Hunter looked over at the place where his compatriot Nightheart had been only moments ago. It figured that she would choose to run off like that. She was always doing that disappearing act, it had nearly driven Hunter to distraction at one point early on in their association. But then, if Nightheart always disappeared when she felt superfluous she always reappeared when she was most needed.

"Come, Mister Hunter," said the young blonde, kindly looking individual. "Meet the others of our party."

If Hunter remembered correctly, the young man's name was Catra. He reminded Hunter of a sweet little cherub, all innoscence and light. Hunter sternly reminded himself that appearances could be deceiving, no one was ever exactly as they appeared. The whole kindness-and-sugar act could be just that, an act. Hunter had no idea what this person was really like. But despite his suspicions, something in him really wanted to like the guy.

He could be an Empath, Hunter thought after a moments consideration as he followed behind his cherubic-looking guide. He could be influencing my thoughts to make me want to like and trust him.

Projective Empaths were rare, but not unheard of in Hunters world. They were usually carefully monitored for breeding purposes by the Committee. Like Telepaths, they had to be carefully trained in their abilities and a code of ethics before they could be introduced into society. An out-of-control Projective Empath loose in a crowd had been known to cause riots and chaos until they were sedated and brought to a Committee Training Center.

Just to be certain that Projective Empathy was not what was causing Hunter to want to like the young blonde, Hunter checked his shields. Being the son of a Telepath had given Hunter some small latent telepathic abilities. He wasn't very strong, not like his mother had been, but he was smart in how he used his abilities. Hunter could block casual scans, and even deeper probes but it required a lot of concentration on his part. He could sense when someone around him was using their abilities sometimes, and he could, under great times of stress send out a mental call for help that could be heard by any nearby sensitive. But Hunter himself was not able to scan another persons thoughts or probe into their minds. His mother had been able to, but Hunter was deaf to the telepathic world. He considered himself lucky for that, he'd rather not wander around knowing what others were thinking all of the time.

No damage to my shields, but the lad is Projecting an aura of calm and well-meaning, thought Hunter. It has the feel of being an untrained ability. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it, but he is a very strong sender. I think I should offer to teach him the basics before I leave, it could be dangerous to have that gift go untrained.

Hunter shook himself out of his thoughts. Speculation could wait.

"Here we are," Quatre said politely. He led Hunter into a room with people lounging about. Well, at least some of them were. The first ones he noticed were the ones he'd already met… Zechs, Noin and his charge Miss Relena. His eyes skipped over them to take the other people in the room. There was a dark-haired young woman with bright blue eyes laying on a couch covered with a blanket, near her there sat a young man with a braid that was probably as long as Nightheart's hair when it was down.

"…heaven's sake Duo! It's only a little scratch, I've sustained worse in training under OZ, will you stop fussing already!" the girl on the couch was carping at the boy with the braid.

"…Just goes to show you that women should not be fighting. They'll only get themselves hurt." This from a young man with dark-bronze skin, cat-like oriental eyes and a tight pony tail. He was practicing a martial arts kata on a nearby rug. "And when are we going to get sent out again, I tire of waiting here like a defenseless woman or child when I could be out there doing something about these…Night creatures."

There was a woman sitting near him with gold-blonde hair in two efficient twists on one side of her head who was simultaneously going through a first aid kit and cleaning a gun.

"Oh Wufei, you're just sore because this new enemy of ours beat you in a dual," said the shapely blonde woman. Obviously she was military. "Well, you shouldn't feel that way. He beat everybody. And besides, you heard what that girl from the other world said…these Nightsiders can't be killed by normal means."

The one called Wufei only grunted.

The golden haired one exchanged a look with Noin and murmured

"I think someone had better give him something to do with all of this time on his hands or he's going to drive himself and us completely crazy."

This earned her a glare from the Chinaman. She did nothing but grin it off.

"Well, I'm kinda glad I don't have to go out hunting these things, whatever they are. I saw it pick up that marble table-top, and its ability to remotely disconnect a Gundam is a bit daunting, even for someone of my fighting expertise," said the one with the braid. "However, they must be from another world if they did not recognize the God of Death when they saw him."

"Oh get over yourself!" said the woman from the couch disparagingly.

"Wha-at?" asked the braided one, looking at her innocently. "You're not just as surprised as everyone else here that these nightpeople didn't run the other way at the sight of Shinigami?"

"No, I'm surprised they didn't run the other way when faced with the size of your ego, Duo," teased the dark-haired couch-dweller.

"If you two would please take your courtship games else where," said the chinaman looking over at them from his interrupted kata. "I cannot practice my kata when you two are disturbing my chi."

"Courtship games?!" said Duo. Hunter could tell by the way his eyes widened and how he immediately tried to deny it that the braided one had a soft spot for the one on the couch. Only a direct hit on the man's true feelings could create that exact kind of a reaction. As the two young men prepared to embroil themselves in a verbal sparring match, Hunter noted that Noin and Zechs exchanged a knowing glance. The kind of glance that said they knew all about what was going on with the young man with the braid and the dark-haired girl and their unrequited feelings for each other, and were amused by it all.

Hunter watched the one with the braid and the Chinese guy squabble for a few minutes like two fishwives over a loaf of fresh bread.

"…refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed person." (This from the Chinese guy.)

"I'll show you unarmed!"

The braided one prepared to lunge at the Chinese fellow.

It was at that moment that Quatre sprang in between the two of them, aided by Relena (who was soothing the ruffled feathers of the chinaman) to break up the fight. Hunter understood why the two had been so quick to pick a fight. Nerves. Things were obviously pretty tense in this room, what with the just recent attack and the need to protect the Vice Foreign Minister. Plus added to that was the very up close and personal demonstration of the power of their new enemy and the fact that people were dying left and right, and naturally everyones nerves were a little high strung. Tempers were bound to be short, and among warriors a good way to get out stress was to pound away at each other.

However, Hunter couldn't see it making much of a difference in these circumstances, it wouldn't help Nightheart catch the Nightsiders she had Mandates for any faster.

"Everyone…" said Quatre, when things had been calmed down. "As some of you already know, this man standing next to me is named Hunter Kylaran. He came over along with Executioner Nightheart and one of their doctors, a Doctor Mian Ishora, to help us."

Quatre turned toward Hunter to introduce him to the other people in the room.

"Hunter, this is Heero Yuy, in case you two haven't been formally introduced."

"Hey mate," said Hunter, grinning at the dark look leveled at him by the brooding youth.

The blonde then pointed to the dark-haired woman reclining in the sofa.

"That's Hilde Schbieker, Preventor Spark as she's been code named. The one next to her is Duo Maxwell, he's been assigned to help with this mission."

"Hello, nice to meet you," said Hunter in a friendly way. Duo waved casually and gave him a friendly grin. Duo's prospective beloved however was slightly more than casually friendly. Hunter was accustomed to being admired by the opposite gender, but it never ceased to embarrass him or make him uncomfortable, he especially hated it when the guys the females liked looked at Hunter like it was his fault that their ladies eyes strayed to him.

"Oh it's very nice to meet you," said Hilde obviously admiring his…assets. Hilde exchanged a glance with Relena that crossed culture boundaries. Hunter was certain, much to his inner dismay, that he would find himself the subject of closed-door female bedroom gossip later that night.

"This is Wufei Chang," Quatre continued on, oblivious to the by-play. So now Hunter knew the name of the Chinese man. Funny, in a way, he almost reminded Hunter of Nightheart, but Nightheart wasn't Chinese. Maybe it was the skin tone. It seemed more likely to be something in the way this Wufei carried himself, the proud, stubborn set to his chin and that look that said "warrior's pride."

"And this is Sally Po, Preventor Water," said Quatre indicating the blonde woman who was just finishing up reassembling her gun.

"Hello," she said absently, still finishing off the last of her checks on the first aid kit. It looked like a rather archaic affair of bandages and scissors, and small packets of burn creams. Where were the skin regenerators or the molecule scrubs? Where were the restorative sprays or the mineral creams? They didn't even have a small bio-gel pack or any bone-grows. This alternaty had a lot to learn about org-tech. Perhaps he should help speed the process along.

Wait a minute, part of him argued. There are many who would argue that by simply handing them this technology, I might be interfering with the growth of their people and civilization as a whole…

He paused and thought about the good that their medicinal technology could do and, if handled properly, the uses it could be put to. True, like any tool it could be used for both good and evil… but it could also cure a tremendous amount of illness and prevent many deaths in this world so..

…screw 'em.

"Hello Miss Po. Are you a doctor?"

"Yes I am," she said. "Why?"

"Well I was just thinking that you'd like to meet Doctor Ishora in her temporary med-fac. She could probably use all the help she can get. Nightheart tends to go pretty rough on her body when she's in full hunt-mode. Even with her increased healing abilities, her symbiont could use all the assistance it can get. I was thinking you two docs might like to compare notes. A lot of our practices and equipment are a little more…" Hunter searched for a polite way to say advanced without making it sound like he thought their own methods were practically neanderthalic.

It was Wufei, however that seemed to be immediately delighted with the suggestion.

"An excellent notion!" he said, brightening up with a look that appeared positively pleased on his face. "You should take this opportunity to learn all you can from this new doctor, Sally."

"You're just saying that because you want to get me off the battlefield and out of harms way," she accused, looking wryly annoyed but well accustomed to his ways.

"Well, there is that added benefit now isn't there?" he said casually.

"Wufei, I thought we talked about this. Will you kindly stop trying to protect me from everything. I'm a soldier, a doctor, and a full grown woman. I can take care of myself."

"Not half so well as I can," he maintained. "You shouldn't be fighting Sally, you'll get hurt, and then our teams effectiveness would be cut in half."

"I don't need to be coddled…" and Hunter tuned them out. He could sense that this was an argument worn thin with time. In fact, it was precisely the same argument he had worn thin with Nightheart. The poor doctor.

"Hey," said Quatre, looking around. "Has anyone seen Trowa?"

"He's out running an errand for me," said Heero, not moving from his position on the wall in the back of the room near Relena. Shoulders resting against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, head bent, he looked like he was resting, Hunter would be willing to bet that he wasn't resting, but was instead watching Hunter and everything else in the room with acute concentration of a hunting falcon.

Relena was busily ensconced in reading over some document or other with Milliardo looking over her shoulder discussing some obscure point in it with her.

Heero, while he certainly didn't look like he was watching the girl, Hunter could see that he was watching the girl. Hunter recognized the veiled look in Heero's eyes, a sort of carefully hidden longing and an obstinate refusal. Hunter could also sense something between the young man and the lady he watched over. It wasn't a telepathic link, but it was some kind of bond…something deeper than mental contact. Hunter was uncertain about how he knew…only simply that it was there and he could feel it.

Heero and Relena were connected, bonded together somehow.

That's strange, thought Hunter, puzzled. I can sense it, but my latent telepathy is inactive. What's going on I wonder?

He shrugged it off, for the moment. It was none of his business, not yet anyway.

* * *

Trowa watched from his perch behind the blasted out wall as their new Executioner faced off with the strange Nightsider. If she defeated this one, that would be two kills within a single night. Trowa recalled the confrontation with the Nightsider over at Cerrid Velsinks estate. Facing down just one of them had taken all five of the Gundam Pilots and seventeen other Preventors, plus Wing Gundam, and they still hadn't brought down the Nightsider.

Neither Trowa nor Quatre had believed President Takahashi in the other Alternaty when he'd told them all just how dangeroud and ruthless those Nightsider Assassing could be. That first battle against the one called "Havoc" had made a believer out of him.

Still, thought Trowa looking at the strange "Executioner" dubiously. I don't know if she's really strong enough to beat this guy. Trowa looked over at the piles of dead bodies…some of the corpses were very tough-looking men, men who made their livings as "enforcers" of mobsters and gang members, men who offed people for a living. This Nightheart looked too small to do anything. Trowa hadn't witnessed the previous battle between Executioner Nightheart and the Nightsider Assassin called Havoc, maybe it was merely a coincidence.

She certainly doesn't look like much, he thought. She was actually pretty short, not much above five feet, and very slight. The Nightsider facing off with her was a good two heads taller than she and built like a bulldozer.

"Time to meet your doom," Bane called to the Executioner.

"'Time to meet your doom'?" she mimicked, her voice laced with disbelief. "Can't you do any better than that?!"

"How's this!… Volt-Screeeaaam!!" he yelled and unleashed a blinding flash of green-white energy outward from his cupped hands, along with the energy came a horrible banshee-like wail crashing through the air. Bane was glowing with a visible aura of power.

Nightheart said nothing, but was crouched in defensive stance, apparently waiting for the blast to hit her. As the blast came crashing towards her like a tsunami of greenish power, she moved suddenly, dodging to one side out of its way. In return she burst out two tiny balls of blue-white power. Those landed on target, hitting Bane in the side. They were followed by several more as Bane wound up for another spell.

"Power-Blaaast!" he yelled hitting his opened hand to the ground at his feet. A crack in the land shot towards her and the area beneath her feet glowed for a moment..

Nightheart was silent, waiting, coiled like a snake ready to strike. As the sphere of mottled green Power prepared to unleash itself around her she tried to spring out of its way again. Too late. It exploded sending rocks and debris everywhere and blasting Nightheart up into the air. She tumbled end over end with the force of the blast but as she came down she twisted into the air and blasted downward towards the ground. Her descent slowed and she landed lightly onto her feet.

What is she doing? thought Trowa. He thought back to what he knew about Nightsiders. They required life energy to live, but these same life energies were also what fueled their Powers. The more powerful the attack thrown, the more energies it took to fuel them.

I see! thought Trowa. The Executioner is waiting for Bane to use up some of his incredible accumulated strength, before she tries to destroy him. A good plan of attack, but he's bound to figure it out sooner or later, unless he's so focused on his goal that he keeps blasting at her regardless of how much power he's using.

* * *

Heero looked over at the new comer from the other Alternaty, still keeping Relena in his peripheral vision. He had an open sort of face, but he did not like in the least the way he seemed to have immediately attracted the attentions of Relena.

It's none of my business who she dates, he reminded himself sternly. I'm only here to help protect her life until the current crisis is over with.

But still, she was smiling at this Hunter Kylaran. She'd known him barely a few hours and they were already talking like old friends, she even laughed at his jokes! She was just too trusting, that was her problem. While it might be true that Hunter was supposed to be on the side of Truth, Justice and Apple Pie, there were corrupt cops and venial priests no matter what society one belonged to. This Hunter could be trying to charm her…and what about his partner, who openly admitted that she was one of those Nightsider creatures? She might suddenly decide to switch sides and there would be no way to stop her. No, Heero did not like this situation in the least.

And that wasn't even taking in to consideration what that Executioner did to Relena when she "altered" her.

"No way! She didn't! Oh Hunter that's so funny!" said Relena, collapsing into a fit of giggles.

The warmth and humor in Relena's voice only served to make Heero's frown deepen.

*

Hunter looked over at the young man who was watching him converse with the young Vice Foreign Minister like a cat a mouse hole.

Man, a glare like that could fell pigeons in mid air! thought Hunter.

"Oi! Heero's gonna end up killing someone with that deathglare of his," Duo muttered in an uncanny echo of Hunter's own thoughts. "If he's in love with the girl he should just tell her so."

"Like you're doing Mister Maxwell?" Hunter riposted, arching a brow.

The one called Duo looked at Hunter sharply.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, scratching the back of his head in an embarrassed manner.

"Of course you don't," he said. Then Hunter leaned forward conspirationally "So tell me…what's the deal with those two? Gimme the dirt."

Duo grinned. Obviously this was a guy cut from the same cloth as he. Duo began a shortened version of the events that had transpired in 195, concentrating mainly on the interactions between his grouchy friend and the lovely blonde pacifist.

"…and every time she needs to be rescued, he's always there. Whether it's from assassins, rebels or just your average run of the mill terrorist group, Heero always manages to save her from harm. With some help from the rest of us, of course."


"It must be nice having someone who's always happy to have you rescue her."

Duo looked puzzled, but let it slide.

"Wanna know something really fun to do?" said Duo, mischievous look on his face.

"What?" echoing look on Hunters face.

"Go over there to where he's standing and see how pesky and troublesome you can make yourself before he finally draws a gun on you out of sheer irritation. It's a great sport."

"This wouldn't be one of those things you do to newcomers to get them in trouble would it?" asked Hunter suspiciously.

"Would I do that?" asked Duo, feigning innosence.

"I sure as hell would," was Hunter's reply. And without further ado, he wandered over to where Heero stood, keeping his eyes on all of the exits.

"Hullo mate," said Hunter in a friendly manner. Heero merely looked at him, his icy demeanor sending out the message 'go away and leave me alone' as obviously as a neon sign floating above his head.

"Nice place you have here," Hunter continued casually, leaning against the wall and spinning his plasma-blaster on one finger. "A bit far behind on the technology, but it has a very european feel to it. Say, d'you want to hear the second most annoying song in the world?"

"No. No singing," heero growled.

"Aww c'mon," said Hunter cajolingly. "I'm a very good singer."

" This is the kind of conversation that could only end in a gunshot."

"Bannanas, in pajamas, are coming down the stairs… Bananas, in pajamas are coming down in pairs… Bananas, in pajamas are chasing teddy bears…Everybody's goal is just to catch them unawares," Hunter started, quickly joined by one or two others who grinned wide enough to split their faces wide open.

"Second verse same as the first!"

And Relena joined in with Duo, Hilde, and Sally who were all in on the joke. Wufei was glaring at his partner and telling her that she should be above such childishness. The younger Peacecraft looked like she was getting as much amusement at Heero's expense as the rest of them.

Duo called "Third verse, same as the first!"

And Out Came The Gun!

Silence. For a moment. Then

"And speaking of first…" said Hunter, glancing significantly at Duo. "Does anybody know…who's on first?"

"Exactly," said Duo smoothly.

"What?" asked Hunter. By this time all of the ones in on the joke were smirking or snickering with mirth. Heero continued to look supremely unamused, which only made it funnier. Heero torture, always a grand sport to liven up any dull evening.

"Second," chimed in Hilde.

"Second what?" asked Hunter, feigning confusion.

"Yes," said Hilde.

"So Yes is the name of the guy on first?"

"No, Who's on first," said Duo.

"That's what I just asked you, who's on first?" demanded Hunter, looking pained. By this time, the entire assembly was watching the scene with varying degrees of amusement, or in one rare case disdain. Heero was looking progressively more hostile as the gag continued.

"Precisely," Hilde said.

"So Precisely is the name of the guy on first?"

"No, Who's on first!" exclaimed Duo.

"That's what I just-" Huner broke off, pretending to get frustrated at Duo's apparent obtuseness. "Okay, So…What is the name of the guy standing on first base?"

"No, What's on second base, Who's on first," clarified Sally.

"I just asked you! Tell me his name!"

"Who," said Relena innocently.

"The guy on first!"

"Who," reiterated Hilde.

"The guy, standing on first base, what's his name!"

"No, What's on second," Duo corrected matter of factly.

"Why I oughta-" grumbled Hunter.

"Third," Sally tossed in.

"What?"

"Second," chirped Relena.

"I give up, at least tell me who's manning third."

"Why," said Duo sagely.

"Because I want to know! Who's playing third?"

"No, Who's on first, third base is Why."

"Why what?"

"Third and second," Sally maintained.

"But Who's on first?"

"Yes."

"Yes is on first?"

"No, who's on first."

Kla-chleck! Hunter looked over to find the barrel of an archaic slug thrower being aimed at his temple by the now thoroughly annoyed body guard.

"The next one who speaks, gets it," Heero promised.

"Oh really?" said Hunter as he prepared for the final hit, the coup de grace. "What?"

"Second base!" Relena called and they all collapsed into fits of giggling, save Wufei who was too dignified and Zechs, who only unbent enough to smirk. Some one was bound to take it, the opening was simply too good to resist. The look on Heero's face was worth it too.

If this was what Heero was like after just one day with Hunter hanging around, they'd hate to imagine what he'd be like after a week!

* * *

Trowa watched the battle from his protected perch, everything in him just itched to be out there helping, but he knew, with the finely honed instincts of the warrior within him, that he would be more of a hindrance than a help in this battle. The battle, by its very nature was not something he could fight in.

"Jagged-Bolllt!" Bane yelled as a lance of lighning blasted at Nightheart from one side. This time, she wouldn't be able to dodge it. Nightheart calmly pressed one of the buttons on the arm-guards at her wrists as the bolt was about to strike her.

There was a flash as her attackers bolt smashed into something round and invisible, a dome covering Nightheart.

"You really should know better than that," said Nightheart. "Jagged-bolts can be deflected by modified shielding."

"A weak attack, I'll grant you," Bane replied. "But everyone knows that even modified shielding can't stand up to what even a Tenth Circle Nightsider can dish out when they concentrate. And I'm Fourth Circle, I tire of toying with you Executioner. Now it's time for a taste of what real power is."

Bane growled, and readied himself for another big attack. Trowa could feel the air humming with power, even from his vantage point at a relatively safe distance. It had a thick quality to it that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, it was like a low beat played just below the audible level that made his eardrums vibrate inside his head. Watching in facination, Trowa noted that Bane was surrounded by a thick glowing miasma of some kind of power.

Trowa saw a strange sphere of glow, about the size of a basketball, gather in the air above Bane's cupped hands. Nightheart's eyes widened. Trowa read the 'oh shit!' on her lips just before Bane shouted

"Drraaaagon's-breath!" and let fly the sphere.

Trowa could feel the heat from the dragonsbreath attack even from where he crouched. When it landed on the spot where Nightheart stood, concentrating on something, it burst in a flash of white so brilliant Trowa had to shield his eyes. There was a hot wind that felt like it came straight from the heat of a star followed by a shockwave that shook the surrounding stones of the building. When Trowa could look out again, all he saw was a smoking crater, glassed over by the heat of Bane's attack.

This guy could give some competition to Zero's buster rifle! Trowa noted in detached amazement. He felt obscurely glad that he did not live in that other Alternaty where there were even more of those Nightsider creatures running around killing people to score points in some game only they understood.

"Heh," said Bane smugly. "She wasn't so tough. I don't see how she killed all those other- What the-?!"

"Kiiuurreee-KAAAI!!!!" the voice of Nightheart screamed from the mouth of the smoking crater. In a concentrated burst of pure white light, a wall of power shot out from her body heading straight towards Bane. The ground tore up before the attack wall, crusting up into little pieces before disintegrating in the force of the blasting tsunami. The wall crested into a wave that crashed down onto Bane knocking him backwards and sending him flying, his body made a new crater as he was blasted down into it, resembling a meteorite crashing into the Earth.

Nightheart leapt into the crater after him, obviously intending to follow up her first attack with a quick victory, when Bane came flying at her from where he should have been lying unconscious in a coma if these Nightsiders obeyed the laws of Human Physiology. Bane's sword flashed in the moonlight in a killing arc as Bane fell down onto her position.

Clang! Trowa heard the reassuring ring of metal on metal. The fight continued this way for a minute, seeming oddly quiet compared to the previous sounds of blasts and massive property damage.

It's down to blades then? Have they both used up their power? Trowa wondered, watching the skillful dance of attack and counter attack, lunge and parry and riposte and remieze, both gaining and losing ground in a complicated pattern that spelled injury or death at a misstep. Bane grew impatient once more and went in for a final kill, a fast flurry of attacks intending to surprise her into making a mistake.

Bane swiped at Nightheart from the side, intent on cutting off an arm at least. Nightheart blocked with her the non-bladed end of her weapon and murmured quietly

"Zah-Driini."

Then at the point where her blade met his a bolt of Jagged-Volt, the same attack that Bane had used on her earlier, lanced down his own blade and fried him where he stood. For the second time, Bane went flying backwards and Nightheart followed calmly.

*

Nightheart put her Assassins mark on Bane's Contact Point. This was the part about her job that she had always hated. First came the stream of energies, smooth, flowing, effervescent, like a bottle of champane or a good long soak in the sun.

Then came the memories. Scenes of the Nightsider's life, Alejandro Montoya. For a breif moment she experienced his life, lived it with him in brief flashes that were torn away as she drained his vital essence and his life tore further and further. Piece by piece.

At ten he'd taken a camping trip with his mother along a lake somewhere. Snip. At fifteen he'd buried her as the result of a skimmer crash. Wrench..snip. Twenty, he'd married, his bride…so beautiful. Later children. Snip, snip. Their faces flashed before her, she learned their names, how his family had died in an outbreak of a virus on a colony world they'd been settling. Tearing, wrenching, that was the only way it could be described. Each memory wrenched something deep inside of her. How he had been declared insane and sent to the Institute to be Healed. Snip. Then she learned of his victims, saw them each one by one, learned their names as he knew them. Nightheart soothed him when his panic welled up with the realization that he was about to die. He slipped further and further away from his body.

So tired. I feel so heavy… It hurts now! he said into her mind groggily. He had only just gotten his memories of who he had been before Conditioning and the Mindwipe while he hovered at the edge of death and life. That was the sad part, Nightheart could not spare him.

It won't hurt for long, Alejandro. Sleep now and may your journey along the Starpaths be better than what you suffered here.

Then came the final rush of energies, like jumping off a cliff and being surrounded by wind, then plunging into clear cold water.

Nightheart blinked once, disoriented.

Every single time I do that, I could almost swear they take a piece of me with them, she thought resisting the urge to curl up into a fetal position and weep, or find a private corner somewhere and throw up all the contents of her stomach. How much longer can I do this? How much longer before there's nothing left? it was something she wondered every time it happened.

"Hey," said a voice behind her. Nightheart whirled, hands ready with another blast of Power.

Oh, it's just him, she thought, standing down. Her uniform was a mess, charred, melted in some spots, bloodied. There were several gaping wounds that began knitting themselves together under her sharp gaze.

"Are you alright?" Trowa asked, looking into her face. Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but beneath her naturally dark skin, she looked pale.

"Yes," she said as she bent over one of the key pads in her suit. She started typing something.

"What are you typing?" Trowa asked, curious.

"A List. Names. All of his victims," said the Executioner shortly. She seemed to have regained her equilibrium.

"How many?"

"Five hundred twenty-six attacks and four hundred ninety-two deathkills, in my alternaty. In yours, All of his attacks were deathkills, forty three all told. I'll give all of the names to your Lady Une later," she said. "Now that you've seen what you came to see, you should go and report back to your commanders."

"One final thing before I go," said Trowa quietly. His eyes flashed with intelligence.

"What is it?"

"You're one of these Nightsider beings yourself, right?"

"I believe that it's already been established," said Nightheart dryly.

"And the other Nightsiders feed off humans to get their energies and you don't?"

"Yes."

"Sooo…that means that you must get your enegies from somewhere."

"Smart man," she said. Her voice sounded as hollow as his was before he'd gained a place to belong. "I am dependent upon the other Nightsiders to survive. My Symbiont needs those extra life energies or both me and it will die, and since I will not feed off other Humans, I feed off the Nightsiders. So, now you know. I'm just as wrong and evil as they are."

Trowa nodded mutely, understanding, as the last piece in the puzzle clicked into place.


"I must start on my next Hunt. You go back to your base."

There was a crackle as Nightheart's com-device flared to life.

*crackle* -ightheart…come in. *crackle* -ecutioner Nightheart…-ission status?

Hunter's voice sounded into the chill air from Nightheart's halfway melted com device.

"I'm here," she said calmly.

"Mission status?" asked Hunter.

"Subject Terminated."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

End Part 6

Disclaimers: see part one.

A.N. Hello? Is anyone reading this? Please review, I feel so unloved. (Not that I'm trying to make anyone feel guilty or anything). I worked so hard on it, maybe I'm releasing it on the wrong date, is it the story line? There must be something wrong with it… I hope it's not the weird alternate timeline. I wrote it to answer a challenge but I must have failed somehow. Oh well, I already have up until chapter nine written. For those of you who have reviewed this unworthy one's fiction I thank you very much. Apparently I'm not doing so terribly.