Startropics: Follow The Southern Cross

by Erico

The time: June, 1990. The place: Coralcola Island. After defeating Zoda and saving the Argonian race, what is there left for Michael Jones to do?

2. Morning Tide

STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS

By Erico

CHAPTER ONE: MORNING TIDE

"You always hope as you're crawling through the lair of your foe that this is it. That this will be the last time you have to go through with it. That this time, the wretch will die and not make the effort to come back. That's the wish of any altruistic hero. But why is it made, perchance? To ensure a lasting peace? Or does a part of you still hold fear in your heart? That one of these times, it won't be the demon who falls…but the Paladin?? The battle goes on. And eventually one side will lose. But will it be good…or evil? That is the question no hero yet has been able to answer. That is the question you now face."

-Renvil Farkin, Argonian Warrior Guru

---

June 23rd, 1990 A.D.

6:45 A.M, Coralcola Island

The morning came with surprising clarity for some. Then again, a tropical paradise usually did that to people. And here, on the most blessed of islands in the chain of the Southern Cross, the sun breached the horizon with a glowing radiance that slowly revealed its majesty.

Within the confines of the laboratory of Steve Jones at the center of Coralcola Island, a young boy gasped for air and snapped awake, beads of cold sweat drenching his brow. It was a gasp that made a feeble attempt at a scream, but failed to achieve its goal.

Slowly, the boy known as Michael Jones began to breathe deeply, cutting off his hyperventilation cycle in its tracks. It took him a while longer before his white knuckled and shaking hands released their grip on the edge of his blanket.

"Breathe, Mike." He consoled himself, opening and shutting his eyes several times over. Slowly, the room drew back into focus. Dull shapes gained outlines, the gentle thrum and subtle hiss of the central air conditioning calmed his rattled nerves. The savior of the Argonian race reached one of his hands up and ran it through his mottled hair. "Just breathe."

He sat there for a few moments, then reluctantly pulled himself up and out of the air mattress his Uncle Jones had laid on the floor for him.

"Only a dream, buddy." He convinced himself finally, sloughing off the last of the nightmarish images and turning the room's light on.

The room his Uncle Jones had set him up in was relatively small. Then again, Michael Jones needed few things. His Game Boy sitting on the nightstand was one of them. He reminded himself he really needed to get back to the Fourth World of Super Mario Land sometime…

Not today, though. There was no way he'd be getting to sleep after that nightmare that had awoken him. And Game Boy at this time of day just seemed ludicrous. Which left one option; head out and explore. He hadn't done that fully yet on this island. Never had gotten the time to.

That's how it worked out, didn't it? He thought to himself, shaking his head as he stared at himself in the mirror. Out of all the people in the world who could have gotten enlisted into the momentous task of tracking down Steve Jones, stopping the efforts of alien space pirates, and saving seven space children from certain extinction, he'd been chosen. Little old him. Michael Jones. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror, wearing only his baggy sleeping shorts. Nothing truly impressive. Sure, the trip had done wonders to tone up his musculature a bit, but he was hardly Michael Keaton. He wasn't the model of physical prowess and strength at its peak. A far cry from Conan the Barbarian, all right.

And somehow, I saved a dying race. He harrumphed. In a flash, he dropped a white T-Shirt over his head before he got tired of looking at his pathetic body any longer. The blue jeans went on next, and his trademark sneakers.

He looked around the room again, staring at the empty contents. Aside from his Island Yo-Yo and the Super Nova mace lying beside his mirror, nothing remained to document his travels. No potions, no cleated shoes…not even any horsehides. Broken Joe had seen to that. He doubted he'd need the Super Nova…even though right now, he had the strength to use it, he didn't have the will or motivation. One last shrug of his shoulders later, Michael Jones shut off his room light and walked out to the laboratory exit, the island yo-yo tucked in his back pocket.

A brand new day, he thought to himself calmly.

And still, he couldn't help but break that nagging feeling in the back of his head. Something wasn't right. And he couldn't figure out just what exactly the mystical forces present on this island were trying to tell him.

---

Somehow, Mike Jones wasn't surprised that somebody else on Coralcola wasn't able to sleep that well either. He walked north and to the east of his Uncle's laboratory, to the upper portion of Coralcola's maw, the side to the island's north that opened out to the sea.

In his travels throughout the islands of the Southern Cross, Mike had found that staring out towards the horizon had been his one consoling force. Answers that did not come from the islanders, from Nav-Com or anywhere else was found on the shorelines of the mysterious islands.

Mike remembered the first time he'd bothered to look out to the horizon.

It had been on Miracola. Undoubtedly the largest, and perhaps the most dangerous island he had come to. Of course, it begged mentioning that Miracola was where the tropical storm had spun him and Sub-C to. Sub-C had ended up marooned and half-sunk on the barrier reef far beyond swimming distance(As if Mike could ever swim to begin with…), and Mike had been spat out onto the shore.

Everything had seemed to fall apart then. Everything. It was two days into his journey then, and still he had found no definite signs of his Uncle's presence. His only means of transportation, and communication with the outside world was scrambled on coral beyond his reach, and to make matters worse, Mike was hungry, exhausted, and in low spirits.

As he had sat there on the beach that lonely morning, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Mike had looked out to the horizon. Drawing his hands up around his knees and curling into a partial fetal position, he had stared at the rising sun, and to the fading stars and brilliant moon above.

It was there that my answers came, Mike thought to himself as he walked towards Coralcola's shoreline, snapping himself free of his flashback.

Indeed, his answers had been closer than he had thought. He had just never taken the time to listen carefully enough.

His answers were always there. They were the gentle lull of the waves, lapping up onto the sandy beaches of the tropics. They were the gentle twinkling of the stars, fading beyond sight as daylight turned the dark ichor skies to a gentle cerulean blue. They were the truths that screamed from this paradise on Earth.

And those truths were simple ones. As long as Mike believed, he could overcome any adversity. As long as Mike pressed forward, his quest would be resolved. As long as his heart burned with the fires that had been lit by the test of island courage, he would have all the strength, wisdom, and tenacity he would ever need.

And most importantly, Mike had learned from the simple lessons of that paradise on Miracola so many days before, was this; the powers of the human spirit were boundless. Endless. There was a reason that heroes rose from the ashes of bitter destruction and thwarted evil time and time again. The same reason that Mario and Luigi triumphed over Bowser and Wart, that Link had overcome Ganon in the depths of his labyrinth fortress. And that was as long as the fires of the soul burned bright, the hero could overcome anything. That was the sole defining factor. It wasn't adrenaline. It definitely wasn't any sort of food. It was the power that came from within.

Mica Argos blinked her eyes a few times, then frowned as she craned her ears behind her. Someone was coming. And from the weight of the footsteps, and more importantly, the time of day, that could mean only one person was up.

"Good morning, Michael Jones." She said politely. Behind her, Mike winced at the formality in her tone.

Sheesh. If I didn't know her better, I'd swear ice water ran through those veins.

However, it wasn't ice water that coarsed through her. Strangely enough, it was blood. Blood as red as a human's, but still different in some small degree.

"Morning." He replied back, trying to sound a few octaves more cheerful. "Couldn't sleep?"

"I rarely do." She replied, trying to keep herself from yawning. Failing miserably, she passed it off as a sigh and shook her head. "I'm still trying to convince myself that all of this isn't some dream of its own."

"Now, there's a question." Mike chuckled, sitting down beside her. He took a look at her for a moment.

Her royal Argonian tunic and cloak was back in storage. She hadn't worn it since that first night, opting instead for the more conservative clothes given to her by the islanders. Currently, she was wearing her favorite of the ensemble given to her, a red dress with gold trim. It went down to her ankles, barely showing her supple feet and brown sandals underneath when she was standing. Her hair, a distinctive dark red that bordered on purple, looked more brownish in the dark of early morning. She didn't have it tied back, so it lay free behind her head, gently blown back and forth by the sea breeze. Her dark eyes, usually so cold and reserved, held a sadder, more exposed gleam to them now. She stared out at the endless sea, and the pink horizon to the east. Mike took note of it as well, then harrumphed.

"Red sky at morning…sailors take warning."

"Pardon?" Mica asked, turning her head about slightly and looking up to him. Mike smiled weakly and shook his head.

"It's an old saying that I've heard a lot around here. Old mariners used to believe that a red or pink sky at sunrise meant trouble was brewing."

"Do you think that statement is correct?" Mica asked, lifting an eyebrow. Mike shrugged and looked off to the distance again.

"I don't really put much stock into old hokey wives' tales."

Mica's gaze darkened, and she shook her head after a few seconds.

"Don't lie to me."

Geez…nothing gets by this girl, does it??

"Ok, fine." Mike mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "So maybe there's a little truth to it. I have been bothered recently."

"By what?"

"Nightmares." Mike said simply, fighting off the urge to shiver.

Concerned, Mica stood up and looked into his eyes.

"About what?"

Mike looked at her for a few moments, then pulled his gaze away and shook his head.

"Nothing important." He finally said. A lame excuse, he knew.

"You're still lying." Mica told him flatly.

"I know." Mike replied quietly.

But neither said another word after that. Together, they sat down on the beach's shoreline and stared at the sunrise to the east.

And for the moment, they let the calming waves and sky blur their problems away. For the moment.

---

Coralcola Island had but one village, and that massing of grass and thatch huts was over on the western side of the island. A good half hour's brisk walk, but Mike had gone from the highest eastern cliffs of Coralcola to the village in less time than it took a Super Mario Bros. Super Show cartoon to complete its run (With commercials, of course). As it stood, by the time that Mike and Mica broke free from the rising sun to the east and listened to the growling sensations of their stomachs, the sun had broken over the horizon with a tropical vengeance. The smells of the morning meal being prepared in the village were overwhelmingly delicious, causing the Seattle raised Mike to salivate in anticipation. Mica took it in stride, seemingly still walking in whatever dreamlike state had plagued her since she had been freed from the stasis cubes.

Some of the older boys and men were already out in the inner waters of Coralcola in their fishing boats, catching the day's meat. Mike blinked a few times, then realized that Sub-C was out there as well. He grinned as he saw his Uncle's assistant, the native Baboo reeling in what appeared to be a lunker.

"That's probably the most use Sub-C's seen since I got done with it." Mike commented.

"Pardon?" Mica spoke up, turning her elvish features to gaze at him for a moment. Mike shrugged.

"Out there…Baboo's kicking it around in Sub-C."

"Interesting."

"No." Mike corrected with an even wider smile. "Gnarly."

"Good morning, Michael Jones!!" Came the loud, but good natured voice of Hapo Omoy, the Island Chief. Mike and Mica slowed down as they neared the village's northern edge, only to find the leader of Coralcola already walking towards them and munching on what appeared to be a stalk of some vegetable.

Mica waved back at him as they drew nearer, then sized him up for a brief moment. "Are you all right, Hapo? Usually I don't see you without some meat roasting on a spit."

Hapo winced at Mica's comment, then scratched his curly brown hair, wiggling his mustache sadly. "You are correct, your highness. But recently…"

"What?" Mike prodded, eager for an answer. Hapo coughed a bit, then spoke in a quieter voice.

"My sister has me on a diet."

Both Mike and Mica lifted their eyebrows simultaneously at Hapo's statement, making the Island Chief feel inclined to provide more of an answer.

"She told me this morning that last night she had a horrible vision about my waistline. Until she is told different by the spirits, it seems I'm stuck eating rabbit food."

"Huh…" Mike harrumphed, scratching at his head. "Interesting."

"Depressing, you mean." Hapo sighed, tearing off another bite of his greenery. He nodded his head at the two of them, then walked down the way they'd come from. "You two enjoy breakfast, if you can…I'm off to supervise the morning fishing."

"Be well, Hapo Omoy." Mica called out after him as he walked off. Hapo made a loud grunt of some sort and raised his meager excuse for a breakfast in reply.

For a moment, as Mike looked at Mica, he thought he detected the smallest hint of a smile begin to creep over her face.

No way. The Ice Queen has emotions??

But then Mica noticed Mike's gaze watching her, and that twinkle in her eyes snuffed out like a candle flame. Her emotions once more contained within a face that sought to reveal nothing, she turned back around and gave him a brief nod.

"Come on then. The others have already started." She took off at a brisk pace, but Mike soon caught up again.

As they cleared the last of the foliage and walked into the village clearing, Mike sighed as he looked at Mica's blank stare.

Why won't she open up?

At the moment, it seemed as if he would never know.

---

But while the rest of Coralcola began to wake up and prepare for the day, one inhabitant had already pulled himself from the vestiges of sleep and had set himself into a flurry of research and critical thought.

Professor Steve Jones, the famous archaeologist whose laboratory lay on Coralcola, sipped down another mouthful of instant ramen noodles and readjusted his glasses.

"Damn bifocals." He muttered, setting them back on the bridge of his nose. This was the third time they'd decided to try and drop off of his head, and it was barely eight in the morning.

Reluctantly, he set the mushroom flavored ramen aside and stared down at his cluttered piles of research notes. The words were scattered all over, seeming like the work of a madman. However, to Steve Jones, a shining example of insanity caged in a half rational mind, the scribblings made perfect sense.

Argonian race—Three magic cubes, in reality stasis cubes…

Monsters in the islands resurrected by what??

By the alien invaders??

Only seven children left…Some significance to that??

Ancient ruins must have some importance…too much of a fluke for the escape pod with the stasis cubes to crash directly in its center…

Haphazard at best. Questions posed by a man possessed with the search for the truth, however upsetting it might be…

Doctor Jones smiled for a moment, leaning back in his reclining chair and shook his head.

I'm hardly the Dr. Jones that found the lost ark, am I??

It seemed like some ironic coincidence that the moviegoing Doctor 'Indiana' Jones and his own occupation were so similar, and yet so different. For one, Dr. Jones could never recall fighting Nazis. And his waistline was hardly fit for the exertions that Harrison Ford made look all too easy.

Plus, the last time he checked, Dr. Jones couldn't swing a whip worth his life.

Still, for all the differences, Dr. Jones could safely say that he appreciated his life a little more than Indiana's. For one, his 'foe' hadn't been the cause of World War II. Rather, he found himself pitted against the ruthless suited space pirates and their leader, a cloaked figure with burning red eyes and clawed hands that referred to himself as Zoda…A force that, in the end, had not been defeated by him, but by his fifteen…

No, almost sixteen year old nephew. Dr. Jones reached for his ramen and began to inhale more of the addictive noodles and broth.

Too much of this seems…predetermined. He thought to himself, noting the foreboding pit in his stomach. Why just seven…why not a massive escape ship? And just where did Zoda and the alien invaders come from? If I'm to believe what little Mica has told me, Argonia was a peaceful planet that, despite its advanced state of technology, held onto a modified monarchical system with a firm hand…Just what would Zoda and the invaders have to gain from such an attack??

Dr. Jones slurped down the last of the noodles and dumped the bowl down in the trash, then picked up another loose sheet of scribblings.

Super Nova…a weapon created by the power of the Argonian cubes. But the cubes are not magic…they were merely stasis cubes, so how does that explain…

Mike commented that he felt great power coming from the cubes as he attained them, making him stronger and giving him far more endurance than usual.

But the cubes were not magic. The only thing contained within were those seven children…

Four girls, and three boys. Or more appropriately, three and three. And Princess Mica Argos.

The ruins…blast it, there's something about them that still remains an enigma!!

Note: Wash laundry Thursday. Needs doing.

Dr. Jones lifted an eyebrow at the last comment. He wondered just where his mind was when he'd scrawled that in. Probably stuck between the demands of work and his life.

Sighing resignedly, he put the sheet down and reached for his Apple II computer, pulling up his diary program.

June 23rd, Morning. 1990 C.E.(A.D.)

Work progresses slowly on my research into the mysteries of the survivors of Argonia. As always, there are many questions, but the answers elude me. I know that some of them might well be answered just by asking the children…perhaps a visit to the village is needed today. But still others lie dormant in the ruins I was exploring a month ago. Parts of the cipher found on the escape capsule remain unknown to me, but the answers lie so tantalizingly close…examining the structure of the sentence patterns in 'Argonian', I cannot help but note the similarity to many of Earth's native languages.

One great question I have in particular is the powers that were held within the Argonian 'magic' cubes. In reality, they were but stasis cubes, meant to keep the seven Argonian children alive in suspended animation until such a time that they were called forth again. Still, they held great power. Was it the children that provided this source of power to the cubes, their 'life energy', for lack of a better term?? Or, as I begin to ponder, was it something more??

The Argonians are an advanced race. Doubtless that evolution gave them time to develop talents that (Pardon the expression) are completely alien to us. If their evolution granted them talents beyond measure, then it makes perfect sense as to why Zoda was so desperate to get his clawed hands on the stasis cubes and the power they held.

From Michael (My Nephew, remember??), I now know that the red cube transformed his 'Morning Star' mace he was given in Shecola into a weapon he called the 'Super Nova'. The second cube, holding a blue tint, gave him stamina beyond stamina, enough to push into the very heart of the alien spaceship even as it took flight and defeat Zoda in horrendous combat that to this day, Mike still cannot bring himself to talk about. But Michael made no mention as to what the third cube granted him in powers. Rather, he mumbled upon his successful return the notion that the cube had 'spoken' to him…

The power of the Argonian stasis cubes, the strength that was infused into my nephew…the same power that Zoda undoubtedly wanted...

Just what is it??

The answers are nearer than I probably believe them to be. Most of my discoveries have literally smashed over my head with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. I just need to wait and they will come.

It is the waiting that proves difficult.

Dr. Jones activated the save command on his diary program and shut it down, taking a few moments before wheeling away from the desk.

He looked up at the wall, at the large map of the islands of the Southern Cross. It was hand-drawn, many years old. It had been a present from Hapo Omoy when he had come here to set up shop…

Boy, that was years ago.

Dr. Jones took a few more moments to examine the primitive, yet highly accurate map of the Southern Cross islands, noting once more how 'modern' techniques had nowhere near the level of accuracy as this map did.

And from what Hapo had told Dr. Jones, this map was nearly a Methuselah itself.

The people of these islands know so much. Modern day science's efforts pale to the body of knowledge just beyond our grasp.

Perhaps that was why he had decided to place his home and laboratory here on Coralcola Island, in the middle of nowhere. To preserve this culture, this part of human history before it was lost to ignorance and progress. Those ancient ruins out by Howduyadocola were such a rare find, and Dr. Jones knew that their rate of decay would have doomed them if he had not come across them.

And the more he thought about it, he realized he desperately wanted to get back out there, to continue to decode its mysteries.

Suffering from a little bit of the wanderlust again, eh Steve?? He chuckled to himself. He shook his head and got up, walking out of his office and down the stairs to his laboratory's basement level.

The basement connected to a door even farther down, which led into a natural cavern that the sea had worn away into the single outcropping of land in the middle of Coralcola's gaping maw. It was here that the submarine harbor for Sub-C had been built, in a place of nature's blessing.

Dr. Jones took in the smell of the sea as he opened the door and stepped down into the most unorthodox portion of his facilities. He took a moment to look out at the exit, a submerged hole that only divers or Sub-C itself could leave or come in through. In that respect, this cavern was protected from all of the elements, even while the rest of his laboratory might be blown away.

It gave one pause to think that for as far as man had come, nature still had the power to blow all his accomplishments into the wind, Dr. Jones thought.

The floodlights had clicked on as soon as he had opened the door, so aside from the drilled out portholes in the far wall providing the sun's rays from the east, the cavern found itself lit by the incandescence developed by man.

Steve walked over to the console that monitored Sub-C's status by UHF and ELF(Depending upon its depth) and picked up the walkie talkie connected to the 2-way radio.

"This is base to Sub-C. Base to Sub-C. You copy??"

Out on the open waves of Coralcola's inner waters, Baboo jumped up in surprise at the sudden crackling of the comm circuits. Below, Nav-Com chirped a statement.

"Master Baboo, we are receiving a transmission from home base. Shall I patch it through?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Baboo replied cheerfully, hopping down the open entry hatch and landing neatly beside Nav-Com. He patted the navigation robot on the shoulder appreciatively and reached for the squawk box, flipping it on to active.

"…ase to Sub-C. You copy??" Baboo smiled and grabbed the transmitter, holding the button down as he brought it up to his mouth.

"That's a big 10-4, Doctor Jones."

"HA!" Came the chuckling reply. "You've been watching my Smokey and the Bandit videos again, haven't you?"

"English is such an interesting language…" Baboo replied thoughtfully. "So full of…of…"

"I think the word you're looking for is irregularities." Dr. Jones replied cheerfully. "And yes, yes it is. In any case, you out fishing this morning Baboo?"

"I am. I caught a big one today." Baboo called back, bursting from the seams in pride as he stared at the twenty pounder lying in the aerated water belowdecks.

"Well, that's terrific. I just thought I'd tell you that we're going to need Sub-C in approximately two or three days, so when you're done with it, get Sub-C and Nav-Com ready for a little bit of a long-term expedition."

"Oh??" Baboo called back after the noise squelch ended, clicking his transmission switch down. "Just what do you have in mind this time around?"

"I'm heading back out to the ruins." Dr. Jones called back. "And this time, I'm going to solve the mysteries of that cipher, come Hell or high water. I'll see you when you get back."

The transceiver shut itself off, leaving Sub-C bobbing out in the middle of the water with a slightly puzzled Baboo standing beside Nav-Com.

The fish in the saltwater tank behind Baboo splashed angrily in its prison. Nav-Com chirped what had to be an inquisitive statement and tilted its robotic head up to Baboo for an answer.

Baboo shrugged and put his fishing rod aside, climbing into Sub-C's pilot seat and pressing a big red switch on the controls in front of him.

Above their heads, Sub-C's entry port hydraulically sealed itself shut, blanketing them in the dim and eerie lighting provided by the various gauges and monitors within the submarine.

"Orders, Master Baboo??" Nav-Com chirped.

"Just one." Baboo smirked, pulling down the lever that opened up the ballast tanks of Sub-C to the ocean waters. An eerie sound, like a mutated toilet flush filled his ears as the saltwater rushed in and caused Sub-C to begin to sink beneath the waves. "Prepare to dive."

---

Breakfast was of normal fare for the residents of Coralcola; roasted fish and a steamed form of a maize relative. Most of it was already gone by the time that Mica and Michael Jones finally made it to the island chief's hut.

Inside, under the watchful eye of Bana Omoy were the other six Argonian children, some chattering and others just stuffing their faces eagerly. One of them, a little girl of about seven earth years who Mike recognized as Rozlyn, looked up from her kebab of skewered fish and smiled as Mica drew nearer.

"Hii, Mica!!"

"Hello, Rozlyn." Mica said warmly, rubbing the little girl on the head, slightly mussing up her loose bangs. Rozlyn's hair was a lighter color, almost bordering a light brown in its complexion with only hints of red appearing at times. Mica looked over to the serving table and cleared her throat. "Is there any left?"

A boy slightly on the pudgy side that was thirteen looked up from his third helping and blushed sheepishly. Mica sighed. "Bakusian, you didn't eat it all again?"

"Not this time." He grunted, picking up another plate with six more skewers and handed it to her. "I made sure that you and Mike would have enough." Mica accepted the plate primly, with a slight hint of humor in her voice. "How thoughtful of you."

Mike snatched three of the fish skewers from the plate before Mica could object, then wandered to a relatively empty table. The Princess offered a brief snort of indignation before taking the remains of the plate and gracefully stepping to a table painfully distant from the youthful Earth native.

Mike chewed thoughtfully on the roasted fish, turning his head to the left a little bit and nodding to the young Argonian boy, Giskard, who sat beside him. Giskard looked like an earth child of twelve or thirteen, with a sour and sardonic outlook on life and a natural grimace to match. "How's the fish treating you today, Giskard?" Mike asked pleasantly.

Giskard grunted for a minute, picking out a bone from his teeth. "Mike, I don't understand how these people survive on such a limited diet. All these stupid bones…"

Mike chuckled a bit. "Giskard, you have to understand that this is how they live. It doesn't bother them any, does it?"

"I suppose not." Giskard mumbled. "Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"Oh, you don't have to enjoy it. You just have to eat it so you don't go hungry." Another boy at the same table, closer to Mike's age by the name of Marlin spoke up with a loud guffaw. "But nobody would ever accuse you of liking any kind of food too much. You're not exactly Bakusian, are ya Gis?" Giskard turned a light shade of red before tearing into his food again, shutting up. Marlin chuckled and pushed back his wild and ruffled hair, winking at Mike. "See, you just gotta know how to handle these guys, Mike. They've all got their quirks."

"And you don't?" Came the melodic laugh of the only girl sitting at Mike's table, Amethyst, yet another one of the Argonian seven. She shook out her twin braided head of hair and gave them all an amused smile. How the fourteen or fifteen year old girl managed such a feat this early in the morning, Mike had never figured out. But her positive outlook on life was in such opposition with Giskard's that the two rarely got along. Aside from her dazzling personality, Amethyst's most definable characteristic was that the way her hair was braided made it look like she had a pair of meatballs on the top of her head. "Marlin, you have enough witticism in you for all of us. But there are some days when that's cost you dearly, and you know it."

Marlin baahed her with a wave of his hand, then looked eagerly at Mike. "So, how ya doing today, buddy? Got any big adventures planned?"

Mike lifted an eyebrow as he swallowed the last bite of his fish, then shook his head. "No, not especially. I might go fishing later…other than that, I'm just taking it easy."

Marlin snorted. "Now why would you go and do a foolhardy thing like that? Taking it easy, that's nonsense. You're a freaking hero, you should be out…"

"Be out…what?" Mike queried calmly.

"I dunno, marching in parades, giving speeches, seeing what else there is to do!" Marlin said in exasperation. "It's boring around here. Don't tell me that doesn't get to you!"

Mike gave him a very blank look before shaking his head. "I never asked to go on a crazy adventure, all right? And some days, I really wish I hadn't have had to. Right now, taking it easy, doing what I'm doing…I like this. I need this. I came to Coralcola for a vacation, and I mean to get myself one."

Marlin looked a little defused, and fell into a silent lapse. Amethyst spoke up for him.

"Come on. Don't tell me that you don't feel like you accomplished something incredibly worthwhile…" She tsked him. "Personally, I wouldn't have liked being cooped up in those stasis cubes any longer than I already was. Don't you feel that you got anything worthwhile out of saving us from Zoda?"

Mike blinked a few times, then stared out of the corner of his eye at the far table from him. Mica sat beside Rozlyn and Bakusian, laughing gently at Rozlyn's innocent jokes and giggles. His face, tense from mention of Zoda and the trials he would just as soon forget, softened at the sight of Princess Mica Argos, heir to the destroyed planet Argonia, coming out of her shell again, albeit briefly. Something in her voice, how it danced along with the gleam in her sparkling eyes…

"Well…maybe one thing." Mike mumbled, slowly drifting his gaze around the rest of the breakfast camp before bringing it to settle back on Amethyst.

"So let me ask you, Mike…why is it that you and your Uncle seem so different from everybody else on Coralcola?" Marlin queried. Mike looked at him with a puzzled gaze before the jokester shrugged. "I've been meaning to ask for some time…just never did."

"Fair enough." Mike accepted. "Why do we seem different?? Well, for one…My Uncle and I aren't native to Coralcola, or even this region of Earth. Everyone else here has Polynesian heritage. Us? No, Uncle Steve and I come from a much bigger place called the United States. That's a long ways East of here, towards the rising sun. We're Americans."

Marlin blinked a few times, then shook his head. "So you're telling me…people on Earth…are different?"

Mike laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, Hell yeah. Earth's a big place, and there are more countries and ethnicities than I'd care to try and go over. My Uncle Steve would have an easier time of it, but suffice it to say, Marlin, that you haven't really seen that much of Earth."

It was at that moment that the final Argonian child came to breakfast, passing by Mike's table and offering only the most perfunctory of nods towards him and the others before making a direct beeline for Princess Mica's table. His previous aloof air vanished instantly as his face melted into a warm and dazzling smile, and he called out a greeting towards her. Mica stopped her conversation, then looked up and offered a small smile and a wave towards the young man, who was Mike's age, if not a little older.

"That Ezilian." Giskard grumbled. "I swear, he thinks he's so smooth some days. Like anyone can't see how much of his charming personality is simply an act."

Mike stopped himself from visibly nodding in agreement. Ezilian wasn't a bad person, by any measure…but he'd always seemed cold and distant to him, as if somehow, associating with Mike was beneath him, or something similar to that. Whatever conversations he and Ezilian had had were always short and clipped, if not downright brusque and hurried in nature. Outside of that, there was just something else about the young man that Mike found himself not liking.

Yes, out of all the Argonian children he had saved in his traumatic 'adventure', Michael D. Jones had to admit Ezilian was his least favorite. Even though he couldn't peg the exact reason why he felt so hostile to him some days.

"But Mike, let me ask you…" Amethyst continued, pulling his stare away from the suave Ezilian as he sat next to Mica. He looked into the younger girl's eyes, waiting for her to continue. "If Earth is such a big place…Is Coralcola an important region of it?"

Mike mulled over a reply in his head for a few seconds before the answer came to him. "No, Coralcola's not big at all. In fact, I'd never heard of it until I got my Uncle Steves' invitation to spend my summer here. There are much bigger and more important places on this planet than Coralcola…"

Something stopped him just then, a brief smattering of laughter that echoed through the breakfast tent and was echoed in every native, and even in young Rozlyn as well, who laughed for the joy of laughter itself. Mike felt a smile come to his face naturally, as he remembered where he was…a small and secluded community, far from the reach of the rest of the world, and from the dangers of it…where the people still cared about each other.

"…But I'd be damned to find a place that wasn't better for your spirit." Mike finished quietly, offering Amethyst one final smile before picking up a bowl of corn and beginning to eat again.

---

Later that day in the mid-afternoon, the Island Chief went looking for his sister. Of course, he had a fair guess as to her location…she was predictable in her routine, and it was every day at this time that she was in meditation with the spirits.

"Bana…Bana, are you in there?" Called out Hapo Omoy. He knocked on the door to her hut again, frowning a bit. "Bana, would you please answer me?"

Inside, the shaman slowly opened her eyes, staring blearily through the smoke of her fire for a few moments before coughing and standing up, shaking off the intense effects of burned incense. "Come in, brother." She finally said, her voice a little scratchy.

Hapo pushed aside the reed doorway and walked in, looking at his sister for a moment as the old woman, older than he was by many years, took off her headdress.

"What is it that you want?" She asked him, putting aside the niceties. The island chief shrugged for a moment before responding.

"I was looking for Michael, and I was wondering if you had seen him."

Her eyes seemed to cloud over for a moment. "Yes, I have. He has gone down into the tunnels of Coralcola for a while, and he has taken Marlin along with him." She turned and stared at her brother directly. "So why exactly do you need to see him?"

"I come on behalf of Dr. Jones. He has been looking for Mike since this morning."

"Oh, is he now?" The shaman mused thoughtfully. "And just what is the good doctor up to that requires his nephew? Surely, he's not in need of another rescue."

"No, but he wanted to analyze the Super Nova again, and it seems that it has gone missing from Mike's room."

"Such a curious man." Bana exhaled, shaking her head. "His life is not complete without a mystery in it to be resolved."

"He mentioned something about another expedition out to the ruins near Howduyadocola not too far from now, as well." Hapo mused. "Perhaps he wishes Mike to accompany him?"

"Perhaps." Bana said guardedly. "Mike has proven capable of defending himself quite admirably, usually against outlandish odds. Whether or not this is a good thing has yet to be decided."

Hapo said nothing for a moment, choosing to examine his sister's wearied features for a moment. "Is something the matter?"

"Somewhat, but I'm not quite sure of what it means." Bana replied slowly. "The spirits…they have become restless again."

The island chief furrowed his brow. "I thought that they had calmed down after…"

"Yes, they had." Bana agreed. "Which is why it doesn't make any sense." She took one last furtive glance at her headdress before nodding her head towards the hole and ladder in the corner of her hut that led to Coralcola's underground passageways. "If you wish to catch up to young Mike and Marlin, you may go ahead."

"Is it safe?"

"Surely you're not afraid of a few bats." Bana said, smiling gently.

---

Marlin squinted through the low light of the island tunnels, peering around Mike's broad shoulders. "So back when you got started on your trip, you had to come through here first?"

"That would be correct." Mike agreed, his eyes skating left and right for any sign of movement. "These tunnels lead from the entrance at the village to an exit that pops out on the other side of the forest on the surface."

"You know, something doesn't add up here." Marlin murmured, his ears twitching. "There's something scurrying to your right, by the way."

Mike's eyes flared open for a moment, and he caught a bit of movement in his peripheral vision. With an easy swing, he hurled the Super Nova at the offending creature, which squeaked in pain before running off. "Damn rats. But you were saying?"

"Well, if these tunnels are little more than a glorified shortcut, why did they make you go through them instead of just walking to your Uncle's laboratory?"

Mike smiled a bit. "I asked myself that same question when I popped out of the other end, grimy from my fight with the Coralcola Serpent. It took me a while to realize that this was a test, just like Bana Omoy said it was."

"A test of what?"

"She called it my 'Island Courage'." Mike grunted, forging on ahead through the mossy grass of the catacombs. "But what it really was…was an experiment to see if I could survive my first taste of trouble."

"What exactly runs around down here?"

"Rats and bats, mostly." Mike replied, peering around a corner. "For a while, there were some snakes, but I took care of them. And this was back when all I had was that yo-yo, mind you."

"Oh, I'm sure there's a joke about the danger of toys in there somewhere." Marlin jested. "But seriously…you said you could help me with my throwing skills."

"I meant it, too. But we have to get there first." Mike replied nonchalantly. "These tunnels are relatively straightforward…nothing like the ruins I had to crawl through to get to my Uncle. But consider this a challenge for yourself as well."

Mike came closer to the end of the cavern, holding his torch aloft. "Like right here." He let Marlin catch up to him, then waved the light in front of him, to a series of ledges and the murky waters around them. "Like a lot of other places around here, the doorway was set up only to open after pushing the hidden switch. But for instance, here…" Mike stopped himself, bounding ahead, carefully jumping from one land patch to the next until he arrived at one where the grass had seemed to grow over something. With a sweep of his shoe, he brushed the foliage aside to reveal a hidden switch that blended in with the greenery, then stomped flat on it. Behind him, a sudden rush of air accompanied the appearance of a bright, but slightly rusted metal switch only two hops from Marlin. "…You have to press another one before the real switch will reveal itself." Mike turned around and nodded his head to the young Argonian boy. "Now go ahead and try to jump to that one. Once you press it, we can move on to the next section. That's where we can find something suitable for our exercise."

Marlin stared at the leap for a few long moments, then looked over at Mike. "You sure about this?"

"Heck, I did it." Mike chuckled.

"Yeah, but you also saved all of us." Marlin said with a dapper smile. "I'm sure there's a hero's luck factor that came into play during all of this."

Without a second thought, Marlin jumped for the switch and squashed it flat easily, but stumbled in his recovery. Mike's eyes went wide in horror, and he reached out for the young boy. "MARLIN!!"

A loud splash accompanied Marlin's sudden drop into the cloudy waters of Coralcola's tunnels. Mike stood stunned, holding the torch towards the water, watching the ripples continuing to expand.

A few moments later Marlin came to the surface, taking a deep breath of air before letting out a guffaw. "I'm so clumsy some days."

"You're lucky you're not dead." Mike answered, shaking his head in disbelief. Marlin frowned for a moment, out of character for him.

"Now why would you say that? I can swim."

Mike's stupefied look melted away in an instant. "Oh…well, that would certainly help matters."

Marlin swam to the now open doorway and climbed out of the water, shaking himself off for a moment. "Yeesh, it certainly is cold though. Now why would you think that slipping and falling into the water would be dangerous?"

Mike's cold silence said a lot as he hopped from square to square, at last entering into the next room where Marlin's common sense finally kicked in.

"Oi. You can't swim?"

"It's not something that seems right, does it?" Mike confirmed, smiling wanly. "No, I can't. Totally bogus, if you ask me, but I've always been a lead weight in the pool. There's only been one time in my life I've ever managed to flop around with any success, and that really doesn't count much."

"Why? When was that?"

"When I barely made it out of Zoda's escape pod alive and tried not to drown." Mike explained, walking Marlin over to an outcropping of rock and moss in the square room. "In the end, I failed miserably. If it hadn't been for mommy dolphin, I would have been wiped out."

"Sheesh." Marlin chuffed, scratching at the back of his head. "And all this time I had you pegged as the kind of guy who could do anything."

"And usually, I can." Mike replied. "But we all have our Achilles Heel."

"An Achilles what?" Marlin asked, puzzled. Mike did a double take before realizing his faux pas.

"Sorry…we all have our major weakness."

"Aah. Now why didn't you say that instead of some messed up colloquialism I'd have no chance of understanding?"

Mike stared at Marlin for a long pause, until the Argonian youth chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry."

"Showoff." Mike grumbled. "But we're here anyways." He pointed to a pile of rocks sitting on the outcropping. "We'll use these…prime pitching stones I found around the island."

"And what's our target supposed to be?" Marlin queried. Mike smiled and handed Marlin the torch, then walked several meters away to another rock outcropping, where he reached down and picked up several empty tin cans. The Seattle native set them up in a straight row, then turned and walked back to Marlin, taking the torch back.

"I said I'd help you with your throwing accuracy, and I meant it." Mike explained. "Now go ahead and lob one at those empty cans for me. It'll help if I can see your form."

"It's kind of neat how you have this place set up." Marlin complimented his companion, reaching for a more rounded stone and lofting it in his hand a few times before taking a wild pitch, erratic and hastily aimed. "Just how long have you had this pitching range set up?" His rock soared over the targets and hit the wall behind them.

"I like to keep my pitcher's arm." Mike explained. "So I set this up last week. It's easier now that most of the dangerous critters are gone, so that's why I took you here…otherwise, I'd have to improvise another range somewhere else. By the way Marlin, you can take your time aiming your throws. Right now, you're looking for accuracy, not speed."

"Aha." Marlin murmured, picking up another rock and slowing his throw down in his overhand. This time, the rock hit the ground long before the target.

"Mmmhm." Mike frowned. "Yeah, I'm seeing the problem." Mike walked over and put the torch on a wall bracket left in the open, then walked back to Marlin and took a throwing stance. "See, you're using an overhand throw. The real danger here is that you stand the chance of throwing it into the ground instead of straight, which is sort of what you're doing. Now watch me carefully…" Mike began a half windup, then went into his throw in slow motion. "Now watch my hand. My body may be going through with the motion, but my arm is more or less remaining extended, and I'm careful of the direction that my wrist is headed."

Mike's own throw seemed almost perfect to the Argonian accompanying him, and he absorbed every moment of it. Finally, Mike turned to him and nodded. "Now you try."

Marlin grabbed another rock, taking his time in the windup and mimicking Mike as best he could. The stone he threw soared through the air, hitting the top edge of the leftmost can and sending it clattering to Earth. Mike grinned. "Attaboy."

"Not really." Marlin chuckled, lofting another stone in his hand. "I was aiming for the middle can."

"Bummer." Mike winced. "Oh well, you'll get better with practice."

"How long have you been pitching in this game called 'baseball' again?"

"Eight years."

"…Yeah. This is gonna take a while, isn't it?"

"It all depends, Marlin." Mike said optimistically, clasping a hand on his friend's shoulder and smiling at him. "It all depends."

Behind them came a loud splash and a grunt of displeasure. Mike and Marlin exchanged surprised glances before running back the way they had come with the torch, and Mike remained vigilant, keeping one hand on the Super Nova.

"What the…Oh, for crying out loud, Hapo, you didn't need a bath THAT bad." Marlin chuckled as the dark skinned island native broke the water's surface and kicked his way to the shore. Mike resisted the resurgence of fear in his gut and smiled at the slightly bumbling chieftain.

"Laugh all you want, you two." Hapo grumbled. "I didn't think I'd have to come this far just to find you, Michael."

"What can I say." Mike shrugged. "I'm a tough guy to keep a hold of. So what's new, chief?"

"Your Uncle wanted to see you." Hapo explained as he climbed out of the water, shaking himself off a bit. Marlin cringed at the native's quivering fat rolls, but wisely kept his jokes silent. "Aah, so that's where it is." He pointed to the silvery chained mace in Mike Jones' hand. "He wanted to do some more examinations on that."

"What, this?" Mike queried back, puzzled. He held his prized weapon aloft, then looked at Hapo again. "Why?"

"Your Uncle is a man obsessed with discovery, you should know that." Hapo said, smiling with a twinkle in his eye. "Honestly though, ask him. He's in his laboratory, as far as I know. But why were you two down here anyway?"

Mike jerked a thumb at Marlin. "This fella here wanted to work on his throw some."

"I see." The island chief grunted. "Even so, these caverns are not suitable for youths out for leisure."

Marlin frowned. "Now why is that?"

"These Caverns were used many years ago for the Tests of Island Courage…Mike here was the last person to take that test. Many dangerous creatures roam around."

"Naaw, not anymore. That's bogus." Mike replied easily. "I took out the C-Serpent and everything else here, really. Besides, things have quieted down since…well, you know."

Hapo chose to remain silent on that, instead turning around and walking back the way he'd come. "Come on, you two. Places to go yet today."

Marlin groaned. Mike rolled his eyes. They still followed the Chief out, though.

"I'm sorry we had to cut our practice short, Marlin." Mike apologized, as they neared the exit. Marlin shrugged in reply.

"You've given me a headstart, at least. I think I can work on it myself from here." He seemed to think for a minute, then snapped his fingers. "Oh! Before I forget, me and the others are planning a little party tonight at the campfire."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Well, everyone's always so curious about us…so we figured we'd share some of our favorite traditional music and stories with you." Marlin said, an easygoing lilt in his voice.

Despite the sudden bright light of the tropical sun hitting them as they came closer to the cavern's exit, Mike smiled.

That didn't sound half bad.

---

Dr. Jones had his nose buried in sourcebooks, and didn't pay much attention when there was a knock on his door. Not even looking up from the text of ancient scripted languages, he grunted and pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "Come in."

Mike calmly opened the door to his Uncle's research library, looking around with relative wonderment. "I don't recall ever paying much attention to this place before."

Dr. Jones finally looked up from his work and smiled at his nephew. "Aah, Mike. Hapo found you, I see."

"Yup." Mike said easily, pulling the Super Nova from the lanyard loop of his blue jeans. "I hear you want to take a closer look at this thing."

"That I certainly do." His Uncle said softly, taking the powerful weapon from Mikes' hands and lofting it from side to side before resting it down on a white plastic table. "Unfortunately, I'm still waiting for a replacement fuse for my electron microscope."

"Your what?" Mike said, lifting an eyebrow. "Uncle Steve, I thought electron microscopes were expensive."

"Almost prohibitively, yes." Steve Jones said with a smile. "Luckily, I have some friends in the field, and the one we received on grant is used by scientists for a 800 kilometer radius. So I just consider myself lucky they set up shop here and not somewhere else. I plan to use it to examine this 'Super Nova' of yours at a near atomic level…"

"You figure it has secrets to hide?" Mike guessed. Dr. Jones pushed his glasses up farther along the bridge of his nose.

"Induvitably. Mike, ever since I found those ruins, the mysteries continue to add up. But I'm coming closer to understanding matters." He tapped on Mike's weapon. "This is another part of it."

"Have you asked the kids? They may be able to tell you something." Mike offered helpfully.

"I was planning on it eventually." Dr. Jones replied easily. "But what was more important, at least for the past fortnight in my mind, was getting them settled in." He leaned back in his seat. "Though even that is a process that may never fully occur."

Mike frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Mike, you saved them from a horrific fate, that's to be sure." Dr. Jones explained. "But even though you prevented them from falling into Zoda's hands, the fact still remains that their world is, if we are to believe what little we know, gone. The civilization they once knew, their very homes and families have been erased from existence. And now they're here, on a planet far, far from where their home once was, in a place so very foreign. No matter how kindly we treat them, no matter how welcome we try to make them feel, at some level they will always be outcasts."

Mike's eyes dimmed a bit. "I didn't think they were all so bummed out. Well, Mica maybe, but…" He stopped himself and shook his head. "Anyways. I gotta get going, Uncle Steve, so…"

"Wait." Dr. Jones said quietly, lifting a hand. "What is it that you were trying to say about Mica?"

Mike paused, tilting his head to the side. "It's just that…Geez, it's like she's two different people."

Dr. Jones frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Around everybody, around the other Argonians, even around you and the other islanders, she comes off in control and pleasant, if not content. But the times that I've found her, found her alone without anybody else around, she's always staring off into empty space…as if she were thinking about something. Like…She's sad."

"She most likely is." Dr. Jones nodded. "Mike, do you want my advice?"

"Advice about what?"

"About how to get her to warm up to you." Dr. Jones said. Mike jerked his head up and looked dumbfoundedly at his Uncle. Steve Jones merely smiled. "You're not one for people skills, I've noticed." Mike lowered his gaze and tapped his knee.

"So what am I doing wrong?"

"You're not doing enough." Dr. Jones explained. "She has her secret fears…we all do. If you want her to relax, you have to air out your own. Give her a reason to trust you. I think you'll find that whatever wall she's been trying to build up then, at that point, won't need to be there."

Mike thought over it for a moment, then harrumphed. "Some days, Uncle Steve, you surprise me."

"Not all archaeologists keep their heads buried in old musty books." Dr. Jones said with a smile. "We do have lives of our own. Now then, get going you scamp. I've still got some other sources to check on my latest hunch."

Mike nodded with a smile and wandered off, yet paused at the doorway and turned around. "Oh, and Uncle Steve?"

"Yes?" Dr. Jones said, not looking up from his text.

"You might think about coming into the village tonight…According to Marlin, he and the other Argonians are planning a little get-together. They're going to be talking about Argonia and some old myths from their culture. It could be fun."

Intrigued, Steve Jones looked up, an odd smile on his face. "It could also be an incredible source of information. I'll be there."

Mike grinned and flashed him a thumbs up, then darted out of the library.

Steve Jones went back to his book, shaking his head. "Yes, this will be interesting indeed…"

---

Late that night, as the flames of the bright Pacific sun dipped below the horizon and gave way to pink, then purple, then dark indigo blue starry skies, the campfire of Coralcola continued to blaze.

Around the burning embers sat the natives of Coralcola, at last beginning to wind down from the feast of fish that the sailors had caught during the day. Only Hapo, who looked mournfully at the last of the grilled fish before Bakusian grabbed the skewer, seemed not to be enjoying himself, but Mike reminded himself that that was due to the vigilant diet program of the Chief's sister.

The natives had even received entertainment. Bumbling Bakusian, along with the flippant Marlin, had performed a brilliant comedy routine that cut across their cultural boundaries and set the tone for the evening. Little Rozlyn had then dazzled all present with a childhood lullaby she remembered fondly from Argonia, finishing it with tears in her eyes as she, like the others, slowly remembered all that they had lost.

Giskard had remained silent throughout the show, but even his somber demeanor had been fractured a little at Rozlyn's song. What Mike noticed more about his reaction was the quiet contentment the boy obtained as Amethyst recounted for the natives the Argonian creation myth.

"…and so it was that we were made. The stars themselves had sent their children to Argonia and blessed them with life and new forms. Forever would we always look to the stars for guidance and solace; to the stars, our creators."

She finished with a low bow and a graceful curtsy, and everyone began to clap. Mike chanced a furtive glance in Mica's direction. She clapped as well, but still there was the look in her eyes of distraction, of a deeper internal thought.

"Children, this has been wonderful." Bana Omoy finally spoke, looking around the fire. "I thank you for sharing the gifts of your people with us. It has been a night that few will forget."

"Oh, there you go again, always being so dramatic." Marlin chuckled, prompting scattered giggles. "But you're welcome. As for us, I think it's time that we went to bed…"

But one of the Argonian youths stood up, the eldest, Ezilian, and shook his head. "Now just wait one moment…I don't think we're completely done. Why, we haven't heard from our fair Princess Mica all night!"

The other Argonian children paused before turning their attention on a surprised Mica, cheering her to stand and speak. Ezilian smiled a dazzling smile at her and folded her arms. "Now, now. Everyone knows you tell the best stories. So go ahead, Mica. Impress us."

"This is hardly the time or place to be showing off." Mica countered defensively.

Mike turned his head to look at her, but out of the corner of his eye, he could catch Uncle Steve, who gave him a sidewards glance before quietly shrugging.

"Oh, don't be so modest." Ezilian smiled. "I don't think you're getting out of this one, Mica. Please, a poem at least."

Mica shut her eyes for a moment, then shook her head and stood up.

"If you all are that desperate to hear something from Argonian culture from me…then I have but one example to give."

The campfire fell silent, and all eyes and ears focused on Mica, who stood alone as Ezilian sat back down.

"In my people's culture, we hold many things dear to our hearts. As Amethyst has said, our myths and legends are among those treasured artifacts. Perhaps…even the most important part of our heritage. The Argonians have always been dedicated to the stars above us, even from earliest recorded time. And yet the few legends we have passed down from generation to generation go back farther than that, always carefully preserved in their original form. In a very real sense…our myths and legends are not that, but accurate accounts of our ancient past. The story I am about to tell you all is one such story. In our traditions, our great circles, no tale is as important, as repeated, as sacred, as this one. It speaks of our people in their darkest hour…and how that great threat was overcome."

Mike, like all the others there, found himself entranced by the quiet sway and flow of Mica's voice, enchanted by the unrehearsed clarity with which she spoke. Even the fire seemed to dim down a few motes in reverence of the solemnity which befell them all. Mica shut her eyes for a few moments, drawing her hands together close in front of her chest for support. She took in a full and deep breath of air, then opened her eyes and began to speak.

"Long, long ago, when the stars still seemed new, and our ancestors were just beginning to rise from their infancy, life was hard, but satisfying. The people who would one day call themselves Argonians lived and farmed, played and laughed, and enjoyed life. There was a peace unlike any known today, and though quarrels arose, war and deliberately inflicted suffering were concepts unknown to them." Mica shook her head, her face growing more grave. "It did not last. On a day that became known as the Sun's Loss, the stars gave birth to a new force. Flying, flaming tears from the stars crashed into the ground we lived on and brought life from. The night seemed eternal, and the light of day vanished. From the tears of the night and the stars of night came horrible creatures unlike any seen before. Where they went, destruction went with them. Until the arrival of the Star Devils, Argonia did not know anguish and despair. They proved impervious to all the forces that were hastily mustered against them, rising against the fledgling militias and scattering them one by one. Villages were burned, our people scattered like sand in the wind's currents. The Star Devils were immune to all our limited weapons. Day eventually came, but now, it no longer mattered. Whether in day or night, to venture in open sight meant almost certain annihilation. The Star Devils walked the surface, controlled it. Our people now hid, spread like seeds, not knowing how many of their kind still lived, and who had died. Terror fell on us, and we cried to the stars we had always praised, asking how we had come to deserve such an end. And our ancestors did indeed believe it was the end."

Nobody breathed then as Mica paused, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. In the dim radiance of the night and the crackling embers of the fire, Mike could swear he felt as though he was going to that place, and that dark time. So inspiring was Mica's melodious voice as it recounted the tale that the other Argonian children began to gently sway back and forth.

"But in the far north, where the Star Devils did not go because of the cold, in the north, where the true light of the stars arrives untainted by our planet's protective breath, and shimmers and dances in true sacred radiance, in the north, which remained uncharted and unknown to the Argonians...A sole Argonian...an Argonian who would become the most famous of all...Prayed and waited for the answers, for some salvation. He was known as the Starseer."

She paused for effect, looking out on them all before continuing.

"The Star Devils had driven our people underground, huddling in the smallest of groups. We were afraid to emerge, afraid to fight them, to face them. Nothing we did could stand against their wrath, their power. Nothing we fought with could harm them. We had become a dying race. The stars above, the very things we had once held reverence for, had cast our doom upon us. We despaired and slowly waited for the end, not knowing if a slow death by entombment or a quick one at the Star Devils' arms was better. But one did not despair. Nobody remembers what his true name had been...but as our people would later whisper, he was the sole survivor of one of the northmost villages, a young man whose heart and resolve was tempered in the flames and wreckage of his friends and family and home. Alone, a hermit in the mountains, he prayed to the stars for guidance, for aid. He prayed for the knowledge and abilities to strike back at the Star Devils, to save his people. The stars had not abandoned our people...for after a time, they finally spoke to him. They gave him the insight to see the weaknesses of the Star Devils, the courage of a warrior to exploit them...and a weapon for a savior. Cast down from the heavens came a weapon that was as cold as the mountain, as bright in the moonlight as a mirror, and as dangerous as a star bridled back only by a length of chain."

At that, the spell momentarily broke over Mike, who suddenly felt a strange sense of familiarity with the weapon that Princess Mica described. He looked over to his Uncle Steve, who also shared a similar look of recognition. He looked straight at Mike and slowly nodded his head, and at last Mike felt a strange pounding in his heart.

Her description could have easily fit his Super Nova.

"The stars told him it was to be called Ellini. And as he would become known...his name was changed to the Starseer." She dropped her hands to her sides before going on.

"Ellini is Argonian for 'the one who shines'. And it was there that the Starseer and Ellini held their greatest strength. What made the Starseer unique was that he could see the Star Devils as they truly were…unfazed by their shields of fear, their monstrous forms, he looked into the reaches of their souls and found their weakness. Yet it was Ellini that gave him the strength to exploit their unifying flaw. Area by area, the Starseer wandered, destroying the Star Devils and driving terror into the monsters' hearts. And so it was, that after countless battles, a weary Starseer at last succeeded, and the Star Devils, now but a former shadow of their once terrifying selves, fled Argonia, banished by the Starseer. Slowly, the populace emerged from hiding. We were small in numbers then, for the Star Devils had enacted a heavy toll…but the Starseer had saved us, and we rejoiced in our new lives. It was not long after, as our people began to rebuild their lives and our world, that the Starseer vanished. All that he left behind was Ellini, and a parting message; "When darkness returns, and the Argonian people once again face their darkest hour, I shall return." It was years later that Ellini suddenly grew bright as the stars above, and then vanished back into the heavens. We mourned the passing of the Starseer, who spent his life alone, without company, without praise. When Ellini left, it was the sign of his death, for the two were linked. None but the Starseer could wield Ellini at its full strength." Mica paused once again, then nodded her head quietly.

"Our people began to grow as numerous as the stars once again. But no matter how many years passed, we remembered well the terror that the Star Devils had brought, and we remembered well the noble sacrifice made by the Starseer to save us. And so, to this day, we carry his story in our hearts. The story of the Sun's Loss…and the Starseer."

The spell over them all broke at last, and the islanders cheered and applauded. But Mike, who held back his own praise for a moment, noticed something peculiar.

None of the Argonian children were clapping either.

And all the boys were looking at him with peculiar scrutiny.

Mica took a slight bow, then offered a weak smile to them all. "And there's my donation for the night."

Bana cleared her throat and nodded in approval, then looked around. "I believe it's time we got these youngsters to bed. The night is already growing late."

Everyone else seemed to murmur in agreement before shuffling off. Mike picked himself up and walked over to the Argonian boys, blinking a few times at Marlin.

"What's wrong, Marlin?" Marlin seemed to fall into deep thought for a moment, then tried to speak. Ezilian put a hand on Marlin's shoulder, frowning.

"Never you mind, Mike. It is nothing that concerns you, I'm sure." The brash 17 year old looking Argonian spoke with such brusqueness that the young Earth teenager immediately felt a flare of hostility ignite within him towards Ezilian. "Come on, Marlin, our foster family will be worried if we don't arrive soon."

Marlin exhaled for a moment, and then nodded in quiet agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mike." The youngster said, in a quiet and subdued voice. Mike offered a brief nod to Marlin before looking back at Ezilian. The elder adolescent merely stared back for a moment before turning to Princess Mica, his face instantly transforming into a smile.

"Princess Mica, that was a most excellent reading. May you have pleasant dreams this night."

"Just go to bed, Ezilian." Mica replied, shaking her head with a small smile. "You don't need to impress anybody here."

She turned and joined up with Bana Omoy, and the two went off towards the shaman's hut. Ezilian turned about and began to stroll towards his own hut with Marlin, and all the others similarly dispersed.

Mike stood by the central campfire as his Uncle came up next to him and sighed.

"Well, you were right, Mike. This was most definitely worth coming to the village for."

"You caught that thing about Ellini, too…" Mike mumbled. "About how…"

"About how your Super Nova resembles their mythical weapon?" Dr. Jones finished. "Yes, I did. I also caught that while Marlin seemed about ready to tell you their reason for looking at you strangely, young Ezilian seemed fit to stop him. It seems that there are some aspects that are known to them…which they don't care to share with us right now."

"Don't they trust us?" Mike asked, disheartened, shaking his head. Countless moments later, he could still feel the chill wind from Ezilian and Mica.

"It's only been two weeks." Steve Jones replied with quiet resignation. He settled a strong hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Give them time to grieve and settle."

Mike shook his head. "I'm beginning to get the feeling that it doesn't matter how long we give them. No matter what we do…they'll always see us as outsiders."

"Strangers in a strange land, Mike." His Uncle said calmly. "They only have themselves to keep the memories of their home alive. I told you this earlier."

"I know you did, Uncle Steve." Mike nodded. "But…"

Quietly, Mike separated from his Uncle and started the long walk back towards the laboratory.

The archaeologist adjusted his glasses, shutting himself away from guesses of what sort of torturous thoughts were arcing through his nephew's mind, and back into the safe and secure world of his explorations and mysteries. He only spent a few moments considering his own trials before he returned to Mike's, sighing in exasperation.

"Mike, a lot of things must be in doubt for you right now." He started his own slower pace towards his home and laboratory. "But just be true to yourself, and never lose sight of your heart's wishes." He said it quietly, knowing that Mike could not hear him, and he would never say it to him when he got back.

The natives on this island looked to the Southern Cross for guidance and solace.

It struck him as odd that this native custom would find a cousin in the Argonian's own beliefs. If such an advanced civilization could hold such a primitive source of comfort…

Then perhaps the shaman Bana Omoy wasn't so far off base when she told people to look to the stars.

---

June 24th, 1990 A.D.

3:42 A.M. Coralcola Island

Mike had the same dream again. It was worse this time, though…he'd woken up feeling as though he was still torn apart. The nightmare fresh in his memory, the quiet of his room had not soothed him. So he had put on his clothes, freshened up for the day, and wandered to the sandy shores on the north end of Coralcola once again.

He was alone for what he estimated was close to half an hour. He sat with his feet in the sand and his body sitting on the last fringe of grass, feeling the cool dew moisten his jeans and the dry sand sift through his toes. His shoes and socks sat beside him, abandoned but not forgotten. The gentle lull and roar of the waves below, rippling against the almost white beach seemed majestic when added to the stars above. Mike decided then that this place, all of Coralcola in fact, had a pristine quality to it. In Seattle, it rained all the time. Other places, smog was so thick over cities that it blanketed the skies in a permanent haze. But here, where the fast paced world didn't exist, where the highest technological advancements were found only in his Uncle's laboratory, life moved slower. Life moved at its own pace, not the pace that civilization set for it.

"I see you're not the only person who still has trouble sleeping." Said a quiet and subdued voice. Mike jumped with a start, turning about and looking towards the sound of the voice in shock.

It was Mica who stood behind him in a less used blue dress, glancing at him for a brief moment in that inscrutable gaze she had before tilting her head up towards the horizon. "I didn't think that in a place like this, one could be bothered by nightmares."

Mike turned back to the sea, mimicking her own gaze without an order. "It doesn't seem possible…I mean, it's so peaceful here." He replied in implied agreement.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was more subdued, less cocky at nearly four in the morning. Perhaps with nobody else around, she no longer cared about maintaining an act.

Whatever the reason, she sat down next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest and watching the surf as well. Mike didn't say anything for a few moments, not quite sure what to say. His Uncle's voice still rang in his mind, though, alerted from its coma by her sudden arrival.

Give her a reason to trust you…

"You asked me yesterday morning what exactly my nightmares were about." Mike finally said. Mica blinked a few times, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye without moving her head. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"We all have our secrets."

"I know that, it's just…" Mike began, struggling for more words as what little rehearsed speech he had finally ran out.

"Just what?"

"It's just…I wish you weren't so cold about yours." He finally admitted, not quite sure why he had said that, but realizing a moment later that it was exactly what he had wanted to say.

Mica's eyes fell a little. "You think me bitter?"

"I think you're afraid to open up to anybody." Mike said. "That's something I want to change."

Mica pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"Do you remember your first night here?"

"Vividly."

"Then you remember what happened after everyone else went to bed…and you and I couldn't." Mike concluded.

Mica nodded somberly. "You found me on this beach."

"I did." Mike agreed. "I find it kind of funny, though…" He began, smiling a bit. Mica turned her head to look at him.

"What?"

"We keep finding ourselves here." Mike finished, smiling back at her before looking back out to the waves. "Like there's something here…something we can't describe, but which we need."

Mica thought for a long pause before finally speaking again, quieter than before. "This beach…it reminds me of a beach I knew on Argonia." Mike's eyes widened, but he didn't interrupt, and she continued. As if something had broken inside of her, a memory finally came tumbling out of the vault in her mind. "I used to play on it as a young girl…collecting shells from the sea life that washed on shore. When I grew up, I used to walk along it to collect my thoughts. But it was always there, comforting me. Whenever I fell in doubt, whenever things didn't seem right, I would go back to it. I always felt safe there, and I always left feeling better than when I had come."

"And coming here…kind of gives you the same feeling?" Mike finally ventured.

Mica nodded, the tension draining from her face. "I don't know how to explain it…but this place has that same quality."

Mike harrumphed a benign affirmative, mulling over things in his mind. "Mica…can I ask you a question?"

She looked at him for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose…something tells me you have more than one, though."

"I just have the one for now." Mike answered. "I don't even know why I'm asking this, you probably won't have an answer…"

"Try me." She said curtly.

"All right." Mike said back, smirking a bit before resuming his blank look. "When I was on Zoda's spaceship, and I was collecting those cubes that you guys were in…They helped me."

Mica didn't move.

"The first one, which was red…the moment I touched it, it was like I could feel a power running through me, into my weapon. That's how I got the Super Nova, Mica. It transformed my Morning Star. And the second one…I'm still feeling the power boost I got from that one. But the third…"

Mica blinked.

"The third one, Mica…the green one…it didn't give me anything. By that point, all I had was desperation, and I didn't need anything. I don't know how those first two cubes were capable of giving me so much power, and frankly, I don't care. That's something my Uncle Steve likes to wonder about. My question….the third cube talked to me, Mica. It called to me. The other two hadn't done that."

"Is that so?" Mica mused.

"I couldn't leave it. I couldn't. It was almost crying for me. And because those cubes weren't 'magic cubes'…but stasis, or whatever Uncle Steve calls them, which held you…It had to be one of you that was calling to me. I don't know who it was, though…and I just want to know." Mike finished. He waited for several seconds, realizing as he looked at Mica that she was struggling to put a sentence together.

"We're not really sure how the stasis cubes work exactly." Mica explained. "My father…he put us in them as a last resort. Zoda had destroyed our defenses, he had overrun our cities…and he was headed straight for the palace. We were supposed to remain in perfect condition, frozen at the moment of our transformation. But at some level, we remained conscious."

Mike blinked at that. "You were alive?"

"No." Mica shook her head. "We weren't alive. We couldn't think all that clearly. To me…it was like being in a dream."

"But who was in the green cube?" Mike pushed, looking for an answer.

Mica shut her eyes for a moment. "Ezilian, Bakusian, Giskard, and Marlin were put into the red cube. I don't know how their stasis cube could give you your…Super Nova, as you call it." She shook her head. "I'm no fool either, Mike. I also could see how much your weapon looked like Ellini when I awoke, and I can't explain it. I doubt they could either."

Mike fell silent, choosing now to merely absorb everything she said.

"I don't know how the stasis cubes could have such power. Maybe that's why Zoda pursued us all the way to Earth…he wanted to tap into them, leave us suspended forever."

"But your Father…"

"King Hirocon." She corrected him calmly.

"Hirocon, right…" Mike added, scratching his head. "Wasn't he just trying to save you? I mean, you're still alive, aren't you? Doesn't that count for anything?"

"I suppose." Mica said after a pause, shrugging her shoulders. "The fact still remains, though…we don't belong here."

"And you'd rather be dead?" Mike asked sarcastically, growing annoyed at her attitude. "What, would you have liked me to leave you all on Zoda's spaceship, let him get away? It would have saved me a whole lot of grief if you'd have been able to tell me that from the GETGO."

"Oh, come off of yourself." She snapped back, turning to face him. "You didn't know WHAT was in those cubes at the time. You couldn't possibly have known that you were rescuing outcasts, so don't play the savior card!"

"Fine, so I didn't know what was in those cubes!" Mike shouted. "But I still risked my life to stop him! And the fact still remains that when push came to shove, I was the one who destroyed Zoda, and I was the one that rescued you all. And that's DAMNED more than anyone else could have done for you!"

The two sat there, fuming at each other for a few more moments before they turned away from each other, trying to forget the sudden bitter feelings that rose up inside of them.

Mike shook his head, cursing himself. Great way to communicate, bucko. Terrific.

But something in his rash words had been heartfelt. Something in them had struck home in Mica's heart. And that was enough to wash away her own frustration, and return clarity to her mind.

"Twenty years…"

Mike didn't turn around.

"Twenty of your years was how long we had been hurtling through space to escape Argonia, Michael Jones. Twenty years trapped within a stasis cube, unable to move, unable to talk to anyone else…twenty years of having only your thoughts and nightmares and smashed dreams to think about in a near empty slumber. The other children…they had each other in their cubes. They weren't alone. But somehow, the cubes only worked in units of three, and so I was put into one alone."

She shut her eyes, trying miserably to hide the sudden tears that came from her face.

"Twenty years I screamed and no one listened. Twenty years I cried and begged and pleaded to be released, twenty years I wondered if the others were still alive, if Argonia had survived. Twenty years of thought and consciousness, kept in a tortured state of near sleep…My body stayed the same, but my mind grew old. And after all that…can you really blame me for how I act?" She looked at him, no longer caring about her appearance. "I spent my life in solitude. It's not easy to warm up after being frozen for so long."

Mike felt a lump catch in his throat as she said that. He looked into her eyes, and saw the cold flint no longer there. Instead, there was just pain, pain she had tried to hide, but which had returned full force.

"No." He finally said. "No, I can't blame you." He shook his head for emphasis. "I didn't know, Mica. I honestly had no idea."

"Nobody else does either." She admitted, bringing a hand up to her face and pushing the tears aside. "I would have preferred to keep it that way too."

Mike shrugged, offering a small smile. "If it's any consolation…your secret's safe with me."

Mica finally restored her sense of calm, lowering her hand back down and shaking her head. "I hope so."

Mike nodded and turned back to face the sea once again. Mica slowly did as well. It was several moments before she spoke again, more tentatively.

"The third cube you mentioned…the green one…"

Mike tilted his head to the side, still looking towards the waves.

"I never did thank you for saving us." She started again, timidly. "But…without you, we'd all be lost. Me, especially."

"Eh?"

"I could sense Zoda not long before you saved us. It frightened me, it had to have frightened us all. But the others at least had each other. Me…"

She shook her head, reaching for the words. "Michael, the third cube…the one that cried for help, the one that spoke to you…"

He turned, somehow gaining a familiar feeling as he looked at her again. He'd never really thought about it before…but there was a part of her…

A part of her he knew.

"I was the sole occupant of the third stasis cube." She finally admitted, looking into his eyes. "It was me who cried for your help. It was all I could do…Reaching out in blind faith after so many years of faithlessness…To do even that much. I didn't think help would come, and you proved me wrong."

Mike slowly smiled at her, shaking his head. The two finally broke gazes again, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

"So…Thank you."

"You're more than welcome." He replied, his voice soothing and calm. "Somehow…I was guessing you were in the third cube. But I didn't know for sure."

Mica nodded, looking up at the stars. "I never thought I'd be opening up like this…especially to you."

"Stranger things have happened." He said consolingly, staring out over the waves. "But I'm glad you did. I almost was beginning to think you hated me."

"I don't hate you." Mica protested quietly.

"I know." Mike replied easily.

In reverent silence, the young boy and girl let themselves be absorbed into the comforting lull of the surf and the stars. Neither one broke the silence, for neither one wanted to.

And neither one needed to.