“A scavenger hunt?” Nine looked over the intricately inscribed scroll. This wasn’t what she had imagined when she heard the pirate ship The Dark Dream had a new captain at the helm. Sonya had been full of bite at the meeting, almost commanding her crew at sword point to get along with each other. It was true that there didn’t seem to be the tight comradery and there were lots of grumbling, but that seemed to be commonplace in any group, especially among her kindred. As it was, there wasn’t much of a turn out at the mandatory meeting. The winged girl Vanatine showed, but she seemed to have a balancing problem. Nine wasn’t sure if it was due to the huge shift of center caused by her wings, or her inebriated state. Probably both. Amae was there, checking the attendance and frowning. A few of the menfolk from the bar also showed, but she had never been all that close with any of them, counting them more as a warm body than kindred spirit.

            First were the position changes. Of course Nine had no hard concept of what a Topmaster, Quartermaster, or Don did on a ship, nor did she really know the newly elected. Besides Nine knew is was the actions, not the post, that gave respect. Jager and Amidamaru would have to prove their worth to her by deed, not rank.

            There were problems trying to pin the representative pendant on Jager’s thick leathers. Nine thought about offering her blade, but she didn’t quite trust the freshly halved Hy. She realized she had gotten the “good” blade, but it seemed it didn’t trust the crew. And why shouldn’t it? They Were pirates after all. Rather than let the blade feed on the blood of the crew, Nine took her leave of the setting, holding the indignant weapon with a firm grip.

            “She is an interesting person. “This was Goury’s best description of the erstwhile mutant. The subject, as if on cue, came tromping down the stairs, having had a hard night’s sleep as her mouse-brown hair was sticking up in every which way possible. The sword; in this case the darker half of Hybrid, clung to her back. It was somehow welded with her nightgown, and off-the-rack knee length manufactured cotton shift with sunflowers that were way too bright and cheery for her mood. “Hi Meg!” Goury smiled.

            “.... morning...” and she walked right past the swordsman and an ever so vague familiar looking female tending the bar, and headed straight for the fridge. She barely had her eyes open, much less her focus, but she managed to locate a half carton of curdled milk and chugged most of the lumpy liquid down.

            “Rough night, Meg?” Goury guessed.

            “Damn sword wouldn’t settle down. D’s more paranoid than Hy ever was,” She jerked her thumb at the ebony blade clinging to her back. It bore two mars, as if something with silver chalk flake had lain across the steel and left two powdery white marks, but otherwise it seemed to smolder in a smokey black. “He kept rolling me over, trying to look out the window, trying to listen to the door, and dragging me along with him. He’s worse than a Saint Bernard puppy on a leash!”

            The girl behind the bar chuckled at the vivid imagery, and drew the mutant’s attention. “Do I know you?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

            The bartendress looked quickly to Goury than back again. “I... uhm... I live here... uhm... no....”

            “This is Morg’s sister Cris,” Goury interrupted quickly.

            “Oh. The new spell caster. You Did warn her, didn’t you Goury?”

            “Warn me about what?” Cris asked as she regained her composure. He held out her hand for a more proper introduction. “I’m Cristin Nikos, by the way,” she smiled sheepishly.

            The mutant wiped her hand on the oversized floral nightshirt before taking up the offered hand with a good grip. “I’m Megan. He didn’t tell you that magic and mutants don’t mix?”

            Cris furrowed her brow a bit, even as Marek leaned in closer, the big man having slipped quietly into the bar and was trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. “But.. Morgee was your Soothsayer, wasn’t she?” She did shake Megan’s hand, but could feel the strange sensations and was beginning to understand the concerns. Something around the small woman almost made magic curdle worse than the milk she drank. They both let go quickly and rubbed their palms on their respective clothing, trying tow wipe the tingling effect away.

            “Morg still is,” Megan insisted. “Even is she isn’t practicing. Being a Soothsayer doesn’t necessarily mean being a spell caster.”

            “Oh... I didn’t think there was a difference.” A movement in the corner caught both women’s attention. Jill’s little girl Lexy was once again crawling over her lupine guard Alanna.

            A smile crept up in Megan’s dour face. “Think of a Soothsayer more like a second opinion. Someone who can see different answers that I might not be able to. That and someone to pull my ass out of the fire when I don’t listen to them.”

            “She’s good at that,” Cris agreed. “Well... maybe not so much lately, but most of the time.” She gave a smirk that betrayed the family resemblance.

            Megan paused as another shadow slipped into the room. Drac, taking up flank next to Marek whom was ensconced in a hushed discussion with Goury, one of some privacy she judged by the big mans quirky gestures. She likewise had some questions as she tucked in closer to Cris. “So.. What happened to Morgaine? I mean she says she’s gone through all these changes but I don’t see them. Am I missing something? I know she killed some bad guy and she’s got a bunch of headhunters after her, but that’s about all I know. That and her involvement with Renea.”

            The girl’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s all you know? There’s tons more. Her and Renea got married. Then there was the dying... the coming back.. Being made human... Morg...” Cris’s voice dipped down even lower,” ... she got raped by Renea’s sire before she killed him... then there was Sydney.. And Danny...”

            “Teeth and Toenails,” Megan whispered back, matching the soft voice. “And I thought I had it bad. But.. Wait.. I thought Morg was human to start with, wasn’t she?”

            At this Cris shook her head, betraying a hint of pride. “No she was half elvin and half demon, like me. It was only recently she was granted humanity.”

            Now it was Megan whom shook her head at the gobs of information she had missed. Her gaze drifted back to the “boys” whom were now ogling one of Marek’s new blades, something he had fashioned for Goury. She sighed and turned back to Cris. “I swear, my head is such a sieve. How could I have missed all this?”

            The girl smiled sympathetically. “A lot’s happened. I’m sure she didn’t expect you to keep up with it all. Besides, she has told me a lot of stories about you.”

            “I’m sure she has.” The thought of what kinds of stories brought a smile to her lips again. She glanced over again as the boys played with the new toy. Unable to resist anymore, Megan made her way over to them, Cris following, but hanging back a bit. Smart girl, was all Megan could think of that maneuver as she reached her target. “That’s a pretty cherry blade, boys. Can I see it?” As Goury offered the sword over for inspection, the black weapon clinging to her back began to vibrate as if throwing a hissy fit, one that Megan chose to ignore. She balanced Marek’s creation on her finger, testing for the median weight, then spun the grip around a feigned a few thrusts and parries. For a weapon, it was too long for her and she almost gouged the floor a few times, but with an approving grunt, she handed it back to Goury.

            “I think Destroyer is getting jealous,” the blond swordsman insisted, pointing to the angry weapon as it shook on her back.

            “Well he’s gonna have to learn that he’s not the boss, I am.”

            Goury sheathed his new gift just as Lina made her way into the tavern. He watched as she went to Marek and took up a hushed conversation with the huge sailor. He could hear Draco’s name float up occasionally and he could guess that the young sorceress was searching for him. He turned back to Megan to catch her also ensconced once again in a quiet conversation, this time with the blade. Cris has slipped off somewhere, but something jogged Goury’s memory. “Did Cris tell you that Morg was upstairs? She’s got the flu.”

            “No, she didn’t,” Megan replied and promptly turned, heading upstairs to tend to her friend’s needs.

            As Megan ascended the stairs, Brimstone slipped into the tavern and up to Meli as she shuddered, the woman being vulnerable to the cold temperatures. Without a word, BS gimped over to the fireplace and knelt down, his knee squeaking a complaint, and stoked up the flames, much to Meli’s unspoken relief. He then took up a seat next to her as he tipped his hat in greeting to the menfolk and Lina. “Hello boys. Miss.”

            “Hey BS,” Goury answered back cheerfully. “What’s happening?”

            “Oh, nothing much. Can’t find Tim. Again. I finally finished renovating the room the girls tried rending apart. I hope you still got Megan strapped down.”

            “Tim’s missing?” Draco asked with some concern.

            “Well he’s not so much missing. It’s more like he doesn’t want anyone to find him.” He stood up and hobbled over to the bar and poured not only a drink for himself, but one for Meli as well.

            “Tim is not so terribly hard to find,” Meli insisted. “You just look for the dead body in the leaves.” She took the offered drink from the cyborg and stared down into the glass as if trying to study the contents.

            While BS and Drac bickered about what Tim’s real intentions could be, Lina poked Goury in the ribs and inclined her head towards the metallic man. “Does he know?” she asked.

            “Does he know what?” Goury asked in reply, totally clueless.

            Brimstone’s high pitched hearing mechanisms picked up the question clear enough. “Do I know what?” he asked Lina directly. When she bit her lip tight, he pressed onward. “Okay, who’s stalking me this week?”

            Lina shrugged off his questions by grabbing Goury and dragging him outside. Not to be thwarted, BS sighed and placed his palm on the windowpane facing out into the street where Lina discussed the situation; the one developing between Brimstone and Meli.

            “You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” Marek chastised. “If they want you to know, they’ll tell you.”

            “I beg to differ,” the ‘borg replied, frowning as he turned his hand, trying to clear up the reception. “I’d rather want to know if I’m gonna get stabbed in the back. Got enough unknowns on my plate to begin with.” He furrowed his brow. Something about Meli perceiving the would in a different way? Hack, he’d already figured that out. He grunted. Most of what they were whispering about were things he’d already suspected. Lina had this whole relationship based on romance. She clearly had it all wrong. “Bad enough Megan’s pregnant,” he grumbled then suddenly froze up, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the room. “Uhm... you all knew that, right?”

            “No,” marek replied, suddenly very sour. “And I don’t particularly care.

            Meli seemed either unaware, or uncaring of what was transpiring outside. She seemed very interested in Megan’s condition, and quite optimistic. “The gift of life is a wonderful thing,” she insisted.

            “Well, it would be if we had a vague idea of What she was carrying. You know who the father is, right?”

            “That would be Zelgadis.” Marek assumed out loud.

            “Okay, think about that. Her boyfriend is made of rocks. What about the baby? I mean Megan’s tough, but even I don’t think she’s That tough.” Brimstone had to shake his head at his vivid imagery.

            “Have faith, big man,” Meli insisted. “There are ways.”

            Brimstone’s attention on Meli was so strong that he was missing most of the conversation outside. Lina was concerned that Meli was falling for the cybernetic cowboy, and that Brimstone wasn’t sincere, or even suspected Meli’s growing affection, disconnected as it was. If Brimstone had been on the ball, he would have argued the point, but he had a fire to put out, having let a dangerous secret out into the non-mutated populus. “You know you guys can’t let Megan know that you know that she’s preggers. She’s got enough pressure rattling around in her brain.”

            “And what news of Rooslan?” Drac asked as he slipped inside, distracting BS further from the window while putting a smile on Lina’s face.

            “Oh, rumors, suppositions. Nothing concrete. No sign of a long haired shurienken thrower either.”

            “Well, I’m still toying with the idea of gathering everyone together at my place.” 

            BS thumbed his chin, having removed his hand from the window pane. He had gotten the message; even if Goury didn’t quite understand the level at which this game was being played. “I’m almost game for a desperate measure, Drac.” He almost smiled at the Vashtalian lizard’s surprised look. “I’m just about out of ideas. I’d feel a bit better though if we had some firepower to mow him down if he Did happen to show up. None of us are up to ‘snuff out a psion’ mode. My systems are still recuperating. Tim’s burned out. Megan has no outward power and Nine is unreliable at best.”

            Funny, Drac thought. Despite the odds stacked against him, Brimstone didn’t sound all that beaten. In fact, Drac could guess where the strength was that BS hinted at, and for once, he almost agreed.

****

            “Haven’t seen the tin can anywhere,” Megan insisted, pausing between bites of moldy food to answer Janis’s question. Claw’s wife had wandered into the Red Dragon Inn, looking for the lumbering cyborg. Instead she found Megan stuffing her face, with Goury at her elbow, still trying to fathom what was so different about his friend. “I’m not even sure he’s still functional,” she added sourly.

            As if on cue, Brimstone lumbered into the bar. “I ain’t dead yet,” he corrected as he paused to look over her shoulder at the foul plate of food Megan was shoveling down her throat. “Thought you had to be near dead to eat that goop.”

            “Beats eating what You cook,” she retorted.

            BS sighed and turned to look the room over, the red lensed eye falling finally on Janis. The similarities to a certain psi-hunter were amazingly close. “Kindred to Meli, I assume?”

            “Indeed. She is ... my sister.”

            He caught the hesitation. In Mutant circles, the hesitation would be due to not know truly one’s lineage. Most often Del Marians end up declaring each other cousins in order to bypass such messy family trees. This hesitation was an emotional one and he gave a wicked smile. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

            “I don’t know,” she replied, a bit confused by the line of questioning. “Is it?”

            “Dunno,” he echoed in a mocking tone. “You ever wanna rip her head off just fer breathin’?”

            Now she realized he was toying with her; testing the waters. “No, Sir. I would never.”

            “Ah! Then you must not think it a bad thing,” he deduced with a smile.

            Now she tried to turn the tables, seeing how the game was played. “And you, Sir? Does she not annoy you with her constant presence and inquisitions?”

            “Her? Now Way! She is just a peach. Better disposition than most of my clan.” As if response, Megan grabbed her dish and scooted further away down the counter, scowling sourly.

            “‘Peach?’” Janis asked. “You take her lightly?”

            “Oh no. I imagine she could blast my ass into slag if provoked. Not that it’s a difficult task nowadays. We’re sort of in a lull.”

            They continued to size each other up. Not in a threatening way. More like trying to analyze how each other thought. “I would ask further,” Janis ventured gingerly, “but I must stop the questions. Any more and I would then be taking the role of the mother, yet I do worry for her.”

            Now the ‘borg furrowed his brow a bit. “And why would you? Is she not able to take care of herself?”

            “Not in some circumstances, good sir.”

            He gave a slight smile again, the skin wrinkling where it joined to the metal. “Then I guess I’ll have to watch for those circumstances.

            While Brimstone danced around the Q&A, Goury turned his attention back to Megan. Her lip was curled high enough in a snarl that it sure made eating difficult. The current center of her ire was Drac as he slipped into the bar and took a quiet corner out of striking range. Goury pressed his luck, taking up Megan’s left shoulder and blocking her view of her cybernetic uncle and Vashtalian guard. “So, is that blade still giving you trouble?”

            It had been an educated guess and Destroyer was likewise pulsing in a red glow and it looked like Megan hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. “I can’t get the blasted thing to let me go!” she spat back, sending mouthfuls of spoiled food.

            Goury managed to avoid being decorated with the nasty mush. “So... I take it you can’t reason with it?”

            “Reason!?” Her voice cracked. “At least with Hy he’d let go occasionally.” She suddenly snapped to the right, just managing to grasp the hilt of the blade as it looked over her shoulder. She pulled hard, but she had to let go or risk being flayed alive as Destroyer’s grip on her skin was like superglue.

            “How about letting Drac’s blade try to reason with Destroyer? They are both sentient swords, are they not?”

            For once, the blond swordsman had a good idea. “Fine!” she relented. Just Make him Let Go!” She pounded her fist into the counter. Unfortunately it caught the edge of the plate, sending spoonfuls of mush all over the bar. Grumbling, Megan tried to wipe up the spotty mess, but only managed to spread snail trails of snot across the counter.

            BS saw the accident and sighed, picking up a bar towel to wipe the mess up as he continued his conversation with Janis. “Tim would just Love to take advantage of someone like Meli,” he warned.

            “She is not weak in that respect. Only to those who do not know better.”

            “Are you suggesting that I know her better?” He tossed the towel in the linen hamper and sat down across from Janis. It had been some time since he’d talked with any depth about anything. “Isn’t that the very nature of people, that we don’t understand each other fully?”

            “There are things, acts of what we presume to be rational behavior that she doesn’t not understand.”

            “Lemme guess. Romance. Love.”

            His reply made her raise a brow. Perhaps he did has a basic understanding of her sister. “She’s never had a mother’s love. The only source of affection she grew up with was being unchained for the evening, or given a solid meal for properly killing an opponent.”

            “So... she was a combatant. A slave trained to fight.”

            Janis nodded. “She mainly used a sword. Sometimes a flail.” She looked the ‘borg over a moment. “May I be blunt?”

            “Sure. I don’t mind critics.”

            “Do you have feelings for her?”

            He paused, looking over towards Megan and company for a moment. Drac’s sword Vanagald was glowing a deep red, almost matching Destroyer’s crimson colors. He could guess what was going on; both blades were communicating; assaulting their owners in a flurry of flashing pictures. Vanagald was trying to coax the darker blade into letting go of his owner. The chaotic weapon was giving Drac’s blade a discordant history lesson, pointing out all of the reasons why he wouldn’t. In all, Destroyer merely wanted to protect Megan from all the nasties that had attacked not only her, but her mother Aurora, and even those that threatened the Leukin family from which the sword was originally forged for. Vanagald had his work cut out for him and the engaging assault of imagery was intense for both bearers.

            BS nodded his head, then turned back to face Janis. “Yep, that was blunt.” As the woman frowned at his words, he relented. “Okay... if you mean am I madly-foaming- at- the- mouth- in - love with her? No. Do I care for her? Yes. She reminds me a bit of me. And she’s got a sympathetic ear. I’m not sure if she’s looking for anything physical; that might prove to be a problem, but I’m not going to push her into anything she doesn’t want or isn’t sure about. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.” Now he frowned as his explanation brought a beleaguered sigh out of the overprotective sibling. “I’m guessing that’s not what you wanted to hear, or even if that’s what she wanted to here. Frankly I’d rather hear it directly from her. Not like she need to hide it from me. I can feel it anyhow.”

            He didn’t know if Janis caught the bitter undertones or understood why. “I see,” she replied blandly.

            BS stood up. This grill session had finally gotten under his reflective skin and he didn’t feel like playing anymore. He redonned his cowboy hat, fitting it squarely over the metal bald spot that now leaned towards the left side of his head. “No you don’t,” he sighed, then added. “I’m and empath.” With that he moseyed out into the street.

            Janis pouted, crossing her arms as she watched the metal man retreat before she walked over next to Claw, the golden dragon in human guise having slipped into the bar to watch the swords “fight”. As she sat, the energetic tug of war suddenly came to a conclusion. Destroyer just dropped off Megan’s back, the quick release seeming to suck the fight out of Megan, making her slump to the floor and quickly drift off to sleep. Drac seemed a bit dizzy himself, but he still had enough strength to pick up the snoring Megan and gently lay her on the sofa, then place Destroyer by her side.

            Nothing would stay quiet for long. Tim oozed in form the dark side of the bar. He had followed Meli to the tavern, but somewhere along the line, she had managed to slip him up. Temporarily daunted, he readjusted the black leathers of his wardrobe and made his way to the counter, pausing only to look over Drac’s tenderings on his daughter. “She Finally got the thing to let go? Thank the Gods! She’s been so friggin’ tense that My teeth hurt.” He looked then turned and spotted Janis in the corner. The Shmooze was on. “Ah! Another fair maiden joins our merry group,” he leered. Soon the psi was leaning up next to her. “Who might You be, my pretty?”

            Janis just raised a brow. “I would be Janis. Claw’s wife.”

            Meli sat on the bench in the park opposite the bar. Thankfully she managed to slip away under the psi’s mental reach, a bit easier to do when brains like Goury’s were nearby to throw up a screen of confusion. Ac loud seemed to pass over her, then something shimmered into place next to her. At first she thought it was the psi and she tensed up, only to relax when she realized it was Brimstone. “How’s your hand healing,” he asked quietly.

            “You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she grunted, a bit concerned that he Had done so. She quickly burrowed the hand into her cloak before he could see.

            “You shouldn’t be so sneak-up-able,” he replied before sitting down on the bench next to her. “How’s the hand?” he asked again.

            “It’s fine,” she insisted.

            “It’s in a bandage,” BS pointed out.

            “Was,” she corrected.

            “Only because I saw you just now unwrap it. What happened?”

            Damn the ‘borg and his enhanced eyeballs. “I got marked,” she sighed. “It’s just a tattoo.”

            BS sighed then gestured for her to show him. She blinked a moment, then drew the hand out from the dark cloth. Indeed it was a fresh raw tattoo of a rose intertwined in strange symbols and codex. He slowly took her hand, twisting it gently around. She never imagined that his metal hand could feel so alive and warn. “So,” he grunted as he examined the strange decoration. “Is this reward or punishment?”

            “Reward.” She managed to slip her hand free and returned it quickly into the depths of the cloak. “See,” she insisted. “It was nothing.”

            “Getting a mystical tattoo is Not ‘nothing’.” He was frowning, but only for a moment. “Oh, what am I doing? I mean, all I do nowadays is just run a bar and listen in on things.. “

            She nodded, knowing that his bartending was Not all he did. What she did want was him to be at ease with her new adornment. “This is just a little something to remind me to take better care of myself...”

            “Or you’ll start looking like me?” he finished. Again he had that weak smile as he tipped his hat back to reveal the growing bald metal patch.”

            “No,” she sighed. “I.. Would just die.... I.. I Was... dying.”

            “Mel, hate to tell you, but that’s how things are. Death and rebirth. Break down and build up. Not much escapes these tides. We can cheat them, but only for a little while. Somebody comes calling on the debt, eventually.”

            Her gaze now dropped to the ground. “I was dying... until you wouldn’t let me.”

            That gave the big metal man pause. He stood up, folding his arms even as she averted her gaze. “Mel? You really think of me that way? Surely I’m not some sort of savior? What.. What did I do to make you not ‘die’?”

            “Not do. Said. I said I was dying, and you thought that surely there was some other way.”

            The cybernetic man nodded slowly, not exactly sure when and where he had said such things, but he guessed it must have been during some Del Marian fit of opposition. “Yes, that much is true, but just how much do you want to give up to accomplish it? You could very well end up like me; some sort of metallic mutant. Or you can cheat like Tim and hop bodies til you run out of compatible ones. Or you can let blind chance take “Hold of you like it did Aurora. There are Always alternative solutions.”

            She looked up at him with deep eyes. “That’s what you said last time. I found my solution.”

            “And that would have something to do with your new tattoo?”

            “Yes. Renewed. Please.. Don’t be sad.”

            She couldn’t quite fathom the borg’s mood. He had such a strange look on his face. “And you are happy with this solution to your problem?”

            “I don’t know. Should I be?”

            Meli was even more perplexed with his reply. “No,” he answered. “I’m happy for you. Not many have a chance to extend their expiration date. If I had a better choice than this...” he tapped the metal half of his face. “I’d be right there alongside you getting a tatt too, but we’re different. Too different, I think.” He sighed and shuffled a toe into the grass. He knew he should stay with her, find out more about the mystical ramifications of her new artwork and about her; but he also knew that kind of pressure upset her. That would make him just as bad as Tim.

            While Meli and BS danced around each other perceptions, Timothy was diving headlong into them. Claw was already on the defensive, resting his hand on his blade as he pulled his wife closer to him and away from the psi. “What do you want? And don’t try anything. She’s My mate and I would vaporize you!”

            “What? Me? Interrupt wedded bliss? How Could you all think me capable of doing Such a dastardly thing!?” This might have been a bit more believable if the Vashtalians hadn’t noticed the psi trying to retreated tactfully.

            Goury tried to shift the subject to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed. “I thought you were MIA?”

            Timothy had managed to somehow position himself behind the blonde swordsman, using him to block any attack Claw was debating on. “Well, you know me. Here. There. Everywhere. I’ve got a rep. To uphold.”

            Even Goury wasn’t fooled. “Times change, but your line of bull doesn’t.”

            The psi tossed up his hands. “Can’t kill a guy for trying, can you?”

            “Of course we can!” Claw snapped back, still holding Janis protectively near his side.

            This reply brought a grin to Tim’s face. “You wouldn’t want to spoil Megan’s only reason for keeping me breathing now, would you? So SHE could throttle the life out of me herself? That’s what she lives for, you know.”

            Claw had to give him that point. “I guess not. We still need you for bait anyhow.”

            “Oh yeah! That’s right! Bait. You wanted to pile everyone up into one spot and try to lure Rooslan out form him his rock. Sort of like using a bag of Skittles@. A little bit of everything. Gee. I’m tempted.” His eyes shifted again towards Janis, giving something between a flirtatious flutter of any eyelid, and a sneer towards her overprotective mate. Claw’s hand moved closer to the grip of his blade and once again Tim backed down. “Alright, Alright. I give. For now. Besides, you all got bigger fish to fry. See ya latter..” and with a bit of his black cowboy hat, he faded, literally, back into the woodwork, leaving one snoring mutant and several paranoid people.

            Yes, it was beginning to be another boring night in Tavern Draghkar after the recent throng of customers had left for home. Scarcely an hour after this little rush, Serenity Draghkar had left and her younger brother Draco had come in to take over. The only patron left in the tavern was a hooded figure in the corner who had told Serenity that she was waiting for someone, but Seren had apparently forgotten to tell Draco since in his cleaning he didn’t not even notice her once.

            Young Mevlina had then entered the tavern just when Draco was fixing himself a mug of ale. The Vashtalian lord turned just as ‘Lina had sat down on a stool at the bar. “Hellow, Lina. Can I get ya anything?”

            A shrug was her only answer and Draco kindly accepted it before the figure in the corner passed out, falling down next to her chair. Only then did Draco notice her and rushed over to the fallen figure and shook her shoulder gently. “Hello?”

            “What the bloody hell...” The lady asked as she scrambled to her feet and looked about

            “.. Are you doing sleeping on the floor in the corner of the tavern? I was thinking the same thing actually.”

            “I was waiting for Saarith,” the woman replied as she got back up on her chair and brushed herself off.

            “You mean my older brother Saarith? Who are you?”

            While introductions and explanations as to when and how Draco had been able to return to his family after is imprisonment by the realm of Veradia, none other than Saarith had walked in. He made his way straight to the bar to fix himself a drink before anyone could get a word in. Not to be shut out, Draco announced over the din. “Hey! Saarith! There’s someone here who’s been waiting for you. I believe it’s the lady you’ve been looking for all this time, right?”

            “Hrmm?” At this, Saarith finally looked closely at the third person in the tavern. “Heather? Where’ve you been love!? I’ve been looking all over creation for you!”

            By this time Heather had gotten up and started to walk towards him, almost unbelieving that her mate actually was real. “I don’t really know. I don’t think I was even on this planet.” She quicky explained her frustrations with the current land. All the people she knew and loved were illusions to taunt her, disappearing when she got close enough to touch. Thankfully Saarith didn’t dissipate.

            “Now how did you manage that?” Saarith chuckled, relieved to have found her.

            “Honestly I don’t know. I was walking the grounds when...”

            “The grounds? You mean back home?” Saarith interrupted, quirking a brow as he tried to figure this out. After a nod from Heather, he spoke up. “I’ll have to get with Lord Claw to reseal whatever portal you stepped through. There are hundreds of portals in this world alone that can lead to other areas of this same world, or to other worlds entirely. Claw was suppose to have sealed all the ones leading in and out of Vashtalia. Lina, I don’t suppose there is a way for a portal seal to degrade over time, is there?”

            “Hmmm..” Lina had to look down to think for a little bit before looking back up to Saarith. “No there isn’t. Portal seals just don’t degrade. However, one can break the seal if they know what they are doing or if they hire someone who knows how.”

            “Then we have a problem. Do you think that this Rooslan character may have something to do with this?”

            “It’s possible.”

            “Well if that’s the case, we still have a serious problem. There are three possibilities I see. 1) Rooslan could be having others try to break the seals on the portals in Vashtalia. 2) Veradia could be trying to break the seals, or 3) Somehow Rooslan has gotten in contact with the Veradian government and formed an alliance with them to do this. Either one or the other can be dealt with easily; but if both are working together, then we must decide which side of that alliance is the most threat.”

            Draco rested his arm on the now sullen Saarith. “Well brother, all we can do now is inform Lord Claw and then just reseal whatever portals have been broken. It should be easy enough for Claw to determine which ones have failed. Until we do that, we can’t really focus on anything else.”

            “Well that’s up to you guys. As for me, I have some things that I gotta take care of.” This said, Lina stood up and yawned.

            Draco stood as well. “Want some help Lina?”

            Lina shrugged, but allowed Draco to lean over and kiss her delicately on the cheek. With Saarith and Heather in tow, they closed up shop and went to finish their various duties.. 

            It was while the gang pondered what Rooslan's next move would be when Nine wandered in. This in itself was strange as the woman barely wandered far from the sewer hideout, save to get away from Brimstone and mutated company; but that she would seek them out was another twist as she clearly had some issues with the Vashtalian males. Her attention, however, was on a scroll she was reading. Somehow she was able to navigate around the tables and chairs without tripping over the legs. Defender was perched high on her back and was more or less navigating for her by leaning away from danger and thereby shifting her balance. Claw watched her take a seat, the paper still obscuring her vision. "Can I get anyone anything?" he asked as he saw Randall enter the bar, the scientist having followed Nine down the road and to the tavern.

            "Whatever crud you've got in the fridge will do," Nine replied, still reading the parchment. "And a beer to wash it down."

            Claw blinked at the odd request, but turned to see what he could find. Randall popped up at her elbow. She gave him a quick smile, betraying the fact that she really was glad to see him. "What's on the paper?' he asked.

            She showed him the fancy script. "The pirates got a new captain and she's got the crew doing some hair-brained scavenger hunt. I guess she's trying to get the crew to socialize and bond." She reached down, dipping her fingers into the plate of snot that Claw slid in front of her. Even as the mutant sucked on her fingers, Janis frowned, clearly not happy with the petite woman's latest fare and headed to the kitchen to remedy that shortcoming in her husband's choice of servings. Nine continued on, more or less oblivious to the movements around her. "It's the typical stuff; rusty dagger, pirate flag, broken flintlock, old sword. It's like they're trying to resupply their armory. I can dig most of the stuff out of Brimstone's horde. The only thing I probably can't get is one of Crow's cigar butts. I'm not suppose to steal or take it. He has to Give it to me. Guess I'll have to short that from my list."

            As she rolled up the parchment and wedged it in her belt, Claw frowned. "Isn't it a bit unfair if you dig it out of Brimstone's stuff? You don't really have to hunt then."

            "If she's gotta dig it out of his horde, that should be scavenging enough." Janis then slid the more palatable platter of bacon, toast, pancakes, and eggs under Nine's nose, knocking Claw's offering out of the way. Nine never missed a beat, digging into the new fare with the same gusto.

            "I suppose," Claw sighed.

            "Besides," Nine added in mid-bite. "Would You give me something if I asked for it? Especially if you didn't know me, that is."

            "I would," Janis offered, then pulled out a coaching of leather and unrolled it on the counter. The bundle head several knives of various types, some not in prime condition. She pulled out one of the rusted weapons and handed it to the mutant girl. "Here."

            Nine took the blade and almost cheerfully marked off the item with enthusiasm. "Cool! Thanks, Janis. Nice to know I can count of One of you."

            The jabbing comment went past Claw and he and Randall were already ensconced in deep conversation as the Vashtalian lizard relayed the disturbing news about Rooslan. Janis likewise ignored the snide comment. "I also know a pirate. She's in love with her first mate and is looking to leave her ship. I may be able to get her flag for you."

            Nine frowned, not at the offer, but the occasion which would bring the flag to her. "I don't get it. Your friend is in love, but has to leave. Why? Marek was the same way. What is it with relationships and work? Am I missing something?"

            Janis shrugged her shoulders. "If you are, then so am I."

            Nine turned to ask Randall as their situation was much the same, but she caught the tail end of their conversation. "Veradia is the realm of our enemy," Claw was explaining to Randall.

            "So what did you do them?" Nine asked out of the blue, even as she continued to stuff her face, sometimes picking from the less appealing one then dipping the toast in the greenish ooze.

            "We kicked their hides as well as all their allies," Claw answered back, barely concealing his pride in the accomplishment.

            "No, no no. What did you do to piss them off in the first place? What Made them become your enemy?"

            While Claw recanted the military exploits of his kingdom over the conglomerate rouge allies outside Vashtalian realms, Janis returned to the kitchen, and moments later emerged with a bowl of stew. Again she slid the food under Nine's nose, giving the mutant three options of sustenance. Still the shuffling of foodstuff didn't break her lecture. "There's your answer. I'd be quaking in my boots if I knew there were More of you out there. Sounds like you could of squished them at any time."

            "We all suffered losses," Claw replied.

            That answer didn't sit well with Nine as she snorted, sending a light spray of green slimed snot over the counter. "All I can say is that you've got a bitter enemy. Sounds ripe for someone like Tim or Rooslan to get into.. and they know all about portals."

            "I don't think Tim would want to start a war."

            Nine turned slowly to stare at Randall as he offered his insight. "He's really got all of you cowed, doesn't he? I've been watching that creep. He's got a lot on his plate. A lot."

            Claw clearly was upset by her observations. "Who has who cowed? No one has Me cowed! I'm just keeping my options open."

            The mutant ignored his outbreak and deposited the three empty plates into the sink before slipping out, finding herself skirting around Janis as the woman greeted her tattooed sister Meli at the door.

About half a block behind the dark robed woman was Brimstone, whom took the option of pretending to hide from Nine, more for appearance’s sake as Nine had clearly seen the lumbering metallic man weaving his way through the throng. Finding Meli chatting away with Janis, he turned his attention to the menfolk, blatantly eavesdropping on their conversation "I still don't thing Timothy is responsible for the portals. He may be a manipulative ass, but I don't think he would start a war unless he had everything to gain from it."

            "You think Tim wouldn't go that far?" BS giggled, snorting at Randall’s naive remark as if the chuckling actually hurt him somewhere deep inside his metal framework. "You really don't know him at all, do you? You think he's a manipulative clown. I'm telling you he's a cold- blooded killer. He has no heart. And this would not be the first war he's stirred himself into."

            Claw agreed. "If you think about it, Randall; now would be the ideal time."

            All three men grew solemnly quiet.

            BS was sitting out on what had become collectively nicknames "the View", where most of his beloved bar had been blasted from the foundation and forming an open aria. Very pretty, but not quite what he had intended. He was currently tinkering with the right arm, trying to get the cannon to retract smoothly. One of the supports kept snagging on the outside housing.

            "Having fun?" Meli said from behind him.

            "No," he admitted as he dropped the screw driver and using his fist to slam the cannon back into place. He then turned to smile sheepishly at her. "I see you're just walking in now instead of hanging around the front door. That's good. You must be getting used to us."

            "I didn't use the door."

            "Oh." He left that admission alone. Magic was not a good subject to broach, though he did wonder how come it worked for her, especially around the bedrock of mutantdom. "Still, you're inside. Care for a drink?'

            "No she replied but followed him as he retrieved a beer from the fridge and drained it in three gulps, tossing the empty crushed can into the trash. "My sister is looking for me, so I've just been wandering about."

            He quirked a brow. "Hiding from her?" he ventured.

            "No. I just don't want to listen to anything they have to say anymore."

            "Yeah. They can be annoying, can't they?" He grabbed can number two and repeated the process. "Just try not to think too loudly. You never know who might be listening."

            "Why not just block the brain waves?" she asked.

            "Easy for you to do. I'm not that sophisticated. Anyhow, how's that tattoo thing going for you?"

            "It has changed."

            "For better or worse?" To answer him, she held out the branded hand. Indeed the tattoo had changed. IN place of the rose was three swords connected by a snake that sprouted from the rose vine. He squinted, the red lensed eye rolling in and out as it tried to focus. "Well, it's pretty." He wasn't sure if the change was good or bad. Perhaps it wasn't either. He released her hand and she quickly hid it back under the robes.

He parked himself on the couch, though he seemed a bit ancy. "Something wrong?" She finally asked as she sat down next to him.

            "No... nothing wrong... It’s just.. well.. We're alone for once and I keep waiting for something to go horribly wrong, or for a fight to break out, or a war to erupt, or the mountain to fall down completely. It's too... quiet."

            As he spoke, he watched the change in the weather. Billowy clouds seemed to congregate just over the hideout, then darken. Thunder rolled in the distance. "Please don't do that," he begged her.

            "Don't do what?"

            "Flash flood. My poor bar can't take much more abuse."

            "Very well," and the impending rain backed down as readily as it had formed.

            He now looked her over slowly. Not afraid. More curious. "So you're an elemental too?"

            "I am everything."

            "A god?" he ventured, though again without the fear that normally would accompany such a question.

            He did seem a bit relieved when she did shake her head no. "To the Creator, I am nothing."

            "An angel then?"

            This never was answered as Randall strode into the room, looking for a cup of coffee. Meli instantly withdrew, pulling the hood of her cape tightly over her face. Brimstone tried to scowl, but it was hard to be mad at so amiable a fellow. "Where's your loving, sweet, kind, better half?" he smirked.

            "Sleeping. Nine's snoring woke me up."

            "You've taken up in her bed?" He sounded incredulous, but the laughing tone behind his eyes betrayed him. "Wait til she finds out."

            "No, no, no! I have the cot in the room next to hers!"

            The 'borg had to snicker, seeing the near panicked look on the man's face. "Dude, You have The most screwed up relationship I have ever seen. I haven't ever seen the two of you kiss even. Are you Sure you're her boyfriend?"

            "Let's just say she still needs her space sometimes."

            "About fifty feet," Meli added sourly.

            This was getting better and better BS thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. "By the by, has there been any sign of her powers coming back at all?"

            Randall rubbed his shoulder where she had punched him playfully eariler, leaving a deep bruise. "Her strength is definitely coming back. As for her talent, nothing yet."

            The smile slipped from the metal man's face. "I was hoping. Her strength and healing properties are coming in fits and spurts. I had figured the same for the psionics. So much for the trifecta."

            "She could be repressing it," Meli pointed out.

            "Yeah but going toe to toe with Megan would have triggered it. If Nine is anything like Aurora, she'd be packing a wallop of a punch. Everything is in place. I just don't know why the psionics haven't resurfaced. I need some sort of sign."

            "Ask her for one," Meli suggested.

            "No," Randall countered. "That may backfire."

            "Ask me what?" Nine asked as she padded into the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. This time she was clad in a knee-length t-shirt and was sporting pink rabbit footies. Her hair was tossed everywhere, pushed up in the back by Defender as he clung to her hinder-end.

            "BS was just wondering if your talents had come back yet," Randall informed her.

            Nine tensed up noticeably. "I'm doing okay.. really. I'll be tip top in no time." She then opened the fridge and rummaged in its depths, finding some orange juice with a nice layer of fuzzy green across the top and poured herself a glass, felt chunks and all.

            The 'borg wasn't blind and slid away from the moody girl and closer to Meli, whom likewise leaned into him. "Too many people for the comfort zone." she murmured.

            Randall tried to inject a mode of happy feelings. "We won't push you," he insisted.

            It was too late to sully Nine's sour mood. "No, but you really need someone with a punch. Tim ain't forth crap. BS is shorting out." She gestured towards the cyborg whom had already slipped down the hallway, escorting Meli to the beachhead where she could find some relief. Nine grumbled, seeing her uncle gone, then slammed down the now empty glass. “I know you want me back up to par, and trust me, I've been trying. I can't get nothing to move, float, or explode! Not a thing!"

            "Calm down!" Randall cried out, seeing her getting all worked up yet again. "It will come back in time!"

            "Calm down!? We've got a psychopath out there and we have no means to defend ourselves!"

            The arguement inside could be hear well enough outside where Meli and BS took advantage of the afternoon balmy conditions. But even the nice day couldn’t take the load off Brimstone. "I could kill him for you," Meli offered. "And take his soul."

            BS inhaled, taking in the sea air as if he also needed a break from the building pressures inside. "If you could, do you thing that any of them in there would believe he was dead? We need a body. Proof positive. Tangible evidence."

            Meli also dropped her hood, taking in the breeze, then turned slightly, looking him over. He had rust spots showing up on his face, old wear and tear by the appearance. "Are you sure you like being mostly metallic? This sea air must play havok with your joints."

            "It has its rewards, and drawbacks.. much like being mostly flesh would. I'm just spiraling towards an inevitable end. Hey, but don't you fret about me. You've got enough to worry about. Those headaches still bothering you?"

            "No. I am better."

            "Good. I'd hate to thing you were picking up the feedback around here. Gets noisy at times."

            "It doesn't matter," she insisted. "Besides, I feel so... useless.."

            "Useless? You?!" Indeed the 'borg seemed very surprised that she had such a low interpretation of herself. "You're the best thing we've got going mental wise. You Did manage to track Tim down. None of us can make any move against Rooslan until he moves first."

            "But I almost got shot in that last skirmish with the clone," She almost whined.

            "Hey, don't feel bad. I've got all this tech. stuff and he pretty much steam rolled over me."

            This didn't brighten Meli's disposition any. "In comparison to the things I have dealt with in the past, he is nothing more than an amoeba."

            "Then think of him as a germ, a rather virulent germ. Tiny but dangerous."

            "He is not dangerous," she pouted.

            "He's dangerous enough.. given enough supplies.. and that mutant material can be quite powerful, as we have seen." He held out his arm, showing the extent of the damage during the last battle. "That clone nearly turned me into a pretzel... and he infected me with something... I'm not sure what. That's why the nanites haven't been up to snuff lately."

            This explained some of his appearance to her. "May I?" she asked before resting her fingers on the exposed arm, looking down at the rust and wear on the metal joints. He flinched at the touch, but didn't pull away. Finally she looked up at him. "You need to oil this arm or the rust will eat right through it. If you need some help, I would suggest going to Marek. He understands these things better than I."

            The robotic man looked down at the damages inflicted all over his body. “I suppose I’ll have to upgrade. Maybe something in Teflon. That doesn’t rust, I don’t think.” He gaze now rose to the pretty clouds rolling in over the blue-green sea. “Used to be I could drift on those thermals. Now I just sink like a stone.” She looked up at him, wondering what he must have looked like before his first “upgrade”. He nodded, catching her eye. “Yeah. Once long ago I used to be all flesh. Spread my wings to the sun. Power dive into the ocean for my dinner. I miss it at times.”

            Meli’s gaze didn’t drop. She continued to study this man’s face. “Do you look forward to death?”

            Another long sigh escaped the metal man as he pondered the question a moment. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. I’m still mortal, and us mortals do fear the unknown. Can’t get much more unknown than that.”

            She nodded her agreement. “Are you going to go back?” she asked quietly

            “Inside? After she mellows out. Those temper tantrums she throws grind on my mind and teeth. The feedback is stiffling. I wish Randall would just straighten her out once and for all. She become quite the bully.”

            “That’s not what I mean’t,” she pouted. Knowing he was avoiding a bigger question.

            “Back home, you mean’t. Actually I try to avoid home. Too many factions. I can only feed around the edges of that for a while before I get roped into one side or another.”

            “And the rest of your party. Would you prevent them from returning home?”

            Now he turned and looked down at her. “You’ve Got to be kidding. Tim’s been venturing back there almost on a daily basis. I’m almost sure of it. We’ve known that Aurora’s been vacationing there, and I’m quite sure there are others popping in and out all the time. I can’t prevent them. As to Nine and Megan, I’m guessing that they don’t Want to go home for whatever reasons.”

            “Then why does Randall worry so?”

            BS shrugged, one shoulder squeaking in protest. “I’m guessing is that Nine and Randall are Kindred spirits. She won’t leave him here. Heck she tried to make him go home when this whole Rooslan thing broke out ‘cause she thought Rooslan would use Randall as a target or a shield. No, she won’t leave him, but I think he’s afraid that she’ll die trying to protect him. That’s what they were bred to do. Protect. That’s why the militant picked the women folk for field work to begin with.”

            Meli still seemed unsure. “When all of this is over, will you leave. When everything is said and done?”

            He had to smiled down at her. “Hon, it’s never over... ever. That’s our curse.”

            “It will end,” she insisted. “There is always and ending.”

            “Not in my lifetime,” he replied.

            "We just need you hale and healthy first, Dear," Randall tried a calm voice, but to no avail. In fact Nine was on the verge of pulling her hair out to prove she wasn't in form. "Healthy?! Every step I take forwards make me take two back. I'm Never going to be at full strength." She turned slightly, having caught a glimpse of Drac sneaking into the room, and her ire shifted. She scowled, then spun on her heal and headed to the kitchen, opening up the fridge nd reaching in, taking fist fulls of whatever was in reach inside the icebox, stuffing her face.

            Drac gestured towards the growing mess. "What's up with Nine?" he asked Randall.

            "Well, she never was a morning person, but I think this is because BS asked if her psionic talent had returned any."

            A stiffled scream snorted from the fridge as Nine overheard him, but she continued her gluttonous fit. It seems she was taking her frustrations out on the defenseless food. With a final swing of the door, she slammed the fridge shut, rocking it back on thin feet, almost tipping it over.

            Drac did his best to supress a smirk, fearing that would enrage the already moody mutant. Randall had a better idea to avert her sour mood. "Hey Nine, I've still got that tape from when the ship crashed. I found a copy in BS's stuff. I think you need to take a look at it.

            It sure did catch her attention. She paused and turned, having already stuffed her face with food and now resembled a rabid chipmunk. "Uhmmm fumphf." She tried to swallow the massive mouthful but was unable to, but her hands where free and she grabbed both Randall and Drac by the elbows, almost dragging them along to BS's workshop.

            It didn’t take long for Randall to set up the recorder, projecting the images on a flat piece of sheer rock wall light enough to show the image. Both Drac and Nine leaned in close, watching the details as the scene unfolded; the initial project start ups, the first vestiges of power channeling through Nine’s body and her ability to funnel it back through the generators. Then the flash in the main room and the subsequent break up first of the machinery behind Nine, then the room itself before the picture was lost. Nine’s nose was almost flush against the wall. “Hey.. Sonova.. Back that up a few seconds, will ya Doc?” The scene repeated, slower in frame time as Nine examined something behind where her image laid strapped to the operations chair. “There!” she exclaimed, pointing to a distortion in the picture. “Right there. There’s a GUY in there! Someone Teleported into the room! He’s a mutie!”

            Drac had also leaned in, just making out the vague image. “Yes, I do believe she’s right. Could that be the fellow that rudely attacked us before?”

            “I dunno..” She squinted, trying to make out anything familiar, but between the rift forming in the room and the following explosions, the camera had not been able to define any finer features. It was by a slip of the eye that she happened to catch the energy readings posted at the bottom of the feed tape. “Whoa.. Randall,” she breathed, her eyes bugging wider. “Did you catch this? The turbines are down at this point, but the energy levels in the room are still amped way up.. What gives?”

            Randall nodded, though he had seen the stats before. “That’s the power feed being amplified by you at this point.”

            Nine continued to stare at the screen. “But.. These waves. I NEVER tested this high in simulation..”

            “Believe it or not, Hon; it’s all you”

            She stared, awstruck at the screen. “No wonder they were afraid,” she murmured.

            Megan made her way down the dark staircase in a midnight raid on the Red Dragon Inn's pantry. She was adorned in a 3/4 length t-shirt with and angelic teddy bear emblazoned on the front, matching the pink slippers on her feet. Only the dark broody sword hanging over her shoulder and her normal dour disposition seemed to offset such a cheerful composition. She was oblivious to any and all actions in the bar. Though the establishment seemed empty enough, feeding her belly was first and foremost on her mind. Her first stop was the icebox. Looking to satisfy some strange taste, she sampled everything, dipping her finger into every bowl and cup in an attempt to squelch the urge.  A soft voice spun her around, her hand reaching up to grab the hilt of Destroyer, but what she saw made her pause. "Renea?" she gasped.

            The red headed vampire turned human stared at her longtime border. It had been months since she'd left, but it was nice to know that some things didn't change. The blade looked a little different, but the mutant munching on the moldy food was a pleasant staple to see. It was an added bonus that the mutant slid her weapon back onto it's perch and rushed up to envelope Renea in a bear hug. She did notice that the normally rib-crushing strength didn't seem to pack the same wallop. The tongue-lashing did. "Teeth and Toenails Renea! Where in the wild world have you been? Gods, we missed you! Didya get all fixed up? Everything okay dokay now?"

            "Yes, yes." Renea patted the smaller woman's back. "Everyfing's all even keeled now. S'good t' see ya. And you?"

            Megan finally released her. "I'm fine. The blade's all screwed up, that's all." Even now she had to grab the blade as it vibrated angrily. "It sort of got divided back up into its two original parts. This is the Destroyer half. He's a wee bit paranoid." She finally quelled the weapon by giving a quick open-handed strike on the pommel to stun it back into submission.

            "I don' fink ih' like's me much," Renea noted.

            "It's okay. He doesn't like anybody."

            "Why don't you just lock him up in the closet?" That suggestion came from Morgaine as she made her way down the steps. She had heard Megan's boisterous greeting and had figured the mutant just found out that Renea returned. Of course Renea had been back for well over a week, but Morgaine knew that her short friend looked at the world just a little differently. You almost had to club her over the head with any non-threatening change.

            "Locking him up just makes things worse," Megan answered. "All he's trying to do is defend me from anything potentially bad... which is everything. I've tried to explain things, but he don't listen too well."

            "Y'know." Morgaine smirked as Renea slipped into the kitchen for a snack. "I don't think I'll ever understand this talking blades thing."

            "Well he doesn't really talk per se. It's more like a hum and lots of flashing pictures, especially when he gets real hyper." She turned and leaned over the counter, watching Renea chug down a glass of milk. "Hope the place is still up to par for your tastes."

            "You 'elped?" Renea seemed surprised.

            "I tried, mainly by keeping Brimstone and company out. They've decided to camp out up in that mountain out there." Renea did look out, noting the mountain standing out in the moonlight seemed a bit shorter and somewhat concaved in the middle. She would have asked more of the mutant but found herself suddenly a bit weakened and leaned up against the counter. Morgaine just about pushed Megan out of the way to reach the woman's side as concern spread across her face. They whispered quietly, so softly that even Megan couldn't catch the whole of the concern; but even the thick-headed mutant knew when to back down and she gave the girls room to murmur their secrets between themselves and turned to the bar.

            The first man at the bar showed his fighting spirit, the charcoal skin seemed chalky, betraying an old illness, though he still looked like he could swing the massive broadsword hanging on his back. The ire of the first man’s violet eyed stare was an elf staring back with as much challenge in his eyes. Instant brawl, Megan thought, but since it hadn’t escalated into a fist fight just yet, she decided to try to find something to settle her stomach. An ash tray filled with walnut shells seemed to fill the bill. She grabbed a handful and began to loudly chew on the broken bits. No meat had been left behind, so it was no wonder that the two strangers stared at her.

            More familiar faces wandered in: Marek on a mission to deliver a new blade to Meli, whom he had just met outside the tavern and suggested they come in for a drink. Everything was fine until Marek drew out the newly polished blade. Destroyer immediately sounded out, vibrating against Megan’s spine before trying to slide off her back. While both gentleman watched, Megan at first pinned the angry weapon against the counter with her back, then grabbed the hilt and quickly snapped her wrist, laying the sword flat on top of a stool before jumping up on the seat, effectively pinning Destroyer under her bottom. The blade bucked, almost unseating her twice, but was unable to escape his mistress without inflicting damage upon her posterior. 

            Marek took notice of Megan’s unruly weapon and sheathed his own blade, but continued to argue with Meli in the same hushed tones that Renea and Morgaine talked in. The subject that the big man had on his mind was clearer as Megan was able to catch the word “Brimstone" in their conversation. "You know my stinkin' good-fer-nuthin uncle wanna be?"

            Marek seemed uneasy about the whole subject. He ignored Megan's question and stood abruptly. "I left some metal in the fire. I gotta get back to the shop." He leaned in closer to Meli. "Either get him out of your head or stay the heck away from here," he hissed softly before leaving.

            Undaunted, Megan now turned her attention to Meli, whom had withdrawn back into the safety of the dark folds of clothing. She watched as Megan struggled with the ebony blade, then recognized her. "I know who you are. You're one of Goury's friends, aren't you?"

            "Yeah!" Megan seemed relieved that someone was able to earmark her. "You know where he is? Or Zel? I need to talk to them."

            "I honestly don't know."

            Almost unseated a third time, Megan turned her attention back to Destroyer, grabbing him by the sharp end and tucking him under her arm, pinning him to her side. The weapon relented, not wanting to hack off her arm in a struggle.

            The elf at the bar did lift an eyebrow, wondering why her ordinance seemed so animated. His gaze turned and he caught the other man at the bar staring at him. The challenge was in the air, first initiated by the old man. “Is something the matter, ‘little elf’?” he snarled. “I’ve dealt with your kind before.”

            The elf snorted back. “Your kind are all the same. You show fearless yet your life’s blood is delightful to sap. It is like draining your pride.”

            The older man really didn’t want a conflict. “Fearless? Prideful? You judge me like all elves, assuming that I am an elf.”

            Again the younger creature snorted. “You are all the same. Even the so called ‘rogue elves’ are no different than the rest of you. If you have been cast out, then your view on the world must have changed.”

            Rouge elves? The man wondered if the younger elf saw him for what he was. “To be cast out is one thing. To leave of your own volition is another. Regardless, you know nothing of drow.” and he pulled his own hood back, revealing the blond locks and dark skin of his heritage.

            “None the less, you are what you are! How Dare you defy Me!”

            “Excuse me? Gentlemen?” Megan had made her way between the two men, holding her dark weapon behind her back, securely in place with her left hand, even as he struggled and whined in a light high pitched hum. “There will be No finger wagging about parentage in This bar, Buckos! If you’re gonna have a fight, take it outside. If you’ve got a thing against half breedS, mutts and mutants, this ain’t the place for ya to start in.”

            The drow had assumed by her wording that if he stayed inside, no fight would break out. The elf, however, decided to test that theory by charging, wrapping the remnants of chain around his fists and lunged in for the punch. To her credit, Megan did try to stop him, bringing Destroyer up to bear, but the blade was more willing and she had to shift her weight to stop the blood thirsty sword from cleaving the elf in half. Unfortunately, she ended up with a face full of chain and it knocked her out cold.

            Thankfully Goury walked in before Megan could sustain any more fistwork and the blond swordsman broke up the battle to save the mutant from being trampled. It was the younger elf that whirlwind in a hissy fit destroying much of the furniture in a tumultuous temper tantrum before blowing out of the bar, leaving his drowish kinfolk behind. “Such chaos resulting from such a trivial matter..” he murmured.

            “What was that guy’s problem?” Goury asked as he returned from depositing Megan in her room, then tried to upright some of the less damaged furniture. 

            “I believe he was mad that I was contradicting his motion that all individuals of any certain race are all the same as others of their race. I consider such as stereotyping, personally.

            “That is like saying all humans are the same and there is no deviation in skin color. No one being of a race is exactly “Like” Meli added. She had managed to stay clear of the fight and was very glad it was over. She turned to Goury. “Marek was here, but he left. I think your friend upset him. I believe she thinks that Marek is stuck on Nine.”

            “Megan said that? I apologize. She gets it from her father Tim. I think sometimes she is more like him than she cares to admit. But what was Marek saying about Brimstone that caught her attention?"

            Meli instantly recoiled. "I don't believe that is your business."

            Goury seemed confused, then realized what she must have thought. "Oh no, no. If you and BS are friends, then it is none of my business."

            While they chatted, the drow leaned back, only vaguely listening in on the conversation. He was more impressed that these humans didn't instantly take a dislike to him and try to kill him as most people would have done. Perhaps there was hope for him yet in this world. As he sat, another drow slipped into the room, then smiled as he pulled his cowl back, revealing the bluish skin and blanched hair before stretching his hand out to the previous drow in greeting. "Good eve," this darker drow spoke. "I am Fereden Do'Urden."

            "Do'Urden? Are you kin to Drizzt Do"urden?"

            The newcomer's ears twitched a bit. "Yes, but I am sure he does not know me."

            "Well met then. I am Isilriel Lightfeather."

            They sat quietly, listening in on the strange conversation Goury and Meli were involved in. Isilriel hadn't wanted to intrude, but found the walnut-shell-chewing girl Megan some what of an enigma. Goury didn't seem upset by the blow she took, so the drow assume the woman was still alive, but the punch the elf had thrown ws not some mere love tap. Isilriel was listening for some enlightenment.

            Instead the discussion seemed to drift to a person named "Brimstone," apparently the girl's uncle. And apparently Meli had some mixed emotions about the man. "Meli," Goury had Chastised. "Talk to the man. Randall says that he's sure the big guy has some feeling for you."

            "But I'm not sure I can have feeling for him. Every time I try to talk to him about something important, something happens."

            "Just try, Meli."

            Nine was busy in the hideout, digging through one of BS's closets while BS watched from the opposite end of the room occasionally dodging a flying piece of clothing, footwear, or weaponry as Nine excavated. It was in this remodeling phase that Meli entered, flanked by the set of dragons that Brimstone had raise almost from eggs. She watched the growing pile with Randall as he came out from his workshop to find out what Nine was swearing about. Apparently she wasn't finding what she needed and her vocabulary grew more prolific in curse words and volume. "There's nothing on this friggin list in here! Just all this damn high tech crap!" and a set of blasters came whizzing out. BS ducked just in time.

            Finally she emerged from the closet covered in cobwebs and dust bunnies. Her hair hadn't been combed out in two days and she was still sporting her sleepwear; sky blue footies matching the knee length "Mattitude" t-shirt. She dropped her only discovery, a rusted cutlass bent in two places as if it had been used to pry open something very heavy at one time. "Well that's two for the scavenger hunt." 

            "Maybe we can find some stuff over at Redfish's place," Randall offered, keeping well back from his lady love, knowing she wasn't in a mood for coddling. 'Course she Never was in a mood for any coddling.

            He was answered with a grunt as Nine dragged her prize behind her as she headed into the kitchen for a victory snack.

            Meli's attention was on the twin dragons. "Sit" she asked them quietly. Two butts slammed to the floor in unison. They waited for whatever treats she had, but quickly realized that she was not going to pamper them and they stood back up and meandered down the hallway, bumping off each other's sides in a rough shoving contest.

            She turned to watch Randall approach BS with one of his scanners in hand. "I've been meaning to ask you something, Brimstone. I found one of my data tracks in among your supplies in the tool corral. How did you get it?"

            "Oh.. that.." He waited to make sure that Nine was out of the room before continuing. "Well, it's like this. It's not that often when a big honkin spaceship crash lands into this place. I had to comb through quite a bit of wreckage to get anything salvageable. When I found that, and saw what was on it, I had to work in it some. There's some questionable footage, mainly about who sabotaged youse guys. I had to make sure first."

            Randall almost waved the reader as if it were a weapon. "You saw that whoever sabotaged the console teleported out."

            "I know."

            "That person may have been a mutant too."

            "I know."

            "And the reading showed that Nine was sending power levels off the scale, even After the generators blew."

            "Saw that too," BS confessed calmly.

            A crash in the kitchen gave Meli the cause to go see what the trouble was about. There had been several loud bangs and a couple of crashes and that didn't sound productive. When she opened the door to the kitchen, she saw Nine laying on the floor, halfway crawled in one of the cabinets as she tossed out pan after pan. "Can I help?" Meli offered.

            "I'm looking for a wok," Nine's voice floated up from under the sink.

            The tattooed woman tilted her head slightly. "What is this in the sink?" she asked as she lifted the missing pan from the cold-soapy water.

            "You found it?" Megan wriggled to extricate herself from the pipes and emerged, standing slowly to see Meli's prize. "Ah.. there it is." She kicked the other pans out of her way and sat the wok, soapy water and burnt food still clinging to the metal, on the stove to boil. This left Meli to follow behind carefully stacking the splayed cookware and returning them neatly to the cabinets.

            Randall waited until Meli left before continuing his cross-examination, feeling the 'borg was leaving something out. "I never imagined she could generate such levels," he confessed.

            Brimstone went through the motions of drawing out a cigar and preparing it, biting off one end, using the small butane torch in his finger to light it. "I've seen it before. I'm surprised it stayed that contained. You trained her well." He looked up slightly, seeing the confused look on the scientist's face. "You know she could have ripped you all to bits if she had lost control, right?"

            The thought Had crossed Randall's mind, but he continued to hold some belief that the chamber had helped to keep her focused. BS looked about for a minute, then gestured for Randall to follow him into the workroom. Tools and metal were scattered all around, resting on tables, seats, and floor; remnants of various projects the tin man was working on. He held up a device, much like Randall's only more intricate, and once again played the ship's death-knell scene. He paused it just as the shadowy image emerged into frame. "Watch," Brimstone instructed as he twiddled with various knobs. The image became clearer, sharper.. just enough to show who was behind the attack: Tim.

            "What!?" Randall gasped ans he grabbed the hand held monitor, looking closer at the image.

            Brimstone rested a calming hand on the scientist's shoulder. "Now I'm not exactly sure if that's him. It could be Tristan, but Tristan's too vain to dye his hair black. Could be one of those alternative Tims, like Nine being a version of Aurora. Whose to say if their ain't more dopplegangers about." Randall looked up at him with such hope that BS didn't have the heart to string him along. "I'm pretty sure that's our boy," he confessed quietly. "You can guess why I didn't bring this to light earlier. But this all now carries the question... Why would Tim do such a risky maneuver?"

            There was a shout in the kitchen as Nine had tried to grab the handle of the wok and nearly seared the skin off her fingers. While she danced around Meli made an attempt to remove the boiling pot, but took the foresight of wrapping the end of her cape around her hand before grabbing the handle and easily removing the dangerously hot item and setting it back in the sink and proceeding to clean out the soapy mess inside. "But that was edible!" Nine insisted. Meli ignored the mutant's protest and set about to make a basic stew. It took some scrounging but within fifteen minutes, the pot held a thick soup worth eating.

            While the girls puttered in the kitchen, BS and Randall continued their discussion. "The Skipper had a lot of political enemies. Maybe Tim was working for them?"

            "Possible. Or maybe he was screwing around with your commandant much like he mucks around with everyone else. Needless to say, I wouldn't bring this up around Nine. She's volatile enough."

            Randall still was in a state of denial. "But to kill the crew in the process?"

            Brimstone shook his head and once again patted Randall's shoulder like he was consoling a child. "Depends on the gains. All of us have killed at one time or another. It depends on how important the end result is."

            "And we all survived because of dumb luck."

            "Their ain't nothing dumb about your fearless leaders surviving that crash. He's got brains, that one, and he's dangerous." The big guy inhaled, catching the scent of dinner. "Ah.. grubs ready. Lets go eat." and he lead the somewhat dazed Doc to dinner.

            Megan once again raided the Red Dragon Inn's icebox, still half asleep but driven by cravings, she managed to navigate around the normal crowd, not caring that she was still dressed in bed attire. This time her feet were shod with Tweetybirds as she bore the latest of Brimstone's donations, a 3/4th length bright yellow t-shirt with a brighter yellow bird; definitely way too cheerful for the person wearing it. "What's up, Meg?" Goury asked as she passed him.

            "Food," she grumbled back, the obvious answer as she reached around, feeling her way through the fridge's innards, finding a plate with eggs that were slowly turning black with mold, and parking herself at the end of the counter.

            Goury turned around to see Drac ambling in. "Hi Drac!" he beamed out, more to alert Megan, trying to thwart any bad mojo she might be sporting. Of late anything seemed to set her off. Goury just assumed it was hormones.

            Megan just moaned, hearing that the Vashtalian lizard was once again in their good graces.

            "I suppose so," Drac called out from across the room, making Megan shudder to hear his voice, confirming his arrival if there was any doubt.

            The blond swordsman leaned over, giving her plate a cursory glance. "So, uhm.. feeling any better? You took a good bop to the head the other night."

            "Better," she grunted, then rolled her eyes as Marek joined them, pulling out a pipe and settling down to smoke with them.

            Goury saw the look. "This is Marek. Claw's son."

            "I know who he is," the mutant grumped back. "He's one of those lizards."

            "What's wrong with dragons?" Marek asked, a bit confused as to why Megan was so dour.

            "Nothing wrong with dragons." Megan gave a quick look towards Drac as if suspecting something, then turned her ire back towards Marek. "Just you Vashtalian guys and your gung-honess and never say die attitude."

The big man had to chuckle a bit, but he saw some of her contention. The black blade on her back was thrumming once again, and it seemed Destroyer's temperament had a strong influence over Megan's. "Man, you don't know nuthin' bout me."

            Megan almost barked. "I'm NOT a man. I'm a mutant. For once get THAT particular straight, would ya?"

            "Alright, Woman," Marek smirked.

            That comment brought the dander level up two more flakes, enough for Goury and Drac to try to intervene. "Cool you jets, Meg," Goury commanded in the most authoritative voice he could muster.

            "Besides," Drac added. "Marek's not part of the Vashtalian populous, nor is he fully dragon."

            Neither man managed to reign her in. "Bah! Youse guys and your holier than thou attitude!" and she spun out of her chair, making a beeline to the bar.

            "Holier than thou'?" Both men echoed, totally confused as to where she got such an outlandish idea. "I need a drink," Marek confessed, perplexed.

            Megan obliged him by picking up a bottle of vodka and winging it over hand and full bore at the big sailor. It was only Marek's quick reaction that saved him getting a face full of broken glass as he grabbed the bottle in mid-flight. Seeing her missile miss, she scowled and headed into the basement for something more substantial to numb her nerves.

            "I didn't mean to make her mad at me," Marek whined.

            Goury patted the big man on the shoulder. "Don't fret it. I think she's just having a bad day.

            Morgaine had seen most of the commotion and had wandered into the kitchen. Granted she wasn't quite dressed for the culinary arts, what with the tight black leather and fishnet stockings over the red laced bra, but she knew what would calm Megan down. She just wasn't sure if it was good to be serving such lethal concoctions to a pregnant mutant. Megan returned empty handed, but gawked at the combination Morgaine had at her fingers. She snagged the glass away and guzzled down the contents. She just about finished the glass too, but her stomach had called it quits. Soon her skin tone turned a lime green and she bolted into the restroom to empty. When she emerged, the front of the t-shirt had a pinkish stain, one that slowly was eating away at the material, something that Morgaine pointed out in time before things became embarrassing. While she retreated upstairs to change, Brimstone snuck in from the greenhouse entrance, clearly having sensed his kinsman leaving. He had to wrinkle up his nose at the stench left behind. "Geeze Louise, what is that/" he asked as he fanned his cowboy hat to drive the stink away."

            "Meg got sick," Goury answered, making room for the 'borg to sit down next to Meli, the tattooed woman having likewise slipped into the bar.

            "Figures," the metal man commented, then spotted Morgaine looking at him. "Evenin', Chica. Bar is still standing, I see."

            "Who knows how long that will last," she replied, her voice void of any emotion.

            Brimstone let that observation go without comment. He knew his status at the bar was questionable at best. "Depends. Anyone seen Tim around?" He nodded as everyone shook their heads. "Hm... I think he knows the jig is up and he beat feet. He would if he was smart, and we all know he is." He paused for a moment, having heard one of the elves down the bar asked for a tender, but when he finally reached them, they seemed to snub him. This added to the slowly brewing funk he was beginning to wallow in. Between Morgaine's less-than-cheerful attitude, Megan violent biological warfare, and the rudeness of the customers, all he could do was sulk. Only Meli's quiet interference kept him from exploding. Course when the soft spoke huntress was able to serve the elves their drinks and assign them rooms for the night with no problems, it did nothing to sooth his injured pride. He did manage to keep it all in stride, even managing a smile when Meli asked BS to "show them to their rooms" in an attempt to re-integrate him back into the mainstream of things. Brimstone knew that was near impossible now. Even with most of him body covered, the red lensed eye and mechanical whirring gave him away.

            He returned after his errand, depositing the given sack of gold in the till before returning to the group, shuddering a bit. "Spell casters," he grumbled. "I don't know how Tim could stand to be next to them. My teeth ache from all that friction."

            "Maybe he can tune it out." Goury suggested.

            "Well if he could, he'd have to be damn good at it. I've caught him actually weaving spells on more than one occasion."

            That fact did nothing to cheer the group up.

            Nine was sunbathing on the upper decks of the sinking bar, catching the last fall had to offer and was quite unwilling to give up the spot when she heard a crack of lightning striking close by. Only when she opened her eyes did she realize that there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Instead there was Janis, dusting herself off and looking a little lost. "Have you seen my sister?" she asked.

            "Which one is your sister?" Nine replied.

            "Her name is Meli. She looks like me. Not like you can tell with all the folds in that big black cloak of hers."

            "Oh... Brimstone's new crush. Dunno. Haven't seen either one of them around."

            Janis looked down at her, somewhat surprised. "Brimstone's 'new' crush?"

            Nine sat up, fearing her quiet afternoon would no longer be quiet. "Well I dunno if it's a Crush per se, but he has definitely shown an interest. Damn near broke Tim's jaw... not that any of us need a reason to, but that creep was picking on her something awful. im can be such a bully at times. BS just clipped him."

            "Tim can be such an ass," Randall replied as he joined to two girls outside, probably to get a bit of fresh air.

            "No, Tim is walking dead. It's just a matter of time before he pisses off the wrong person." Nine continued to look out over the rolling waves of the ocean below. "Course BS ain't that much better. I should rat him out to his girlfriend and tell her what a louse he really is."

            "Louse?" Janis asked, never having heard BS in any disparaging light.

            The mutant stood unsteadily, gaining some assistance from Randall. "I ain't totally clueless about those two, BS and Timothy that is. I can hear that metal slug puttering about at night in his workshop. You would not believe all the electronic crap he's got hooked up down there. He's also got lots of pieces of our ship there." She now turned to Randall, looking him over. "I'm sure he knows something about the crash that he ain't sharin."

            Randall knew and reluctantly told her. "He's got a copy of our experiment results on tape." He waved his hands as he saw the shock, then anger strike through her small frame. "I was going to tell you, but there was so much going on!"

            Janis stepped between them. "Before you go off on some conclusion, Nine, perhaps you should talk to Mr. Stone first. If need be, maybe you can enlist my sister into getting some 'straight' answers from him."

            Nine caught herself, taking the suggestion in stride. "You're right. I need the proof first. Randall, show me this tape!" and with that, she grabbed Randall by the front of his shirt and dragged him back inside the hideout.

            Brimstone was sitting in his empty bar. Most of the "posse" was out and about trying to scrounge up items for Nine's scavenger hunt list. At least he was able to let himself go and ponder about things without having to shut his mind off. He didn't bother to hide his worry when Meli slipped into the bar. "Are you alright? she asked as she stepped into the filtered light.

            "Sure...just tired," he tossed back his drink and deposited the glass in the sink. He turned to look her over. "You look better. No more migraines, right?"

            She frowned a bit, wondering how he knew.

Her confusion elicited a smile from the 'borg's face. "Tim's flown the coop. Off the planet even. He was giving me heartburn as well. I may not be a total psi since I can only pick up emotional vibes, but with him gone, the airwaves have been much quieter."

            "Tim is just a dumb parasite." she commented coldly.

            "Tim's a bit brighter than you give him credit for, Meli. He only irked Youse guys to goad you into action and to move before thinking. I've had training, but even I couldn't keep things clouded long enough." He rubbed the side of his nose with a metallic finger. "He picked through my mind and figured out what I knew, then skedaddled before I could do anything about it. He's probably scurried back to Del Mar and whoever he's ratting for this time. I just haven't figured out Why. Why did he sabotage Nine's ship?"

            "Ulterior motives," Meli stated.

            "Of course that, but for who's benefit? Humans? Dragons? I would guess Mutants, except for who it was initiated against." The big machine-man was rubbing his brow where the metal joined the flesh. Apparently he'd been thinking in circles like this for hours. "Maybe he was trying to stop Rooslan's plans by killing the source before she evolved far enough."

            "But who says the plan existed before the accident ever occurred?" Meli replied.

            Brimstone stopped massaging the tic developing on his temple. "That's linear thinking, Mel. You should know better than that, especially knowing that Tim can travel by teleport. He could have known beforehand by being in the future." He poured himself another drink and tossed it back, this time not bothering to water it down. "Either way it's out in the open now. Randall knows, and surely Nine will figure it out, especially now that Tim's bailed. The end result is that we've lost our most powerful psi, leaving us exposed to Rooslan." he sighed again, knowing that no amount of drink would fix that problem. "It probably wouldn't be so bad if we would just work a bit closer together and quit trying to kill each other. If I could just get those girls to settle down I'd bet they'd make quite the team.

jewel xv

            "Did something happen between you two BS?"

            Goury had asked the question of the 'borg when they bumped into him in the middle of the marketplace. Both parties, Goury and Marek with Megan in tow, and Brimstone on his own; were trying to find Meli. Apparently the tattooed psi-hunter had gone missing and nobody knew where she could be. Their attempt to find her was waylaid when Megan walked past a restaurant where a carousel of goodies spun in a display case. In she went, Brimstone after her, the rest of the tribe following reluctantly. To assuage her hunger, BS ordered most everything on the menu, making the tiny waitress very happy as she rushed back to the prep area. Marek took his leave of the group a moment to step outside, then returned clearly showing his casting luck had run dry as well.

            So the foursome commenced with eating.. Well the threesome. Marek continued to sulk in his fashion. He finally attempted another spell, one that made Brimstone's skin ache as it rolled over his hide. Megan just about came unglued, and it took the cyborg a good effort to shove her back down in the seat. Thwarted from a good thumping, Megan sulked, taking refuge in a second helping of ice cream, even as a young woman seated next to her watched with famished eyes. Megan never missed a stride. Using her free hand, she picked up the platter filled with sweets and passed it over to the hungry lady. She only hesitated a moment before plunging in, almost match Megan in fervor. The thankful girl paused in mid-bite. "Why are you giving me this?" she asked suspiciously.

            Megan rolled her eyes as if the question was too dumb to be believed. "Because you are hungry," she replied, "Besides, it's on his dime. The thumbed a finger at her metallic uncle then dug back into her dish. The girl pondered this only a few seconds before taking the reply at face value and likewise attacked the meal, splattering Goury with food from both sides.

            While the men postulated Tim's motives and the girls stuffed their maws, a cloaked figure showed up at the doorway. Brimstone looked up hopefully, but then realized that it was Janis, not the missing psi-hunter. She casually walked up to the table, casually removed Brimstone's Stetson hat and placed a hand on his brow, all which he allowed freely enough though with a questionable look. "The channel seems fine," she mumbled.

            The 'borg could guess what was up. Janis came from a family strong with telepaths. They knew that he had the ability, just not necessarily in the same class as them. "Maybe I'm on the wrong station?" he suggested.

            She replied by beaning him on the temple with her free hand, then placing her fingers once again on his brow. Not finding what she was feeling for, she grabbed the metallic man by the ear. "C'mon," she commanded.

            "Yes, Ma'am," he replied respectfully, redonning his head cover and allowing himself to be dragged out into the streets. He trusted Janis more than his own kindred, which wasn't saying much, but was probably duly noted somewhere along the line. She stood him out in the middle of the square, the positioned him, turning him slightly, pulling one arm forward a bit, then stepped back to admire her handiwork.

            Brimstone's kind always seemed to have an affinity to sense each other. It was never developed into a precise talent, except for the occasional misfit like Timothy, but BS had incurred alpha-wavelength discussion before. Still it amazed him when Meli's voice drifted in from the back of his head. ~Why are you looking for me?~ she asked.

            "Worried," he spoke out loud, not caring that a few of the market dwellers stared at him. He was having a tenacious time holding onto this particular wavelength and anything physical helped him ground his thoughts. "You seemed to need to talk about something buy you never really coughed it up, Hon."

            ~You didn't give me a chance. You're always busy.~

            "I know Hun, but nobody else is picking up the slack here. We're a bit headless, in case you haven't noticed."

            ~I've noticed.~

            She also sounded perturbed and he tried to be very gentle in his thoughts and words. "Just what did you need, Hun?"

            ~If you must ask, then there is no need. I take it from your lack of though you don't know, do you?~

            "No need?" Now the 'borg's dander was up. He couldn't move, so grew doubly frustrated. "Look, I haven't the skill to go prancing around the feelings of non-mutated folk, so I'm Asking you. What Is the Matter?"

            There was a mental sigh. ~Are you so blind to the world, and to me?~

            Brimstone had suspected it before. This had confirmed it. "It's true then. You've set your sights on me." He sounded as if he still didn't believe it.

            "Not anymore," Meli replied.

            "Oh."

            They may have said it, but neither one believed that either.

            Megan, Goury, and their new associate Jewel leaned back in their respective chairs, patting stomach and groaning with full bellies. Goury turned to the new girl. "So what brings you to our part of the world?"

            Jewel smiled. "Looking for life. The food didn't hurt though."

            The mutant girl quickly looked away wondering if Jewel could guess what Goury still didn't know. Jewel clarified her point. "You know, people who walk around a breath and who are hopefully intelligent." She smoothed down her long black hair, twisting it a bit in her fingers.

            "Well there is plenty of life to this town," Goury commented.

            Megan suddenly found herself in a coughing fit. Unable to stop, she stumbled to her feet and headed to the little girl's room. "Excuse me," she managed to sputter out in passing.

            Jewel watched Megan bolt for the bathroom. "Gee, I hope the food's okay."

            Nine sat at the empty Pirate Tavern, helping herself to another helping of goop fished out of their larder. This was better goop since nothing had been refrigerated. She had gone for the plainer clothing; a tan shift and worn set of brown boots finished with a plain leather belt was all her ensemble, Despite all the medieval garb, she looked out of place. Her only weapon of course was Defender. She felt she was abandoning him if she attempted to don even a short dagger for close combat.

Her meal was interrupted by the door creaking. She whipped around and saw a young woman slipping into the tavern. She had long black hair and a very pale complection indicating something along a vampiric race. She work a tight white tank top as was the fashion of the day, but chose brown breeches to indicate the piratic innovation. She was armed quite nicely with a dagger off each hip, a katana tied down with a sash, and a musket loader braced to her side.

Nine didn't object to any of this, but what the girl did next upset her greatly. Seeing that Nine was tearing into some overly moldy meat, the girl muttered a small spell, refreshing the food. The spell also knocked Nine clean off her chair, Defender just sliding out of the way to avoid being squished against the floor by his mistress. "What the Hell!?" the irate mutant spat as she jumped to her feet, trying to shake the heebie-jeebies off her hide from where the spell had ran over her skin.

            "Uhm... bad idea?" the woman ventured, totally surprised by the violent reaction to her little spell.

            The petite mutant dusted herself off, then grumbled as her marred silver blade jumped off the floor under it's own volition and slammed roughly against her spine. "Get back there!" she yelled at the weapon as she tried elbow it back into place, then turned her attention to the woman. "For one, I was quite happy with that beef. Nothing wrong with a little mold. Two, do you have ANY idea how bad magic does around me? Bad. Real bad. Blowing up hunks of real estate bad."

            The young woman had to smile at the scene, this ruffled girl looked more like a wet fighting chicken with her brown hair all askew as she twisted, trying to keep the Obviously enchanted blade in check while she vented. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about the magic... or the beef."

            Nine sighed then retook her seat. "It's okay. How would you have known. I should have been more on the ball anyhow." She looked to the refreshed meat then pushed it away and wiped her hands on her skirt. "Anyhow, I'm Nine. I assume you're one of the new recruits Sonya was talking about."

            The girl nodded as she reached over the counter and picked out one of the better bottle of rums. "My name's Gemini Rose." She opened the bottle with her teeth and threw the cork into the fire.

            "Well if Your one of the crew, we gotta get going to the ship. Meeting's starting soon."

            Nine headed down the dock, pausing again in front of the massive ship called the Dark Dream. Why did she get a sense of foreboding every time she walk near the vessel? Even in it's less than ship shape state, it gave her the case of the willies. Rose didn't seem to sense anything as she skipped up the gangplank. Nine inhaled then ran up the pliable planks, hoping not to slip or fall, especially in front of the crew. She needed have worried. Not only had she managed to reach the deck in some manner of grace, it appeared that she and Rose were the only two attending this mandatory meeting.

            Rose seemed quite at home as she scurried through the rigging to check the crow's next before sliding down a guide wire back to the deck. Nine felt a pang, seeing how care free the woman was on the open see, but was quickly distracted when Sonya joined the up on deck. "Very well," she grumbled "I guess it will just be us ladies. First, Fallon's lashes have been postponed until the next meting. Crow Hawkins is back on as crew, but he is no longer the first mate. That is Jack's position."

            "I know Crow," Nine replied. "But I don't know Jack."

            Sonya smiled a bit, taking away some of Nine's nervousness. "Jack is a Very nice man, Nine. He just sticks to himself. Now the new activity this month is a recruitment drive. We have precious few hands left, and most of those are lazy and unreliable. We cannot even make way on a voyage, we are so short handed. So whoever gets the most applications turned in will be the winner. Also, Rose, have you started training yet?"

            "No, Ma'am."

            "Then I suggest we get started."

            As Sonya started on the basics with Rose, Nine slowly slipped off the boat. She had undergone no training since her induction into the crew and she still had that hanging fear that once they realized her weakened state, they would throw her off the ship.