Settling back into his bed, after so long in the infirmary – even though he didn't remember much except waking up with Slade and Star – was a nice change of pace. Now, if he could have avoided the nightmares, then things would have been perfect. Still, this was the best sleep he'd gotten without some kind of life-threatening injury, or drugs, to help him along; something to be grateful for, at least.

Turning to look over at his wall clock, he found that it was just a little under an hour before he and Slade would have normally gotten up for breakfast.

(Slade?)

(You're not dead.) There was genuine relief in his brother's voice, and for a moment Saber felt a swell of sympathy.

(Good morning to you, too, brother mine,) he said, trying to lighten the mood. (Do you want to head down to breakfast now, or do you think you'd like to get more sleep?)

(I don't think I'm going to be able to get anymore sleep,) Slade said, sounding more than a little uneasy; Saber could definitely sympathize. (I'll meet you at your room, and then we'll both head down to the cafeteria together.)

(Sounds good to me, brother,) he said, levering himself up and out of bed, then starting to undress.

The clothes he'd worn to bed last night were pretty much only suitable for sleeping in, or for when he'd been recovering in the treatment room, but he couldn't honestly expect to go traipsing around the Command Center at large in nothing but this. Not if he didn't want to look crazy, at least. So, he was going to have to do something about them.

Washing up and changing, Saber made a mental note to get in a shower when he had the opportunity to get back to his room. It'd been entirely too long since he'd indulged himself with a long, hot shower, and he was looking forward to it. When he was finished with his morning routine, Saber left the bathroom, tossed his sleepwear into the hamper, and went over to his small closet to get another uniform.

It could have been annoying, wearing the same kind of clothes day in and day out, if he let himself think that way, at least. Still, given how many things there were to distract him from the niggling little details of life like what he wore and such, Saber figured that he'd be able to cope. Well, that and the fact that he didn't actually have anything besides spare Space Knight uniforms to wear.

Heading over to the door, Saber opened it to find Slade waiting for him there. There was a look of profound relief on his face, and Saber tried not to remember the reasons for it. It would be enough that he and Slade were back together; they wouldn't let it be any other way.

"Well, let's go have some breakfast, brother mine," he said, smiling as Slade's expression settled back into its usual stoic lines.

"Yeah," Slade said, with a small, brief smile. "Let's go."

101001010

While he waited for the teknopod that he had come to consider his own to finish healing his body, Gunnar seethed over the injuries to his pride; such wounds as those would not be so easily salved. He was supposed to be better than the traitors; he was complete, while the two of them had been unable to complete their own transformations for whatever reason. It was infuriating: he had been beaten by half-creatures, those who still clung to the miserable little dustball that Lord Darkon had determined to conquer.

That was not the way things were meant to go; he was the one who should have been defeating them with ease, no matter the fact that they possessed the advantage of superior numbers.

Instead, he was within the halls of Lord Darkon's great ship, having been forced to spend an interminable amount of time recovering from the wounds that those vile little half-humans had inflicted on him. It was infuriating.

Oh, there were no physical wounds on his flesh, no scarring such as that he had inflicted on one of the traitors; the scar that Slade bore on his face was a point of pride for him, and he only regretted the fact that he hadn't been able to mark Saber in the same manner.

His armor, however, had been broken; the facial covering shattered, a lens missing, and the organic circuitry exposed for all to see. And while it was true that he could have easily been healed of such a thing within the teknopod itself, he would still remember the damage that had been inflicted on him by the traitor Slade. He would remember, and thus seeing his own armored face, whole and unmarked, would feel like a mockery to him.

That was why he had left before the cosmetic damage to his armor had been repaired.

Leaning against the large organic structures that held the teknopods, his armor gone and his right hand cupping the right side of his face, Gunnar breathed steadily as he again considered how, precisely, he would revenge himself on the traitor twins and thus salve his wounded pride. It would not be an incidental challenge, but there were things that he had learned while he was being shaped into a proper servant of the glorious Radam empire. More specifically, something particularly interesting.

A thing that, if he could lay his hands on enough, would provide him with a superb advantage in the next battle; and, if he could arrange things right, might even grant him the final victory over the traitorous twins.

(My Lord Darkon?)

(Yes?)

(I was wondering if you would be willing to provide me with some material assistance?)

00101001

They had finished breakfast without running into anyone they'd known very well, and so hadn't ended up getting drawn into any conversation that neither of them had been in the mood for, but he really should have known better than to expect it to last. He and Saber just weren't that lucky.

"Hey, boys," Ringo greeted cordially, as if he hadn't just basically admitted to being fully willing – and even ready – to kill them if the situation ever called for it.

Now, it wasn't as if he was begrudging Ringo his commitment to his friends and to the Earth in general, since he wasn't stupid enough not to realize how dangerous he and Saber would have been if they were ever made to side with the Radam, but knowing that you were speaking to your own potential assassin was bound to make any sane person uneasy. Still, there was no sense in antagonizing the man, even in spite of all the obvious pleasure that Ringo had taken in doing such a thing to them back in the early days, when they were still trying to find their places among the Space Knights. Or rather, when they were trying not to find them.

"Well, since it seems I'm a bit too late to sit down and have breakfast with you boys, how about we all head down to the gym and try to work off some of that extra weight you've both been putting on?" he suggested, gently poking Saber in the abdomen with the kind of teasing smile that Slade usually only associated with his younger twin.

(Am I crazy, or is Ringo actually trying to be nice?) Saber asked, sounding about as bewildered as Slade himself felt.

(It's your kind of nice, even,) he said, still a bit off-balance; their talk from last night was still fresh in his mind.

"I don't believe it," Ringo said, looking from him to Saber with an incredulous grin. "You're actually doing the 'twin' thing," he laughed.

"What?" he asked, nearly at the same time as Saber did; that only made Ringo laugh harder, for some weird reason or other.

"Never mind; never mind," the blond said, obviously working to get himself back under control. "I guess it makes sense, what with you two actually being twins and all. Anyway, seriously this time, do you guys want to head down to the gym with me?"

They didn't have any really pressing engagements elsewhere, and they probably would have headed down there eventually anyway, if only to keep their minds off of… all of the other things they could have been thinking about. So, with a quick look at Saber to see what he thought of the idea – which made Ringo snicker again, for some unfathomable reason – he turned his attention back to Ringo.

"All right," he said, waiting until the man had regained most of his composure. "Lead the way."

"Right," Ringo said, looking amusedly from him to Saber and back again. "On it."

11010101

"So, Gunnar, you wish to return to active duty?"

"Yes, Lord Darkon," he said, kneeling before the great Warlord's throne once again. He had explained his plan, and detailed what he would require to carry it out, and yet he was not entirely certain that his Lord would give him what he needed. It was absurd; the traitors were a threat to everything they were planning, and thus it was only sensible that every one of their resources be dedicated to the elimination of those worthless half-creatures, and yet he still felt uneasy.

"You have recovered from your wounds?"

"I have," he said; could it be that which was making him uneasy? The thought that his Lord would be unwilling to allow him to return to his hunt for the traitors if he did not appear to be in perfect form?

"Are you sure?" he felt the ancient weight of the Warlord's gaze settling fully on him. "I see your face is still disfigured."

He seethed momentarily at the reminder, and then shoved his anger aside; there would be ample time to revenge himself on the true authors of his disfigurement later, he would see to that. "I left it that way, to remind me of my defeat at the hands of Slade."

"Slade, and his traitorous twin brother," Darkon added, having evidently realized that where one went, the other was not likely to be far behind. "Are no longer your concern."

"What?" he breathed; it had to have been this, what he had been so uneasy about. Still, even if he had to argue with his Lord, then so be it; he would not be denied his vengeance. "But sir, you must allow me to terminate them. You must!"

"Ah, revenge," Lord Darkon said, seeming to savor the word. "So that's your motivation. Very well, I shall give you another chance to finish them. Do not fail me this time."

I will not be defeated so easily a second time, he vowed, as Darkon's signature teleportation enveloped him. He knew where the most important elements of this plan that he had been forming were stored, and now all that remained was to gather them. And then to begin laying the foundations of a trap that would cripple the traitors permanently.

And, with any luck, would finally enable him to kill them.

00010010

Feeling a familiar sense of tired satisfaction, the kind that athletes and martial artists both shared, Slade smiled slightly. It was strange to think about, the fact that he had been with Ringo for two-and-a-half hours without feeling the urge to punch the other man in the face, but Ringo actually seemed to be making an effort to get along with them. Time would tell how long it would last, but he would make it a point to enjoy it.

The alarm, this time he recognized it as the 'general-alert' right away, went off and he chuckled. They were all lucky that the alarm hadn't started blaring five minutes earlier, or else he would have been in the middle of a shower.

(Everyday's the same thing, eh brother?) Saber's sardonic amusement came through clearly over their link, and Slade found that he couldn't help a little teasing of his own.

(At least I know I'll be decent for the meeting,) he retorted. (You said that you were going to be taking a long, hot shower, and we both know what that means.)

(As it just so happens, brother, I got out a couple minutes ago,) Saber pointed out, with a certain degree of smugness. (My hair might still be a bit damp, but I'll still be making the meeting.)

(Yes, I'm sure you'll look very dignified, standing in the comm. center with a damp towel wrapped around your head,) Slade chuckled.

(Remind me to smack you when we meet up in the hall.)

(Remind me to forget you asked me that,) he shot back, grinning; he'd really missed this, and Saber was clearly making up for lost time, too.

(I hate you,) Saber said, so flatly it couldn't be anything but a joke.

Slade grinned. (Yes, and I love you, too, little brother.)

Leaving his room at last, Slade eventually caught up to Saber in the halls. And, just as he'd been expecting, Saber tried to smack him on the back of the head. Dodging, Slade tried to flick Saber's nose when he got close enough. His brother dodged likewise, and the two of them shared grins.

Running his fingers through his damp, disordered hair, as the two of them started making for the comm. center at a quick clip, Saber was clearly regaining his composure. Breathing out, Slade gathered his. They'd been having fun, but now wasn't likely to be the time for fun; comm. center alerts usually only meant one thing: the Radam were moving again.

110100101

When the Wonder Twins made their way into the comm. center, looking about as stoic as ever, Ringo found himself envying their composure at the same time that the wondered if there was anything behind it. Still, now wasn't really the time to think about what their superheroes might or might not really be thinking about.

"If anyone is receiving this, please help!" begged the man's voice on the transmission, the one that one of the radio-operators had picked up. "Please rescue us! Trapped in Chem. Plant number six! Can't hold out much longer! Spider-crabs are-!"

The transmission went to static suddenly, and Commander Jamison signaled for the nearest comm. tech to turn it off. Those words pretty much killed any lingering good mood in the air.

"This transmission was just picked up on an emergency band," the Commander said seriously, sweeping them all with his pinkish gaze. "That chemical plant is in the Space Ring."

"That means there are still survivors there," Star pointed out, sounding almost hopeful.

"Do you really think so?" Tina burst out.

"There are a lot of places to hide up there," he said, smiling. "It's a big place, you know."

The twins couldn't have checked all of it, and humans were more clever than even some of their own kind often gave them credit for. Besides, it was another chance to spit in the eye of the Radam and all their Teknomen, stealing their victims right out from under them. Of course, blowing them into space dust was a good way to do that, too.

But then, that was what the Wonder Twins were for.

"I'm sending you on a rescue mission," the Commander said; he would have been the first to suggest such a thing, if the Commander hadn't beaten him to it. "We cannot allow any of our people to fall into the hands of the aliens."

"If the Spider-crabs didn't find them, then how are we supposed to?" Star asked, while Slade and Saber were busy doing the twin thing again.

"Do whatever it takes," the Commander said. "But, those survivors must not be abandoned. I want the Blue Earth made ready for immediate take-off."

"Yes, sir!" all of them answered at once; even the Wonder Twins, which was kind of funny when you thought about it.

10100101

They all left the comm. center together, and she turned back to look at the twins. The both of them seemed to be off in their own little world, but every so often one of them would look up as if to check that they were still heading in the right direction. Ringo said that they were just 'doing the twin thing', and that she shouldn't worry too much about it. She didn't think even he knew what he actually meant when he said that, so she opted to ignore him and keep periodically looking back to check on the twins.

They were all heading to the Blue Earth, there to make their way to the Space Ring so they would be able to rescue those poor, brave people who had escaped from the Radam only to be confronted by their vicious Spider-crabs.

Once they were all safely onboard the Blue Earth, Mac informed them that there would be a two-minute delay while he finished the repairs to the Blue Earth's hull. Not wanting them to have any more problems than what the Radam would be all-too-willing to provide for them, Star sat back and waited. The twins seemed to be kind of edgy about something, but then they were going into a probable battle with the Radam's seemingly endless hordes of Spider-crabs, so that was only to be expected.

When they were given the green light to launch, the powerful rumble of the engines gave her a few moments of calm and comfort. Just hold on out there, whoever you are; we'll be there for you soon. They soon cleared the last of the atmosphere, and she set about her navigational duties in earnest. It might have fallen to the twins to save them from any of the Radam's creatures that might try to attack them, and to Ringo to fly the ship, but it was up to her to guide the Blue Earth safely on its way.

"I wonder how many of our people were able to survive the attack," she mused, not entirely aware that she had been speaking aloud until Ringo responded.

"It's strange that we didn't hear an S.O.S. before this," Ringo said. "They've been up there for quite awhile."

"You're right. It is strange," she said, looking back at him for a moment before turning her attention back to the navcomp. "But the message implied that there were a lot of them."

"I doubt that," Slade said, his expression clearly dubious.

"Didn't you hear that message?!" Ringo demanded, and Star herself wondered how Slade could be so callous. "There are people trapped up there in the Space Ring!"

"I suppose it's a possibility, but it doesn't seem very likely," Slade said, folding his arms behind his head. He looked relaxed, but there was an intensity in his eyes when he looked toward the Space Ring that she didn't know quite how to interpret.

"What are you trying to say, Slade?" Ringo entreated. "That we're wasting our time?"

"No," Slade said firmly. "There's something that Saber and I still have to take care of."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Ringo asked, and she was about as curious as he was.

"Look, if we're right, Ringo, and there are no survivors, than who do you think sent that message?"

"Wait, you don't think that the Radam are involved in this? Do you?" she implored, not liking the ominous tone of Slade's words.

"Well, if you're going to set a trap, what better to use than live bait?"

Saber's contribution to their conversation didn't make her feel any better about the situation they might be heading into; if anything, his words were more ominous than Slade's. The rest of their journey to the Space Ring was made in a tense sort of silence, not something she was entirely fond of, but the voice that broke the silence didn't improve the general mood at all.

"If anyone can hear me, please help! Please rescue us! Is there anyone out there?! Come in! Come-!"

"The transmission's been cut off, Ringo!" she reported.

"Someone else must've gotten to him first," Ringo said grimly. A brief look passed between Saber and Slade; both of them looked wary, but resigned to heading inside to take a look. "Run a scan for the nearest docking port, Star."

She quickly did so. "Port Six," she reported. "Just two clicks to starboard."

"Blue Earth, Blue Earth," Tina said, appearing just after she had deactivated the navcomp screen. "We just lost the signal from the Space Ring. Are you still tracking?"

"It was cut off," she reported. "We're just about to go in."

"Be careful," Tina advised.

"We will," she said, smiling at the younger Space Knight's concern.

As Ringo guided the ship closer to their ultimate destination, Star began to notice something wrong. "Hold on, Ringo! The airlock isn't responding."

"Yeah, well, I know the secret knock," he said; she only had a half a moment to wonder just what in the heck he thought he was doing, before Ringo fired the Blue Earth's laser cannons, and dropped them down into the air lock.

That was bound to cause them some problems when they wanted to debark, but for now, she honestly couldn't think of any other way that they would have been able to get inside the Space Ring to be able to help the people who had been trapped up there by the Radam and their monsters. She didn't want to give into the pessimism that the twins had so obviously developed over their time fighting the Radam, and Ringo clearly wasn't willing to, either.

01000101

As they all made their way to the airlock to get some EVA suits, so they wouldn't have trouble breathing and not exploding from the pressure differences and stuff, Ringo took a moment to consider the Wonder Twins. They were being all grim and serious, as if they really believed that this was all some kind of Radam trick. Now, there was such a thing as healthy skepticism, but this was verging into all-out paranoia.

He'd have to find a way to lighten the mood; paranoia wouldn't do any of them any good.

As they trooped out the exit, with the small bit of weirdness that came from feeling your own footsteps rather than hearing them, Ringo saw Slade and Saber doing the twin thing again: a single look passed from one of them to the other, and the other ducked his head in something that was obviously meant to be shorthand for a nod.

"You two stay here," Slade said, his helmet still clutched under his arm; Saber was already putting his own helmet on and getting it fitted snugly. "Saber and I will go in there on our own."

"What're you talking about, Slade?" he demanded; he'd almost expected this, but that didn't mean he was going to go along with it. "I'm going with you."

"Darkon could sent his crabs against us at any time, and my brother and I are the only ones here equipped to handle that," Slade said, not turning around to look at him; it was as if he was already halfway down the main corridor, confronting whatever it was that was making him and Saber so jumpy.

"Going in with only one person as backup doesn't make any sense," he said; granted, the two of them were just about the most powerful fighting force that the world had ever seen, but there was no way he was letting on that he thought that.

"You can't go out there with so little backup!" Star exclaimed.

Listen to the lady, kids; she's got more sense than the three of us put together, he didn't say; it was tempting, though.

"There's nothing to worry about," Slade said, calmly enough that it was all Ringo could do not to roll his eyes at the kid; he really hated dealing with the self-sacrificing types. "Just stay here and be prepared to lift off."

"You know, I didn't join the Space Knights to be a glorified chauffeur," he said, smirking slightly. "But, if you boys want to keep taking all the risks, be my guest."

"Thanks," Saber's voice sounded kind of funny, coming from both his small comm. and from under his helmet where it was slightly muffled. "We'll be sure to write you a nice letter of recommendation."

"But you boys listen: be sure to leave your comm. channels open, so we know what's going on in there," Star said firmly.

"Don't worry, we will," Slade said calmly.

"And Slade," he said, after shooting Saber an amused glance; that'd been a good one. "If you run into any evil Teknomen, tell them they'd better behave themselves, or your chauffeur will run them over."

The Wonder Twins disappeared from his sight without another word, off into the recesses of the Space Ring to find the survivors of the Radam's constant offensives, but he thought he might have heard Saber chuckle.

"That wasn't funny," Star snapped.

"Oh, so you're a critic now?" he asked, giving her a mock-incredulous look.

111001010

As the two of them moved down the long, empty halls of the Space Ring, passing the evidence of the Radam's constant attacks, Slade felt the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach deepening steadily.

(Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.)

(Sound advice, brother mine,) Saber responded, as the two of them continued on their way to their intended destination, sweeping the corridor with their helmet-lights as they went.

There were times when it was fine to just rely on their enhanced senses, but as unlikely as he found it, there still might be a chance that they would be picking up human survivors from Chem. Plant no. 6. And, if that was the case, they wanted the people to be able to see them when they came. Even though the thought of he and his brother wearing great, big, radiating beacons on their heads gave him the cold shakes whenever he thought too much about it.

They'd be lit up all nice and bright if Gunnar decided to pay them a visit, and they were bound to suffer for it.

"Slade," Star's voice came in loud and clear over the comm., just the way it was intended to; it probably hadn't been intended to startle the hell out of him, but he was wound tightly enough that intent didn't matter so much in that case. "What's happening in there?"

"Slade's a little busy freaking out right now," Saber said flippantly; Slade poked him in the shoulder for that. "But anyway, we're right outside the Chem. Plant. No signs of life at all, so far."

"Copy that," she said. "Be careful, you two."

"Don't worry," Saber said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll make sure my brother stays out of trouble."

(You suck,) he said, rolling his eyes as Star and even Ringo started laughing over the comm.

(And I love you, too, big brother,) Saber said, giving him a sidelong look; he just knew that Saber was smirking at him behind that breather mask.

Opening the door in front of them manually, since this like pretty much all the other sections of the Space Ring was without power, Slade took a deep breath to steady himself. He could feel Saber straightening up beside him. This wasn't the time for playing around; not anymore.

"Hello!" he shouted to the empty room; the shattered tanks on either side of them were eerily reminiscent of… things he'd rather not think about. "Is there anyone here? Call out if you can hear me!"

"Don't worry!" Saber called, pitching his voice to carry through the room. "We've been sent from Earth to help you! We have a ship! If you'll follow us, we can get you evacuated!"

There was no response to either of them; the uneasy feeling that had been settled in his stomach began to creep up the back of his spine. This didn't feel right; nothing about this felt right. It was like there was something he was being forced not to see; something almost like the sense he always had of Saber, only…

He couldn't sense it, not at all, he could only tell where it wasn't.

"There's no answer," he reported, after three minutes exactly; built-in chronometers were a wonderful thing. "I'm going to run an atmospheric check now." Looking at the mix of gasses, and their present volume, he raised his eyebrows slightly. "Breathable."

He and Saber both removed their helmets, and he took a deep breath of the air. It was cold, and a bit stale, but that was probably all he could expect, considering the circumstances. Looking around at the room with his unfiltered eyesight, Slade found he couldn't quite suppress a shudder of distaste; the ship, our ship- clenching his jaw, he forced that thought back down into the recesses of his subconscious where it belonged.

(You holding up all right, brother?) he felt Saber's right hand on his lower arm, squeezing gently; just the kind of anchor he needed.

(I will be,) he said, reaching over to rub the back of Saber's hand. (Just… memories.)

(Yeah; I know.)

They stayed like that for a few seconds, each taking comfort from the other in this strange-but-uncomfortably-familiar place, before they started moving forward again. Their clasped hands giving the both of them something to hold onto. Slade was glad for it, and he knew that Saber was, too.

"Is anyone in here? Call out if you can hear me!" he repeated. "We're here to help you!"

010100010

Ah, here they were at last; so predictable, always playing the gallant heroes. It seemed all too appropriate that they had fallen in with humans who called themselves Knights. Letting loose a small tendril of thought, right into the link that all Teknomen shared with one another, he watched in amusement as Slade's mouth fell open, and Saber slammed his feet into the floor in an effort to bring his forward momentum to a complete stop.

It was terribly amusing, the way their hands each tightened on the other's, as if they were trying to lend strength to their feeble, incomplete forms through something as prosaic as physical contact; it was cute, and pathetic, and so utterly, utterly futile.

Moving forward again, now and then sending out spikes of his own awareness to skitter across their shared link, keeping the little half-creatures off-balance, and just generally entertaining himself, he continued on his course to the appointed stage. It would soon come time for him to reveal himself, and thus the trap that he had so perfectly constructed, but for the moment he would amuse himself by toying with his unknowing prey. Vengeance was a thing best savored, long and slow.

"Who's there?" the little scarred traitor demanded, after he had given a particularly harsh shove to their mental link; he laughed at the expressions he would no doubt see on their faces, judging by the emotions he was sensing from them.

"Thanks for coming, Slade," he said, turning and grinning down at the little traitors from the control board he was standing atop. "And Saber, of course. It's not as if you'd ever leave your precious little brother behind."

"Gunnar," the scarred traitor snarled.

"What? No pleasant hellos?" he mocked. "Yes, I'd imagine there wouldn't be; you two probably thought that I was long dead, wasn't that it?" he bared his teeth in something that could almost be mistaken for a grin. "Such a shame, isn't it? That old friends should come to this."

"So, there weren't any survivors, were there?" the other traitor demanded, his blue eyes snapping with amusing, impotent fury.

"Oh, anything's possible, I suppose," he shrugged indifferently; what should he care for the affairs of insects? "But I wouldn't count on it. Especially after I get rid of you two."

"You were the one who sent that S.O.S., weren't you?" the scarred traitor demanded.

"Why, naturally," he said; he'd even recorded it just for them and their little human pets, but he wasn't about to start off on any irrelevant tangents. He had prolonged this farce for as long as he desired; it was time to end it. "After all, it was the easiest way to get you two here, wasn't it? But you won't be here for long!"

Raising his teknocrystal, the key to his own, complete transformation, Gunnar willed the metamorphosis to happen; the little traitors called out to him once, but he ignored them. Once his armor had fully enclosed him, and his wound was visible for all to see, he turned his attention back to the traitors. He would do them the honor of telling them why they were to die this day; not only for betraying their master and abandoning their proper place in the universe, such a thing might have been forgiven if they had just been intelligent enough to surrender themselves once it had become clear that they were not where they truly belonged, but after this… he would not forgive them this insult.

"You see my face?" he demanded. "The disfigurement you left me with? Now you shall pay for it!"

Raising his hand to the ceiling, where he had carefully placed cluster upon cluster of spectrum-disrupter crystals, setting the stage where he would see the traitors suffer and die for their betrayal, he felt nothing more than a slight, momentary tingle as the energies washed over him. And even this was more than either of the traitors would feel.

At least until the time came.

010010100

When Gunnar had made that stupid-looking, overly-dramatic gesture at the ceiling, Saber had almost expected that something would actually happen. Still, Gunnar seemed to be a little addle-brained from what he'd gone through after Slade had knocked him down for the count. Seriously, complaining about injuries that could only be seen in his armored form, and that could have been healed in a few hours by a teknopod?

What a moron. Sure, Fr-he could be more than a bit vain sometimes, but that had been mostly a joke. Still, he sounded like he obviously meant it now, so they would have to deal with him. Even if his reason for fighting them was unbearably stupid.

"Tekno-power!" he and Slade shouted together, just like they always did.

Unfortunately, that was the only thing that went the way it always did. The next few minutes – a subjective eternity – were filled with the kind of pain that Saber thought he had left behind when he'd escaped from that damned teknopod. Hearing Slade's screams from just in front of him certainly didn't make Saber feel any better about his situation. The pain; it was like being skinned with a cheese grater, and then submerged in some kind of acid solution.

His throat felt raw from screaming, by the time the pain subsided and he found himself lying prone on the floor of the Chem. Plant. His burning lungs demanded air, and Saber took in as much of it as his raw throat would allow.

"It's no use," Gunnar all but cackled. "I've planted spectrum-disrupter crystals all around us. Which as you have both no doubt realized, render your crystals quite useless."

"What've you done?" Slade demanded; Saber spared a sympathetic thought for the rawness in his brother's voice.

"I've beaten you!" Gunnar sounded entirely too gleeful about that. "I've finally beaten you! But it's far from over, my little traitors; I'll see you both dead at my feet before this day is done!"

Saber thought for a moment that he could hear something crackling, like ice chipping or something, but the sight of Gunnar's glowing arrow so very, very close to where he and his brother were both lying almost helpless wiped those thoughts right out of his mind. Leaping up from the floor, just as Gunnar fired, Saber felt Slade grab hold of his arm and pull him out of the reach of the explosion.

After that, it was like one long, intermittent, horizontal rainstorm. Only the raindrops were replaced by Gunnar's exploding ninja-needles, and if they caught one of those things anywhere, they were going to get worse than wet. A lot worse.

"Go ahead and run, traitors," Gunnar taunted. "You can't run forever."

Another one of his arrows buzzed past their legs, and Slade yanked him out of its path and into a dark, confined space under the cover of the smoke and flying debris from the explosion. He didn't know quite what Slade was thinking, but when Gunnar flew right past their hiding place without a word or a look back, Saber allowed himself to breathe more freely. They weren't safe, not so long as Gunnar was still loose in the Space Ring with them, and not when they were still beneath so many of Gunnar's disrupter-crystals, but they were in less immediate danger than they had been.

(Saber, let me see your crystal,) Slade said suddenly, turning his attention away from the disrupter-crystals that hung above them like malevolent chandeliers.

(All right, brother, but what was it you wanted to-) Trailing off once he had actually had a chance to look at the key to his own transformation, Saber saw the semi-long crack running up the center of it. (Oh; that's not good.)

(Saber,) Slade's eyes darted from Saber's own eyes to the teknocrystal in his hands. (Do you think you could put it back?)

(Maybe…) He concentrated, and the crystal in his hands vanished to wherever it was that their crystals stayed when they weren't being held.

(Good. And,) Slade looked up at him, right into his eyes; mind-to-mind like this, it was almost all he needed. Almost. (I really don't want you trying that again,) he said in a rush. (Not until I know it's safe. I don't want to hear you screaming like that again, little brother.)

(And you think hearing you screaming was a picnic for me?) he asked, looking back into Slade's green eyes with the same intensity that Slade was trying to use on him.

(It's different for you,) Slade said. (I can't watch you suffer like that, I'm not strong enough.)

(What're you talking about?)

(I can't risk losing you,) Slade said, his mental tone somehow quieter, or maybe it was just more subdued. When Slade laid his forehead on Saber's shoulder, he was surprised by the gesture; neither of them had done that kind of thing since they were kids. (I'm not… strong enough.)

(All right, brother,) he said, reaching out to wrap his arms around Slade, and gently stroking his brother's hair. (All right.)

"Slade? Saber?" Star's voice over the comm, the first voice he'd heard in some time that wasn't either telepathic or belonging to someone that wanted to kill him, was a welcome relief. "Come in, please."

"Go ahead, Star," Slade said, sounding as calm as he ever did. It was something they'd both learned to do, and it was important that they keep doing it; they'd never have any peace otherwise.

"Are you two all right? What's going on in there?"

"We're safe, for now," Slade reported, while Saber himself kept a lookout for Gunnar; speaking out loud like this, there was a better-than-average chance that the Radam Teknoman would be able to find them. "But Gunnar could find us at any moment."

He didn't know what he would do if that happened, what he could do without his armor to protect him, but he would at least do something.

"Has he injured either of you?" she asked.

"No," Slade reported, after a moment of hesitation that only Saber was equipped to understand; they might not have been injured physically, but… "But he's keeping us from transforming."

"What?" Ringo demanded. "How could he do that?"

"By using spectrum-disrupter crystals," Slade reported; Saber tensed as a shadow passed by their hiding place, but it turned out to be nothing more than his eyes playing tricks on him, so he relaxed. "They're all over the space station; we're going to head outside."

"No, don't!" Star exclaimed.

"Negative," Ringo said, sounding like he was giving an order. "Both of you get back to the ship, pronto."

"We'll be safe once we transform," Slade explained calmly. "But to do that, Saber and I have to get outside the hull, and away from all these crystals. That's the only way either of us has a chance of taking out Gunnar."

(Slade-!) he tried to warn his brother, but Gunnar grabbed him by the hair and dragged him out of their not-so-hidden-hiding place and threw him to the ground before he could get out another word.

"Here you are," Gunnar said, his attention obviously focused on Slade.

Bracing his arms against the deck, Saber started to turn himself over, to try to do… whatever he could against a fully-armored Teknoman. But then, before he could even get to his knees, Gunnar kicked him over onto his back and pinned him there with his foot. A foot pressed against his throat, no less; as he gagged, trying to breathe past the armored foot crushing his throat, Saber activated his comm.

Even if he couldn't do anything meaningful against Gunnar, he could at least let Star and Ringo know what was going on between them.

"Put me down!" Slade demanded.

"Oh, you're going down, all right!" Gunnar exclaimed. "Both of you! For humiliating me! And for betraying Darkon!"

10100010

When he felt the comm. break in his hand, after Gunnar had thrown him against the far wall, Slade could only hope that Ringo and Star had the sense not to make any more transmissions. Saber's commlink was the only one still intact; the only connection either of them had to the Blue Earth anymore, and to a way back to Earth itself. Shaking off the minor disorientation from his harsh stop, he opened his eyes to see Saber struggling in Gunnar's grip, trying in vain to pry that armored hand off his neck.

What was worse, though, was the sight of Gunnar with the sharp point of his double-ended bow drawn forward, obviously preparing to drive it into Saber's head.

Running as fast as he could, Slade body-slammed Gunnar from the side. He was quickly back-handed for his efforts, something he'd been expecting, but at least he'd made Gunnar let go. That was all he'd really had in mind; all he could really do at the moment.

000100101

He'd heard Saber struggling and gagging, and then a sudden grunt from Slade, followed closely by the sound of something soft being slammed into a metal wall. He'd also heard the Wonder Twins' conversation with Gunnar; that guy was obviously off his nut, and just as obviously violently homicidal.

"Slade's commlink signal just cut out," Star said, just after she'd switched off their end of the connection to Saber's comm.; no sense in letting Gunnar know that they were still eavesdropping on his little party.

"I know," he muttered, though he was still more concerned about those "spectrum disrupter" crystals that Slade had mentioned in his report. "All right, let's get going!"

"No!" Star shouted. "Not without them!"

"Didn't you hear what Slade said, Star?" he asked; there'd obviously been some miscommunication between the two of them. "He said that he and Saber could fight, if they could just get outside the outer shell of the station. Get a fix on Saber's comm." he said, activating the laser cannons and letting them charge up. "We're going to use a few blasts from the laser cannons to help get them where they want to go. Firing thrusters," he reported; at least now they'd be able to do something to help.

He could tell that Star hated this forced idleness almost as much as he did.

010100010

With his arm wrapped around Saber's waist, pulling his brother along as he got his wind back after that near-strangulation he'd just been put through, Slade felt the heat of Gunnar's exploding needles as they passed uncomfortably close to his back. Shifting his brother a bit, Slade put his own body between Saber and exploding projectiles behind them. Even in spite of the fact that he knew Saber wouldn't be happy with him for doing it.

He was just in time too; one of the projectiles drove itself into his back just as he had gotten Saber out of harm's way. Throwing his brother forward so he wouldn't land on him, Slade fell prone to the floor.

(Slade, you self-sacrificing, pin-headed goon!)

"Taking a break already, Slade?" Gunnar mocked.

(Saber, get to the door!) he shouted over their link. (I'll be right behind you.)

(You're damn right you will be, older brother,) Saber snapped back, turning and heading right back for him.

Gunnar kept up a barrage of deadly projectiles, and even fired a couple arrows; Saber dodged and ducked them, a look of fierce, implacable determination on his face. Slade could respect that, he would have done just the same in another situation like this, but he still worried. Neither of them had their armor now; they were as vulnerable as any normal human who'd had the misfortune to get on the wrong side of a Radam Teknoman.

"It's time to end this little farce."

He could hear Gunnar chuckling behind them, and when he looked back over his shoulder, he saw that the evil Teknoman was standing with one of his glowing, exploding arrows at the ready.

(Saber! Forward! Now!)

Moving in synch with his brother, they managed to make it to and out the door in front of them, letting it close just before the arrow exploded against them. He and Saber held onto each other as they rode out the explosion, and he felt the boots of his insulated EVA suit warm slightly. He was just glad that his and Saber's heads had been far enough away from the blast that their hair hadn't caught fire.

Free now of the threat of Gunnar, something he doubted would be for very long but he was thankful for the reprieve all the same, he breathed a little easier.

(It doesn't look like we're going to be able to transform out here, either,) Saber groused.

He almost asked why that was, but then he looked up, and had to bite back some creative profanity: there were clusters of softly glowing disrupter-crystals all along the ceiling of the hallway they were in.

"Oh, fuck me!"

Looking up at Saber's sudden shout, Slade was tempted to do some swearing of his own: right in front of them was a Spider-crab. Just one, but with no way to transform, one was all Gunnar needed. Dodging out of the way of a sudden spray of venom, he and then Saber vaulted over the thing's head. Fortunately for them, the hallway they were in was tight enough quarters that the Spider-crab couldn't follow them.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite tight enough to stop the thing turning its head to spit at them as they passed; they were quick enough to dodge it, but it was still more bad luck that he could have easily done without.

Their best chance of getting out of this crab-infested death-trap that Gunnar had made for them was to get to one of the air locks and from there to get outside. They both knew it, even without having to take the time to discus it. Which was a good thing, too, since time seemed to be in short supply right now; at least for them, which was a depressingly common situation these days.

"Slade? Saber? Do you read me?"

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear a friendly voice, Star," Saber said, with genuine relief in his voice; it was something Slade noticed, but he kind of doubted anyone else would.

"I think I could hazard a guess," she said, with a soft chuckle. "What's been going on? I haven't heard Gunnar threatening you lately. Did you manage to lose him?"

"Yeah, but unfortunately we managed to find some Spider-crabs along the way," he heard Saber say, as he himself continued to watch their backs.

They were still moving as Saber spoke, of course, but there was always a chance that they would be spotted.

"Do you need any help?" Star asked, Slade smiled; it was good to have friends on the outside.

"Just the location of the nearest air lock," he heard Saber say calmly, even as he himself kept alert for any more Spider-crabs that might be trying to get the drop on them.

In this case, you could never be too careful when facing Spider-crabs; this was probably how normal people felt all the time. Before Star could say anything else, though, their infamously capricious luck turned against them once again. A pair of Spider-crabs burst into the corridor where they'd been standing just four minutes before, shrieking their eerie, mindless battlecries, and skittering on their pointed legs with no feet.

Without even a word to his brother, the both of them took off running.

"Sorry to cut you off like this, Star," Saber said, holding the comm. up to his face as they kept running. "But we've got company; talk to you later!"

"Sab-!" Star's voice went to silence as Saber turned off his comm., and they kept running.

They always seemed to be running, lately.

One of the Spider-crabs started spitting at them right away, the sticky streams of venom coming thicker and faster than they had the last time. When Saber yelped suddenly, thankfully sounding more surprised than anything else, Slade turned to look back over his shoulder. Saber had been stuck to the wall by his right arm, and was trying to pull loose even as he watched.

Grabbing his younger brother by the shoulders, Slade helped him to brace his feet against the flooring underneath them, and they both yanked as hard as they could. Saber's arm came loose with a sound almost like cloth tearing, and both of them looked at Saber's right arm even as they scrambled to get out of the way of the pursuing Spider-crabs. Nothing had been torn; a good thing, that, since they were going to be leaving the relative safety of the Space Ring's contained atmosphere, and Saber had been holding his helmet in his left hand.

The helmet itself was still there, but there was still an expression of mild annoyance on his brother's face.

"Well, so much for finding out what Star actually wanted," Saber muttered, as they continued on their way through the mazelike corridors of the Space Ring.

"What do you mean, Saber?"

"My comm.'s back there under all that goop," his brother said, rolling his eyes as they continued down the corridor at a fairly good clip. "I was going to contact Star, try to find out what it was that she was going to tell us before those Spider-crabs decided to interrupt, but I guess that's right out."

"Luck," he groused, shaking his head in irritation.

"Our luck, eh brother?" Saber asked with a chuckle.

Slade just rolled his eyes.

Finally they came in sight of one of the air locks, marked as it was by red letters that spelled out its designation, and it was with a profound sense of relief that he pulled Saber through the armored doors and heard them close behind them. Falling to the floor on his hands and knees, he could just hear his brother panting from the same exhaustion that he'd only now let catch up to him. They didn't have much time to catch their breath, of course; there was still a Spider-crab on the other side of that door, and it was only a matter of time before it managed to batter its way through.

They could both hear it trying, even then.

"Here goes," he heard Saber say, and looked over to see his brother standing in front of the air lock's control panel.

Putting on his helmet, since he didn't want to be caught without it when the air lock began to cycle open, he turned back to look at Saber. His brother had already put his own helmet back on, so there was no need for him to worry about telling him to, so he just walked over and patted his brother on the shoulder.

(Seems to be working, but it's a little slow,) Saber said, obviously tense as he looked from the Spider-crab-assaulted doors to the controls for the air lock.

(Like you said before: our luck,) he muttered, turning to watch the doors as they began to distort and buckle and warp under the battering that Spider-crab was subjecting them to. (I just hope it's on our side this time, you know?)

(You and me both.)

There was nothing they could do now but wait; wait to see if the air lock would cycle itself open before the Spider-crab on the other side of the doors could batter them down. It wasn't looking particularly good for them, but just as the marauding Spider-crab had managed to stick one of its pointed appendages through a gap it had wedged in the doors, the air lock cycled open and they were able to break out into open space at last. He'd never seen a more welcome sight than the Earth, hanging placidly "below" them.

(Remember, brother: I'll go first,) he said, gripping his teknocrystal like a lifeline. (You transform once I know it's safe.)

(I suppose there's no possible way I can talk you out of doing this, right, brother?)

(No; there isn't,) he said, as he loosened his grip on Saber's hand, and his brother obligingly let him go.

(Just needed to be reminded of that,) Saber groused, seeming to be glaring at nothing in particular. (I'm going to be mad at you when we get back to the Command Center; fair warning.)

(I'll keep that in mind.) Not that it was going to change his mind, but it was nice to be prepared in any case. "Tekno-power!"

Pain. Deep physical agony. Overwhelming all other thoughts except the one: he'd kept his brother safe, and in the end that was all that really mattered.

When the worst of the agony ended and he stopped screaming, Slade found that Saber had maneuvered himself directly in front of him. His brother's hands were pressed against the energy-cage that always surrounded him when he transformed, being held back only by the massive energies that were being poured into his body by the transformation that he was trying to complete. When the Blue Earth buzzed them, moving from one unknown point on the Space Ring to another for some reason that he couldn't even begin to guess at, he found himself and Saber spinning slightly in the wake of their thruster exhaust.

Saber used his thrusters to keep pace, matching the movements that Slade had been forced to make. When a quizzical, vaguely nonplussed expression passed over his brother's face, an expression that was directed at something that seemed to be happening behind him, Slade turned to look back over his shoulder. There were the remains of an explosion there, just starting to clear, and he even thought he could see Gunnar go flying from it.

There was also something missing; it took him a few moments to realize that it was the pain of the transformation trying to force itself that he no longer quite felt. It intensified briefly, leaving him screaming in its wake, but then it seemed to stabilize. He could feel a similar flare of energy from his brother, and he was about to demand just what in the hell Saber thought he was doing, when he realized that he didn't hear Saber screaming.

Looking back at Saber once the last of the coruscating energies had cleared from his vision, he found his brother in full tekno-armor looking back at him.

(We did it,) he said, relief washing over him like a calming wave; he didn't feel quite up to his usual standards, but he supposed that he couldn't really expect anything better. Circumstances being what they were, he supposed he should really be grateful that he didn't fell any worse. He was still glad that he'd managed to spare Saber the worst of it, though.

No matter how angry his brother was with him in the end.

(Let's go deal with Gunnar,) Saber said, and Slade was glad for the distraction; he'd be glad for a little revenge, too.

(Yeah.)

They landed on the Space Ring together, directly in front of Gunnar. He wanted to take that bastard apart one armored piece at a time, not so much for hurting him, though he would have been lying if he said that wasn't a part of it, but for forcing him to watch helplessly as Saber suffered in his trap. There was going to be justice for that; he'd see to it himself.

(You're dead meat, Gunnar!) he snarled.

(So, you actually managed to transform. That won't save you,) Gunnar said, raising his bow.

A large group of Spider-crabs rose up behind him after that, so the gesture must have been some sort of signal to them.

(Saber, dual Tekno-bolt,) he said tersely, focusing on his link to his brother.

(Right.)

As he began the charging process for his main weapon, he could almost feel Saber doing the same just beside him. When they let go, he had just a few moments to feel satisfaction as Gunnar's Spider-crabs were wiped out of existence. Then he caught sight of the Blue Earth.

She was falling down the Earth's gravity-well at a dangerous speed, beginning to trail friction flames as she hit the outermost edges of the planet's atmosphere. There was no way that Ringo would be able to land safely at those speeds, and little enough chance that the Blue Earth herself would be able to survive reentry if he and Saber didn't do something. A look between them was all it took to communicate the urgency of the situation, and in seconds they were blazing through space with their very own thrusters.

Leveling off behind the Blue Earth, he watched as Saber positioned himself in front of the ship and braced his hands against the front of the ship. Digging his own hands into the wing he had positioned himself behind, Slade fired his thrusters in concert with his brother. That Tekno-bolt had wiped out most of his energy, true, but he couldn't ever remember feeling this weak after firing one.

Something had to be wrong; he had to get back inside the ship before things got out of hand.

He was just about to call out to Saber, when he saw a corona of blue energy surround his brother and dart off in the direction of the secondary air lock. Good, he knows, too, Slade just had time to think, before a powerful wave of dizziness washed over him and he was forced to give up his post at the Blue Earth's wing. He could only hope that she and all her passengers would be able to survive.

Once he was inside the air lock, he focused all of his remaining power into maintaining his transformed state, even in spite of the fact that doing so made him feel like he was bleeding energy into the cosmos. The sight of Saber's comatose form on the deck in the air lock both reassured and concerned him at the same time; Saber would get the sleep he so clearly needed, after their attack on Gunnar and all that they had been through before that, but he would have been lying if he said he couldn't have used Saber's help.

Still, Gunnar was probably weak enough that it would take much more to kill him; he could hope, at least.

The cockpit doors parted for him, and he just managed to squeeze his armored shoulders through them. He hadn't given much thought to moving around inside the Blue Earth while he was transformed, but that wasn't something he was going to let himself care about. All that was important now was tracking down Gunnar and ending him, before he could think up any more of his horrible plans to spring on them.

"You should be able to regain control now," he said, hoping it was true.

"Slade, is something wrong?" Star asked, even as he was forced to lean on Ringo's piloting controls in the wake of a sudden, powerful weariness.

"Yeah, pal," Ringo said, looking at him with concern plain on his face. "You've never come barging in here in that suit before. You don't look so hot, either," he continued, and Slade could see him peering closer.

"That's not important," he said, hoping they wouldn't notice the weakness he was starting to feel in earnest. "You have to take me back; Gunnar's still out there."

"Are you nuts?" Ringo demanded.

"That's crazy," Star added; clearly neither of them understood just how dangerous it was to have a Radam Teknoman still able to fight.

"Ringo, turn the ship around!" he pushed his face in close to the other man's. "Now!"

It was crude, trying for the kind of raw intimidation that having a determined, fully-armored Teknoman so close to them would produce in a normal person. But if it worked, he wasn't going to let himself regret it. Better intimidated and alive, than laying back and letting Gunnar hunt them down at his leisure.

"I can't do that," Ringo said, looking away from him. "The reactors are burning up as it is. Hey!" Gripping the man's large collar with his armored hands, Slade found that he could almost respect Ringo for standing up to him like this; almost, but that didn't make hunting down Gunnar even one bit less urgent. "What's wrong with you?! You expect me to sacrifice the Blue Earth just so you can get one guy? You're falling apart as it is, Slade!"

That wasn't important; none of that was important, compared to making sure that Gunnar wouldn't be able to come after them again. Why couldn't they see that?! Gunnar would slaughter all of them if he was left to escape!

"My… crystal!" he shouted, as a wave of pain and disorientation, worse than the three he had felt previously, broke over him like a mirror being shattered against his skull. "It's… damaged… can't… hold… Aaaaagggghhhhh!"

He saw swirling colors; twisting lights; sparks that seemed to explode behind his eyes, and then he found himself kneeling on the floor, staring down at the pitiful remains of his shattered teknocrystal. Panting with exhaustion and terror both, he turned and ran back into the air lock as fast as his feet would carry him. He had to see; he had to know that all he had gone through today hadn't been for nothing in the end.

Falling to his knees beside the unconscious form of his brother, he breathed out as he saw the glitter of his brother's teknocrystal. Gently turning over Saber's hand, he sagged with relief as he saw the whole, unbroken form of his teknocrystal clutched in his younger brother's grip. It was all right; he hadn't failed entirely… god, he was tired…

The air lock darkened, tilting at a crazy angle… and then…