A/n: thanks for all the great reviews. Reivyn has brought up a good point that I will address in this chapter. Oh, and Bitto, I will be bringing Alec in, I just don't know whether now or a little bit later. What would Seattle be without Alec?

Disclaimer: still don't own Dark Angel, only the original characters I create.

STILL THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

"What are maracas?" Nessie whispered to me as soon as there was a lull in the conversation around us. We were coloring –coloring! - and I had a strong suspicion it was only to keep us distracted long enough to give Mrs. Anderson a break.

"Maracas are a Mexican instrument made of wood, usually in a gourd or squash shape, hollowed out and filled with sand or beads to make a simple, child friendly noise maker. And boys use them as a term for women's breasts," I shrugged.

"Boys seem to refer to a lot of things in reference to women's breasts," Nessie mused, coloring neatly in the lines on her picture. It was so neat and dainty and utterly feminine I wanted to take a marker and scribble all over the precise strokes.

I don't know why I was so defensive and nasty at the moment, I was just so bored. Not even in school an hour and I was ready to kill something.

"Boys are just fascinated with female biology period," I agreed.

For the seventh time actively, I took in all the exits in the form of windows and doors and the placement of the ventilation system. The ceiling was some of those plaster tile things, easily removed and firm enough to crawl on top of should the need arise to journey into the jousts and beams above.

My eyes roved across my classmates, taking all the different shapes and sizes and just plain variety there were. I observed them, listening in on conversations, cataloging responses and instigations, and placing it all in a mental file for further analyzing. I came up with a game, trying to guess what their responses would be to certain scenarios, which would end up being the tough guys and who would be dependable in the end, at the same time casing the place.

There was a small group of kids in my class that my eyes just kept focusing on, and surreptitiously, I sniffed the air. Something was off about that bunch…I suspected I'd found some of my Seattle and cross-country brethren. There was a vaguely musky, animal scent tinged with that of human, creating a uniquely transgenic smell. Unless of course some of the kids played and rolled around with large predator cats, sharks, and hawks.

Some oblique recon paid off as I spotted them, two apparently as bored with school as I was. I caught one girl's eye and flicked a hand signal so fast only another transgenic could possibly even tell I'd made some movement, much less make out what I'd told her.

Her eyes widened just a tad, but she quickly fell back into a soldier mask, and I held back a grin. Oh yeah, she was definitely one of ours. She nudged her friend sitting by her and motioned toward me, using concise signals what I'd just done. He looked up at me and flicked his eyes to Nessie also. He nodded to me, raising his hand to signal.

Confirm, X-series status

I answered back: confirmed

"What are you doing, Max?" Nessie asked, having picked up on my movements.

"Keeping the line of communication open," I sassed back, grinning. I kept my voice low so we wouldn't be overheard by the Ordinaries, but I knew my kin would be able to hear just as well as I could hear what they were saying.

"We shouldn't be making contact with others not in our assigned detail unless instructed to by our handlers," Nessie fretted. I looked over at her and grinned.

"Come on, Nessie. Our objective is to engage in meeting new people to enhance our socialization skills: a large part of our socialization will be with other transgenics, and chances are, we'll be paired up with others from different facilities and this is just preparation. No harm in that. It's showing initiative and the trainers all like it when we do that."

"Sure they do," she sounded doubtful, and appropriately so. Gillette seemed to have gotten the worst pick of the litter when it came to the guards and trainers. But of chauvinistic morons with incompetence hardwired into their genetic coding.

But Nessie was so cute when she said that, it struck me as funny, and I couldn't seem to help smiling or the urge that made me want to do so many pranks. I was so bored and at least my fellow transgenics were a small distraction.

This is a complete waste of time

My new sister/cousin smirked back at me, holding a hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle. I smiled, and went back to my coloring. Somehow, I didn't get how making a bunch of eight year olds color in sheets filled with guys wearing funny striped hats and long legged pants tied in with learning about Labor Day or whatever holiday we were supposed to be taught, that the teacher hadn't gotten around to yet. Or maybe it was just first day was more an introduction, not the actual thing yet. Oh yippee.

"Do you think the Colonel will hang this up in his wall locker if I color inside the lines and create cammies instead of these stripes?" I kept my voice pitched low, going lower still.

Nessie about had a heart attack, she was coughing and spluttering so hard, I couldn't tell if she was supposed to be laughing or wailing.

"You okay?" I asked, unconcerned. She garbled something, but as she was still incoherent, I didn't pay that much attention.

"Oh, oh! Evanescence! Are you okay?"

Nessie was still coughing but she was nodding and making hand motions, which I read as okay, but Mrs. Anderson wasn't skilled in the art of Manticorian hand signals, and Nessie made the universal ok sign with her thumb and forefinger.

"Just peachy keen, Mrs. Anderson. Choked on some spit and one of Ma- uh, Kat's lame jokes."

I arched an eyebrow at that one, mouth twitching. I'd get her back; she just didn't know she was in trouble yet. Then again, looking at her lean imperceptibly away, maybe she did. Hmm…decisions, decisions.

This day could be looking up after all.

"Katarina…" Mrs. Anderson began, in a high pitched tone of voice some women use when talking to small, ignorant children, as a warning I suppose. Gag me with a pair of skivvies.

"Si, senora?"

"Please do not disturb the other children in such a dangerous manner. I know it seems funny when you're saying things, but Evanescence could have been seriously hurt. Be more mindful in the future."

"Disturb the other children? Dangerous?" my confusion wasn't faked like my accent, but I put a truly perplexed look on my face, in place of the skeptical one I wanted.

"What does this mean? I made a funny, and she laughed, I did not set out to injure her."

Like a little spit ever hurt anyone. As if it would take down a transgenic. Now that would be something embarrassing, to be brought down by a goober.

"Well, perhaps not, but Evanescence choked nonetheless and that is dangerous. So try and be more mindful, please?" The please sounded forced, and so did her smile, and imagining her running and writhing with terror of being hunted down appealed to me and made me smile.

"I will endeavor to not make funnies where others choke on their laughter in the future, senora."

"See that you do." Then she left to make more airy comments in that high-pitched whine of a voice again.

"I pity this generation under her tutelage," was my only comment, and Nessie went off laughing again.

"Watch your spit, Nessie, don't want you to engage in any dangerous activity."

This time, she didn't choke on her spit.

The rest of the day passed in a similar manner, sneaking signals with the other transgenics, and completing useless activities that weren't very challenging to a genetically engineered super soldier. I couldn't believe lunch took so long to get here and then nearly whimpered when I remembered that lunch meant the day was only a little more than halfway finished.

Being the stalwart commanding officer I suddenly found myself in the position of, I kept a calm face, even when Nessie scrunched hers in exasperation. Nessie was one of the most cheerful transgenics I ever met, and if she was tired of school already, then I wasn't blowing the situation out of proportion.

"Class its lunch time! Please put your supplies away, clean up the mess at your area, and then get in line so we can go to the cafeteria!"

"Yeah! It's time to go to the cafeteria!"

Nessie giggled as she rolled her eyes to me. I chuckled, cleaning up my area and trying not to wince as the noise level suddenly shot up in the room as the prospect of food made hyper children extra hyper.

The chaos that occurred in the next ten minutes was a wonder to me, who being raised in strict Manticore, was used to following orders immediately in a quick and timely manner under the threat of severe punishment. The fact that these children were out of control and the teacher had so little; it was sad and disgusted me.

"Class…class, please settle down! Class!"

"Do you think if she keeps asking them that we'll miss lunch?" one of the new transgenics asked as they slipped toward us.

"The possibilities of that occurring are exponentially increasing by the second as this anarchy continues," I mimicked one of my trainers, keeping a straight face, only my eyes giving it away.

It was enough to be recognized by my fellow transgenics. Nessie laughed because of my impersonating of our facilities head psychologist. The others laughed because it was funny; or maybe they had someone similar at their own facilities.

"I'm 245, but my alias is Neela," the female transgenic who'd I'd first spotted greeted me. "From Seattle."

Neela had dark Indian features, as in India Indian, a real Indian. Her hair and eyes complemented her deep, toffee colored skin. She was maybe half an inch shorter than me, which was amazing, as I was one of the shortest people I knew.

"I'm 452, Katarina is my alias on this mission. Or Kat, if you prefer. My unit mate Nessie, 678. We're both from Gillette, Wyoming."

"Hello," she nodded to the gathered transgenics. The class was still in chaos and we X-5's were the only children waiting patiently by the hatch – door in civilian speak.

Nessie didn't comment on the omittance of my true name, but I knew she was thinking about it. Telling your unit was one thing; letting another know a potential weakness and risk exposure was another entirely.

"Zero One Nine; alias Mara, Seattle," another female spoke up. She reminded me of Jace with her attitude and that reassured me somewhat. She was bleach blond to rival Petra, and her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown completely at odds with her coloring.

These newbies weren't so different after all, even if they didn't come from Wyoming.

"Scott, 010, from New York."

Scott had a wholesome, good old boy persona. His hair was that light brunette that only someone who was once a true blond could achieve. Blue-gray eyes peered out from dark lashes, and I swore if I looked at them from a certain angle, that I could see just a hint of purple. He was white, no doubt about that, but he was cute, in a WASP sort of way.

"Glen, 480, from good ole southern Georgia," the final transgenic grinned at us all, his deep Southern accent reminding somewhat of Amanda's.

He had deep chestnut hair, sparkling gray-green eyes, and a mischievous smirk that I'd come to know all too well from my brothers and Dante. It was heartening to know that not all transgenics had the life beat out them, it gave me hope, but it wasn't a feeling that I knew or understood why I felt that way.

No further conversation could be continued as the swirling mass of Ordinary children surged toward us like an tsunami: inevitable and not boding well.

"Single file class, please!" Mrs. Anderson shouted to be heard. Of course, no one listened to her and I glanced around to look at the assembled chaos and resisted the urge to shake my head. This was so whack.

Somehow we made our way to the cafeteria; I still don't know how, an almost complete disorderly mess to my Manticore trained eye was our class. We entered the enormous room and I nearly gaped. Good thing training was such a habit; I would have been gawking like some country girl in the big city for the first time. This place was enormous! And it was only a cafeteria. The sheer number of students or just plain people to be serviced was staggering.

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Nessie murmured, leaning back from in front of me, brushing her hand along mine.

"It's okay, Toto, we'll find our way home, eventually." I stroked her hand comfortingly. My stomach gave a growl and I shared a grin with Nessie.

"And to the supper table too," Scott quipped from behind me. I laughed.

"Yeah, that too."

"Hey, there's Dante!" Nessie fairly bounced at catching sight of another familiar face. Her fear of large crowds of Ordinaries could be a problem; better nip it in the bud now before the trainers make her miserable.

"Dante?" Glen asked, looking around, possibly for his own unit mates.

"He's from our facility and bunking with us," she explained softly. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, no."

"Oh, no, what?" I asked, trying to find Dante and figure out why Nessie suddenly looked even more apprehensive than normal. Hey, I could multitask.

"Oh, there's 494 and 510!" Neela fairly bubbled. I didn't hear the rest cause my heart froze at the first designation: 494.

Ben was 493. Did that mean 494 was his…brother? I knew we were cloned from the first DNA samples: that's why we were the fifth series of a specific DNA sequencing. X-5, get it?

What would a 494 look like? With a designation so close-only one number off- they'd have to be pretty close. Could he be twinned? Could we all be twinned, as like a back up, or something?

I cast my eyes about, looking for someone who looked like Ben, and I saw him all right, sitting by Dante and a few others. He looked exactly like Ben. Except for a few things: he was laughing and talking and joking around with those around him with an ease and level of casualness that Ben never did.

It was like a shock, like I'd been tossed in the Tank in the middle of winter, and held under with a steel chain. For one thing, this guy looked so familiar, and yet he wasn't. That concept was so foreign and mind-boggling I couldn't grasp it at first. Then he looked up, glanced over our way, and our eyes locked.

BAM!

It was like being smacked into the wall at ninety miles an hour, tossed into and sealed inside an iceberg, run over by a train, or crushed under a ten ton metal weight.

Every hair on my body stood at attention and I was just…aware of him. Totally, completely, and utterly aware of him. Everything about him. His scent rushed in to almost overpower me; I could feel his gaze boring into mine, hear the wild beating of my heart. I was taken in by the utter maleness and sheer presence; I think I forgot to breathe.

494, I thought with wonder. It was entirely primal and nothing I could really explain except that I was just…conscious of him.

"You're staring at my commanding officer, Kat."

I didn't hear Mara at first; I was still eye-locked with 494. I came back to myself only after feeling an insistent tug on my arm by a worried looking and wide-eyed Nessie.

"You okay?" she looked at me with concern.

"Yeah?" I was still a little distracted. My gaze kept sliding toward his as we made our way farther up the line. I was glad it wasn't just me; I noticed his gaze kept shifting to keep me in view as well.

"You find something you like?" Mara demanded sarcastically.

I merely glanced over at her, and something in my gaze made her cocky stance shift, and she crossed her arms, hugging herself.

"I was having a moment."

I glanced over at Nessie in front of me and gave her a reassuring smile. She didn't look convinced.

Neela gave a snort that could have been a laugh that was cut short as Mara glared at her unit mate. Scott and Glen weren't as obliged to heed the warning; they laughed outright. Apparently Mara's attitude wasn't unknown to them and having her put in her place was a funny thing.

Or it was; until I gave them a look, eyes narrowed. They shut up very quickly, trying to look all innocent and harmless.

Innocent my rear end; especially that Glen from Georgia.

We waited patiently in line and it was difficult not to look back and see him. I could practically feel a hot spot right between my shoulder blades. I shrugged and rotated my shoulders, popping my neck. I was okay, really. Seeing an exact look alike of my favorite and closest friends and unit mates was no big deal. Nor was the electricity in our gazes anything more than shock on my part.

Ri-ight.

I was relieved to see the portal to the food buffet, and I automatically grabbed for a tray and utensils. Apparently, Manticore and the school cafeteria shared the same thinking on how to feed a bulk amount of hungry people.

I smiled at the ladies, remembering all my pre-training and saying 'please' and 'thank-you' despite it grating on my nerves to say 'please' after hearing it all day in an annoyingly high squeak from a supposed authority figure who was anything but that. The food smelled marginally better than that served back home; I guess that was another thing school had in common with Manticore.

I had a tray full of soy cheeseburger, French fries, a cup of fruit, a dessert, and chocolate Yoo-hoo. Wes and Amanda had given us money this morning to put in our accounts so we won't have to bum lunch money off them everyday. The money was well funded, courtesy of Manticore, the best to be all that we could be.

"Do we have assigned sections to sit at?" Nessie asked with her own tray of food.

"I don't think so," I mused, seeing all the apparent groups merge when it was obvious they knew one another.

For the most part, the students were separated into their own classes, and even those were divided into obvious cliques. Not wanting to appear weak, I straightened my spine, and I tried not to literally march over to the empty seating I was aiming for.

I plopped my tray down and straddled the little plastic circle of a seat. Nessie took my right, and the other four spread out around and in front of us. We started to dig in and eat; one thing about us transgenics, no matter where we're from, our metabolisms work very fast so we get hungry fairly easy. There was several long minutes worth of silence as we all fell to the business of eating.

I felt a prickle along my spine a moment before Dante sank into the seat on my left. I grinned as he grimaced when Nessie smacked his hand away from touching her dessert cup of something called 'cheesecake'.

I growled at him when he focused his attention toward mine. I think it was more the growl than anything else that made him reconsider another attempt at the cheesecake.

"Never interrupt a hungry girl," I informed him, my voice still low with a steady growl threaded through.

"Especially when we have cheesecake," Nessie interjected, scraping the last remnants of her dessert.

"I'll agree to that," Scott sniggered, tearing into his own dessert.

Mara was watching me warily, and Neela had noted the interaction between Dante and us.

"Dante, this is Scott, Neela, Glen, and Mara. The girls are some of those water lilies you were talking about; Scott is from New York and Glen from Georgia."

"Water lilies?" Neela asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dante's code for coming from Seattle," Nessie grinned.

"Inside joke," I shrugged it off at the same time. I swapped amused looks with my mini-pack to the skeptical ones of the newbies.

"So…are you like, the C.O. for your unit, Kat?" Neela inquired, looking back and forth between us three.

I found I liked Neela a whole lot. She was smart and funny and kind and very observant.

"Max….Kat is our commanding officer for this mission," Dante answered, flashing the beautiful Indian girl a charismatic smile.

He was also leaning away from me as he realized he'd broken my alias. Hey, he was only in trouble with Wes and Amanda. I wouldn't compound the issue though I would be talking to him later.

"Why did you call her Max when her alias is Katarina?" Mara demanded in obvious hostility.

"Because it's my name," I answered, laying a hand lightly upon Dante's thigh as he bristled.

"Your name?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that, Zero One Nine?"

I left her alias out on purpose, and my voice could have froze molten lava, but I kept it calm. It was a very good imitation of Lydecker, if I do say so myself. Dante and Nessie stiffened in recognition so it must have been that accurate.

"Sometimes Mara can get a little aggressive," Neela hastened to say, trying to avoid a conflict that was brewing.

"Really?" Dante asked, giving a lascivious smile a waggle of his eyebrows. She blushed and I was fascinated at this new side I'd discovered in Dante. It was effective in taking my attention off putting Mara in her place.

"Chill, Romeo, her commanding officer was sitting right next to you and I don't feel like kicking his ass just because you got frisky with one of his girls," I joked softly but there was a hint of warning.

"Yeah right, as if you could kick his ass," Mara scoffed and Dante snarled at her.

"Who wants to take bets on that?"

I looked up and saw the subject of the conversation standing right behind Dante, a charming grin upon his face, his eyes boring into mine for the second time that day.

I made a show of looking him up and down, letting my gaze linger; it was redundant, as I'd just had a shower not even five days ago with a similar body wearing a matching face, but that wasn't the point.

I felt a smile start to form and I let that amusement show in my expression, but leaving my eyes slightly reserved.

"Do you?" I arched an eyebrow, challenging.

What are you doing Max? He's a freaking C.O.! A real one, not just a temp like you, and he looks like Ben! Ben who routinely kicks your ass sparing!

I ignored the voices of reason in my head; instead I listened to that feral half, deep down in my gut, which was drowning out all protests, the one that told me to stand up and not back down, to prove myself worthy.

Worthy of what, for what, for whom?

I ignored this voice as well. Today just wasn't a day for listening to the voices in my head.

"Nah," he shrugged it off with a careless twitch of his shoulders, an easy smile playing across his lips.

His hazel eyes were a startling mix of green and gray dominantly, mixed with blue and brown, and just a hint of gold in their depths; the more I looked the more the green and gold seemed to jump out and threaten to pull me in.

Damn, I feel like I'm in Psy-ops.

"I'm not into child abuse," he added with a wide grin to show perfect gleaming teeth.

He just had to add that and, Bam! Challenge accepted and counterstrike launched.

"I can understand that as you would be the one getting abused," I smiled back, more a baring of teeth than a true grin.

Oh…direct hit!

His eyes flickered with emotion; was that interest and amusement lurking there? I just didn't know enough to profile his moods and I knew, just knew, it would be a mistake to base assumptions off what I knew about his twin.

"Would I?" his voice rumbled, in a purring tone that was more at home on a hunting panther, than a ten year old boy.

If he cultivated that voice, when he was older and body matured, that voice would get him very far with a lot of women in a way he probably shouldn't. It was a pleasant voice.

Where those thoughts came from, I don't know. But I decided to keep to the task at hand. Chiefly, not letting my proverbial ass be handed to me by a look alike.

"Wouldn't you?"

"I asked you first."

A very strong, charismatic, commanding officer look-alike.

"And I answered."

"With another question."

"Most answers are."

He surprised me by laughing aloud.

"You're not that bad…494's the designation, but my assigned alias is Richard."

"Ah, so you're a Dick," I laughed at him, eyes twinkling.

"Oh that was really funny. So funny, I forgot to laugh," 'Richard' said with the slightest of grins. He was enjoying this banter as much as I it seemed.

He carelessly lounged in the hard, little plastic seat, one elbow leaning casually on the table top, the epitome of relaxed and poised.

I noticed that Neela and Mara seemed to take strength and comfort in his presence in a way that they hadn't previously. Just like I did when Zack was around.

Thoughts of Zack sent a pang of homesickness and longing right through me, and such thoughts were dangerous. So I went on the offensive to get rid of those nagging and uncomfortable emotions.

"Richard doesn't suit you, you're too much of a smart-aleck for something so refined. I think I'll call you Alec."

"Alec…I like it. So does that mean I can call you Maxie?"

So he had been listening in on the previous conversation. Which wasn't that hard considering he was transgenic and had been sitting only two tables down.

"Hell no. Only one person I know can, in my unit back home. His name is Ben…designation 493."

"Really? We must have been twinned."

Suddenly he smirked and I felt a prickle of foreboding for his next words.

"Then you've 'seen' me naked. I feel so violated, and I don't even have your twin for comparison."

His face was a comical mask of fake hurt, regret, and sadness, as if I'd wounded him in some dastardly way.

Dastardly way?

"Actually no. I've seen your face, but from what I can tell that's covered by your clothes…" I let the sentence hang, gazing at his body again, giving a soft sigh and shake of my head.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," I shrugged it off, giving a cherubic smile, and starting in on my cheesecake as I'd finished the rest of my lunch.

Oh…my…Blue Lady.

Cheesecake has definitely become one of my favorite food groups now. I practically purred in delight and licked my lips to capture as much as I could salvage, forgetting for a moment the current goings on, as I was enthralled in the amazing tang of pure cream cheese goodness.

"So what's yours?"

"My what?" my head was still involved in the wonderful new sensation and flavor that was cheesecake.

"Name and designation, silly," Dante nudged me.

His eyes were sparkling too, and I knew he'd help me with whatever mischief I'd think up. He was also laughing at my lapse of attention.

"Ah yes, those. Max, alias Katarina, designation 452. Anything else you need to know?"

"Age, weight, location," he joked.

"What's the matter, you planning on proposing or what? What's with all the twenty questions, you taking a survey?" I kept my face as deadpan as possible, but I don't think I fooled him one bit.

"No…just keeping my options open. You look too young for my tastes anyway, too skinny, and apparently too far away…you know what they say about dating local girls," he winked.

"Yeah, stay away from them, they might be related."

He gave an incredulous laugh at my rejoinder, and the lunch bell rang, signifying the end of the lunch period.

"Gotta blaze, see you later," I stood up, ready to take my tray to the disposal unit, and rejoin my class.

"Sure thing…. Maxie," and 'Richard', aka Dick, aka Alec, headed off toward his class, Dante tagging along after giving me a look and Neela a quick grin.

"Max, I can't believe you said all that!" Nessie wondered, awe and a little incredulousness tingeing her voice.

"Kat is my name," I reminded her aloud, feeling a little guilty at having broken the 'use only your alias at school Max' rule on the very first day of school.

Well, it wasn't my fault, Dante screwed it first, but that didn't matter. I was CO and everything was my fault. Hazards of the position.

"Besides…he seemed to enjoy it. No harm, no foul."

"I can't believe you said all that!" Neela squeaked softly but loud enough all us gathered transgenics could hear.

"That was X5-494! My C.O.! The best of the best!"

"Really?"

Best of the best huh? Hmm…I believe it. After all, isn't Ben part of the best as well?

"Really," Mara drawled the word snidely, giving an exaggerated nod and roll of her eyes.

I whirled around quickly, the others dodging instinctively out of my way, so I was standing and invading the hell out of her personal space.

"Do you have a problem with me, Mara, or is it just a defect in your sequencing? If so, let's get it all out in the open because I will not put up with this all year."

"How dare you-!"

"No, how dare you! You think that just because you have this attitude that you can just bully other peoples around? I have news for you sweetheart; you aren't going to bully me, aight? 494 or not, I will open up a can of whoop ass on your lazy tranny sista hide if you so much as give a peep of sarcasm, do I make myself clear? I am a master of sarcasm, so I know what it is when I come across it. Clear?"

Mara looked about ready to explode, but after a not so gentle nudge in the ribs from Neela, she gave a grudging 'yes' muttered under her breath.

"That goes for the rest of you, but somehow, I get the feeling y'all won't be the problem."

No, the problem it seems will be going to the same school that the clone/twin of Ben is attending.

Oh, Blue Lady, help.