AN: If any of you are wondering how to pronounce Psyche: (Si-key).

Disclaimer: I've made up names in here of clubs, places, hotels and stuff. I live in Oz so I really don't know distances, names of things so don't sue if I get things wrong. Plus, I kinda don't know distances from place to place. I got most of the place names from a very big, very old atlas. Not too brill...

Psyche zoomed down the highway, her long red hair shining in the sunlight. She'd taken her red Mercedes out of storage and juiced it up, specifically for this mission. She hadn't used it since her last 'paid' expedition.

Her first day had started off around lunchtime when she left Foggle Towers. Max and Alec had twice as far than her to go to get to Elsmere. So Logan had given her a fake credit card with unlimited funds. She had her shopping spree all set out. First stop, Portland.

It had taken her and Max ages to finally convince Alec to go with Max to Elsmere, even when he was holding the vase Logan promised him in his hand.

Earlier

"What if I don't come back?" He questioned, examining the vase in his hands. 'Could we be so lucky?' Psyche thought. "What if I die? What if I get captured? What if..."

"...I kill you here and now and save us all the trouble?" Max interjected, snatching the vase from his hands. He quickly snatched it back.

"Nah, it's cool. I'll go." He grinned, placing the vase up onto the top of a cupboard. "I'll grab that when I get back."

Max punched him on the shoulder as the three transgenics followed Logan into his computer room for the final low down on the trip. Psyche perched herself on the desk next to Logan's computer, Max stood as far away as she could from Logan and Alec yawned widely as he leaned in the doorway to the lounge room.

"Now Psyche, you're going into the Sutcliffe base as Myra Franks, a high profile doctor working with genetics splicing for the X-10s." Logan passed Psyche a stack of papers and I.D. cards which she looked through. He then passed her a red disk. "This disk with connect to my computer here. All you have to do is insert it into any computer that connects into the mainframe complex and it will transmit back to me."

Logan then explained to her the logistics of the disk and how it transmitted but she tuned out, preferring the physical to the technical on a mission.

"Where'd you get it?" She asked, fingering the disk. Logan grinned sheepishly.

"One of the Manticorian escapees, Joshua..."

"A friend of mine." Piped in Max.

"Joshua has a few friends, including a super computer enhanced transgenic. He was rather helpful." He swivelled in his chair and passed Alec and Max another bundle of papers with I.D.s.

"Wait a minute," Psyche interrupted, "I don't know anything about genetic splicing, how am I gonna pull this off?"

"Newbie." Alec muttered, going into the lounge room.

"Don't worry bout him." Max told her, going through her papers and producing two pieces of paper that Psyche speed read. "You go in, get a tour of the facility, get your own office and your own computer."

"Connected to the mainframe I'm guessing." Psyche added, intrigued as to how Logan could have gotten her a job at Manticore, let alone access to a Manticore computer. "Then I skedaddle?"

"Good girl." Alec called from the lounge room. Psyche rolled her eyes and went over the plans again to make sure she didn't leave anything out.

~~~

452 laid in bed, the dark fuzz on her head and dark skin stood out starkly against the white pillow. 501 lay quietly on her bed, opposite hers. An hour ago she had felt pain in her left foot and she had just got back from an extensive poking and prodding and needle stabbing by the doctors of Manticore, overseen by Colonel Lydecker. According to Doctor James, her spinal cord was repaired, all she needed was a few more hours rest and she'd be as good as new.

"Are you ok?" 501 was startled. She turned her head to see 452 standing beside her bed. 501 cleared her throat and strained her ears to hear if anyone was close. 452 smiled and made a sign with her hands. "I already checked."

"I'm fine. Hundred percent operational in five hours. 452, um Mam?" Uncertain what to call 452, although she knew 452 was her superior, she also knew that 452 was only five years older than herself.

"Don't call me Mam." 452 answered, perching herself on the end of 501's bed. "Call me Max, that's what my squad calls me."

"Max?" 501 asked, her brow creasing in confusion. "But names aren't...I mean...we have designations. I'm 3302569417501. X-6 501."

"And I'm 3821384127452. Aka X-5 452. But to my squad, to my friends I'm Max." Max slid closer to 501. "599 is Zack, our CO, our SIC 739 is Tinga, Jace..."

"Stop." 501 cried. "Leave me alone. I don't want a name. Lydecker wouldn't approve. He doesn't think names are useful in helping us acquiring our goals. To help us become soldiers."

"But, I'm only trying to help." Max said, creeping back to the bottom of the bed. "I thought you'd like a name too. I thought you were different."

"Please go away." 501 said, closing her eyes.

Max continued earnestly. "We're both the babies of our series, I'm five months younger than anyone else and..."

"Please go away." 501 repeated. Max sighed and left 501 to feel her pain in silence.

~~~

As the sun started to go down on Psyche's first day on the road, she looked for a club in Portland. She'd already secured the presidential suite at the 'Holtz' and had dressed ready for a night out on the town. Her dark auburn hair hung out, down past her waist to the small of her back in waves. Black leather pants hugged her thighs and bum, coming to flared ends way past her toes. Chunky knee high boots and a long, flared sleeve, dark emerald top baring her mid-rift topped off her ensemble as she hit the town searching for a club.

Flashing neon lights screaming 'koola' caught her eye as did the line up out the front. 'Just my kinda party' she thought, heading straight towards the bouncers out the front. A tall, good looking guy with blonde hair she knew was gay. Or at least bi, she could smell all sorts of things on him. The other guy, short, stocky and older was darting his eyes around, arms crossed and cranky looking.

She watched for a second as two equally strange looking, mini skirt wearing, stiletto stumbling, blonde (not natural, she could see the roots) bimbos walked up to the bouncers and whispered in the shorter man's ears a code to get in the club. Psyche then walked up to the bouncers.

"Hi." She flashed a smile at the tall guy and then the shorter one. "Chelle said to drop her name, you'd let me skip the line."

The tall guy leered at her, a cheesy grin plastered on his face. 'Bi' was her next thought 'Definitely bi'. The short guy looked her up and down. "Well, if Chelle said..."

"Chelle said." Psyche replied, glad her hearing came in useful at least once in a while. The stocky guy moved sideways and she sidled past, into the throng of people dancing in a frenzy on the dance floor, old techno pumped in her ears as she surveyed the crowd. A sudden tap on the shoulder spun her round into the black eyes of someone she knew.

"Psyche." Psyche's hand flew to her forehead where she suddenly saluted.

"739." Psyche blanched as she said the three numbers.

"Call me Chelle. I prefer the letters to numbers."