Summary: (AU) Liz meets another alien while trying to escape from Roswell and the events of the end of Season 1 (the cave - you all know what I mean!)
Could this stranger, friend or foe, hold the key to Liz's own destiny?
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell so I'm not taking any of the credit from the creators for this fantastic show. Pity: I'd soo love to be mega-rich by now - and better yet, hold creative license over Tess' head (behave, vixen!) :D The OC's are mine, and I will fight viciously to keep them!
Reviews: I just want to thank all those who patiently reviewed the last chapter with the usual enthusiasm and interest!
To kt: Thanks for the loyal review and hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!
To my anonymous reviewer: Thanks for the support – I'm just sorry some of your review got cut out (and both times too!)
To just me: Wow – I'm surprised that I got one up on you, but I really wanted Liz to get first taste of her. As for the identity of Tess' kidnappers … well, I doubt I'd surprise you twice, so read on and see if you're right! As always, thanks heaps for reviewing and I'm sorry it took so long to update (please don't hurt me!) – hope this chapter is good enough!
And now on to the next chapter …
Chapter Eleven: The Masks We Wear; The Secrets We Keep – Part Two.
The chill of the coming desert night pervaded the concrete walls of her prison, and through the small barred window built too high up against the far wall, a thin stream of weak moonlight lit up a path to shine a spotlight upon the heavy, steel-enforced door that barred her escape with mocking enthusiasm. A constant drip of water absconding rotting pipes to hit the unyielding concrete echoed loudly around her already pain-filled head, and she sunk lower against the cold, damp surface of the wall she had huddled herself against in a vain effort to block some of the noise out. She felt the danger to her hang like a stifling fog in the air, but the effort it took to force her body to sit up drained the rest of her strength from her battered and bruised frame. She knew there was a reason beyond her self-preservation to try and escape; that there were others in danger also, but it hurt too much to even remember her own name, let alone remember theirs; and the fuzzy remnants of a memory sitting that edge further than her touch just refused to clear.
From a distance, a tapping of pointed stilettos upon the harsh surface rapped closer and closer to her door, and the small girl pushed the heel of her hands against her ears firmly in desperation as the pain inside her head grew sharper and ragged at the unfaltering echo. As the sound paused for a blessed moment at its loudest, the building pressure eased with the slight relief and the girl foolishly allowed her shaking hands to drop to her lap, her dirty blonde curls falling forward to shield her reddened eyes; she should have known better.
The sudden screech of the metal door scraping against the concrete floor as it was forced open assaulted her ears, and her tiny frame was wracked with immense waves of pain, her whole body collapsing to the floor as it heaved with dry retches that shook through her like seizures. As the pain overtook her bodily functions, her mind shut down and her sanity stretched once more to breaking point as she fought her limbs to try to pull herself into a ball in an attempt to block everything out.
Stepping through the growing shadows to strike an ominous pose in the metallic doorframe, the figure of a young woman poured voluptuously into a sharp, all-black corporate suit sneered maliciously at the shaking, curled-up form of her prisoner, her icy blue eyes glinting in wicked amusement at her success. Some might have been surprised at how easily she had managed to break through the mental defences to damage the sanity of the hybrid clone of Antar's Queen, but they probably would also be unaware of how much tormented agony a body and mind can withstand in a few short hours. The malevolent sneer that morphed into a feral grin was very experienced in that vocation, but then her usual veneer of professionalism had been discarded this time around for pure enjoyment; she had relished every second of the prisoner's tortured screams, and was only too ready to continue her ministrations to ensure she heard them again. However, as she entered the chamber, her heels clicking loudly in the charged atmosphere shared only by the low whimpering from the broken girl lying desperate and powerless upon the ground before her, it was clearly obvious almost immediately that she was not alone.
The woman who joined her was older on the surface, but it was clear by the way she surveyed the scene that she was also the superior. Her own corporate suit was rumpled and torn in places, and the stains of drying blood that obscured the front of her grey suit jacket and smattered her collar were not badges of honour. Her once carefully made up face was now marred by bruising and small cuts; the smear of blood stretched across her right cheek couldn't hide the determination and strength of the dominant behind her steely gaze. The look she fixed on the inert form of their prisoner held no compassion; her eyes were cold and emotionless, and she watched the struggle the small girl fought to raise her head off the ground to watch the newcomer with the veriest touch of bitter amusement at how far one so powerful could fall in such a short amount of time. Releasing her breath in a puff of irritation after standing silent, she ignored the girl who had failed to hold herself up and had collapsed into a painful heap once more, instead turning back towards the exit with a half-hidden limp. The younger of the two women standing remained where she was, watching her superior with a lazy indifference even as she moved to use the heel of her stiletto shoe to deliberately pierce the flesh of the fallen girl's hand, a sneer of pleasure growing at the hoarse, bitten-off scream that followed. Her superior paused in the open doorway, her fingers clenching hold of the frame as she fought back a wave of uncontrollable anger; paying no heed to the sudden screams that were now filling the chamber with a persistent noise, she spoke, and even as the younger woman listened, it wasn't clear if the words were meant for her or meant to strengthen her commanding officer's purpose.
"The Granolith will be found, and I will be the one to bring it back home. This will not become a disaster – not again. That little bitch will tell me what I want to know, and then … then it ends. And not even that meddling Akela could find a way to best my plan now!"
She pushed away from the doorway, striding down the corridor to her left with a surer step; she didn't hear the screaming lessen, nor see the glint of sanity return to the prisoner's blue eyes at the mentioned name. Memories had flashed up without control; another's smug smile and the remembered fear that followed returned, along with the faces of her family – a family she had to protect if their destiny was to be complete. With her own name came a strength of purpose she had been ingrained with at a young age, and sinking back into feigned unconsciousness, Tess watched silently as her torturer delivered one last swift kick to her already pain-wracked ribs before sauntering out of the dimly lit, dank room, dragging the steel door closed behind her with as much noise as she could muster.
Soon; the word whispered to her offered comfort that swirled through her mind like a curling plume of smoke. She knew then that escape was possible – and when she managed it, she would have to warn Max that the threat against them started with one small transfer student named Akela Morton.
Akela's eyes flew open, her meditation irreversibly interrupted by the sudden flow of angry thoughts buzzing through her mental connections. That link had been strangely quiet for some time; the insane ramblings bubbling forth making no real sense, before giving in completely to the waves of pain that had Akela content to believe she had rid herself of one problem for while. Her irritation rose to a point as she realised Valora had proved that in failing to destroy the annoying blonde hybrid, she had failed to be of any use to her again, and was rapidly growing tired of the games the Antarian General attempted to play with her. Her death seemed to be the only way to deal with her as she deserved. A change in the planned schedule would have to be made, but that would have to require more thought, and as she lounged back on the pile of large, softly covered fabric cushions that had been placed in the direct centre of her sanctuary as her chosen place of meditation, she pondered how best to make that change. Closing her eyes in resignation, however, her senses raged at her as Liz entered the sphere of her haven, the younger girl's clear emotional torment causing Akela to wince at the garbled flow of thoughts that whizzed through their connection. Her impatience growing at this new interruption, she kept her eyes pinned on the doorway as she settled herself more comfortably, awaiting the human girl's uninvited burst into the room. Her movements seemed antsy, her visage flushed from physical exertion, her eyes burning with the shadowed fire of betrayed anger. Akela's eyebrow rose of it's own accord, and she bit back an unholy grin as she realised the anger was directed at her. Liz could be so predictable at times, but maybe this time around, things could get interesting.
There was a faint aura of power that surrounded the Zai'era, and as Akela focused on it, the aromatic air of the burning herbs she used to help centre her meditation mixed with a sickly sweet smell that the Auron was giving off to make the air heavy with fragrance. Frowning at the vaguely familiar smell, she mentally pushed at the barriers the Auron had thrown up around it's human counterpart, her irritation growing to annoyance to find the colour that pushed back was a dark rose pink that tinged with the impurity of red. Liz's eyes flashed with a red light in response, and Akela passed annoyed to grow irate as she realised she in allowing Liz too much freedom, the danger she swore would never taint another Zai'era while she lived was already close to infecting the Auron's new host. That was something she could not allow to happen.
Before Liz was given the chance to vent the feelings that had spiralled during her mad rush from Senator Whitaker's office, Akela arose from her lounging position with an abruptness that startled her, a harsh light glinting in the smaller girl's suddenly cold gaze that Liz instinctively shrunk back from.
"What have you done, Elizabeth?"
"Me! Hey, Senator Whitaker attacked me, and she used your name as a reason!" The vestiges of fear were pushed behind her sense of outrage that somehow she was going to be blamed for what had happened. Akela didn't seem to hear her, her eyes glinting with a power that seemed to both frighten Liz and antagonise her at the same time. Her breath seemed to escape her as her inner self seemed torn between the two emotions; she wasn't allowed time to react.
Akela's eyes changed again. This time, they glowed with an inner green light that darkened her eyes to a deep pool of power that drew Liz's entire focus so that she was unable to look away.
"So, you have discovered the evil within,"
It wasn't a question; Liz didn't think she was meant to answer it. It wasn't meant for her.
"You were warned not to return!"
It wasn't Liz who answered.
With a low hiss, Liz's lips spread themselves into a cold smirk. Her eyes, that only a moment ago shone brown with Liz's expressive light, now swirled with the empty and bitter depths of a red, soul destructive hatred. Akela watched the transformation without outward expression, but internally, she was annoyed at the ease Liz had allowed herself to be taken over. It now seemed obvious that she had overestimated the strength of the human, but this new development would be just another setback she now had to resolve, and her fingers clenched as she realised her schedule would have to be replanned once more.
"Your power is weak; your grip on the human is tentative. Leave now – and do not return!"
The power behind the words was visible; Akela's voice deepened as the mental force she wielded filled her small frame and erupted with intent. The air swirled with faint clashes of red and green streaked with indigo, as a visible wind picked up through the shuttered room, whipping at clothing and through loose hair as the power intensified. Liz's eyes glowed a deep red before suddenly widening perceptively, the glow fading as the natural brown that was Liz seeped from the iris outward.
With a sharp gasp, Liz returned with a muddled confusion, and she shook her head to clear it as she realised her memory of the last few minutes were hazy. Akela again took the initiative before Liz could even think of the question she wanted to ask. Control was simply one more thing that she excelled at.
"Tell me what happened, Elizabeth. Tell me everything – and leave nothing out." The tone of her voice was as melodious as it always was, but there was a commanding element that pulsed behind the words. Even if Liz had wanted to hold back, she couldn't have; and she didn't want to. As Liz stepped closer, Akela held out her hand to help her sink down into the cushions beneath their feet, and the younger girl took it without hesitation.
Isabel lay in the warm comfort of her brother's tight embrace, her body shuddering at erratic intervals as her mind tried to make sense of what she had seen. Tess' screams still echoed through the caverns of her mind, and she swallowed past her drying throat as she tried hard to concentrate on the last word she could remember hearing – "Granolith". She knew that was the key to finding Tess; that whatever this Granolith was, it was the reason Tess had been taken, but the word was unfamiliar to her – as unfamiliar as her real mother's face. Sniffling, she pulled back from her brother's hold to face him.
Max had been silent since he had shared his sister's vision, and his facial expression was a plainly obvious show of his rolling waves of emotions. He wanted to worry about Tess, but he couldn't help but be worried about Liz; from what he had garnered from the phone conversation she had had with Maria, something bad had happened – and after Tess' abduction, the potential threat of danger to the one he loved most of all made him uneasy.
But he had to focus; Tess was in danger, he himself had seen that, and he had a responsibility to take care of those like him left under his protection and leadership. Which meant he had to rescue Tess first and worry about Liz later – but that was easier said than done!
Isabel stirring in his arms bought him out of his stupor, and the worry in her eyes caused a sharp pain to twist in his gut. He hated to see his sister so upset, but he hadn't the first idea of how to fix this disaster.
Thinking bitterly that some leader he had turned out to be, he avoided his sister's penetrating gaze and looked up to find Michael fixing him with a similar stare.
"So, … what do we do now, Maxwell?"
Pushing aside his doubts, he turned his gaze to the last two people in the room with them; Maria met it with a look of complete trust, and her confidence inspired him with an idea.
"When you talked to Liz on the phone, she warned us about a potential threat, right. She said it was Senator Whitaker who was the alien after us, right?"
When Maria nodded her head in affirmation, he stood up and began pacing the confines of Liz's bedroom. He could feel Isabel's wide gaze as she followed his movements, but when he finally paused, he did so before Michael who was seated casually on the windowsill, and their gazes fixed as he continued explaining his train of thought.
"Well, she wouldn't have just made up an accusation for the hell of it – she would have found proof first. Whatever it is, it could be enough to help us find out what's going on – and if we work out what Whitaker wants with us, we may be able to work out where they've got Tess."
When Michael didn't reply, Max huffed impatiently: "It's a start!"
Michael nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Max's. "So, where do we find this proof?"
It was Maria who answered. "She said she was at work. Maybe she found it there."
Michael nodded again, faster. "So, I guess we're going to break into the Senator's office. Isn't that a little too criminal for your taste, Maxwell?" Max merely grinned in reply, and Michael's face broke into a matching one. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"
Max turned away from the windowsill to face his sister, who hadn't moved from her seat on the crumpled bedcovers. He could read the pain behind her determination, and he couldn't help but admire her strength, as he knew that what he had seen was nothing compared to the physical and emotional agony Isabel must have shared with Tess through the link; his gut clenched once more as he asked his brave sister to do the impossible.
"I need you to stay here, Iz. I need you to try and link again with Tess – we might need more information from her if we don't find anything else." His eyes told her all she needed to know from him; she agreed without words, her breath hitching for a brief moment as she anticipated the pain she would have to endure to get anything more. But she knew that pain would be worth it.
Alex saw that pain too, and he moved from beside Maria without hesitation to sink down beside the blonde beauty on the bed, taking her cold hand in one of his. "I'll stay with her."
Max nodded his thanks before turning to the door, Michael following wordlessly behind him. Their path was cut off by the only one not assigned duty. Her hazel green eyes glowed with a resolve not to be left behind and Maria voiced her desire to go along with them without wavering. Michael was very vocal in his refusal, but Max saw the glint in her eye that told him she'd follow them with or without his approval, so he reluctantly agreed, ignoring Michael's glare as he pushed past Maria to get the jeep started.
It didn't take them long to reach the Senator's Roswell office, but with Maria and Michael arguing the whole way the trip seemed to take twice as long, and it wore on Max's patience. When they arrived, Max parked the jeep in a shady corner of the alley behind the closed-up office, and the three teenagers crept through the darkness of the growing evening to the side entrance that led from the parking bay to the coffee room. The entire office was plunged in darkness that even the emerging moonlight couldn't penetrate, and the three split up to search through the large office areas for any sign of what ever it was Liz had found to pin alien status on the Senator.
Michael plotted an unwavering path to the filing cabinets in an alcove off the main office space while Max wandered around the empty, paper-strewn desks until he found Liz's. Distracted slightly by the lingering aroma of her favourite scent, he sat down in her chair and gazed at the deceitful bareness of the surface of her desk. Nothing jumped out at him, but he didn't have time to search as a sudden squeal from the open doorway of the Senator's private office caught his undivided attention.
Maria stood frozen in shock, her hands cupping her mouth in horror that couldn't quite mask the frightened yelp that had erupted from her at the scene her eyes were taking in. Michael dropped the file he held in his hands as he raced to cover the distance between them, and Max vaulted the nearest desk to reach her side, but neither had to ask what had frightened her.
Standing on either side of her, their own eyes took in the devastated state of the Senator's office space; the broken shards of glass that covered and surrounded her ripped and scattered desk, the drying blood stains that smeared along the pristine white of the walls and pooled in darkening shades into the carpeted floor beneath. Max fought to breath, and Michael grabbed Maria in a bone-crushing hug, turning her gaze away from the battle scene as the only question he could think to ask was torn from his throat.
"What the hell happened here?"
Max couldn't find an answer; this office was where Liz worked, where the last communication anyone had from her originated. His worry for Tess lay forgotten as his chilling fear for Liz's safety overtook all his senses, and the only words that poured out of him in response was a disturbing thought.
"There's a lot of blood … too much …"
"I guess we know for sure the Senator isn't as squeaky clean as she likes to pretend she is. What do we do now?" Her false exuberance belied the emotions shining from her eyes, and though she pretended not to hear what he had just said, it was obvious Maria had followed the same train of thought he had. She looked to him for an answer – any answer – but Max couldn't meet Maria's gaze as she pulled away from Michael's embrace; he just didn't have any answers.
Isabel used her hands to dry wash her face as she heard the door slip quietly shut behind Michael and Maria as they followed Max out to the jeep, arguing viciously the whole way. She could sense Alex beside her even if she couldn't see him past the cover of her hands, and she was grateful it was him who had stayed behind. Alex always had a calming influence over her, and she needed that influence now more than ever. Drawing in deep breaths, she closed her eyes and reached out for Alex's hand, allowing him to lay her back down in a more comfortable position.
No words were required between the two of them; Alex knew that Isabel was attempting another connection with Tess and would need his support even if she couldn't ask for it just as Isabel knew that Alex was here to help her focus through the pain to get a message to her missing friend. Her mind filled with a grey mist as she tried to reach out for the familiar thought tendrils that identified Tess' mind among the many in Roswell, the mist swirling around her as she stood alone amongst the many garbled voices that flew towards her.
"Tess? Tess!" Her instinct told her she was close by, but as she reached out in different directions, she couldn't get any closer. The grey mist grew into a fog, choking her as she tried to fight through it; the garbled voices growing louder in her mind as the ambush swamped her senses. With a scream Isabel ducked, her hands flying up to cover her head in a vain attempt to protect herself; and with a start, she awoke in Liz's bedroom with Alex's arms wrapped protectively around her.
He spoke soothing words to her, his hand stroking a rhythmic comfort through her hair, and she turned her face into his warm shoulder and let the tears of fear flush through her system. Alex didn't need to say anything legible; the fact that he held her close without hesitation was all she needed to find the courage to try again, and she wrapped her fingers tightly around his as she closed her eyes once more.
This time, the fog was there from the beginning, the voices screaming for her attention; but with effort, she blocked them out. Focusing on her memories of Tess' warm smile and the musical tinkle of her amused laughter, she reached out again, and found it easier to find the right direction. This time, it seemed as if Tess was reaching out for her as well, and the combined effort made the connection simple.
The flashes began instantaneously – the same images as before, and Isabel bit her lip against the discomfort hard enough to make it bleed; the slim trickle of red streaming physically down her chin. Alex could do nothing but clench her hand in both of his as he sat in quiet vigil over his Ice Queen out in the real world, and Isabel felt the pressure of his presence as a wave of reassurance washed over her, prodding her forward. The images faded, and Isabel pushed further into Tess' mind, hoping to find an opening to her consciousness.
Suddenly, her vision became blurry, as if she was viewing everything through a tinted lens. Images shifted, shadows grew; then everything cleared, and Isabel knew she was seeing things through Tess' eyes. She spoke then, through the mental link, letting Tess know that they were worried for her; that they were searching for her. All they needed from her was something – anything – that might help them find her. Tess didn't respond at first, staring at the bare wall before her without blinking, then turning her gaze to stare at the large metal door that kept her locked inside. Isabel could feel how weak and drained Tess was, that she wouldn't be able to help them by using her powers, but then the scene shifted again and Isabel realised Tess was showing her a memory.
The door was open, and a woman stood on the threshold; she wore a business suit that was torn and covered in bloodstains. Her hair that had once been combed and blow-dried to sweep back off her face was now tangled, falling forward to hang limply over one eye. Her exposed cheek carried a fresh slash that was still smeared with drying blood, and her eyes held a cold look that couldn't quite hide the determination behind the colour.
Her fingers clenched a hold of the doorframe, her words barely heard over the tortured screams that echoed dully around the room.
"The Granolith will be found, and I will be the one to bring it back home. This will not become a disaster – not again. That little bitch will tell me what I want to know, and then … then it ends. And not even that meddling Akela could find a way to best my plan now!"
The memory faded, and Isabel felt the tug of a strong force ripping the connection away from her; when she opened her eyes, she was back in Liz's room, lying out on the bedcovers beside a concerned Alex. As she met his gaze the memory returned to her – the woman in the doorway had been familiar to her and with a start she realised it was because the woman was Senator Whitaker. And she had been talking about the new transfer student, Akela Morton, as if she knew her. Everything seemed to settle into a strange sort of sense as Isabel realised their list of enemies was growing. She had to warn Max.
Liz rested her nose against her clenched hands, her eyes raised upwards to watch the outwardly calm façade of her teacher and confidant. Akela, in turn, kept her eyes focused on the flickering candles that hung above an interesting motif on the far wall, her gaze revealing nothing of her thought process. Instinctively, Liz knew the silence promised a bleak outlook.
"We have to do something."
Liz's words barely scratched the surface of the silence that lay around them like a stifling blanket; Akela didn't acknowledge the statement – she felt no obligation to the Royal Four; their problems were their own. Liz didn't feel the same.
"If you wont help them, then I will." Akela looked up at Liz then, her eyes betraying an annoyed amusement.
"You would use your powers then, knowing that if you do before you have completed your training you run the risk of losing your humanity. Do you want to become a cold-blooded murderer?"
Liz avoided her penetrating gaze as flashes from the battle with Whitaker filled her mind, and she shuddered as she remembered the cold rage that had enveloped her so completely. "No."
Akela looked away, but Liz turned to watch her profile as she continued. "But I have to do something to help them. Tess hasn't done anything to deserve death." Akela turned her sea-green gaze to meet Liz's emotionally charged brown eyes, and the lack of expression that pointedly watched her unnerved Liz enough to wonder if maybe she was wrong. But letting someone die when she had the power to stop it wasn't in her character.
Exasperated by the limitations her human Zai'era pretended to adhere to, Akela was tired of waiting – her plans had been delayed long enough, and Valora had defied her for the last time. She knew exactly what had to be done; Valora's death would be swift, but that didn't mean she couldn't make the Antarian suffer first. Patience was never the best of her virtues, and reaching forward with her mind, she shut out Liz's attempt to defend Tess' wellbeing to find Ari outside the confines of her private sanctuary, the cat-like Protector stretched out in a seemingly relaxed pose. Not surprised by her Go'ruth's ability to anticipate her impatience, she imparted her plan with a slight hint of amusement that revealed her own expectation of a little fun in her next meeting with Valora. Turning back to Liz, she cut of the younger girl's scolding as she stood up and paced the distance from the centre of the room to the nearest window facing towards the west limits of Roswell. Liz watched in wary silence, waiting for the unexpected, and was not disappointed as Akela turned her profile so that she could catch Liz's reaction in the edges of her periphery.
"Don't leave this room," Akela's dark tones returning with the one sentence that was unmistakable as a command, but Liz wasn't fooled into signalling agreement. They watched each other for the smallest second before Akela nodded slightly in acknowledgement; with a flicker of the candlelight that filled the room with a gentle glow, she faded into the power of teleportation as it whisked her away to battle. Left alone and unaware of Akela's plans, Liz came to a decision.
Reaching for her mobile phone, she dialled a number she hadn't used in a while; it took only two rings before the call was answered with a professional courtesy that bought Liz a measure of comfort to hear. She needed the help of a power of authority – a human power that Akela couldn't be.
"Sheriff, it's Liz Parker; don't talk, just listen. Tess is missing, taken – and Max and the others are in danger. Real danger! I know who's behind it. It's the Senator – look, I know that's hard to believe but you have to trust me; she's a threat to all of us! She isn't afraid to kill, so we don't have much time! She has Tess, Sheriff – you need to help us find where she's hiding. That's where she's got Tess!"
The pause before his reply was short, but it was seeped with confused shock; when he did answer, it was obvious he was finding it hard to know how to react. "And how do I do that?"
"I don't know; you're the police officer, Sheriff – you figure it out! Run a trace on her car or something … call Max with whatever you've got when you find something out."
"Liz? Liz, what are you going to do? Liz!" It was too late to get anything more from her; his only response was the disconnected tone that sounded down the line like a beacon, waking the Sheriff up from his daze and into action.
Unable to drag his gaze from the scene of the unnatural devastation, his thoughts seemed unable to move from the statement glaring at him from behind his eyelids that he didn't know what he was supposed to do next. Behind him, he could still hear the anxious tones of a overwhelmed friend and the constant beep of a mobile phone pad, but he didn't or couldn't register who or what was going on. He knew he had to snap out of it; that there were others counting on him to stay strong and in control, but all he could see was a pair of warm brown eyes that stared out across the horizon of his mind – eyes that had always trusted him; eyes that he was afraid he hadn't been able to save.
The voice behind him rose a notch to the soprano pitch of the frantic, and a pair of sturdy hands reached out from behind to grab him, shaking him out of his trance just as the sound of something metallic hitting the far wall made both boys turn to face the fretful gaze of a fearful Maria. At their questioning concern, she shrugged in a fanatic way, her eyes wide as if, "She's not answering her phone!" was an excellent reason for destroying her own.
Neither Max nor Michael asked whom the "she" was that Maria was talking about; her words only caused Max another sharp pang of bitter remorse at his failure. Before Michael could demand what they were going to do now, Max's own phone began declaring in its shrill tone an incoming call, and he grabbed for it on a reflex, answering the ring without stopping to check who the flashing ID proclaimed the caller to be.
His eyes remained fixed on the battered remains of the Senator's desk, but he pivoted around to meet Michael's questioning gaze with his own bemused stare as the caller revealed information that was extremely relevant. Even Maria's attention was riveted on Max at his revitalized behaviour, and her unspoken question was answered when he covered the speaker long enough to whisper urgently that the Sheriff was on the line – whatever he was telling Max was obviously important good news, and she bounced impatiently on her toes for Max to relay it to them.
"Yeah, Sheriff, I'll remember the address – just one thing: how did you know I needed this information?"
The response he got was not what he was expecting; and for a few moments after he hung up the shell-shocked look on his face stopped Michael from immediately demanding to know what the Sheriff had to say. Maria beat him to it.
Max's eyes glowed with confusion as he fought to find the right words to answer: "I know where Tess is!"
The dank concrete walls that permeated with a rotting stench of decay was the first thing Akela noticed as she rematerialised at her chosen destination, and she wrinkled her nose in an effort to keep the smell from overwhelming her senses. As she swivelled her head to take in the whole room, she noticed a gaping doorway less than three feet away and she stalked silently towards the glow of lamplight that filtered through the opening as she recognised the sharp voice that followed the light towards her.
Valora pushed back against the old, decaying table behind her, hissing in pain as another Antarian soldier fought to wrap her shoulder up tightly in a clean bandage. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she almost missed the faint chuckle that increased into an amused childish giggle that echoed ghoulishly. Shoving the boy away, his hands slipping from the bandage to leave it hanging awkwardly around her upper arm, Valora pushed off the desk to glare around the room, her left hand raised in a command signal that the boy hurried to obey. As he reached the exit to the outer corridor, he suddenly keeled over, his hands raised to his throat in a strangled squeal as his feet collapsed under him; he was dead even before he hit the floor.
The giggling stopped, but as the shadows lurking in the open doorway merged into female form as she stepped over the dead body to enter the room, there was no mistaking the pleased grin that stretched across her face but couldn't quite reach her eyes. "What a waste of a nice, clean bandage!"
"Akela!" Valora's lip curled in a furious sneer; in the hours she had had to wait for Tess' confession without achievement, her anger had surpassed control, and she forgot the past as
she found a new target for her wrath. Akela merely responded with a tickled smirk, and Valora growled even as she backed up, her shoulder blades finding the hard surface of the cold, concrete walls. She was trapped.
"I clearly remember warning you away from Elizabeth Parker, but it seems you ignored my warning. Now, either you're just really stupid, or you just forgot … I'm going for the former, but what do you think?"
"You shouldn't be here!"
The smirk grew into a grin. "Huh, really? Well, I think, you and I have some unfinished business. So, how about we settle this – and since I'm feeling generous, I'll make it easier on you. You're a soldier; you know weapons. Pick one, and you and I will have an epic battle. Maybe you'll last longer than ten seconds …" Her thrown gaze over her shoulder left no doubt to the message, and Valora glanced from the fallen soldier blocking the doorway back to the girlish façade of a seasoned killer. Sometimes the masks on the outside can effectively deceive an opponent into making a fatal error in judgement, and Valora grinned savagely as she agreed, her rage blocking out her sense as she made the mistake of underestimating the small stature Akela hid her true nature behind.
"Maybe when I kill you, this day could be raised a notch above 'unqualified disaster'!"
"Aww, has your day really been that bad? You should have just killed the hybrid outright – I could have told you she wouldn't talk. It certainly would have made my day easier!"
"Well, the next time I want your advice on how to do you a favour, I'll ask!" Akela laughed outright at the venom oozing from the vengeful Antarian, but her amusement died a slow death to remain a slight smirk as she circled away from her opponent, giving her a measured amount of room to make a move. "Choose already; I don't have all night – and I'd prefer not to have to attack you randomly like you allowed Catriona to do so earlier on today. I find it gets messy when you loose that element of control."
Valora had inched slightly to the left, but she froze when the name she hadn't heard spoken in a long time was thrown so casually at her, and she whipped her head around to meet the cool, sly gaze Akela watched her reaction with. Her eyes were widened in shocked surprise that faded to a defensive suspicion, and she visibly tried to relax muscles that had instinctively tensed at the mention of the cursed name.
"Catriona is dead – and if you're in such a hurry to join her, then I say we fight it out the old-fashioned way: Draconian broad swords – a specialty of mine. And we do it outside. Just like its done back home." Akela's lips widened in a grin of satisfaction, and for a brief moment before the rage took over once more, Valora felt a stirring of uncertainty that maybe she had been a little too hasty. It was too late to back out now.
The air outside was frosty with the type of moonlight only the desert night can bring, and the abandoned courtyard Valora had chosen was especially deserted, surrounded only by a high wire-thin fence that cut off the outside world, a corner kept separate for the storage of the energy generator. As the women entered the opening and paced to opposite ends of the centre, a shadow separated itself from those thrown across the cold concrete from the night sky to reveal a tall, broad shouldered man clad in black and brown leather, his midnight black hair caught up in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck that couldn't capture the trailing fringe that fell menacingly into his silver grey eyes. He was carrying a large, unwieldy object covered in a black sheet, but it was the full sized ebony skeletal wings that erupted from his back in dishonourable glory that caught Valora's breath, and she stopped dead with a hitching glare, one word passing her frozen lips.
"Ba'ran …"
Akela cocked her head, her eyes travelling from the man at her side to the stunned Antarian twenty paces from her, and grinned again in undisguised amusement. "That's right – have you two met?"
Valora didn't hear the question; her eyes were locked in horrified amazement on the wings and the man who owned them; he refused to meet her stare, his own gaze fixed on a spot no one else could see with unwavering intensity, his jar bulging as he clenched it hard to keep the abusive anger locked deep within. Victus knew this fight was Akela's, and he had no right to steal the victory from her.
Akela watched the conflicting emotions pass over Valora's face, and the girl allowed the malicious amusement she as enjoying shine genuinely from her eyes for a mere moment before taking control back into her own hands. Pulling the cloth gingerly away, revealing two large Draconian class broad swords; grabbing one of the incredibly heavy weapons with her left hand, she easily hefted it and sent it sailing across the courtyard towards her opponent, who flinched away from the sharp ends instinctively. "I believe that's your personal choice in weight, right? If I'm wrong, you can always go get your own." Her sneer as she delicately took the remaining weapon firmly in her right hand, swinging the blade in a complicated series of short-range moves that belied its weight with her grace, showed she expected no other opinion. Valora, testing her own weapon with a breast full of nasty emotions, didn't trust herself to respond fairly; her sharp nod was Akela's only response. Waving it once above her head, she moved herself into an opening pose, and as Akela responded with a skill one wouldn't expect from one who looked so young, the fight began.
Victus removed himself to wait patiently while half cloaked in shadows as he watched his mistress display the inherit skill she had mastered over years of detailed training and thorough practice, and while it was clear Valora also had some skill with this particular weapon, she had neither the ingenuity nor the tenacity to be an equal match to the smaller girl. After a few circles of the court, it was clear that Akela was just playing with her, and after dodging a vicious swing that Valora barely had the capacity to block let alone return, she realised the truth of the matter herself. A cold fear rushed through her veins more potent than any mere adrenaline high, and she pushed the edge of her sword up to gain enough leverage to scramble away from a death-dealing blow, the knowledge that for the second time today she could do no more than defend her life against a superior fighter a bitter aftertaste of defeat.
Akela moved swiftly with a sure step to follow up her advantage, and Valora's weapon was sent flying across the courtyard; the older woman pulled herself up to her knees, cradling her right hand which now bore a deep gash down to her wrist against her heaving chest as she fought for breath, determined to face her death without the stigmata of a coward. Akela's lips widened in a feral grin that showed white teeth glinting in the suddenly bright moonlight, bringing the edge of her weapon up against Valora's neck, whose head raised in pride to avoid the sting of the steel blade against her exposed flesh. "Just do it - get it over with!"
The scene seemed held in suspended animation of a brief moment as Valora met the gaze of her enemy; the silence was broken by the clatter of metal on pavement as Akela tossed her sword to the side, her gaze never leaving those of her prey. Valora turned her head to watch the sword skip to a stop a few feet away, then turned back to meet the closed sea-green eyes above her with a confused question in her own.
"What are you waiting for?"
Akela pulled herself up to her full height, rolling any kinks out of her shoulders before answering. "You really didn't think I was gonna be that easy on you? Did you?"
Turning away to leave the Senator on her knees, she didn't wait for an answer; Victus watched his mistress stalk towards him, her eyes closed off from him as she allowed the shadows to wrap themselves around her. He saw Valora raise herself from her knees just as he heard the sound of an engine cut out on the opposite side of the fence behind him. He saw the wild glint in Valora's eyes as he heard running footsteps approaching the courtyard from the wrong side. He saw Valora raise her hand, the remnants of her alien power pooling from behind the concentration in her eyes as he heard the sound of two other vehicles approach the open courtyard from another side and the sound of a familiar voice shouting out Akela's name in frightened warning. He saw the power combine in a ball of energy that sat in Valora's hand as he heard another shout from behind the Antarian General, then another as they moved into action to save one of their own. He saw the power leave Valora's hand as she hurled towards the unprotected back of his mistress as he heard a frightened scream as if from far away. But all he could focus on was the memory of a beloved face, her black eyes almost hidden behind reddish gold hair as she was taken from him; and he swore he would not stand by and do nothing while someone else close to him was stolen from the world.
"NO! NOOOO!" He heard the voice, recognised it as his own; and in the end, he should have known better to think Akela wasn't prepared. He didn't have to do a thing: a dark shield of dusky black power surrounded the shadows Akela had merged into, absorbing the blast and refocusing it to shoot back in a beam of such extraordinary light that the Roswellians had to shield their eyes from the brightness. When it faded, all that was left of Senator Vanessa Whitaker was a pile of shredded ash in the centre of an empty courtyard.
Across from them, on the far opposite side of the courtyard, Max thought he saw a shadow, but as his eyes adjusted back into the darkness of the desert night, his gaze met the frightened brown eyes of the one person he was afraid he wouldn't see again. The fence line prevented Max from running straight towards her, but he called out her name, hoping she wasn't a delusion. When her eyes lifted to meet his in surprise, he knew she was real – just too far away to reach.
Sheriff Valenti hadn't waited to see the end of a seemingly one-sided confrontation, and as he emerged back into the courtyard he had a semi-conscious Tess draped over his shoulder. Michael raised his own hand and blasted a hole in the fence large enough to break through to help the Sheriff with his burden, and Max rushed forward to heal the numerous wounds visible to their sight and the many more that weren't, his attention only half fixed on the Sheriff's surprised statement that he had found the desolate warehouse completely abandoned. Isabel heard, and grabbed Michael's hand in a mutual display of comfort in hearing their enemies were still out there, somewhere. Maria and Alex, recognising their usefulness had reached its limit for the evening hurried to find a way to their best friend, a friend they had been worried they too wouldn't get to see again.
As Max focused on Tess' wounds, a certain sense that he was being watched from the shadows unnerved him enough to raise his head, moving his gaze around the courtyard until it came to rest on Liz's once more, but his gaze was broken as Isabel asked in a rush of concern for her friend if Tess would be safer in the car. Not wanting to argue with her, he helped the Sheriff lift the smaller blonde girl off the ground, her body shifting uncomfortably with the movement, and the faint breeze caught her mumbled word and amplified it.
"Akela …"
Liz wrapped her fingers in the wire of the fence holding her back from feeling Max's comforting arms around her – which was a good thing, as she could admit she was afraid she would have given in to temptation too easily! Instead, she watched him walk away from her, a feeling resting in the pit of her stomach insisting that something was about to go very wrong; but if she was truthful with herself, nothing was right, and it would never be right again. Another gust of wind blew through her hair, whipping it forward without the comforting caress of a summer warmth; the wind blew through the wires to send the ashes in the courtyard spiralling upwards to create a funnel of dust towards the night sky, before skittering across the ground to swirl around Max's ankles, and for a brief moment he thought he could detect Liz's scent. Pausing, he looked up at the night sky above him, the V constellation he tried to avoid facing beaming down on him, and he thought he could hear a voice bringing him a message in the wind.
"I will destroy the bond between the two of you – it's only a matter of time and the right plan. Oh, and I do have a plan; so, see you around, highness!"
Next Chapter:
Chapter Twelve: There Are Too Many Corners In a Foursquare:
With the death of the Senator, it could easily be believed that any major disaster for the week had been averted; but even though Tess is back, she brings with her memories that could easily disrupt the fragile bonds Liz is holding on to so desperately. The question is, if she had to chose a side …
AN: Okay – so this post took even longer than the last one – I am soo sorry, but I haven't been well enough in a long time, and when I finally get back to it, all the words seem to just refuse to make sense! So, this chapter is a lame offering (I tried to make the scenes short and confused in an effort to make the whole storyline appear as hectic and action-packed as they would have been in the show, but I don't think it worked!) and I apologise profusely! I just hope my muse returns to full strength before the next instalment in this story!