3 – "You carry this illusion that they cannot die and that they feel no pain. I will prove to you once and for all that is just one of the dirty lies they have infected you people with."

Renee's with me here now. We're in the infirmary waiting to hear something—anything. I've been here for hours. I would have stayed from the moment she was brought here, but…my hand…

I spoke to her for a few moments. I told her how sorry I was about all of this. She mumbled something to me. She said the motive should be honored, not the result. Ta'lay said she's just delusional from the episode. I'm not so sure, but I cannot deny that her sanity is fading. Link's in there now, but she barely acknowledged him when he first came. Hopefully they'll be able to take her back to the lair soon. Link wants to take her home, but every time he mentions "home" to her she screams like a banshee begging him to stay away from her. Yet he still remains by her side. He's a stronger man than I'll ever be.

Renee wanted to stay with me, but she had to leave. After all, she still has a day job, and of course there are the funerals to attend. Malley and T'than's are in two days. But now Renee's here, and she hasn't said anything since she sat down. It feels like we're both holding our breath.

I just can't figure out why this ended the way it did. It's not fair to me, and it's not fair to her. She loved him so much.

"I can't believe it," I finally say to break the silence.

"I told you. There wasn't anything you could've done," Renee said taking my bandaged hand.

My tension softens. It always does when she takes my hand. Her hands are soft and smooth. From her thin wrists to her clear-painted nails, they're smooth. She always makes my worst days better. She's my only peace in this crazed world.

"Funeral arrangements have been made for Malley and T'than," Renee says.

"I know." My voice is a little annoyed. How could I not know?

"Are you going?"

"Only because I liked Malley. What about Mi'en?"

"I don't know what Mi'en believes anymore. I don't think she does either. She cried when she woke up, and then she lied and said it wasn't because of that."

"This knocks our list of enemies down a notch."

"At what cost?"

"We don't know yet."

I feel like crying right now, but I refuse to let it out. For me, the losses are still too near. In the few years I've lived on this planet, I've never felt so powerless. I've never wanted a parent near me so badly.

My thoughts drift to my mother's last words to me. She said she was shining a star for me somewhere. I rise and walk to find a window. Renee follows me. I can see concern in her eyes. She doesn't know what to think or how to feel. She doesn't know if she should be overjoyed or devastated. After all, despite how much we would like to think we hated them—Sandoval, the Synod, the Taelons in general—we don't. We can't. I think Da'an understands more than anyone, but Renee wants to understand. She wants to feel what I'm feeling so that she can ease my pain. She can't, and I don't want her to. I wouldn't wish this upon someone like her. She's already lost enough friends and family in her life. She doesn't need my losses adding to her burden.

She does understand what it's like to lose a parent, though. That's one burden we both share. I guess that's why she desires to be so close to me. She knows from experience how badly a friend is needed in times like this—just some small shoulder to cry on. I contemplate all this as I walk slowly. I decide that it makes me angry.

I finally found a window. I stop and search. Renee latches on to my arm.

"Why won't it stop hurting?" she asks me in a voice so toneless I barely recognize it. "It shouldn't have happened this way. Nobody deserves this."

I can't respond. I'm too busy searching for that star to put me back on the right path.

I can't find it.


Liam, Elaine, and Malley met Sandoval at the crime scene. The remnants of Nee'lan's energy outline could only be seen via ultraviolet light. Sandoval and a group of FBI agents were setting up the light as well as taking samples of the crime scene.

"So how did you get to be a profiler?" Malley asked Elaine casually on their way to the crime scene.

Elaine said nothing.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Malley teased.

Elaine stopped and glared at him.

"Kidding, kidding," Malley said putting his hands up innocently.

"You get your sense of humor from your mother, and your disease," Elaine said simply, and she walked on.

Malley and Liam stood and stared at each other for a few moments in awkward silence.

"I…guess she really is a profiler," Malley said astonished that anybody knew that about him.

"She's not always like this," Liam said. "I don't know what it is about her, but she's been acting strange for the last few weeks. It's almost like she's a whole different person."

"Oh, does the major have a thing for this Elaine?" Malley asked nudging his shoulder.

"No! Dear God!" Liam exclaimed in total disgust that anyone would believe he cared for Elaine that way. "I told you who I want. She's just—she's like family to me. I've known her for years."

"Sure thing, Liam," Malley said unconvinced.

"I'm serious! There's nothing between us!" Liam cried.

"All right, I believe you," Malley said with a smirk. He walked on before Liam could respond.

Liam just shook his head in frustration and followed. When he caught up with Elaine and Malley, he found Elaine already observing the outline of Nee'lan's body where the ultraviolet light shone, not that she needed it.

"Ronald Sandoval, Miss…"

Elaine stared passively at the energy outline for a few seconds as if she had not noticed, but before Sandoval could try again she faced him and said, "Kingsley…Elaine Kingsley."

"Huh. Nice to meet you," Sandoval said slowly, shaking her hand. "Are you with the major?"

"I am with the FBI. I am a profiler."

"Really?" Sandoval said tonelessly. "I've worked with the FBI since before the companion arrival, and not once have I seen you."

"Maybe you have. You just don't remember."

Sandoval scoffed silently. He knew who she was, and she knew it too. The only debate he had now was whether or not to call her out or let her continue her pathetic charade and deal with her later. That was when he noticed Liam staring at him. He decided to hold off. He needed to get her alone with him.

"What do you make of this outline?" Sandoval asked professionally to keep Liam off his back.

"Why are there no Taelons assisting in this investigation?" Elaine asked totally ignoring his question.

"Zo'or asked for them not to assist," Sandoval said. "Besides, it is not unusual for this. Most of the companions do not specialize in crime investigation. There has been so little Taelon crime there is no need for it. Even if there was, the Commonality is most likely aware of the culprit."

"So it would seem," Elaine said tonelessly. "Your companion was left to die, but he only bled for five minutes. Whatever blade was used cut him deep and caused him to bleed quickly."

"True," Sandoval said. "Still, it is a horrible way to die."

"Indeed."

"What else?" Sandoval asked, now in the mood to test her.

"This blade in question is powerful," Elaine said. "There are few energy weapons that could do this kind of damage, blade or otherwise. Your murder weapon has been specially altered with a device that either weakens the companion or makes the blade finer and stronger."

"Or it could be a combination of both," Sandoval suggested.

"Yes…most likely. Your culprit works with the companions. Only a volunteer or a protector would have the knowledge to create such a weapon," Elaine said, "but then, you already figured all of this out."

"I have, so what else can you give me?"

This game between her and Sandoval began to bore her. "I will let you know," she said simply and left to speak with Liam.

Sandoval glared at her as she walked. She had changed somehow. That made him uncomfortable, a feeling he despised displaying around her.

Liam walked with Elaine into a separate empty room.

"This is a mistake," Elaine said harshly.

"I know it is, but Hubble insisted," Liam said. "You know. You were there."

"Hubble is a fool," Elaine said bitterly.

"Forget about Hubble," Liam said. "I'm worried about you. What's been with you lately? You've been acting strange ever since you came out of Ma'el's gateway."

"I have not been sleeping well."

"You had another argument with Link, didn't you?"

"I am staying in the lair. I need isolation now. I should not be here!"

"Isolation for what purpose?"

"They come to me when I am awake now. At first, they would only come at night when I slumbered. Now they come to me at random. I cannot control them. It frightens Rembrandt and it hurts Ariel's feelings."

"What do you see in your visions?"

"I can read the minds of others. Their voices are so loud now. I cannot make them stop. All day and night I hear the unending chatter of people's most intimate thoughts. It absolutely will not stop. It's driving me insane!"

"Hey, calm down," Liam said taking her into his arms.

"I cannot stop it," she panted. "I fear that Ma'el's gifts will start to interfere with my own. I must learn to control these visions before I hurt someone. I am a danger to you and these people. I want away from this place."

"I know how you feel—"

"You know nothing!" Elaine whispered bitterly.

"What can I do to help you?" Liam asked.

"Turn around," Elaine said quickly.

These words confused him, but Liam complied. What confused him even more was what he saw after he turned. As if on cue, Malley walked into the room.

"There's nothing more we can do here," he told them. "Let's get back to the embassy and plan the next move from there."

"Sounds good," Liam said, gazing upon Elaine. She had not turned to acknowledge Malley. He knew that as the days carried on, he would only worry about her much more. What was happening to his companion?


When they were finished with the crime scene, Sandoval returned to Zo'or, who had requested his presence after he had reported the basics of the crime scene over his communicator. Thinking about Da'an always seemed to remind him of the past—bitter memories, lost loves, foolish decisions, faces without names.

Upon facing his death to a blood disorder, a face in the shadows had come from nowhere and given his own blood to save the dying agent. No one saw him, not even Dr. Curzon. The blood had saved Sandoval's life. His child. A child. It was a boy, Dr. Curzon had said. This must have meant that some time before Deedee's death, she had gotten pregnant. But why had she never told him? He had searched his memories using his CVI to try and ascertain when Deedee could have possibly been pregnant and had left him long enough to have the baby without him. He thought perhaps during the SI War. He had been overseas once or twice then, and the war had lasted about a year. Maybe it happened just before the war started. But then, the boy would only be about five or six, not the most ideal age for donating so much blood. Before the war, he and Deedee had dated for a few years. Perhaps she got pregnant then and gave the child up for adoption because they were not yet married. But why? She had loved him so much. Of course she would tell him even if they had not married. Such an event only would have made him marry her earlier. No. Deedee could not be the mother, so now thoughts passed to other women he had known.

This was the process that had frustrated him for months. It would begin with a passing thought about a friend, a family member, or a co-worker, and then it would turn to Deedee, and then this. He would keep playing it over and over in his head. He simulated situation after situation, but the details never added up. There was no way Deedee mothered his child, but he kept replaying their whole relationship in his mind. He wanted it to be her. He needed it to be her! He needed it to be her because without Deedee, he would always end up with…Beckett! Siobhan Beckett. She had told him they were meant to come together, but a child? Impossible! He was more likely to have conceived with Deedee than with her! Yet that face still remained imbedded in his most subconscious memories. His deepest, most primitive sexual desires. It sickened him, but his instinct always drove him away from Deedee, steering him toward…her!

"You have something to report, Agent Sandoval?"

The toneless voice of Zo'or was for once welcome to him. He was glad that bastard had broken his concentration.

"Yes, T'than has enlisted the help of a profiler named Elaine Kingsley," Sandoval explained, "to assist with the investigation. I tested her abilities, she is quite talented."

"Why have I never heard of this woman?" Zo'or asked tonelessly.

"Major Kincaid knows her," Sandoval said. "Apparently they worked closely together on the Reyes case. Hubble Urick recommended her. She was one of the top in her class at Quantico, and Da'an personally asked her to work with the companions before you were even declared the new Synod leader."

"Major Kincaid is a resistance double agent," Zo'or said slowly. "Not that he will ever make anything of it. He had the perfect opportunity to leave me dead, and he passed it up to save me. He has not the strength to kill me. Harmless, witless coward."

"I am aware of the reasons you keep Major Kincaid on board," Sandoval said dismissively. "I am guessing from that statement that you believe this Elaine Kingsley is a resistance double agent as well."

"I will do you one better," Zo'or said with a wry smile. "It is her."

Sandoval fell silent, but Zo'or waited for him to gain the ability to speak again. "How did you know that? You did not even see her face."

"A resistance double agent brings a woman with him who seems to have come from nowhere. Then, you told me about the incident in the Andes and that Da'an is now a female. It is her, Agent Sandoval. Who else could it be? Why would she do this, though? What madness would compel her to return here of all places?"

"She is not herself. I could tell by the sound of her voice," Sandoval said, noting to himself the same monotonous tone coming from Zo'or.

"Enough of this!" Zo'or whispered. "You know what to do with all this. I need not tell you what you already know. I have…another reason for summoning you."

"Such as?"

"I was thinking about your arrangement yesterday. You suggested unburdening myself. I am ready to do so now, but…I wish to know about you first."

Sandoval was flabbergasted. In the four years he had worked with Zo'or, not once had the Taelon even expressed the mildest interest in his personal affairs. The entire aspect of Zo'or acting as a true companion unnerved Sandoval and even frightened him to an extent. Maybe Zo'or had his own set of issues that had been plaguing him for months, years even. This was their chance to get years' worth of tension off their chests to the only one they deemed worthy enough to receive.

"What do you want to know?" Sandoval asked slowly.

"Everything."

Sandoval made a wry grin. "I…am sorry Zo'or, but I will not do it. I need to hear you first."

"Why?" Zo'or whispered, glaring at him.

"Because I need to know you are worth unburdening to."

"What more proof do you need than—"

"Please, Zo'or. I need to hear you first."

Zo'or blushed in a hybrid emotion of embarrassment and frustration. "Fine then. Ask me anything."

Sandoval hesitated. A part of him was afraid to get inside Zo'or's head. Who was he kidding? The whole of his makeup was absolutely aghast at the idea! It was like listening to the thoughts of a monster. However, he was a monster in his own way, and he had been listening to his own perverted thoughts since the day his mind first composed a thought. In this despicable pool, he decided to dive. "Everything."

"Start with something basic," Zo'or said quickly, breaking from the awkward silence. "I am not quite ready to confess everything at once."

"Neither am I," Sandoval said, abhorring the idea that he had just decided to become Zo'or's personal therapist.

Sandoval had been tampering with an idea for a long time, an idea that would explain a lot about Zo'or and why he despised himself so much. "Who were your parents?"

Zo'or turned sharply. "You sneaky little bastard," he said with a sly undertone. "I should have known."

"What could be more basic than that, Zo'or? Everyone had a mother and a father at a time. I'd like to think the same principle applies towards a Taelon."

"Then…" Zo'or rose and walked to the virtual glass window. For what purpose, Sandoval did not know. "…I will say that you know both of my parents quite well. You worked closely with them both, one more so than the other, but still…"

"I see. But I was under the assumption that Taelons are asexual."

"How slowly we catch on. I was born at a time when Taelons had two genders. We were heterosexual just like you. I was the last Taelon born this way that is still alive, which is why some believe I am the last true Taelon. It is a title I have reluctantly accepted."

"Then, the Taelons younger than you were conceived of asexual reproduction."

"Indeed. However, the generations before me have had problems with reproducing, and the generations after me have lost all desire to procreate. That is why we are dying. There are too many of us dying, and too few taking our place. Overtime, this trend of sterility will lead to extinction."

"Have you any children?"

"One question at a time, curious little man," Zo'or said slowly and monotonously. "After all too much curiosity can have damaging effects."

"Then, I await my answer."

"Your answer," Zo'or chuckled slyly, "as if I am giving it to you. You choose words wisely."

"I must, especially around you."

"I come from two strong families—one of strong genes and one of strong ancestry. However, the family of my secondary parent is not to be taken lightly. Leadership runs strong there as well. She is my mother now. She is an abomination, but she is my mother."

"Da'an! Da'an's your mother! I knew it!"

"You have unique insight."

"More like I know you all too well."

"I abhor love. It is my weakness. I never had the strength to get rid of her myself. I needed others to do it, others like you, but she prevailed."

Sandoval nodded. He had witnessed her sleekness firsthand.

"It became her weakness as well. It is what kept her alive through such a terrible experience." Suddenly Zo'or blushed and grew distant. "She should have killed herself. She should have been driven mad. Her dying in front of me would have been better. Anything would have been better!"

"Than what?"

Zo'or snickered in a tone that made Sandoval shiver. "Fool."

"I want to know. Everything."

Zo'or sealed all the entrances and even cut the pilots' view of the bridge. They could not hear him, he knew, but still…the idea of foreign eyes watching them at such a time. What a gift it would be to be free of the Commonality right now! …Abomination…

"It was a war of words when I was a child. That's all it was. For thousands of years, we had been out of contact. It all started when our empires finally collided. Isolated incidents occurred, and people would die occasionally. They would always threaten war, but neither side had the spine to make due on their threats. Then, the massacre happened. Our capitol was bombed. That was how Ka'li died, my great-grandparent. Then, the terrorists used the incident to hack into our portal system and invade. They came like cockroaches. Nothing we did could stop them. They just went from building to building killing or capturing anyone they saw. The diplomats were being evacuated. Quo'on and Da'an were in separate areas. I was with Quo'on watching him conduct some diplomatic business when it happened. He grabbed me and we ran to the nearest transport we could find. However, a squad of Jaridian terrorists stopped us. He hid me before they could see me, but the delay got him captured. They beat him trying to ascertain where he had hidden me. Then, he saw me. That was the first time I ever looked into a pair of their eyes. Some are dark blue, much like the blue plaguing the cleansed. Some are green. Others, however, are the color of fire. These fiery eyes mesmerized me. I could not help but stare. Before he could grab me, however, he died. To this day, I do not know how. The others fled in fear, and then I heard Quo'on scream the name of my other parent. He knew the one who had done this. That was when he grabbed me, appearing from nowhere like a phantom, to confront Quo'on. Quo'on made me swear never to tell. I have kept that promise, until now."

"She was a telekinetic. Wasn't she?" Sandoval asked him.

"I suppose that is what he was," Zo'or said. "I asked him one time. Only once, I asked him, and he said he had no idea what I was talking about."

Sandoval walked to stand beside Zo'or in front of the window. "I've seen her do it. She did it to me once."

"In Ma'el's labyrinth."

"No…no, earlier, but that was the only time, until she freed herself."

"The priests probably suppressed it. It was the first time he ever frightened me. From there, we continued to run. There was only one transport left, and we were so close—so close that I could hear the engines roaring. Then, more Jaridians appeared. They came to avenge the death of their comrade. Quo'on freed himself of their grip, but he and I did not. He tried to pry me free. He did not even attempt to save himself. All he wanted was for me to get away. I probably would have too if Quo'on had not left me to board the transport. If he had even made the slightest effort to help me, I would never had to have borne witness to it. That pathetic, spineless swine! He was a coward! He always was. He was until the day he died. He sickened me! He could have saved me if he had just made the transport wait a little longer. Instead he left without us. As Da'an tried to free me, he was knocked unconscious. Then, they did it to me."

"What did they do to you?"

"Me? Absolutely nothing, which is a worse fate then I would have suffered had they done something to me."

"What did they do to her?"

Zo'or snickered again, which now made Sandoval curious as to why he would be laughing at something he found so horrible.

"Are you familiar with the concept of psychological torture?"

"…I am…I was…taught to use these interrogation methods in the SI War. The war ended before the torture did. The war always ends before the torture."

"They interrogated him for information of where the diplomats would flee. They knew he would never crack, and when they discovered physically torturing a Taelon is a mute concept, they resulted to use psychological torture. They used me like a pawn to drive him mad. It started off as little things. They would convince him that they would let him see me, and change their minds at the last minute. Sometimes, they just locked him in a room with no sustenance, the speakers blaring with strange sounds to prevent him from resting. Still, he did not falter. All he did was think of me and pray. They would irritate him with little annoyances throughout the day. They kept telling him the irritation would stop if he just told them what they needed to know. When he did not comply, they would lock him in a room, tie him to a chair, and make him watch strange things on a screen. Sometimes, they would connect him to a machine that produced strange uncomfortable sensations—annoying little shocks, the constant endless dripping of cold water, things that made him itch and tickle. Then to close the day, they would bring me to the window, but they would never let him see me. When he still did not crack, they resulted in drugging him. The drugs bombarded his mind with bizarre hallucinations, contrasted with peaceful images of people close to him. The more he fought, the worse the hallucinations became, and I had to watch as he lost all concept of reality. One time he attacked me, thinking I was one of 'them' he said."

"H-How did she recover?" Sandoval breathed.

"How the devil should I know?" Zo'or asked tonelessly. "Our soldiers eventually rescued us, after many days. Then, the healers isolated him from me for twenty-six days. When he returned, he was completely normal. He was the Taelon I recalled him to be. Then for some reason…he avoided me. He had gone through so much to protect me. In the torture facility, he would have given anything for just one look at me. Then, after endless days of being apart from me…he avoids me like a plague. We were barely parent and child anymore. We were not even acquaintances. I…I never understood why this happened, but I hated him for it. I never forgave his neglect. Now, however, I believe that I finally understand. You see, Agent Sandoval, I frightened Da'an to an extent. His emotions had made him vulnerable to the Jaridians. They had made him weak. I made him weak."

"How did you come to this…understanding?"

"Because upon discovering the true source of his weakness, I discovered the true source of mine. Da'an makes me weak, Agent Sandoval. I lack the courage to do away with that wretch of a parent. I knew my only path to true glory and dominion was through his death, yet I lack the courage to kill him myself. He was my only rival, the only one worthy enough to depose me. That is why I hate him. I hate him for making me weak."

There was another moment of silence as Sandoval absorbed all the knowledge. The whole time, Zo'or stood erect like a statue. He had been acting like this for quite some time. He had ever since he convinced Sandoval to make this pact with him. All of his options had finally been used up, and with those options went what little feeling he originally had. Now, all that was left inside was cold rage. It was only a matter of time before the rage was unleashed, but he would never take it out on Sandoval. They both knew this.

"So…is there anything you would like to remove from your chest?" Zo'or asked. "Anything to unburden?"

Sandoval hesitated. How could he hesitate? Zo'or had held his end of the bargain, so why was he holding back? What had he to hide? "I have a son."

Zo'or's eyes focused on Sandoval more firmly. His hands balled into two stiff fists. He found the contrast of his physical firmness and his sardonic thoughts of Sandoval seducing innocent young women humorous. However, that was not the reason why his hands were in two fists.

"You recall my near death from disease."

"You never quite told me what that was."

"It was a rare genetic blood disorder that could only be cured from a transfusion from the blood of a first degree relative, a parent or a child. Well, my parents are dead. I watched them both on their deathbeds myself. Therefore, I have a son, and I have no clue who the mother is."

"Greed, wrath, envy—pride most of all—all these I could see. But lust? I had no idea."

"He saved my life, and I can't even put a face on him."

"Give me something more. That is not what plagues you."

"There are gaps in my memory that I can feel. They involve the late Agent Beckett."

"Surely she is not the mother. The boy would be much too young."

"That is what scares me. I think something happened to me involving Ha'gel, something between Siobhan and me. She died before she could tell me."

Zo'or's fist slammed against the window.

"Zo'or! Are you all right?" Sandoval asked urgently.

"Why should even the lowliest of humans be allowed to give life but not me!" Zo'or growled. The sudden outburst appeared to pain him. Sandoval watched without fear but with a shred of concern when Zo'or's eyes started shifting from blue to red. "It's not fair! When so many humans breed at whim—some even by pure accident—yet I cannot even produce fruitful genes to pass on. I had an empire! I have a legacy! Yet…there will be no one to continue my success. A pox on that wench! She cursed me in so many ways! This is all her fault! These are all her sins, and I am the one to pay for them! The devil uses me as a pawn to hurt her by making me a weak, fruitless reject of a leader that nobody loves. She never loved me."

Sandoval wanted to strangle himself right now for doing this, but he could not deny his own reflection. He took Zo'or's arms and helped him sit on the floor, that poor fallen soul, in terrible pain. He watched him blushing, panting and grunting as if he was fighting something inside him. Sandoval could tell it was something primitive, something instinctual and murderous. He had used it once. It was the whole reason why he and Zo'or had made this pact. Perhaps Zo'or had been trying to hide it for centuries. Perhaps every Taelon had it to an extent, and the loss of all of his power and the knowledge of his imminent demise had released it. It was Sandoval's job to keep it in check until the time finally came to really use it Therefore Sandoval watched him. He even comforted Zo'or to an extent, with Zo'or all the while trying everything in his power not to look upon the only source of compassion he would ever know. The red in his eyes subsided, and slowly he turned to acknowledge his…friend.

"Tell me about your parents, Agent Sandoval," Zo'or said solemnly. "Did your parents love you?"

Sandoval did not answer the question. He knew Zo'or did not want to know that answer anyway. Instead, Zo'or folded his arms and sat them on his two knees. Sandoval moved a little closer to Zo'or and sat cross-legged. They sat staring at the blankness of space. The beautiful blue planet of Earth floated mightily in front of the window like a light beaconing from heaven. But Zo'or and Sandoval averted their eyes. They chose the cold, black emptiness of space.