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The cliff down the other side was short and easy to climb. At the bottom, Torn collapsed gratefully onto the soft grass, something he hadn't felt for a long time. Ashelin was standing up, surveying the terrain. "I don't think there's any Metal Heads around," she said finally. "We've been lucky so far, but let's not push it. We'd better get going. We'll be safe as soon as we get on the Precursor Mountain."

"Oh," Torn groaned. "I can't wait to get back to the city."

"Not big on out-of-city missions, I see," Ashelin commented dryly.

"It took you this long to figure that out?"

She decided this comment was not worthy of an answer. "Come on, we've got a long way to go."

"We do not," Torn protested wearily. "This is Haven Forest. It's only a mile wide."

"But I want to get to the city before dark. Unless you want to stay and be Metal meat." She started walking, leaving him no choice but to follow.

"Okay, okay," he muttered grudgingly, following her. "So, what exactly do you mean by saying that this forest was a clubhouse type thing for kids from Haven? Even before the security walls were put up, it was still illegal to leave."

She shrugged. "I never said it was legal, I just said we came here. Anyone with a driver's licencse could drive out here. Kids in Krimzon Guard Training got to drive at age twelve, so we just car-pooled out here with whoever couldn't drive. It's not that hard to leave the city even with the security walls. If you have a police cruiser, the sentry guards won't even question you."

"Oh. Guess I missed out on that particular adventure when I was a kid."

"It was mostly children of nobles that did it. Anyone else really would have a lot of trouble getting into any type of city section that had an exit, and there was no way they could get a Hellcat or anything. Plus if they got caught they'd get killed. But us, well, we learned bribery form our parents, and we could get ourselves out of most situations." She realized she'd said too much. She didn't want him knowing anything about her past, and now he knew a lot.

"You never said you were from a noble family," Torn said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Who are your parents?"

"My parents are dead," Ashelin said harshly. "My mother was in the Guard. She got shot down in a battle with the Metal Heads, and she died in the hospital. My father... well, my father's always been dead, as far back as I can remember." This was the truth; ever since her father had sent her mother to the front lines in that horrible battle, she had considered him dead. She stopped caring and started resisting him. Natasha had helped. That was why we were sent to the Wasteland with Wendel. We were to die out there, she thought. Because we knew he arranged our mother's death. Because she knew too much, and now we did too.

"What was that?" Torn said suddenly.

"I don't know, I didn't hear --"

The Metal Heads lunged at them out of nowhere, five huge, hulking creatures, fangs dripping with black blood, eyes dialated. Torn whipped out his gun and defended the two of them as best he could.

It took him six shots to fell one of the huge beasts. "This won't work," he muttered, looking towards his gun, knowing he was almost out of ammunition.

The other four beasts were attacking Ashelin, all at the same time. They seemed to know she wasn't as well-armed as Torn was. She was doing a good job of dodging their attacks and skirting out of the way just in time, but the shots form her two small guns barely seemed to scrath their plated armor.

An ill-timed jump on Ashelin's part led her right in front of a Metal Head, who took the opportunity to slash at her with its razor-sharp claws. It left three long gashed across the front of her exposed stomach. She groaned in pain and leapt out of the way just before the monster slammed its fist at the side of her head. Blood poured from her wound onto the grass below. "Ashelin! Run to the mountain!" Torn yelled.

"I... can't go that far," she called, doubling over as a piercing wave of agony overtook her. She fell to the ground.

In delight, the Metal Heads bounded in for the kill. "NOOOO!" Torn screamed, launching himself into their midst, feeling the rage at these monsters boil over within him. Abandoning his gun, he jumped into the circle of enemies and , flailing his fists wildly, and began to fight them all off.

From outside the pounding of his own heartbeat and the roar of the adrenaline rush, he dimly heard Ashelin calling him. He didn't answer, couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, and for a moment he was all arms and legs, wild kicks and punches and moves he hadn't known he could perform. At last the final Metal Head fell, and there Torn stood, among the bodies of his enemies, breathing heavily, until Ashelin got to her feet beside him and said, "Many more of them will come soon. I guess I was wrong about there not being any around. It's my fault. I should've listened harder, and heard them."

"Don't be sorry; there's no way you could have known. Now let's get to the mountain; it's only a little ways." This was true; there was nothing but a hill separating them from the entrance to the mountain.

Torn helped her walk as much as she would let him. It was important to her to do things herself, he realized, but it was imperative that she not lose any more blood. He didn't have anything to stop the blood with, and he couldn't let her die... She was embarrassed at being helped; embarrassed that she had made the mistake that led to her getting injured.

At last it was in sight; a small platform of glowing Precursor metal, just waitng for someone to get on it and go to the mountain and the waiting warp gate. They squeezed onto the one-person platform together. Ashelin wavered in place, threatening to topple off into the black void below. Torn grabbed her shoulders to keep her steady, and picked her up as she lost consciousness from blood loss. "You'll be okay," he whispered to her in a quavering voice. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince – Ashelin or himself.

Granger Harlem's duty was at an end for today. He was already angry that he was called out for street patrol in the Agricultural Section. He was high enough up in KG ranking that he should have been worth more than city patrols and stopping petty crimes. "It was a mistake in the records," he kept trying to convince himself. "This is a one-time thing; I'm not going down in ranks." But he had a sickening feeling that he was rapidly going down on the Baron's list.

He was glad he could go home now and sleep away his worry. He was tearing himself apart, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. He had been in the Guard for nearly fifteen years, since it first started, and he had rapidly advanced. The Baron had been considering making him the commander, but he always backed down and let Erol keep the job. Granger was high up and of noble birth, and for the last four or so years he had had good missions, missions that other Guards would kill for. This was his first patrol in... He didn't know how long.

He noticed with interest that the door leading to the Precursor Mountain was slowly opening. That's odd, he thought. Two figures emerged from outside the city walls, where no one was ever to go but the Krimzon Guards. Wait -- one of them was a Krimzon Guard. The Guard began waving frantically at him. Granger pulled up next to him and saw that he was carrying a young woman who was badly injured and bleeding a lot. "Yeah?" he said.

"This girl's badly hurt. You need to take her to a hospital. She's lost a lot of blood." Torn fervently hoped that the Guard would take pity and give them a ride to the hospital.

But the man shook his head. "It'd be against the law to let anyone but a Guard ride in a Hellcat. You can come, but not her." He turned his vehicle around.

"Wait!" Torn called. "She's... she's..." What was she that she needed to be saved? He couldn't think of any reason that would suffice in the Guard's mind.

"Tell him... tell him I'm the Baron's daughter," Ashelin said weakly, her eyes fluttering open and then slowly closed.

"Good idea," Torn whispered. "She's Praxis's daughter!"he yelled to the man's retreating form.

Slowly Granger turned around. "Yeah, right, and I'm the new Commander," he remarked sarcastically.

Torn gave the man his fiercest glare and snarled, "If she dies, the Baron'll kick your ass! Do you want to risk it? Because I can guarantee that she is expected there."

The man hesitated. "Well... all right," he muttered. "Put her in the back."

Gratefully Torn laid Ashelin in the backseat of the zoomer and sat next to her. Her eyes opened and closed wildly, then stayed open. They were dilated and unfocused. "Will you drive faster? She's dying back here!" Torn yelled to the man in the front, choking on his own words and barely managing to say them due to fear for Ashelin's life. He realized that for all the times he had treated her with disdain and acted like she was a burden, he had been falling in love with her nonetheless, and he wouldn't be able to bear it if she died now.

"There's no way I can go faster. This is an older model Hellcat and I've got it on maximum speed." The man's voice seemed far away.

Torn sent a silent prayer to the gods -- if there were gods -- to spare Ashelin's life. He breathed a sigh of relief as the vehicle pulled up in front of Haven's only hospital. "We're almost there," he said to Ashelin.

Torn couldn't stay and wait to see if Ashelin was going to be okay. He had been called to Guard HQ the moment he checked into the city. He knew that when you got summoned to HQ you went there immediately or you died.

The Krimzon Guard at the door told him that Commander Erol wished to speak to him. Torn gulped. Many people were sent before Erol, but it was seldom to be rewarded for anything.

The metal doors slid open and Torn entered the office. He bowed respectfully before the Commander. Erol scowled. "Were you not sent to the Wasteland to look for the Weapon of Mar?"

"Yes sir, I was."

"And did you bring back a woman you met in the desert and let her into the city?"

"I did, sir."

"Why?"

"Sir, she told me that she ws expected in Haven City, and that she had been a captive of the Bahzre and someone called Wendel. Then she requested I accompany her to the city, and I agreed because I had to travel there anyway. We were caught in a dust storm, and the main airlock door into the eastern sector was completely blocked by a sand dune. She knew the layout around the city well, and we got into the city by going through Haven Forest. In the forest we were attacked by a number of large Metal Heads. We weren't well-armed, and she was wounded. We escaped and one of my colleagues in the Guard took us to the hospital. She's in Haven Hospital now," Torn told the man, whose frown was growing deeper. "I don't know if she'll live, sir."

"She'll live," came a voice from behind them. "I've just been to see her." Torn turned around, and to his shock there stood Baron Praxis. Torn bowed as Praxis continued. "The doctors gave say she'll live, and she'll be just fine." He turned to Torn. "My daughter tells me that you saved her life."

Torn's heart skipped a beat. "Your... your daughter?"

"Yes, and she wants to speak to you. You may go now." The Baron indicated toward the door. It was apparent that he wanted to talk to Erol alone, so Torn slipped out the door as quickly as possible, pondering the new information. He had thought Ashelin was joking when she said she was the daughter of Baron Praxis!

"Where's the one who gave them a ride to the hospital?" the Baron roared to Erol.

"He just checked into HQ, Your Excellency," Erol said. "Would you like me to call him in?"

"Yes, do so. I want to have a word with him." A sinister grin twisted the Baron's face. He sank into the chair as Erol posted a comment on the loudspeaker summoning Granger Harlem to the main office.

There was a knock on the door several minutes later. Granger stepped in cautiously, wondering if he was to be punished for letting someone who was not a Krimzon Guard ride in a police cruiser. "Yes, my lord?" he said, bowing before the Baron.

The Baron stood up and drew himself up to his full height. "You idiot!" he shouted to Granger, who was now cowering in fear. "You took my daughter to the hospital because she was gravely wounded, when she was supposed to be DEAD!" With this he began kicking the man in the face repeatedly with his metal, spike-toed boot.

"Aaaaaggghhh! I didn't know that!" Grange screamed, desperately trying to block his face with his hands. There was brutal crunching of bones as his fingers broke one by one, and there was a hideous grating of cartilage when his nose broke. Blood poured from his face as blows from the Baron's fists pounded him into the metal floor. He received a sharp kick to his neck. Granger tried frantically to suck in some air through his crushed windpipe, but slowly he was suffocating. In agony, the man looked to Erol for help. With a smirk, Erol looked away from the unrecognizable face of the mutilated man.

At last the Baron ceased his attack and exited the room with a swish of his cloak. "My lord!" Errol called after him. "Should I call someone to come and get him?" He pointed to the man writhing on the floor, praying to die and end his pain.

"No. Just leave him there." Praxis walked away and never looked back.

Granger thrashed about on the floor one last time, choking on his own blood, and then lay still. With a last glance, Erol hurried out of the room.