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?

3. Untraveled Worlds

STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS

By Erico

CHAPTER TWO: UNTRAVELED WORLDS

"Argonian history has been, as a whole, peaceful. It has been this way since time immemorial, mostly due to the efforts of our savior, the Starseer. The peace that came with the exile of the dreaded Star Devils brought a golden age of civilization and the restoration of the monarchy. Freed of conflict and worry about defending themselves, the unified population of Argonia drew together and echoed their presence and spirit across the vastness of stars and space. Slowly, subtly, the Starseer's gifts seemed to manifest into our people through the monarchy. It was these selfsame abilities that granted us the longevity and wisdom to do what no other before had; seek out our siblings in the Universe."

-Wellurn Teslin, Argonian Royal Historian

---

1970 A.C.E.(Earth Relative Time)

Planet Argonia, Capital City of Arruk-Sen

Screams. If there was one thing that she would remember as the last city burned in front of her eyes, it would be the screams. The invaders had come without warning; they had blasted by every defensive line in both space and on the planet's surface. First hit had been the outermost starstation, Turelin. The casualties reported had been sobering, including Queen Argos herself, who had been there on a goodwill mission. Every city but one had been burned to the ground by the enemy fleet, by the massive explosions and the concussions of lasers ripping through the buildings and populace alike.

And then the armies had come. They walked in full armor, not a single part of their bodies, if they even had one, exposed to sight. Laser pistols and automatic guns flashed in the daylight as they marched on, marred only by the corrosive smoke that rose from ash and burning bodies. The scent of flesh, far beyond charred, rose into the air as a pungent perfume, forever scarring the memories of those who were alive.

Mica had realized early, as had everyone else in the palace, that this was no invasion for land or power.

This was pure genocide.

Early reports…the final transmissions of doomed men and women had indicated that these barbarous invaders from afar did have a leader. That demon was named Zoda.

Another explosion rocked the outer energy shield surrounding the palace. Mica cringed as she ran through the palace, dashing past her father, King Hirocon.

"Seremichala!!" Came his immediate shout, using her full first name for emphasis. She turned, her terrified gaze meeting his. "Stars' mercy, Mica, get to the others! We've run out of time!" His rugged features, usually so placid, now looked haggard and inflamed, but most of all, worried.

She shook her head defiantly at the man who had given her life, brushing the tears out of her eyes. "Not yet, Father! I can't find Rozlyn!"

Her father cursed for a moment, then bit his tongue. After a few moments, another explosion of a laser pulse against the castle's defense shields rattled his thoughts. "Hurry then. Zoda and the invaders are nearly upon us as it is." She nodded her head to his quickly spoken words, but paused as he walked next to her and set his hands on her shoulders. "Mica…" He began, shaking his head, his eyes suddenly revealing the pain within his heart.

She put a hand on his, shushing him with her own nod. "I know, father." I know that we both grieve…for mother.

That silent thought was not as nearly as silent as it should have been, for his eyes grew quiet and he pulled his hands back. If I had known…I'm sorry, Seremichala. I have failed our people.

She shook her head. Nobody can be blamed for the coming of these invaders. All we can do is hope to survive this purge.

King Hirocon took a step back and gave an affirmative shake of his beard. "Hurry, Mica. May the stars watch over you."

Not waiting to offer a final reply, she turned and ran in the direction she had been going. The last she had seen of Rozlyn was around the inner garden. She was grateful for that; the outer gardens were beyond the protective shield.

The screams had ended outside, but Mica could still feel them shaking against her heart as she tore down the hallway. Brushing aside further tears, she steeled herself to this one mission and blocked everything else out. Nothing mattered now but getting to Rozlyn, getting her to safety. Even if safety meant…

"Rozlyn!!" She called out as she reached the entrance to the enclosed arboretum. Another explosion rumbled through the air, somehow louder than the last. Mica bit her teeth; the shield was weakening. The noise came so loudly that she barely heard the weak cries of a young girl. She turned her head in the direction of the sound, shouted out Rozlyn's name again. This time, the cries came louder.

Rozlyn was hiding in the Devnesh shrubs, curled up onto herself and rocking back and forth, terrified and frozen. Quickly, Mica ran over to the young girl, picking her up and half cradling her in her arms. Rozlyn's cries began to subside as Mica's presence soothed her worries.

"Shh…Don't cry." Mica hushed the child, brushing a lock of Rozlyn's hair out of her eyes. "I'm here now."

"I'm scared, Mica…" Rozlyn sniffled, her tears beginning to dry on her cheek. "They say bad men are coming…And mommy and daddy…They're not in the palace…"

Mica shushed her again with a weak smile. "They'll be all right…your mom and dad are strong, remember that. But right now, Amethyst needs you. You have to be strong for your sister too, ok?"

Rozlyn pushed back the last of her sniffles, smiling a bit and nodding. Mica smiled back, then hefted Rozlyn higher and turned around, just as another explosion, the loudest of all, vibrated through the air like no other before had.

Mica felt the vibration resonating through her core, and with a sinking feeling in her chest, knew what it was. The shield had finally fallen. "Mica, what was that?" Rozlyn asked, as only a six year old girl could.

Mica fought back the panic that threatened to rise in her chest and started running, holding Rozlyn tight. "We have to get going."

The central pavilion. That was where the others were clustered. Unfortunately, Mica knew, the central pavilion, standing at the exact middle of the castle, was still some distance off. And with the shield down, that run became even more terrifying, more necessary to complete at breakneck speed. With Rozlyn clinging tightly to her, the young girl's stubby arms wrapped around her neck, Mica found her pace further hindered. But she pressed on anyway, because she had to, and because there was no alternative.

She had just made the final turn around the glossy, polished floors and rustic brown arch-laden hallway when the Invader's one lucky shot sunk in. It might not have even been an artillery blast, either…in hindsight, Mica would recognize it wasn't, but at the moment, all she knew was the deafening explosion as a detonation took out the exterior wall behind her, throwing her and Rozlyn to the ground in a stunned heap as the rubble of polished granite fell around them. Mica could even feel a piece of stinging rock shrapnel skate by and graze the side of her arm, opening up a thin cut. It bled fast, but not seriously. Gritting her teeth against further pain, Mica pushed herself off of the now dust and rubble covered floor, turning her aching body around and looking towards the explosion.

The smoke cleared easily as the outside air and the horrible blood red light, filtering through the fires of Arruk-Sen's destruction, seeped into the new castle opening. A figure calmly walked inside, his arms relaxed at his sides as though he feared no attack.

Through the diminishing haze, Mica could make out his features, and her eyes slowly began to open in fear. Beside her, the spry Rozlyn also clutched tightly to Mica, now whimpering.

He loomed over them, at nearly six and a half feet tall. His clawlike hands rested in full metal gauntlets that protected him up to his elbows, and he walked in an ominous shroudlike cape that billowed around his shoulders and nearly to his iron boots. But most frightening of all was the horned helmet he wore, hiding all evidence of his face, save for two brightly shining eyes, blood red in the darkness that enfolded him.

A low and malevolent chuckle emanated from within him, and Mica felt a scream rise up and die before it even reached her tonsils.

ZODA.

"This foolish resistance ends now, you…" He began, before pausing and taking a more examining look at the two girls frozen in fear among the rubble of his entrance.

Mica could almost feel the dark smile curl on his nonexistent features.

"Princess Mica…I almost didn't recognize you." He started again, a cold sneer in his tone. "I must say that the years have been…gracious to you."

"How…How do you know me??" Mica whispered in terror, her eyes somehow widening further. Subtly, she began to inch herself and Rozlyn away from the Prime Invader, who merely chortled in response to her query.

"Aah, so you don't remember…no matter. You don't need to know anything in order to give me what I need."

Unable to speak in voice, Mica tremblingly willed her mind to emanate her thought. And what is that…

With a sudden snarl, Zoda curled his fist in on itself before flashing out his claws and lunging towards them. "YOUR STRENGTH!!"

---

June 25th, 1990

3:21 A.M. Coralcola Island

With a loud gasp, Mica snapped up from the sleeping bag she was resting in, fighting against the terror that taxed her trembling heart.

Several moments ticked by in the silence of Bana Omoy's hut, with the quiet heartbeat of the island's life chirping outside and the shaman herself sleeping noiselessly, but deeply. The Argonian Princess shut her eyes and tried to ignore the tears that streamed down her face, tries hopelessly to push away the horrendous memory…

Twenty years ago. That had been twenty years ago that Arruk-Sen had fallen…that everything had fallen. It was still fresh in her mind, though…the Universe had lived for two decades. She had remained frozen, as young now as she was then. All that had grown in her in those two decades was loneliness and pain. The memories remained.

Memories that even now, she tried to forget, tried to push away from her.

She climbed free of her sleeping bag, looking around the room for a few moments before shaking her head and pulling off her nightgown, preparing for the day ahead.

When she left the hut in her familiar red dress, the island was still quiet. Mica shook her head. Nothing ever happened on Coralcola. Here, life was peaceful. Here, happiness existed unchanged.

But here was not where Mica felt she belonged. As she walked away from the village and towards the beach to the north that had become her spot of solitude, that characteristic of herself rang clear in her mind.

Mike was there when she arrived, sitting on a dried piece of driftwood with a canvas bag leaning against his leg and a thermos of something steaming up his face. He too had his head turned towards the open waves, lost in his own world.

Quietly she went up and sat down next to him, not saying a word. It took Michael Jones a while to realize her presence and react to it, jumping slightly in his seat before relaxing back down.

"Couldn't sleep either?" He finally asked sheepishly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Mica shook her head. "Nightmares." Mike chuckled in reply and fingered his metallic thermos.

"We should really start up a club one of these days." Quickly, he reached down into his canvas bag and pulled out a similar thermos to his own, handing it over to Mica wordlessly.

She accepted it and looked at it scrutinizingly for a few moments before turning to look at him. He smiled. "It's coffee. It'll help to wake you up."

"Why would I need to wake up?" Mica asked puzzled. Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully before shrugging.

"Well, I suppose you could try and go back to sleep."

Mica quickly twisted the thermos open and took a long sip of the coffee…hot, but not scalding. Mike chuckled. "Somehow I figured that you wouldn't feel like trying to hit the sack again."

She grimaced as she swallowed. "Ecch…it tastes bitter."

"I realize it isn't exactly Mountain Dew, but it's all I could get brewed up in a hurry." Mike apologized. "Besides, you don't drink this for the flavor, at least I don't. It's got caffeine in it…sort of a wake-up chemical."

"Hmm." Mica replied begrudgingly, taking another bittersweet sip. "If anything, the flavor will wake you up." Mike smiled.

"It will at that." He looked towards the ocean. "You know, it wasn't until I came here that I realized how powerful the ocean is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Mike said, blinking a few times in the dim starlight of the early morning. "It does have some sort of power over us. I just never bothered to try and understand it…until recently."

"Did you live by the ocean before you came here, to Coralcola?" Mica asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. Mike shook his head, and Mica simply clucked her tongue. "Then I don't really think you should feel a sense of guilt from not having those experiences."

Mike thought over it for a moment, then smiled and took another draw from his coffee. "I suppose you're right."

Mica nodded a bit before fingering her own thermos again, thinking of another comment. It ended up, after much deliberation, in being a question. "So what's it like…where you're really from?"

"What, my home?" Mike asked back, surprised at her sudden interest. He looked over at her, and found an open but emotionless questioning gaze leveled back at him. More than had been there before. He let the shock fade from his system for a moment and thought for a while, then shrugged his shoulders. "I come from a city called Seattle. Compared to some other cities in the world, it isn't one of the biggest. It rains a lot where I come from too."

"It sounds dismal." She said drily.

"Hey, Seattle isn't all bogus." Mike protested lightly. "It has its good moments too." He paused for a moment before shaking his head. "But…Being around here, something just feels…"

"Just feels what?"

"Like maybe this is the real way to live, and that being in a city somehow makes us less than what we're capable of." Mike finished, his eyes gaining resolve. He paused for a moment, then smiled. "You have a tough time finding Big Macs out here, though. I'd like to see anybody call a Big Mac bogus."

Mica nodded her head again and turned towards the sea. Mike clucked his tongue and followed her gaze. "So…what was your home like?"

"My home?" Mica replied, her voice gaining an ethereal quality.

"Yeah, yours…I mean, what was Argonia like?"

Mica shut her eyes for a moment as her memories, still fresh in her young body and tired spirit, rose to the front of her mind. "Argonia…was home."

Mike waited, staving off an immediate reply. His wager proved correct, and she continued. "Argonia was a planet at complete peace. All the Provinces worked together for mutual existence, and though we were technologically superior, we had few cities, choosing instead to maintain the agrarian structure of life we had held since our earliest days. The largest city, Arruk-Sen, served as the Capital for our people."

Mike blinked a few times. "Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that your entire planet was one big country??"

Mica blinked in confusion. "Isn't yours?"

Dumbfounded, Mike shook his head. "I…No, it isn't. Here on Earth, we have lots of countries, lots of different peoples."

Mica frowned. "Now why would you do that? Why would you purposefully separate yourselves?"

"I don't really know, exactly…" Mike shrugged sheepishly. "My Uncle might be able to tell you…but I guess at some level it's because people around the world have different values, different beliefs, different religions, and different languages that they like to hold on to and feel proud of."

"So you don't have a unified language." Mica surmised. "And your population is divided over issues like religion and beliefs?"

"Yup, pretty much." Mike admitted. "It was just recently that the Soviet Union collapsed…my country and theirs have been in a 'Cold War' since the end of World War II."

Mica looked horrified. "World War II?? You mean…the whole planet fought each other?"

"Yeah." Mike nodded.

"That's horrible!!" Mica said, shaking her head. "Argonia was never like that!"

"So you're telling me." Mike agreed, his eyes quiet. "The common belief that all humans seem to share, though…is that Earth is special and alone."

Mica looked at him. "But this planet isn't alone."

"Yeah, I know that." Mike sighed. "But try telling that to all the billions of people out there. Mica, we're hopelessly divided. A world united underneath a single ruler, a single leadership? That isn't possible here. We've wandered so far that we'd sooner tear each other apart than get along."

Mica pursed her lips, staring out at the ocean and taking another drink.

"What are you thinking about?" Mike asked calmly.

"My home." Mica said quietly. "The royal tutors were good about educating us in history…and something occurs to me."

"What?"

"There's probably a reason that Earth is so divided…and Argonia, before Zoda annihilated my people and my world, was so unified."

"What?"

"The Sun's Loss."

"The wha…?" Mike answered quickly, blinking a few times. Mica turned and looked at him plainly until a lightbulb flashed over his head. "Oh…your story. The invaders…the Star Devils!"

"Precisely." Mica said gravely. She sighed and turned towards the ocean. "Back in the time of legend, my people were almost wiped out by invaders from the skies above. When we emerged and the Starseer vanished from our world, we were drawn together."

"Kind of like…You all realized how important everybody was, and that you couldn't afford to…"

"To separate." Mica finished, nodding her head. "But your planet's never faced such a threat, has it?"

"Not to anyone's knowledge…but if we had, are you saying that…"

"You might be more like Argonia used to be." Mica concluded sadly.

Mike leaned back a bit, rocking on the driftwood in thought.

"So how was the royalty established?"

"It just was. A part of our legends again…true myths." Mica shrugged. "Nobody really knows the exact details of how it came to pass, but shortly before the Starseer left our people and vanished into the wilderness to spend the last of his days, he announced he had chosen the wisest Argonian he knew, a woman, to lead them after he left. She was as intelligent and as beautiful as any woman could hope to be, and they obeyed the Starseer's edict. Until her death, she led the Argonians in reconstructing their lives and their communities, and strengthened the values and beliefs in a unified people that the Starseer had left behind. That woman was my family's mythological founder…Queen Sellarus Argos. After she died, her daughter assumed the throne and continued her work…and so it's continued, until my father King Hirocon Argos."

"Geez...you can go back that far?"

"We kept the memories alive long before we could write. That was how important the stories were to us." Mica explained quietly.

Mike grew silent. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For bringing up a touchy subject." Mike explained thoughtfully, taking another drink of his coffee. "It's gotta be hard to talk about this stuff."

Mica seemed to think for a long moment before shaking her head and also swigging down more of the warm caffeine. "It was hard…but the more I open up, it gets easier. I've been trying for a long time to just…"

"Live and forget?"

She nodded mutely.

"You can't forget, though…your memories, your past…those make you who you are." Mike argued. "Remembering those things gives us strength."

"Maybe they do." Mica shrugged. "There's something else to that story."

"What?"

She looked at him wryly. "Some have interpreted the legends to claim that Sellarus was in fact, the Starseer's mate."

Mike frowned. "His wife? Then why would he leave her?"

"Obviously, that's why it isn't a part of the general interpretation." Mica finished. "Though, it would explain something…"

"What?"

"Why the monarchy was so respected an institution on Argonia." Mica shrugged. "After all, if you believe that the Starseer was the father of Sellarus' Child, what that means then is that the royal lineage carries the blood of our peoples' savior."

"Seems awfully complicated to me."

Mica laughed a bit, the first honest laugh that Mike had ever heard her give to a comment of his. The tension in her face drained away, and for a fraction of a moment, her youthful features looked heartbreakingly serene in the moonlight.

Mike quickly turned to the horizon.

"It is at that." Mica concluded, still smiling a bit. "So my family never gave it much thought…it was much more important to keep the world peaceful. And we had…"

Her smile faded easily, and Mike's heart fell.

"…Until Zoda came."

The silence that hung between them could have dampened a foghorn's bellow.

"Was Argonia just a simple victim of fate?" Mike asked, looking at her. "I mean, one moment it's a peaceful planet where nothing goes wrong, and the next an Alien Invader shows up and starts destroying it all. It doesn't make much sense."

"No…not really." Mica said dimly. "Unless…"

Her eyes widened a bit, as the beginnings of a memory began to assert themselves after so many years of dormancy. She drew in a sharp breath, and Mike lifted his eyebrows. "What? What's wrong, Mica?"

She seemed to be stuck in a rut as the thoughts cascaded through her memory.

"No, no…it…it couldn't be…"

Mike frowned. "What?"

Mica blinked a few more times, then quickly shoved the thought aside. "Never mind."

Mike stared at her for a few moments more, waiting for an answer. But one didn't come. She simply turned her head to the ocean and drank some more coffee.

"I suppose there are some things you don't want me to know." Mike begrudgingly said.

"In part, yes. There's no sense in me talking to you about half-winded thoughts that are probably wrong." Mica said weakly. "And I dearly hope…that this one thought was wrong."

"Things are still all right, aren't they?" Mike asked, concern seeping into his voice.

Mica shook it off, then shrugged. "They should be." Zoda is, after all, dead…

Mike thought about it for a moment longer. Finally, he harrumphed and finished off the last of his coffee. "Well, as long as we're up, you wanna do something?"

"Like what?" Mica asked, as eager to turn away from the conversation as he seemed to be. Mike grinned and pointed south towards the Bay of Coralcola, and the silent waves within.

"Well, I figured maybe some fishing."

Mica blinked a few times. "Fishing? At this time of day?"

"Hey, Baboo told me once that this is the best time to do it. And seeing as nobody else seems to be awake right now…well, it's all ours." Mike continued with a grin.

"You're just looking for an excuse to get me off of this island, aren't you?" Mica muttered softly. Mike merely shrugged in reply and picked himself up off of the driftwood, then turned and headed for his uncle's laboratory.

Mica gave him an annoyed look as he marched off, a glare he seemed immune to as he gave her one last smile and a wave, not stopping his gait. "If you wanna go fishing, meet me at the docks by my Uncle's lab. I'll have Sub-C ready to sail in ten minutes."

Not even that much later, Mike Jones had pulled Sub-C out of its underwater alcove and parked it at the docks by the interior beach at his Uncle's lab. He wasn't all that surprised to find Mica waiting for him, her arms crossed and a still annoyed look on his face.

"I'm only coming along because there's nothing better to do and everybody else is still asleep." Mica said defensively as Mike hopped down from the roof of the sub deftly in front of her, pulling himself erect with his usual grin.

"I know that. But I'd rather be having fish for breakfast than any of my uncles' instant noodle packets. I don't understand how he can stomach that stuff…" Mike shook his head.

Mica looked up at the sub and then back at Mike. "So where's our fishing poles?"

Mike jerked his thumb at the sub. "Inside. Right, Nav-Com?"

"That is affirmative, Michael."

"You seem to have everything planned out." Mica noted calmly, walking towards the sub and reaching a hand for the rails to climb its side. Mike shrugged his shoulders.

"I had the idea to go fishing…but when I started up Sub-C, it was already fully loaded. I guess my Uncle was planning on taking another trip soon."

Mica climbed up the rest of the way and hopped into Sub-C's interior, finding Nav-Com already at the helm and expansive piles of gear and supplies piled up on the rear sub wall behind her. "Nav-Com, what were you planning on doing with all of this equipment?" Mica asked suspiciously.

Nav-Com seemed imperturbed, rolling his eyes back and forth for a minute before spinning his head around in a full circle once. "That request does not compute. Please inquire again."

Mike chuckled and poked his head down from above through the open hatch. "Mica, you have to ask him in his own language…Otherwise, you just get that lame answer." He tilted his head towards Nav-Com. "Nav-Com, report last programmed destination."

"Sub-C's last sailing orders were for the vicinity of Howduyadocola in approximately two days."

Mica stared blankly at the robot while Mike scratched at his head. "Huduyadocola…?" Mike mused finally, drawing her attention.

"What's there?" Mica asked plainly.

"Nothing much, really. A village so small it doesn't exist on maps." Mike shrugged. It took him a minute to remember what else was around there, and then he nodded his head with open eyes. "But there is something I almost forgot…"

"What?"

"The ruins that he found you in." Mike explained calmly. "Or rather, the asteroid with your stasis cubes."

"It was an escape pod." Mica argued defensively. Mike simply laughed.

"After crashing through the atmosphere and half of the island, it sure looked like an asteroid to me." He quit his laughing and relaxed on Sub-C's deck. "Nav-Com, take us out to the middle of the island. We'll fish there."

"Affirmative, Michael Jones." Nav-Com chirped, quietly directing the submarine towards Coralcola's seafilled center.

Mike looked up towards the skies above, where the darkness of night still hung with the stars twinkling like flies struggling in the bluish black web. He smiled to himself for a minute before hopping down the submarine's hatch and landing next to Mica.

Despite herself, she found herself smiling at his good mood. "And why are you so happy? You're not getting any ideas about your Uncles' crazy expeditions again, are you?"

"Hardly." He chortled. "I was just thinking that it's going to be a while yet before the sun comes up."

"And what about that makes you smile?" She replied back as she headed towards the fishing poles.

Mike shrugged as only he could and stared up through the open hatch, still smiling.

"I've always liked sunrises."

---

The menfolk of the island natives woke up as they always did, by the slowly increasing light of morning as the nightshade hues of the sky faded and gave way to a pale peach horizon. As they rowed themselves out into the bay of Coralcola's maw, they were surprised to find the abnormal looking yellow metal fish that Dr. Jones used already in the best fishing grounds, with two figures lazily sitting on its head and fishing without a care.

It was Baboo who rowed out to them and brushed back his wild dark brown hair before whistling and waving, thinking that it had to be Michael and Dr. Jones.

He was surprised as he got closer that he was only half right.

Mike laughed and stood up from his post, reeling his line back in and setting the pole on the broad deck of Sub C. "Ahoy, Baboo!" He called out to the young man who was his Uncles' assistant.

"You're up early today, Mike." Baboo commented drily before leveling a smile at Sub-C's second passenger and bowing. "And good morning to you as well, Princess Mica."

Mica smiled back and even blushed a bit at the gesture, although the fact that Baboo never wore a shirt and his upper body was amazingly well toned probably had something to do with the heat rising in her cheeks as well.

"Aah, quiet." Mike chuckled, offering Baboo a hand to pull him to Sub-C as his canoe came closer. "You didn't come here to make small talk."

"That would be a fair guess." Baboo acknowledged. "Me and the other men came to fish…but I see that you beat us to the best spot."

Mica blinked a few times, then looked at Baboo with concern. "We're not interfering with your daily chores, are we?"

Baboo laughed. "No, we often fight to see who will get here first. It seems that today the best fishing spot is occupied by you. Do not worry, Princess. The bay is full of other places to fish, as the bountiful sea has always kept watch over us."

"Well, you're right about one thing, Baboo." Mike said, pointing down to a small wire frame net hanging beside Sub-C that acted as a mobile cage. Inside swam countless fish, all caught since Mike and Mica had begun. "This is a great spot for fishing."

Baboo took one look at the haul and whistled appreciatively. "You caught all those already?"

"Feel free to take some off of our hands." Mike suggested. "I can't cage them all."

Baboo's eyes lit up. "My, we will be busy drying fish today. We will eat well this morning!"

"That's the idea, isn't it?" Mike said, scratching the back of his head. He was interrupted by a squeal of delight from Mica as her pole bent and jerked towards the waves.

"I've got another one!" She exclaimed, beginning to reel it in with all the force she could muster. Mike tilted his head to the side, still not believing her frail looking body could create that much force to reel in the large fishes she had been getting.

Baboo clapped his hands. "Amazing, Mica! What is that, your fifth catch?"

"Errrhnn…" Mike began sheepishly, ruffling his hair again, "Actually, that's her thirtieth."

"What?" Baboo exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief, and then down at the reservoir dangling beside Sub-C full of fish. "Then how many have you caught?"

"He's caught two." Mica said with a laugh before Mike could say a bigger number. Mike glared at her and set a hand to his waist.

"Well gee, thanks Mica. Don't bother giving me time to make a bigger number so I don't feel totally useless."

Baboo guffawed heartily and slapped Mike across the back with a light tap, which still made the Seattle youth wince and stumble forth a bit. "You'd better watch out Mike. She'll soon outpace you as the hero."

Mica gently shook her head, her soft magenta tinted hair swaying back and forth in the morning breeze. "Nobody can take that away from him, Baboo." She looked up for a moment, pulling the line in even tighter against the still struggling fish as she stared at them with her piercing eyes. They seemed noticeably softer than they had been before, Mike noticed…something had changed in her since earlier this morning. "He saved me and the others, and for that we owe him a debt that can never truly be repaid."

Baboo smiled again and jumped off of Sub-C, splashing in the seawater before climbing back into his own boat. "Well, I'll go find myself another spot. You two have fun catching us breakfast."

He rowed off a fair distance away, and once again Mike and Mica found themselves in the quiet of the ocean. Mike plucked her fish off of her line and threw it in with the others they had caught, then rebaited her hook. "I'd venture that you're feeling a lot better now than you were when you woke up." Mike suggested, smiling at her. He leaned his back against the railing at the stern of Sub-C, resting his elbows on the thin metal as he looked over at her.

Mica seemed to positively glow as the sun rose up behind her. It seemed a moment to picturesque to be true, Mike thought to himself as everything seemed to freeze for that one incredible moment. With a sky of light yellow and orange crowning her face, the shimmering waves somehow providing light to enhance her radiant smile, and the tranquility of Coralcola all around them, he found himself enraptured by her expression, no matter how hard he tried not to be.

"…Mike, did you hear me?"

"Uhh, no, not really." Mike blurted out, blushing a bit as he turned his gaze to the side and stopped staring at her.

She only laughed and shook her head at him. "I said I felt terrific." She sighed and cast her line out again. "Going fishing was just what I needed to calm down this morning…especially given last night." She concluded as an afterthought.

Mike smiled again. "I'm glad I could help." He pulled himself off of the rail and went back to his own fishing pole, throwing a cast. "You get too serious too often anyways."

Her smile dimmed a bit. "It's not something I try to achieve, Mike…I just have a lot to think about."

"Too much, if you ask me." Mike chuffed. "Look, I realize you're still trying to deal with some things." He hopped down beside her, flopping on his rear and relaxing with his fishing pole in his right hand. "But I saw something earlier today I didn't like."

"What was that?" Mica quaffed.

"You thought of something, and then you bottled up again. It's like whenever you try to think about what happened in the past, you shut yourself back into your mind…and nobody can get in."

Mica was silent.

"Aah, maybe I'm just seeing something that isn't there…" Mike said despairingly, shrugging his shoulders. "…but maybe I'm not." He looked over at her, catching her piercing gaze in his own for a moment before she shyly turned away. "You spent 20 years inside of a capsule…inside of a prison created by your own mind, and by your hibernation."

"Stasis." She corrected him quietly.

"Same difference." He shot back, avoiding an aggressive tone. "I've seen you act cold, Mica. And I've seen you come out of that, just a bit." He waved his left arm for emphasis. "Today, I've seen you more relaxed, more at peace with yourself than I ever have. And Mica, that was just radical. I don't wanna see you fall back into your shell."

Mica's line hung motionless in the water, and no nibble came to it. She eventually chuckled and reeled it back in. "What are you, my counselor?"

"No." Mike replied. "Just a friend."

She paused for a moment as her lure came back up and dangled limply from the top of her rod, pondering Mikes' comment. She eventually smiled again, then looked back at him with an affirming nod.

"Thank you."

"For what now?" Mike asked, reeling in his own line.

"For caring enough about me to try and cheer me up." Mica replied easily, taking her bait off of the fishing hook and throwing the worm into the water.

"Hey, we just need to get you out more often." Mike laughed, also relieved to be pushing away from darker topics. But he was pleased with how the day had gone so far, and it showed in the bounce in his step.

It was then that Mica looked to the northeast and squinted against the rays of the rising sun. She put a hand to her forehead and looked closer, blinking a few times. "Hey Mike, what's that up there?"

Mike put his fishing pole away and stepped next to Mica, following her line of sight up to the sky, and the very small black object that slowly grew closer and closer. It took him a while before he recognized it; the sound that followed, a distinctive whap-whap-whap gave it away.

"It's a helicopter, Mica." He explained, with some measure of curiosity. Mica's puzzled glance prompted him further, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry. A helicopter is a kind of flying machine that humans can use to go from place to place. As a matter of fact, that's how I got to Coralcola myself, and it's really about the only way to get on or off the island short of a huge seagoing yacht."

"Well, what's it doing here now?" Mica asked curiously.

Mike took a look at the load of fish dangling from the side of Sub-C, then at Baboo not too far off yet, and then to the helicopter again.

"I really don't know for sure." Mike finally said. He hopped down into Sub-C's belly and offered a hand for Mica to come down as well, which she did. "But let's go drop our catch off to Baboo for safekeeping, and we can go and find out."

---

The driver of the helicopter set his flying machine down on the well tended and large painted white "H" that Dr. Jones had been allowed to put up on the southeastern of the tip of Coralcola, looking around for a moment with a frown in his eyes. He killed the engine on his craft, hearing the familiar drop in the high pitched whine of the overhead rotors, but stepped carefully as he got out, knowing that the blades would remain spinning at dangerous speeds for a few minutes yet.

He calmly pulled his sunglasses down for a moment, peering over their rim before setting them back on his head. The package he had been sent to deliver sat waiting patiently in the passenger seat of the chopper, although he had to wonder why he had to leave as early as he did in the morning in order to get it here just as the sun was reaching a decent level. A few figures were running towards him, though he couldn't hear their exuberant shouts over the noise of his dying rotors. The most prominent one also happened to be the person whose name and photograph he held as ID for the dropoff on his delivery sheet.

"Huh, so he does have a place here…Guess I lost that bet." The pilot grumbled, double checking the rapidly approaching, but winded figure against his paperwork. "That's Dr. Jones, all right."

Dr. Steven Jones came as close to the helicopter as he could safely manage before ducking his head down and slowing his barreling pace. Stumbling over to the chopper's keeper, he nodded his disheveled hair, trying his best to ignore his rumpled shirt and day old pants.

"Dr. Jones, I presume??" The pilot shouted over the roar of his engines. Dr. Jones nodded vigorously, looking towards the helicopter eagerly. "I've got a package for you here from…"

"Let me see it!" Dr. Jones ordered excitably, shaking his head. The pilot smiled a bit before wandering back and plucking out the carefully wrapped and 'fragile-do not drop' marked box from its seat, then hauling it back to the professor.

Efficiently, the deliveryman held the box against his leg and pulled out his clipboard with the notice of delivery held tightly to it. "Sign here!" He said over his engines. Dr. Jones quickly and efficiently scrawled his extended signature on the pad, then snatched the package away. The deliveryman smiled and climbed back into his helicopter, then waited for Dr. Jones to peel safely away from the diameter of his rotors before starting his engines up again and rising off into the midmorning sunlight.

As the sound faded, Dr. Jones grinned eagerly at the box, hardly aware as the villagers and a few of the Argonians, namely Giskard, Rozlyn, and Ezilian came running up to him.

It was Giskard who spoke first, beginning with his almost trademark harrumph. "So what's in the box, doc?"

"The replacement fuse for my electron microscope, it finally got here!!" Dr. Jones gushed, running past him and towards the village. A sharp whistle from his left, though, stopped him cold, and indeed the rest of the villagers who had been trailing along with him.

Dr. Jones turned and saw Mike and Mica standing at the top of the steps that led down to the beach, and he could also spot Sub-C docked by the almost clear white sands as well. Mica looked confused, and Mike grinned and gave a wave. "Hey Uncle Steve, I see you still get things sent special delivery."

A hint of annoyance in his eyes, Dr. Jones calmly strolled over to them still carrying his package. "So that's where Sub-C ran off to…You two took it."

Mike shrugged sheepishly. "Hey, neither of us could get much sleep…we figured we'd at least get some fishing in this morning. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised come lunch. Mica here's a natural at it." He jerked his thumb towards the Argonian princess for emphasis, grinning as he did so.

Dr. Jones exhaled, then shook his head. "Youth. Very well then, Mike. Just remember, that's a very expensive piece of machinery you're driving there."

"You trust me to drive a submarine, and yet the state of Washington says I'm not old enough to have my full drivers license yet." Mike joked. "Don't worry, Uncle. I haven't mangled it yet."

"So it would seem." Dr. Jones replied bemusedly. He looked around, and then jerked his head towards the boat. "Would you mind if I drove it back to my lab? It would save me a walk."

Mike shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "It's your boat, do what you want with it."

At this, the Argonian children approached, with a beaming Rozlyn leading them. "Mica, is it true? Did you catch a lot of fish?"

Mica smiled warmly at the young girl and knelt down to look into her eyes. "Yes, yes we did."

"I bet you caught more than Mike!" Rozlyn giggled. Mike found that despite his best efforts, he could not stop the rising blush of color that went to his cheeks at that comment.

Yet Mica shook her head slowly, waving it back and forth. "No, we pretty much broke even." She looked up at him, still smiling. "Isn't that right, Michael?"

Briefly stunned by her comment, Mike eventually pulled a smile together and nodded his head. "Yeah, that's pretty much right."

Mica turned back to Rozlyn. "Well, then. Would you like to go see what we caught in the village? They're probably cooking it right now." Rozyln let out an excited yelp and wasted no time in running towards the village, tugging on Mica's arm all the time and dragging the princess along.

Giskard rolled his eyes at the sight, pausing as Dr. Jones let out a grunt. "Hmph, this is heavier than it looks. Giskard, could you come give me a hand with this? I'm going to need a second set of hands to get this into my laboratory."

The rugged youth scratched at his hair for a moment before shrugging and walking towards the archaeologist. "Sure. Not like I have anything better to do right now." The two strolled towards the beach, leaving Mike to scratch at his head for a moment as he looked over at Ezilian, whose face now seemed a bitter shade of its former self.

Admittedly, Mike had never really given much thought to Ezilian, short of seeing him as a more shifty sort of fellow. But now as the two stood there alone, the others going their separate directions, Mike felt a strange compulsion to draw a comparison between them.

Ezilian was taller; granted, he was most likely older than Mike was by two years or so…he was certainly older than Mica by a shave. While Mike's brown hair was a permanent mess no matter what he did with it, Ezilian's was smooth and slicked back. Ezilian's face wasn't marred by the blemishes or freckles of youth like Mike's was, and while he wasn't as spry or deft in appearance as Michael, he gave a more imposing sense of overall strength.

Mike eventually cleared his throat. "Well then…I suppose we should be getting to the village as well. Otherwise, Bakusian's probably gonna beat us to it and we'll have nothing for ourselves…" He chuckled a bit at his weak joke and turned, starting to walk towards the village a good seventy feet behind Mica and Rozlyn.

Ezilian sidled up next to him almost effortlessly, and with no sound at all. Mike stopped himself from shuddering, but it wasn't easy. Ezilian was once again tapping into the side of himself that put Mike at a sense of unease. "So, you went fishing today, huh?"

"Yup." Mike said, almost instantly. He ignored the strange sense of tension that rose in his arms, but he couldn't prevent his left hand from clenching into a fist as Ezilian walked to his right. "You know, I didn't think Mica would be that good with a lure, but those fish just wouldn't stop coming."

"Somehow, I think your own luck suffered." Ezilian said, smirking a bit at his minor victory. Mike tried his best to ignore the verbal jab as they strolled on. "Imagine that, beaten by a girl."

"I don't mind losing to Mica." Mike said warily. "What about you, Ezilian? Could you stand being beaten by her?"

Ezilian's smirk left his face just as quickly as it had come. "Reklut, Jones." He murmured softly. "If you could, clarify something for me."

"I'll be painfully honest." Mike said, refusing to let hostility seep into his voice, even though it desperately wanted to.

"I've heard mention around the villagers that you're here on vacation…I'm guessing that means you're here for a period of relaxation, am I right?"

"That would be right, yes."

"A relatively short period." Ezilian emphasized darkly.

"That's also correct." Mike said, hating the conversation more and more. "What are you getting at, Ezilian?"

Ezilian stopped his easy gait and turned to face Mike, staring down at him as he stood a head above the Seattle native. "You're here on a temporary basis, but it would seem that me and the others of my race are here on a more permanent basis."

Ezilian leaned in closer and jabbed a finger into Mike's chest. "And if I were you, I'd do my best to make what little time you have left here without further incident. So you just watch yourself, Jones. I don't like all this time you're spending around Mica, and I don't like you."

"Are you making a threat, Ezilian?" Mike said flatly, staring blankly at the finger that hung mere inches from his chest.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." Ezilian sneered. "Huh, I don't know how I made it this long without scuffling with you." His face twisted into a snarl. "So you just stop whatever it is you're thinking of doing with Mica. She's mine, Jones. And I'll be damned if a lowly schraklik like you does anything against that."

Tensed like a spring, Mike stepped away from Ezilian and glowered back at him. "Ezilian, I don't know what your problem is, and I don't care. But I sure don't like your attitude, or your message. Mica's a big girl, and you're a fool if you think you own her. She can make up her own damn mind about…whatever the heck you're getting at." He shook his head, a little puzzled at Ezilian's intent, but firm enough on his response. "And if you wanna get into a scrap with me, I'd think twice. I was strong enough to defeat the guy who had nearly annihilated your race, and I'd hate to mar that perfect little face of yours."

Ezilian flushed bright red, realizing his bluff had been called. "You don't deserve that power you hold." He growled. "You don't deserve Ellini, or even a facsimile of it."

"Odd way to treat your savior." Mike said bemusedly, folding his arms and continuing to walk back to the village.

Ezilian eventually caught up to him, walking side by side and never once breaking stride. They both kept their eyes forward, doing their best to maintain a sense of normalcy even as it had become finally clear where they stood.

The rest of the trip was remarkably quiet.

---

Despite Bakusian's best efforts, breakfast hadn't been exhausted, and by the time Mike and Ezilian arrived, they found plenty of skewered meat to be had. Ezilian calmly wiped away his sour face, breaking into another perfect smile as the others came into view. Mike managed to keep his own expression at a more palatable gaze of disinterest, walking over and sitting down next to Marlin with a quiet hello.

Mica was sitting with Rozlyn again, and Amethyst as well. Ezilian wasted no time in sidling himself into the open seat beside her with another amiable, but false expression.

"Good morning yourself, Mike." Marlin said, harrumphing loudly and elbowing his friend in the shoulder. Mike jumped with a start and looked back.

"Huh?"

Bakusian snorted a bit, coughing up a bit of his food in the process. Sheepishly, he wiped his mouth and swallowed before speaking. "A little distracted, aren't we? Come on, Mike. I hear you and Mica caught most of these fish, so dig in. You deserve it!"

"Yeah, you're right." Mike agreed, reaching for a plate of skewers and calmly tearing off a bite of roasted and lightly seasoned seafood.

"You seem a bit out of it today, though." Marlin observed smoothly. "What's eatin ya, bud?"

"Nothing much." Mike said gruffly, feeling his stomach growl at last. "Couldn't sleep much, so I got an early start. I think I'm finally starting to pay for these sleepless nights."

"Hmph!" Bakusian grumbled. "I never have a problem sleeping."

Marlin winced visibly. "I should know, Baku. You SNORE loud enough for the both of us."

"Guys, guys." Mike sighed. "I don't need to hear this, do I?" He shook his head. "So what's the plan for today?"

"To be honest, I have no clue." Marlin shrugged. "I've still been practicing my throwing, but I don't know if it's paid off yet or…" He paused and shut an eye, squinting at Mike. "Have you thought of doing anything yet today?"

"Errr…no, my schedule's open." Mike said warily. A small sense of dread filled him when Marlin's grin grew larger. "Hoo boy. What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking we might…throw a BASEBALL GAME!!" Marlin said, his voice rising to a near shout at the end of the sentence. Naturally, all other conversations stopped at that, and all eyes went to Mike's table.

"What's that you're babbling about, Marlin?" Amethyst called over, lifting an eyebrow.

"We don't have much else to do today, so I was thinking we might put a baseball game together. Hey, Mike can show us how, can't you Mike?"

"I dunno…" Mike said, gritting his teeth a bit and looking around. "We really don't have enough of us to make two full teams. It'd be difficult at best."

"But is it possible?" Amethyst called out, interest gleaming in her eyes. "A little distraction might be just what the doctor ordered."

"It'd be close…in order to get enough people to even have a full outfield, we'd have at most two, maybe three people at bat at a time." Mike said, shaking his head.

"Aah, but still we could play at least some facsimile of this marvelous game you have been said to be so good at, hmm?" Ezilian said, a waspish smile curving on his face. He looked around at the other children, and the young island natives present as well, then cleared his throat. "I for one, think that having a baseball game today would be a marvelous idea. Wouldn't you agree, Mike?"

All eyes on him, Mike finally realized how trapped he was. The eager smiles of Marlin and Amethyst were now joined by the bright eyed stares of Rozlyn and even Bakusian. And all the while, Ezilian simply leaned back and folded his arms, daring Mike to squash the idea with a triumphant grin.

"I wouldn't mind learning how to play myself, really…" Mica finally added, breaking the empty air.

Mike bowed his head and sighed for a minute, then shook it and shrugged weakly. "All right. We'll start at six tonight then, after dinner."

The hurrahs rose up with such force that Mike almost reflexively reached to cover his ears. Marlin punched him in the arm and laughed. "Man, I just KNEW you'd be up for it. Oh, it's gonna be fun, I tell you…"

Smoothly, Ezilian swallowed down the last of his fish and got up, strolling by Mike's table and giving him a pat on the back that left the young boy wincing. "Well, Mike, you have made my day just now."

"I'll bet I have." Mike grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot on his back. "You've got quite an arm on you."

"So some people have told me in the past." Ezilian said, still grinning like a shark. "I'll be looking forward to tonight…I suppose now we'll see that famous pitching arm of yours in action for real, eh?"

"Count on it." Mike said back firmly, nodding his head ever so slightly as his eyes narrowed.

Ezilian mustered one final wave goodbye to the breakfasters, then strolled off with his hands in his pockets, humming a bright diddy.

Mike shook his head and went back to his fish, not looking up again. Marlin's grin faded and he tapped Mike's shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Just a little unfriendly competition, is all." Mike said dourly. "Nothing I can't handle."

"You and Ezilian have a beef or something, man?" Marlin prodded.

Mike swallowed another mouthful of freshly caught fish, looking up and across to where Mica sat casually chatting with Amethyst and rubbing Rozlyn's hair, who squirmed at the attack. Something Amethyst said made Mica smile and laugh, and Mike found himself unable to break his stare for a long moment.

He shook his head and went back to his meal.

"Something like that."

---

It was shortly after the sun had reached its apex that Bana Omoy at last awoke from her slumber, emitting an audible distressed gasp. Her eyes, aged but still sharp and full of forgotten wisdom, went left and right as she reestablished her surroundings, flexing her arms for a long moment to make sure that they still worked, then she rose up from the bed, gently pushing the covers away from herself.

"Mica…Mica, are you here?"

"I'm here, Bana." Came Mica's reassuring voice. She walked over from her own bunk to the shaman's cot, smiling at her. "Finally awake, I see."

"There was much to be dreamed of." Bana said raggedly, stubbornly pulling herself into a sitting position. "Water."

Mica pulled over a gourd of water to Bana, who took a long draw and sighed. "I thank you, child."

"It's all right." Mica replied. "It was no small favor to let me stay with you here."

Bana pulled herself off of her bed and ran a hand through her thinning hair. "I am given much by my position and rank…But being so old, I hardly need it all. There was room to spare for one so needing as yourself." She looked over at Mica. "What time is it?"

"A little after what is called 'noon'." Mica shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you."

"It is unlikely you could have, Mica." Bana pulled herself to her feet and stretched, shaking her head. "The dreams are important these days."

Mica lifted an eyebrow. "What do you dream of?"

"Things in the past…the fog of days that are not yet here. Signs that the stars offer me, but which would be gibberish to others." Bana reached for her comb, still speaking. "You see, Mica, through dreams or meditation, the stars are always talking to me. On rare occasions, or when I am particularly focused, I can listen to them." Bana began combing her hair, looking at Mica. "I would imagine that the stars speak to you as well."

Mica said nothing, and Bana smiled with a shrug. "Perhaps I am wrong."

"Mike and I went fishing this morning."

"Oh?"

"Yes, we caught quite a few…there still should be some left, if you are hungry."

"Perhaps later." Bana said, still brushing. "So…you and Mike. I am glad to see that you two are getting along. I remember those first few days…you hardly gave him the time of day."

"I had some things I needed to figure out."

"Some demons to push away, hmm?" Bana surmised, glancing at Mica again with her perceptive eyes. "He has troubled dreams, just as you do, you know."

Mica frowned. "They're just dreams, Bana."

"Dreams are made to tell you something, Mica." The shaman corrected the Argonian princess. "Don't dismiss them so easily."

"If they're supposed to tell me something, then I'm just reliving very old and very horrible memories." Mica replied curtly. "And whatever Mike's going through, it's something he doesn't feel like sharing, but it must be something similar."

"Hmm." Bana mused. She finished brushing her hair and set the comb down. "My own dreams have become more troublesome as of late. It must be something we all share."

"What, you have bad memories as well?"

"No…not exactly." Bana said cryptically. "So what do you have planned for today, my child?"

"Marlin got Mike to agree to running a baseball game early tonight." Mica began, a smile appearing. "We're all looking forward to it, but Mike seems lukewarm to the idea at best. He seemed…Weirder this morning when he got to breakfast." Mica thought for a long moment, then shook her head. "I really don't know why."

"You might ask him afterwards." Bana suggested coolly. "Somehow…I think he would be willing to give you an answer to that."

Mica gave Bana an accusing stare. "I still haven't figured out why you're always so vague. Why can't you just give me a straight answer once in a while?"

Bana shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "Let the years wear on you as they have me and see how you yourself will turn out." Bana yawned and headed for a clothes cabinet. "In any case…I must prepare myself for the day ahead, so if you'll excuse me…"

Mica rolled her eyes and headed for the door, stopped by a final comment from the shaman as she began to disrobe. "Oh, and Mica?"

"Yes, Bana?"

"I did give you a straight answer just then…ask him tonight, after your game. I imagine that you two will have a lot to share."

Mica shook her head again and left the hut, closing the door behind her.

Wearily, Bana looked into the mirror as she adjusted her headdress, her tired eyes glancing back into her memories.

"The two of you…must share, and must understand. Or else, we might all…" Bana's voice trailed off, and she shut her eyes.

The rest was too foggy and too frightening to ponder.

---

Dr. Jones adjusted his glasses for a few moments, staring at the computer screen's countdown indicator as it finished calculating the massive amounts of data it had collected from the electron microscope's data.

After replacing the necessary fuse and powering the massive device up, he had finally been able to begin his examination of his nephew's silvery weapon he had called "Super Nova". The imaging itself had taken a good forty five minutes to even do a close up scan of tiny sections of the Nova's chain, grip, and one of the spiked points on the head. Mapping the entire thing would have taken days and more memory than he could spare…ten megabytes didn't go far. He found himself wishing he had spent the extra 600 to get the twenty megabyte standing hard drive instead, despite the fact it took up as much room as a closet.

His Apple II's monitor continued to flash the percentage completed as it went, albeit slowly.

Impatiently, the archaeologist finally picked up his voice recorder and clicked it on.

"June 25th, 1990. Location, my laboratory, Coralcola Island. Time; Twelve forty-two P.M. After a helicopter from Hawaii arrived earlier today with my package from Daierstrohm Enterprises, I was able to finally make repairs to the electron microscope that is located here. Being the only available electron microscope for several hundred kilometers, it holds vital importance to this region's scientific community, but mostly to myself. I have been anxiously awaiting for some time now to more methodically examine the mysterious artifact that my nephew Michael Jones returned with following his bizarre…adventure."

Dr. Jones had paused over the last word, wondering just how much he should reveal in his records. Frowning for a moment, he finally decided that these would be for his personal archives, much like everything else directly concerning matters of the present and the Argonian children.

"According to what he has told me, the object I am scanning, his "Super Nova" began as a chained mace called the Morningstar, given to him by the Amazonian warriors of Shecola. It was only upon touching the first Argonian magic cube that it transformed into its current, silvery incarnation. Needless to say, I found this dubious at best to believe, for the concept of transformation of objects or their transfiguration is by our current scientific knowledge, an impossibility. Then again…I have had previous beliefs shaken in the last few months as well. Needless to say, my questions will best be answered by direct inquiry and research, and so I find myself waiting for the electron microscope and my databank to finish compiling the images taken."

Dr. Jones looked back at his screen and finally cracked a smile. The time he'd spent talking had been enough to narrow the remaining data compilation into a few seconds. Finally, they passed by and the screen flashed with running lines of data and files.

Do you wish to view images Y/N?

Dr. Jones calmly typed a Y and hit enter, watching with interest as the screen brought up a slideshow format of his images, a novel innovation in the software that allowed him instant access to the pictures scanned without waiting for a printer. The graphics were black and white, and a little crude on his simple monitor, but their grainy quality didn't bother him.

A few seconds later, his eyes widened. The quality of the images weren't bothering him at all. It was the images themselves.

Frowning, he readjusted his glasses again and clicked the right arrow on his keyboard for the next image. He saw the same thing.

Still feeling a sense of disbelief, he continued on, scanning through each image faster and faster until he didn't even bother to fully look at them all.

"No, this isn't possible…" He whispered, shaking his head. "They can't make metal this…this…"

Finally, he stopped shuffling through his computerized slideshow, focusing on a near atomic level closeup of the weapon's chain.

The image shown revealed a surface of the object that was completely smooth. No ridges, no blemishes, no tiny cracks at all. Impossibly smooth. There wasn't a technique Dr. Jones knew of that had ever made an object so smooth, even the roundest and smoothest oyster's pearl when put under a microscope this intense showed its atomic and subatomic faults.

But if these images were correct, and they were…

My nephew's weapon…was formed at a subatomic level.

Still distraught, he cleared his glasses again. "This is insanity, things aren't made like this…"

There came a knock at his door, causing the doctor to hastily put his spectacles on and toggle the electron microscope's power off. "Enter!" He called out quickly. The latch quickly cracked open, and Baboo strolled in with Mike following a little ways behind him.

"Aah, Baboo." Dr. Jones said with a smile. "How goes the preparations?"

"I have nearly all the supplies loaded that you had on the log. It should be ready by tomorrow." His assistant replied, running a hand through his hair. "I apologize for the delay, but this morning's activities disrupted my work."

"Yes, namely my nephew's escapades." Dr. Jones said calmly, looking to the boy his brother had sent to him. "So Mike, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing much." Mike said, shrugging his shoulders. "Just wanted to see what you were up to, I guess."

"Well, you may be of some use to me yet." Dr. Jones replied, turning to Baboo. "Continue stocking up the supplies. Ask Nav-Com for help if you need it."

Baboo gave a short nod of his head and walked out of the laboratory, leaving the two Joneses alone. Mike lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"What's so blessedly interesting about the vicinity of Howduyadocola that you'd restock Sub-C with every sort of supply possible?"

His uncle smiled at Mike, shaking his head. "Figured me out, did you?"

"Nav-Com's good about answering direct questions."

"Well yes, I am going to Howduyadocola in relatively short order. You remember the ruins there?"

"Vividly." Mike said drily. "It was an interesting place to visit, no doubt about that. And your reason…?"

"The short answer is simply that I believe there's still some answers that that place hasn't revealed to me."

"The long one?"

"My initial inquiries into the ruins were an almost haphazard glance…I was drawn there by the stories of one year prior, and how lights filled the skies. The residents by Howduyadocola told me that the meteor shower was far more intense…It was in my investigation I found both the ruins and the source of the natives' account, that being the escape pod used by the Argonian children to escape their planet."

"Forget I even asked." Mike winced, rubbing at his ears. His uncle laughed a bit, then looked behind him and reached for the Super Nova, pulling it out of the examination chamber in his electron microscope.

"Now then, I'd best return this to you. I just finished my studies on it."

Mike reached slowly for the silvery chained mace, feeling a resurging strength flow through him as Dr. Jones handed it back to him. Appreciatively, he lofted its weight in his hands, then quietly wrapped up the chain and set the grip through the loop on the side of his jeans. "You find anything interesting?"

"Oh, a few things." Dr. Jones said quietly. "Could you remind me how you came into the possession of it?"

Mike looked down at the relic hanging from his pants, blinking a few times. "This thing started off as the Morning Star that the Shecolans gave me. But like I told you, when I grabbed the first magic…sorry, stasis cube, the red one? When I picked it up, I just felt a lot of…well, energy I guess, going through me. A little bit like electricity, only worse than that time I got shocked when I was little. But it didn't stay in me, Uncle Steve. It went down to my hand, then into my weapon. It glowed for a few seconds, almost blinded me…then when I was able to look again, all the red had faded from it, and I found myself looking at this perfectly polished and formed weapon right here."

He lightly pressed his finger against one of the points on the Super Nova's head, still amazed to find it incredibly sharp after all this time as it pricked him. "It doesn't make sense, Uncle Steve, I know that. But I swear to God that's how it happened."

"Given what I saw in my extreme closeup images of it…that's about the only way it could have happened."

"Beg'r pardon?" Mike said, lifting an eyebrow.

Dr. Jones sighed and rubbed at his bald spot. "All right, let me explain. Every object in the world has a rough and grainy quality to it when you examine it up close. You know how smooth a glass marble is? Well, when you reach a supermicroscopic level, that smoothness vanishes. It always does, because that's just the way particles of any given object are. But when I scanned your Super Nova after replacing the burnt fuse…It was perfectly smooth, Mike. Even approaching a molecular level, every aspect of it was completely smooth. They can't make things like that, Mike. Your weapon, it defies science."

Mike blinked a few times, letting it soak in. "Which means…"

"Somehow, the Argonians, trapped as they were inside of the stasis cubes, created impossibilities." Dr. Jones concluded for him.

Mike shook his head. "That's bogus, Uncle Steve."

"And yet it still happened." Dr. Jones exhaled. He shook his head and walked over to his computer, turning the screen back on and after a few moments, saving his work. "That said, there's little need for you to worry about such things."

"It's a little late to tell me not to worry about stuff, Uncle Steve." Mike chuckled dourly. "You should have done that before I had to face off against Zoda and his bunch of troublemakers."

"I know." Dr. Jones said quietly. "And I apologize for that, Mike…My actions thrust you into a mess, and I can't begin to fathom how that's affected you."

His nephew ran a hand through his hair, thinking for a moment. "You know something, Uncle Steve?"

"What?"

"Yeah, there's been a lot of bogus things that have happened…but they haven't all been bad." The adolescent smirked at that. "Heck, some things have even been…good." He turned and grinned at his uncle. "So don't worry the rest of your hair off, okay? Things are fine."

Dr. Jones relaxed and smiled back. "I'm glad to hear that, Mike. So what are you up to today?"

"Aah, the kids managed to force me into running a baseball game."

"Baseball? That's your favorite sport, I'd imagine you'd be enthusiastic about the idea." Dr. Jones mused loudly.

"Normally, sure." Mike sighed. "But the game I'll be doing tonight, I'm not looking forward to. Not with Ezilian in it…"

"Ezilian? Isn't he the oldest boy of the Argonians?" Dr. Jones asked.

"Yup. He also doesn't seem to like me much." Mike scratched at his head. "It's not like I did anything to the guy, outside of saving his life."

"Well, what did he do?"

"He threatened me, primarily. Got a real edge to him…competitive."

"Well, you must have done something to get on his nerves…"

"Hell, he's always been kind of cold." Mike snorted. "I suppose, though…"

"What?"

"He did tell me to stay away from Mica, for some reason." Mike said, shaking his head. "Why would he go off and say something like that?"

Though Mike had a hard time understanding, his uncle's eyes widened slowly, and he nodded with a brief smirk. "So that's how it is then, eh…"

"What, you know what his problem with me is?"

"It's not something that's easily solved…but it is something that you two will have to work out in due course. For now though, don't be too worried. He's just trying to regain alpha status."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Dr. Jones said calmly. He waved his hand towards the door. "I have some other things to wrap up here…but before you go, just let me tell you to stop worrying so much and try to have fun tonight at your game. I think you'll find that that's the easiest thing to do."

"I'll do my best, Unc." Mike said, nodding his head and turning for the door. It shut behind him easily, leaving Dr. Jones alone in his laboratory.

Calmly, the archaeologist picked up his voice recorder and activated it again. "Previous date, same location. I have just finished my viewing of my nephew's "Super Nova", and much to my surprise, found its composition to defy every known law of metallurgy. This would seem to corroborate his story that indeed, the Super Nova is a product of a more metaphysical transfiguration than simple metalsmithing. Yet a greater question comes to my mind as a result of this fantastic find; The contents of the Argonian stasis cubes were not powerful relics or lost technology, but children, the last survivors of their planet. Yet the cubes they resided in were capable of accomplishing, for all purposes, miracles…so there must be, by simple elimination, something more to the Argonians than they would care to admit."

He eased back into his head, exhaling slowly. "For now, it would do me little good to press the issue on them. Work also continues in my preparations for a return expedition to the ruins by Howduyadocola. My nephew's escapades briefly derailed Baboo's work, but my assistant has assured me that Sub-C will be ready to sail by tomorrow afternoon. My discovery of the ruins was what led me to discover the space pod that the stasis cubes had inhabited…and inevitably, my involvement in Zoda's own machinations, forced as they were."

The archaeologist paused again, allowing his brain's thoughts to catch up with him. "Zoda, for what little I thankfully saw of him, came off more concerned with control and force than anything else. It was obvious he came a long way to reach the space pod the Argonian children were sent on…That is something most cost prohibitive, I would wager. No, while he was responsible, according to the children, for the complete destruction of their people and world, Zoda seemed to me not one prone towards psychotic episodes of genocide."

Dr. Jones shut his eyes. "He was after something else…and it may yet prove that the same thing Zoda, now dead along with the rest of his contingent thanks to the actions of my nephew, was after…May well be the same intangible, indescribable power that caused the Super Nova to be created in its unique way."

With a sense of finality, he clicked the recorder off, chewing at his lower lip as he set the device down on his desk.

"Lord only knows…what they still keep hidden."

---

Arruk-Sen, 1970 A.C.E.(Earth Relative)

The Royal Palace

Princess Mica was too terrified to even scream as Zoda hurled himself towards her and Rozlyn, still mired in the rubble of his explosive entrance. As if his aura exuded fear, she knelt frozen, curling protectively around Rozlyn in the only act she could perform.

A cry, one of infuriated rage, echoed down the corridor just as an explosive blast of energy came from behind the girls and impacted in Zoda's chest, hurling him backwards into a stumble and halting his charge. Stunned, Mica swerved her head around to see her father, King Hirocon Argos, standing grimly behind them in the corridor they had tried to flee to as a locus of energy glowed furiously around his hand.

"That's as far as you get, you monster…" He growled, stepping purposefully past the girls and in front of Zoda.

The invader clutched a hand at his chest, taking a moment to breathe. "And to think I had almost forgotten pain." He turned up and lowered his hand from his wound, which seemed to be little more than a tarnished mark on his armor. "King Hirocon…how nice to see you." He announced drily. "However, you do not interest me."

Mica felt a lump tighten in her chest as Zoda said it so casually, tilting his helmet to the side to stare past her father and straight into her terrified eyes. Her grip on Rozlyn tightened, causing the girl to squeak involuntarily.

Hirocon growled low in his throat, his other hand beginning to glow as well. "Mica…listen to me carefully." He said, never once pulling his eyes away from the armored foreigner that carefully clacked his clawed gauntlets together. "Take Rozlyn…and go. Go to the others."

Zoda chuckled at that. "What are you doing…trying to buy them time? Get them away from me? Why Hirocon, how noble of you." He snarled the last sentence and leapt towards the girls in a sudden burst of speed even faster than before.

"NO!!" Hirocon barked, clasping his hands together into a balled fist and swinging his arms like a hammer around and into Zoda's side, the force of his attack and the glowing energy that exploded and crackled on contact hurling the alien away once again. Hirocon gasped from the strain of the blow, taking a step backwards and turning to Mica once more. "Run…" He wheezed. "I'll come soon…"

Mica, terror now giving way to worry, nodded her head once and stood up. The sensation of fear gone, she picked Rozlyn up into her arms and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Hirocon breathed a silent sigh of relief, turning away from the two girls and back towards his opponent.

Zoda stubbornly pulled himself out of the rubble once more, hastily reaching for the laser blaster at his side before he thought better of it, shaking his head. "I see you've improved your skills…Sadly, they're still not enough. Not for what I want." He pulled his hand away from his weapon and purposefully clacked the metallic claws.

"You stay away from her." Hirocon said, his voice shaky.

Zoda chuckled. "Still playing the hero…Honestly, I have no idea what Tanelia saw in you. You always were relying on her, and her strength…That's why I have little fear of you now." His eyes glowed a darker red. "She taught you well, but there is only so much one of Sellarus' line can do for an outsider."

"Don't you dare speak of my wife like that, you traitor."

"Traitor?" Zoda mused wryly. "Hmmph, perhaps so. As for your wife…it is a shame that she died in our invasion…tragic, really. I wasn't expecting her to be on that station when we struck it down." Zoda shrugged. "Accidents do happen, I suppose."

"KYRCHAI!!" Hirocon roared, leaping towards Zoda with another flash of energy blasts from his hands. Zoda seemed to pause and consider the assault for a moment before easily stepping to the side of the first blast, lifting his palm up to absorb the brunt of force from the other, and then whirling about and delivering a vicious backhand to the raging king. Hirocon stumbled backwards, dazed from the blow to the side of his head which already had begun to bleed.

Zoda laughed again, a low basso that reverberated in the hazy and smoke filled air. "You honestly hoped to stop me…Me, the Prime Invader? God, you're even more disillusioned than I thought. Just stop this now and step aside."

"Never." Hirocon rasped, summoning forth more of his strength, glowing brighter still. "You shall not have her, and you shall not have the others."

Zoda shook his head. "The others I could care less about…true, they are children of nobility, and therefore entitled to some of the mystical gifts descended down from ancient times…but it is only your precious Princess and heir Seremichala Argos that holds what I want." Zoda blurred out of sight and appeared behind Hirocon, his clawed gauntlet flashing around his throat, lifting him up and squeezing. "Hirocon, let me make one thing clear…I will have the power of Sellarus's line for myself."

"Never…" Hirocon gasped, struggling against Zoda's firm grip. Running short on ideas, he jammed his open hands around Zoda's gauntleted fist and willed, as best as he could, his mystical talents to inflame the metal to an unbearable degree of heat.

Zoda roared at the sudden pain, releasing Hirocon and stumbling backwards, tearing furiously at his gauntlet as it continued to burn the hand inside, superheating until the metal glowed bright orange and the king of Argonia could smell the wafting scent of charred flesh.

Screaming now, Hirocon charged Zoda straight on with a double fisted roundhouse swing that sent Zoda reeling once more, crackling with the energies he expelled from his body.

Breathing heavily, Hirocon dropped his cloak away from him, trying to catch your breath. Zoda laughed a bit longer and stepped towards him, shaking off the stupor from the blow.

"The power of Sellarus' line, if used properly, was never meant to drain away ones' vitality. It seems that you never did manage that." Zoda murmured. "Though I had best wrap this up before you get too desperate and try something stupid." He pulled out his laser blaster at last, leveling it slowly at the exhausted Hirocon. "Farewell, Hirocon…It was pleasant meeting you again."

Hirocon stared blankly at the open barrel of Zoda's blaster, knowing that the burst of compacted light would superheat whatever it hit, causing it to rupture in what resembled a clear burnthrough. He knew that Zoda aimed it not at his chest or an arm, but his head.

But he also knew that he could not let that happen…

Zoda fired a single shot, the burst echoing through the flickering hallways of the castle. Silence followed…And then the invader let out a sudden gasp of disbelief.

His eyes shut, his jaw tightly wired, and his hands clenched at his sides, Hirocon remained unscathed as a shimmering presence of air revolved around the fired laserburst, suspending it in a perfectly frozen state, maintaining its kinetic energy.

"No, Zoda. No." Hirocon said quietly, opening his dull eyes to look at his nemesis. "You took Tanelia from me, you destroyed our people, and you might now be strong enough to kill me…but I cannot let you."

"Impossible…" Zoda hissed, taking a step back and firing again. The second shot met a similar fate, slowing down until it too froze in midair alongside its cousin. "NO!"

Hirocon slowly extended a hand out until his fingertips were nearly touching Zoda's dangerous blasts, his fingers trembling at the strain of keeping them frozen. "You took hope from my world and my life…you shall not have Mica's."

Zoda snarled and flung his blaster aside, charging at Hirocon with his clawed fingers bared.

Sweat still running across his brow, Hirocon flung himself flat against the floor, watching as Zoda soared harmlessly overhead and skidded to a halt behind him.

And then he released his hold on Zoda's laserbursts.

The swirling air vanished from the shots, and they soared on, striking through Zoda's side and the thigh of his right leg. Roaring in pain and now agony, Zoda could do little more but crumple into a kneel as his senses threatened to overwhelm him.

"No more." Hirocon murmured softly, picking up Zoda's abandoned laser blaster and walking towards his wounded foe, cocking it. "It ends here, Zoda..."

"You still can't call me by my real name, after all we went through?" the invader wheezed, trying his best to stop the flow of blood from the wound in his side.

"That man died a long time ago. Now his shadow will finally perish as well." Hirocon whispered, raising the pistol and aiming it between the glowing red eyes of Zoda's helmet.

Too late to act, Hirocon was blasted from behind with a trio of laser blasts, each burrowing a hole through him while avoiding his vital organs. He cried out in pain, dropping Zoda's pistol and running away for cover, towards the direction of Mica's departure and away from Zoda.

As he made it far enough away to activate with a wounded kick a security panel close by, he caused the security blast door to slide down in the hallway. Zoda lurched to his feet and make a stumbling run for him as a pair of his alien deathtroops walked in through the hole of the outer wall Zoda had made. All three tried to no avail to blast Hirocon away, but their shots met harmlessly against the thick metal of the blast door that mercifully slid down between the two sides, blocking them off.

Now in incredible pain, and only minutes away from blackout, Hirocon turned about and forced his overtaxed body, now riddled with wounds, to march stolidly towards Mica and the other children…and towards their freedom.

Behind him, through the thick door, he could hear Zoda's dark laughter carry through, sink into him, accompanied by the hammering sound of vibrodrills pounding against the barrier.

"Run all you like, Hirocon…No door can hold me forever, and then your precious Mica is MINE!"

Hirocon squeezed his eyes shut against his tears and kept on.

He didn't have long.

---

Mica looked around the room despairingly; Outside of her and Rozlyn, only five others had made it to the relative safety of the Castle's inner launch bay. There was Rozlyn's big sister Amethyst who cried out and ran to her younger sibling, grasping her tight and holding her close. There was Bakusian, who for once looked as though food was the farthest thing from his mind. Giskard paced back and forth nervously, saying nothing but finally having a reason for his sour disposition. Even Marlin had his joviality knocked out of him, leaning against a wall as he sat on the floor, shaking his head back and forth. And then there was Ezilian, who passed one worried look over Mica before she shook her head and assuaged his fears; No, she was all right. Ezilian visibly relaxed, even exhaling. "Thank the stars."

Rozlyn glanced around, sobbing a bit. "Where's mommy and daddy?" She asked, guiding the question towards Amethyst, but loud enough for all to hear.

Amethyst blinked back tears and bit on her lip. "Mom and dad…they're…"

"They're dead." Ezilian stated flatly. Rozlyn's horrified expression focused on him, and Amethyst glared.

"Damnit, Ezilian…"

The seventeen year old shrugged coldly, seeming distant somehow from the entire situation. "I won't go making lies or holding out useless hope, Amethyst, and you shouldn't either." He tapped his fingernails impatiently along his arm. "Argonia…our cities have been razed to the ground. The Queen has been killed. And our parents…all the nobles…gone. They were in those cities, and now they're dead."

"You seem awfully nonplussed about the matter." Giskard groused. "I suppose that's because your parents died and left you some time ago."

Ezilian's indifferent gaze flashed with a hint of hidden fire. His body tensed up and he growled.

"Stop it, both of you!" Mica shouted, her quavering voice silencing them all. She fought back her own expression of hopelessness, shaking her head. "I know that my mother is dead…I don't need you reminding me of that." She said tersely towards Ezilian. "But we can't be afraid…we can't. And moping won't do us any good."

"It's not like we can exactly stop them…Even you can't Mica, and your connection to Shilivre is the greatest of all of us." Marlin murmured. "So what can we do?"

The sound of a door opening behind them caused the children to whirl about, and an adrenaline filled Mica brought her hands to bear, setting them out palms forward with a glowing locus of light around them.

All breathed in a sigh of relief, especially Mica, when King Hirocon Argos walked through. It took them a while to notice how haggard he looked, how smashed up he had become. Blood ran freely from a small gash on the side of his head, mingling a darker tint into his grizzled beard. He walked with a limp, and as he wheezed in his approach, they finally noticed how they could see behind him…Through three perfectly scoured holes in his body, perfect hits from the piercing power of the space pirates' blaster weaponry.

"Father!" Mica shrieked in dismay, while at the same time, Ezilian offered a similar response of shock by uttering "Your highness…"

Clutching a hand at his shoulder where one of the holes was resting, Hirocon shook his head. "I'm…all right, for now…" Still, he didn't argue when Mica took him over to a chair and set him down.

"What are your orders, your highness?" Ezilian asked quickly, seeking to regain control of the situation.

Hirocon laughed a bit. "Highness…even now, I suppose…that still means something to you all?"

The children looked blankly at him, none more confused than Mica. Hirocon exhaled a sigh full of pain and weariness, and looked over to Rozlyn and Amethyst. "Children…We are all that is left, as far as I can tell. This Zoda has led his armada to complete victory, our cities are razed, our civilization is destroyed." Pain in his eyes, he fought back against tears. "There is nothing for you here now. Nothing but suffering and death."

Rozlyn brushed a row of tears away from her eyes. "Mommy and daddy…they're really dead, aren't they?"

Hirocon had a quiet sympathy to his expression as he slowly nodded his head. "I couldn't save them…I couldn't save my kingdom…and I couldn't save my people from this monster." Gritting his teeth against the pain, he forced himself to his feet. "But…I can save you."

The children looked at each other, the weight of the situation still so heavy in their thoughts that little of what he said made it through. Hirocon motioned towards the rounded, asteroid looking craft resting in the middle of the room.

"This…is your way to freedom, children."

"That looks like an older model 'Astreth' Class deepspace pod." Ezilian stated calmly, looking towards Hirocon. "But those aren't designed to be inhabited…They're self-automated."

Hirocon nodded weakly. "I realize. But there's a function not as well known about, Ezilian." He lifted a hand towards the side of the rock shaped craft, where three cubic indentations lay. "Those…are the storage compartments for this craft. Long ago, before the mastery of Shilivre became mastered by the descendants of Sellarus, it was crafts like this one that carried us. So it will carry you again…but in a form wholly different."

Wearily, the king looked at them all. "I did not think we would ever use this…certainly not for you children, but…We have run out of options."

Rozlyn sniffled a bit. "What are you gonna do, King 'irocon?"

Ezilian's hand went to Mica's shoulder, clamping down with a tight squeeze that almost made her wince from the force of it. "King Hirocon…you can't be serious. Surely, you're not planning to…"

His voice ran off, and he looked from the well camouflaged spacecraft to a strange device in the same room.

Hirocon did not flinch.

"Blast it, the stasis cubes were meant for transporting goods, not people!!" Ezilian said in an incredulous outburst. Ezilian's explosive cry finally triggered a sense of panic in the children old enough to suddenly recall what Ezilian was getting at.

"We have no choice." Hirocon said quietly. "If I were to try and get you out of here as you are…you would never make it. But inside the stasis cubes, you stand a chance of making it, both in the escape…and the journey that will follow."

Mica's throat was dry, and she coughed before trying to speak. "You…you would suspend us, turn us into…mere patterns of energy and brief traces of matter…Is that not what stasis cubes do?"

"Yes." Hirocon affirmed. "It's…it's the only way, Mica. The only way I can give you all life." He motioned towards the boys, Ezilian, Marlin, Bakusian, and Giskard. "You four…you're first. Step aboard the transfiguration pad."

The seven Argonian children looked around the room, the lights dimming as the noise of explosions echoed closer and closer, and the sound of animalistic screams and whoops sounded as well. Perhaps it sunk in then, in that moment of quiet and thought that the truth of the matter, dissuaded by adrenaline and the terror of the hours and minutes past, was exactly as Hirocon had described it. They all grew up a little more at that, but all recognized its accuracy.

There was nothing for them here. Nothing but death.

So the boys turned to one another, and it was Ezilian that finally nodded his head as a sign to do as the king commanded…one last time. Begrudgingly, they all stepped up onto the pad still carrying a sense of foreboding as King Hirocon limped to the controls of the stasis inducing device, activating it with a few keystrokes. A strange cathode descended from the ceiling above their heads, and Hirocon gave them one last glance and nod.

Ezilian turned to look at Mica, a quiet determined fire awakening in his eyes. "Seremichaela…I will be waiting for you."

"And I for you." Mica barely managed to choke out, her shaky voice by the situation and not of his own actions. But he seemed to smile triumphantly to himself at that, and gave one last affirming nod of his head. Hirocon accepted the gesture, taking one last glance at the varied expressions on the four, then pulled a lever, filling the room with a sudden whine and kaleidoscopic flash of energy.

Slowly, the sound and light died down, and little Rozlyn, still afraid, whimpered. "What happened to them?"

Hirocon looked to her for a moment before walking towards the platform where the boys had once stood. "The technology to create stasis cubes takes matter, both living and dead, and compacts them into the sum of their pieces…shrinking them into a compilation of matter and energy that can be stored as an identifiable pattern. Their contents are frozen, perfectly preserved, until such a time as the cubes created are joined together, releasing their contents intact." He leaned down slowly and picked up a tiny box, fingering it gently before holding it flat in his palm for the girls to see. "They also reflect, in the case of sentient occupants…the kind of emotion they hold."

The boy's cube, Mica noted, glowed a bright red.

Hirocon turned to Rozlyn and Amethyst. "You two are next."

Rozlyn looked up to Amethyst, worry still on her face. "Ami…We're gonna be okay, right?"

Amethyst swallowed down her own fears, smiling at her younger sibling and hugging her close. "Of course we are." She looked over to Mica. "Won't we, Princess?"

Mica knew what Amethyst wanted her to say. She knew that they had to keep their morale high…that above all else, they could not lose hope. If her father's last attempt to save them all was to work, then no time could be spared on reassurances. It had to boil down to faith for their survival.

But she was now the sole living member of the Argonian royal family that kept all of its secrets. And in what she had been forced to memorize…

She could feel a hundred different moments, a thousand similarities, and ten different sections of the sacred texts all ring inside of her, shaking her core and the very foundation of her beliefs. But she could not reveal them, could not, even for a moment, share that burden that only her mother had held before her.

So she smiled as best as she could and nodded back. "We'll…we'll be fine, Rozlyn.

Rozlyn, easily persuaded by the two confident looking older girls in the room, nodded her head and let herself be led by Amethyst to the platform. She waved one last time at Mica, her tinny voice barely escaping the dim of the device as it powered back to life. "I hope you'll be there…when I wake up."

The same chromatic light enveloped the room once again, and died down to reveal a second cube; this one a dazzling hue of sapphire blue.

Gingerly, Mica picked it up. Somehow, perhaps through her connection to Shilivre, she could almost feel Amethyst and Rozlyn within. Even frozen in an instant of time, it pulsated gently in her hand with a soothing and tranquil light.

Her father's hand came down lightly on her shoulder, and he dropped the first cube containing the four boys into her open palm alongside the second. The blue and red cubes pulsed by their proximity, glowing even brighter.

"Mica…This is all I can do for you now."

"I know, father." Mica whispered back. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as he raised his arm and pointed past her face to the three niches embedded in the side of the craft.

"They…put the others in two of those compartments."

Dully, Mica approached the craft and fitted the cubes into the side of the spaceship. They fit snugly…built for the one specific purpose of harboring them.

Mica turned to her father, her mouth inexplicably dry as her vision clouded in waters. He looked back at her, his expression betraying sadness, loss, grief, determination, and sympathy all at once.

"Seremichaela…this might…be the last time we ever see each other."

She whimpered despite herself, running towards him. "Papa, don't say that…please don't say that…"

He pulled her close in an embrace that came close to squeezing the air out of her lungs, forcing down his own tears as he tried to push hers away.

"You must be strong, Mica." Hirocon said to her, resting his forehead down against hers. "For the others…you will be all they have left."

"Where…where are you sending us?"

"Many years before my time, Mica, there were Argonians who struck out into the vastness of space. I am sending you to a planet that had been found…a planet not unlike Argonia in form, but one whose people…humans, they call themselves now…are different from our own. The journey will last almost twenty of their years."

Numbly, Mica let it sink in.

"You cannot return here." Hirocon croaked. "None of you can…there will be nothing left by the time Zoda finishes."

"What kind of a life can we have…without our planet, without our people? What kind of a life can I have as an orphan?!"

"You will live." Hirocon said back, pleadingly. "In all that I am…in these last actions that I take as your father and the ruler of this land, that is all I can do." His eyes went blank for a moment, and he transmitted another thought.

"Your mother was the strongest user of Shilivre on Argonia…and now you are the strongest, Mica. You have the strength needed for this…I am sending you on a journey, but it is one that you and the others will survive. You will not be alone. Be true to Ezilian, and to the bonds you two share…Trust in one another…and above all else, trust in the legends that your mother gave to you. Trust in the wisdom of Sellarus, your great ancestor, and you will prevail."

Her grief running so full that her vision was nothing but a blur, Mica could not summon forth the presence of mind to respond to him in the same manner. Too many thoughts echoed in her mind…doubts, fears, especially about the full legend of the Starseer and Sellarus' additions.

Only the sound of further explosions and the grating noise of metal blast doors inside of the castle being torn apart snapped her away.

"There's no time." Hirocon finished wearily, grasping her by the shoulders. "You must…you must become the third."

Only his resolve gave Mica the strength to walk over to the platform upon which she would be broken apart, frozen, and stored into the final stasis cube. She pushed her hair away from her eyes, looking forlornly at her father as he stepped behind the controls of the device and pushed a button once again, the hum of the machinery whining up once again.

"Father…" She cried out to him one last time, pushing the tears aside and trying her hardest to create a memory of how he stood then at that moment.

His beard in full bloom, his fierce eyes looked defeated, and his ceremonial cape once so proudly kept behind his body now cloaked about his shoulders like a shroud, blood spatters and all.

"Be strong…"

And so she was frozen…captured in a scream of the moment, unable to do a thing as her father, the room, and Argonia faded from view in a slowly growing field of hazy white mist that exploded like starlight in front of her eyes…

And then everything was black silence and darkness…Nothing around but the echo of her own voice, and a solitude that became so disturbing after just seconds that she curled in upon herself.

The void became her companion…and so it would be, she knew…

For a long time to come.

---

June 25th, 1990 A.C.E.

4:53 P.M. Coralcola Island

Mica blinked a few times, briefly aware of a sudden gust of wind from the west that brushed the palm trees aside and exposed the full light of the sun upon her. Despite the warmth of her environment, a cold chill was rising in her core.

"Enough." She murmured to herself, closing her eyes and tensing every muscle in her body. "Enough."

A few moments passed, time where a soothing presence in her mind came to the surface and forced everything else back down and away. No, she reiterated to herself, this was not Argonia. That had happened…twenty years ago. As fresh as it still was, even if she hadn't aged a day in those two decades, it was in the past. And the past, she argued silently, did not have to haunt her.

The cold faded away.

"Mica…Hey Mica, are you all right?" Amethyst asked, softly nudging her in the shoulder. Mica mumbled in annoyance for a moment, looking up to the girl just a year younger than herself. Amethyst was looking concerned, but that was what she did best; being the most empathic of the seven had both its drawbacks and its benefits.

"I'll be all right." Mica replied, making a motion to bring herself to her feet. "I just have to find a normal sleep schedule again."

"Those late nights will kill you, all right." Amethyst agreed with a smile. "But now's not the time for naps."

"Why not?" Mica asked, trying to become more alert.

"What, you forgot already?" Amethyst queried bemusedly. "The baseball game, Mica. We have to go get our field, as rough as Mike says it is, ready for after dinner."

Memories came back to the Argonian princess as Amethyst helped her to her feet. "Wasn't that Marlin's crazy idea?"

"Mostly." Amethyst agreed, leading them on towards the south end of the island, not too far from the helipad. "Though Ezilian was looking forward to it."

"Yes…he did seem interested in it." Mica said guardedly.

"Oh, he's just showing off." Amethyst said, blushing a bit. "You know that he's always been competitive."

"No, what he is is bullheaded." Mica countered. "Ezilian can't stand the thought that there might be someone out there who can beat him at anything."

"Ezilian was a bit of a Derdinal player back on Argonia." Amethyst waggled a finger. "From what I've seen, it's not that much different from this Earth game called baseball."

"He was good at Derdinal, I'll give him that." Mica agreed. "But I'm not so sure that will give him a winning advantage."

The two girls crested over the hill, at last able to look across and see the makeshift field being created. With Mike shouting out orders and carrying a measuring tape from square shaped bag to bag, the natives and the more responsible minded Argonians carrying out the construction, and Rozlyn chiding Giskard as he chased after a screaming Bakusian with a baseball bat, it was a sight to behold.

"This is gonna be fun, Mica." Amethyst laughed a bit.

Mica calmly let her eyes sweep over the island's lower jaw, spotting Ezilian standing at the cape with his arms crossed, looking down on the assembly with a collected glare.

"If anything…it will be interesting." Mica corrected.

She could see clearly enough that Ezilian's own line of sight was centered on Mike.

---

6:45 P.M.

"Coralcola Field"

"PLAY BALL!" Mike shouted at the top of his lungs, pulling an old Red Sox baseball cap tighter around his head and stepping up to the heightened bump of land that had been designated as the pitcher's mound. Alongside the arena, standing or sitting cross-legged were the natives and Dr. Jones, already cheering them on and happily munching on the last of dinner's fish kebabs.

The players scattered; Marlin, Amethyst, and Bakusian scattered to the bases surrounding Mike, while Baboo opted, due to the shortage of players, to cover permanent outfield. The lack of gloves didn't seem to faze them at all, something that Mike found slightly disturbing, but unavoidable given the circumstances. At the plate marched Giskard, with Rozlyn and Ezilian and a young native whose name Mike had never caught sat in the makeshift dugout…really, just sitting in the grass behind home plate. Mica calmly checked the catcher's mitt she had borrowed from Mike, shifting her stance as she knelt down and narrowed her eyes. She, like all of the other girls, had changed into more suitable attire for demanding physical activity; Mica made a mental note that these 'blue jeans' were something she'd have to wear more often.

"Give 'em a heater, Mike!" Dr. Jones shouted from the bleachers. Mike smiled and shook his head, glancing behind him when somebody quietly tapped his shoulder.

Hapo Omoy rubbed at his curly head of hair for a moment. "So, my job as umpire is…"

"To make the calls. You have balls, strikes, foul balls, and…"

"Oh, yes." Hapo said suddenly, his eyes widening. "It's a good thing we had this talk earlier today then…I just needed to have my memory refreshed."

"Right." Mike said, inwardly sighing in relief. He didn't feel like repeating the hour long discourse again. "Well, go and get behind Mica there. You've gotta make the calls here on out…Ump."

"Ump?" Hapo asked, before realization set in. "Ohh…short for umpire."

He strolled off and stood behind Mica, then lifted a hand. "Are we all ready?"

Giskard took a few test swings with the bat, keeping his grumbling comments to himself for a change as he settled into a makeshift batters' stance and stared Mike down.

The young earth boy merely smiled and went into his windup.

"Now we're having fun."

His throw flew through the air, whistling straight and true and straight into Mica's mitt, slapping with the satisfying sound of leather against the stitched ball. Giskard had swung, but stood dumbfounded as he looked down at the bat, then to Mica's glove.

Hapo looked up at Mike and squinted an eye. "Is that a strike?"

Mike rolled his eyes, and it was Mica who spoke for him. "Giskard swung…and it was in the area called the 'strike zone'. So yes, Hapo, that's a strike."

"Strike one!" Hapo called out, the afterthought all too apparent.

Giskard shook his head and primed his stance again. "Lucky shot." He muttered. "I'd like to see you try that one by me again, Mike."

"You sure, Giskard? I can take it easy on you if you like." Mike chuckled. The grizzled youth seemed to crack a grin at that and shook his head.

"Crack that. Just throw the ball already and let's get this over with."

Whiff. Slap.

"Strike two!"

Giskard slammed the head of the baseball bat against the sandfilled sack that served as home plate, and the natives cheered.

Mica threw the ball back to Mike and looked up at Giskard. "Your concentration isn't there, Giskard. You need to focus if you're going to hit the ball."

"Yeah, yeah, focus." Giskard groused. "You know as well as I do that was never my forte, Princess." Mica sighed at that and readied her stance again.

Giskard exhaled loudly, drawing in a slow breath before setting his stance one last time.

Mica's eyes flitted to Mike's, and they locked gazes for a moment. Her own stare seemed to be slightly miffed, and she turned her eyes up to Giskard before looking back at Mike and setting her glove in position.

Perhaps it was the lack of a smile on her face that disturbed Mike enough to reconsider his pitch. Mentally putting his curveball aside, he instead threw a straight shot at medium speed, and Giskard finally connected with a hit, driving it out to the left of Baboo and making a dash for first base. He stopped short of a run onwards as Baboo lobbed the throw to Marlin at second base, but looked exhilarated nonetheless.

"Heh, you almost had a strikeout that time, Mike!" Marlin complimented, throwing the ball towards his friend. Mike chuckled a bit as he caught it, shaking his head.

"Maybe next time." But he was pleased nonetheless that Mica's intent gaze had warmed up into a smile again. He'd obviously guessed her thoughts, and let Giskard nail a hit.

She wasn't such a bad catcher after all, Mike mused. He'd have to show her some of the signs sometime soon, in case they ever did this again.

The game continued on; Mike needed no stern wordless proddings from Mica to let Rozlyn score a grounder that somehow miraculously went between his legs before he could react to reach for it. That had put Giskard on third and Rozlyn on second. Next up came the youthful Coralcolan native, who stared down towards Mike stubbornly and grasped at the club with unsteady hands. Having to play no favorites for Mica's sake, Mike quickly racked up two balls in a row testing the boy's reflexes before he came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be fazed by balls outside of the strike zone. A curveball netted a shot that went foul just short of the first baseline, and a slider popped up high into the air and behind home plate before Mike could shout towards Mica to catch it, giving them strike two.

Mike adjusted his hat and twisted the baseball around in his right hand, squinting down his line of sight. "One shot, Mike…you got one shot before this guy nails another decent one."

He summoned up all his strength, and with one mighty hurl sent the baseball screaming towards home plate.

Whiff. Thwap. "I believe you are out, Eccinulu!!" Shouted Hapo in his jovial tone.

Cheers arose, and a slightly dazed Mica stood up and walked towards Mike as the native simply smiled and shrugged off his loss, handing the bat to Ezilian and strolling towards the bench.

Mica calmly dropped the ball into Mike's glove, glancing up at him. "What was that last one?" She muttered. "You almost knocked me off of my feet that time."

"That was my fastball." Mike explained. "And yeah, those things are made to come hard and fast. As the catcher, you can recommend shots to me."

"How? Shouting them out won't exactly work." Mica said. Mike narrowed one of his eyes into a squint for a moment, thinking.

"No, in baseball, catchers use hand signs. Just remember this one…if you want me to throw a fastball…" Mike quickly curled his right hand into a fist, then extended out his index finger.

A little slow to catch on, Mica repeated the motion two seconds later. "That's right." Mike said with a smile. "See, you're getting this game."

Mica glanced back towards home plate, where Ezilian was nonchalantly readying his stance. "Don't get too cocky, though. We had a game that was similar to this baseball on Argonia, and Ezilian used to be pretty good at it."

"Did he now?" Mike mused, glancing over to him for an instant. "What was he best at?"

"He played whatever position they needed filled, Mike…and he never failed them." Mica warned.

Mike slowly chewed on his lower lip. "Thanks for the tip."

"Just trying to save you some embarrassment, ace." Mica replied quickly, turning back around and running for home plate.

Ezilian didn't even blink as Mica went by him and crouched behind the base, holding her glove at the ready. "What were you two talking about, praytell?" He mused, not once looking down towards her.

Mica similarly refused to glance upwards at him, digging in her shoes into the ground a little harder to brace herself for Mike's next few throws. "Nothing you'd be too concerned about. After all, who's the ace Derdinal player here?"

Ezilian smirked at that and tightened his grip on the bat.

Mike looked over his shoulders to Giskard and Rozlyn for a long moment before pulling into his windup.

"Strike one!" Came the call, and Ezilian's jaw hardened a bit at his missed swing. Mike caught Mica's return throw, tensing up a bit more as the fun of the game suddenly grew very, very far away from him.

He threw again, and Ezilian smashed hard into it. The crowds gasped in wonder as it soared on along the third baseline, some turning towards home plate to where Hapo looked on with scrutinizing eyes towards its flight.

He shook his head and pointed at it. "Foul ball!" Came the cry, and Mike released a not so silent sigh of relief.

"Damn, he's actually good." He grumbled, intercepting Mica's throwback.

Ezilian chuckled a bit to himself, readying his next swing. "I think that one fazed him a bit." He said calmly.

"You know Ezilian, you might do well to focus on one kind of a game at a time."

"Do you say that for my benefit…or his?" Ezilian mused, his smile fading. Mica lowered her head back down and kept quiet.

Mike's next throw was one that Ezilian solidly drove beyond Baboo's range, and as the single outfielder scrambled for the ball, the crowd went wild as Giskard ran the gamut for a run, followed shortly thereafter by little Rozlyn whose dash tore up the grass. Finally, Baboo got a hold of the wayward sphere, hurling it back towards Mike. Ezilian had already rounded past second and was making a dash for third, but Mike made him think twice with a blistering salvo to Bakusian that forced Ezilian to begrudgingly turn around to avoid an out.

"The score is two to zero!" Hapo called out. "One out!"

Bakusian threw the ball back to Mike and smiled it off. "Hey, at least it wasn't a clean sweep."

Mike took a brief glance at Ezilian, edging out from the plate a few feet for his next dash. No, things could have been better.

With such limited teams, it was Giskard's turn at the plate once again. Mike focused a little harder, but Giskard nicked the corner of it and sent it flying up into the air. It was Amethyst back at second who almost absentmindedly caught the pop fly, giving Ezilian a stern glare as he touched his base before she could tag him out for his attempted steal.

"Two outs!"

Ezilian once more inched out from his plate as Rozlyn came back up for a second try, a movement that Mike picked up on very quickly.

"Hotshot." He grumbled a bit to himself. "What, he thinks he can steal himself another run?"

As he glanced down towards Rozlyn, an idea hit him. "Might…Heck, I'll try a crazy plan at least once." He glanced back in Ezilian's direction once, then started his windup. Sure enough, the crowds started cheering, and Mike carried through.

But at the end of his throw, he twisted his body about and lobbed his throw to Bakusian at third, the shot somehow keeping straight despite his skewed angle. Ezilian, who had indeed made a run for it, was caught completely off guard, skidding his run and turning about back for second.

"Bakusian, toss it to Amethyst!!" Mike shouted, dashing towards the space between second and third. Bakusian let out a chirp as he let the ball go with an overhanded throw that lacked speed, but made up for it in aim, landing easily in Amethyst's capable hands.

Ezilian steeled himself away again, reversing direction once more. "Now throw it back!" Mike shouted, breaking into a full run as he went for the baseline in front of Ezilian.

The ball came flying overhead like before…but as Ezilian charged on, paused, and switched for second, thinking to outrun the return throw, Mike became the sand in his cogs.

The ball's flight was halted by a leaping grab from Mike, who had only to take three sweeping leaps to catch up to Ezilian and tap him on the shoulder, ball in hand.

Ezilian froze, looking at Mike in disbelief as the earth boy smiled and plopped the ball back in his mitt.

"You're out." Mike said simply. Ezilian began to fume, stopping himself when Hapo shouted out the same call and called for the players to switch sides. Instead, he held his hand out expectantly for the ball, his fingers curling tightly around the rawhide surface when Mike released it.

"I guess it's my turn then, Jones." Ezilian said guardedly.

Mike nodded. "Guess it is, Ezilian." He turned and headed for home, readjusting his cap as he went.

It took little time to switch sides, but Hapo chose then to step out and speak a little louder.

"Now, just to remind everyone, because we have very few players, Mike has told me that this will be an…an…" He looked back towards Mike pleadingly, who smiled.

"Exhibition match, Mr. Omoy."

"An Exhibition Match!" Hapo picked up with full steam once more. "This means that instead of the usual nine innings allowed for play in a regular game, tonight's match is only one inning. With half of the match over with, Ezilian's team leads two to nothing."

"Great job out there, guys!" Dr. Jones hollered, whistling loudly. Bana, sitting beside the more boisterous archaeologist, simply smiled warmly.

Maybe Mike would have noticed the thrill of the game a little more, were he not so keenly focused on Ezilian's similarly stolid expression. Everyone else was having a wonderful time, though.

"I've got this one covered, Mike!" Marlin heckled, stepping up to the plate and looking back towards his mentor with a grin. Mike managed a smile and nodded, eager to see if his 'pupil' had managed to improve somewhat.

Marlin dug his shoe into the dirt, staring towards Ezilian with determined eyes. The elder Argonian went into his set, throwing the ball with an easy arc. Ezilian swung, and met air.

"Strike one!!" Hapo called out. Ezilian's mask cracked a little as he smiled self confidently, catching Mica's return throw. Mike did his best not to look stunned or nervous as his rival easily tossed two more strikes, sending a discouraged Marlin back to the dugout.

"You'll get him next time, Marlin!" Mica said encouragingly as he dragged the bat behind him. Marlin handed the bat to Amethyst and looked at Mike in shame.

"Sorry, boss. I guess I haven't improved any."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Mike countered, shaking his head. "Your batting stance is stable and allows for maximum kinetic impact on the ball. You were watching the pitcher very carefully, and that always helps…no, your one major flaw is that you seem to squint or blink just before you should connect." Mike lifted a finger. "Fix that and you're gonna start hitting 'em out of the park."

Amethyst was up next, and perhaps because Ezilian let his guard down, managed to easily score a single as it dug into the turf beyond his reach. Next up came Bakusian, who tried to swing at the ball twice with no success before trying a desperate bunt. Like Amethyst's own lucky swing, Bakusian's bunt was an unexpected tactic to Ezilian, leaving him with no outs and runners on first and second.

And then came Mike. He walked casually to the plate and picked up Bakusian's discarded bat, readying himself with a few swings, shutting out the encouraging cheers and whoops from the crowd gathered around the game. Mica looked up at him with her eyes, still holding her stance.

"Nervous?"

"Extremely." Mike said quickly, realizing too late he hadn't given a more confident answer. Mica smiled at his response, muffling a snicker.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Mica answered.

"And me." Hapo said in a conciliatory tone, leaning over her shoulder for a moment. The two teenagers quickly gave the island chief a glare that made him recoil back to his position and not say another word.

"Yes, Ezilian's good, but so are you. And don't ask me to tell you which one of you is better, because that's a value judgement I just can't make." The princess reached her free hand up and moved a bang away from her eyes. "So just relax and take it easy…this is just a game, after all."

"Yeah." Mike shrugged, taking his stance. "I just hope he sees it that way."

Ezilian narrowed his eyes as he stared at Mike long and hard, going into his set once more and throwing a straight shot that whirled into Mica's glove before Mike's swing could connect.

"Strike one!" Hapo called out.

Mike bit his lip. His focus was really gone…Ezilian had him completely psyched out. He stepped away from the batter's box for a moment, shutting his eyes and trying to concentrate. Resigned, he lifted a hand up and lowered his bat. "Time." He called in a weak voice.

Mica got up and walked over to him, arching her eyebrows. "Something wrong, Mike?"

The athletic Jones ran a hand over his eyes, a dull ache beginning to throb in his head. "I…I just can't focus." He replied slowly. "It shouldn't be this hard, baseball's second nature to me…"

Mica blinked a few times, observing his distressed state, and the grimace on his face from a pain he refused to admit to.

"What does it feel like?"

"A headache that just came out of nowhere." Mike grumbled. Mica's eyes widened. "I don't ever remember one coming on this suddenly…"

"No. No, it shouldn't." Mica agreed, her voice stonily grave. She glanced towards Ezilian, leveling a glower that made his cheeks pale as he winced and turned away. "How about now?" She asked, looking back to Mike.

Mike opened his eyes and found the throbbing had already begun to subside. "It's better." He said.

Mica nodded. "Then let's get back to the game, all right?" Not waiting for his reply, she turned and wandered back behind home plate, taking up her position. Mike followed shortly thereafter, feeling a renewed sense of ease as he readied himself.

Ezilian examined the field one last time before hurling his shot. But unlike last time, his own abilities were as shaky as Mike's had been on the last pitch, and the Seattle native tore into it with ease, allowing him to reach first almost casually before the outfield could stop all movement with a frantically hurled throw to home that left the bases loaded.

Marlin stepped up to the plate once again, a determined look on his face. "All right Ezilian. This time, it's gonna be different!" He shouted loudly.

Ezilian's face had become a mask of barely hidden frustration. "We'll see, Dellin. We'll just see."

Strike one.

Ball one.

Ball two.

Strike two.

Ball three.

CrrrrACK.

"It's going!!" Dr. Jones cried out, leaping to his feet as Marlin's one miraculous hit soared high up into the air and over everybody's head, almost going to the edge of the island's southern Cliffside before rolling to a halt.

Stunned, Ezilian whirled back to where Marlin stood, holding the bat in his hands as if seeing it for the first time. A deadened lull fell over everyone for seconds as the batter and pitcher looked towards each other and then to the crowd.

Mike broke the silence with a grand holler and a cry of "GRAND SLAM!!", joined seconds later by a chorus of similar cheers and whistles. Marlin finally broke out into a grin as he began to run the bases, waving and pumping his fist simultaneously.

When he reached home, Mike picked him up by the shoulders and lifted him completely off of the ground, twirling him around. "Ya did it!" Mike cheered, exuberance pouring from his voice. "I knew you could, I knew you could!"

"I did what you said, Mike!" Marlin gushed back. "I didn't close my eyes, I kept my eyes focused on the ball!!"

Mike set Marlin down and ruffled his hair. "Told ya." He chuckled. Marlin blushed again a little bit, but said little else.

The Seattle native felt a light tap on his shoulder, and turned to find himself looking at Mica, smiling at him with her arms folded.

"You did a good job out there today, Michael." She remarked casually. "And thank you for showing us this game…we'll have to do it again sometime."

"Yeah, but a bigger game!" Marlin joked, prodding his friend in the ribs. "One where I can get us a bigger win than 4-2!"

Mike rolled his eyes even as he cracked a smile he couldn't help. "We'll see." He glanced over at Mica. "Hey, you wanna do something?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno." Mike shrugged.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mica could see a furious looking Ezilian marching towards them.

"Now might not be the best time." She replied, her smile fading. "If you'll excuse me, boys."

She turned and walked back towards the village, strolling at a leisurely pace that got her away from the crowds. Mike offered one puzzled glance in her direction before the villagers swarmed him with congratulations and further praise, pulling his attention from her completely.

Mica could feel him behind her. She could even hear him, thanks to his angry thudding footsteps. Despite herself, she tensed up at his approach.

"What was that back there?" Ezilian demanded, his voice almost cracking from the fury he tried to keep bottled.

"What was what?" Mica asked innocently, turning about to face him.

Ezilian snarled. "You blasting me with that dose of starbursts…That's a lousy trick, Mica. You made me lose the game."

"Oh, you mean how you were trying to make Mike lose the game by doing the same thing to him?" Mica countered hotly. Ezilian's comeback was stopped dead at her retort, giving her a chance to continue. "Honestly, I don't know what's going on between you two, but it has to stop. Using Shilivre on Mike…Thinking you could get away with it simply because he has no clue of what it is?! Whatever happened to fair play, to the spirit of competition? That's what this baseball is about, Mike told us."

"I was just trying to put the mongrel in his place is all." Ezilian finally said back.

Mica shook her head, not sure whether she had heard him right. "…what…"

Ezilian took a step closer to her, a menacing air floating around him. "He thinks he is better than me."

"Well, if it's baseball then I think he's proven that he is today."

"So that's what you think then, is it?" He demanded. "You think Mike is better than me?" Mica realized that he was talking in a broader sense, trying to goad her.

"I didn't say that." She replied in a guarded tone. "Ezilian, I don't like your tone of voice at all. Besides, why are you so wound up? Get over it already, he's a good man. More than that, he saved us. He holds Ellini in his grasp and power, and he defeated Zoda…a feat none of us, not even my father, rest his soul…could do." As she continued to speak, memories she had tried so desperately to work past rose to the surface and made her eyes begin to rim with tears.

"Ellini is not his to wield." Ezilian barked. "I don't know how he got it, or if it is even the true Ellini…but whether it is the same weapon that the Starseer used countless years ago or simply a representation of it, I cannot stand to let a mongrel Earther like HIM possessing it."

"Shut up." Mica finally snapped back. "Just SHUT UP! You've always been so elitist, so superior to everyone else. Well, guess what?! We're not on Argonia anymore, Argonia probably doesn't even EXIST!! Here, you're not nobility and I'm not the heir to Sellarus' throne! We're just kids, damnit, just a pack of kids! So get it through your head this instant…that your superior attitude is going to have to go. Here, you're just another face, and if you can't deal with that fact, then I don't know why Mike ever bothered to pull you from your stasis cube!"

Ezilian rolled his eyes. "When I went free, we all did…without my cube, none of us would be free. Did you consider that?"

Mica felt the horrifying memories of the darkness of the green stasis cube rise up fresh in her once again, and the last of her mental resistance died.

"Perhaps you are willing to forget your place, and reach for a simpler lifestyle." Ezilian finished bitterly. "Never mind the fact such thoughts are traitorous to all we left behind, and traitorous especially to your father. No, I suppose then it's my job as your superior, both in age and reason, to remind you of your obligations. So you can forget it, Mica. I won't change for this dumpy little island, and I won't change for this entire world." He took another step closer to her, his breath blowing against her forehead. "I will not let you change, Mica. Not for that Earthling Jones or for anybody else."

Mica brushed the tears from her eyes and turned towards the village. "Leave me alone, Ezilian. Just…please…just leave me alone."

Ezilian watched her go, almost running towards her residence in the small village. Grimly, he shook a fist in her direction and shouted after her.

"You can't escape your destiny, Seremichaela! You can't outrun your duty!!"

Mica bolted completely out of earshot at that, leaving a frustrated Ezilian to pound his fist against a nearby coconut tree. He waited a few moments to compose himself, then walked towards the village as well.

In the shadows of a larger patch of trees, a confused Mike stared after the display, shaking his head.

Life on Coralcola was far from perfect anymore.

---

June 25th, 1990 A.D.

11:02 P.M.

Mica hadn't remained at Bana's hut; not long after the game, the shaman had finished her nightly chants and settled into bed, fast asleep with her noiseless breathing in minutes.

She didn't remember how long it had taken her to get to the northern shore of the island, or even if she had ran or merely walked. Her mind was concentrated on very little of her surroundings, far too embedded in memories of long ago and far away.

It was all the more shocking then when she felt a gentle pair of hands drape a heavy length of material around her shoulders, and she jumped in surprise.

Michael Jones' reassuring chortle came from beside her as the human boy sat down beside her and smiled.

"Whatever happened to that excellent hearing of yours? I thought it was impossible for me to sneak up on you." He teased.

Mica's long and delicate ears twitched as she blushed at his comment, finally realizing he had put a long coat around her. She drew it tighter around herself to push away the slowly growing chill of the evening and shrugged. "I can only hear you if I'm listening, Michael."

"Mica, you don't have to use my full name." The Seattle native grimaced, rubbing at his unkempt brown hair. "Just call me Mike…everyone does."

"Hmph." Mica nodded, looking back out to the sea. "It's too early in the evening for you to be having another nightmare…So what are you doing here?"

"Looking out for a good friend." Mike replied easily. "You seemed out of it…and given the fact that we just had ourselves a rather marvelous exhibition match of baseball, I would think that you'd be thrilled."

"Ordinarily, I would be." Mica mused, glancing at him. "But if memory serves, you looked on today's affair with a fair amount of trepidation as well."

"Yeah, but in the end, everything worked out all right." Mike said with a laugh.

"Why? Because you won?"

"No, because everyone ended up having a good time." Mike countered. Mica closed her eyes and looked back out to the sea, and a perturbed Mike corrected himself. "Well…I suppose almost everyone did."

"I apologize." Mica said softly. "You shouldn't have to see this…And yet, here you are." She glanced at him, a twinge of irritation flaring for a moment. "Why must you always come here when I do, Mike? Why must you always pester me so?"

"You live in the nearest thing to paradise there is…And yet you're still so absorbed in your pain." Mike noted. He lifted a hand and waved it in a circle. "Look at this place! It's totally radical, there's never a sad moment! So why is it that you always have to switch back to a sour mood?"

Mica's face gained a pensive stare to it. "Because…because even though I try to forget, even though I do my best to escape the past, it always comes back to me." She shook her head. "I was the Princess of an entire planet…the heir to the legacy of Sellarus. In one horrific moment, all that was shattered and I became a refugee, trapped inside a cube for twenty years where I never aged, never slept, but was kept fully, maddeningly conscious."

"But you made it out…you're here now." Mike pointed out. "So what's keeping you from just being a kid again?"

"Obligations…and duties." Mica said bitterly. "Promises long kept, oaths sworn…Damn them."

"Eh?"

"You have no idea how much responsibility I bear, do you?" Mica mused. "I am the sole symbol of hope for my people."

"What, all six of them?" Mike snapped back. Mica recoiled in anger at his statement, picking herself up and throwing off his coat. "Wait!" Mike called after her, realizing too late just how hurtful his statement had truly been.

Her eyes were already filling with tears when he caught up to her and set a hand on her shoulder, stopping her escape.

"I'm sorry." He apologized. "I didn't mean…I didn't mean to say it like that."

"It still hurts." Mica replied. She reached a hand up to her eyes and brushed the tears away. "I know that we're the only seven left…Being reminded of that fact does little to improve my mood."

"So what are you talking about, with obligations and duties?" Mike pressed.

"I am supposed to keep myself strong willed for their sake."

"Besides that." Mike said shortly. Her eyes met with his, and he didn't break away. "I know there's more to what you're saying, Miss Argos."

Mica's eyes began to brim with tears again and she turned away from him.

"I…I should have been more honest with you a long time ago. But I didn't think we'd ever become such good friends. I wanted to deny myself that it might happen, and that it was happening…" She sniffled a bit, still not looking at him. "Mike, you are one of the strangest fellows I've ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have been keeping a lot bottled up inside, something that you've told me wasn't healthy. Somehow, I know I can trust you…perhaps more than I can trust anybody else here." She finally turned, her eyes red as she shook her head at him. "And…I was told once, that if two people were to truly understand one another…That they wouldn't keep secrets from each other."

Mike nodded slowly, absorbing her tearful statement. "I don't want secrets to keep us apart, Mica. You're too good of a friend for that." He cracked a smile. "Besides, who else am I supposed to talk to in the early hours of the morning?"

Mica laughed a little at that, causing Mike to feel a hint of satisfaction echo in him. "Something's kept me wondering though…You and Ezilian have been acting weird all day."

"That." Mike affirmed, shutting his eyes. "Well…" He mulled for a moment, considering his options, "…He and I don't exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things. But the biggest thing he hates about me is the time I spend with you." He opened his eyes back up and ran a hand through his hair. "But that's just silly of him, right? You're your own person, you can make your own decisions. Ezilian doesn't have any power over you, and yet he acts like he owns you or something."

Mica grew silent at that, and Mike's impish grin faded again. "…He doesn't…does he?"

"In a way, Mike…he does." Mica answered back hollowly. Sympathy almost radiated from her, and she sniffled. "No secrets, Mike. So I won't keep this one from you."

Mike's throat went dry, a sense of dread starting at his feet and running up to his shoulders, ending in a shiver that died before it started. A hundred thoughts ran through his head, each more horrible than the last about what she was getting at…what exactly her secret was.

"A long time ago, since the day I had been born, my parents had followed the customs of our people. One such custom had been one largely ignored until recent times…concerning the lineage of the royal family." Mica began unsteadily, but pressing on with a further and more determined air at every syllable. "In a sense, Ezilian Ranuforte does own me…"

Don't say it, Mike thought feverishly, stunned at the thought until he realized why he had thought it. All this time…He felt like slapping himself, because now he knew why her sadness frustrated him to no end, why when he was around her, things seemed to slow down to a pace that just seemed right.

And now, as his heart sank, he recognized that realization had come too late…years late, for that aspect of her life he had subconsciously hoped to fill…

"I am betrothed to Ezilian." Mica finished quietly. "Upon the day of maturation…he is to become my husband, and the new king of Argonia."

Mike shook his head back and forth, refusing to accept it. "But…you said that your planet…was…"

"Where there are Argonians…there is Argonia." Mica interrupted him, her voice beginning to break down. She shook her head again, seeming to grow heavier as she did. "Duty…obligation…As much as I try to escape it, he keeps it alive, they keep it alive!!" Her head swung back and forth at a new and feverish tempo, and choking sobs came forth. "I don't want it, Mike, I don't want it anymore!!"

Mike felt something else slam into his head outside of her piercing cries then as well, a sudden stab of a sensation that made him shiver…and a moment later, comprehend the feeling as intense and overwhelming grief that tried to flood out everything else.

His experience with Zoda…was a darker version of what had just happened to him then. But at a base level, it was the same…the grief was Mica's, he sensed that much. Head swimming with the pain that Seremichaela Argos had thrown upon him, along with his own doubts and frustrations, Mike could say nothing.

Instead, he simply took two steps towards her and held her close, silently comforting her as her body shook with sobs and hidden tensions that had finally come to bear.

Her knees gave out and she began to collapse to the ground, so he fell with her, guiding her fall until they leaned against one another…

Eventually, her cries faded into the night and ended. And in time, Mike got her back to her hut before taking a long, sobering, and depressing trip back to his own space in his Uncle's laboratory. He looked up, running a hand through his hair again, no longer sure what to feel or how to act. He noticed something in the stars, though, that seemed to sympathize with Mica's feelings. They glistened brighter that night…

As if they too, were crying.