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?

6. Storm's Fury

STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

CHAPTER FIVE: STORM'S FURY

"Archaeologists have long speculated over who the Starseer was…Beyond the legend, who was the man? Shilivre and Ellini aside, he had been somebody before the Sun's Loss, and afterwards, he was famous, but lost to us. What we do know is that he was of the northern tribes…He came from the lands on Argonia where snow and rain were the constants, and the sun the rarity. Furthermore, he was unknown. No record of his real name exists, but this is not surprising. It seems surprising that so famous a person, so critical a figure in our history would remain obscured in myth and legend…

In the end, we cease to worry if he was real or not, and we believe what we will.

The Starseer, just as with Shilivre, is more a matter of faith than reality."

-Tervar Gronusk, Argonian Healer

---

It would have been too simple for him to simply turn about into the mountains of the north and vanish as unpredictably as he had come; For as much as he wanted that to be how destiny played out, the ringing second line in his vision was bringing out a further continuation to this line.
He could hear her approach in the background; that was the one remarkable thing about their people, they all had exceptional hearing. He shut his eyes, bowing his head down and praying a second time, to the spirits in the stars above, that she wasn't doing this.

But she was. And it was that which tore him apart.

At last, she came close enough by her harried pace that he was within earshot of her pants, and her soft and gentle voice. "No...don't leave..."
He opened his eyes and stood tall, Ellini dangling at his side with its chain links brushing lightly against the sharp studded head that glimmered like the stars themselves. In an casual outfit, thick enough to give comfort in the foreboding climates of the mountains which he had come from, he no longer looked like the mythical 'Starseer' that all the rest of his people clamored to praise him as.
"Sellarus." He began, his voice cracking from the strain. "I can't stay." He turned about, his wild reddish brown hair waving in the wind beside his face, only heightening the bright blue eyes that gave him the sight that had made him a savior...Eyes that threatened to break out in tears.
She stood against the wind that blew down the mountainside, her own face already tear-stricken and her simple, worn dress rolling gently around her. Sellarus Argos...even now, as beautiful as when they had first met. "Why do you have to leave?"
Angrily, he screamed a silent blasphemy at the spirits above. He felt terrible for doing this, but he knew she felt worse. But destiny had written their stories...and he knew he could not interfere. If their people were to survive, then all would have to carry out as he knew it so. And there, he damned the double edged sword he had been given...

The Star Devils. The Sun's Loss. Out of the very heavens that his people revered, vile invaders of potent force and unspeakable horror had come, with only the single invasive thought of extermination. Their population, once whole and strong, grazing their world like the flocks they tended, had been scattered into pieces, little pockets that hid out deep underneath the earth and waited for a day when the sun would return. Sellarus...Sellarus and her tribe had been the one he had come to, after his awakening. It was her people who had helped him to overcome the Devils and push them back into the oblivion from where they had once come.
Ellini...his weapon, had been his arm, long and reaching, striking all down who dared to cross him. But even more importantly than that had been the gift that the spirits of the stars themselves, in the high mountains, had given to him.
They had opened his eyes...shown him the true nature of the Star Devils, not as undefeatable monsters, but beings all too frail, but with a thirst for dominance that overrode all. And he had been given the gift that they called 'Shilivre'...
Only with all of them had he been able to overcome the Star Devils. Only with Sellarus' help, the bravest woman of the village who had befriended him after his coming, had he been able to triumph over the leader of the Star Devils, a beast that had the night billow out behind him, whose eyes glowed like coalfire, and whose head had been a solid horned block of glimmering stone.
Only Sellarus. He had used his own strength to awaken hers...for what he had found was that his strength could imbue others as well. But more than that, as they fought, as they struggled, and as they lived, he found where there had once been a woman driven by desperation and rage at their state, a newer one of resolve, tenacity, and steely determination had arisen.

And he, like the fool he had been, had fallen in love with her, and she, as only fate could dictate, with him as well.
"I cannot stay." He said hollowly, feeling his heart fracture apart even more. "My...my place is not here, I do not belong."
"LIAR!" Sellarus screamed, a scream not of anger, but desperation. Soon after came the choking sobs, and a locus of light began to surround her. The light of Shilivre, the light he had given her, now reached out towards him as only she could make it, and touched his mind. And he knew...knew her pain, knew her anguish, knew how by even walking towards that mountain, by turning away from the others, by turning away from her...he was killing her. She collapsed onto her knees, still sobbing. "...Liar..."
He could not ignore her. His vision blared angrily, told him he had to leave.

Damn his vision.
In moments, he was on the ground beside her, pulling her close into him and gently stroking her back, feeling the spasms of pain fade away and her sobs lessen. His heartbeat, his scent, and his gentle touch had always calmed her, as it did now.
"I'll die without you." Sellarus gasped, burying her face into his shoulder. "I love you, don't you get that?"
"You can't love me." He whispered back, fighting his own tears. "Don't you get it?? I'm not in control here...If I was...Oh, if I WAS...I would forget everything. I would die just to stay with you, and I would pull my eyes out and live blind in your warmth!"

"You're not being controlled!" She argued with another sob. "I don't care what the others say...I don't care if you're the Starseer, I don't care about the Star Devils, and I don't care about destiny!"
I...All I care about...Is you...
The vision came again, clear, defined, persistent. Once more, it blared out its omniscient will, the course of his life, and her life. Two threads, skimming ever so close...
Then veering sharply apart. Now.
"I put you in charge." He said, his voice so soft it was nearly a whisper, if only for the fact that he no longer trusted himself to put out a louder volume and not collapse from his own grief. "I cannot guide them to rebuild...I cannot be there for them. You have to be, Sellarus. They need you...they need a leader. And if anybody can be the leader of our people, then it is you."
"Queen..." She mumbled bitterly. "Queen Argos. What good is that title? It won't bring you back to me...it won't keep you from running off!"
And his voice finally did crack; his adam's apple swelled up, and he lost his ability to speak. Tears emerged from the corners of his eyes, and looking down into the magenta irises of her beautiful complexion, he lost himself.
Their kiss came without warning; fierce and hungry, the two latched onto each other, negating air itself as their tongues danced about. They both wanted it, both needed it...
And the visions still rang out. He broke away, and the abruptness in that move only made her fall apart even more.
"I love you...I always will." Sellarus said, slamming her palms to the dirt. "Take that away, and I'm nothing but a shell of what I once was. I can't go on without you."
"But you must live." The Starseer said, distant and sad. "Without you, our people will not rebuild...without you, the line will not continue, and far worse tragedies will befall them."
"I don't want to live in a life without you in it." Sellarus stated again, her lower lip quivering. "Don't you get that?!"

In the blossoming night, The Starseer bowed his head.

---

Coralcola Island

June 29th, 1990

9:01 A.M.

Mike stirred from his restless slumber, eyes dazedly trying to focus as the sounds of the world came back to him with ear-pounding fullness. Unable to manage even that much, he sunk back weakly into his bed, suffering to let his body act as weak as it felt.

A small haze slowly left him, taking with it the few lingering images from his dream. Or…what had to be a dream. A man and a woman, at the edge of great snowy mountains. The woman's face stayed the longest, her grief.

Mica…Mica?? No…Not Mica, but…somehow, she was…

The events of the previous day came back to him in a flash, and his eyes opened wide for a moment as a hand shot down to his leg…

But there was no jagged wound left. The skin felt intact, whole. As if the injury had never taken place…but he could still feel the spot on his thigh where the massive sea serpent's fang had passed clean through. Even a ghost pain was recognizable.

Exhaling softly for a moment, the Seattle native shook his head. "And just when I thought it was safe to wake up."

The ceiling clicked into focus, and he recognized his surroundings. They'd taken him back to his bedroom in his Uncle's laboratory, out in the middle of Coralcola lagoon.

After he'd brought Ezilian back, no worse for wear. His own injuries…no, they couldn't have healed this fast. Not by himself.

So either it was several days later…

Or Mica had gone ahead and healed him when he was unconscious.

Not one to ever be prone for sleep of any unusual length, the boy bet on the second option, struggling to pull himself up.

Tired muscles ached and argued against him, but Mike growled and brought his weary thoughts to bear.

Some days, I just wish I could wake up feeling refreshed…

A small, but noticeable locus of light surrounded his limbs for a flickering moment, then vanished leaving him with a physically enervated feeling. Slinging himself up into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, Mike closed his eyes.

Shilivre…again, beyond my control.

Mica had tried to teach him how to use it, how to wield it. But his utter failure at utilizing the 'basic' Shockwave had humbled him to a great extent. It was a power that was unreliable, and haphazard at best.

"At least that means I can't be the Starseer." Mike Jones mumbled. He hoped beyond hope that dreams would always remain just that.

---

After a long shower, which removed the rest of the weariness from his aching joints and limbs, Mike slipped into a pair of blue jeans, his usual sneakers…but he looked at his closet of shirts for a few moments, feeling somehow different.

It wasn't a white T-Shirt that he reached for, he realized a few moments later as he slipped it on, but a blue one.

Funny, he thought. He hadn't worn too many of his blue T-Shirts since his adventure. Maybe because so many of them had tears and rips from his efforts. The one he put on that morning had somehow avoided the usual roughhousing, and for that, he was glad.

Obeying the needs of his growling stomach, Mike trudged out of the laboratory's living quarters, walking towards the kitchen. He paused as he walked down the stairs of the living room, looking on in awe and reverence at the sleeping girl on his couch.

Mica. She was nestled comfortably underneath a thick set of comforters, but even in sleep, there was a line of worry to her face he could pick up on at once.

"You crazy girl." Mike whispered quietly, shaking his head down at her. She made no motion to indicate that she'd heard him, still stuck in her uneasy slumber. Mike smiled for a moment, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

That motion met with results; she stirred under his light touch, her head moving left and right for a moment before she opened his eyes and looked up at him.

She smiled back at him after a moment, and Mike rested his hand on hers. "Morning." He said quietly.

"Good morning." Mica said back to him.

"You…Have you been here all night?" Mike asked, kneeling down next to the couch.

Mica closed her eyes, thinking for a moment before she nodded. "What you went up against…We were all worried about you."

"But you, more than most other people." Mike observed quietly. "Why?"

Mica looked at him as if he was stupid. "Do you really need to ask that?"

Mike pressed his forehead against hers. No.

Mica exhaled softly. You really are stupid…stupid and crazy.

Mike backed away. "How long was I out?"

"Just a night." The Princess replied, lurching herself into a sitting position and yawning, stretching her body out.

"And…Ezilian? How's he doing?"

Mica gave him another look. "Better than you were." She seemed to gauge her surroundings, looking about for a few moments.

Mike finally took the time to examine her. Her hair was bedraggled, she was wearing a T-Shirt several times too large for her, and a pair of sleeping shorts and socks.

She'd never been more beautiful, he thought to himself.

There was still a sense of tension about her, in her shoulders and the way she stared distantly beyond him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, resting his hand on hers.

"Nothing…everything." Mica struggled. "Monsters in the caverns? Baboo tried to get a hold of Dr. Jones last night after you passed out…we couldn't reach them."

"Well, if I recall the ruins at Howduyadocola, it's a pretty extensive network." Mike rationalized. "He is with Ezilian, after all…They likely were just away exploring. First day excitement and all."

"…Maybe." Mica whispered. "But what if the monsters returned there too?"

Mike closed his eyes. "Giskard…he has my yo-yo. They'll be all right." There wasn't much faith in his voice, and it carried a mental note. I hope…

The Princess turned to him. "I'm worried, Mike. It's…I don't know. A lot of things didn't feel right last night…a sense of dread I couldn't fight off. Something is happening, I don't know what, and that frustrates me."

"Dwelling on it…won't do you any good." Mike answered after a pause. "At some point, you just have to push your doubts and suspicions aside and move on with life. They'll do nothing but hinder you…Just like nightmares."

Mica blinked for a few moments, then smiled up at him. "I take it you're speaking from experience then?"

"Of course." Mike said, his mood brightening. "If I didn't, then how could I believe any of the junk I talk about?" The Princess giggled a little bit at that, but seemed less tense. Just the effect he'd wanted.

"Well, we'd best get the day started." Mike began. He stood up and smiled down at her. "You go get showered and dressed for the day…And I'll go start on breakfast."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking waffles." Mike replied, grinning. "You ever had waffles?"

The Princess shook her head. "I'll try not to be too long." She answered, climbing off of the couch and heading upstairs to the master bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, Mica ventured into the kitchen, ready for another day and looking incredibly refreshed. She wore another one of her red sundresses, a favorite in her new life. Mike was over at the corner of the kitchen's countertops, pulling a pair of brown checkered squares from a small appliance.

"So this is what a waffle looks like?" Princess Mica asked slowly.

Mike separated the two and put them on separate plates. "Ideally, yes. I've seen them darker, but that just means that you likely burned them. Now, a trick to waffles. I like to usually have mine with melted butter and powdered sugar, but you can really put whatever you want into them. A bonus to the squares in them."

Mica looked on the table, blinking. "Maple syrup…" She read from one bottle, turning to the bowl of red colored fruits next to it. "And what's this?"

"Strawberries." Mike answered, putting her waffle in front of her. "I didn't know what you liked, so I thought I'd give you a few choices. Maple syrup, powdered sugar, spray whipped cream, butter, powdered sugar, and…strawberries." Mike looked at the assortment and smirked.

"What's so funny?" Mica asked, tentatively reaching for the bowl of sliced strawberries.

"You really wouldn't need any of these toppings." Mike teased. "You're sweet enough as it is." Mica rolled her eyes at his joke, but couldn't hide the mirth in them. Mike smiled. He saw, and knew.

Five minutes later, Mica pushed the plate towards the middle of the table and look another long draw on her second glass of ice water, sighing. "Well, I've figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Mike asked, having plowed through his own breakfast with ease, already leaning back and looking towards her.

"What I like on my waffle." Mica said after a moment, smiling at him in the way that made the dimples in her cheeks rise up. "Whipped cream and strawberries."

Mike chuckled. "Somehow, I could have guessed that."

"Oh?" Mica said coyly, getting up and carrying her dishes to the kitchen sink. "And how could you guess that?"

Mike didn't say anything, letting a gentle silence overwhelm the room. Mica finally turned about, curious as to why he was so quiet.

He leaned on the kitchen table with one elbow, resting his cheek against his fist as he gazed at her with a gentle, observing smile. "Because I know you."

Mica blushed at the gesture, pushing her hair away from her long ears as they arched upwards. "You are a hopeless fool some days."

"But ya love me."

Mica closed her eyes and shook her head, going back into the living room. "Come on, Michael. We can't just hang around the laboratory all day."

"Sure we can!" Mike laughed loudly after her. "We'll just make everyone wonder what we're doing, is all!"

Mica walked out of the room, hiding the giddiness that she felt.

Back in the kitchen, Mike took his own dishes to the sink and started washing them. Not once did he stop smiling.

He didn't feel like it. Things got weird on occasion. But right now, at the moment in time he was at…nothing else mattered but Mica, and his ecstatic feelings of her and towards her.

"She loves me." Mike whispered to himself, grinning wider, almost not believing it. "She loves me."

---

Bana Omoy's hut was filled with a lifetime's worth of strange items and more; the heritage of all the shamans before her had been dutifully kept, and she had only added to it over the years. Many were kept on her desk, but all those had been pushed aside in a sweep of her hand. A single candle on her desk, kept burning in a glass lantern provided the only illumination she needed, head pounding as the shaman scribbled across a sheaf of paper furiously with her quill pen, stopping only to freshen the ink before continuing on.

I should have known better than to lower my guard…now, it might be too late. Too late for any of us…

Briefly, she recalled how she had met with Mica, and revealed in her own way how her mystical power could provide some level of competition. But while she could form explosive bolts of energy like Ezilian, and presumably, the rest could, she had an oracular sense that was tied to her. This was what the Argonians lacked.

It was why she was the shaman in the first place. To predict the coming seasons, to sense good or ill omens…

For the last week or so, she had felt little but ill omens. The last one, which had woken her up in a cold sweat early this morning, had been what prompted her into writing so furiously. If only to put to paper the things she'd long kept bottled up…things that would have to be told after the storm hit. It would be the biggest one they had ever seen, and it would take a few lives to begin with…

More, if they didn't act in time.

A hand pushed through the curtains of her door, followed shortly thereafter by the head of one of the Argonians. "Miss Omoy?" Amethyst called out, looking around in the darkness, squinting her eyes. She eventually noticed the human shape at the desk, hunched over something. "Shaman Omoy, is that you?"

The shaman paused, turning up from her work for the briefest of moments. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Amethyst asked timidly.

"If you did not have a good reason to be here, you would not be. Go ahead and explain yourself." Bana remarked gruffly, wincing at the hostility in her tone. The girl was similarly cowed.

"The Island Chief wanted to see you for a bit this morning, if that would be all right." Amethyst said quickly, vanishing back outside.

The shaman exhaled her held breath, drawing a hand over her eyes. "My fool of a brother." She muttered to herself. Her other hand lifted away from the paper, and she stared down at it for a few moments before scribbling two more sentences.

It will have to do. I've done what I can for them.

Moving as if every joint in her body ached after a tremendous bout of blanket weaving, Bana Omoy folded the paper up and slipped it into an envelope. On the front, she scrawled one last line of text, then slipped the finished product into the sleeve of her dress. She looked at herself in the mirror as she headed for the door, slowly and unsteadily.

For once, only shadows loomed in her sight. "May the Southern Cross keep watch on us all." She whispered softly, turning away before she could catch the empty glaze she knew was in her eyes.

Chief Omoy's hut was empty, outside of the Chief himself. He was sitting at his table, going over the wooden slat that served as the fishing counter he used to keep track of the Coralcolan's daily catches. "Hmm." He murmured to himself, scrawling another few tick marks into the board. "North end of the bay's starting to run a little low…We'll have to move to the south end for a while." He was so busy pondering the island's basic functions that he did not notice his sister entering his large hut, or even walking over to him. Only when she sat down beside him did the Chief look up and grunt in surprise. "Eh? Oh, it's you, Bana."

The Shaman folded her arms inside of her sleeves, face emotionless. "Now what's so important you would have one of the children send for me, brother?"

Hapo pushed his work aside and cleared his throat. "These omens of yours…And the monsters coming back…The islanders are worried."

"As they should be." Bana replied easily. "A storm not seen for countless years is returning to the islands of the Southern Cross."

"Another typhoon?" Hapo asked worriedly. "Like the one that took our parents?"

Bana's eyes flickered, and she jerked her head to the side, unable to look at him. "No, brother. Far worse. A storm that brings back the evil spirits and creatures of the caverns of these holy islands. Yesterday, Mike was nearly lost saving Ezilian from some of that storm's work."

Hapo put an arm on her shoulder. "So what can we do, then? How do we stop it?"

Bana chuckled at that. "Stop it? What do you mean? We could no sooner prevent the trauma from this event than we could save our parents from that storm years before."

Hapo stood up, his already dark and tanned face growing deeper from the blood that rushed to it. "That doesn't help me save them." Hapo snapped. "Bana, I'm the Chieftain of this village, and I have an obligation to keep my people out of danger!"

Bana looked up to him, at last showing some emotion. "And did I have a solution for you…I would offer it." She lowered her head. "There are days…Days that I wish I did not have the gift of our family. Some times, it can be helpful." She extended her hand out of her sleeve, glancing at it as she curled her fingers. "But then…there are times when I receive my visions, and can do nothing to change it. A helpless bystander…to the inevitable." Bana pulled her hand back into her sleeve. "Perhaps it can be changed…maybe destiny can be overridden. Some have said that a prediction is only as true as you let it be. But if that is the case…and we can change fate…It is not in my power to do so. I am no breaker of the star's will. I am just a vessel for their message…unable to change it, however terrible it is."

Bana looked up at him, her face sunken. "I will not miss that frustrated hopelessness when my time to leave this world comes."

Hapo blinked at her, stunned. "But that is not for some time yet."

Bana slowly stood up, pulling her brother into a tight embrace. She kissed him on the cheek, then gave him a weak smile as she backed away. "Only the stars know for sure."

Hapo picked up his wooden slat and headed for the door. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Nothing to do but just face life as it comes, eh?"

"Brother." Bana said sharply as he reached the curtain to his abode's entrance. The Island Chief turned about, his thick brown eyes looking back at her.

Bana closed her eyes. "I don't know how much this will help…if it will help at all…But you might want to get everyone to think of something to do inside of their huts late this afternoon." She opened her eyes and nodded at him. "Maybe the storm will leave them alone then."

Hapo nodded at her, then turned and left the house.

When he was gone, Bana reached inside her sleeve and pulled out the letter she had spent most of the morning writing. With great care and thought, she placed it on his dining table, then rested an empty coconut bowl over an edge of the letter.

She fought back the tears that threatened to rise to her face. Any time for grief had long since ended.

"Take care of yourself, brother. After today, you will be the only thing that this village has left."

---

While many of the other villagers had slipped back into their routines, the same could not be said for the Argonians. Bakusian was strangely absent from the cookfires of Coralcola Village, Marlin's laughter wasn't echoing about the huts, and Ezilian was similarly absent when Mike and Mica finally came from Dr. Jones' laboratory.

They were walking hand in hand as they approached the village, an unconscious gesture the two had easily fallen into with the serene image that the island offered. When Mica could begin to hear the laughter of the natives, though, she slowly moved to extract her hand from Mike's gentle grip.

The boy stopped walking, then turned to look at her. "What's wrong, Mica?"

The Princess blushed a bit, her ears flattening against the sides of her head. "Well, I'm not sure if we should go into the village holding hands or not…People might talk."

Mike smiled back at the girl, slowly shaking his head. "They know that we're an item, right?"

"…Yes."

"Then let them talk." Mike said easily. "As long as we have that, little else matters." His hand gently squeezed hers again, causing Mica to smile back.

"Are all your solutions to life's little problems this simple?"

"Most, yeah." Mike replied, as they started walking towards the village again. "Simple works."

Mica looked around as they walked in. "Something…seems a little different today."

Mike followed her gaze, not as observant as she was from the getgo. "Hmm? Like what?"

Mica frowned a bit. "Doesn't the village seem a little empty today?"

Mike looked around again. "Uhh…no?"

"Oh, come on." Mica scoffed. "All right, I'll clarify. What's different about the cookfires?"

Mike squinted his eyes, wondering for a few moments if in his good mood, he'd lost a portion of his mental capacity. Then the answer hit him, and he shook his head.

"Oh…Yeah. So where is Bakusian?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Mica replied.

Hapo Omoy strolled up to them, munching on a vegetable stalk, but not nearly as glumly as he had in the past. "Well, good morning you two."

"Morning, Chief." Mike echoed. "Say, where is everyone?"

The Chief blinked at him. "Right here, as always…"

Mica shook her head, her dark red hair bouncing over her elfin ears. "No, no. He means the other Argonians."

"Oh!" Hapo exclaimed, realization coming to him. "Well, Amethyst and Rozlyn are around here somewhere…but the boys left right after breakfast this morning, going to the south end of the island."

"I see." Mica mused, pulling away from Mike and folding her arms in thought. "Strange…Did they go fishing?"

"No, miss Mica. They didn't take anything to play with with them when they left."

The Princess glanced her eyes towards Mike, who shrugged in a similar clueless fashion. "Just what could they be doing?"

"Well, it's Ezilian, Bakusian, and Marlin." Mike answered. "Knowing that mix, not a whole lot. Still, I was going to see what Marlin was going to be doing later today anyhow…I might as well drop by and say hello."

"You sure that's a wise idea?" Mica asked cautiously. "You and Ezilian still aren't on the best of terms…"

"Ezilian's not really on good terms with anyone." Mike rebutted. "But that's more a product of his attitude than anything. At heart, he's harmless."

"Yesterday seemed to give a different indication."

"Yesterday at lunch, I hadn't saved him from another sea serpent." Mike smiled. "Don't worry, Mica. I'll be fine. We had our own little talk…we're not friends, but we're cool."

The Chief looked at Mike, confused. "In this weather? How?"

Mike chuckled. "It's an expression, Chief. Sorry about that."

Mica smiled weakly at him. "You're funny that way…once your mind is set on something, you don't let it go."

Mike nodded. "Anything else I need to pass on while I'm there?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." The Chief said calmly. "My sister has predicted a terrible storm in the very near future. After lunch, any help they could give in weatherproofing the huts would be welcome."

Mica frowned. "The huts? Bana once told me that in terrible storms, the villagers would hide in the Coralcola tunnels."

Mike pulled Mica into a hug, shaking his head when he pulled away from her. "Those tunnels aren't safe anymore." He nodded to the Chief. "I'll tell 'em what you asked me to."

With that, Mike charged off at a brisk jog for the southern shores of the island, trying his best to remain in high spirits. It wouldn't pay to feel depressed or confused.

Stick to what you know…And don't think too hard about the things you don't.

---

Coralcola's South Shore

The three Argonian boys were sweatsoaked from their exertions, and Bakusian was breathing heavily as well. Still, Ezilian thought through his gritted, grinning teeth, it was sweat and frustration for a reason.

"Once again, fellas…Build it within, charge it in your hand, and let it fly!"

Marlin, Bakusian, and between them, Ezilian, all let out a ferocious scream of anger, dazzling white auras sparkling around them as encased bolts of Shilivre, what Ezilian called the "Shockwave", burst free from their hands and shot off over the shoreline to the open sea beyond.

After their three shots faded into the distance, their brief potency slowly dissipating as they left their line of sight, the boys relaxed. Bakusian collapsed onto his back, and Marlin fell back into a sitting position. Ezilian swooned where he stood, but kept his footing.

The eldest boy ran his arm along his brow, wiping away the sweat that threatened to drip down in his eyes. "That's not bad…not bad at all."

"Terrific." Marlin huffed, slumping forward a little. "Now can we take a break?"

"So this is where you all ran off to!" A cheerful voice called out from the stairs leading away from the beach to the island's grassy main level. Ezilian froze for a moment, then turned about. As he suspected, it was Mike.

Resisting the urge to clench his fists up and let another Shockwave blast fly, Ezilian gave one brief nod of his head, eyes never leaving the approaching youth.

"All right, fellas." Ezilian said guardedly. "Take a break."

Mike jogged up to them, still smiling. "Morning, all."

Marlin waved at him. "Hey, Mike." All Bakusian could muster was a weak raise of his arm before he collapsed again. Ezilian looked at the movement and shook his head.

"So what are you all up to that's gotten poor Bakusian so winded?" Mike asked, looking at Ezilian.

The eldest Argonian boy stared right back at him. "Training." He looked around a bit and nodded. "After yesterday's little…adventure…I thought it might be best if I didn't give these fellows a refresher course on the martial uses of my people's gift."

"In other words…" Marlin chuckled weakly, running a hand through his hair, "Shilivre 101."

Mike nodded. "That's not a bad idea…Especially if we ever need to get down in the caverns again. Your talents could prove to be the winning edge if we have to fight off more critters."

Ezilian's face remained expressionless. "And why would we be going back down there again? You have a death wish or something?"

Mike's cheerful demeanor vanished in a blink. It was obvious that Ezilian wasn't in the mood for such niceties. "You just reminded me why I came here."

"Then by all means, go ahead." Ezilian replied. "We were taking a break anyhow."

"Chief Omoy was told by his sister that a storm's coming…because the caves aren't a real option at the moment, they're trying to weatherproof the huts…hunker down for the wind and rain. He wanted you to come by and help out later today; preferably, after lunch."

Marlin's face brightened up. "Well, all right! That's some good news right there!"

"Eh?" Mike asked, puzzled. "How's that?"

"Well, after yesterday…" Marlin began, stopping as Ezilian turned his head about and offered a sharp glare at the other boy.

Mike folded his arms. "Let me guess." He said after a moment of examining the hostile, yet silent interchange between the two boys. "You're glad that the islanders aren't afraid of you after the fight that Ezilian and I had yesterday."

Bakusian, having recovered a bit, grunted and pulled himself up to a sitting position. "Yaro. You've found the shadow's edge."

Marlin chuckled as Mike scratched at his head. "What Bakusian means is that you got it right. Apparently, we have a few sayings of our own, eh?"

"It happens." Mike exhaled after a moment. "So, can I tell him to expect you all after lunch?"

"Lunch sounds great." Bakusian sighed, already looking towards the village with hopeful eyes.

Ezilian smirked a bit at that. "You go ahead and tell him that. But first…I think we should finish our training here. You know…just in case things do turn ugly and we have to defend everyone. We Argonians have a power that you humans don't have…"

"Yes, Shilivre, I know, I know." Mike interrupted wearily. "Christ, just stop bragging about it already. It's good to hone your skills, sure…but the last time I checked, your little Shockwave didn't really have enough stopping power to put down that snake yesterday."

Ezilian leaned a little closer into Mike's face, his lips tightening. "Well, at least I can use the Shockwave."

Mike edged himself right back, staring at Ezilian evenly. "And you're saying I can't?"

"The last time you tried, you failed miserably. You had your damn leg bitten into."

Mike stared unblinkingly at his rival for a few long moments. "Well, all right then."

Ezilian blinked. "What?"

Mike took a few steps back and readied himself into a stance. "You tried teaching me yesterday. Try again."

Ezilian seemed to consider that possibility for a moment, then shook his head. "I was a fool to think that you could be capable of such a thing. Then again, I was half mad at the time out of fear and adrenaline…I did not have the clarity of thought I do now."

Mike glowered at that. "Now what's your problem?"

Ezilian put a hand to his waist, his authority, for the moment, supreme. "Shilivre is the domain of the Argonian people, you native. It's beyond your comprehension. Therefore, your involvement in any exercise would be pointless. Now run along back to the village. You can tell the Chief that we'll be back soon enough…And say hello to Mica for me." Ezilian folded his arms. "None of us saw her this morning…but I suspect that you might know more of her whereabouts than us, being her pet and all."

Mike's eyes burned as he stood up straight. Without thinking about it, he shot a dark and aggravated thought at the young adult known as Ezilian Ranuforte.

One day, you're going to get knocked down. HARD. And I just hope I'm around to see that day when it comes. If only to see that smug attitude of yours obliterated, leaving you with nothing but shards of yourself to step in.

Ezilian had heard him, Mike knew…Shortly thereafter, he realized he'd actually transmitted another thought. Ezilian's eyes darkened at the thought impulse, then promptly fired back one of his own.

You may think you have Shilivre. You might think you can understand us. But you'll never be like us, Jones. Your 'talent', if it can even be called that is untrained, undisciplined, and unreliable. So stick to throwing rocks and swinging sticks, like the primitive you are. The power of the Starseer is beyond you.

The other two boys couldn't hear the mental interchange between the rivals, but they could see how Mike's jaw clenched up, how he bristled as he glowered at Ezilian, and how Ezilian simply stared back at him, a look about him bordering on racist superiority.

"We'll see you all at lunch." Mike finally spat out, nodding curtly at Marlin. "Don't listen to this fool too much now. Despite what he says…I've saved him twice now. And that's more than what he's done for me."

The Seattle native turned about on his heels and stomped off, whatever good mood he had long since evaporated. The Argonian boys watched him depart, Bakusian with disinterest, Marlin in quiet sympathy for the boy, and Ezilian with his usual distaste.

"He can probably use Shilivre better than any of us could ever hope to." Marlin began bitterly. He looked up at Ezilian, who continued to stand there, chewing his jaw. "After all, he is the…"

Ezilian's head and right arm whipped down to Marlin, the hazy white field of his energy roaring to new life around his dangerous limb. The eldest Argonian's eyes flickered with something between hatred and outright scorn. "Don't you DARE finish that thought, Marlin Dellin, or I swear I will blast you straight into the next lunar phase."

Marlin's eyes burned back at him, his own weaker energies coming forth. "Mike's right about you, you know. The moment things don't go your way, you degrade into the biggest jerk in the galaxy. So go ahead and blast me. I'd love to see how you'll explain my unconscious body to everyone."

Ezilian growled at that, finishing with a roar as he turned his arm up into the air and fired off the Shockwave he'd been building up.

Reaching to the ground, he picked up the light overcoat he'd come with, slipping it on quickly. "We're done for today." He snapped. "So go ahead and rest, or play, or go eat. I don't care anymore."

Ezilian stomped off, but as he climbed up the beach steps, he turned east to the side of the island away from the village.

Bakusian got back up to his feet, recovered from the harrowing exercises Ezilian Ranuforte had put them through. "Shee. What's his problem?"

"A lot of things." Marlin said softly, patting his friend on the shoulder. "More than we can deal with. A lot of things. And as long as he's looking at a picture that only involved his world…he's got a lot more bitterness and disappointment to look forward to."

"It seems to me he's like a dhourlik."

"Apparently, they call that a soufflé here on Earth…but what do you mean by that?"

"He's built his world and life on a puffed up dessert." Bakusian concluded wisely, running a hand through his hair. "But when it falls apart…he's not going to have much left."

Marlin wondered just what would be serious enough to prompt such a radical shift, then shivered from his reasoning.

"Let's hope we never find out." Marlin Dellin said uneasily, leading the two of them back to the village.

---

The Ruins at Howduyadocola

On any given day, Dr. Jones would rise with a refreshed sensation, a slow opening of the eyes that seemed to trigger a cue from within that got him up and running to full steam in a matter of seconds. This particular day, though, gave him a far different courtesy call.

Rising from a dreamless sleep, a haze hung over his perception, his droopy eyelids moving apart as if fighting the planet's gravity. His body was weak, sluggish, and unresponsive. Even in his advanced middle age and growing potbelly, Dr. Jones had kept his spry and energetic nature after years of expeditions. This went against all that.

"Guh…" He mumbled, fighting off the small bit of vertigo as he forced his unsteady frame up into a sitting position. His mind was moving slower as well, as if he was recovering from a headache that despised too much blood rising to support thought. No pain. Just a haze.

Confused, he looked about. No wonder he felt so tired and worn out, he decided after a moment. He had been lying on cold and hard stone for…

He blinked. How long had he been out? For that matter, where was he?

A voice carried to him, a weak groan from behind that made him swivel his head. A boy. No…He knew this one, and his unruly ruffled dark magenta hair.

Giskard…

The haze finally began to ease off, and realization, as it normally would have seconds ago, began to come to the archaeologist. About where they were. About why he felt so strange. And why there was a now finally justified sense of dread in him.

"ZODA!!" He cried out, his body shaking off the last portions of whatever had kept him docile. His hand went up to the back of his neck, and winced as his fingers brushed over a sore spot. He'd been injected with some sort of a sedative…he'd been put under. Likely so he could be more manageable. But…

No. It's not possible. Zoda's dead. Mike…he killed him. He said he did!

Yet, it had truly been Zoda who stood there, blocking their escape route. It had been Zoda who had somehow controlled the zombies throughout the ruins.

Somehow.

Giskard recovered a little faster than the doctor, rushing over to his side and putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Tell me I dreamed all of that." He pleaded, his eyes seeking succor.

The man readjusted his glasses (Which, he noted, had somehow miraculously not been lost) and shook his head. "I'm…Sorry, Giskard. But it was real."

Giskard seemed to shrivel up on himself in a way that the Doctor had never seen before. He could understand it, of course. Steve Jones feared Zoda…it was Zoda, after all, who had kidnapped him and forced him to unlock the secrets of the Argonian magic cu…Argonian stasis cubes. But Giskard lay somewhere beyond that.

This was the entity that had annihilated his people, destroyed his planet and everything that he loved and held dear. There was, for a time, some brief joy for the Argonians in knowing that Zoda was dead.

Now, even that was gone.

"We're doomed then." Giskard mumbled. "We're all doomed. He's going to kill us all."

"But why?" Dr. Jones asked, shaking his head. "It makes no sense. To what purpose will the genocide of your people serve him?"

A figure emerged from the shadows of the cavernous room, blowing in from a just noticed entrance with his long purple cape billowing around him.

"It will make me feel better, for one thing." Zoda rumbled. The red eyes within his helmet glowed, turning to blink between them. "Oh, how quaint. Up for two minutes and already that thinking mind of yours is working, Professor?"

Dr. Jones fought the dread in him, remembering something that the alien invader had said the day before.

We have unfinished business…you, me, and the princess.

"Just what do you want with me?" Dr. Jones asked, a quiet reassuring voice within him giving him the strength to speak. "You're a bloodthirsty monster. Keeping us alive must serve some purpose."

"Perhaps I'm just a sadist, did you ever consider that?" Zoda chuckled darkly. His red eyes curled up into slits. "Maybe I'm doing this just to see you suffer."

Dr. Jones shook his head. "You can't make me fear you any longer. I'm done with that."

The horned helmet bobbed a little bit, as the alien let loose with a malevolent chuckle. "You humans…I swear. You've the spirit of the stars in your emotions, but the worst of everything else. Don't bother making such outrageous claims, Doctor Jones."

The alien seemed to stare harder at the older man, and suddenly the archaeologist felt a powerful sensation running through him, tightening up every muscle and limb in rigid immovability.

His mind recognized the wave a moment later. He was being paralyzed by fear. Unnatural, mentally channeled fear.

"You will feel whatever it is I wish you to." Zoda concluded dourly.

And just as soon as it had begun, the effect ended, allowing the doctor to collapse to the ground gasping for air. When he rose up seconds later, there was less bravado in his stare…but still the same defiance.

"So what do you want with me?" Doctor Jones asked, shaking his head. "Whatever it is, you can forget it. I am no longer your slave."

"When did I ever…Oh. Oh my yes, I suppose you were kidnapped." Zoda said after a moment of thought. "But not by me."

Giskard paled. "How can that be? You kidnapped him so he would translate the cipher on the escape ship, so you could get to me and the others!"

Zoda seemed to snort for a moment, a strange and humanlike retort. Then again, perhaps scorn was Universal. "I did not. Yet Zoda was certainly there."

"How is that possible?" Dr. Jones asked, readjusting his glasses.

Zoda raised up his gauntleted hands and arms, pointing them to the roof of the cavern. "How could I die and yet still be here? Indeed, you've yet to ask that, my murderer." He said, glaring at the archaeologist. "Still…managing to take down one of my ships as well. Suffice it to say I will not underestimate you this time, as my lesser self did."

It was Giskard's running mind who realized what the alien meant first. "No." He whispered.

The invader turned and faced him. "Have you just deduced something, my mule?"

Giskard raised a shaky arm at him. "You…you had clones…"

The red eyes in the horned helmet flashed briefly, as if in a small grin. "My, my. You've no Shilivre in you, but you have a powerful mind. And that can be just as dangerous." Zoda walked over to the archaeologist, his armored hand coming down to rest painfully upon the human's shoulder. "You and I have places to be yet today."

Dr. Jones blinked. "What?"

"You have unfinished business with that space ship the stasis cubes were taken from." Zoda growled. "The rest of the cipher… You will finish it or die."

Dr. Jones stood a little straighter despite the pain in his shoulder. "No."

The alien tilted his head to the side. "No?" He seemed to chuckle at that. "Very well then. I'll just dispose of young Giskard." To prove his point, Zoda waved a hand in the air…And three groaning zombies shuffled in from a different side of the chamber, walking towards the terrified Argonian boy with murderous intent.

"NO!" Dr. Jones screamed, jerking against the powerful alien's grip. "No, don't kill him!"

Zoda raised his hand again, and the zombies stopped walking. "There now. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Dr. Jones felt his face burning, humiliation replacing the fear.

His bluff had been called. He was beaten.

"I'll…help decode the cipher."

"Aah, splendid! I knew there was some common sense in that empty head of yours, bumbling scholar." Zoda laughed again.

Dr. Jones looked up, ice in his eyes. "But Giskard comes with. I need his expertise with the Argonian language if I'm ever to succeed."

Zoda's eyes leveled straight. "You say true?" Dr. Jones nodded. "Very well, scholar. The Argonian mule will accompany you. He is of no use to me…and perhaps his presence will keep you in line. Just do your job and you might live another night."

"So what are you, then?" Giskard asked, grunting as the zombies behind them pushed them roughly after their captor. "Another clone?"

Zoda laughed again, a hint of frustration in his usual dark tone. "You've been a good lad, so I'll tell you a story. You've little else to do until we reach our destination."

Zoda led them through the hallways of the underground ruins stretched throughout the caverns, marching with determination, and an unnatural familiarity with his environment. Dr. Jones and Giskard followed uneasily behind as a detachment of zombies followed, preventing escape. "It was one of my clones whom I dispatched here to obtain the stasis cubes from Hirocon's last grand act of heroism. The first, and in a sense, the most powerful of them. I've been elsewhere, and thought little of it at the time. It should have been just another routine mission for him."

Dr. Jones glanced around, realizing dimly that they ventured through yet unexplored, and thus unfamiliar, tunnels within the ruins. Not wanting to interrupt the crazed alien on pain of injury or even death, he made his mental notes, all the while trying to make sense of the strange events Zoda explained to them. He was humoring them, of course.

Dr. Jones doubted very much their lives would mean anything after they had accomplished what he asked of them.

"And yet…one day, I look for the status report from my subordinate drone, expecting to find a very positive piece of news indeed. Instead, I find a brief transmission of danger, of an intruder from the ruins recovering the cubes after they had been obtained…And then nothing but silence." Zoda paused at an intersection and turned around to face them, his red eyes glowing even more fiercely. "Silence has only meant one thing. Death. No, my clone should have been enough. So now, my dear friends, you are faced with the REAL Zoda." The invader marched over to Giskard, allowing his boots to click menacingly against the stone floors. "But that's what you wanted to know, isn't it? That I am the same bastard who annihilated your people and ruined your planet. Well, my mule, you finally have your answer. I watched the world burn as I ventured to Arruk-Sen. I destroyed everything you ever loved. And here, I've come to claim the rest." Zoda harrumphed. "Everything worth claiming, that is."

He turned back around and marched on, oblivious to how low Giskard's head hung, or how his face was clenched up in a vain attempt to prevent the tears from coming.

"So you came alone?"

"For such a simple trip as this?" Zoda snarled. "Be serious. I may enjoy killing, but even I recognize the principle of excessive force. My invader armada is not required for this."

"...Of course, there's also the fact that you don't need an army in such a familiar place as this." Dr. Jones ventured, his voice wavering.

Zoda marched on, saying nothing. Behind him, the archaeologist allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. Zoda's silence betrayed much.

In time, they emerged out of the unfamiliar caverns through a previously unnoticed hidden doorway in the stonework, and out into the very middle of the ruins to which the by now melted and useless escape craft used by Hirocon to save the Argonian children sat.

"I'd suggest you start immediately." Zoda growled lowly. "I've humored you quite enough for one day, and I'm not a patient man."

Dr. Jones fixed his glasses again. "We can't rightly work without our notebooks and supplies."

Zoda rasped at that, a laugh that seemed to wheeze. "Another human quality…you are never satisfied. Still, I thought of that problem." He snapped his fingers, and from behind the melted asteroid ship, another shambling zombie came with a familiar bag. It dropped the bag at the feet of Zoda, then jerkily moved to join the others. "I believe that should have all of your notes there. As for food…Well, you can rough it until I return."

"And when will you be back?" Giskard asked bravely.

Zoda's left hand seemed to clench up into a fist for a moment, as if he was pondering striking the boy down again. The moment thankfully passed, and he turned about, walking off again.

"Translate the damnable cipher, or forfeit your life here and now." Zoda said darkly. "As for when I'll be back…later today. There had better be some progress when I get back, or we'll start making…modifications to your situation. You don't need all your fingers for this sort of work, after all."

As soon as he had appeared in front of them, he disappeared. The zombies all seemed to stand for a moment, then shuffled off in all directions.

Giskard fell to his knees beside the asteroid, one hand braced against it. "I'm going to be sick."

"I wouldn't blame you…but you've got to be strong."

"He's going after the others. You had to realize that's what he meant."

"Yes. I know he is." Dr. Jones commented.

The Argonian boy looked at him incredulously. "Then how can you be so calm about it?!"

"Because, we've an ace up our sleeve." Dr. Jones replied, his face taut. "You heard him. He thinks that I am the person responsible for destroying his last clone, destroying his ship and ruining the mission weeks ago. He does not know the truth of it."

The boy blinked at him. "…Mike."

The archaeologist sighed. "Maybe Mike stands a chance against him. He'd do better than we could…especially if he uses that Super Nova of his. That's our one chance, Giskard. It all rests…on Mike."

Giskard looked about. "Even now…we're still prisoners. We can't fight our way out of here." Dr. Jones remembered the yo-yo in his pocket, but didn't pull it out. Despite Mike's best intentions, it just hadn't been strong enough to do anything useful.

"Sitting around here all day won't solve our problems. Or our questions."

"You're really going to translate the cipher?" Giskard posed, as if the doctor was somehow insane.

Steve Jones glanced at him through his glasses. "We don't have much of a choice. But…yes. I'll translate the cipher, or try to. I didn't get very far last time. As for you, Giskard, you have another mission."

"What?"

"You must try and uncover the secret of these ruins as a whole." Dr. Jones replied easily. "Whatever is in the rest of this cipher must be of incredible value to the Argonians…whatever is in these caverns is of value to us, because it may hold the key to his downfall."

Giskard blinked. "What makes you say that?"

Dr. Jones exhaled. "You were unconscious when he talked to me…I can't grudge you for that. All the same, you saw how tense he grew when I mentioned that he seemed familiar with these caverns. He knows these caverns, Giskard. In some way…it's almost as if this was his home."

The archaeologist leveled a finger at the boy. "I'm entrusting you with discovering just how that's possible."

Possibilities and ideas began to flash about in Giskard's mind…but he quieted them long enough to recognize one simple fact.

They had to act fast.

"May the stars keep watch over us, then." Giskard said shortly, nodding at the professor as he stood up to examine the room they were in.

The archaeologist turned back to the rock, and the strange, cryptic markings that adorned them.

Well, we've been here once before, haven't we, my dear?

"Tell me just enough to satisfy him…and not enough to doom the Argonians." Dr. Jones prayed briefly, pleading for some helping hand.

As it was…it was likely too late for miracles.

---

Coralcola Island

12:45 P.M.

Mica, fresh from lunch, strolled back along the island's northern trail with Marlin at her side. Already they had cleared the forest, and could see the island's central peninsula with Dr. Jones' laboratory fast approaching.

"It's not like Mike to miss a meal." Princess Mica mused, her arms at her sides as Marlin trailed alongside her.

"Well, he had his reasons today." Marlin replied mutedly. "Ezilian came down on him pretty hard. They won't be breaking out into any open fights for a while, but there's still tension. Mike came by to tell us that the Chief needed some help, and me and Bakusian were being trained by Ezilian in the use of the Shockwave."

"Yes, but the Shockwave's a basic ability, isn't it?"

"Heh." Marlin chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Not everyone practices for battle. Ezilian always did think he was tops. Suffice it to say, Mike asked Ezilian to teach him how to use it, Ezilian refused, and I…Well, I think that the two were telepathically speaking to one another." Marlin glanced at the Princess, conscious of her curious stare. "I can't be sure, of course, but it sure looked like it. And if they were, their conversation was not a happy one."

Mica let out a sigh of exasperation. "That would be just like Ezilian, wouldn't it?"

"He needs his edge." Marlin commented. "Me and Bakusian talked a little about this earlier…he needs to feel superior to everyone around him. When something threatens that, or his vision of how things should be, he tends to flip out."

Mica recalled the fight he and Mike had had yesterday. "You like to underemphasize things. I think he does more than flip out."

"So what makes you think Mike would be up at his Uncle's place?" Marlin asked, changing the topic with a nervous chuckle.

The Princess shrugged, her eyes inscrutable. "A feeling…a hunch, I think they'd call it. It's his home. It's where he feels safe. And seeing as the caves are no longer an option…It's about the only place he can go to relax after getting severely ticked off."

"Well, Ezilian would do that to him." Marlin joked. "All right, then. We'll check the laboratory. I don't know much about the place myself…this is as good a time as any to ransack the pantry, eh?"

Mica grinned at her counterpart, punching him lightly in the arm. "I'm thinking you picked up a little too much of Bakusian's personality when you were in that cube with him."

"As opposed to Ezilian's ego or Giskard's strange outlook?" Marlin retorted. "Bakusian's hardly the worst."

"…Marlin, I have to ask you something."

"Hmm?"

"Me…and Michael."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Does it bother you?"

"I'll be honest, Princess. It doesn't bother me HALF as much as your arranged marriage to Ezilian." Marlin said, shuddering for emphasis. "It surprised us all a little…but don't worry. We like Mike, he's a good guy. And it's your life to live."

Princess Mica lowered her head a little, smiling at the response. "…Thank you, Marlin."

"It's no problem, your highness." Marlin replied easily. They ended the conversation, for they found themselves at the beginning of the trail leading along to Dr. Jones' laboratory.

He had holed himself in the underwater docking bay of the peninsula; the natural cove discovered by Dr. Jones. There was a still and tranquil beauty in the pool of water that connected to the short tunnel leading to the harbor beyond, highlighted by the bright fluorescent glow of the lights that ringed it.

In direct contrast to the natural beauty of the blue and gray stones of the cavern, a bank of computers with power cords and communication wires all running up and out of the cove to the rest of the laboratory served as a reminder of man's intrusion into earth's wondrous spectacle.

Worried as he was, Mike Jones paid little attention to the beauty of the sights around him, his eyes instead fixated on the screen which marked the position of the cove's singular inhabitant on a projected image of the islands of the Southern Cross. Tense, his hand went down to the button of the connected intercom and depressed the talk button again, belching out a brief squelch.

"This is Mike, at Coralcola Cove. Come in, Sub-C. This is Mike at home port, do you copy?" He said it for what had to be somewhere between the tenth and thirtieth time…he'd lost count. And just like all the other times, all he heard was empty void, and the occasional crease of static from electromagnetic flux in the air. The antennae for Sub-C's port to sub communications stood on top of the laboratory, and could pick up signals for a 600 nautical mile radius as clear as a bell, thanks to its height and composition.

If there was anyone aboard Sub-C capable of responding, they would have long since done so. Biting his lip, Mike looked at the display of Sub-C's position on the map again, the monochrome outlines of the sub and the islands of the Southern Cross all too unsettling in the quiet.

Sub-C should have been smack in the middle of the scattered islands surrounding Howduyadocola…yet the homing transponder, and its relevant signal put it between Miracola and Coralcola. The only way it could be there, Mike figured after running a quick set of numbers, was if it had run all night…But that didn't make any sense.

"That would mean they got there…and spent maybe all of one to four hours." Mike mumbled. "And then, to just turn around and come back…"

The worried feeling in the pit of his stomach grew back, as he recalled the previous day's troublesome rediscoveries.

Monsters had come back to the Coralcola Caverns, threatening Ezilian's life, and in time, Mike's own as he set out to recover the boy. They had only narrowly escaped certain death at the hands of the C-Serpent's wayward mate, by what Mike could only attribute to a power he did not understand, and he reminded himself, never asked for.

I'm not the Starseer. I'm NOT.

After emerging, and a night's rest, he'd talked to Mica, and been given a disturbing piece of fat to chew on. That perhaps, just perhaps, the monsters had somehow returned to the ruins, just as they had at Coralcola…and if that was the case, then presumably everywhere else he had once fought through.

It was a very real explanation for Sub-C's abrupt change of course. The destination coordinates of Sub-C, transmitted to the cove's navigational computer log, clearly showed it was headed for Coralcola. So the monsters had likely returned to those ruins, Mike decided with more than a little dread. The monsters in those ruins had been the strongest he'd fought his entire trip, save for the spaceship…but those had hardly been 'monsters' in the usual sense. And Giskard and Dr. Jones had only had the yo-yo to fight with for their trip. Mike had at least had the "Shooting Star" Morningstar mace from Shecola to battle with in his own jog through the maze. That meant they wouldn't have been able to do as well, if things had gotten as ugly as his fears allowed him to believe…

And nobody on the Sub was answering.

A sudden noise from the corner of the cavern brought his attention about, and he recognized it as the door connected to the metal stairs that led down to the room. With an easygoing gait, a figure that Mike recognized as Marlin Dellin skipped down the stairs, staring about. He locked eyes with Mike and grinned, waving at his friend for a moment before tilting his head back up the stairs. "Hey, Mica, I found him! He's down here!"

Mike Jones frowned. "Marlin? What are you and Mica doing here?"

The Princess walked calmly down the steps, arms crossed over her chest as she looked to him. "We were worried about you."

Mike stood up from the banks of computers, shaking his head for a moment. "I'm not who you should be worried about."

Marlin looked about the cavern, his curiosity activating. "Just what is this place?"

"You remember Sub-C?" Mike asked the boy. Mica nodded, and though it took him a few seconds, Marlin did also in time. "Well, this is Sub-C's main dock…My Uncle put it here to keep Sub-C away from bad weather, so he could launch it no matter what. It also helps, because it keeps the vital communications and data processing equipment in a safe environment." Mike exhaled. "But you didn't come here to get a lecture on all the fun places in my Uncle's laboratory. So what's wrong?"

"I heard from Marlin you and Ezilian had a bit of a tussle earlier today." Mica explained, tilting her head to the side. "Is everything all right?"

Mike's face darkened. "Ezilian's not a big concern of mine at the moment. I can't reach Dr. Jones or Giskard…nobody on Sub-C is answering the radio."

Marlin frowned. "What do you mean they're not answering? Well, hold on. They'd be in the ruins, not on the submarine."

"But they ARE on the submarine!" Mike retorted angrily. "At least, I hope so…" He turned about and pointed to the tracking monitor. "See? Sub-C isn't at the ancient ruins! It's coming back home!" He quieted himself down, shaking his head. "Yesterday…The monsters had come back to Coralcola. And what if they returned to Howduyadocola?"

Mike closed his eyes. "It's the only answer that makes any sense. They wouldn't come back otherwise."

The boy exhaled as Marlin set a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. So why won't they answer?

Marlin drew in a sharp breath, blinking in surprise. "Mike…You…you just…"

"He spoke with his mind." Mica interrupted, folding her arms. She looked at the Seattle native. "So…you've gained more control over it?"

The young Jones shook his head, as grave as ever. "No…No, it comes and goes. That time, I didn't even mean to." He stood up, perturbed as ever. "I'm sorry…I must not be much for conversation right now."

"You're worried." Mica consoled him. "It's only natural…but I have faith in your Uncle, and in Giskard. You'll be able to ask them soon enough when they get back just what happened."

"In the meantime, we need to get you out of this place." Marlin chastised his friend. "Being cooped up in this cavern isn't going to do anything for you."

"It keeps me away from Ezilian."

"Heh…I suppose it would do that." Marlin admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Though, he isn't going anywhere, and neither are you. And you tried tearing each other apart, that didn't work."

"Not really, no." Mike sighed. "All right, I'll come with you."

"Good." Marlin smiled, brushing his hands together. "Now, what can we do?"

Mica moved back up the stairs and out of the cavern, and Marlin went up next with Mike following behind him. The Seattle native chuckled for a moment as an idea came to him. "Well, Marlin, I think it's time I introduced you to the world of video games…"

A sudden thundering rumble shook through the cavern, as if the island was trying to tear itself apart. Mica, safe and in the house structure above, let out a panicked cry. Marlin, caught on the stairs, started to stumble backwards, too stunned to even make a noise.

Mike, still in the cave proper, looked about, shocked as loose shards of rock broke free from the ceiling of the natural underground harbor and smashed down and into his Uncle's precious computer equipment. The machine responsible for the commlink to Sub-C shorted out in an explosion of plastic, microchips, and sparks. "This place is falling apart!" He cried out, realizing as another stone smashed to the ground inches away from his feet how dangerous it was. "Get out of here!" All other thoughts of the day, of Ezilian, and his own confusing role were shunted aside for the primal sensations of fear and protectiveness that the sudden earthquake evoked.

Marlin fell backwards a bit, barely catching himself on the railing to the stairs. Mike came up behind him, his adrenaline fueled senses rushing up into him.

A rickety grinding noise from above caught the younger Jones' attention, and his eyes flew up to see a thick, basketball sized chunk of rock dislodging itself from the tunnel ceiling above the stairs…and above Marlin.

"Marlin, look out!" Mike cried, shoving himself into the Argonian and slamming Marlin's body up the stairs, falling against them.

For Mike, the action came at a price; The rock meant for Marlin finally broke free and fell groundwards, impacting thickly against his skull with a tiny crack and a burst of stars.

Mike didn't feel the terrible pain that the blow should have caused. As the stars and the inky black nightshade sky filled his vision before his eyes fluttered shut, he felt almost nothing at all...

Save the sensation of falling.

---

The Ruins at Howduyadocola

"Juh-Halla Nek martula nor, endama kighra portus kor…"

The final place the Starseekers reached, an unlikely son the King beseeched…

In the dim light of the cavern, brightened only by an ancient lantern one of the zombies under Zoda's control had groaningly provided, Giskard rubbed at his aching eyes with his free hand for the thirteenth time. The walls of the old Starseeker 'base', for lack of a better word, were covered in ancient script, only some of which Giskard could make out. Like the line he had repeated inside his head for the fourth time in a row just now.

"Unlikely son." The boy exhaled, wishing that somehow when he opened his eyes, the script would shift and give him a straight answer.

When he pulled his hand away and looked again, it remained as cryptic as ever. "Inchab!!" He finally screamed, stomping a foot to the ground.

Dr. Jones, with his own lantern and notebooks unfolded all around him as he sat looking at the cipher on the side of the Argonian escape ship, tilted his head back to look questioningly at his assistant. "Why the sudden desire to procreate, Giskard?" He asked, a tiny bit of good humor. "Or did you mean that in the cursing sense?"

"If you can understand Argonian maledictions, then you're learning." Giskard muttered in reply. "I'm sorry, Doc. I…I'm just struggling with this, is all."

"Well, it can't be any worse than my own challenge." Dr. Jones answered. "You said it yourself; this cipher is a jumble of ancient and modern Argonian…reversed and so on. At least yours wasn't written to have its meaning hidden."

"Was it now." Giskard grumbled. "There's some things on these walls I can't make out. Sure, parts of this are ancient Argonian, that I know…but there's other things up here, markings, script that I can't make out."

Dr. Jones picked himself up off of the ground with a sigh and strolled over, jamming a hand into his pocket. "Well, maybe I can help. I need a break from my own bit anyhow."

As Dr. Jones got next to him, the Argonian lifted up the lantern and his free hand, pointing to the line. "This is the line we discovered yesterday…the part about the unlikely son, if you'll recall."

"Mmhm." Dr. Jones grunting, the ancient Argonian still much of a mystery to him.

"But we go a few steps to the right…" Giskard began, venturing across the surface of the wall, "And here we have a line of markings I can't make out."

Dr. Jones stared at the wall, frowning. "Well, this is interesting…it would have to be new."

"Eh?"

"Well, moderately new. We're not talking four thousand years old. This is more of an Arabic script, but why would it…AH!" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his eyes going wide. "No wonder, that makes perfect sense now…"

"Well, I'm glad it does to you." Giskard groused. "So what is it?"

"It's a particular dialect of the Malay-Pacific ethnic cluster." Dr. Jones explained. "A particular variant in a family of over 1000 different languages. Still, it's written in Arabic, which explains why you couldn't make it out. Ancient Arabic script and Argonian are two very different things…"

"So were these writings original to the cavern?"

"Oh, not hardly." Dr. Jones shook his head. "By the condition of the cave, you couldn't tell from a simple geologic glance, but…Arabic Script didn't transfuse out into the Southeastern Asian regions and the Pacific provinces until well into the growth of the Islamic Religion about 1000 years ago. So either the Argonian "Starseekers" as you call them, arrived during that period…or this line was added much later."

Giskard absorbed the information, then shrugged his shoulders. "All right. So do you know what it says?"

"Aah, you're in luck." Dr. Jones smiled. "All my time in the islands of the Southern Cross has given me plenty of time to refresh my regional dialects, soo…"

Giskard held the lantern closer, and Dr. Jones peered in a little closer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. His mouth opened and closed as he silently made his way through the syllables and their meanings, then stopped suddenly, blinking in surprise.

"What…?" He whispered, incredulously. Giskard frowned at him, but the archaeologist made no motion to indicate he'd sensed the facial expression, leaning back in, his fingers tapping curiously against the rock wall of the cavern.

"What?" Giskard asked testily. "Damnitall, say something, Doc!"

"I…I'm sorry, I was just caught off guard a bit." Dr. Jones apologized. He pushed his hand back to the beginning of the line, tapping it. "What it says…loosely translated of course…"

"Into exile the unlikely son of these ruins was thrown…His past, and these ruins are forever condemned to nonexistence."

Giskard's eyes flared open. "Nonexistence?"

"Well, it could also mean silence, death, or sleep…But nonexistence seems the most likely option." Dr. Jones answered.

"Starseekers…" Giskard rumbled, glancing about. "This place was an ancient base of operations for the Starseekers…The unlikely son? If that's the case, then this would have to be the last place the Starseekers traveled to. Unlikely son…By the STARS, Doc, it's the same person!"

Dr. Jones paused at that, then turned about with a grave expression. "It's Zoda, Giskard."

The boy blinked. "…Huh?"

"The unlikely son…I'm thinking it's Zoda." Dr. Jones explained.

Giskard snorted. "Be real, doc. The Starseekers were Argonian. Zoda's an alien invader. He tried to KILL US. Argonians don't do that to each other."

Dr. Jones shook his head. "…Maybe…maybe you're right. It was just a crazy hunch to begin with. But all the same, keep looking. Scan for any more ancient Argonian, and if you stumble across anything more in a script like this, you let me know, and I'll take a crack at it."

"What, you're leaving me?"

"I have my own project to do." Dr. Jones confirmed. "And mine is what will keep Zoda from annihilating us when he returns."

"Any progress?"

"…Only with the parts that are common Argonian." Dr. Jones exhaled. "That was how the first half of the cipher was written in; common Argonian put backwards."

"The part that told you how to free us, about Zoda, and our dying planet."

"Yes."

"So what do you know of the second half?" The Argonian boy posed.

"Just a few words." Dr. Jones remarked gravely. "It took me a while to make out if they were reversed or not; some were, some weren't. Most likely meanings versus gibberish. But those words…Hirocon…Essence…Puzzle."

Giskard blinked. "You…Are you serious?"

"I always am, my boy." Dr. Jones explained. "Why is that surprising?"

"…King Hirocon didn't escape the planet Argonia with us." Giskard explained, shaking his head. "He couldn't have. He had to stay behind, launch our escape ship…get us to safety. He died. So why would the cipher talk about Hirocon?"

Dr. Jones blinked at the boy, then slowly tilted his head back at the melted Argonian ship. He shrugged his shoulders.

"In a certain respect…all of you died as well, when you became suspended in those stasis cubes. If the second part of the cipher talks about Hirocon…It would make sense why Zoda would be so insistent that I translate it."

Giskard blinked at the archaeologist, clueless.

Wise and astute, but utterly useless for anything beyond academic tasks, Dr. Jones sighed. "I think…Hirocon is somehow still alive. Somewhere. Zoda wants the cipher, because he wants him as much as he wanted all of you."

"…You're kidding."

"I wish I was, my boy." Dr. Jones smiled sadly. "I once held your fate in my hands…it seems I now have the same power to save or destroy Princess Mica's father."

---

There was no other way now. Nothing he could say would ease the pain in her heart, give explanation, substance to his claims. The Starseer felt the cosmos push against his thoughts, guiding him towards one simple overriding thought.

She had to know.

Gently, his hands moved down and traced the line of her jaw, her shoulders, fingers running down her sides in a quiet motion that made her melt into him with another fiery kiss. And he triggered it...In one penultimate burst of his gift, he focused his Shilivre through his thoughts... And showed her.

A world. Their world. Once somber and mired in the darkness, it rose again and flourished. Their people...Ruled by QUEEN Sellarus Argos...ruled with love and compassion, and a wisdom that went from generation to generation and was never lost...The Argonians...Planet...Argonia...
She would find love again...a lesser love. To Sellarus, only the Starseer could ever lay claim to her heart, soul, and body all in one. But she would gain a king, and they would have a child. And their child...would have a child. So it would go on; the Argonians would prosper. The memory of the Star Devils, once so vivid, would pass on into old story, passed down by word of mouth and always remembered. The Starseer would be remembered, as well as his glimmering weapon Ellini. But Shilivre...his TRUE power and gift, the power she now shared...

It would be passed down through Sellarus' line, the bulk of its strength remaining in the royal family.

But…

I will return.
Years. Centuries. Millennia. Almost an epoch would come and go, until the Starseer and the Star Devils truly had become ancient mythology. And trouble would come again. But he would come again. As he must...the Starseer, the savior of the Argonian race, would return. This he had seen, and now this she saw.
And there was more, but it was so intense, so overwhelming that as the last portion of it was transferred, she broke away shaking her head, sobbing again.
Crestfallen, he looked down.

"I love you, Sellarus...More than anything in this world, more than anything before. But..."

"I know." She whispered, still crying.
A gaping chasm now stood between them, and he felt as though they were shouting across it. "You must be strong, my love." He said. "For them...for me."

She nodded.
"Your children...my power will reside in them fully, my strength will always be yours and theirs."

She nodded.

"And you must remember all that I have shown you...and to every generation that follows...to every daughter of your line...you must tell them this. Tell them what I could only show you."

She nodded.

"You and your people will live."

She sniffled a bit, looking up and clearing the tears away. "I live only for you, even now."

His blue eyes dimmed out. "You make this hard for me."
"It should be hard to leave love."
Gently, he leaned his forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of their compassion run between them. "Remember."

With the speed of a tired and aged warrior, he removed Ellini from his waist and placed it down in front of her. "Remember."
She did not look up as he stood up, turned around, and began to walk towards the mountains. He in turn, did not look back. Collapsed on the ground, looking down at the shining weapon that her love had used to save her people, Sellarus Argos cried, his final thoughts echoing through her.

Remember…

---

Coralcola Island

Two distorted voices greeted his groggy head, accompanied shortly thereafter by a twinge of pain and a suffusing warmth that shortly removed what little of a headache he had left.

"…You just love to get yourself into these situations." The boy's voice echoed, incredulous but thankful.

"Huh?"

He's…That's Marlin.

Steadily, Mike's consciousness snapped back into focus. The face of a young girl, beautiful and concerned with piercing eyes and radiant dark red tresses curling about her pointed ears, appeared in his vision. "You took quite a lump there, saving Marlin from that falling rubble."

Mike blinked, raising a hand to brush the side of her face. "…Sellarus?"

Princess Mica's eyes went wide, and she stood up, backing away from him with a look of horror.

"Heh! Quite a lump, indeed." Marlin snorted with a grin. "Still, I thank you, Mike. You saved my bacon back there."

Mike opened his voice to speak, freezing as he took stock of where he was.

I'm not…I'm not the Starseer.

I'm Mike.

And that's not Sellarus. It's Princess Mica.

…God, my head hurts.

"The…ceiling of the cavern started shaking loose." Mike remembered, putting a hand to his head and feeling the lump there.

"…Are you sure you're all right?" Mica asked him, recovering from her former panic, trying desperately to restore her former tone.

"I'll live, Mica." Mike answered after a pause, slowly easing himself off of the couch.

They'd taken him to the laboratory's living room, and let him lie on the couch.

"How long was I out?"

"A couple of minutes." Princess Mica replied, folding her arms. "A simple concussion's an easy fix. The gash on your head patched up nicely too."

"You know, you could put Hawkeye and B.J. to shame."

"…Who?"

"It's from a TV show." Mike explained. "Never mind."

"Still, that equipment down there…some of it got bashed up in that quake." Marlin said woefully.

"Parts, my Uncle can replace." Mike explained. "People he can't. Don't worry about it. Besides, it's not like he was talking to me much anyhow. I don't think I'll miss the comm system for the moment." Mike stood up, glancing about. "So what were we doing before we fled for our lives?"

"Well…at the moment, Marlin and I were trying to figure out just what could have caused that quake in the cave…"

"It…might have something to do with that storm Bana's been warning everyone about." Mike said warily, looking about. He walked over to the window and looked up at the sky. "Strange, though. The weather's still perfect outside."

Marlin and Mica wandered over to the expansive western facing window, staring towards the oncoming horizon next to Mike. By chance, Marlin's eyes glanced downward to the village…

It was then he noticed the flurry of bright and very visible energy bolts being thrown out in all directions…and a slowly growing fire.

"Oh, INCHABIK!"

"Marlin!" Mica chastised her fellow Argonian. The boy, eyes wide, pointed towards the village. Mica and Mike looked as well, becoming just as stunned and confused.

"What the…" Mica began, suddenly afraid.

Mike's eyes hardened, and he shook his head, turning about for the laboratory's door. "Oh, no…I hope you're all good at running. Whatever's happening down there, we need to move…NOW!"

Too stunned to argue, Princess Mica Argos and Marlin Dellin turned about and dashed after Mike as the boy flung the front door open and took off running.

Mike gritted his teeth, trying his best to ignore the minor pulsing of his headache left after Mica's treatment. His legs began to burn from the exertion as he dashed along the path leading up to Coralcola's northern side, and the path that would take him to the village.

A part of him still naggingly refused to give up wondering what that strange hallucination about the Starseer and Sellarus meant. Most of him was focused on only one thing. The fire, "Shockwave" bolts, and smoke curling up from the village in the distance. Dread overtook him, and a myriad of possibilities began to run through his mind.

The caverns…The monsters must have started to come out of the caverns. Ezilian must be trying to fight them off, that explains the Shilivre "Shockwave" blasts…but it's a battle they're losing.

Bana…is this the storm you meant?

Angrily, he roared and ran faster, leaving the Princess and Marlin in his dust as he rounded the corner with more speed than he'd ever used to steal a base.

Please, don't let me be too late!

---

Coralcola Village

If it had only been the monsters emerging from the caverns, Ezilian and Bakusian would have proven strong enough to beat them back with their focused Shockwave blasts. But the rumbling that had shaken the caverns of Coralcola, and dropped a chunk of ceiling from Sub-C's underground harbor on Mike's head had been no earthquake, nor a typhoon or any such other natural phenomenon. It had been caused by the powerful and roaring thrusters of a gleaming and dangerous metallic purple painted ship that soared through the air with a scream like a psychotic eagle.

The villagers had scattered, of course; cried out in fear and terror and dove into their huts, huddling together for support. For Ezilian, Bakusian, Amethyst and Rozlyn, the sudden appearance of a small, yet threatening spacecraft chilled them more than 20 years in the Argonian cubes had. They didn't scatter into the huts of Coralcola Village like the natives did; their feet remained frozen to the ground, stubbornly ignoring all screaming advice to the contrary.

In a sense, rationality and instinct were in agreement. They both realized the degree of futility in running.

They had been exiled to the opposite side of the galaxy, to a far and distant point of one sweeping arm of milky stars. Still, he had found them. There was no use in hiding.

Rozlyn began whimpering, burying herself in the hem of Amethyst's dress, trying somehow to disappear in spite of that logic. The older girl reached a hand over to Ezilian's shoulder, trembling as she squeezed it. Ezilian Ranuforte turned his head to her, his eyes alight with reawakened and troubled fire, but his jaw set. "It'll be all right." He whispered to her. "It'll be all right."

Tears flowed in her eyes. "How can you say that?" She trembled, shaking her head. "We're dead! He found us!"

"But he hasn't beaten us!" Ezilian barked angrily. "Apparently, Mike can't kill off the destroyer of Argonia. But me; I've got a couple of decades of swallowed rage and anger to take out on his carcass, and I'll be damned if he takes away anything else I care about!!" He lifted his fist up to the ship as it touched down in the large open meeting ground at the center of the village, screaming at it. "YOU HEAR ME?! YOU'RE NOT TAKING AMETHYST AWAY FROM ME!"

Despite the tense air of the moment, Amethyst's tears shone for a moment, in a different light. Ezilian had never admitted so publicly his feelings. Maybe it was just the approach of their destroyer that brought it about, but all the same…As she backed away from the terrified, but raging youth and held her sister close…

That single screamed admittance meant more to her than all those quiet, sweet nothings he'd wooed her with from all the nights before.

Bakusian stepped beside Ezilian, shaking his head. "This is crazy."

"Always has been." The elder Argonian retorted. "So are you going to curl up and die, or are you going to fight?"

The normally placid Bakusian gained a hard edge to his chubby cheeks, hands clenching into fists as a white field of light began to glow around him. "You didn't waste your time with me for nothing."

"Now you're speaking like a true Noble." Ezilian finished, his own white field of energy springing to life.

The ship settled down, its landing legs making deep impressions into the soil of the Coralcola terrain. Engines whined down, and a doorway on the side of the ship opened up, wisps of white vapor belching out from inside.

Ezilian's eyes went into slits, his palm lifting up to the open hatch. "This is for Arruk-Sen…" He whispered bitterly, firing a bolt.

The powerful shot flew towards the hatch, reached the edge, and began to go in…

Until a gauntleted, clawed hand rose up like lightning from inside, striking against it and sending it up into the sky, harmlessly deflected.

Stunned, Ezilian stopped himself from firing again. The hand retracted, replaced with a thick metallic boot. Then a leg. Then an arm, another leg…

And the monster in his entireity. Zoda. The Prime Alien Invader, the destroyer of Argonia. Red eyes glowed from the depths of his horned helmet, a deep purple cape billowing out behind him.

"More courageous fools." Zoda's voice boomed deeply. "I did not know Argonians still had such bravado in them."

"Die, you monster!!" Bakusian cried out, swinging his right arm in a wild throw to focus the aim of his own blasts. Shot after shot he fired, but Zoda seemed nonplussed, deflecting them with flicks of his powerful hands.

Behind, Amethyst and Rozlyn huddled, more terrified than ever as Bakusian's attempts to fight back met with failure. Ezilian's blood boiled from the failure of his strategy, and he dashed in towards Zoda with a feral scream blasting from his lungs.

"NEVER AGAIN!" Ezilian screamed, his Shilivre collecting about his hand in a long coil, a whip of energy ready to strike. He swung his fist about, and the energy whip swung about, intent on gashing a path through Zoda's thick armor.

The red eyes in Zoda's helmet glowed brighter for a brief moment, and then in a blur of movement that defied explanation, he vanished from where he stood, the energy whip slashing through empty air.

"Ezilian!!" Bakusian cried out, hurling a tremendous Shockwave bolt towards the boy. Ezilian whipped out, realizing with stunned surprise the shot was not meant for him, but still for Zoda, who had reappeared behind him.

With one hand, Zoda gripped Ezilian firmly by the neck, dangling him aloft and choking the air out of him. His other hand extended out towards the approaching blast, sending it skyward for a long moment. But it did not continue on as the others had; instead, it shattered apart into a storm of smaller bolts, each which streaked down in jagged lines towards a surprised Bakusian, who could do little but cry out in pain and agony as his own attack was reverted on him. Twitching in pain, he collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolling back up into his head, overwhelmed from his blast's ferocity.

Ezilian gasped for air, his eyes bulging out. His feet swung out underneath him, kicking into empty air as his hands clawed uselessly at Zoda's monstrous grip.

"Ezilian…Ezilian Ranuforte, wasn't it? Aah, yes. Princess Mica's betrothed. No wonder you could put up more of a fight than your overweight friend over there."

Had he not been fighting for air and consciousness, Ezilian would have had the time to consider just how Zoda could be so knowledgeable about him, and about events on Argonia before his invasion. Instead, he continued to fight, gradually weakening.

"I could yet have use for you, just as I could for the other noble children…But for now, do me a favor, Ezilian. You know what I'm looking for."

"You…Will never…Get the Princess…" Ezilian rasped, wheezing through the squeeze on his larynx.

Zoda seemed to shake lightly as his chuckle echoed through the air. "Aah, youth." Without another thought, he tossed Ezilian into the air, spinning about and catching him square in the chest with a powerful roundhouse kick.

Ezilian's eyes went wider than they'd ever been, his mouth opened in a silent and painful scream as the kick produced a sickening kerrrraaack. The now immobilized body of Ezilian fell to the ground several feet distant, the boy writhing in shock and agony as he fought to breathe with countless broken ribs.

Amethyst and Rozlyn cowered against each other, terrified at the power Zoda was able to wield against the far more capable boys. The warrior's uses of Shilivre had typically been a boy's training; for the two sisters, they had focused more on communication, speaking through feelings, as was tradition.

That was a skill utterly useless here.

Zoda stared at Ezilian's ruined form for a moment longer, then slowly turned about to stare at the girls. "Resistance brings only pain." He growled menacingly, stepping towards them. "Now, then. Be smarter than your friend over there with the visions of grandeur, little Argonians. Tell me where the Princess is."

"They'll be telling you nothing." Came a wizened, but stern voice from Zoda's right. The alien turned about, focusing on an old human woman in dark red robes, leaning on a ceremonial stick for support as she moved towards them, determination in her eyes. "Their home is Coralcola now, and we will fight to protect them."

Zoda laughed at that, deep and malevolent. "Come now, old woman. Be reasonable. You're no match for me."

Bana Omoy, the Shaman of Coralcola, paused at a distance of twenty feet from him, looking straight into the red squints of his eyes as she began to utter a short incantation. It grew into a verse, then a dull drone…But to Zoda, it was a roar, blocking everything out, ringing about in his head with painful intensity. Crying out in pain, he stumbled away from her, his clawed hands scraping at his helmet.

Just as quickly as she had begun, Bana stopped the chanting, leaning on her staff as if the exertion had drained her own vitality. "Leave this place." She said again, panting for a long moment.

Zoda took a few moments to recover, breathing heavily before turning to look at Bana with a new and curious, if not also dark, expression. "Who are you?"

"The protector of these islands, mystic to the stars…And a descendant of Rellini-Uros." Bana said tersely. "And you, my greatest great Uncle…have no place here."

Zoda blinked a few times, then roared in bellowing laughter. "You're serious!!" He guffawed. "Although I suppose…that does tend to explain your gift." He shook his head. "Stand aside, woman. I would hate to destroy family."

Bana took a few steps closer, motioning to the huddling girls. "They are my family."

A glowing field of dark black energy sparkled around Zoda, his clawed gauntlets curling inwards. "They are not mine."

Bana brought her staff up, wielding it as a weapon at long last. "If you want them, you will have to go through me."

"If you're that anxious to join the void then…" Zoda growled, drawing the dark power into his fists.

Bana only smiled back at him, shaking his head. "I fight with the stars as my ally, Uncle…A force you forsook long ago."

Zoda roared and flung herself against the old woman, who somehow withstood the fierce bull rush, a brilliant white field of energy dancing around her now as well, focusing in her staff as she slammed it across the side of his helmet. It impacted with more force than the alien could have predicted, sending him stumbling a distance away, shaking his head to recover.

"You forsook this planet as well." Bana growled. "So return to the void from which you came…it is the only place left for you."

"DRALAKHMAR!" Zoda bellowed, dashing towards Bana with a powerful gash of his clawed hand. She backed away, shielding herself from the blow with her staff. Despite the resilience of her energy, the sheer strength Zoda exuded snapped the wood of her medicine stick into two splintered halves. Stunned, Bana was unable to react as he finished the charge, his other hand coming up and slamming deep into her midsection.

The old woman let out a choking gasp of pain, feeling the tips of his clawed gauntlet tear through fabric and dig deep into her weary flesh. Zoda brought her up to his eye level, the red orbs in his helmet flickering irrationally.

"...If the stars give you so much strength, then why are you so weak?" Zoda growled to her.

Blood bubbling up from her lips, Bana found the strength to grin into the face of her assassin. "…Strength…comes in many forms."

The alien invader snorted, flinging her to the ground without a second thought. Exhausted and already fading from her injuries, Bana's eyes flickered shut, accepting her failure.

She could sense them coming.

She had done what the stars had asked her to.

---

Mike was prepared for anything as he bounded through the thicket of the villages' northern foliage and into the warzone. Flying monkeys, hissing snakes, even ostriches with skulls and mudmen wouldn't have fazed him. All pain, all weariness was forgotten in the rush of adrenaline, the pulsing of panic. For a moment, he felt angry at the fact he'd given his island yo-yo to Giskard, realizing he might need it. And his bag of baseballs? Half lost in the waterways of the caverns, the other half strewn about in his rescue of Ezilian the day before. Outside of the Super Nova, he had no weapons to remember his island adventure by…

And the Super Nova, a weapon so devastating and full of significance that Mike never wanted to use it again, was back in his Uncle's laboratory, safely tucked away.

The fire damage was minimal; a few stray Shockwave bolts had singed the island's smokehouse, set it ablaze, but the residential structures remained intact. A little more heat wouldn't kill the meat; ruin the flavor, sure, but the islanders were safe. For now.

He was ready for anything.

Except what he saw when he ventured into the middle of the maelstrom; the center of the village.

Bakusian and Ezilian lay prone on the ground, Ezilian weakly writhing in clear pain and agony, Bakusian looking burned and unconscious facedown. No 'monsters' ran amok through the village, despite Mike's best guess.

Only one monster. More a nightmare…and one Mike had thought dead and gone.

Familiar gauntleted hands flung the bleeding form of Bana Omoy, the elderly shaman of the village to the ground in a swirl of purple fabric. There was an uncaring and cold motion to his moves, as if killing her evoked no rage at all.

Half of Mike wanted to disappear, to shut his eyes and wake up back in Seattle.

This can't be happening…Oh God no…He can't be…He can't be…I…

His mind raced, eyes darting to every inch of the figure in the horned helmet. He was the same, no worse for wear.

I killed him. I KILLED HIM. He can't be alive…Bana…Mother of God, he's…

"NOOOOOOO!" Mike screamed, a shrill combination of terror and anguish at Bana's fatal collapse slashing through the hollow inside of his chest with tremendous force.

Zoda, undeniably Zoda, paused at the sudden noise, turning about. Familiar red eyes peered cautiously at the lad who had evoked such a terrible cry, sizing him up in one quick motion.

"Not so loud, boy." Zoda said coldly, tapping the side of his helmet. "You scream loud enough to bring back the dead."

Mike's chest rose and fell, his lungs hyperventilating not from the physical exertion of his run but the sight before him. "You…You monster…"

Zoda took one glance towards the two huddling Argonian girls, then to Mike again. "I've been called many things over the years. Now then; I was just about to ask these two Argonians if they'd seen their Princess…but perhaps you would be able to help me with that, Earthling."

Mike didn't understand Zoda's demand, nor did he have enough of a level head at that moment to think the request through. His hands tightened into balls, and his eyes shed their last tears for Bana as he shook his head. "NEVER."

Roaring with the anguish of a wounded lion, and just as crazy, Mike rushed at Zoda faster than the alien could have predicted.

The red eyes in the helmet widened for a moment, as caught unawares at the tremendous speed Mike commanded, the alien invader was unable to respond in time. Mike knocked him flat to the ground, air rushing out of the ruthless murderer's lungs as Mike began to land a flurry of honed and trained blows into Zoda's chest, shoulders, and sternum. "DIE!!" Mike screamed, stunning the alien into a brief moment of dazed confusion.

His hand snaked down to the holster at Zoda's side, unsnapping the latch with a deft movement and bringing the weapon to bear in his right hand, the barrel of Zoda's personal laser blaster pointed directly at his skull.

Zoda recovered, and his eyes went wider than they had been the entire day, as for a brief moment, shock and amazement took over. Still, he knew the devastating power of his weapon, and moved quickly, one hand swinging up and over, knocking the weapon free of Mike's grasp before turning back to backhand the earthling off of him.

Stars swirling in his vision, Mike recovered his balance several feet away from the alien, who got to his feet and recovered his lost blaster with ease, tucking it back away. "…You've some speed to you, boy." He growled lowly.

Mike brushed a hand along his lip, bleeding from Zoda's knuckled strike. "You should be DEAD." The boy snapped back, venom and tempered rage glowing in his face. "I KILLED YOU."

The alien invader blinked. "…What? You?" The horned helmet tilted to the side, examining him again. "Impossible." He concluded with a bark. "You're not even a true man. You're a pup filled with crazed ideas. I would remember dying to such a whelp." Zoda's fingers tightened, their points digging into his palm. "…Still, you're a lot of resolve, something that presents a problem. So the problem ends now."

Mike shook his head, rationality finally giving him a sense of confusion. How can he…How can he not remember? I sent him falling to his death in that spaceship, and he acts as if he's never met me?! His musings didn't last long, because Zoda charged at him with a roar, moving with such speed that he appeared as a blur. To Mike, it was an unavoidable attack, but what froze him in place was the feeling that developed in the middle of his gut. He sensed something in Zoda's movements he never thought he would have felt.

Zoda backhanded him to the ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs before pinning him down with a hand to the boy's neck, the points of his gauntleted fingers digging into the tender flesh with a trace of blood rising to the surface. Mike gasped for air that did not come, and Zoda smirked above him.

"You're…using Shilivre…" Mike gasped, hands clawing uselessly against Zoda's fierce grip.

The alien's eyes widened, the red gaze only deepening with a new appraisal of his foe. "And how would YOU know of Shilivre, boy?" Zoda growled, his fingers squeezing in tighter against Mike's strained windpipe. He thought about it for a moment and harrumphed. "The children must have been showing off, eh? No matter. Now you will tell me where the Princess is…or you will suffer before you die."

Mike's eyes went shut, his lips thinning as he kept himself from screaming out in pain.

Please Mica, don't follow me, don't follow me…Stay away, just stay away from here…

His heart fell when the pressure on his neck eased off, and Zoda chuckled softly to the approach of quick, but slowing, and then stopped footsteps.

"Aah, injure the children and the mother cat returns to fight." Zoda announced, looking past Mike to a distant target. The boy opened his eyes, seeing the red glow of Zoda's eyes thin out in what could only be a sickening grin.

"…It can't…You…" Mica began, her voice shaking in fear.

Mike bit his lip hard, drawing a thin trail of blood before taking advantage of Zoda's eased hostilities, smashing up with both feet into the alien's midsection. Zoda grunted in minor pain and surprise, giving Mike enough time to kick him away from him and clamber back up to his feet.

Mike turned away from Zoda for a single moment, his frantic face turning back to look at Mica. Both the Princess and Marlin wore expressions of dull horror, unable to move. Mike had recovered enough from the shock to try and fight back.

Zoda was after her. Why, he didn't know, but it could be nothing good. "RUN, MICA!!" The young Michael Jones screamed, blood seeping from the wounds in his neck as his veins flashed into view. He couldn't wait to see if she had responded, he could only hope…

He tried to turn back around, only to find Zoda's clawed hand snapped like a vise around his neck, choking him off worse than before as his helpless body was hoisted into the air like a rag doll.

"Perish." Zoda rasped, squeezing tighter. Mike could feel his larynx tighten, and despite his best resistance, the muscles gave way to the collapsing force of the monster's hand.

"NEVER!!" Mica screamed, her body finally coming awake to the heat of the moment. Dimly, Mike could hear her voice, but it came like a cry through water. The invisible blast of overwhelming emotion Mica shot at Zoda hit home with the force of a psychic sledgehammer, shaking his concentration and loosening his grip on the boy moments from death.

Mica and Marlin charged at him, the girl screaming blast after blast into Zoda's beleaguered frame. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Mica cried out, one more blast of numbing confusion overwhelming the alien as he dropped Mike to the ground, stumbling backwards. Marlin was quick, moving next to Mike and pulling him away from the alien as Mica continued to unleash her potent Shilivre on him.

For a time, Zoda appeared to be fast losing the battle…but from somewhere within himself, he brought up his own scream, swinging a hand in front of him and firing off a thick arc wave of mental energy. Mica, too concerned on immobilizing Zoda, if not making his head explode, was unable to muster a proper defense. The shot hit, dropping her to her knees in pain.

Zoda stood there for several moments, breathing heavily as he examined them all. Mica, clutching herself as Zoda's engulfing dark thoughts coursed through her, fought no more. "The power of Sellarus beats in your spirit…a powerful strength." Zoda rasped at her, shaking his head. "Too bad for you you never perfected it."

Marlin growled and lowered a slipping Mike to the ground, moving to stand up and fight Zoda himself. The alien's clawed hand snapped down to the reholstered laser blaster at his side, and he fired off a shot at the boy's feet. "Don't even think about it, Marlin Dellin. You don't stand a chance." Zoda snapped.

Marlin bit his lip, staring defiantly at Zoda, no longer charging. "You killed my family…you destroyed my planet. So kill me, or leave me be. But don't threaten."

Another laser blast bored through his shoulder, and Marlin fell to the ground screaming at the perfectly cauterized wound. Zoda lowered his blaster, red eyes flickering.

"That's enough out of you, pup." He tucked his weapon away and moved over to Mica, lifting her up by her arms, suspending her in midair.

The Princess was crying, the emotions of the moment too overwhelming to fight. "You killed my mother."

"Cheer up, Princess." Zoda laughed, a dark and echoing laugh. "I'll send you to join her soon enough."

Bana was dying in a pool of her own blood. Marlin, writhing from his injury. Ezilian, only conscious enough to know that any more movement beyond the halting wheezes of his labored breathing would end his life forever. Bakusian, lying in a shocked heap.

As Zoda dragged Mica back up the ramp into his personal spacecraft, only Mike was conscious enough to struggle towards her, reaching, calling to her weakly through blurred eyes.

She looked back at him, and their eyes met. It was a look Mike never wanted to see on her face.

Mike…I'm sorry. He's going to kill me…I'm so sorry…

Mica, no! Fight! Fight against him! FIGHT!!

As he watched, stunned, the immobile body of Princess Mica seemed to turn paler still, her eyes casting downwards in fresh tears.

The prophecies…It's no use. We couldn't change destiny.

It's not over! Don't give up hope!

He's going to kill me, Mike. Run. Run as far away as you can, I could never forgive myself if he came back and killed…

I WON'T LOSE YOU!!

"NO!" Mike screamed, her telepathy cutting off as Zoda hurled her limp body inside his ship and closed the door after him. The ramp pulled into his spaceship, and still Mike crawled, inch by painful inch closer to it.

No…

Not like this…

MICA!! FIGHT HIM!!

Please Mica, I can't lose you!

Zoda's ship powered up, whining for a long moment before lifting effortlessly into the air and shooting off to the northeast.

Weakly, Mike's hand stretched after it.

"…Mica…"

Exhausted, he collapsed and fell into darkness for the fourth time in two days.

Only this time, it wasn't the screams of his loved ones, or the cries of his friends that followed him…

But the cruel and inhuman laughter of a nightmare he thought long dead.

---

Howduyadocola

His spare notebook was quickly filling up with musings, ramblings, and failed translations to the cipher. Only a few sections had been successfully revealed, and those did little to help him interpret the true meaning, the purpose of Hirocon's second piece of the puzzle for his children's rescuers.

The piece of the puzzle involving King Hirocon himself.

Giskard tottered over, collapsing into a cross-legged position next to his mentor. "Anything new?"

"If only." Dr. Jones exhaled, shaking his head. "You having any more luck?"

"…Yeah." Giskard nodded, rubbing at his head. "This is a relic from the Starseeker's galactic sojourns, all right; The last relic. This place, from what else I've found, is called…Rellini Uros."

"…Rellini?" Dr. Jones asked, adjusting his glasses. "Like Ellini?"

"Sort of." Giskard harrumphed. "Ellini, translated, means "One who shines"…The Starseer's weapon which he used to beat back the mythical Star Devils. Rellini isn't an object, though; that's the ancient word for the Starseekers. And Uros, that means end, conclusion…Simply put, this place was called 'Starseeker's End'. The history's a little more sketchy, as the writings I've found only cover the basics. They arrived, they landed, they set up shop. They tried their best not to interfere with the locals; your primitive ancestors, I imagine…and life went on normally. Then out of the blue they mention the birth of 'The Unlikely Son', and from there, it goes downhill fast."

"Downhill as in bad?"

Giskard shook his head. "Sketchier. It took the Starseekers years to cross the stars; but then they talk about the ruler of their homeland appearing before them in a flash of light, coming to bring them home."

"…So they abandoned this place?"

"Who, the Starseekers?" Giskard responded, shrugging. "I couldn't tell you that. What I can tell you is that the ruler…which has to be a king somewhere, but I'm not sure which one…only took one person back with him. The unlikely son."

"And the unlikely son did something so horrible that this place was abandoned, the son exiled, and all records of this place…"

"Rellini-Uros…"

"Rellini-Uros, right, all records of it were destroyed."

"It's starting to make more sense, at least." Giskard nodded. "…You really think Zoda is the unlikely son? That would make him…By the stars, tremendously old."

"Maybe. Or maybe space travel just takes forever." Dr. Jones harrumphed. "I don't know. It's just that Zoda's displayed an uncanny familiarity with these ruins, and anyone rationally who would have known about this place would have to be dead by now. Yet here he stands…in complete command of his surroundings."

Giskard closed his eyes. "My head's starting to hurt."

"I agree." Dr. Jones nodded, putting his own notepad down. "We can only think about this so long."

Giskard breathed for a moment, then slammed his hand into the ground. "Damnitall."

"Now what?"

"I'd almost forgotten for a moment…about why we're trapped here." Giskard snuffled, shaking his disheveled face. "I must be the sickest man alive; To forget everyone else, what's going on, all for an archaeological dig, a word puzzle!" He choked up at that, and the Professor put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"That doesn't make you a bad person. We're in a terrible situation." Dr. Jones explained, nodding at the boy. "It's natural for you to want to distance yourself from the situation; for us, that distraction is uncovering the mysteries of this place…Rellini-Uros. It's what's keeping you sane, keeping you going forward."

"Yeah, for all the good it does." Giskard mumbled. "If we leave, those…those things shambling about'll just drag us back here. If we learn anything, so what? It'll make us more aware of our surroundings, sure, but it won't bring us any closer to escaping. Meanwhile, Zoda's likely already been to Coralcola, destroyed everything in his path, and killed all the others. The only reason I'm alive is because you said you needed me."

"I DO need you." Dr. Jones urged the boy. "Nobody on Earth is as useful as you are…and I'll be frank, Giskard. I haven't enjoyed going on a dig with somebody for years. You're one of the best individuals it's ever been my pleasure to work with."

The boy looked down at his hand, smiling at the archaeologist's warm words. "I…I didn't care about anything for the longest time. Losing Argonia was painful, sure…but everyone else had people they loved. My only friends were the books and histories I dove into to get away from everyone else. I was worthless to my family, to their goals, and to the hierarchy's succession. Then I come here…And everything gets turned over."

"Things take on a new meaning…when you've something to care about." Dr. Jones agreed, patting the boy on the shoulder. "Here, you have people that care about you."

"No wonder King Hirocon sent us here then." Giskard explained, smiling through his tears. "Here, at least, there's love beyond the fallacy of social appearance."

"…What did Zoda mean?"

"Hmm?"

"When Zoda addressed you…he called you a mule." Dr. Jones said cautiously. "Was that a derogatory term?"

Giskard was silent for a moment. "…To me, yes. But not to Argonians as a whole. You remember the Prophecy of the Starseer?"

"Oh, that story about your mythical hero figure of the past?"

"He had a power, which he used in conjunction with Ellini to beat back the Star Devils. It was passed on through the royal family into the Argonian population. Those that could wield it became nobles…and thus, the hierarchy was born, with those gifted with the strength of the Starseer being granted privilege and rank above the common people. My family was nobility…But I was born without that strength. Without Shilivre." Giskard chirruped at that, shaking his head. "That was Mica's biggest fear when we got here…that our secret power would be discovered, we'd be seen as monsters. But I suppose none of that matters now. We're all dead."

Dr. Jones blinked. "…Shilivre?"

"Yeah."

"What exactly…can it do?"

"You can fight with it. You can communicate with it. You can heal wounds, push your endurance to new heights…and in rare cases, among the legendary users, even create objects out of the air about you. Whatever…whatever you have the strength and imagination to pull off, really."

The archaeologist's eyes went wide. "…Now it all makes sense."

"What does?" Giskard asked, curious.

"Zoda…Why he wanted the cubes, the cubes that contained you and the other Argonians! He wanted that power!"

"What, Shilivre? But why?"

"Because!!" Dr. Jones exploded, now swept up in the moment. He swung his arms about. "Mike said it himself! He touched the red cube, and his weapon became the Super Nova!"

"…Creation…"

"He touched the second cube and he felt unparalleled sources of stamina well up in him!"

"…No…His life energies were increased…but then…By the STARS…"

"He wanted your power!" Dr. Jones exclaimed. "He wanted Shilivre to wield for his own!"

Dr. Jones grinned like that for a few more moments, then dropped into shock as if somebody had slapped him across the face. "Oh…God no."

"What?" Giskard asked, going from concerned to frantic as he saw horror overtake his friend. "Damnitall, WHAT?!"

"…He was after the Princess." Dr. Jones whispered, the color draining out of his cheeks. "…Mica…"

The meaning hit Giskard harder than the Professor, and he slumped backwards, shaking his head. "Oh, please…not that…"

"He wants the power of Shilivre for his own." Dr. Jones concluded, closing his eyes. "And who better to steal it from…Than the last of the royal line?"

Giskard's conversation with the alien invader flashed back into his head.

What would you want with the Princess?

Something I have waited many years to obtain.

Slowly, Giskard shook his head. "I'm worthless to him. I don't have what he wants. But the others…"

"It's all up to Mike now." Dr. Jones exhaled, looking to his friend. "If he can't stop him…"

His voice trailed off. The consequences didn't need to be announced.

---

Coralcola Island

"Mike…" She cried out, reaching for him as a black cloud with glowing red eyes slowly engulfed her.

"MICA!!" He reached and fell short, the cloud laughing darkly as it pulled her away from his grasp. Screaming, he reached out to her.

There was sadness in her eyes; sadness and a total lack of hope. "Run." She mouthed to him. "Save yourself…there's nothing you can do."

"I'm not leaving you!!" His voice gurgled as if it was underwater, hollowed.

Mica screamed out in pain as the black cloud covered her completely, vanishing into flaring red eyes.

It came closer, the edges of nightshade creeping over his feet like the coldest ice, freezing him in place. It laughed, eating Mica alive, forever destroying the most precious glow she held within her.

He screamed her name…

"MICA!!" With a start and a flare of pain in his wheezing lungs, Mike bolted upright, clutching at his neck, grimacing. He felt no blood from the small puncture wounds Zoda's clawed hand had engraved into his neck, though his larynx was still sore. A bandage was wrapped around his neck, comfortable and not strangling. His head hurt the worst; he'd been knocked unconscious four times in the last two days, and as an athlete, he knew that there was significant danger associated with that. By all accounting, he should have gone comatose at some point. Or psychotic.

Given the lucid dreams he'd been having through the course of his periods in darkness, the second possibility might not have been far off.

He was in a hut. His shirt was hanging on a post beside the bed,

It was Hapo who poked into the hut Mike had been placed in for recovery. There was a sadness in his eyes, even as he was grateful for Mike's recovery.

"Mike…I'm glad you're up." The Chief said, pushing through the curtains and nodding at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like somebody stomped on my neck."

"Your injuries were minimal; with some of our palm salve, we stopped the bleeding, and cleaning you up was easy. All the same, he did a number on you."

Mike pushed aside the covers, reaching for his T-Shirt. "How…How are the others?" He asked, as he pushed through the haze of his restless slumber, focusing on the traumatic events earlier in the day.

"Marlin…He took a bad hit through the shoulder from that weapon Zoda had on him. I was able to sanitize the wound, but it will never move the same again. He's…crippled. Will be for the rest of his life."

Mike's face tightened. "Which arm was it?"

"His…right arm." Hapo said, after a pause. Mike clenched his fist up more.

Marlin…He'll never be able to throw a ball again.

"…And the others?"

"Bakusian took a bad hit of…that strange energy. Zoda turned his own attack back on him. He's a little woozy still, but he'll be fine. But Ezilian…" Hapo whispered, closing his eyes.

Mike slipped his shirt on, biting his lip. "How's he doing?"

"…That terrible monster, Zoda…He broke almost half of Ezilian's ribs. That boy will be lucky to live through the rest of this day. If he does, it will be a long and hard road to recovery."

"God above." Mike murmured, his head twisting left and right. "He tore right through us."

"I thought you said you killed him." The Chief mentioned, a hint of irritation in his voice. Mike turned and glared at him.

"I DID kill him. I had nightmares after that, Chief. I shattered his body, and sent him falling to his death in his own spaceship. I can't explain it. I don't know why he's back." The boy shook his head. "He…Didn't even know me. It doesn't make sense. Nothing does."

"Bana said there was a storm coming." Hapo said after a moment. "I suppose none of us understood what she really meant."

"Until it was too late." Mike remarked bitterly, slamming a fist against his leg.

Hapo nodded slowly, then turned for the door. "If…If you're well enough, my sister…Bana wanted to see you."

Mike blinked. "Why?"

The Island Chief turned, more pain on his face than he'd displayed all day. "She's dying, Michael."

"Oh God."

"She tried fighting Zoda…She tried, and she was dealt a mortal wound for it. We patched her up, but she's lost too much blood. Still, she's holding on. She won't die. She's adamant about that, Mike, she wants to see you."

"Why?"

Hapo blinked a few times, blinking fresh tears from his eyes. "What was it she says all the time? "Only the stars know"…So go to her. It is the last request you will be able to fulfill for a dying woman."

Mike got up and walked over to the chief, bringing him into a hug. "I'm sorry." He uttered, as Hapo's bear hug tightened around him.

"Go see her." Hapo snuffled. "Before it's too late."

---

Bana was resting peacefully when Mike entered into her hut, looking up at the ceiling with a strained tranquility. They had made her change clothes; no longer was she in the familiar red garb she wore in her role as the shaman of Coralcola. She rested in a thin robe of white, nearly matching her pale skin.

Somehow, she had the energy to turn and look at him, her cheeks wrinkling with a weak smile at his approach. "Aah, Mike."

He walked over and knelt beside her bed, taking her hand between his, nodding his head. "I…I was told you wanted to see me."

"I did." Bana replied, coughing for a moment. Her head rested back against her pillow, eyes turning up to the ceiling. "Michael…There are things you must know. Things you will need…if you are going to rescue Mica, and stop Zoda."

Mike shook his head. "I can't stop him, Bana!" There was frustration in his eyes. "I stopped him once…but he just came back, stronger than ever!"

Bana's hand flexed inside of his grip. "You did not face Zoda in your Test of Island Courage."

The boy blinked. "What?"

"You fought Zoda…but it was a false one. A shadow of the real person." Bana explained wearily. "The real Zoda…He is from this place."

Mike's shock made it evident he didn't believe her.

"Long ago…My people lived in these islands, refugees from the lands to the west, unwilling to face the great ocean to the rising sun. Then…strangers from the stars came. They went everywhere, explored the entire planet…But this was their home."

"…Coralcola?"

"No." Bana smiled, shaking her head. "But these islands…the islands of the Southern Cross were. They stayed at a place they called Rellini-Uros…The ruins your Uncle found by Howduyadocola. I only know of it from the legends passed down through my people, but it was a grand place, made with the knowledge of their explorations of Earth. In time, though, they sealed off Rellini-Uros, and lived among us, leaving behind their other lives and joining us."

Mike bit his lip. "That's one heck of a story."

"It is no story, Michael. It is the truth. One of the explorers from the stars was a woman, who fell in love with one of my ancestors. She gave birth to a son…the unlikely son, as he is called in our tradition. Zoda…Is that son."

Mike fell backwards, scrambling to get off of the ground and stand up. "WHAT?!"

"A great king…came to Rellini-Uros, looking to take them back. Only one person wanted to go; the unlikely son. So he did, and the others stayed behind. His mother gave birth to another child, a girl, my direct ancestor…it is through the explorers of the stars that I have my mystical powers." Bana grunted as she turned her head sideways, blinking at him.

The same power…that you now have.

Mike bit his lip. "Those explorers…Are you saying they were Argonian?"

The shaman smiled. "It was no mistake that the Argonian children were sent here to flee. This…is a place known to them. When they came, though, only ruins remained. Rellini-Uros was sealed."

"Why?"

"The stories are never sure." Bana explained, struggling to maintain her voice through her waning moments. "But…they all agree that the unlikely son, wherever he went, did something terrible. As a result, all connection with Rellini-Uros was severed as punishment…and the inhabitants were banished to Earth, never to see their true homes again."

"And now, hundreds of years later…"

"The unlikely son has returned." Bana finished, exhaling. "Michael…The Princess is in terrible danger. I foresaw it long ago, the approaching storm. I've tried…tried for so long to steer you towards each other."

"Why?"

"She needs you." The shaman answered sadly. "Now, more than ever, she needs you. She will die if you do not stop him, Mike. It is your destiny."

"THAT DESTINY CRAP IS BULLSHIT!" Mike screamed, his temper flaring up in a sudden burst. "The Argonians think I'm the Starseer…I'm NOT! I can't be! ZODA BEAT ME! I couldn't save Mica! Mica couldn't even save herself!" Mike raised a finger to her lips as the woman began to respond. "And don't give me any of that nonsense about how only the stars have the answers. That's lunacy."

The shaman's eyes burned into him for a long moment. "Then tell me, Mike…Tell me you haven't been having strange visions."

Mike's voice caught in his throat.

"Visions of events…long past. Events you do not believe in."

"They're just dreams…"

"Dreams come from your heart." Bana said wryly. "They tell you what your thoughts do not wish to believe."

That you…are the Starseer reborn.

Mike's face went hard, his face shaking back and forth vigorously in a no. "I…I can't be."

"You wield his weapon. You carry his legacy. You saved them."

Mike looked at her, deadpan. "Then why are they still in danger?"

"Because. Your role…is not yet done."

"What makes you think I stand a chance? He tossed me aside like a rag doll."

"You were not armed. You were not in command of your full potential."

"I can't use Shilivre, Bana. I have it, but I can't use it."

Bana closed her eyes again. "My…My gift…was the ability to see the things only the stars knew. I cannot give you that. But I can tell you this. After Mica told her story…I asked the stars to show me everything of that event. And they did. So let me tell you what I learned, Mike. The Starseer…yes, he had Ellini, and he had Shilivre. But he had something else that nobody else did. The courage…the courage to stand up against the insurmountable and topple the darkness."

She looked at him, smiling. "You have that courage in you. You won it when you passed your Test. That cannot be given to you. If you believe in nothing else, believe in your own courage, for that will never fail you." Wincing for a moment, she fell back to the bed, more exhausted by the last few minutes than the time he'd been out. Her labored breathing frightened Mike, and he raised her hand up, squeezing it.

"No…No, you can't leave me! I need you!"

"No you don't." Bana replied, her eyes drifting shut for the last time. "You've everything you need. Just believe in yourself…And fulfill the destiny that has been put in front of you by legend."

"But I don't believe in legends. I'm not the Starseer." Mike argued weakly, squeezing her hand again. "I'm not…"

"One day…the stars will talk to you as well. And you will know for yourself…who you are." She rasped.

"I can't do this." Mike whispered, crying. "It's impossible."

"So was what you did before." Bana exhaled. "Legend or no…Michael…You are the only one who can save her. Go to Rellini-Uros…And stop Zoda."

Mike bit his lip for a few moments.

I never asked for this.

I can't do this…

But Mica…

Mica…

He squeezed her hand. "I'll rescue her." He finally said, his voice grave.

The old shaman smiled with her eyes closed. She said nothing else.

Her chest rose and fell one last time, then went quiet.

Brushing the tears out of his eyes, Mike put her hand over her heart, turning about and walking out of the hut. In his heart, he still had many doubts. Without Bana, he felt lost. She'd always been a source of cryptic, but useful advice.

And now she was gone.

Outside the hut, Mike's eyes met the anxious and worried expression of Hapo Omoy; Bana's brother, the island chief.

Mike's eyes fell to the ground, and he didn't need to look to know that Hapo felt crushed. There had been much pain on the island today.

Much death.

Mike looked back up, setting his jaw. He would check in on the others first…Just to make sure they'd be all right.

Legend or no…You are the only one who can save her.

He didn't know a lot of things. He didn't even know anymore who he was. But there were two things he knew as he marched towards the hut where Ezilian was kept.

He loved Princess Mica.

And he would do anything to save her.

---

Even through the anesthetic haze of the salve that the villagers had used to numb the pain in his shoulder, Marlin Dellin could still feel the wound. He'd never stop feeling it.

Of course, laser wounds were something that he had been required to study at Argonia under the watchful tutelage of the Nobles' instructors. The shot had burned clean through, that much was certain; only the toughest of hides could prevent a blast from completely penetrating. After the initial blast, his wound had been imperfectly cauterized, with a minor chance of infection. Eventually, his body would recover the wound, leaving him with a permanent scar, but at least, no holes in his body. The one thing his body could not do was repair the nerve endings and muscle cells the attack had ruined.

His right arm moved sluggishly now. It seemed to delay its movement to his call, and it shifted oddly. It was out of place.

"Like I am now." He said dully. Sitting outside the hut where Ezilian lay in bed, half dead from his more severe wounds, the young Argonian boy was still coping with the implications that came with his new injuries.

And I was just getting good at pitching.

"Hey." Marlin looked up to the source of the greeting, Mike Jones.

"Hey yourself." Marlin said dully.

"You holding up?"

"Princess Mica's been stolen, Zoda's returned, and I'll never be able to throw a ball right again." Marlin retorted, all humor drained out of him. "Oh yeah. I'm great." The Argonian blinked at Mike. "How about you?"

"I'm going after her." Mike responded.

Marlin blinked back. "Excuse me?"

Mike's eyes were solid. "You heard me. I'm following them."

"But you don't know where they're going!"

"Bana told me, just before she died." Mike answered easily. "He's taking her to…Rellini-Uros." Marlin looked blankly at him, and Mike shook his head. "What? No shock or surprise?"

"If I knew what you were talking about, I'd be more prone to do something else." Marlin shrugged. "Is it supposed to be important?"

Mike shook his head. "…No. Not right now. I just came to check on you and the others."

"The girls are fine." Marlin said easily. "Bakusian's out like a light; he never was able to take much punishment. Ezilian's just sort of lying in there, half dead. Amethyst is with him." Marlin motioned to himself. "And of course, I'm here."

Mike's eyes caught the grace at which Marlin moved his left hand. "Hey…Marlin?"

"Yeah?"

"You still have a baseball on you?"

"…Yeah." Marlin said after a pause. "What for?"

Mike nodded at him. "Toss it to me."

Marlin reached into his back pocket, pulling out a circular lump of stitched leather and string around a hard rubber core. Without any energy in his movements at all, he prepared to throw it at Mike in an underhanded toss.

Mike shook his head, backing up a few steps. "No. Really throw it to me."

Marlin bit his lip. "Are you blind, or just stupid?! I just told you I can't throw!"

"Not with your right arm." Mike interrupted, stopping Marlin's rage. "Use your left one."

Marlin blinked at the odd request for a few moments, but began an off-balance windup and threw it all the same.

It wasn't his dominant hand, but it flew just as straight and true, landing in Mike's cupped hands.

Mike smiled, walking over to his dumbfounded comrade and dropping the ball in his left hand. "Well, I'll be. You lucky dog, you. You may favor the right hand, but you're not right-handed."

"…Wha…"

"You're ambidextrous." Mike continued, finding a small amount of joy in one saving grace of the day's tragedy. "Which means, my friend…you can still pitch."

Marlin looked at him for a moment, grateful tears starting to well up in his eyes before he attacked him in a powerful one armed hug. "Thank you, Mike."

"Thank your genetics." Mike said, patting the boy on the head.

Amethyst poked her head outside of the cabin, looking to Mike. "Ezilian…heard you outside, Mike. He wants to see you."

"Marlin told me how he's doing." Mike replied, backing away from the boy to look at the girl who was his age. "He isn't dying, not at the moment…And I have places yet to be. So why should I go in there?"

Amethyst looked stung, but nodded. "You're right. He's never given you much of a reason to have any loyalty towards him. But…please." She clasped her hands together, pleading with him. "For me, at least."

Mike drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Some days, Jones…"

Nodding at the girl, he walked into the hut. He wouldn't stay long. And if Ezilian made a crack at him…This farce of a meeting was over.

---

Bana had looked peaceful in her bed, approaching the end of her life with a quiet dignity and resilience that only true faith could bring. Ezilian Ranuforte was none of that, his right hand clenching and unclenching through the terrible gasping pain of trying to breathe with countless broken ribs. Amethyst went back to his side, grabbing his spasming hand and gently squeezing it, reasserting her presence. "Shh. It's all right."

"Amethyst…" Ezilian said haltingly, somewhere between sleep and the euphoria his endorphins caused. "Did Jones agree?"

"You can talk to me yourself, Ezilian." Mike announced, folding his arms as he walked over to the Argonian's bedside. "Christ…you look like Hell."

"You…would be too." Ezilian grimaced, his hand tensing around Amethyst's. "Mica…Did she…"

Mike blinked, looking over to Amethyst with a curious look. "You didn't tell him?" He whispered, too softly for Ezilian to hear, but clearly enough Amethyst could read his lips.

The girl's eyes went dim, and she shook her head.

Mike exhaled. "I don't know how to tell you this, Ezilian…Zoda overwhelmed us all. He subdued Mica, threw her into his spaceship and took off."

"Some…hero you…turned out to be." Ezilian spat out, gasping as his anger pushed him into more pain.

"Stop it, Ezilian!" Amethyst chided him, forcing him back down on the bed. "You can't go off getting angry again. You need to rest."

"I can't…" Ezilian grunted, struggling against the girl as he tried to pick himself up and out of the bed. "I have to…Save…" He tensed up against a hidden pain from somewhere within his chest, collapsing back to the bed with a terrible cry.

Amethyst squeezed his hand all the harder, her other hand on her shoulder as she glared down into his eyes, crying. "Damnit, you stubborn mule…You're not going anywhere! You can't save Princess Mica!"

"…I…couldn't save anyone." Ezilian rasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and forwards again, struggling for consciousness. "I failed…"

"I know where he's taking her." Mike interrupted. "He's going to the ruins by Howduyadocola…the ruins your ship crashed in. Rellini-Uros."

"…You…You're…Kidding me…" Ezilian wheezed, forcing his head sideways to glance at Mike. Even with the intense pain on his face, the earth native could make out the shock on his face. "I don't…know much Ancient Argonian, but…I know that."

"What does it mean?"

"Starseeker's…End…"

"I've never heard of that!" Amethyst exclaimed.

"No…you wouldn't have…you were too young." Ezilian noted, looking at Mike. "Some years…before Argonia fell, the records of Rellini-Uros were destroyed. It was all but forgotten, by royal decree…We simply forgot it ever existed."

"It does exist." Mike noted. "And that's where Zoda is taking Mica."

"Then…there's still a chance." Ezilian nodded.

"Oh no you don't." Amethyst warned him. "You're half dead. You're in no condition to go gallivanting about on a rescue mission!"

"None of us are." Ezilian retorted quietly. "Nobody…but Mike."

The response was so out of fashion for Ezilian that Mike had to blink and look at the older boy with disbelief. "What?"

Ezilian's jaw clenched, not from the intense pain of his condition, but something else inside of him. Finally, he looked at Mike, his fire all but burned out.

"I…I wasn't strong enough. All my training, all my power…and I wasn't strong enough." Ezilian's head rolled lazily back and forth as he tried to shake it. "Zoda's strong…I thought for the longest time nothing could stand in my way. Nothing…was beyond me. He was."

"He's worse than when I fought him on the spaceship." Mike said slowly, mentally wincing as he recalled Bana's words again. You fought Zoda…but it was a shadow of the real one.

"This is a fine…time for you to be complaining about your weaknesses." Ezilian eked out, managing a glare. "I don't like you, Mike. I can still hate you…But…" The brief anger flickered away. "I'm begging you, Mike. Save Princess Mica. Stop Zoda."

Mike folded his arms. "Why?"

"You were going to anyway, weren't you?" Ezilian retorted, his breath hissing between his teeth. "You care about her…I've never seen…the look that was in your face when Zoda dragged her away. Not on anyone. Near as I can tell…you're the only person who can anyhow."

"Why?"

"…I'm not going to say it." Ezilian growled, blinking his eyes slowly.

Mike looked down to the floor. "Then don't. I have a hard time believing that myself."

"Even though you're not…" Ezilian said, being very clear to emphasize his words, "You…did it once. You took him down once. That's more than anyone else ever did."

A shaking hand came up and pointed to Mike. "I don't believe in prophecies. And I'm not a fan of miracles…but the betting odds are on you."

His hand slumped back down to the bed, his energy spent. "So don't fail me."

He breathed in and out a few more times, his eyes drifting shut.

After the silence, Mike looked to Amethyst with a worried look. Her hand on his wrist, she shook her head.

"He's asleep, Mike."

"Small miracles." The Earth boy exhaled. "Will he live?"

"I've got him confined to bed until he's recovered." Amethyst returned, a grim smile on her face. "He will get better." She motioned to the door. "But you had better get going."

Mike nodded, remembering his role.

What had to be done.

Outside, Marlin and Hapo Omoy were standing next to each other, looking towards him. With his newly discovered left hand, Marlin slowly waved at him.

Mike nodded towards them, mouthing his simple thought.

Just like before…without any control whatsoever…his mind carried the thought on another wavelength.

He won't take her. I promise you that.

Hapo blinked, rubbing at his ear. Marlin sunk into a gentle smile and nodded.

Coralcola Village grew quiet again as Mike ventured out through the north exit…towards the path that would take him back to his Uncle's laboratory.

It would still be a while before Sub-C returned to port, from what he recalled of the computer display before the small cave-in rained on his uncle's expensive hardware.

Time enough to pick up a few things…And one item he thought he would never have to use again.

---

The Ruins at Howduyadocola (Rellini-Uros)

6:37 P.M.

Their chilling discovery had ended the need to further translate the mysteries of Rellini-Uros. They knew as much about this place as they needed to, for the moment at least. One mystery partway solved, Giskard Rorth and Dr. Steven Jones set their sights on continuing in the other; the cipher.

"This would be easier if it wasn't so damn confusing." Giskard mumbled, his fingertips gently stroking across the engraved surface. "You break King Hirocon's great code in moments, and then we bump into this."

"Writing in reverse is an old trick." Dr. Jones replied, looking back to his notes for a check on a word. "This is Hirocon's real puzzler."

"…Puzzler." His companion murmured. Frowning, he brought his hand up and tapped on another one of the symbols. "This…this means puzzle."

"Aah, you've found one of the three I was able to translate."

Giskard stared a little harder. "...I've been looking at this all wrong."

"Hmm?"

Giskard's hand ran across the surface again, left to right, and then right to left. "No, no…not like this."

His hand went back to the far left side of the cipher, tapping. "No wonder this didn't make sense to you. It's gibberish."

"We've established that." Dr. Jones murmured, frazzled. Giskard glanced up to him, a small glimmer of an idea flashing in his eyes.

"So try looking at it differently."

His hand, from the left edge of the scrambled Argonian script, didn't go right.

It went down.

"My name is King Hirocon of the Planet Argonia." Giskard muttered slowly, translating as he went. "I have done what I could for the others. They are on this ship…Soon to be sent off towards a new planet, and what I can only hope is a future better than the certain death they face here."

"Giskard, you…" Dr. Jones exclaimed, his now open eyes following the words at a slower pace. Only half as far as Giskard was, his eyes came alight with new understanding. "Oh, Hirocon you GENIUS!" The archaeologist laughed aloud.

"Uh, doc?" Giskard asked, looking up to him. "This is hard enough. Think you might quiet down?"

"Right, right." The doctor corrected himself, shaking his head. "Keep going."

Giskard squinted a little harder. "He has this…going around in an inwards spiral. It's a strange way to scribble something. I don't think he did it just to be cute, either…No, Hirocon was too thoughtful. There's a hidden meaning to the pattern of his words."

"I am alive, and so is Zoda. He must not be allowed…he cannot be allowed to obtain the power of the Starseer. Once the children are gone and safe, I am his next source, so I too must disappear. Death will not sway him from me. So instead…I will take my essence beyond his reach. I may never see my precious Seremichaela or the others again…But it must be done. If someone is reading this, then it means the children are free and, hopefully, safe. To you, I now ask another boon. I cannot return on my own…"

Giskard shook his head. "Hirocon, you…What are you…" He coughed and continued. "Only the one guided by my old friend's hand will be able to recover me…and bring me back to the living world through the puzzle."

Dr. Jones shook his head, tapping the three symbols he'd successfully translated before Giskard stepped in. "Hirocon. Essence. Puzzle."

"You got the short version right." Giskard said, after a pause. "That was still tough going. You really have to know your ancient Argonian for any of that to make sense; Even then, without the spiral, it wouldn't make sense."

"Is that all it said?" Dr. Jones asked.

"…No." His apprentice replied slowly. He brought his hand up and stroked about halfway through the pattern, before descending again. "I ended the translation here. That was the most I could make out quickly. The rest of this…" He motioned to the smaller square of runic gibberish, "…Was written in a completely different way. And this isn't Argonian…or Ancient Argonian. It's something else." He looked back to Dr. Jones. "I can't make it out, but…I'd wager…"

"It's the puzzle?" Dr. Jones asked.

Giskard cracked another rare smile. "This really is Hirocon's handiwork. He wasn't the strongest king…but he was one of the smartest."

"And this puzzle…"

"I see you two wasted no time in getting down to business." A dark voice echoed loudly through the caverns. The two decryptors froze up for a moment, turning around to see their captor, the alien invader Zoda march back into their section of the caverns, followed closely behind by a shambling pack of his rotted underlings.

Zoda folded his arms, clawed fingers tapping against his elbow. "So tell me then, scholar. What have you and the mule discovered?"

Dr. Jones hesitated, not sure how much about their revelations of the cipher, however brief, he could get away with keeping secret. Giskard responded as only he could, biting his lip and swiftly moving to unsettle the calm and controlled poise of the monster.

"This place was called Rellini-Uros. Starseeker's End." Giskard said bravely, standing up and glaring at Zoda. "It was abandoned years ago…because somebody called 'the unlikely son' did something so horrible that all records of Rellini-Uros were erased from the Argonian archives."

"…You've done your homework." Zoda said appreciatively. He waved a hand about. "True enough…this was Rellini-Uros, a long long time ago." His red eyes narrowed, boring in on Giskard. "Though…If you were able to deduce that much, my young friend…Then you and this troublesome scholar you are working for must have felt you had enough progress on your real project to survive the night." Zoda took a step towards Giskard. "Or perhaps you're just that much of a fool."

The boy tensed up, unsure of what to say.

"It's…It's about King Hirocon!" Dr. Jones finally spat out, fearing for Giskard's life. Zoda stopped walking towards them, aahing in appreciation.

"See, mule? Even the human can do it." Zoda turned and looked at Dr. Jones. "Very well then. What about him?"

"It talks about you, oddly enough." Dr. Jones answered. "About how he sent the children away from Argonia to escape you…"

"For all the good that did the sentimental fool…"

"And how he left."

"Left?" Zoda said, tilting his head to the side. It was obvious he wanted a clarification.

"…We…Read that he 'transferred' himself out of your reach." Dr. Jones finally said. "Because…you were after his strength. And he would not let you have it."

Zoda pondered that for a moment, then chuckled. "That's Hirocon for you."

"Is that why you don't care about me?" Giskard ventured bravely. "Because I don't have any power for you to take?"

"My, and here I thought you were just a pretty face." Zoda snarled briefly. "Astoundingly, yes. I seek the power of the Starseer's heritage. You truly are useless to me."

The alien pondered for a moment, then harrumphed. "However, others…are certainly not." He stepped to the side, and his shambling undead servants parted behind him. One at the rear of a pack pushed in a hunched over figure, a brilliant ceremonial cape around her shoulders.

As she landed on her knees next to the two men, Giskard could feel all of his glimmering hope snap in an instant.

Her eyes were red and tearstricken, her hair mussed, and her disposition one of lost hope. As if to try and hide, she pulled the out of place cape tighter around herself.

"I know, she does seem a little out of place…" Zoda rumbled, his claws rapping against his elbow. "I had to replicate a new cape for her…Maybe she thought a change of clothes would alter who she was. It didn't."

Giskard pulled the Princess closer to them, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sorry." He said, meaning it.

"The others put up a decent fight; some of the other noble children have learned a few tricks." Zoda continued, humoring them. "And there were a few others that made an attempt at being heroes. Pity. Heroes have no place here."

Biting his lip, Dr. Jones looked at him. "Who…Who fought you?!"

Zoda seemed to smirk. "Ohh. Afraid I killed anybody you cared about?"

"DAMN YOUR EYES, WHO?!"

"An old woman had a few…interesting revelations for me. And a young boy with the strange idea he was responsible for ending my life."

Dr. Jones' heart stopped cold.

Mike…

"I will return for the Princess in the morning." Zoda announced, looking to them coldly. "Then you will continue your examination of the cipher. Hirocon will not escape me."

"You're a monster…" Giskard choked out, fighting through the crushing sensations he felt thinking about who was still alive on Coralcola.

"Monster?" Zoda echoed, curious. Slowly, he shook his head. "For thirsting for power? That's not monstrous. That's a universal tradition."

"Your heart is as black as the wretched place that spawned you." Giskard spat back, unstopped.

Zoda laughed at that, cruelly. "Watch your tongue, boy. You're standing in my birthplace."

His rage dampened the disbelief, but Giskard was still taken aback enough to fall silent. Zoda looked around. "The unlikely son…I believe that's what they called me. The product of an Argonian mother and a male from this planet long ago. Both…but more appropriately, neither."

Zoda turned around, walking off. "Princess Mica, daughter of Sellarus…tomorrow, your strength finally becomes mine." He paused at the edge of the zombies, his helmeted head turning around just enough so they could see one red eye flicker. "Pleasant dreams."

His purple cape flowing behind him, the alien invader strolled through his servants and away from the cavern chamber.

Numbly, Giskard rubbed Mica's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "You…you were right." He said, glancing towards Dr. Jones. A moment later, he shook his head. "Damn it all…you were right all along."

"There are days I wish I wasn't." Dr. Jones reminded him. "Today is certainly one of those moments."

"So he's the unlikely son." Giskard continued. "The reason that this entire place, the exploits of the Starseekers sent here…were erased from record."

Princess Mica fell into a collapse of sobs, and Dr. Jones pulled her into a reassuring hug, shaking his head. "I think now's not the best time…to worry about that sort of thing, Giskard." He exhaled, only his concern for Giskard and Mica negating his desire to collapse into his own grief. "Mike…That monster killed Mike…"

Mica wiped a few tears from her eyes, looking at the archaeologist. "No…No, Mike's alive. That's the only reason I haven't died of a broken heart."

"…But, Zoda…" Dr. Jones continued, less grave yet confused.

"Zoda defeated him." Mica said, her face ashen. "Zoda…defeated everyone. And he killed Bana…maybe Ezilian too." The Princess shook her head. "Father…you should have just let us die."

Giskard blinked, stunned. "How can you say that? We narrowly escaped death…"

"And now we're all dead anyway!" Mica shrieked, nails digging into her palms. "Zoda…He wants my strength. Once he has it…it's over. And everything is in jeopardy. My mother was the keeper of Sellarus' legacy…and when she was killed during the invasion, I became the last link."

Dr. Jones gently rubbed her back, confused. "I don't understand. If he wanted your strength, why didn't he take it after he defeated all the others? Why go to the trouble of dragging you back here?"

Mica's head bowed. "The others…Zoda defeated them, but they wore him down. He muttered something about needing his full strength on the ride over. He needs tonight to rest…So I've a night to feel helpless before I die."

Dr. Jones clenched his teeth. "I've never allowed myself to fall into a hopeless situation, and I'm not about to start now. With you here, we can fight our way out, we can…"

"Do what??" Mica countered, her piercing eyes blurry. "I was with Mike, he told us about Sub-C. How would we escape? Your ship is gone, sailing back towards Coralcola. And besides…Zoda was right. Ezilian…he was right too."

"Wha?" Giskard muttered, blinking. "How so?"

Mica bit her lip, a weak and defeated smile. "I couldn't outrun…my destiny."

She sunk into Dr. Jones' hug, at the same time distancing herself from everything. "I tried to outrun it. I tried to fight it. I couldn't. I fell in love with Mike…and everything happened just as the Starseer said it would."

"…The Prophecy?" Giskard asked unsurely. "But the Prophecy only said that the Starseer would return to save his people in their greatest hour of need…"

Princess Mica Argos, caught between the old world of Argonia and her new life on Earth, once again motioned a disagreement. "Giskard…You never knew this. But there was more beyond that…A part of the prophecy that the Starseer told to Sellarus, and instructed her to only pass down through the daughters of her line. Sellarus told her daughter…and my mother, Queen Tanelia Argos, told me."

Dr. Jones readjusted his glasses. "…What? What was the rest of the prophecy?"

Mica let out a weak laugh, a hollow wreck of herself. "Years will pass…My efforts and sacrifice will become legend, and the people will lose hope. You will not recognize me when I return, for I will not be born of your people. You will know me by the weapon I wield, and the courage in my heart. You, Sellarus…will be reborn as the daughter of your own line, and there, beyond what you know, we will find each other. We will find love. It will be a love adored by the stars…yet pitied. In the hour of darkness, at the hands of a new Devil from the stars, our love will bring death, and your candle will be extinguished once more…"

Mica waited a few more seconds, finally biting her lip again. "Twenty years I thought about what that meant. Twenty years I wondered inside of my stasis cube if the prophecy was real…if I was the reincarnation of Sellarus, if the Starseer really would return. But if he did…if we were saved…"

Slowly, her head sunk onto Dr. Jones' shoulder. "And then we were set free, and standing in front of us was Michael…with his Super Nova hanging at his side. Ellini. The Starseer. The others…they wondered, they puzzled, but I…I desperately hoped it was not true. I thought I could change it. I thought…if I didn't fall in love with him, if I could be cold and distant, if I could stop those few words from coming true…then I wouldn't die. That's what the Prophecy said. The Starseer would return. I would fall in love with him. And…then…I would die."

She let out another barking sob, curling up tighter to the middle aged archaeologist. "I couldn't stop it. I love Mike. I love him more than anything now. But I'm going to die. Zoda's going to take the power of the line of Sellarus, and I will die. I couldn't change fate."

Next to Mica and Dr. Jones, Giskard slumped on himself a little deeper, his insightful mind at last seeing all the pieces of Mica's concern and worry slipping into place. "By the stars…Mica, I didn't know. I just didn't know."

Back…Back at the library…I told you to act on your feelings. I didn't know…

Mica shook her head. "At least…You're here with me tonight. At least I can confess to someone. We can't change anything now. Nobody can. Tomorrow, I'll die…and everything will fall apart."

Giskard stumbled over next to her, pulling his overshirt off and draping it over her. "You're never alone."

Princess Mica curled in closer to the old doctor, who gently stroked her back as she cried herself to sleep. "I've…always been alone." She rebuked, crying.

In just a few minutes, her own grief and exhaustion pushed her into an uneasy slumber. The girl resting in the crook of his arm, the archaeologist looked over to his companion.

"She's lucky, you know." Dr. Jones murmured, stroking her hair away from her face.

Giskard Rorth ran a hand through his own mussed mane, collapsing onto his side feeling hungry and defeated. "How so?"

Steve Jones looked to the girl in his lap. "She won't be alive to watch me betray her father to this bastard."

As sleep overtook the Argonian boy, he had to admit the Doctor was right.

Losing Hirocon to this monster, after everything else, would drive the rest to thoughts of suicide. At least Mica would join the stars in death…

Instead of the void.

---

Coralcola Island

6:50 P.M.

Mike checked his watch again as he double checked the contents of his backpack.

A health potion that Bana had forgotten to give him at the outset of his last adventure.

Extra yo-yo string…provided Giskard, if he was still alive, still had the island yo-yo Mike had lent him. Preparing for that contingency lent some sense of optimism towards this mission.

Food and water rations. A few baseballs that didn't get thrown into the drink during his run-in with the second C-Serpent. A compass.

Beyond that, he had very little else for this journey. Save one last item, he reminded himself gently. Hefting the backpack over his arms, he walked out of his room, turning off the lights and giving it one last long glance. "Hope I see you again." He said quietly.

His Uncle's laboratory had what Mike considered to be a bigger than average amount of living space; but what space in the white futuristic building was taken up by bedrooms and the like paled to the demands of the structure's true purpose. An Electron Microscope was no small investment, and only the tremendous solar energy that was readily available in the islands of the Southern Cross kept it fed with power. It occupied a large chunk of the space in his uncle's laboratory, but that wasn't where Mike now wandered.

Slowly, he walked up to the large desk and workbench his uncle used. There was his Uncle's Apple II computer, the source for all his journal entries and records. It was currently shut down; his uncle was meticulous with that sort of thing. Next to it was what Mike was looking for.

The handle of the weapon lay across a plastic display rack, the gleaming silvery chain coiled up at one end in a pile. Atop the pile was the large, spiked mace head that hung on the end of the long whiplike flail.

There had always been a sort of power in it, Mike recalled. Gentle. Reassuring. It amplified his own courage, like a lucky charm would. At the time he had been running through the alien ship, he had thought it little more than his adrenaline gone wild; determination and steeled fury channeling his actions with the weapon. It hadn't always been like this, either. The Super Nova was born out of the strange energy that the red Argonian stasis cube had borne, and its original framework; the Shooting Star Morningstar mace given to him by the ruler of Shecola. Powerful, yes. But nothing more mystical to it than any other weapon he'd used in his travels.

Now, as he approached it again, he did so with a different perception. He had been awakened to the presence and nature of Shilivre…and though he could not use it effectively, could not control it as he had reminded Bana before she died, he could sense it.

The Super Nova glowed in a previously invisible light. As he stepped closer, it only glowed brighter, responding to his presence…to his touch. When he wrapped his hand around the grip, it seemed to burst with new life.

Gently, Mike lifted it up, staring at the powerful weapon in his hand. "I told myself…I'd never have to use you again." He began softly, listening to the metallic jingle of the links rubbing up against one another. "You were too dangerous. Too good at doing what you did."

The Super Nova hummed in his hand, sensing the call. "But I need you again. Princess Mica's been taken by Zoda…He's going to kill her, and then come for the others. I can't let that happen." He paused for a moment and nodded his head. "We…can't let that happen."

He walked into an open space in the middle of the laboratory, giving the powerful mace a test swing. As true as ever, it whistled eagerly in its course. Mike reined it back in, clucking his tongue. "Bana…She said I was the Starseer. I still have trouble believing that myself…I'm just Mike. I can't be anything else."

The Super Nova glowed back at him. "Besides…if I was the Starseer…then you would be Ellini, right? You vanished after the Starseer died, and now you return…An interesting bedtime story. But it's just that."

I don't know how to be the Starseer. I don't know how to be a savior. All I know is being Mike Jones; baseball, fishing, and a mild interest in history. I didn't come to Coralcola to get involved in any of this, it…it just happened…

But still, the Super Nova pulsed in his hand, and Mike remembered the vivid dreams he'd had in the last few days. He'd fought through his nightmares. After he and Mica had finally come clean, he'd stopped dreaming of that nightmarish trip through Zoda's spaceship. Correction…the shadow of Zoda. Nightmare Zoda.

This was the real deal. He had killed Bana. Broken the Argonian's strongest and proudest. Destroyed one planet, and probably countless more.

And he had Mica.

"I don't know if I am the Starseer." Mike mumbled to his weapon, his protest against the title weakening. "Right now, I don't really care. I need you…So fight with me. Help me beat Zoda one last time. Help me save her…And then you can finally sleep."

The Super Nova pulsed one final time, a wave of exuberant affirmation that echoed through Mike before the weapon went dim, keeping its silvery sheen, but no longer pulsing with energy that Mike knew had been Shilivre. The Shilivre imbibed by the Argonian boys from the red stasis cube weeks before…Or the Shilivre that was naturally attuned to Ellini…And to the Starseer.

"Starseer…Or Mike Jones."

Ellini…or just the Super Nova.

Titles didn't matter. It was a weapon capable of smashing through anything Zoda could throw at him. Together with the unnatural stamina he held, his newly awakened senses, and the courage that had been there all along…

"We're going to save the world." Mike chuckled, feeling like he was losing his mind as he said it. "Look at me. I'm Link. I'm Superman. I'm the greatest hero ever."

He tucked the Super Nova through a belt loop of his blue jeans, looking at it one last time.

"No." He finished dully. "I'm Mike. Just…Mike." He took one last look around the laboratory, then headed to the stairs leading to Sub-C's cavern dock.

He wasn't at all surprised to see Baboo there, frantically checking and double checking the recently docked submarine, making sure all the systems still worked. The native paused with a screwdriver in his mouth, halfway up the sub's ladder. He nodded at Mike and emerged completely, taking the screwdriver out of his teeth. "I…I heard that you were going after them."

"I am." Mike nodded. "The sooner, the better."

"Well, that's why I've been running over Sub-C with a fine toothed comb." Baboo replied easily. He looked over Mike's shoulder forlornly to the ruined equipment sitting in the cavern. "Though…fixing this stuff up is going to take me a while longer. Having rocks smash on radio gear is never good."

"How long do you think it would take you to get it up and running?" Mike asked him.

"About half a day." Baboo answered. "And we're talking a very bare bones fixup. But I'll have to worry about that when we get back."

"We?" Mike queried, lifting an eyebrow.

Baboo harrumphed at him. "You're not going alone."

The boy gave Baboo a look. "I appreciate the thought, Baboo…but it's a bad idea."

"He killed Bana." Baboo countered, anger rising up in him despite his best efforts. "You'll need somebody to watch your back; you can't do this alone."

"You're angry. You want revenge." Mike consoled him. "I would too. But I need you here. I need you to fix that radio equipment, so we can still talk to each other. You're no match for Zoda, Baboo. I'm the only person who stands even a shred of a chance."

Baboo lowered his head, and Mike jumped up onto the sub, resting his hand on the older boy's shoulder. "Please, Baboo. Just trust me."

Baboo held back his tears. "But if something goes wrong…"

"Then nobody else has to die." Mike reassured him. "I'll save them. I'll stop Zoda. But I can only do that…if I don't have to worry about you, or anyone else on this island."

Something clicked in the back of Mike's mind. "Baboo…They need you. The Argonians. If I fail…Zoda's going to come back for them. And they're all in bad shape. You know that. If that happens, you're going to have to protect them. You can't come with me. You're needed here."

Baboo mulled over it in his head, then slowly nodded in agreement. "You're right, Mike…You're always right." He stepped off of Sub-C, looking to his companion one last time. "I replaced the batteries before you came in. You should have a solid month's worth of sailing time, with proper recharges from the solar sail attachment…but for what you have planned, you'll have power to get you there and back. All the Sub's systems are in the green, and Nav-Com's as chipper as ever."

"In other words…"

"Hurry." Baboo echoed. "I might catch a nap on the way, if I were you…something tells me you'll need it."

"It's not that I don't trust Nav-Com's driving." Mike answered, slowly climbing down the hatch into his ride. "But I think…it would be best if I stayed awake."

Baboo waved at him. "I'll try and get the radio working in the meantime."

"Thank you."

"…And Mike?"

"Hmm?" The boy murmured, his head only inches above the hatch now.

Baboo nodded at him. "Be…be safe."

Mike pondered that for a moment, then smiled gently as the answer came to him.

Aah, Bana…Maybe some of you did rub off.

"Only the stars know for sure, Baboo." Mike responded easily.

He dropped down the hatch and closed it behind him, double checking the seal. "Nav-Com!" He barked out, his voice clear in Sub-C's open space.

Up in the cockpit, a tiny robotic head whirred about, clicking into focus on Mike. "User identified: Michael Jones. Welcome aboard. Please input request."

"Engage the engines." Mike ordered, moving up to the front and dropping his backpack next to the driver's seat. "Set a course for Howduyadocola."

"Course set." Nav-Com chirruped after a few moments. "Engaging dive mechanisms. Estimated time of arrival to Howduyadocola is…"

"Nav-Com, shut up." Mike exhaled. "When we reach the open sea, surface for sailing. It'll speed us up."

Around him, Sub-C came to life, its bells and whistles clicking and beeping as water rushed into the ballast tanks that allowed it to float or sink. It was a strange sound, Mike thought. At least he'd gotten used to it.

Fully aware of the weapon hanging at his side, the teenager realized how strangely fortunate he was in this situation, as drastic as it was.

He still had the Super Nova. He had Sub-C to get him there.

And this Zoda…the Real Zoda…Had no clue he was the one responsible for his counterpart's demise the last time.

He couldn't fall asleep. As many concussions and lapses into unconsciousness as he'd had, it was a more dangerous proposition to fall asleep than this quest to save Mica was.

Almost.

Mica.

He shut his eyes, clenching a fist as he held it against his chest.

Mica…I'm coming for you. I'm coming.

Just hold on. That's all I ask.

Again, he struggled for a moment with the concept of either being the Starseer, or just being himself. Again, he reminded himself that in the end, it didn't matter.

He loved Princess Mica. Through all the crazy things that had happened…he loved her.

And he couldn't lose her.

For love…he would fight again.

And that was the best reason of all to brave the storm.