            Warren opened the door to his dark office and treaded heavily inside, sitting down with a thump in his chair. "There's always something," he said to himself. The bobcat swiveled around to look out the large window behind his desk, once again surveying the planets he was responsible for. Malenkee and Bolshoi floated in the night, twin planets as opposite in color and environment as they were parallel in inhospitality. They glittered in the starlight like two forsaken jewels.

            A knock came at the door, and Warren let out a deep sigh. "Come in," he called. It was time to go back to the grindstone. He heard the sound of the door open and shut, and turned to see who it was. Then he blinked. "Alec?"

            The serval nodded, subdued, and then frowned at the look of amazement on the other's face. "Yeah. What?"

            "You knocked."

            The blonde glanced at the floor and shuffled his feet. Warren could almost swear he was blushing. "Yeah, well. I finally realized how annoying that was."

            "Amazing." The bobcat straightened, ready for whatever new problem his aide had to dish out, but none came. The serval walked forward silently, not bothering to turn on a light, and came to a stop before the great windows. He stared out quietly for a moment, deep in contemplation.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" he said at last.

Warren turned and once again studied the planets. "Yes, they are."

Alec sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Do you ever remember why we're doing this?" he asked. "I mean, why us?"

"There was no one else."

"I know. But we've changed." He walked over to the desk and perched on it, looking the other frankly in the eyes. "The job's changed us."

Warren nodded slowly. "I know." He paused, and then smiled slightly, lost in memories. "There was a time when we were ready to take on the world."

"And freely did so," Alec agreed, also smiling. "Dictator government? Pfhh. Too easy. We were going to solve all our people's woes. You and me against the world."

"Mmm," Warren agreed. "The very best of friends." The smile slipped off his face, and when he spoke again a heaviness had entered his voice. "But that is why we are doing this."

"What, because we were the best of friends?" Alec quipped.

"All our people's woes," the bobcat said, ignoring the joke. "I still believe the ideal, Alec. It is my duty to do everything I can to lift the sorrow, to make a better world in which our children can grow up."

"Yeah. That's an ideal, alright."

Warren gazed at him sharply. "You believed in it too, once."

Alec sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "True," he agreed. "And I still do. In theory. But in practice…the concept loses much of its glamour."

"The burden of responsibility grows harder to bear every day," Warren agreed.

"Right. And what if we can't deliver? What will the people think of their great saviors then? We'll have failed them." He stared off into space. "We have failed them."

"Nonsense. Don't be so gloomy, my friend. It's not like you." Warren paused and smiled. "Actually, it's far too like you. You always were a pessimist. We haven't failed anything yet. The Erida plan will work, and we will be able to give them everything the lush Lylat System has to offer."

Alec shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "We won't." He closed his eyes for a moment, sorrow shading his face. "Where have you been?" he asked without opening them.

Warren had been staring at him curiously, wondering about that last comment. Now he made a disgusted noise and sat back in his chair, folding his hands over each other. "I went to inspect the I-83," he said. "The power main on the prototype failed. It's repaired now, thankfully, and she's ready to fly, but it's the reason that disgusts me. The tech people tell me it was sabotage. I've had to assign a guard to it twenty-four seven." The bobcat stared at his hands in consternation. "I simply don't believe that one of our own people would stoop to such a thing."

"Sabotage?" Alec's eyes had popped open and he stared at the other with something akin to horror. Then they narrowed to slits. "Marcus," he hissed.

"Marcus," Warren said, startled. "Whatever are you talking about?"

"Of course. He must have…to get you out of the way. I KNEW he had been there too long!"

"Alec," Warren said patiently. "Will you kindly explain yourself?"

Alec turned to face him more fully. His face wore an excited look that bordered on the fanatical. "Look," he said. "I know you won't want to believe me, because you think Marcus hung the stars in the sky, but you have to trust me on this. Marcus is the one who cannot be trusted here." The bobcat opened his mouth to reply and the other waved him off, still talking. "Look. When Bellec strong-armed me to his lab Marcus was already there, waiting. Now he said The Weirdo met him in the hallway and told him to come, but then how did he know where The Weirdo's lab was? And it was raining, for an hour at least they said, and yet Marcus's fur was completely dry. There's no WAY he got there just before I did. He's probably paying Bellec off to give him information first, and who knows what else. And THAT means we can't trust anything Bellec says either, 'cause Marcus could have told him to lie. That conniving little panther must have sabotaged the I-83 himself to get you out of the way long enough to out-argue me." He paused and shook his head. "He knew, given time to prepare, he could convince you of everything. He's done it often enough. My opinion counts for shit when he's talking to you. But he was afraid that if we both found out about the problem at the same time there'd be enough common sense in the room to cancel the plan. DAMMIT!"

Warren had gone stiff. "Are you quite finished?" He inquired coldly.

Alec blinked at him in realization. "Oh, come on, Warren. You've got to believe me!"

"Believe you? Based on a crock of circumstantial evidence and a hatred that's gone back to the very day Marcus joined our cause?" He shook his head. "I can't believe you would take your jealousy this far."

"Hey, come on. I'm not making this up…"

"I don't doubt that in your own mind you are not. But that doesn't make it true." Warren's golden eyes were narrowed and harsh. "You've gone so far into your shell of bitterness that I hardly even recognize you anymore. Marcus has done nothing, except be a true and loyal friend. Get over it."

"Warren…"
            "No. Get out of my office. And for God's sake, Alec, try to gain a little perspective." Warren stared at him for a second longer, and then resolutely turned away.

Alec stood there, silently fuming. He whirled, fists clenched, and stalked towards the door. Before he could reach it, however, someone knocked. The serval grabbed the handle and slammed it open. "What?!"

Marcus Cade stepped into the room, smiling slightly. "I hope I didn't come at a bad time," he said, shrugging an apology.

"Warren swiveled back around, forcing a smile. "No. Of course not," he emphasized. "Your presence is always welcome. Is there something you needed to bring to my attention?" The bobcat motioned his chin firmly at Alec, gesturing at the door. The serval just stood there, however, with his arms crossed, seething umber eyes locked fixedly on the panther.

Marcus glanced at him and the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Oh, I'm surprised Alec didn't tell you. It IS a rather urgent matter of state, after all. But perhaps he had more important things on his mind."

Warren frowned. "What's urgent?"

"There's a problem with the Erida Machine," Marcus informed him. "Doctor Bellec insists that it is acting too swiftly, the net result being that the Cornerians are being affected and the Androssians are not." That said, he waited, watching as the implications sunk in.

They did and the bobcat swore loudly. "This could ruin everything," he said. As an afterthought he added. "And no. Alec didn't mention this. It must have slipped his mind among…other concerns." Once again he looked at the serval, and then pointedly at the door. The other continued to ignore it.

"Perhaps," Marcus said, bringing Warren's mind back to the problem. "But I think we still have a good chance of pulling this off. We just have to find some way of ensuring the Androssians' defeat. Or weakening, rather. It doesn't really matter which side wins as long as they're both too hurt to defend against us."

"And do you have any ideas of how to go about ensuring this?"

"I think I may. I…"

Yet another knock sounded on the door. A moment later it opened a crack, and a tabby cat stuck his capped head in. "Excuse me, sir…ah, sirs," he said, noticing the other two. "But I have a call in my office that sounds quite urgent. He's demanding to speak to you, sir," he said to Warren. "Leon Powalski by name."

"Powalski," Warren murmured, sitting forward. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"I've heard it too," Alec said thoughtfully, ignoring the glare his speaking evoked. "Look it up, why don't you?"

Warren stared at him quellingly a moment longer, but as the serval looked evenly back at him and refused to be quelled, he at last dropped his gaze. "That's an idea," he admitted and leaned over his keyboard, tapping a few keys. The machine hummed for a moment, thinking, and then displayed its results. The bobcat's eyes widened. "He worked under Carrington," he reported to the room at large. "Politician. But he volunteered his services as a pilot on many of that rat's disciplinary 'purges'. Claimed he liked the thrill."

"Of killing people?" Alec said incredulously.

Warren ignored him and read on. "He was finally banished from the solar system on pain of death when…God." He shook his head. "Mr. Powalski had been kidnapping people off the streets and torturing them to death in his basement. Apparently for the thrill," he added, his mouth twisting. "Not even Carrington would put up with him after that." He looked at the security guard. "Do I want to talk to this person, Zawkmed?"

The tabby shifted uneasily. "I don't know, sir. All I know is that he claims he works for the Androssians now."

"The Androssians!" Warren looked down at the computer screen in front of him in absolute disgust, and then shook his head. "I can't afford not to. I'm coming." He stood up and left the room, following Zawkmed out without a glance at either of his two main aides.

Silence reigned uncomfortably in the room for a long moment. Alec surveyed Marcus closely over his crossed arms. Finally he broke the silence. "You bribed The Weirdo, didn't you?" he said in an accusing voice. "He's your eyes and ears. Let's you know things before us, doesn't he?" The other didn't answer and Alec snorted. "Yeah. That's what I thought. I've got your number, Cade."

"Do you?" Marcus said mildly. Then he whirled and grabbed the serval by the shirt, shoving him hard against the wall. "Do you really?" The panther's face was contorted with anger now, a snarl distorting the features. "Now listen to me, you little insect. You don't know anything, you understand? You haven't the least idea of who you're messing with."

Alec's eyes were huge and disbelieving, and he panted for his voice. "Wh…what?"

Marcus let up his grip for a second, only to slam the other hard against the wall again and hold the slighter cat there with all his strength. Alec gasped in pain and winced as muscles seemed to bruise all over his body.

"Yeah, that's right," the panther said forbiddingly. "Now I'm going to make this painfully clear." Another shove. "Stay out of my business or you won't like what happens. Remember, accidents happen to everyone."

From outside the muffled sound of Warren's voice floated to their ears and Marcus let go of him, crossing the room to stand innocently to one side. Alec scrambled to his feet just as Slater opened the door and walked into the room, practically bouncing.

"You'll never guess what that was about," he said joyously, missing the tension in the space completely in his bliss. "Powalski is willing to sell out the Androssians utterly if we provide for him once the Lylat System is ours." He paused, thinking. "Although I can't say I think much of his ethics. And I have this vague feeling I have made a pact with the devil…" he shrugged it off. "Ah, well. It solves our very dangerous problem, at any rate. He'll topple the Androssian momentum from within and we don't have to worry about the Erida machine's malfunction. Gentlemen, we have salvaged the day."

"That's wonderful," Marcus said, beaming.

Alec stared at him incredulously. There was no sign now of the monster that had so briefly been revealed to him. Marcus was once again the soul of courtesy and amiability, just as before. Not even a flicker of the rage that had shortly engulfed him showed on his face.

"But…" the serval stammered.

"Yes, quite," Warren agreed with Marcus. "That is a load off my mind." He glanced at the computer, and then quite distinctly shut it down, wiping Leon's past from its screen. "Now if you will both excuse me, gentlemen, I have much I have to do." He looked wryly at Alec as he said this, acknowledging the other's earlier reluctance to leave.

"Of course, Mr. Slater," Marcus agreed courteously. A smug smile appeared on his face as he stepped past the serval on the way to the door, meant for Alec's eyes only. The door clicked shut behind him.

Warren smiled good-naturedly. "Please, Alec. I know you value my company, but I really do have work to do." In light of the good news he seemed willing to forget their earlier argument.

Alec was still staring after the panther. He turned back around and looked at his long-time friend. "Warren, Marcus just threatened to kill me," he said in a low voice.

Warren stopped smiling. "Don't start this again."

"No. He…"

"Alec! Don't."

The serval stared at the bobcat for a second. It was clear that he wasn't going to be believed. He turned and walked out.

But as he padded to his own office slowly, one sentence kept repeating itself in his head. Remember, accidents happen to everyone. Alec felt a sinking sensation in his gut. Frustrated helplessness twined with impotent anger and a cold chill of fear. Under the circumstances only one thing summed up his thoughts.

"Holy…shit."

            ***

Okie-day! Another chapter finished. Lest we forget all those who died during the making of this story, flowers will be placed on the tombstones of those who truly deserve it (the ones who lent us money). Drinks and other refreshments (no matter how stale) will be served in the deserted barn behind the mayor's house. If he wakes up screaming at you, and fires his 45 shot gun at you… We are not liable. Thank you, and have a great weekend. Oh yeah! Almost forgot the point!… REVIEW! Thanks, you're so nice!