Chapter 19

Welcome to the mid-week installment. Let's find out what happened in the aftermath of the blue-skinned/steel winged incident…

###

As soon as he stepped inside the complex, Archangel's traveling companions pounced with their questions. People rushing in raised defenses instinctively – not a smart move on their part. He dismissed them with a scowl that made the duo backpedal humorously.

"Outside," he told them gruffly. The pair scrambled out into the garden.

Den-neer 'watched' the garden scene telepathically as he headed toward his quarters. It was impolite and voyeuristic, but he wouldn't dally long. Archangel was nauseous at the news of what happened – understandable, and Den-neer held pity for the man.

He felt Bae depart to return inside. Using Flint as surrogate eyes and ears, Den-neer listened as Ettwanae and Volu related their perspective of the events; it was a wholly inadequate recounting. While the Esha'Aru and Eshaar'ne had witnessed the event, they saw only outward manifestations of the mostly metaphysical battle.

Three things stood out from Den-neer's much greater understanding. First, as was reported by the Fjai scientists, Archangel did not remember anything past a certain point in his channeling of Source. Second, the man had no conscious awareness that he had been host to another sentient, autonomous entity. Third, at the height of channeling, Archangel had easily destroyed the entity. Quite the feat given what Den-neer sensed of the dark personality. It had been using Archangel as nutritive soil, was still young and growing, but had already become an extremely potent force.

Den-neer was certain that the bionites and the entity were a package deal. If correct, that meant the being Archangel called Apocalypse was the likely culprit. He had little doubt that if Archangel's metaphysical self had not been infused with Source, the parasite would have completely overtaken him, perhaps even destroyed his consciousness to claim Archangel's transformed body as sole owner. By sheer luck, years of carefully laid plans were no longer threatened by an enemy no one had known existed.

Upon entering his quarters, the telepath mentally commanded the AI to establish a link with Phai. The Elder of Elders would want to hear of the incident without delay. As he waited, a question nudged – do they tell Archangel of the entity or leave him blissfully naïve to what might have been?

When it was Uulophar who answered his comm, the agent was immediately uneasy.

###

"That's everything?"

"If I may say, that's quite enough!" Den-neer gave Warren an amused look, the icy blue eyes holding Warren's crystalline-blues.

They were alone in the galley. The morning after the garden incident, the winged man hunted down Den-neer and asked for a full account. Frustratingly, Warren remembered very little. Ettwanae and Volu's versions were outside perspective. It was Den-neer who was 'in there' with him, or that was what Ettwanae said.

Warren tapped fingers to the table. The recounting of Den-neer's telepathic rescue seemed…incomplete. Why would the man withhold information? To what end?

"I've been through a lot, Den-neer. I can handle it if there's something more going on with the nannites than I'm aware of."

The rusty-skinned alien tilted his head. "The nannites are once again dormant. Exactly how that occurred, I don't know with certainty. From my perspective, it appears to have something to do with The Source. However, that could be too simplistic. I wonder…does it mean that on some level, you do have control over them?"

"I've channeled Source a few times now, and you're right. On the surface, it doesn't appear to affect the nannites, yet from your description, it sounds like that is what happened. What makes you think otherwise?"

"Source is not a destructive force when filtered through a channeler."

Warren grunted in disagreement. "It did a damn good job of killing the Eilu and destroying their Neu citadel!"

The alien gestured his recant. "True. Extenuating circumstances. The Eilu are not of this dimension and are they are of opposite energy from Source. Light cancels dark."

"Like matter and antimatter?"

Den-neer shook his head. "No. When matter and antimatter collide, the result is explosive annihilation. When Source connects with the black matter of the Eilu, it is more like dissolution."

Warren raised eyebrows. "They are made of dark matter?"

"Uncertain. They have some of those properties, but not entirely. Attempts to learn exactly what they are have met with nominal success. Part of the problem is their constant state of partial dimensional shift – Eilu don't register well on even the most advanced scanners."

Nodding, Warren agreed. He remembered the readings from Neu – 'anomaly' was the best their scanners could offer. Even Volu's advanced technology couldn't penetrate the black citadel or get much on the beings.

"So, back to the nannites. I'm not certain I agree with your suggestion that I have some level of control over them. Believe me, when I was transformed years ago, I wanted to be my old self more than anything I'd ever wanted in my life, but they kept me in that state against my will."

Den-neer looked confused. "Then how did you revert to this form again?" he questioned with a wave of hand at Warren.

"My metallic wings were badly damaged by a guy called Sabretooth, and they finally shattered. Turns out my normal wings were growing inside the metal sheath – we figured it was my healing ability working around the nannites. So I had my wings back, but still the blue skin. Then later, a mutant tried to drain me of lifeforce, but my healing ability kicked in full blast and stopped him. The result was my skin color returned to normal. That was a good day." It had been, he remembered with relived relief – second only to getting his feathered appendages back. On that second magnificent day, he was Warren Worthington aka Angel once again, at least physically.

"Your healing ability, how did it manifest?"

Warren instantly understood what the alien was actually asking. "It looked a lot like when I channel. In fact, there was another instance with one of Apocalypse's injured horsemen…" he trailed off, lost in thought.

"You healed him?"

Warren gave a sigh of agreement. "Back then, I had no explanation for what I had done, except the waking of an otherwise dormant mutant ability."

Den-neer parted with his equivalent of a small smile. "I can see where that would be the assumption. And now you know there is far more to your ability than simple physical healing." At the raising of Warren's eyebrows, the man elaborated. "Soul healing."

"That's the stuff of Esserru legend."

"It is real."

"Maybe, but I haven't-" The quick uptick of Den-neer's chin cut off the thought. "Oh, no. Ztar did that on his own, if that's what you're getting at." Skepticism was clearly evident in Den-neer's expression. "I was a motivator, true, but I'll go no further than that." Warren was not going down that worn path again.

"Overcoming deep psychological trauma with outward manifestations of disempathetic objectification is quite rare without intense, long-term therapy…if even then. That was quite the motivation."

Warren huffed both from Den-neer's correct-sounding diagnosis of the Turzent's former state and that he actually knew of it in detail. "Ztar is an exceptional individual."

The operative leaned back in his chair. "Indeed. As are you. Despite the intimate nature of his aggressive outlet, at a minimum, you became a catalyst for the man's own version of a transformation.

Warren's blood began to boil. Just how much did the Shozen know? Apparently, quite a bit. However, Ztar's trail of discarded bedmates wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. What Den-neer actually knew or surmised, Warren really didn't care. He'd discuss it no further.

"We're done with that topic," he said sternly.

"As you wish," the man relented without sounding offended by the sharp command. Den-neer turned his attention to the hot, brownish beverage in his cup as if deeply contemplating its composition. What the liquid was, Warren hadn't asked, but it smelled citrusy. An uneasy silence followed until Warren broke it.

"Back to the episode in the garden. You are certain you've told me everything?" Instinct kept insisting that Den-neer had edited.

The cold eyes lifted and seemed distant. Unease gripped Warren. Was Den-neer probing telepathically?

"What do you want to hear from me?"

That was unexpected and Warren hesitated. "What triggered the nannites? And how I was able to send them into dormancy when according to you, Source can't do that."

"I have no answers to give," the alien answered looking as blank as his reply.

Warren studied the man who was nearly impossible to read. He was quite certain that any body language Den-neer displayed was intentional. Few people had complete command over their unspoken signals, but in the limited times he and Den-neer had spoken, Warren was coming to believe that he was one of those unique few.

"Why do I feel there is more than one meaning behind that statement?"

The black-haired head tilted to one side and again what passed as a smile crossed Den-neer's face. "A suspicious mind?"

Answering questions with questions – an irritating tactic. It was clear that even if Den-neer had more to tell, he wasn't going to. Why? Perhaps Warren would have to go higher up the chain of command. He stood abruptly and gave his wings a quick snap.

"Years of observation," he countered as succinctly. Warren left the Shozen sitting at the table, feeling the unreadable eyes follow him.

###

Den-neer watched Archangel exit the galley. He liked the Human. That was saying something, as he didn't care for most people. Whether that was a byproduct of his training and line of work or why he was so good at what he did, he'd often pondered.

Warren Worthington, a.k.a. Archangel, was intelligent, tough-minded, and an impressive fighter, while remaining self-sacrificing and compassionate. A warrior's heart guided by a noble spirit. You'd want the winged man at and on your side in a conflict.

Once Phai brought him up to date on the shocking Eilu attacks, they discussed the latest with Archangel. She had determined they would not reveal the entity encountered in the man's mind. The Elder wanted to limit the stress for the Esha'Aru pair as much as possible within the current highly-charged situation.

Thus, the entity would remain a secret between him and Phai. Den-neer had no compunctions about lying to the Human to shield him, yet if the man believed they were withholding information, it would damage the relationship Phai was seeking to build. Discretion and skillful deception were required. Den-neer felt less than successful with that assignment.

The Elder also commanded Den-neer to keep peeking inside to ensure that alien presence was truly gone. A tricky task as the Human was used to telepaths and had years of sensitivity training. One wrong move or too aggressive push and Den-neer would be caught. That would not enhance the man's trust of the Shozen, and Phai would be quite displeased. As such, Den-neer would perform the deep intrusion while Archangel slept.

As he and Phai talked about what Den-neer saw inside Archangel's consciousness, they considered two possibilities: the entity had stirred, triggering the nannites; or the nannites woke for unknown reasons, stirring the entity. They may never know which it was.

Yes, Warren Worthington of Earth, commonly known as Archangel, possible Esha'Aru or Human/Esha'Aru blend, retired warrior, host to biotechnology of almost god-designed complexity, former imperial companion, current member of Turzent royal court, hopefully past host to an unidentified but powerful entity, and likely one of the keys to saving the galaxy was fascinating indeed.

Den-neer rose and considered another cup of steaming treiys tea; a favorite of his. 'Later,' he decided and placed the cup in the ultrasonic cleaner. Thoughts returned to Phai. Of all the people he knew, she was the only important person in his life. Phai was superior, mentor, creator, and as close to a mother as anyone such as he could have. If the Eilu had been successful…

A heavy sigh escaped. What did it say of a life where there was but a single death you'd mourn?

Absorbed in contemplations of the answer, he didn't make it five paces beyond the galley before a clearly perturbed young woman confronted him.

"Phai cancelled our session today. No explanation. No apology. Doesn't she know how important this is?" A huff followed a dramatic planting of hands on hips accented with a deep scowl and wing snap.

He cocked an eyebrow and groaned internally. "She has her reasons." He slipped pass the upset Eshaaru hoping for a quick escape. The brief question crossed his mind of whether or not he should cease using the common mispronunciation with the Dark Coming closing in.

Then a hand grabbed and yanked his arm. Mistake. Very big mistake.

A whirl of fluid motion left the Esha'Aru dizzy, slammed against the wall, her neck clutched in his hand, and her other arm pinned behind. He glared menacingly down into the saucer-wide eyes.

"People have died suddenly and needlessly from mistakes such as yours. Never, ever grab someone you full well know is a walking weapon. And never grab a stranger. Repeat that with the wrong person and you will be a lifeless heap on the floor." He eased back, releasing first the arm and second the throat. "Molting or not, emotions cannot be allowed to run away with good sense."

He returned to his interrupted departure.

"We will have two meditation sessions today," he informed without looking back. He believed he heard a croaked 'yes, sir.'

###

Her ship had been racing for Ekkamm until issued new orders. Ary suggested Ekkamm, a reasonable, albeit risky, choice. Phai, though, had other plans.

One day after leaving the planet Phai called home for over 500 standard years, she had convened the Council. The group suffered from shock and trepidation as they all sped to various destinations within the safety of FTL travel. A simple Honor Rite for their fallen comrade had been the first order of business.

With sensors recording yet another eruption at the galactic core coinciding almost to the hour of the dual attacks signaled the final battle drew near faster than anticipated. They weren't ready. Too many things yet to be done. She was proud of her Council. Even in the face of shock and deep personal grief, they gathered themselves and plans were laid out.

Stepping into Sequi's role, Phai would travel to Sat'rey and take his place in talking with their Unifier for the Turzent realm. Taer would succeed Phai and ascend to overseer of the Commonwealth realm. The blue-skinned Elder would orchestrate the final positioning of operatives long ago slipped into the highest levels of Commonwealth government and military power, thus ensuring cooperation of both at destiny's moment. The balance of the Elders would perform like tasks in their assigned realms.

Tensions ran high – the endgame was nearly upon them. It was both a race against time and a period of waiting. It was the most dangerous time of all.

###

Nightmares filled with steel wings, red blood, blue skin, screams, and nauseating dread tormented for three nights running since the garden incident. An element never before present had accompanied the subconscious forays – a dark presence that was hell bent on killing him…a faceless evilness with no name. Warren assumed it represented the Dark Ones.

Sitting up, coated in sweat, trepidation and hopelessness drew a tight band around his chest in the cramped space of his tiny quarters. Warren needed something to shake off the latest dream. He needed a distraction as whispers in the dark taunted he'd never be free of the nannites.

Everyone else aboard Volu was likely asleep. Talking with Ettwanae again about the incident would thrill her as another display of their deepening relationship. But awakening of the nannites unnerved her to the core, and he'd worked hard to steady and reassure Ettwanae, along with Gatebi and Flint. In the end, he felt successful, but drained. All he wanted was to put the incident behind him. All he wanted was to be free… Warren shuddered with longing to shed the madman's legacy infesting his body.

He needed a different sounding board at that moment. In the soft luminosity Volu generated to stave of the otherwise pitch-blackness of her interior, he spied the PI on the nightstand crate. Without thinking, he reached out and activated the signal for one person he knew would take his call day or night.

"Volu, please help the signal go through," he requested, knowing the living ship never truly slept. The comm indicator winked at him as he waited for the Eshaar'ne to decide. Many seconds later, a steady icon.

"You appear in need of talking, Warren. While I wish it were someone other than Ztar, I will accommodate."

Warren cringed internally at the gentle reprimand, but he didn't feel up to explaining his choice. "Thank you, Volu."

It took a minute for the Eshaar'ne to work her techno-magic, but then the man's smiling face filled the PI screen more quickly than Warren expected. 'Must be daytime.'

"Archangel! What a wonderful way to start my day!" Then concern swept away happiness. "Or are you calling with bad news? You are well? In trouble? Where are you?"

Leave it to Ztar to make him chuckle immediately. "Everything's fine," he reassured, allowing himself the small misstatement regarding his questionable condition.

Relief instantly flooded the Turzent's face. "Thank the gods. Then you need something? What can I do to help?"

Warren switched to holo-display and returned the PI to the nightstand. It was quickly apparent from the expanded view that the man was in his chambers on the Mi-Lartui. "Ztar, I'm not some college kid who only calls home when he needs money."

Eyebrows shot up. "Why would I think you a student?"

He laughed with a shake of the head. "Never mind. I'm calling to check in and see what's happening with you and Jharda and the future king or queen."

Suddenly, Jharda stepped into the frame, giving Ztar a quick peck on the cheek before smiling in Warren's direction.

"Good morning, Archangel!"

"Good morning, Jharda. You look beautiful as always," He was rewarded with an even larger smile. "You and our future ruler are well?"

"Extremely. Pregnancy agrees with me."

Ztar gave the mother of his child a tender and encouraged gaze. "Then we shall make certain you are in an agreeable state as often as you desire!"

That garnered a light laugh and a matronly pat on the man's shoulder. "We'll see. Right now, I should get ready – our shuttle leaves soon."

"Traveling for business or pleasure?"

"Combination. We're at Tchutchka Centrus for several days to preside over the festivities to celebrate their 100th anniversary of imperial membership. Then it's back to Sat'rey for a short getaway at the Canyons of Vadyss. Ztar tells me it is spectacular."

Warren grinned at the fond memories of the locale. "It is! You'll be impressed."

"Ztar said the two of you loved it. I'm looking forward to a couple days of quiet time in the midst of so much hectic activity."

Something in the woman's expression told Warren it wasn't normal hecticness to which she referred. He would have bet on what it was. "You have news?"

Ztar finally returned the kiss with a peck to Jharda's cheek. "Tell him, beloved."

Jharda was beautiful ordinarily. She glowed with her pregnancy. Suddenly, she was radiant. "We do! Our wedding date is official."

Warren clapped his hands together once in elation. "Marvelous news! Where? When?"

"We will send the details soon," Ztar swept back. "And please, Jharda and I want you with us, if at all possible. The ceremony won't be complete without you."

Jharda grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Say you'll come."

"How could I not be there?" Melancholy quickly dampened joy, but Warren kept that from his face. What if there was no galaxy for Ztar and Jharda to live happily ever after? What about the hopes and dreams of trillions upon trillions of people all across the Milky Way? How was it possible that everything could just…end? He pushed the unthinkable aside for the happy couple's sake. Let them live blissfully unaware.

"You've made us very happy! It will be a traditional ceremony, honoring our past, but also looking to the future. And, please, extend the invitation to your new friends. I wish to meet Ettwanae," Ztar gushed uncharacteristically.

Warren let amusement at the man's unabashed delight wash away the last of the foreboding thoughts.

"I will."

Jharda patted Ztar's arm. "You men continue – I need to finish up. Be well, Archangel. We will see you soon." With that, she was gone.

Ztar leaned closer to his PI, the holo-image zooming nearer to Warren. The Turzent's face reflected unease. "Now, what has happened to prompt this unexpected comm?"

Warren winced inside – Ztar did know him well. "Can't a guy just call a friend to say hi?"

"Archangel…"

There would be no dissuading the man that his instincts were correct. "Well, I just needed to talk with someone apart from my current situation…to take my mind off things."

Concern reappeared on the handsome features. "Then, my friend, let's talk. I have as much time as you need." The compassionate expression revealed the deep pleasure it gave Ztar knowing Warren had turned to him, and that alone lightened his heart. He did love the big guy.

"But your shuttle?"

"I've no need to rush – Jharda requires time to prepare."

Warren had to grin that there were some universal constants. The smirk Ztar returned reflected both mirth and adoration for his wife to be.

And so they talked about many things and happenings, both personal and imperial…about the impending marriage; about everything and nothing. Warren disclosed no specifics, gave nothing away as to what hung over the galaxy's head or his own. In the end, as they said their good-byes, Warren felt it had been good to come up for air from the dark depths he felt pulling him under.

###

Another cliffhanger-free ending especially for a certain someone reading…you know who you are! Can't say this trend will continue. My love of that chapter-ending technique must be sated.

Next time, a major event unfolds. See you then!