A/N: It's been like 4 months since I updated this story. Pretty lax, huh?
Well, it's all for a good reason. I'm living in Hawaii now! So, clearly,
I've been a little preocuppied going to the beach and all. But, all the
downtime has given me plenty of time to think and plan, plan and think...
so, after the standard disclaimer (I own nothing here, aside from the Palm
on which this was written and the rather pathetic plot) we'll get to the
point.
~~~~~Starts Here~~~~~
"Sir, there's something here you might want to see."
"Yes, Major?" Major General John Hammond looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk.
"Last night, approximately 2345 hours, NORAD picked up a possible airspace violation along the southern border of New Mexico." Samantha Carter presented the three-star with a few sheets of paper, one a map of the southwestern United States, the others columns of data concerning radar returns.
"Possible? Major, it either is or it isn't. Why do you think this warrants the attention of the SGC?"
"Well, sir, the radar telemetry was very faint. Our radar only barely picked it up, even with the new algorithms we got from the Asgard. Roswell, Lackland and Site 7 didn't even get a blip."
Hammond steepled his fingers and leaned forward over the desk.
"I see. What was the nature of the contact?"
Carter checked a notepad. "It was metallic, moving at somewhere between Mach 7 and 9, heading north at roughly 100,000 feet."
"Good eye, Major," Hammond said. "For some reason, I don't think thats Mexican."
"Thank you, sir."
"Where did we lose tracking on the contact?"
"Somewhere over Roswell County, New Mexico. There was a meteor shower last night - it's really a miracle we picked anything up at all."
The general leaned back. "So you don't think it was a meteor, then?"
"Call it my gut feeling, sir. A meteor shower is the perfect time to attempt an orbital insertion undetected. The data is just too fishy to overlook."
"Alright then, Major. Prepare a brief for a team from Roswell Air Force Base. Standard search and retrieval parameters."
Carter nodded. "Yes, sir." She stood and saluted. The general returned it.
"Dismissed, Major."
*********
Sarah yawned and stretched her arms, feeling each muscle twinge in turn. It was coming up on two in the morning, and they had just gotten back from stargazing. Liz had taken first dibs on the shower, leaving Sarah alone in the spare bedroom. Definitely time for sleep.
Just one thing she needed to do first.
Sarah took from her pocket a small leather coinpurse that she had purchased today during her shopping with Liz and Max. She opened it and took out a small pinch of sand that had come from the mountaintop earlier that night, which she then sprinkled across the doorstep. She put more on the windowsill and in a circle around her room. The rest she poured into her cupped hand, then sat indian-style on the bed. She took a few moments to center herself, then began.
"Sandman, Morpheus, hear my words, Dream-King! I beseech thee, grant me safety in your realm this night. Guard my soul while I wander the dreamfields. Protect my vessel until the shroud of night fades. So mote it be!"
With the last, she threw the handful of sand into the air. It briefly shone with unearthly white light, scattered, and vanished as the ward took hold. To her other sight, a shining web of force surrounded her bedroom.
Sarah breathed out slowly; she was suddenly more tired than she had been before she cast the ward, but she did not begrudge the investiture of personal power it took to do so. Such a powerful shield, a direct appeal to one of the Powers, was a necessity in her mind. She knew about all the different kinds of evil that, all too often, went bump in the night. However, there were not many things she knew of that could cross such a barrier without... extreme discomfort.
"You still awake?"
Liz' musical voice jerked Sarah back to reality. The petite brunette was at her door, clad in a towel, her black hair clinging to her neck. She wore an expression of concern.
"Yeah... barely." Sarah gave a tired smile.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have kept you up so late. You look like you're ready to pass out."
"I'll be fine once I get a few hours of sleep." She sounded more convinced than she felt.
"You were in a coma two days ago. Maybe you ought to take it easy for a while."
Sarah sighed. "You're right. No more midnight mountain climbing."
Liz laughed softly. "At least for a while. Go to bed."
"Okay." She smiled. "See you tomorrow."
"Night!" Liz vanished down the hall, her bare feet hardly making a sound. She was, Sarah thought, apparently an expert at late-night comings and goings. Sarah was pretty sure that Max could tell a few of those stories.
She fell back on the bed, her head hitting the pillow with a very undignified thud. The spell had taken a lot out of her - more so, perhaps, than she wanted to admit, even to herself. It was a little foolish to attempt a casting so soon after... well, she wasn't sure what, but it had apparently not been healthy.
Once again, Liz demonstrated that most rare of human qualities - concern for her fellow man. Or woman. Whatever. Some day soon, Sarah resolved, she was going to extend the shields she had just woven around Liz, and the elder Parkers as well. It was a small step towards repaying the kindness they had shown her.
But for now - sleep. Stupid lights.
Sarah, still flat on her back, really couldn't muster the energy to get out of bed. Instead, she spun out a thin tendril of psychic force, and with a small gesture, shut the door and turned out the lights.
That night, she dreamed of falling stars.
********
"Walker Control, this is Griffon Flight Lead, entering your airspace."
"Griffon Lead, Walker Control, we have you on radar. Be advised, your altitude is low."
"Walker Control, Griffon, we are operating under special military jurisdiction. Please vector all traffic away from our position."
There was a brief pause. "Roger that, Griffon Lead." There was another pause. " How much airspace do you require?"
"Walker Control, Griffon, we require a five mile radius to 10,000 feet."
"Walker Control copies five miles up to flight level ten."
"Thank you for your cooperation, Walker Control. Griffon Squadron out."
The three UH-60C Blackhawks of Griffon Squadron raced low over the desert in the pre-dawn darkness. Major Noah Hale flexed his hand on the controls of his helicopter, Griffon Lead, and checked the navcomputer for his ETA to the search zone. The mission parameters had been somewhat vague: search for and identify a possible downed craft in the New Mexico desert. Render aid as nescessary. They weren't the most ambiguous orders he had recieved in his two years of duty at Site 7, the DOD installation more commonly known as Area 51, but they were damn close.
Ten Airborne Rangers were mounted in the back of his Blackhawk, all grim men in their late twenties, all veterans with at least 5 years of service. Griffon Two carried a squad of Marine Force Recon, and Griffon Three a unit of Navy SEALS seconded from SEAL Team 6.
Whatever they were looking for had really pissed someone off.
Hale checked his map again. They were almost to the crash site.
The first rays of dawn streamed red over the mountains just as the black choppers flared and hovered over forests on the foothills of the mountain. The major keyed his radio.
"Griffon flight, we're going to commence a standard spiral search pattern, centered on this location. Five mile radius. AWACS coverage indicates nothing on the ground, so we're going to have to do this the hard way. Two, pay close attention to the forest. Three, swing around that mountain and get a good look in all the ravines and gullies. Griffon Flight, acknowledge."
"Two copies."
"Three copies."
The helicopters banked off to take up their assigned positions. Bright beams of light cut through the darkness as searchlights were deployed.
Major Hale adjusted his grip on the stick of his bird and sighed. They had over 75 square miles of ground to cover. This was going to take awhile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So- how was the first day?"
Sarah sighed and pulled off her alien-eyes headband.
"I have eyes on springs... and a green dress. About as good as it could be expected, I guess."
Liz smiled sympathetically. "I know, it's not the best, but hey... imagine how I feel. I kinda don't have a choice. Dad owns the place and all." The two were in the Crashdowns back room, heading up the stairs to the apartment.
"No, it's not that, it's just... I don't think I've ever been in the food industry before. I'll get used to it."
"Well, what do you want to do this afternoon?" They entered Liz' bedroom, and she plopped down on the bed.
Sarah shrugged. "Not sure... what is there?"
"Not much. We could... uh... go bowing?"
Sarah went to sit Indian style on the floor, then thought better of it. She just folded her legs underneath her and smoothed the short skirt out as best she could.
"I dunno. I get a feeling I'm not a good bowler."
"You don't have to be. Come on, who really is?"
Sarah giggled. "Okay, true."
"On the other hand, this could very well be a popcorn-and-movie night."
"It very well could be," Sarah agreed.
"You could meet Maria, and Isabel... yeah, I think it's movies tonight."
"Who's Isabel?"
"I thought I mentioned her last night. She's Max's sister."
"Oh - yeah, I think you did. What's she like?"
Liz frowned and paused for a second. "When I first met her, I didn't like her very much - she was preppy and all Ice Queen-y. But once you get to know her... she's a great friend to have."
"Sounds like how I would expect Max's sister to be."
Liz's head popped up and looked down, over the edge of the bed. "Why do you say that?"
Sarah was fidgeting with her hands, to which she paid a great deal of attention. "He's - he just seems like someone who's very... intense, who always tries to carry the weight of the world, but... cares a lot about people, too."
Liz laughed and swung her feet out of bed. "That's him, just about in a nutshell. I'll call Maria and Isabel."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lead, Griffon Three. I have something you may be interested in."
"Go ahead, Three."
"I've located what appears to be a crash furrow on the other side of this mountain. No sign of a craft."
"Roger that, Three. Establish a perimeter."
"Copy that."
Griffon Three's Blackhawk came to hover thirty feet over the rocky slope. Black shapes slid silently down ropes and quickly secured the area.
Lieutenant Christian Holst was second on the ground. His SEALs moved like ghosts in the dawn, silent shadows flitting from cover to cover. He quickly glanced over the area and signaled to his 2IC.
"LT?"
"Is the area hot?"
"We'll know in a minute."
Another SEAL was kneeling over the trench with an instrument. He turned and gave a thumbs up.
"Griffon Lead, area is secure."
Within a minute, two other Blackhawks approached from the west, flaring out further down the furrow. Soldiers fast-roped to the ground and swiftly deployed around the perimeter. Other shapes vanished into the shadows of the trench. Holst watched from his end, crouched low with his weapon at the ready. For the moment, all that was heard was the whump-whump of the Blackhawks' rotors.
"First Section, report."
"Command, there appears to be a opening to a cavern. We are proceeding to investigate."
"Very well." Silence.
"Sir, the cave network appears to be fairly extensive. There is an artifact - "
The sharp crack of gunfire rang out in the red morning light. Weapons snapped to shoulders. Automatic fire echoed from the rocky hills, sounding at first in groups of three, then long, sustained bursts.
Silence.
"Command, area is secure. Marines are down - get the corpsman down here!"
"Roger that. Moving." Holst moved for the entrance to the cavern, his SEALs following. The Navy corpsman with their unit was the first in the hole.
The cave, awash with green light from Cyalume chem-sticks, was dominated by a spacecraft that was clearly not of human origin. Marines in desert camo and tactical webbing covered down in the rocks, covering the paths deeper into the cave. Three more secured the bullet-ridden carcass of the creature that had attacked them.
Gunnery Sargeant Jacobs had shucked his shredded body armor, BDU jacket and t-shirt and was gingerly cleaning the four deep, bloody furrows that ran from his left shoulder across his chest. His left arm hung limp at his side.
"How ya feelin', Gunny?"
"Like an alien monster sliced me open fucking Predator style, Doc."
The corpsman knelt beside the wounded Marine and broke out his bag.
"What the hell did that?"
Jacobs winced as the corpsman flushed the wound. "That critter over there got the drop on us... came off the ceiling. I barely missed... aaahh, goddammit... being disembowled. I tagged the fucker, though." He patted the H&K G36 on the ground next to him.
"You should really be more careful, you know."
"Fuck you, Doc."
Lieutenant Holst stood between a rock and a hard place - or, rather, a dead alien juggernaught and the spaceship it flew in on.
The craft was small - about the size of a Blackhawk, he figured. Certainly not large enough to travel between the stars. The thing didn't even have any visible engines. It was kind of unnerving.
Then again, there was the alien corpse. The thing must have been 800 pounds of corded muscle and wicked claws. It was scary as hell. Fortunately, it was also quite dead. He kicked it for good measure.
"How are we doing, Master Chief?"
"It's all in hand, L-T. We're baggin' and taggin right now." His senior enlisted man responded.
"Good. I want to be out of here ASAP. Let the coats coms out and play with their toys - this place gives me the heebies."
"Aye, sir."
****
Kor'val watched the humans with contempt. He stood unseen in their midst - it was simplicity itself to cloud their minds against his presence. Still, he must accord the human warriors honor. They had arrived with frightening speed, captured his ship, and destroyed his ka'bo'ken battle construct.
All was proceeding as he had forseen.
The humans believed that the threat had been contained... after all, if they had found a ship, but no passenger, his presence would have been suspected.
Now, his mission could be achieved with none the wiser. The Royals would be punished for their insolence. And he - Kor'val, First hashashim of Antar, would be the instrument of K'vars vengeance.
~~~~End Chapter 5~~~~
~~~~~Starts Here~~~~~
"Sir, there's something here you might want to see."
"Yes, Major?" Major General John Hammond looked up from the stack of paperwork on his desk.
"Last night, approximately 2345 hours, NORAD picked up a possible airspace violation along the southern border of New Mexico." Samantha Carter presented the three-star with a few sheets of paper, one a map of the southwestern United States, the others columns of data concerning radar returns.
"Possible? Major, it either is or it isn't. Why do you think this warrants the attention of the SGC?"
"Well, sir, the radar telemetry was very faint. Our radar only barely picked it up, even with the new algorithms we got from the Asgard. Roswell, Lackland and Site 7 didn't even get a blip."
Hammond steepled his fingers and leaned forward over the desk.
"I see. What was the nature of the contact?"
Carter checked a notepad. "It was metallic, moving at somewhere between Mach 7 and 9, heading north at roughly 100,000 feet."
"Good eye, Major," Hammond said. "For some reason, I don't think thats Mexican."
"Thank you, sir."
"Where did we lose tracking on the contact?"
"Somewhere over Roswell County, New Mexico. There was a meteor shower last night - it's really a miracle we picked anything up at all."
The general leaned back. "So you don't think it was a meteor, then?"
"Call it my gut feeling, sir. A meteor shower is the perfect time to attempt an orbital insertion undetected. The data is just too fishy to overlook."
"Alright then, Major. Prepare a brief for a team from Roswell Air Force Base. Standard search and retrieval parameters."
Carter nodded. "Yes, sir." She stood and saluted. The general returned it.
"Dismissed, Major."
*********
Sarah yawned and stretched her arms, feeling each muscle twinge in turn. It was coming up on two in the morning, and they had just gotten back from stargazing. Liz had taken first dibs on the shower, leaving Sarah alone in the spare bedroom. Definitely time for sleep.
Just one thing she needed to do first.
Sarah took from her pocket a small leather coinpurse that she had purchased today during her shopping with Liz and Max. She opened it and took out a small pinch of sand that had come from the mountaintop earlier that night, which she then sprinkled across the doorstep. She put more on the windowsill and in a circle around her room. The rest she poured into her cupped hand, then sat indian-style on the bed. She took a few moments to center herself, then began.
"Sandman, Morpheus, hear my words, Dream-King! I beseech thee, grant me safety in your realm this night. Guard my soul while I wander the dreamfields. Protect my vessel until the shroud of night fades. So mote it be!"
With the last, she threw the handful of sand into the air. It briefly shone with unearthly white light, scattered, and vanished as the ward took hold. To her other sight, a shining web of force surrounded her bedroom.
Sarah breathed out slowly; she was suddenly more tired than she had been before she cast the ward, but she did not begrudge the investiture of personal power it took to do so. Such a powerful shield, a direct appeal to one of the Powers, was a necessity in her mind. She knew about all the different kinds of evil that, all too often, went bump in the night. However, there were not many things she knew of that could cross such a barrier without... extreme discomfort.
"You still awake?"
Liz' musical voice jerked Sarah back to reality. The petite brunette was at her door, clad in a towel, her black hair clinging to her neck. She wore an expression of concern.
"Yeah... barely." Sarah gave a tired smile.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have kept you up so late. You look like you're ready to pass out."
"I'll be fine once I get a few hours of sleep." She sounded more convinced than she felt.
"You were in a coma two days ago. Maybe you ought to take it easy for a while."
Sarah sighed. "You're right. No more midnight mountain climbing."
Liz laughed softly. "At least for a while. Go to bed."
"Okay." She smiled. "See you tomorrow."
"Night!" Liz vanished down the hall, her bare feet hardly making a sound. She was, Sarah thought, apparently an expert at late-night comings and goings. Sarah was pretty sure that Max could tell a few of those stories.
She fell back on the bed, her head hitting the pillow with a very undignified thud. The spell had taken a lot out of her - more so, perhaps, than she wanted to admit, even to herself. It was a little foolish to attempt a casting so soon after... well, she wasn't sure what, but it had apparently not been healthy.
Once again, Liz demonstrated that most rare of human qualities - concern for her fellow man. Or woman. Whatever. Some day soon, Sarah resolved, she was going to extend the shields she had just woven around Liz, and the elder Parkers as well. It was a small step towards repaying the kindness they had shown her.
But for now - sleep. Stupid lights.
Sarah, still flat on her back, really couldn't muster the energy to get out of bed. Instead, she spun out a thin tendril of psychic force, and with a small gesture, shut the door and turned out the lights.
That night, she dreamed of falling stars.
********
"Walker Control, this is Griffon Flight Lead, entering your airspace."
"Griffon Lead, Walker Control, we have you on radar. Be advised, your altitude is low."
"Walker Control, Griffon, we are operating under special military jurisdiction. Please vector all traffic away from our position."
There was a brief pause. "Roger that, Griffon Lead." There was another pause. " How much airspace do you require?"
"Walker Control, Griffon, we require a five mile radius to 10,000 feet."
"Walker Control copies five miles up to flight level ten."
"Thank you for your cooperation, Walker Control. Griffon Squadron out."
The three UH-60C Blackhawks of Griffon Squadron raced low over the desert in the pre-dawn darkness. Major Noah Hale flexed his hand on the controls of his helicopter, Griffon Lead, and checked the navcomputer for his ETA to the search zone. The mission parameters had been somewhat vague: search for and identify a possible downed craft in the New Mexico desert. Render aid as nescessary. They weren't the most ambiguous orders he had recieved in his two years of duty at Site 7, the DOD installation more commonly known as Area 51, but they were damn close.
Ten Airborne Rangers were mounted in the back of his Blackhawk, all grim men in their late twenties, all veterans with at least 5 years of service. Griffon Two carried a squad of Marine Force Recon, and Griffon Three a unit of Navy SEALS seconded from SEAL Team 6.
Whatever they were looking for had really pissed someone off.
Hale checked his map again. They were almost to the crash site.
The first rays of dawn streamed red over the mountains just as the black choppers flared and hovered over forests on the foothills of the mountain. The major keyed his radio.
"Griffon flight, we're going to commence a standard spiral search pattern, centered on this location. Five mile radius. AWACS coverage indicates nothing on the ground, so we're going to have to do this the hard way. Two, pay close attention to the forest. Three, swing around that mountain and get a good look in all the ravines and gullies. Griffon Flight, acknowledge."
"Two copies."
"Three copies."
The helicopters banked off to take up their assigned positions. Bright beams of light cut through the darkness as searchlights were deployed.
Major Hale adjusted his grip on the stick of his bird and sighed. They had over 75 square miles of ground to cover. This was going to take awhile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So- how was the first day?"
Sarah sighed and pulled off her alien-eyes headband.
"I have eyes on springs... and a green dress. About as good as it could be expected, I guess."
Liz smiled sympathetically. "I know, it's not the best, but hey... imagine how I feel. I kinda don't have a choice. Dad owns the place and all." The two were in the Crashdowns back room, heading up the stairs to the apartment.
"No, it's not that, it's just... I don't think I've ever been in the food industry before. I'll get used to it."
"Well, what do you want to do this afternoon?" They entered Liz' bedroom, and she plopped down on the bed.
Sarah shrugged. "Not sure... what is there?"
"Not much. We could... uh... go bowing?"
Sarah went to sit Indian style on the floor, then thought better of it. She just folded her legs underneath her and smoothed the short skirt out as best she could.
"I dunno. I get a feeling I'm not a good bowler."
"You don't have to be. Come on, who really is?"
Sarah giggled. "Okay, true."
"On the other hand, this could very well be a popcorn-and-movie night."
"It very well could be," Sarah agreed.
"You could meet Maria, and Isabel... yeah, I think it's movies tonight."
"Who's Isabel?"
"I thought I mentioned her last night. She's Max's sister."
"Oh - yeah, I think you did. What's she like?"
Liz frowned and paused for a second. "When I first met her, I didn't like her very much - she was preppy and all Ice Queen-y. But once you get to know her... she's a great friend to have."
"Sounds like how I would expect Max's sister to be."
Liz's head popped up and looked down, over the edge of the bed. "Why do you say that?"
Sarah was fidgeting with her hands, to which she paid a great deal of attention. "He's - he just seems like someone who's very... intense, who always tries to carry the weight of the world, but... cares a lot about people, too."
Liz laughed and swung her feet out of bed. "That's him, just about in a nutshell. I'll call Maria and Isabel."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lead, Griffon Three. I have something you may be interested in."
"Go ahead, Three."
"I've located what appears to be a crash furrow on the other side of this mountain. No sign of a craft."
"Roger that, Three. Establish a perimeter."
"Copy that."
Griffon Three's Blackhawk came to hover thirty feet over the rocky slope. Black shapes slid silently down ropes and quickly secured the area.
Lieutenant Christian Holst was second on the ground. His SEALs moved like ghosts in the dawn, silent shadows flitting from cover to cover. He quickly glanced over the area and signaled to his 2IC.
"LT?"
"Is the area hot?"
"We'll know in a minute."
Another SEAL was kneeling over the trench with an instrument. He turned and gave a thumbs up.
"Griffon Lead, area is secure."
Within a minute, two other Blackhawks approached from the west, flaring out further down the furrow. Soldiers fast-roped to the ground and swiftly deployed around the perimeter. Other shapes vanished into the shadows of the trench. Holst watched from his end, crouched low with his weapon at the ready. For the moment, all that was heard was the whump-whump of the Blackhawks' rotors.
"First Section, report."
"Command, there appears to be a opening to a cavern. We are proceeding to investigate."
"Very well." Silence.
"Sir, the cave network appears to be fairly extensive. There is an artifact - "
The sharp crack of gunfire rang out in the red morning light. Weapons snapped to shoulders. Automatic fire echoed from the rocky hills, sounding at first in groups of three, then long, sustained bursts.
Silence.
"Command, area is secure. Marines are down - get the corpsman down here!"
"Roger that. Moving." Holst moved for the entrance to the cavern, his SEALs following. The Navy corpsman with their unit was the first in the hole.
The cave, awash with green light from Cyalume chem-sticks, was dominated by a spacecraft that was clearly not of human origin. Marines in desert camo and tactical webbing covered down in the rocks, covering the paths deeper into the cave. Three more secured the bullet-ridden carcass of the creature that had attacked them.
Gunnery Sargeant Jacobs had shucked his shredded body armor, BDU jacket and t-shirt and was gingerly cleaning the four deep, bloody furrows that ran from his left shoulder across his chest. His left arm hung limp at his side.
"How ya feelin', Gunny?"
"Like an alien monster sliced me open fucking Predator style, Doc."
The corpsman knelt beside the wounded Marine and broke out his bag.
"What the hell did that?"
Jacobs winced as the corpsman flushed the wound. "That critter over there got the drop on us... came off the ceiling. I barely missed... aaahh, goddammit... being disembowled. I tagged the fucker, though." He patted the H&K G36 on the ground next to him.
"You should really be more careful, you know."
"Fuck you, Doc."
Lieutenant Holst stood between a rock and a hard place - or, rather, a dead alien juggernaught and the spaceship it flew in on.
The craft was small - about the size of a Blackhawk, he figured. Certainly not large enough to travel between the stars. The thing didn't even have any visible engines. It was kind of unnerving.
Then again, there was the alien corpse. The thing must have been 800 pounds of corded muscle and wicked claws. It was scary as hell. Fortunately, it was also quite dead. He kicked it for good measure.
"How are we doing, Master Chief?"
"It's all in hand, L-T. We're baggin' and taggin right now." His senior enlisted man responded.
"Good. I want to be out of here ASAP. Let the coats coms out and play with their toys - this place gives me the heebies."
"Aye, sir."
****
Kor'val watched the humans with contempt. He stood unseen in their midst - it was simplicity itself to cloud their minds against his presence. Still, he must accord the human warriors honor. They had arrived with frightening speed, captured his ship, and destroyed his ka'bo'ken battle construct.
All was proceeding as he had forseen.
The humans believed that the threat had been contained... after all, if they had found a ship, but no passenger, his presence would have been suspected.
Now, his mission could be achieved with none the wiser. The Royals would be punished for their insolence. And he - Kor'val, First hashashim of Antar, would be the instrument of K'vars vengeance.
~~~~End Chapter 5~~~~