Loving Destiny

 

Disclaimer:  These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers of Roswell

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: Tir Lamar  (Tier Lamb – MAR)

                                                Kelsar (Ke - SAR)

                                                Dermot  (DER – mot)

                                                kashkar  (cash – KAR)

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

                                        Mount Freiweils: location of Loyalist secret base

                                        Tir Lamar:  sister city to Eshtari

                                        kashkar: slur, equivalent to witch

 

Chapter Sixty One

 

***

Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.

                                                                                                      - 1 Sam. 8:20

***

 

 

 

"And nothing will separate us," Andaria whispered, as her long slender fingers caressed Ava's fine, blonde hair.

 

"Promise," 7-year old Tess/Ava asked, looking up expectantly.  "Daddy's always going away; you promise you won't?"

 

The perfectly shaped ruby lips smiled, revealing a sparkling glint of white.  "You are my beautiful girl...how could I possibly leave you?" 

 

Tess/Ava felt reassured.  Suddenly she felt the soft caress of her mother's fingers against her waist, squeezing gently, and causing a loud shriek of delight and surprise.  "Don't tickle me!"

 

Andaria's expression was feigned shock.  "Is my little Aziza ticklish?"  She moved in closer and continued to ravage her side and knees, with her gentle touch. 

 

"Ahhh!"  Tess/Ava cried out in laughter, squirming in an attempt to escape.  "Pleaaaase!" she gasped, as tears ran down her cheeks.

 

Her mother's laughter echoed melodiously in her ear, as she felt her lips kiss her cheek.  "I love you, my child."

 

~ * ~

 

"Mother?"  Tess sat up, her chest pounding and her breathing shallow; sweat dripped from her brow.  She spun around, trying to re-orientate herself to her surroundings.  Where am I?

 

"Your Highness," a robotic voice beckoned.

 

Tess jerked her head around to see over her shoulder, a young man kneeling close by.  She blinked several times, trying to regulate her breathing and figure out what was happening...what had happened.

 

"We must be on our way.  Commander Guerin has already located Project Pilan; he's now trying to locate your son."

 

The words swirled around in her head as the image of her mother filled her mind.  It was so disorientating.  What happened to her mother?  Tess closed her eyes, rubbing her temples and tried to focus on the past couple of hours.  She had been searching for Zander and then...

 

The image of a long slender table being rolled away, draped by a long black cloth flashed before her eyes.

 

Dead.

 

Suddenly the overwhelming urge to throw up came over.  She turned away from Yasu and gagged.  "Please tell me it isn't true," she gasped.  "She's not dead."  Her voice was breathy, as if she was hyperventilating.

 

"Your Highness."  The tone was commanding and exasperated.  "We must accomplish our task.  I do not know if that was your mother; but it seems by your physical and mental reaction, you must have sensed something underneath that cloth."  He paused, as if in consideration to the possible loss.  "But we do not have the luxury of a mourning period.  Every minute we linger here in this shallow corridor jeopardizes our entire mission, and the secondary mission."

 

Tess pursed her lips, wiping the moist perspiration from her forehead.  Her emotions were wreaking havoc to her system.  She felt like she wanted to just curl up in a ball and die.

 

But she couldn't.  Zander needed her.

 

After taking a slow, deep breath, Tess turned to her logical and emotionally detached partner.  "You are right," she said matter-of-factly.  "I'm sorry."

 

The officer shook his head and sighed.  "There is no reason to apologize.  You have good reason for your emotional state; but we must move.  Several soldiers have been passing through this area of the complex and I've heard whisperings of intruders."

 

"Have they discovered Michael and the other officers?" Tess asked worriedly.  The task at hand re-focused her attentions.

 

"I do not believe so.  But it is only a matter of time," he lamented.  "We must locate Zander now if we are to escape with the heir of Antar."

 

Tess nodded.  "Where do we start?"

 

Just then, a several guards and architects strode by.

 

"General Garrick and Commander Nicholas have come to blows."

 

"Who would you put your mesnyas on?"

 

As the voices faded, Tess peered around the corner as soon as she was sure that Khivar's men passed.  "I think we've received the best opportunity to search for Zander yet," she whispered, checking the corridor for any signs of oncoming traffic.  "Try to reach Mich...Commander Guerin and I'll try to see if I can reach Zander."

 

Tess carefully ran along the corridor wall, with Yasu close behind, and tried to reach out to her son, hoping he was conscious.  As she peered into the insecure darkness, a sudden panic overwhelmed her; she could feel herself captured in a struggle, desperate fingers clawing at her mind, like someone was drowning.

 

Help.

 

~~~

 

"Did you download the specs?"  Michael glanced over his shoulder at Quirinius, whose concentration was immersed in the narrow pillar that was glowing blood red, while keeping an eye on the entrance to the Com Room.

 

"Say, Commander Guerin," Hani grinned happily, with a pup-like expectancy.  "Do you think we'll receive our first real assignment to a battalion after this?"

Michael continued to watch the door nervously, while Hani seemed to continue to babble.  "Que," he barked, shortening the long name of his subordinate.  "Let's get a move on.  I think company's coming!"  He glanced at Hani, whose expression seemed to pale at the warning.

 

"Got it!" Quirinius exclaimed, snapping the small pocket data system closed. 

 

Michael motioned Hani against the wall, as he frantically gestured for Quirinius to join them, while the sudden impending footsteps approached the private room.  His heart raced, pounding against his chest; he had to be prepared for anything.

 

"There seemed to be unusual activity in the Com Centre," a low, raspy voice said.  "General Garrick told me to check security."

 

As the high pitched beep of the security code being accepted into the system chimed, Michael's muscles tensed, as he readied the rail thin baton in his hand.  The swish of the metal doors alerted Michael to the entrance of the unexpected strangers.  His breathing became shallow, as he tried to keep their presence unknown as long as possible.

 

Two men garbed in black robes entered into the room.  They had no rank insignia, and did not seem aware of him, Hani, or Quirinius.  Michael thought there might be a chance to sneak out, without being noticed - without confrontation. 

 

As he gestured for his men to follow him, as the two men walked passed them, oblivious to the intruders, he pressed the release for the door.  Just as Michael turned to make a quick exit, the two officers had heard the airlock release on the door. 

 

"Hey!" one of the soldiers shouted.  "Halt."

 

Both looked startled and upset.  They seemed to fumble around with their weapons, mumbling instructions to each other.

 

Michael pounced on the 'green', unsuspecting officers; drawing his foot-long baton, he pressed the release button on his weapon of choice.  The once, short baton, extended itself into a longstaff.  He knocked both of the plasma weapons the officers had drawn on him, Hani, and Quirinius.  Hani and Quirinius seemed almost as unprepared as Khivar's men, when Michael finally barked instructions to his inexperienced team.  "Lockdown the room, until we can dispatch of these two."

 

The two Iturians backed up, raising their hands in surrender.  Michael motioned for the officers to drop the rest of their weapons, as he kept an eye on their enemies.  Hani and Quirinius approached the nervous soldiers and moved to bind them with the shackles the gaping men had thrown on the floor. 

 

Quirinius had firmly secured his man, when suddenly Hani, was knocked down by the officer he was shackling; Michael moved to intercept, but before he was able to detain the Antarian, the officer had maneuvered enough distance between them to send out a distress call on his radio.

 

"Intruders in Section 25.  Emergency.  Requesting backup!"

 

Michael let out a loud sigh.  "I wish you hadn't done that."  With that, he expelled an energy blast, rendering him unconscious.

 

"Ladies," he looked at Hani and Quirinius, "that's our cue to leave, boys."  Skipping around the unconscious guard, he grabbed the stray weapons and headed towards the open door.

 

The two Kedrans looked at Michael quizzically, pausing for a second, before following him.

 

Sirens were sounding in the northwest wing of the secret base.  Michael pulled Quirinius up along side him, as they ran cautiously through the corridors.  "You need to pull out the specs of the base and tell me where we're going!"

 

The quiet Kedran youth pulled the small computer from his pocket and began randomly pressing buttons on the grey machine.  It was the only thing that could get them out of this sticky situation.  "Where are we going?" Quirinius said breathily.

 

"Get me to Project Pilan.  We're not leaving without it."  Michael peered around the sharp corner of the hallway for approaching guards.  He glanced back at Hani and Quirinius, motioning them to follow.  "Hani, you know how to get back to the shuttle bay?"

 

The excited youth nodded.  "Yes, sir!" he whispered.  "What are your orders?"

"Que and I will find 'Pilan' and you prepare for a quick escape.  Get the ship ready for take off."

 

"But, won't you need..." Hani looked disappointed.

 

"Do as I order," Michael barked.  His patience was thin; he could not waste time reassuring him of the importance of the task.

 

"Commander, 'Pilan' is being held in Section L21.  It's two levels up and in the northeast end of the base."

 

Michael acknowledged Que's directions.  He gazed down at Hani, who stared up expectantly at his leader, his fair complexion seemingly untouched by the elements creased by an expression of hope that he had perhaps changed his mind.  "If we are not at the shuttle in 10 minutes, take off; we'll meet you behind the first dune outside the base - 25° longitude, 30° latitude."  Michael waited for the strawberry-colored mop to nod in understanding.

 

"Yes sir."  Hani raised his right hand in salute.  "May the Unseen grant you success."

 

Michael nodded.  He looked sternly at the young soldier, turn around and head towards the nearest ventilation shaft.  "Just don't get caught," he warned gruffly.

 

Hani turned and smiled, and then returned to the task at hand.

 

"Commander?"

 

Michael turned his attention to his remaining subordinate.  "All right.  We've got a short amount of time to get up two levels," he explained.  "Let's try and do this without getting caught." 

 

~~~

 

Fadilia monitored the status of their multiple armies' defenses.  At this point, they were engaged in battle on several different fronts.  And the latest movement against the Loyalist contingent had Khivar sending his army on a blood mission.  He had already decimated a small village of Kedrans, on the outskirts of Tir Lamar, sister city to Eshtari.

 

General Steren had reluctantly sent out a host of 40 inexperienced troops from Mount Freiweils, along with Captains Kelsar and Dermot.  Tir Lamar had managed reinforcements, but the bulk of the Loyalist defense of its' villages and towns came from Mount Freiweils.  Since Khivar had gone on the offensive strike, their most experienced and trained soldiers had become bogged down in the major lines of defense, as Khivar's men seemed to unconsciously draw nearer to their mountain base.  What was disconcerting was the fact that they were already spreading themselves thin; but Fadilia refused to allow the idea that those subjects who were situated in a smaller community should be left to fend for themselves. 

 

"Your Highness," Emine called quietly from the corridor shadows.  "General Jakar is in the Conference room."

 

Fadilia tilted her head to the side curiously.  What could have possibly prompted Jakar's return? 

 

The Annex had agreed to remain com silent during this tumultuous time.  The members had heard of Khivar's pre-emptive strikes against any Loyalist uprising, which had made them all the more uneasy at the thought of being caught speaking with any Loyalist contingent, especially Fadilia.  "Tell him I will come."

 

~ * ~

 

"Your Highness," Jakar breathed, as he fell to one knee.

 

"It is good to see you again, General," Fadilia smiled tentatively.  She motioned for him to rise.  "What is it that brings you here when the journey is so perilous?"  She gestured for him to be seated at the large oval table.

 

His usual strong, chiseled features revealed signs of unease and weariness, as he stiffly pulled out the nearest chair and sat down.  He cleared his throat and seemed hesitant to speak.  "Queen Fadilia, we have been monitoring Khivar’s advances against your hidden base - will your forces hold?"

 

Fadilia furrowed her brow at the unexpected show of concern.  "It is kind of you to hold such concern, but is this truly the reason for your visit?"  She studied the worry- creased face that spoke a tale of the many battles he had seen and fought.  The clouded windows of azure flashed a glimpse of the truth that he held close to him.  Her eyes remained intent on their subject of scrutiny.

 

"Don't use your powers, Queen Fadilia."  His voice lowered and its' tone held an edge of resentment.  "Munans may not be able to read minds, but we do resent those who would impose such powers."

 

Fadilia steeled her gaze and smiled wryly.  "I understand your request."  She paused a moment, shifting her weight and shaking her head.  "And no, I would not intrude so haplessly, on one whom Antarians regard at such a time, as an ally."

 

Jakar seemed to relax at her unspoken promise.  His face, which naturally portrayed a serious expression, darkened and was even more grave than usual.  "There have been reports from Earth...about Zan and Vilandra."

 

At the mention of her son, Fadilia felt her heart skip a beat.  She clasped her now, trembling hands together and gestured with a nod for Jakar to continue.  She had been longing for any slip of information from their intelligence officers, but they had been unable to send a probe into the system since Khivar's onslaught had begun.

 

"From what our solar feeds have reported, a sporadic, large, but contained sequence of energy bursts have emanated from the barren region of the planet's surface."  General Jakar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, while his clasped hand rested thoughtfully against his lips.  "We have long suspected Khivar of sending a search team for your son and daughter and now..."

 

Fadilia swallowed hard at the sudden pause of information.  Her thoughts turned to the visions Michael had been receiving.  He had suspected or felt her daughter's danger approaching, or even witnessed it.  She shut her eyes as tightly as she could and tried to recall what he had spoken of...

 

"Your Highness?"

 

Fadilia jerked her head up to see Jakar's concerned gaze staring back at her.  "Yes."  She sounded breathless.  "I," she shook her head demurely, "apologize.  Please continue."

 

General Jakar seemed to debate whether her request was wise.

 

"Please."

 

The General nodded reluctantly.  "When we looked into the matter closely, an unexpected feedback from another energy source - causing our solar probe to be knocked offline - was registered."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"It means," he said slowly, lowering his gaze, as if unable to look her in the eye.  "That we are temporarily blind and have lost any link to G72-03."

 

Fadilia bit the inside of her cheek and worriedly imagined what could possibly be happening to her son and daughter.  She looked up at Jakar and frowned.  "Do we know if Khivar did, indeed, send a contingent to Earth?"

 

Jakar looked at her grimly.  "Two days prior to our rescue of Commander Rath and Queen Ava, there was a hidden portal opened from the palatial grounds..."  He let out a frustrated sigh.  "It is highly probable that Zan and Vilandra are currently under attack with the recent information we received, and that they are outnumbered.  If not..."

 

Fadilia's eyes flashed ebony.  "Don't."  Her tone was menacing.  Her whole body was trembling, not in fear, but in fury.

 

Khivar had threatened her children for the last time.

 

Fadilia mentally called to Emine, who had remained close, just outside the entrance of the room.  When the dark-haired child silently appeared before her, Fadilia gazed resolutely at her handmaiden.  "Get General Steren."

 

~~~

 

Max was startled.  It described the moment perfectly.  Rushing through the chaos with this parents lagging behind him, all he could think of was 'safety'.  He needed to get them to safety. 

 

So when out of nowhere, Max felt a strong hand pull him down, he prepared himself to kill whoever it was, because it was 'kill or be killed'.

 

As he prepared himself, Max heard a high shrill voice screech from behind him, as he raised his hand to send an energy blast toward his pursuer.

 

"Max!"

 

Startled.

 

Max spun around to see Liz standing with her fingers entangled within her hair - a look of terror on her face.  He followed her gaze, which led him to Kyle, whose hand it had been that dragged him down into a dark hidden crevice.  With a jerk of his arm, Max pulled his hand away from Kyle's face, which would have received the full impact of his blast.  "Kyle!  God, what are you doing here?"

 

Kyle stood unmoved.  His expression was one of shock and fear.

 

"Thank God you're all right!"  Mrs. Evans cried, grabbing Maria and embracing her.  "If we had left you behind, I don't know..."

 

"We found them and got them out as fast as we could," Jesse explained to Max and the Evans.  He turned to the Evans.  "I'm sorry we left you; we tried to find you, but..."

 

Mr. Evans shook his head.  "No.  The aliens...guards...whatever they were, had us close.  There was no way you could have gotten us out."  He grabbed Jesse's hand and pulled him into a grateful embrace.  "You would have been captured too."

 

Max watched the sudden reunion.  It was unexpected to say the least.  "You were supposed to take her back to Roswell!"  He glared angrily at Jesse.

 

It was his first reaction.

 

"Max, try and understand," Liz pleaded.  "I'm linked to you...to all of this!"  She gestured toward the commotion out in the darkened desert plain. 

 

"I needed to be here.  I..."

 

"All of this..." Mrs. Evans repeated after Liz.  She frowned.  "What is all of this?"

 

Max turned to his mother, whose previously pale complexion was now flushed with colour.  She grabbed her husband's hand down at her side and stared at Max, searchingly.

 

"I..."  Max was not ready for this confrontation - the explanation that was due them after so many years - it was all too much and he had an army after him.  He opened his mouth to say something, but a loud thunderous crash shook the rocky crag, which hung over their heads and several loose pieces of rock rained down on them.

 

"Max."  His heart tightened in recognition of the familiar, yet faint voice.

 

Max spun around and peered out from the dusty hiding place.  Isabel.

 

"Max, don't go.  Please!"  Mrs. Evans grabbed his arm.

 

Max looked back at the terrified group of people below him.  "I have to go."  He swallowed hard, taking in the images of each of his family and friends' faces, as if etching them in his memory.  "You have to get out of here.  It's too dangerous for you to stay."

 

"Maxwell."  His father's voice boomed in that familiar commanding tone, which he had used to keep his young pre-adolescent self out of trouble.  "Listen to me."

 

Maxwell turned to face his father, who had always seemed larger than life and always there to protect him and Isabel, suddenly now diminished.  He smiled warmly at him, as a trail of memories flooded his mind.  They had been his world ever since the wandered out of this same desert.  Now he had to return to it...but alone.

 

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  "I wish I could explain..."  He closed his eyes, and regretfully climbed up towards the battlefield.  "Go!  Get out now."  With that, he had spoken the last words to those he loved.

 

~~~

 

The chaos had subsided by the time she had climbed down from the ridge where she had made her shocking entrance.  When Isabel approached the flat plain, Maxwell was nowhere to be found.  She managed to catch her breath, stealing a moment to compose herself.  Isabel thanked God for getting them to safety and asked for Him strength to face the army of men, who, though smaller in number, had begun to regroup.

 

As Isabel stepped out into the dark sands, with only the light of the full moon to light her way, she could see a group of now 30 men, scouring the desert, for she could only assume, her brother and parents.  She quickly disregarded the swarm of men; her main focus was to locate the leader - the man she had heard the soldiers call 'The General'.  Once Isabel found him, she would give it her all to repay him for all he had done to her.

 

~~~

 

Rapidly things had fallen apart right before his eyes.  Qunar had never seen anything like it.  Battle after battle, he had always managed to predict his adversary's movement; and though this case was most unusual, the outcome had been assured.  Over 200 men he had brought with him and now, as he surveyed the handful of men that remained, Qunar stood in complete shock and humiliation.  He had never lost a battle.  He had always managed to outwit his enemy.  But this night...

 

He looked up to see the pitch black canvas that had overtaken his army, now filled with the sight of an overwhelming moon.  Its' pale rays rained down upon the battlefield, as if to declare victory over his dark army of destruction.

 

Qunar clenched his teeth and let out another primal scream of frustration.  He raised his fist defiantly at the perfectly formed celestial being and shook his head.  No.  This was not it.  As long as he still had breath in this mortal host body, there would be a narrow pathway towards victory.

 

This is not it.  It wasn't over.

 

Qunar spun around, is eyes darting around wildly in search for this pubescent hybrid who was stealing his dream...Khivar's rightful pleasure of seeing Zan's death for the second and final time - never to rise again.  He was going to bring his king the honor and glory due him, by bringing him Zan's head on a stake.

 

Oh it was far from over.

 

As Qunar focused on the task at hand, he felt a sudden throbbing between his temples.  The unexpected ache caused him to stumble forward onto one knee.  What was wrong with him?

 

"Me."  Isabel gazed down at the lecherous alien, who has asked that silent, yet audible to her mind, question.  "And that's just the beginning."

 

Qunar smiled as he recognized the voice, in which the disdain was far from hidden, speaking to his back.  He licked his lips as if savoring the confrontation that was about to occur.  In the beginning, Qunar had been less than appreciative of the revelation of his prisoner's escape; but he now had come to realize how it had come to work in his favor. 

 

In fact, he couldn't have planned for a better act of retribution.  After all, he had wanted Zan to witness his own sister's slow, torturous death.

 

As he rose, every muscle in Isabel's body instinctively tensed, and she furrowed her brow in suspicion of her enemy.  He was up to something.

 

"Vilandra, child, you have no idea what you have come up against," Qunar chided, as a father would his child.  He turned around and met her steely gaze.  "You and your family failed the first time at keeping the throne, what makes you think you'll survive the second time around?"

 

She looked weak; her breathing was laboured and her posture revealed the toll his experiments had taken upon her body.  Qunar straightened his posture; his confidence bolstered once more.

 

Isabel remained silent, absorbing every calculated insult, allowing it to fuel her anger - her rage.  She had managed to draw off most of the troop towards the south end of the empty plain, allowing her a one-on-one confrontation.

 

"Really Vilandra," he clucked his tongue, "at least the first time you had some concept of what was going on."  Qunar raised one eyebrow in feigned disbelief.  "From what I've gathered you and your brother are rather clueless when it comes to your past," he raised his hand to his lips, as if speaking words for her ears only, "that you don't even want to return to Antar."

 

"You're wrong."  The statement was strong, sure and confident.

 

Isabel's eyes glazed over as she felt the electrifying heat searing the palms of her hands, as it urged her to be released.

 

"Then why didn't you leave with the other half of the Royal 4, hmmm?"  Qunar inched closer; a slow smile crept upon his face.  "You see, I think that living on this exile of a planet has softened you...in fact, rumor has it that you don't quite recall your previous life on our beloved planet."

 

Isabel shifted her weight from side to side.  She had made progress over the past several days; but the General was right.  She still did not recall her life as Vilandra.  There were moments where she received glimpses into her past, but not everything.  And as much as she felt a new dedication and duty to saving Antar from Khivar's hand, it felt like she was still disconnected to that source which would fill everything in.  Isabel knew she wasn't whole...not yet.

 

The long pause gave Qunar a moment to read her emotional state...where her head was at.  In that one brief moment where Vilandra had hesitated, he had seen a million thoughts flash before her eyes.  Still uncertain...still human...

 

Good.  It was working.

 

"I can see why these humans might seem appealing to you."  Qunar tilted his head to the side, subtly testing the waters.  "Your mate has quite the attachment towards you, despite the revelation of your hybrid genetics."

 

"You disgust me."

 

Qunar chuckled at her child-like insult.  "Is that all you have to say?  I must say that I am disappointed in you Vilandra."  He was about to laugh at the foolish child, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a sudden change in her demeanor.

 

"Don't speak that name again!" Isabel barked angrily.

 

Qunar took a step back, startled at her surge of strength and confidence.

 

"Let me inform you about a few things, General."  Her voice dripped with syrupy sweetness, yet her tone was curt.  "I have been put through hell by Khivar...and by your hand."

 

Qunar furrowed his brow, not liking the turn this was taking.  She approached without any limp or trace of any weakness.  He cursed the Royal Four under his breath.  Their resilience brought unexpected complications.

 

"By my calculations, you've tried to kidnap or kill the people whom I hold dearest."  Isabel slowly closed the gap between her enemy and herself.  She could hear the soft crackling of energy that hummed within the closed palm of her hands.  "So," she said darkly.  "You'll forgive me for asking you to kindly refrain from referring to me as anything.  In fact, don't speak at all."

 

Qunar narrowed his gaze at the disheveled, self-glorified, hybrid princess.  She daned to give him orders?  "Forgiven," he drawled, with a smile plastered on his face.  "Perhaps we shouldn't talk at all."  At a moment's thought, he aimed the elkarl, which he had hidden at his side, and fired.

 

Isabel was ready.  She dodged the bright red light that flew past her ear - the warm flush of her cheek revealing to her just how close it had come to striking her.  Dropping to her knees, Isabel raised her arm in a sweeping arc and released the white, crackling burst of energy from her body - first her right hand, and then her left.

 

Qunar jerked backwards, stumbling almost falling onto his backside, when the two swift blasts of energy sped towards him.  He managed to avoid the first blast quite easily, as she was too eager to kill him that her aim was off by a few inches; but he was unable to maneuver around the second energy burst, and his neatly pressed uniform received the brunt of its scorching fury.

 

Crouching low, balancing on the balls of her feet, Isabel watched the General tentatively, as she anticipated his next move. 

 

Qunar stood with his hand pressed against his shoulder.  He looked down, in disgust, at his arm.  Lifting his hand from his right shoulder, he examined where Isabel's energy blast had made contact.  His eyes flashed ebony, as his finger slipped through the oval hole that had been burnt into his uniform.  Qunar snapped his around, glaring down at 'the princess'.  "That," he growled, “was a new uniform."

 

Isabel rose to her feet as the tall blonde soldier began to circle around her - his eyes never leaving her - as if he was scrutinizing his opponent's possible strengths and weaknesses.  Isabel backed away a couple of feet, joining her enemy in the ceremonial ritual.  "You are too confident General.  And you don't know your opponent very well."

 

Qunar kept his gaze fixed upon his moving target.  "You are weak, Vilandra.  You may put on a good front; but if I'm correct, from the bruises and cuts on your tired body, it's just putting off the inevitable. "

 

"You talk a good game, General..."

 

"Don't even recall my proper name, do you?"  Qunar sneered.  "And we were such good friends, before you attempted to prevent your family's death."

 

Isabel had had enough.  She slowed her pace until she came to a stop, confronting the General face to face.  "I don't need to know your name to kill you."  Raising her hands she released a large voltage of energy - larger than she'd ever seen before - aimed towards 'the General'.

 

Qunar raised his hands and formed a crimson wall of magnetic energy in front of him just as Vilandra's attack reached an inch from his face.  Extending his arms out in front of him, he removed the closing threat upon his mortal host and himself.  The powerful force that continued to stream from the tall, yet fragile being standing before him was intense and startling.  Qunar had never seen Vilandra mount such an extreme attack even when she did not have such a limited knowledge of her powers.

 

Isabel's hands were trembling as she continued the onslaught on her opponent.  If she were to succeed, she would again kill another living being.  The thought made her shudder.

 

Qunar felt a shift of focus in her attack and used it to his advantage.  He spun out of the linear stream of kinetic energy and mounted his own attack.  With one swift motion, dropping to the ground, Qunar gained the advantage on his now confused enemy.  Lifting his hands above his head, he sent out a short burst of plasma energy, which made contact with his stunned opponent.

 

"Uhhhh."  Isabel felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, as she had the wind knocked out of her.  Her left side began to sting and she smelled burnt flesh wafting into her senses.  Instinctively she pressed her hand to her injured side.  The warm, wet sensation of open flesh began to ooze through her fingers.

 

Quickly coming to her senses, Isabel spun around to face 'The General', whose hands remained extended and ready for one final blow.  Trying to gather her thoughts, Isabel saw images of Michael and Max's faces flash before her.  She shook her head and gritted her teeth.  It wasn't over yet.

 

Forgetting her pain and running on adrenaline, Isabel dropped her blood-stained hand from her side and concentrated on Qunar's grim and focused face.  He wouldn't suspect her mental attack before it was too late.  His focus was solely on her outward, physical attack.  She hadn't assaulted anyone in this manner before, but right now it was her only chance of living to attempt another physical attack.

 

Closing her eyes she searched intently for the guarded mind of the age old soldier.  In the dark, empty void she found a silent voice crying out, as if in pain and agony.  Isabel followed that voice.  And in the dreamscape that she formed within the conscious alien/man, Isabel found herself in a locked room.  Her eyes darted around for an exit, but the only entrance/exit was locked. 

 

"Please.  Help me...what's happening?" a shrill man's voice cried.

 

Isabel turned around and found a 30-year old man cowering in the corner.  "Who are you?"  The man cringed as she approached him.

 

"Who are you?" he lashed out.  "What's happening to me?"

 

Then it dawned on Isabel...this was the human host.  She looked around in the dark, dank and quiet mental prison.  "So this is what happens to you..."  Isabel whispered her thoughts out loud.

 

"Just get me out of here."

 

Isabel looked at the man, full of pity.  He couldn't imagine what it was like for him.  All of the soldiers she had encountered were real human beings, with lives and families.  And some of them would die in this forsaken desert tonight.

 

Suddenly Isabel remembered what she was doing in the dreamscape in the first place.  She turned to the human host and licked her lips, trying to think of how to explain what she was about to do.  Isabel let out a frantic sigh.  "I'm sorry.  This is going to hurt for a little while, but hopefully you won't remember any of this in the end."

 

The man looked up at her with confusion.  "What do you mea..."

 

Before he could finish his thought, Isabel turned and opened the palm of her hand.  In it, there was a ball of white light, about the size of a baseball, and she rolled it towards the locked door.  The psychic 'bomb' crackled as it slowly rolled towards the door.  Isabel turned towards the human host and looked at him apologetically.  "Protect yourself," she hissed.  "This is going to hurt...a lot."

 

With that, Isabel left the dreamscape.

 

Qunar was about to finish Vilandra off when his motor skills suddenly began to malfunction.  He looked over at Vilandra, who stood there unfazed at the knowledge of her imminent death; in fact, her eyes were closed and she was completely frozen, as if in a trance.  Qunar frowned.  What was going on?

 

He shook his head.  He didn't care.  He had waited too long already.  Now was his chance to mortally injure one of the Royal Four and accomplish one quarter of his mission.  Qunar raised his arm, slowly, as his temples began to ache again and he could hear the frantic cry of his host's consciousness, and prepared to maim his opponent in an effort to draw out his other opponent, and stronger threat.

 

Isabel awoke from her trance and found herself only moments from another devastating blow at Qunar's hand.  She looked down at her side, which was drenched in blood; a small pool of blood had formed at her feet.  There was no way she could possibly move quick enough to avoid his blast.  "Max."  She closed her eyes and accepted the fate sealed before her.

 

She had done everything she could.  The General seemed unfazed by her psychic 'bomb'.

 

Qunar focused all of his energy to mount another attack, when unexpectedly he felt a sudden searing heat invade his senses.  His head was pounding and his ears began to ring mercilessly.  "Aaaarrgh."  Qunar dropped to his knees as the pain overwhelmed him.  "What have you done?" he cried out savagely.

 

Isabel opened her eyes in time to see Qunar drop to his knees, with his hands clasped over his ears.  His face was scrunched up; the pain and agony he was in.

 

"You witch," he gasped.  Qunar opened his eyes and stared up with wild, manic eyes.  They were pulsing, changing from the normal crystal blue eyes, to a glistening ebony.

 

Isabel had never seen such a sight.  The muscle under his right eye began to twitch, as he seemed to be struggling with something internally, while endeavoring to rise to his feet.  Isabel could only watch, as she was now pressing both her hands against the flood that flowed from her unattended wound.  A sudden light-headedness began to come over her and her vision began to blur.

 

Qunar fought off the strong rise from the human host to extradite his consciousness from the cellular body.  With an overwhelming surge of energy, which left him almost breathless, Qunar sent the human consciousness back to its' prison; leaving him to deal with the weak, simpering hybrid before him.  He stood in full Antarian regalia, as he towered over the disheveled and bloody princess.  Qunar knelt down beside Vilandra and tipped her ashen face up, until her gaze was parallel to his.  "You kashkar," he hissed.  "I was going to wait until your brother could witness your slow death, but this is tiring and unamusing to me."  He pushed her down roughly, wiping the fingers, which had held her obstinate chin, on his dusty trousers.

 

~ * ~

 

"Get away from her."  Max encountered several soldiers while slowly making his way towards the two shadowy figures, lit under the harvest moon, and quickly dispatched of them.  He tried not to use fatal force, as he was reminded that there were human hosts involved.

 

Qunar spun around to see Zan staring smugly at him.  His race had always felt so superior to the Iturians.

 

How sweet it would be to exact revenge.

 

"General," Captain Leisner called, running up alongside his commander.  "We could not find..."

 

Qunar glanced at the captain with disdain.  "No need," he growled.  "They've kindly surrendered."  The corners of his lips slowly curled into a gleeful smirk.  "Haven't you, Zan?"

 

"Don't do it Max!" Isabel exclaimed weakly.

 

Max glanced down at his sister, who, under the pale rays of the moon, seemed to be seriously injured.  The small dark pool by her side seemed to be growing.  "Let her go," Max barked tersely.

 

"I don't think you're in the position to be giving orders, do you?" Qunar chided.  He glanced down at Vilandra, who had been drifting in and out of consciousness.  With a nod, Qunar motioned Leisner to take hold of the captive.

 

Max clenched his fists as he watched the soldier to Qunar's left, drag a weak and pale Isabel up to her feet.  He took a step forward her.

 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Qunar warned.  He glanced over at Vilandra once again.  It appeared Zan would have the pleasure of seeing his sister die.  The thought brought a smile to his face.  Finally things were working out as he had planned.

 

"You and I will settle this alone."  Max glared at the man who appeared to be an incredibly insane Halloween costume.  He glanced over at Isabel, whose expression was fearful and tired.  His proposition should have piqued the interest of the resolute General.  "A duel - winner gets Isabel."

 

"So reasonable," Qunar smirked.  "I've realized it happens when you feel that something is at stake.  He gestured for Captain Leisner to step back and give them room for the battle that was about to erupt.  This battle would be over in a matter of minutes.

 

Max rolled his shoulders back, loosening his tense muscles, and he watched Qunar do the same thing.  For his powers to flow freely, Max knew that he needed to stay relaxed.  He glared up towards the heavens and sent up a brief prayer.

 

Once Max had mentally and physically prepared himself, as much as he dared, he clasped his hands lightly together, rubbing them and feeling the hot, pulsing force that poured from some deep unknown source.

 

Everything depended on what happened at this very moment.

 

~~~

 

After much protest, Kyle reluctantly watched Liz and Jesse escape from their makeshift hiding place and scurry around the trail of bodies Max had left in his wake.

 

"Take the Evans' home," Liz had told him.

 

Kyle groaned inwardly, as he felt Mr. and Mrs. Evans' anxious and grave expressions bore into the back of his head.  Glancing one last time towards the lip of the crevice, where he had seen Liz for what could have been the last time, Kyle let out an exasperated sigh.  There was nothing he could do except take the Evans to safety - something Max had commanded him to do - without Liz or Jesse.  Silently he rebuked himself for allowing Liz and Jesse to walk out without a struggle.  Stupid.

 

Kyle looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Evans and shook his head free of his own preoccupation.  It wasn't the time or the place.  "We have to get out of here."

 

~~~

 

What could he really do?

 

Jesse followed Liz foolishly into the dangerously dark desert.  His heart was racing as they stumbled towards the small figures in the open desert.  There were possible killers littered across this area, and they had no assurance that they wouldn't pop up at any second.  At least Liz had powers...what was he going to do?  Threaten them with a lawsuit?

 

Jesse closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn't get someone killed by this insane stunt; or for that matter, himself.

 

~~~

 

Liz felt Jesse's trembling hand on the small of her back, as she attempted to maneuver around the several unconscious soldiers at their feet.  Spreading her fingers out, Liz cautiously sparked a tiny light, the size of a quarter, in an attempt to light the way.  Her powers had developed into something more than just changing atoms and healing creatures - now she could produce her own source of light.  She kept her new found powers quiet - unsure of how everyone would take it, especially so, since it began after her attempt to heal Max.

 

Before she could allow the light to assist her in traversing across the desert plain, her foot caught against something hard and she fell flat on her stomach.  It stunned her, but she was unhurt.  Liz had braced herself with her hands, but Jesse's unexpected weight atop of her knocked the wind out of her.

 

"Sorry," he whispered, struggling to get up.  He fumbled several times, causing her to grit her teeth in agitation.

 

Liz waved off the stuttered apologies.  She produced the small light once more, shining it in front of her, curious as to what had caused her to fall.  "Ahhh!"  Liz jumped to her feet; the grey, ashen face, which was inches from her own, filled her with an intense wretching feeling.  Its' eyes were opened and rolled back into its' head.

 

Liz took a few deep breaths, waving her hands frantically, as if stemming the flow of tears and the overwhelming urge to throw up.  She tried to gather what remained of her composure, when she heard Jesse beckoning her.  "Something's wrong," he said excitedly.  His arm waved frantically to the suddenly bright plain, where the trail of bodies seemed to lay fallen, indicating Max's path towards Isabel and the battle.

 

The immense harvest moon seemed to draw even closer from the infinite skies above, as Liz nervously approached the tension-filled scene that was being played out in front of them.  The General and Max were engrossed in each other, while Isabel and her guard seemed to watch intently.

 

"We've got to get Isabel, while they're distracted," Jesse exclaimed fearfully.  Liz held Jesse back as they peered anxiously upon the battle of wills.  "Aren't we going to do anything?"  His voice was shrill and angry.

 

"We can't just jump in."  As she looked on, she had no clue why she felt such calm.  It was as if she knew this event must take place. 

 

Jesse kept pushing forward, as she had a hard time holding him back.  Liz frowned; frustrated that he would not listen to her.  She glanced at him, noticing his focus was directed elsewhere; following his gaze, Liz realized why Jesse was so agitated.  As they slowly moved in closer, but remained hidden behind some wide boulders, Liz realized that Isabel's clothes were drenched in blood.  Isabel's usually fair face was ashen, almost grey; and her full lips were tinged purple.

 

Liz felt another wave of nausea come over her.  This was bad.  She felt her heart pounding against her chest as she forced her gaze over where Max and the 'General' circle each other.  Please God...

 

It was up to Max at this point.

 

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