DR: A thousand apologies for the delay people. All I can say is 'It wasn't my fault!'. I tried to log-in and post this last Sunday, only to have an error message come up when I went to the Log-in link:

"The Login/submission section is currently unavailble due to a technical glitch. Please try again in a few minutes."

I tried again every few minutes for the whole of Sunday. And every so often on Monday and Tuesday... even while I was work.

Anyway, enough talk. Here's the scene you've all been baying for. A warning though: it gets very bloody....

Chapter 29: …Best Served Cold

Dr Tyrel leaned against a wall, gasping for breath. The sounds of battle outside had faded a while ago, but he hadn't noticed. He'd been too busy running.

He'd managed to escape his office, and found a number of orderlies and security guards running to his office. In the broad foyer, he'd turned to see his attacker.

With a sureness that was disconcerting and a grace that was extraordinary, River Tam had stepped around the corner. On her heels had emerged a metal creature that yet moved with all the grace of organics. The mismatched two had faced off against over three dozen burly men.

Dr Tyrel, his shoulder hastily bandaged, had spoken to the men around him. "I want them alive, but apart from that... do what you must."

The orderlies had moved forwards without question. Some had been with the project since its inception; others were rapid grown from the early subjects. Still others were men who had joined later. Whatever their origin, they had all been mentally cleansed of all unnecessary thoughts and emotions. They felt no pity for those they man-handled from holding bays to operating theatres, even when they held them down while the scientists worked. The orderlies were cold, unfeeling, any desire to rise up stripped from their minds. To ensure the subjects were not contaminated by them either, all the orderlies were castrated as well.

Of course, none of the scientists or guards had been. Their needs were provided for though. Those subjects that were deemed unsuitable, or no longer valuable, for the Project were moved to a separate facility, were the men of the base could have access to them for whatever they wished. Some of the higher ranked members, those with private quarters, sometimes took one of the former subjects back with them for a time. One foolish scientist had even taken three at once that one time. He'd been found dead the day after, his skull bashed in with his own awards. The former subjects themselves had been dumped into the barracks for a week as punishment. None could walk for almost a month afterwards.

Due to their roles, all the men were big, strong and burly chaps. Dr Tyrel had expected this slip of a girl would pose no problem. Even if she had had combat training implanted into her brain, it was highly doubtful that she could use it without the Alliance trigger word.

River had just smiled darkly, griped the sword she had held in both hands, and waded in. The metal creature had snarled before following.

It had been a slaughter. River had moved with lethal grace and poise, her fists and feet lashing out lightning quick. The blade she held left arcs of blood in the air whenever she swung it. Tyrel found that he couldn't keep track of her hands, as she switched between single and two handed swinging fluidly.

The metal beast lacked her sheer speed, but made for it with brute force. Its kicks shattered ribs. Arms were pulled out of their sockets – and sometimes off the person entirely – whenever it got a grip with its jaws. The tail was the worst though. Those that it stuck with full force didn't get up again.

Throughout, River had move her way across the foyer towards him. When he realised this, Tyrel figured he'd best escape while he could.

Now, only a couple minutes later, he was gasping like his children had when their buildings were ruptured. His legs ached from the strain, and his shoulder throbbed with agony. The shot of painkillers he'd been given had worn off.

"You can run, but you can't hide." River's sing-song way of saying the words was a sharp contrast to the feeling she injected into them. Tyrel looked behind sharply, eyes wide. Nothing.

"Your sins have come back to haunt you, doctor." This time she sounded like she was in front of him. Again, nothing when he looked.

"Doctor Lee Tyrel. Man without conscience. Sad, really, to go through life without realising the damaged lives you leave behind." She continued to speak, each sentence sounding like it came from another direction.

"Never married. Never found a woman you could understand or control. Animals never took to you. You'd hurt them, they knew.

"Buried yourself in your work, knowing that you were running from an empty life.

"Stripped away your own morals, just like you stripped away others minds.

"You see yourself as a noble bringer of light." Her voice seemed to emerge from the grate he was leaning against, and he jumped away in fright. "But we both know the truth, don't we Lee? You're not noble, don't even know the meaning of the word. Just a sad, lonely little man, covered in the blood of all those you violated..."

"NOOO!" Tyrel screamed, suddenly finding the breath to start running again.

There was jerk to his leg, and suddenly he found himself falling. Crashing hard into the floor winded him. It took him a minute to think to look down.

The pain hit his brain just about when he realised his right leg ended at the knee.

"Did you care for their cries?" River spoke once more, and he looked up to see her standing before him, eyes hard and sword coated with red. "Did you feel their pain as you tore their lives apart?"

He tried to speak, to beg, but the blinding pain from his wounds choked off any sound. Suddenly she was standing over him, the tip of her sword resting over his heart. This close, he realised it was unlike any blade he had ever seen. Long and perfectly straight, the blade appeared to be perfectly flat and slightly tapered. All the edges were sharpened to beyond razor fine.

"Did you even wonder if what you were doing was right?" She crouched down, head near his. He couldn't help but look into her eyes. Hard, emotionless, and burning with a cold fire.

"Did you think you could justify any of it?" Her hands relaxed a little, and the blade sunk into him a bit. The sheer weight of the blade drove it into him.

She brought her head lower, to the point where she was only a few inches from kissing him. Some of her dark hair had escaped the braid she'd worn it in, and now hung down each side of his head, cutting him off from the world.

"They say the human brain can survive for nearly twenty seconds after a person is beheaded." She looked right into him. "I want you to spend that time thinking about what you have done, and what it means for your soul."

In a blur of motion she stood up. The sword, which had slowly been breaking his breastbone through sheer weight, was suddenly whipped out. The next he knew, the world spun before halting suddenly.

The view he had made him want to scream, but his vocal cords were over there, and his mouth was here.

River held herself still for twelve long seconds, but she could not hold in her feelings anymore than that. With a primal scream she brought the sword down onto the doctors severed head. The blade rose and fell again, and again, and again…

X-X-X-X-X-X

Simon ran as fast as he could, following the bulky figure of Ghost. The organoid had appeared suddenly from a corridor, terrifying many of the poor women who had been captive in this awful place. However he had paid no mind, instead all but pulling Simon away from one of the young women – just as young as River had been when she had gone to the Academy – and began to drag him deeper into the complex. Simon had demanded answers, but Ghost had simply told him that his sister needed him.

As they ran, Simon could almost feel the oppression that had seeped into these walls. The women held here had all been abused in ways that Simon knew would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

Ahead of him Ghost slowed, then stopped. Without the sounds of their hurried footsteps, Simon heard something else; soft weeping.

Moving around the silent organoid, Simon eased forwards. "Goes se..." He breathed when he saw what lay ahead. River was curled up on her side on the floor, the headless body of a man close by. A little further beyond was an area stained red, with scattered, unidentifiable lumps within the red mess. Deep groves in the floor caused pools to form, and the wall close by was splattered with blood. Her Centurion sword, its blade coated in the sticky stuff, lay discarded close to her.

Slowly he approached his still weeping sister. "River?" If she heard him, she didn't respond. She just kept on crying.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, he gathered her into his arms. With a lurch she threw her arms around him, burying her head into his chest as a fresh round of sobs racked her slight body. He pulled her tight, ignoring the bloody stains on her clothes, the splattering on her face. All that mattered was her.

Ghost watched them, then stepped over to the corpse. Stooping, he plucked her heavy blade from the ground. He paused for a moment, then reached down and tore the front of the dead doctor's jacket off, including his name tag, with his jaws. Knowing that their chief tormentor was dead would go a long way to reassuring the former captives.

X-X-X-X-X-X

As she flew the shuttle down to the surface, Athena made several slow circles of the complex. Fighting had died down twenty minutes ago, but the smoke from the battle continued to plume into the sky. The yard where the Nightbringers had been built was now a mass of twisted wreckage and fire, while the Training centre was an artificial volcano. The other two sectors were mostly intact.

Settling down in the central plaza, Athena noted the large group of captured Alliance personal, segregated into the soldiers and the scientists. Stepping outside she found Major Croft, the head of the newly formed Marines, waiting for her.

"Major, how did it go?"

"Very well ma'am. The zoids shocked the Alliance badly, and their defences couldn't stand up to our weaponry. It might have been different if they had decent anti-armour weaponry, but I doubt anything they have could stop him." Croft jerked a thumb towards the towering form of the Fury, stood on the southern lip of the bowl that contained the plaza.

"We quickly overwhelmed the outer defences and what little armour support they had was quickly taken out. After that, we moved in on the remaining structures. The Barracks and other living quarters had some resistance, but the fight quickly left them when the Blades started tearing holes in the walls and ceilings. As for the research labs..." Croft trailed off.

"Yes?" Athena prompted.

Croft swallowed before proceeding. "...We encountered no resistance. River and Ghost dealt with those who would have before we arrived." Croft looked at her, his eyes haunted. "It was a blood bath."

Athena shivered, despite the warmth. She had been told that River had been 'conditioned' for combat, but clearly she was even more deadly than she had thought. And it took very little imagination to figure what a steel-skinned servo powered organoid could do to a human...

She pushed the chilling thought away. "Casualties?"

"Three troopers with burns, a couple of broken bones and a severe concussion. Those sonic weapons pack a wallop." He half grinned, the motion tinged with remorse. "Alliance losses we reckon at forty-percent in troops, plus whoever was in those two sectors."

As he had talked, Athena had glanced around at the gathered prisoners. Many of the soldiers, as far she could see, wore glum, sullen expressions. The scientists were outraged by contrast.

Now a new group were being led out of one of the entrances to the waiting Colonial shuttle. Instead of the marines though, these were being escorted by nurses and medics, all in soft tans and wearing supportive expressions. The group within were all women, some barely out of girlhood, all haggard and worn. Many looked at the captured Alliance personal in fear. Athena's eyes narrowed when she noted that most were pregnant to one degree or another.

Croft followed her gaze. "They were the Alliance's captives." He said with a cold tone. "We found them in two areas. Those held in the research wing were being kept in isolation, while the others were being held in a... brothel, for the soldier's pleasure." The disgust in Croft's voice was clear as day.

A cold fire swept through Athena, and a scowl formed on her face as she marched towards the captive Alliance soldiers. Several of them stood up as she approached, clearly recognising a command officer. Or maybe it was because of the two organoids assigned to the Marines that she could hear were escorting her.

She stopped before them, her eyes hard as she looked over them. Many were scruffy, dirt streaked and stripped of armour and weapons. A few dared to look her figure over, making her feel unclean, though those ones shrank back when they saw the fire in her eyes.

"Who is your commanding officer?" She barked. The closest few flinched. Her voice carried across the entire plaza, drawing the attention of everyone in it. Even the Fury turned its head to follow the exchange.

One made his way to the front. "I am. Major Sung of the Alliance Armed Forces." He spoke defiantly. His uniform jacket hung loosely on him, the catches undone.

Athena glared at him, matching his gaze. Much of his defiance and resolve crumbled under her piercing glare.

After a few moments she spoke. "Tell me, whose idea was it that your men would be allowed to rape the captives at will?"

The Major shivered, but answered. "It was Director Tyrel who told me to 'dispose' of the subjects who were of no further use to his Project. Rather than terminate them..." He trailed off.

"Yes? Go on." Athena's voice had a commanding edge to it.

The major swallowed, knowing that he would be sealing his fate with his next words. "...I granted my soldiers request for them to be placed at their disposal."

"In other words you kept those women around as captive sex slaves for your men." Athena's voice was as cold as space.

The major's cheek twitched. "I did not endorse their actions..."

"Liar!" The screech came from behind Athena. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see several of the formerly captive women had moved over to hear better, and one now stumbled forwards, her face twisted in rage. She may have once been pretty, but livid bruises marred her face, arms and legs, her hair straggly. "You were down there just as much as any of your men! Don't think we don't remember you, the one who broke my leg, you son of a bitch!"

"Now see here!" the Major snapped, taking a step forwards.

He didn't make another. The organoids growled, freezing him in his tracks. But he also found a colonial laser pointed at his face. Athena may not have been the quick draw that her brother was, but she had practiced till it was smooth and quick.

"I have a mind to kill you where you stand." She breathed, eyes flaring with indignant rage. "Or maybe..." She trailed off, lowering the laser till it pointed at his crotch.

The major shrank back, covering himself with his hands. "You can't do that! As a prisoner, I have rights!"

"And did you give those same rights to these women?" She snapped back, eyes narrowed.

The other captives looked like they would surge forwards to protect their commander, but then a shadow swept over them all. Looking up, expressions of pure terror filled all their faces as they hurriedly stepped backwards, many falling down in the process.

A deep, powerful growl from almost directly above her drowned out all other sound, allowing Athena to realise that the Fury had moved off the ledge to stand just over her shoulder. The major's face paled, as the front of his pants darkened.

Disgusted, Athena holstered her laser. "Listen up, all of you." She spoke loudly enough that all the Alliance personal could hear her. "Consider yourselves fortunate that my people abolished capital punishment many years ago. Otherwise, I'd be well within my rights to have you all lined up against these walls and shot." A murmur from many of the marines and the former captives showed that many felt that that was what these scum deserved.

"So instead, I'm going to maroon you here, on this near dead world. Once we leave, you'll have one half hour to gather what provisions you can before we destroy the entire complex from orbit. You may be joined by other scum such as yourselves at a later date. Maybe sometime in the future a new government for this system will send a ship, and you'll all get a trial to determine the extent of your guilt. But for now, you are all exiled!"

The soldiers were cowed now, but the scientists were all hollering, demanding to be extradited due to their knowledge and skills. One, louder than most, came across particularly clear. "You're insane! You'll be throwing away the best and brightest of humanity!"

Athena turned her cold gaze on them. "You are nowhere near being 'the best and brightest'! You're 'skills' of torture and foul practices will not be missed, I assure you.

"As for your knowledge... We can get that from your computers, which we'll be taking with us."

Spinning on her heel, she strode back towards her shuttle, eager to get off this tainted world. She paused by Croft. "Keep them contained until we've stripped all equipment and computer systems from the complex. Then pull out with the zoids covering you."

"Aye captain." He replied, an almost eager gleam in his eye.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Fifty-nine minutes later, Athena watched as both her ship and the Phoenix rained hellfire down onto the complex. Both ships had turned bows on to bring all their heavy weaponry to bear, and they were savaging the complex. The central plaza was being left alone, but everything else was to be reduced to duct and ash. Much of the area that contained the complex was now an inferno.

Athena didn't know how many had not moved far enough away in time, and frankly she didn't care, which shocked her to a small degree. Then she remembered what those... people had done to their captives, and her blood boiled once more.

Right now those poor women were on board the military freighter that Apollo's gunships had escorted in. When they had learned of what the Alliance did to female captives, she and Achilles had decided that the freighter would act as a recovery ship, where they would receive all the help they needed, both medical and emotional. There was no doubt in anybodies mind that these poor people had suffered greatly. Their recovery was expected to take years.

Finally she signalled to Lieutenant Hathoway to cease the bombardment. There was nothing down there except fire and molten steel and rock. It was time to rejoin Achilles and the fleet.

As the two destroyers turned away to head towards Osiris, the freighter turned towards Hera, paced on both sides by a pair of former Independent corvettes. They were an ancient ship design, only really a threat to unarmed vessels or ships smaller than themselves. But they made excellent escorts. Plus they were about the only craft that could keep up with the freighter.

Not that the freighter really needed escorts. Although thinly skinned and poorly armed compared to Colonial warships, to an Alliance ship it was a very tough cruiser type ship. The people within her hull were safe now.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Down on the planet, Count Iblis strode through the fires that raged where the Alliance complex had been. Anyone witnessing him would have thought they had descended into hell, as he was so furious that he'd dropped the genteel, kind old man image, revealing his true form.

The fires that raged around were as nothing compared to the fire that burned within him though. It was a black fire, pure hatred and loathing was its fuel, and it twisted everything it touched. Heedlessly he walked across a pool of molten metal, bubbling and hissing as it started to cool and harden once more.

Everything he had worked for, everything he'd crafted, guided, lay in ruins around him. Over twenty years of subtle nudging, suggestion and word dropping was wasted. Over the last two years all the small labs and separate projects had been brought into one single complex, with a greatly increased rate of development and innovation. Iblis recognised that humanity was greatly innovative. It was one of their greatest strengths. Set them a challenge, an obstacle, and they'll find a way around or over or through it, and more often than not much, much faster than any other race he'd seen. And he'd seen a lot. It was why they had grown so much in so short a time.

He stopped on the lip of the central plaza, remarkably still intact. All the entrances around the rim were filled in from within with rubble, but the carved form was intact.

Then he spotted the being standing at the centre of the plaza, and a surge of hatred shot through him.

Down there the white haired and suited figure turned to look up at him, expectantly.

Reluctantly, Iblis drifted down to the level of the plaza, resetting his human-like visage as he did.

"Quite the mess they made of this place, isn't it?" The being known as John said as Iblis came close. He then looked at him squarely. "Oh sorry, was this one of your projects?" There was nothing regretful in John's tone though, nor his expression.

"Keep it up John." Iblis snarled. "I still have a few cards to play. This game is not over yet."

John smiled coldly. "The end is certain this time Iblis. You can not run forever."

"NO ONE HAS DOMINON OVER ME!" Iblis roared before vanishing from visual sight, his human image dropping before he disappeared.