Disclaimer:
These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers
of
Spoilers:
After Chant Down Babylon, changes happening where Max is successfully
rescued, and Michael was the one who broke up with Maria.
Pairings: You’ll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation Guide: Dilkar
(DILL – kar)
dashka (dah – SH – ka)
elkarl (el – KAR –el)
Telbar (Tel – bar)
Holphar (hole – PH - ar)
capaechea (cap – pee – ah – CHI – ah)
kii (K – eye – ee)
Author’s notes: Queen
Fadilia Kedar: Max/Isabel’s mother
King
Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel’s father
Andaria: Tess’ mother
Radim:
Tess’ father
Kedrans: race from which Royal Four descended
Iturians: race from which Khivar descended, and
overthrew and killed Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans: special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly
psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar’s
Jewel: constellation in the Antarian’s
star system
Yun’s
Garment: Aurora Borealis - Northern Lights
Saren Dari: desert plain on
Antar
dashka : good luck charm
elkarl :
Iturian hand weapon
capaechea:
long
haired woolly creature, with long flanks and a large hump on its back
kii: location where
various endangered animals are kept for protection
Chapter Fifty Eight
***
Nothing has more strength than dire necessity.
-
Euripides
***
Kyle
stumbled forward, along with the others, as they were paraded to the forefront
of the throng of soldiers; and everything seemed so surreal to him at the
moment. He clasped Maria's trembling
hand in his as they reached their destination.
The surroundings were familiar; he had been here before.
He
studied the shadowy rock formations and the cliffs that enclosed around
them. The sudden, stark tumultuous skies
that seemed to encroach upon them like a lion stalking its prey, looming over
them as if warning them against the dangers that accompanied their
captors. It sent a chill through him.
A subtle,
but hasty tug caught Kyle's attention, as Maria leaned in close to his
side. "Do you know where we
are?" she said through clenched teeth.
Her eyes darted around the almost imperceptible landscape and its'
familiar landmarks.
Kyle
leaned in and glanced briefly back at the watchful guards, who never let him
and the others stray more than five paces ahead. He nodded and turned his gaze forward, to the
noticeable peak jutting out into the sky, where a warm, soft glow came -
different than from the rolling, rumbling clouds that had followed them from
camp. As he strained his neck forward,
Kyle squinted and tried to make out the pinnacle of Max, Isabel, Michael, and
Tess' hideaway - a location he had always tried to avoid - which oriented him
to their location.
"We're
close to the cave," he whispered, trying to avoid attracting the attention
of the large, intimidating men standing behind them.
A look of
unexpectancy, along with a mixture of relief and fear crossed her smooth, fair
face - her dark defined eyes twitched, unable to decide which emotion to
convey. "So do you think we're
gonna get out of this...without any," she paused, flicking a stray piece
of hair over her shoulder. Maria leaned
over, keeping her eyes on the guards, who were staring at them intently, and
swallowed before finishing her thought.
"You know...alive?"
Her voice trembled at the last word.
Kyle
glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who were huddled together, staring,
awestruck at the events of the past several hours - soon to lead them in an
unexpected, momentous revelation. If Max
was at the cave, as he suspected - since no other explanation would explain the
glow radiating from the hidden cave - then the secret Max and Isabel had been
concealing from their adopted parents would be exposed in mere minutes, whether
by Max's own volition, or by the provocation of the unseen commander of this
legion of men.
Just as
he was about to answer Maria's question, Kyle stumbled - his left shoulder
dropped forward, as his head jerked back, involuntarily; a tall figure loomed
over him, as he turned back to confront whoever had propelled him forward in
such a forceful manner.
"What
are you gonna do?" a deep voice goaded.
Kyle
gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes; as he was about to speak, he felt an
urgent force, wrench his whole body backwards.
Swiftly, he turned to face the aggravating individual, who interrupted the
satisfaction he was about to take.
Maria's eyes stared alarmingly after him, as his heart was pumping
adrenaline into his body causing him to breathe heavily, as if he had just
finished a sprint. Suddenly his heart
slowed, as he realized she was trying to draw his attention to the white haze
that was expanding out towards the army.
"Move!"
one of the guards barked, as if receiving abrupt orders from his
commander. The dark, bulky Hispanic
soldier shoved him forward with the end of his grey metal staff, which many of
the officers carried - no guns in sight.
Kyle
glared at him, as he began slowly moving forward - out into the open desert;
where there was nothing but a few wild, straggly bushes and brittle trees -
while keeping a close eye on Maria and
the Evans', as a few other guards stepped menacingly towards them, causing them
to shrink back and follow suit. When the
soldiers seemed satisfied with their location, they stepped back from Kyle and
the other three. He frowned, as he
glanced behind him, seeing the stoic soldiers standing at attention, several
feet away. It disturbed him.
Something
is up.
~~~
Max
opened his eyes, taking a deep breath, as if he had been holding his breath
unconsciously. He swallowed hard; the
trance he had fallen into had seemed to come out of nowhere. As he surveyed his surroundings, Max found
himself in the same location - overlooking the massive army of men advancing
against him - but his fear had gone.
Tess' words of encouragement, as unexpected as they were, had filled him
with a renewed sense of hope. Max closed
his eyes and took a deep breath - it was not going to be by strength, which he
would take victory from the army of men who stood more than a hundred yards
away. He fell to his knees and looked up
to the unimposing white light that was surfacing from under the veil of grey.
"'I
sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.'"
Max bowed his head and sat back on his
heels. "O Lord, I need you
now. You have brought me to this moment;
I commit this battle, which I wage in Your Name tonight, to you. Only you shall give me success..." His heart neither slowed, nor raced during
this time with God, as he faced the One who had called him, and asked him to
guide his steps and give him victory.
Max took
one last deep breath; before opening his eyes to the same image, which had him
in panic and doubt minutes ago, and seeing with new eyes the glory and triumph
that lay before him. He rested his hands
on his knees and pushed himself up to his feet.
Max stretched out his arms towards the heavens and praised the One who
had promised him victory.
As if in
response to his silent words, the light of the moon pushed through the
billowing grey arms of fog and shone in its resplendent brilliance. Max drank in the warmth that emanated from
the celestial body; like a gift from God, he felt his spirit lifted and
renewed. The God, who created such a
beautiful thing, was about to transform his nearsighted, uninspired mind, body,
and spirit into something new. Just as
his body had been reborn under Antarian hands, now he was about to be reborn,
in Spirit, through the One who made all things good.
Max swept
his arms forward, until his hands were held out straight in front of him, with
his palms facing him. "Come
General." His voice took a
calm, strange lilting rhythm. "I
am no longer afraid. I have embraced the
One who has called me; and He will consume all of you."
~~~
"What
is happening?" the General demanded urgently. "What is going on?"
As he
peered down at his monitor, the General could see a fearless Zan, standing
defiantly, beckoning to him. In his
mind, he could hear Zan's voice taunting him; warning him of his impending
destruction.
'Oh
how the walls of the house of Ituria will crumble.'
The
General closed his mind and blocked out the insane ramblings of the hybrid
king. He shook his head. He has come undone. There was no other explanation for the sudden
confidence that had come upon this inexperienced Antarian and human abomination. He was certain that the full extent of his
powers had not been imbued to him; the Antarian 'Way of Awakening' had always
been upon the eve of the Festival of the New Moons.
"No,"
he muttered to himself. "He is still vulnerable. Whether he remembers how to use his powers or
not - he can still die." The
General called Captain Leisner to his side.
"Advance our men into position.
We will spill his blood on this ungodly land tonight."
~~~
"Liz,
Maria and Kyle are out there!" Jesse cried, spotting them during his
fortieth turn, in what was an anxious pace.
He squinted as a sudden haze began to fall upon the clear vista of the
desert plain. "Where did this smog
come from?"
Liz
rushed to his side, stepping out onto the ledge of the cavern entrance. Her neck strained, as her eyes scanned the
desert terrain for signs of her two best friends. She shook her head in confusion as the smoky
haze hovered inches from the ground, hiding any and all signs of the army, let
alone her helpless friends. "Where
did you see them?" Her voice was
breathy and tense. Liz continued to
strain her eyes, trying to see through the dense smog for any indication that
Jesse had not just been hallucinating things.
"Where were they standing?" she asked tersely.
Jesse
shook his head and straightened his posture.
"You can't see anything through that damn fog!" he declared in
frustration. Closing his eyes, Jesse
took a deep breath and let it out in one loud rush, while running his fingers
through his thick hair. "What the
heck is going on?"
A
sickening feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't seen any sign of Isabel. Although he had only managed a brief glance
at the group of prisoners, Jesse knew that Isabel was not among the strewn
group of disheveled humans, in comparison to the tightly knit companies of
soldiers. Something had happened to her.
“Who was
in the group?” Liz asked fiercely, as she grabbed Jesse by the soldiers, trying
to make him focus on her.
Jesse
stared blankly at Liz.
“Who was
in the group?” Liz repeated more forcefully.
Jesse
blinked a couple of times before his mind seemed to even register her
question. “Uh..um, I saw Maria and Kyle
clearly,” he stammered, while picturing in his mind the miniature figures of
his friends. He closed his eyes and
rubbed his tired lids. “Uh…a-and I think
Isabel’s parents were right behind them.”
Liz
swallowed hard. He hadn’t seen
Isabel. She was sure Jesse was
worried sick about Isabel. This surreal
army of aliens, possessing human bodies, made her skin crawl; but what made
this worse now, was she was unable to see them at all. Her eyes trailed upward. Max had been up on the rocky peak for what
seemed like hours.
Liz was
uncertain of his state of mind. He had
seemed so confident, as he stood overlooking the looming power-driven army and
ordered her to leave his side, but part of her knew he had to be scared – full
of doubt. She couldn’t believe he wanted
to do this alone. Liz ran her fingers
through her hair, which felt course and gritty from the dust and grime within
the cave.
How
could one man be expected to defeat an army?
~~~
Isabel
felt the warm comforting arms leave her side; and as she stared up at the cool,
light airy space where He had met her, a small pinpoint appeared that seemed to
be expanding. She frowned and spun
around, pulling herself up onto her feet.
“What’s happening?” she asked breathlessly.
‘You
have to go now, Isabel.’
Isabel
pulled the straggling clips of her bangs back from her eyes and shook her
head. “What do you mean I have to
leave?” Her heart groaned at the thought of leaving this place of light and
rest. “I don’t want to leave,” she cried
out into the fading light.
‘They
need you.’
Isabel
lowered her head, her brow furrowing in restless thought, and bit her bottom
lip.
They…
Suddenly
a barrage of images and memories came flooding over her: Max’s brooding
expression; she felt his clinging arms wrapped around her as he had told her of
his child’s possible death. She mouthed
regretful words, as rage towards Maxwell filled her entire body, when the
memory of Max’s command for her to remain in
He was
one of them.
Then
once again, Isabel’s body was jarred by another’s face. It was ashen and moist. Long dark lashes defined his otherwise,
strong, yet fair face. His lips were
parted slightly, and he tossed restlessly.
Her slender fingers pressed a cold cloth against his forehead. Unexpectedly, she heard her tortured voice
cry out, ‘He needs me’.
Michael.
Isabel
bit her lip as another memory surfaced from his familiar face. Michael sat across from her with a solemn
face. The words he spoke sent a shiver
throughout her body. ‘You belong with
me.’ Her lips parted, allowing a warm
escape of breath.
He was
another.
Deep
in thought, Isabel was then abruptly jolted from the memories of two of the
most important men in her life. A pair
of blue eyes stared intensely at her. Soon,
the image of a slender blonde accompanied those piercing eyes. Isabel heard snippets of girlish
conversations about boys echo in the back of her mind. Their laughter intermingled in a melodious
harmony.
Suddenly
the tone changed. Images of tired and
frustrated conversations between herself and this girl flashed before her
eyes. The feeling of resentment and
anger inundated Isabel’s senses, only for it to subside, and an unexpected
sense of comradery and kinship to take its place.
Tess.
They…
Isabel’s
eyes opened wide, as a sharp intake of breath filled her lungs. Again, she stood in the boundless plane,
without structure or shape. Only the
rhythmic tempo of her shallow breath broke the silence that filled the
now-empty locale. “They need me,” she
whispered urgently.
~~~
“Why did
I have to get stuck here?” Captain Dilkar mumbled, as he watched the bluish
grey squares crescendo and decrescendo upon his black monitor. His eyes glanced over his shoulder at the
unconscious, soon-to-be-carcass, floating in the stasis unit. “I always get the dull, monotonous
duties!” He drummed his fingers against
the metal surface, while resting his head against the palm of his other hand. “Just because I had one little accident with
the General’s dashka…”
The brute
size of the blonde, Nordic bodybuilder had suited Dilkar just fine. The human host was the perfect physical
specimen. Dilkar had been elated and was
willing to overlook the only defect - his lack of vision - that could be
corrected with the help clear concave lenses.
As he was adapting to his need for those irritable pintsize items of
slime, Dilkar had accidentally come across the General’s dashka.
“It was
an honest mistake,” he grumbled, pushing himself out from behind the
sleep-inducing screen. “It’s not like I
meant to break it and then step on it.”
Dilkar
trudged into the General’s enter of operations, where the stasis unit had been
assembled. He stalked over to the
floating figurine. His eyes narrowed and
he stuck his tongue out at the dull nuisance.
“I mean you don’t even speak!”
Dilkar glanced around the secure facility, making sure there were no
stray officers lurking about, before pressing his face against the glass
pane. After creating several contorted
expressions at the lifeless form, he stepped back from the glass unit and shook
his head. “You’re as fun as watching a
capaechea in a kii,” he groaned.
Dilkar
turned on his heel to return to his station when a rumbling sound emanated from
the stasis unit. He stopped midstride,
frowning at the unexpected noise.
Turning around slowly, he cocked his head to the side and stared
suspiciously at the woman, who was supposedly the incarnation of Princess
Vilandra. Waiting a moment to ascertain
whether he was just imagining things or not, the same rumblings occurred again,
except in front of him. The liquid held
in the stasis unit usually remained unmoved, as the prisoner was in no position
to cause any ripples; but before his eyes, Dilkar watched as several air
bubbles rise from the thin black tubing that allowed oxygen into the hybrid’s
system. It had never occurred before,
which made him tense. He watched and
waited silently, his breath held for any signs of movement from the otherwise,
serene captive. As the air bubbles
disappeared at the surface of the stasis unit, it caused a low rumbling
sound. Dilkar took a deep breath and let
out a sigh of relief. There was nothing
wrong. He was unusually jumpy today.
He chided
himself for being such a lily-livered wuss.
Dilkar stopped midstride. Wuss? He chuckled silently.
These
humans have an unusual turn-of-phrase.
Just as
he settled back into his cushioned seat, Dilkar thought to glance back once
more at the figure, which now set him ill-at-ease, just to put his mind at
ease. As Dilkar spun around in the
swivel chair to observe the prisoner, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed
a sudden dip in the life monitor of Princess Vilandra. Instinctively he rose to his feet and turned
in time to see a flurry of clear tiny bubbles rise from the bottom of the
stasis unit. Its fragile form spun with
such a fury, that a silky, white foam topped the spinning dervish. Dilkar’s gaze snapped to Princess Vilandra;
in amidst the throws of a self-contained squall, her body remained still and lifeless.
Suddenly
a low rolling sound filled the room.
Dilkar watched as the whirling chaos of white foam seemed to envelop the
floating slender frame – the thin light foam inching its way up her delicate
neck, until her sallow, yet painted china doll-like face was hidden behind a
veil of white. His whole body was alert
and prepared for any possible attack or deluge from the seemingly isolated
chambers.
The
rumbling stopped without notice, and the once clear chamber was now a textured
veil of white foam. Dilkar was unsure of
what to make of the situation. The
purple light which lit the stasis unit continued to pulse in a slow, rhythmic
cadence. And as the light shone against
the veil of white, a shadowy figure could be seen underneath the liquid curtain.
“Aw, come
on! Is that all you’ve got?” Dilkar
yelled forcefully, though his voice cracked under the strain. He swayed back and forth on the balls of his
feet, preparing for an attack from any direction. From the hook of his belt, he slipped out a blackish
grey metal baton, which was only about seven inches long. “Come out Vilandra!” His eyes darted around the entire room for
any hint of an escape. “You’re weak; and
I would be grateful for a tale to pass onto my future children and children’s
children!” he taunted maliciously. “How
Captain Dilkar single-handedly brought the demise of one of the Royal
Four! Doesn’t that have a nice ring to
it?”
Dilkar
licked his lips and a sly smirk appeared on his thin lips. “We don’t have forever, Princess!” he
sang.
Dilkar
waited for his taunts and remarks to bear fruit, but there was only silence;
even the pulsing cadence of the stasis unit had seemed to fade into a dim
glow. He swallowed hard. He loosened his grip on the elkarl, a weapon
borne only by captains in Khivar’s army; and his rhythmic sway slowed, until he
stood perfectly still in front of the stasis unit. Dilkar shook his head in disgust. “I really thought you had something up your
sleeve,” he spat, turning his back on the one of the ‘threats’ to Khivar’s
throne.
As he
stalked away from the unit, a group of seven soldiers entered the
facility. Dilkar paused and beckoned
them over to the strange phenomenon.
“You’re not going to believe what happened here,” he growled. “An attempt to place fear into our army.” He laughed with disdain.
The group
of soldiers, varying in height and size – one as petite as to mistake him for a
woman up to a man as large and round as a balloon – looked curiously at the
strange sight, and joined in the laughter.
“Really,
Dilkar?” one soldier chuckled. “Did you run scared like last time, on the
Dunes of Telbar?” The strawberry-haired
man, in his late 30’s eyed him wearily.
Dilkar
glared menacingly at Holphar’s distasteful reminder of one of his more, well known
blunders. He took a step forward and
drew his weapon, which caused the lower ranking Captain to shrink back. “Do I need remind you of your place,
Holphar?” Dilkar asked through clenched teeth.
The older
man backed away, as several of the other soldiers held Dilkar at bay. “He’s just shooting his mouth off, Dilkar,”
one of the soldiers dismissed.
Dilkar
allowed the moment to pass, as he relaxed his body, turning his attention back
to the stasis unit. “We should just cut
off the air supply,” he muttered. “She’s
just another thing we have to transport back to Antar, once the General
finishes with Zan.”
The
soldiers groaned in agreement. “Why
Khivar even thought they were a threat is beyond me,” another soldier
commented.
Dilkar
laughed and nodded understandably at his assessment of Khivar’s
over-zealousness of the Seer’s ‘Prophecy’.
“You do not have to explain that to me,” he laughed heartily.
~~~
Isabel
opened her eyes and found herself enveloped in white. She could not orient herself, and struggled
under the weight of the fluid, which enveloped her. The tubes that fed oxygen into her system
choked her, as she was fighting to breathe on her own. Fear filled her body as she felt herself
drowning in a sea of air.
Her mind
and body screamed silently, as she felt trapped, suffocated in a wall of
white. She closed her eyes, trying to
allow herself the intake of oxygen to think clearly.
Isabel,
then suddenly discovered that as soon as she stopped struggling for breath
through her regular respiratory system, she was able to breathe regularly –
sort of. She felt her body relax and she
was able to orientate herself to her environment.
Isabel
could hear several voices, though one voice seemed more familiar than the
others. The louder, more obnoxious voice
approached her prison and then suddenly faded back again. Isabel tried to remember what had happened –
how had she gotten here? The voices
remained outside of her prison, speaking boisterously.
Suddenly
her mind flashed with memories of strange men breaking into her parents’ house,
and as she was about to use her powers, they drugged her – knocking her out
cold. Isabel swallowed hard. Kyle, Maria, and Jesse were there also. Were they safe?
Isabel
was then overwhelmed by memories of while she had been unconscious – or in some
transient state. Seeing Max, speaking
with him – she had done that while in this narrow chamber. She knew it was Khivar’s doing – all of
this.
Isabel
closed her eyes and searched the recesses of her mind for other memories. As she delved into herself images of a white
light filled her mind, and a warm comforting strength filled her body as if
someone had wrapped their arms around her.
Then she remembered it all. Why
she had come back…
For
them
She had
to get out of there.
Isabel
closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek, focusing on the warm energy
that remained in her chilled body; but as she tried to focus, her mind wandered
and she became lightheaded. Opening her
eyes, she saw stars before her. Whatever
had been poured into her veins through the tubes that clung to her had made her
weak and drained her powers.
Her tears
were absorbed into the prison of liquid.
There
had to be a way out.
Isabel
closed her eyes and asked for the strength to escape this Iturian prison. Once more she closed her eyes and this time,
images of Khivar filled her mind. She
felt disgust and loathing as she remembered his touch on her skin, his
charming, yet deceitful tongue, which had seduced her into betraying everyone
she had loved. Isabel remembered how
Khivar had killed Rath in front of her eyes and showed no remorse; in fact, he
delighted in the act. All of these
images, thoughts and memories flooded her mind, creating within her a raw,
feral anger and hate for the creature who had done this to her and her family.
Suddenly
Isabel found herself encompassed in a dark violet globe of energy. From every pore, pure energy flowed out,
expanding the energy’s sphere. She watched
as the white foam, which had cushioned her, dispersed, revealing a glass wall,
which had her prison for an undetermined amount of days or even weeks – she had
no clue. Isabel took one last deep
breath and extended her arms out, with her palms pressed forward, as if to
direct the momentum of the energy field.
~~~
Rumble.
Dilkar
turned around to face the stasis unit.
He frowned, nudging a few of the near by soldiers. “Watch this,” he muttered, stepping forward,
only a few metres a way from the cloud of foam.
“Are you trying to say something?”
He glanced gleefully at his comrades and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you give it a rest?” he glowered,
turning on his heel and walking towards his fellow soldiers.
As Dilkar
went to join his friends, he noticed a sudden change in their expression – one
of jovial mirth to uncertainty and fear.
Dilkar spun around in time to see the pulsing glow of lavender had
unexplainably darkened to a royal violet; and again, a rumbling noise was
sounding from the stasis unit, except this time it was louder and more
fervent. Dilkar opened his mouth to
speak, but the explosion of water and glass put a halt to anymore of his
taunts.
~~~
She felt
the glass buckle and give way.
The
energy blast was blinding, illuminating the whole room. Isabel had to shield her eyes from its
brilliance, as she freed herself from her glass cage. Her body, which was suspended in the
containment unit by the liquid, fell to the ground, in a pool of water, foam,
and glass. Isabel was numb, unable to
feel pain or even the joy of her release.
As she faded in and out of consciousness, out of the corner of her eye,
she could see many bodies strewn across the floor, unconscious or dead. Licking her wet lips, Isabel tried lifting
her head up and standing, but her body collapsed from under her.
Isabel
lurched forward, when the jagged edge of the shattered glass pressed against
the palm of her hand, slid along the wet surface underneath her. She heard the
crunch of glass as her head hit the ground - unable to hold her head up any
longer. The last image caught in her
mind, as she fell into darkness, was the tiny, delicate sparkling of glass
along the floor littered with bodies.
~~~
Michael…
Michael
jerked his head up, as a sudden chill filled his body. He furrowed his brow, as his eyes darted
around the room. “Isabel?” he whispered
softly and uncertainly.
He had
hardly had any sleep; and when he did, it was restless – tossing and turning
from dark dreams. After a few hours,
Michael finally gave up and began studying several maps and blueprints of Saren
Dari and Khivar’s citadel. If he could
possibly push aside his fears and worries for Isabel and focus on the task at
hand, something might be accomplished in their quest to overthrow Khivar.
Yet…
His mind
refused to forget those smooth chocolate eyes, which smiled at him, so defined
and intense. Michael’s fingers curled
into a tight fist, as he leaned over the blueprints of the citadel. He closed his eyes and let out a weary
sigh. Running his fingers through his
hair, he shook his head sharply and gazed down at the glowing flat screen. His eyes were tired from staring so intently
at the screen.
“If you
have hurt one hair on her head…” Michael
growled at an invisible Khivar, as his mind was wracked with images of her cold
lifeless body. He turned his attention
back to the illuminated map of Saren Dari, which was sketchy at best, and
furrowed his brow as he recalled the deserted, barren plains.
They would need to formulate
exacting plans, if they were going into the almost unmapped territory.
Though one
of the Loyalist spies had scouted the area, he had been unable to clearly
indicate where the main headquarters was, which held the project called ‘Pilan’,
and the secret base appeared to be built on a massive scale, so as to take days
to locate any weapon of destruction. “Damn
it!” He shouted into the pitch black
room.
“You’ll wake up your neighbors, if you keep
yelling like that.”
Michael
snapped his head up to see Tess standing with her arms folded across her chest,
wearing a wry grin.
~~~
It was a
cool morning when she rose to begin the new day. Tess was anxious for the day to begin. General Steren had promised their rescue
mission to Saren Dari would be plotted out after a good night’s rest. Through her sleep could have been described
as ‘less than restful’, her body and spirit felt unusually light, as if some
hopeful expectation had been given to her.
Her first
thought, when she arose, was to check up on Michael. Tess knew he had less than a peaceful sleep,
if in fact, he had slept at all. Now as
she stood in the entranceway of the imperceptibly dark room - the only light emitting
from a sleek black table - where Michael’s broad frame was outlined by the
bluish-white light, and his fatigued expression was even more obvious.
“Have you
slept at all?” she asked worriedly, as she stepped carefully into the room,
speaking voice commands to the automated lighting system.
The warm
yellow luminescence of lights hummed as she strode towards Michael’s
workstation, where there were papers and various technological machinations
strewn across the cold, flat metal table; it took up half of his quarters, with
only a small corner for his sleeping area.
Tess peered over his shoulder, following his gaze down towards the large
flat monitor built within the workstation surface. “What are you doing?” she asked calmly.
His body
was tense, and he did not even bother to acknowledge her questions. Tess could sense his complete disregard for
her presence, completely focused on a screen filled with lines and various informative
notes scribbled haphazardly. She leaned
forward with a furrowed brow, as she studied the indiscriminate fluorescent
markings, made by someone’s hand and inputted into a computer. Tess recognized the data; it was an outline
of Saren Dari.
Part of
her was bolstered at the sight of Michael’s interest in rescuing her family;
however, as she glanced briefly at Michael’s determined expression, she could
foresee the toll it would take on him.
“Michael.” Her tone was firm, but gentle. She squeezed his shoulder, hoping to reach
him in the concentrated trance he was in.
In what
seemed to take hours, Tess watched as Michael slowly drifted out of the eerie
preoccupation he was in. His small dark eyes
dilated as they finally focused on her. “Tess?” Michael frowned in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
Tess
grabbed the seat of his chair and swiveled his body around, until he faced her –
his body squared with hers. She straightened
up and tilted her head slightly, gazing at Michael’s blanched face. “What are you doing to yourself?” she
whispered apprehensively. “I came to get
you, before I met General Steren in the stratagem room, and I find you glued to
this screen. What is wrong?”
“Nothing.” Michael propelled himself backwards, pressing
his hands against his cheeks, squeezing his eyes closed. He let out a loud groan, as he stood up and
stretched his arms outwards. “I was
trying to figure out the best method of attack on Saren Dari.”
Tess
watched as Michael waved her off, dismissing her concern for his mental and
physical status of health.
“I think
the best tactic is to sneak in through the cargo bay, and split up into teams,”
he continued. “We have a better chance,
even if Khivar discovers one of us, because the guards would concentrate on the
one, leaving the other teams free to locate Andaria and Zander.”
Tess
nodded slowly as he walked away, into the bathroom, apparently to clean himself
up. “Sounds like the makings of a plan,”
she drawled, following Michael to the doorway of his bathroom. “But what about this vision you had about
Isabel?” She paused a moment, unsure of
whether this subject might disturb him even more. “You can’t be focused, when you’ve got those
images in your head,” she noted quietly.
“I’m
fine,” he replied tersely, his voice dropping an octave.
“You don’t
look it, Michael.”
His head
snapped around to meet her gaze. “You
don’t know what you’re talking about.” His
pulse quickened, and she saw his anger flash across his face. “I know what I have to do,” he stated, detached,
devoid of emotion. “We’ll take care of
Andaria and Zander…” His gaze returned
to the image of his own reflection in the spotless, burnished mirror – his expression
blank. “Isabel is strong…like you said,”
he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of his own words. “Max will take care…” His voice trailed off.
“Michael.”
Tess stepped forward in an attempt to comfort him, but he interrupted her, squeezing
past her and grabbing his uniform jacket off of his bed.
“General
Steren is waiting for us,” he stated, slipping on his jacket. “We should get going.”
“Stop it,
Michael.” She stared at him in disbelief. “Don’t pretend that everything is fine with
you. I can feel it killing you inside.”
Michael gazed
at her with a stony expression. “We’re
here to accomplish our task, which is to save your mother and son from certain
death,” he answered with unemotional purpose.
“Emotions get in the way.” He
motioned towards the door. “Let’s do
what we can, and stop wishing about things we have no control over anymore.”
Tess
shook her head; her whole body strained in protest at the ‘wrongness’ of it
all. She knew he was putting on a wax façade,
trying to hide behind the mask of his military detachment. Soldiers
did not show emotion.
The idea
made her want to shake him. How could he pretend that nothing was
wrong? That he wasn’t dying inside to
know whether Isabel was safe or not?
Tess closed her eyes and swallowed hard.
After taking a deep breath, she gazed up at Michael, who stood with one
hand pointing to the door – the still detached expression plastered upon his
face. She gritted her teeth and
swallowed the urge to press this any further.
She knew from the look on Michael’s face - he was determined to be ‘strong’
about the whole situation and focus on the present and what troubles lay ahead. And Tess would accept this rationale…for now.
It was a defense mechanism, which allowed him to deal with his emotions
and the helplessness he felt – Tess knew all about that. But she wouldn’t let it rest forever.
“Fine.” Tess sighed and strode towards the door,
walking past Michael and out into the cool hallways of the mountain base. “But in the end, we’re all going to have to deal with this, Michael. We all
care about what happens to Isabel and Max,” she commented offhandedly.
“I know.”
Tess
glanced at Michael out of the corner of her eye and saw his upper lip twitch;
and a flush of relief flash in his eyes, as he came along side her. She looked forward, turning left at the quiet
intersection of the now bustling corridors.
Biting the corner of her bottom lip, Tess smiled faintly, turning and
looking up at Michael, who had now recovered from his slight slip of emotional
recognition, and nudged him with her elbow.
“Khivar won’t know what hit him,” she stated confidently, hoping he
would accept her subtle way of apologizing.
Michael
closed his eyes and nodded once. “We’ll
make him pay.”