The Spatial Shard

“How did she boost a car that fast?!” Fulmar screamed as he pressed the accelerator even harder into the floor. They had done the impossible: achieved what a field team had failed to do. They had Imogene Amanda Schultz in custody and were en route to rendezvous with some Alpha Team cover. They were very hot, in field team lingo, being pursued by a seventeen year-old girl with a major affinity for all things military!

“I think that’s one of ours,” Quinlan answered from the back seat as she looked back. “Jesus! The kid followed us all the way back to the houses and then took an Alpha Team ride?!” she asked as she looked at the other members of the clean-up team. “Which means we can stop shooting,” she continued in disgust. “… we’re not packing anything strong enough for that armor.”

“It also means we’re not going to be losing her anytime soon,” Blaylock added, seated right next to Quinlan; their unconscious guest lay in the boot of the station wagon.

“She looks like she’s setting up a pistol,” Quinlan reported.

“One mile to our exit,” Parquette spotted, riding shotgun, as he could do little else in the car. Fulmar was doing his best behind the wheel, but the simple fact of the matter was clear. A person was only assigned to a clean-up team when they could not hack it on one of the field teams. A seventeen year-old girl was in an SUV, handling it with one hand and doing a better job than Fulmar was, using both hands and driving a mid-size station wagon. “At this speed, we’re looking at roughly forty-five seconds.”

“She’s going to be ready to shoot in three!” Quinlan shouted.

“She won’t shoot,” Fulmar stated in full confidence. “We’ve got her friend in the car.”

“She’s drifting to the right... to get a better shot!” Quinlan yelled while ducking. Three shots were fired from a semi-automatic pistol, taking out the door mirror, front and back windows on the passenger side; in that order. The conscious occupants of the car ducked and called for divine intervention while branding Sharon with a few colorful expletives. Fulmar struggled, but eventually he regained control of the car.

“Hold on, Genie,” Sharon thought as she drifted back to the left to get behind the car she was pursuing.

“Not going to shoot, you said,” Quinlan growled. “She almost took my head off! That, in case any of you missed it, was called drift-shooting. It’s done so that you can fire from a moving car with less of a chance of shooting your own vehicle. There are Beta Team members who can’t do it that well!”

“Thirty seconds to exit,” Parquette called out. He was not sure if he should still be spotting, as it might give Fulmar the wrong impression. He wanted the chase to stop and he felt no shame in being beaten by someone with a better skill set. If the young woman played her cards right, maybe she would be an Alpha Team Lead someday.

“Or are you going to tell us now that since she only made two hits out of the three shots that she was lucky?” Quinlan pressed.

“Not when it was three out of three,” Fulmar thought. “I can’t see out of a mirror that no longer exists!

“We’re going for the rendezvous!” Fulmar announced. “We’ve got field team support there. If we stop, there’s no guarantee that she’ll let us live!”

As much as Quinlan wanted to argue, she knew there was no point to make. She sighed before she looked back. “Here she comes again!” Three more shots were fired, hitting the driver-side door, the driver-side front fender and the door mirror.

Fulmar swerved again and started fish-tailing. Before he could get a hold of the skidding, another shot was fired which blew out the passenger-side rear tire. But this shot was not fired from Sharon’s pistol. The car went off the road and into a ditch nearly half a mile from the overpass and their intended exit.

Sharon took the SUV off the road, but did not want to chance getting stuck in the ditch. She reloaded the pistol and picked up an SMG, checking its clip of ammunition. The Mac .10 was not her favorite sub-machine gun, but it beat having nothing, especially since she was outnumbered.

“Boronovich,” Fulmar barked into his radio as he and the others got out of the car with their pistols drawn. “... this is Clean Team Bravo Two. We still have the subject, but we have been immobilized. We are roughly two miles from the rendezvous site. Please respond!”

“Da,” Boronovich responded calmly across the airway, reloading his sniper rifle and adjusting his scope. “There has been a change in plans. I am en route to you. I am currently three minutes from your location. Can you hold?”

“Sure you are,” Sharon thought as she moved to the floor of the SUV and got out on the passenger side of the car. “Even if I hadn’t heard that gunshot, missing that flash-fire coming from the overpass would have been pretty hard to do.

“I suppose it finally dawned on them as a possibility that someone who took one of their vehicles might just be carrying one of their radios,” Sharon thought as she steadied and readied herself. “Okay, Sharon, you may be in the know, but he still has the scope and the range advantage. Think, girl!”

“We can hold out for a few minutes,” Fulmar answered. “Just drop us a line when you get here.”

“Drop?” Sharon whispered as her hand took hold of her PEP. “Works for me! Come on, Boronovich, let’s see how jumpy you are.” Sharon moved to the rear of the vehicle and stuck her head out, saying ‘he sees me’ before stepping back behind cover. A rifle shot missed her by a second and a half. Sharon then rolled out from behind the SUV and stopped in a one foot/one knee pose and fired two beams from her PEP, set on cutting laser. She fired for the overpass, and the beams were ten feet apart from each other when they struck the edge of the road. They both made curved paths, forming a circle, until they met about twelve feet from the edge. Sharon rolled again and she heard another gunshot. As she came out of her roll, she could see the section of the bridge falling free from the rest of the road. There was a man standing on that section, looking for ground that was not moving. He failed in his search and he screamed on his four-story drop toward the ground. As he dropped his rifle and flailed his arms, Sharon fired a force beam and grabbed his body, yanking him into the side of the SUV. She took away enough of his falling momentum to keep the impact from being fatal. He fell to the ground unconscious and Sharon turned to walk toward the station wagon holding her best friend. She created a force field around her body and walked causally.

“That was the last friendly move I make,” Sharon said, as darts and bullets bounced off her defense screen. Sharon did not know who these guys were, but their shots were all over the place!

“Except for Miss Thang over there,” Sharon thought. “She’s tagged center mass three times already. Rannis, I love you!”

“If you give me the girl now, everyone walks correctly a little while longer.”

“The force field makes her bullet-proof,” Fulmar yelled as he holstered his weapon. “Let’s rush her. She’s not a killer and she can’t take us all!” Fulmar was out from behind cover and charging along with his other team members; though Sharon could see the woman of the group did not look convinced what they were doing was a sound course of action. When the ‘bum-rush’ party was four feet from her, Sharon converted her force field to emit a force pulse which hit them like a moving wall. All four were floored and in serious pain.

“Good plan,” Sharon said as she walked by them. “Good thing for all of you I’ve got places to be and my girl to get.

“Don’t do it,” Sharon warned without stopping or looking back. Boronovich found that he was unable to throw his knife. He knew her force field was down and she was just a young girl with a couple of hi-tech weapons… or was she? Young or not, she moved like a real professional, which made her possession of the weapons more significant because there was a good chance she did not need to use them. “I told you, I’m fresh out of non-fatal answers.” Sharon Thaxton did not say another word as she picked up Imogene and carried her to the SUV.

Boronovich opened the back door for her once he saw that the boot section was filled with four unconscious bodies; three of them were human. Using a force line, Sharon laid Imogene down gently and closed the door. She stepped back and then hopped back. The step took her outside the large Russian man’s hook; the hop did the same for his spin kick. Boronovich did not press, but set himself and gave the young girl time to do the same.

“Thanks for letting me get my girl in the car,” Sharon said as she circled right.

“Either way, you saved one of us time and effort after we finish this.”

“One way of looking at it,” Sharon said as she let her guard drop.

“Here is another,” Boronovich said as he leaned forward and threw his best jab, given his condition. He blinked as his punch was smacked aside and a back punch found his nose. Both actions were done with the same hand. The ‘girl’ was nothing of the sort. That was a drill instructor’s move and he had seen it many times before. He had one advantage and now he knew it was the only clear one he would have in this fight. He knew he was stronger than the young woman so he needed to get in close and grapple with her.

On his first attempt, he lunged forward with both hands. Sharon moved across his body, throwing her right arm over in a swim move and spinning. The back of her elbow found his throat and he stumbled three steps, choking and gasping for air, before his face slammed into the pavement.

“You were warned,” Sharon said, firing the cutting laser once more. The man was dying, but the cut would keep him from feeling any pain. As she lowered her arm, she looked at the others who were recovering for the force pulse. The only female of the group was quick to hold up her hands and signal they were not going to give Sharon any further trouble.

“Might want to maintain radio silence until you feel safe talking,” Sharon said as she climbed up into the vehicle. Quinlan nodded as the SUV rolled by them.

Sharon drove the car as fast as she could until she could no longer see the overpass. She then slowed and took the very next exit off the freeway. She smiled when she heard Imogene moaning.

Wilma stood in the middle of the aisle, closed her eyes and stretched. She smiled at the irony of the moment and the man who kept this salvage yard. Here she stood amongst discarded Tech, items she considered twice dead. But it had all been cleaned before it had been stacked, purged of more than just dirt or wear and tear. There was nothing in the way of vibrations coming off anything here. It was as quiet as stone, and in being so clean, it tried to take on the vibrations of the living entity which was closest. That was Rannis and he was something of a puzzle.

“I can actually find peace in this yard of heaped, pressed and stacked dead Tech,” she thought. “It is more like a garden of stone and steel,” Wilma smiled as she breathed in. The sweet aroma came from flowers the caretaker of this garden had hidden amongst the Tech. She could feel the breeze and hear the song of the birds; even the artificial sunlight from Zweit Pointe seemed to be more refreshing. As she breathed out, she lunged. She cleared ten meters and landed on her toes, spun and jumped straight up, clearing another five meters. She landed in a split before rolling back over her shoulder. She pressed herself up in a handstand and spun in three circles. She then flipped to land on her feet where she breathed in again.

“I am given to know that on both sides of the Nexus, it is impolite to stare,” she said, opening her eyes and spinning to face a very quiet young man who had breached her first and second perimeters with his approach.

“I’m sorry,” Gordon said, looking deflated. As his face sank, so did Wilma’s heart, but she found a very quick resolution.

“As you should be,” Wilma said sternly. “It’d be a different thing altogether if you were to approach your friend and perhaps ask a question or two.”

“But I didn’t want to interrupt,” Gordon explained. “I thought that would be the rude thing to do.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Wilma remembered. “On your side of the Nexus, those who move as I do demand the strictest courtesy, don’t they, dear?” Gordon nodded and Wilma held out her hand. “Then let’s you and I come to a different understanding.” Gordon ran to her and took her hand. “When you have a question for me, bring it to me. That is the only way I can answer it.”

“Okay,” Gordon said with a smile. “Then will you teach me?”

“I would be honored,” Wilma answered. “But I will need permission from my teacher first.”

“Since when does a Ton-Ji need permission?” Rannis asked as he walked by on his way to his workshop.

“I am not a Ton-Ji,” Wilma replied. “But I am a Ji-Ton High Scholar.”

“And to think,” Rannis said with a smirk and a wink of his eye. “… you said that with an air of pride, hmmm?”

“Does anyone like him for too long?” Wilma asked Gordon.

“I know my Dad didn’t.”

Wilma squinted her eyes and looked around just as Rannis stopped walking.

“Rannis?” Wilma started.

“No,” he answered quickly, “… I am not expecting any guests, and I suspect Genie will announce herself as she did upon her last arrival.”

“Then I doubt it is Genie,” Wilma said softly as she reached out for Gordon. “Where is Wayne?”

“I’m right here,” Wayne said from the door of the warehouse.

“Stay there!” Rannis and Wilma barked.

“Are you armed, dear lady?” Rannis asked as he stepped toward a larger clearing.

“No,” Wilma answered, moving to join Rannis as she ushered Gordon to join Wayne.

“Armonyean Sword to guest,” Rannis said as he held out his hand and a bright green flash delivered a well-forged sword to Wilma’s left hand. “Form-Powder Staff to me,” Rannis requested and his staff formed in his hand, already looking more metal than when he had been on the roof of the building dealing with the Inforcers. “Flux Pulse the field,” he said softly, taking a defensive stance. There was a soft click which came from the building Rannis used as an office.

Green electricity arced in all directions, passing harmlessly over Wilma, Rannis, Gordon and Wayne. The other ten people, who were suddenly visible, were not as fortunate. They were not Inforcers, as those were the peacekeepers of Undertown. No, these eight men and two women were the Personal Guard of the House Pel’Tierre. They were probably in training; the better of them would become Vanguards, the not-so-good compliment would be delivered to the Inforcers and the failures would either be discarded or augmented even more than they were at the moment.

“Now that was impressive to witness,” a female voice called out as she and her five-man entourage also became visible. They had not been affected by the pulse because they floated above the ground. Three of the five men were Vanguards; and if Inforcers were considered to be regular troops, a Vanguard was indeed the most special of Special Forces. Most Vanguards could be found in the company of the Negatroix, but it was a poor assumption that all Vanguards were from the same sect of Five Pointes. While neither of the three wore any extra special markings (outside of the Pel’Tierre Family Crest), it was not entirely unheard of for an Armonyean to learn to wield Tech and join their illustrious ranks. These three looked the part of the most common variety; men and women who had simply come to wield Tech at a much higher proficiency than the combatant norm.

The other two wore gray cloaks with their hoods up and over their heads, covering their faces. The robes bore the mark of the Etnavas, but neither of them wore any jewelry on the outside of their cloaks. They were probably Initiate Order, but that did not mean they could be ignored.

The woman’s hair was red with black colored tips on her bangs. She wore it short, save at the back of her head where it ran in a long, thick ponytail between her shoulder blades. The gems she wore on her cheek and forehead were of the finest make and displayed how much in love the Earl Pel’Tierre was with his new bride. She wore a gown that clung tightly to her torso, but ran loose around her long and lean legs. It did not take much in the way of wind or movement for the slit to display the tone of musculature in her legs or the complexion of her alabaster skin.

“A Flux Pulse Field,” she commented. “How quaint! Make way with the irritation.”

“Luatha, discontinue the pulse, please,” Rannis said, keeping his eyes on the two figures in robes. He was slightly distracted by the fact that his System took her time powering down the Flux Pulse. When the power finally stopped, the ten people dropped. Rannis was surprised to see three of them still conscious. The first young man to stand glared at Rannis who did not remove his eyes from the two that concerned him most. They remained behind the Vanguards, but they had yet to divulge if such a positioning was due to their rank and inability, or a respectable capacity for deployment strategy.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Wilma spoke softly to Rannis.

“I have little reason to be polite to uninvited guests,” Rannis replied.

“Now see, there we have a problem,” the woman said as she settled to the ground. “I was told that you explicitly advised one of my men that if I had any business with you, that I should come to see you directly. Was that not one of my options?”

“Indeed it was,” Rannis said, relaxing his body and placing the end of the staff on the ground. He looked away from the two robed figures. While still problematic, he did not foresee any deft maneuvers coming from either of the two. They, like many of the others, were here for show and leverage. “And you are?”

“She is the Countess Pel’Tierre, dog!” the closest Vanguard spat as if it soiled him to be standing so close to one of Rannis’ station. “And she will be asking the questions!”

Rannis looked at the Vanguard and his eyes squinted tight. Wilma quickly put her hand on Rannis’ shoulder and gave it a slight massage.

“I know the ground upon which you stand, my friend,” Wilma said to Rannis. “And I find no fault with your logic or your perspective. But cooler heads discuss things while heated minds fly too quickly into rage.”

“Oh my gracious,” the Countess said, putting her hand to her chest, feigning surprise. “Can this truly be a relic from the Null Quarter?”

Wilma quickly sent her probes and confirmed her instincts. The woman was indeed the author of the orders to the Inforcers who had attacked Rannis, and had been about to level the same threat against Wayne and Gordon. She wanted all of the travelers from the Earth-side of the Nexus, and the only one she wanted delivered in the picture of health was Imogene.

“Am I in the presence of greatness?” the Countess continued.

“You are,” Wilma answered as she looked down. Her smile quickly faded and the grip on her weapon tightened. “… though I doubt I would have the same answer to that question.”

“Should I rub your shoulder now, my friend?” Rannis asked with a smile and Wilma laughed; her grip eased and a bright smile formed on her face.

“You just did,” she sighed. “I told you I was not a Ton-Ji.”

“You’re going to wish you were!” the Vanguard standing the furthest away from the Countess growled as he drew his blaster. He leveled his weapon with incredible speed and fired, assured of his accuracy. Well on its mark, Rannis deflected the blast with his staff, which flashed upon impact. The sent burst was split into four bolts, each as potent as the one received. Three shot directly into the bodies of the personal guard that had recovered from the Flux Pulse. The fourth struck the Countess herself. She staggered back a step; her personal force field had absorbed the bolt, but it was clear the Vanguard’s weapon packed more of a wallop than what was commonly available.

“Definitely Initiate Order Vanguards,” Rannis thought, quickly stepping away from Wilma who was flipping away from him as the Vanguard fired again, missing both potential targets. Despite his conclusions, Rannis could not shake the feeling he needed to keep an eye on the two robed figures. The other Vanguards threw themselves into the skirmish, as the one with his gun drawn moved toward Wilma. He was joined by another Vanguard as the last one faced Rannis and dropped to his knee, punching the ground. He sent a wave of electricity along the ground toward the salvage yard owner, but Rannis stepped toward the oncoming wave, thrusting his staff into the ground. The wave hit the end of his staff and seemed to flow into the weapon. Rannis brought his staff up with the collected energy, swinging it over his head as he moved toward his opponent. The very ends of the staff trailed sparks of electricity as it spun around his body. The Vanguard was not impressed, quickly drew his Combat Baton and decided to charge.

“You fool!” Countess Pel’Tierre shouted just before her Vanguard’s attack was dodged. Rannis then swung his staff, striking the chest as his foot swept against the heel. The Vanguard landed flat on his back as Rannis continued the motion of his weapon and thrust straight down for the chest. The energy the staff had collected was returned into the Vanguard’s suit and weapons.

“Now this should be most interesting,” Rannis thought as a monitor on his PEP started flashing.

The Vanguard continued firing and while his initial shot would have probably struck true, had it not been for the old junk man, the warrior was now finding the white-haired woman to be a very elusive target as she spun and flipped her way into the salvage yard. Newly added to the rank of Vanguard, he pressed his attack, hoping to substantiate his position. Head shots missed, as did efforts to hit center mass. She was simply too fast for him to actually get a bead on. The closest he came after his first shot was just over a meter away from the woman’s body.

“An Armonyean!” he called out as he removed the spent battery clip. He turned down the alley he had seen the woman jump into. “Only they can move like that.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Wilma argued, as she came flying out of the alley.

One foot kicked his weapon out of his hand while the other stamped into his chest and sent the Vanguard flying back into the stacked wall of various metals. His back met against the very hard wall at the same time Wilma landed from delivering the attack. As he bounced off the wall, looking as if he was going to fall to the ground, Wilma dove forward. She planted both fists in the man’s chest and he was launched, for a second time, into the wall. He was unconscious before he reached the wall, and fell straight to the ground. As soon as Wilma landed, she leaned to her left and a blaster shot missed her head. She then flipped to her right and avoided three more shots. Wilma landed in a low crouch and jumped up and over the top of the wall.

“You’re not facing a new recruit now, woman,” the man said as he focused on his body. He jumped up and his arc was going to take him over the wall. A small female hand reached out of a discarded hover car chassis and grabbed the man’s foot, giving his entire body a twist. The man lost his form and all control of his body, landing hard on his back. Wilma landed softly beside him.

“Seems I am not facing anything right now,” Wilma argued as she walked back to where she last saw the Countess.

“Father, protect me!” she gasped as she was surrounded by a field of energy. Energy that shattered her perceptions and lifted her from her feet. Her mind was reeling and it seemed that the world was spinning.

“Focus, woman!” Wilma thought as she noticed that the walls of the yard were not moving and neither was the ground. Thank the Masters Rannis had a passion for growing things. Not one leaf on any plant moved, not a single blade of grass. It was all a matter of perception!

Wilma was caught in the effect of a device which somehow delivered the symptoms of vertigo to its victims. She tried to find the source of the effect, but her range at the moment did not exceed half a meter, and even that was questionable. She could see Rannis, and he too was stunned by the device. One of the robed men standing near the Countess had his hand extended, and it seemed that Wilma’s reality was spinning around his fingertips. It was a spinning that was slowly draining her of all strength.

But as the robed man approached Rannis and demanded he yield, Wilma could hear the salvage yard owner laughing maniacally. “Sure hope you like heights,” Rannis said before closing his eyes and touching a control panel on the top of his PEP unit.

“Luatha, secure friendlies only!” Rannis ordered as a soft popping noise echoed through the aisles of the yard. A soft breeze swept across Wilma’s face but she knew it was not a breeze born of the atmosphere.

“Ungh!” Wilma grunted. An explosion nearly knocked the woman deaf. Before she knew it, more than her mind was spinning, as an incredible gush of air sent her body into the sky. While she could keep her balance of where the ground was, she could balance little else against the incredible force of the blast. A force line wrapped around Wilma’s waist and retarded her flight away from the yard. A force field platform formed under her feet and slowly lowered her to the ground. There was a very loud impact sound followed by the wrenching and squeaks of metal being pushed and pulled to its limits. Suddenly, not too far from Rannis who was on his hands and knees and laughing, there was a ground car that was clearly from the Earth-side of the Nexus.

“Rannis?!” Sharon yelled as she got out of the SUV. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Rannis coughed as he fired a force line at one of the unconscious Vanguards and relieved him of his pistol. He moved the gun over to Sharon. “Two robes and a gown… plug ‘em til’ they yield.”

Sharon did not ask questions upon receiving the weapon. It spun around her finger as she stood; she now had the weight and balance of the weapon. She turned and found her assigned targets. They were a little dizzy, as they had not been connected to Genie or anchored to the ground. Walls of stacked junk can be rather forbidding and especially punishing if struck by a flying body. Sharon walked away from the SUV, but not closer to her targets. She was close enough to them for her tastes, but a few steps away from the vehicle gave her a better shot angle and made her feel better about the people in the SUV in the case of return fire.

“Yield!” she yelled, firing the first volley, nailing two chest shots on two of her three targets and a head shot on one of the robed men. Each of them had force fields, but their bodies still reacted to the impact of the blaster fire. “Yield,” she said again, firing three more shots. All three targets were unable to get to their feet with the hits she was scoring. “Hey, Rannis, is the power level switch on the side of this thing?” she asked, hitting with three more shots. She stopped walking as she had a very good angle and was relatively close to cover should the need arise.

“Yield!” Countess Pel’Tierre screamed as she threw up both her hands. She was getting warning signals on her force field controls. She had plenty of power, but the received blaster fire had been too tightly grouped. While her back was fine, the chest region was not being given enough time to repair field integrity. “We yield!”

“Roll over on your face, Princess,” Sharon commanded. She fired again when the woman did not move fast enough. “This is no time to get an attitude,” Sharon warned. “You can roll over under your power or mine!” The woman groaned and screamed in rage as she rolled over. Sharon fired twice more, hitting each of the robed men. “Didn’t want you two feeling left out,” she said and the robed men also rolled over on their chests. “Now everybody just keep your faces down and your bodies real still.”

“Sharon,” Wilma called to the girl as she tossed another Vanguard blaster. Sharon caught the weapon and quickly discarded the one she had been firing.

“Thanks, Wilma,” she said as she quickly took aim. “I was wondering how many shots that thing had.”

“Well, you’ve got a brand new battery clip in that one, so it’s a good twenty shots,” Wilma explained.

“Twenty rounds?!” Sharon exclaimed. “And only three butt-heads? Oh, please, somebody misbehave for me!”

“Who are you talking to?” Imogene said as she opened the back door of the SUV.

“Take it easy, Genie,” Sharon warned. “You got us back, but it seems Rannis was having a little bit of a pest control problem. A little Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner action.”

Kasavra Pel’Tierre looked up and her brown eyes locked on the slender girl just getting out of the ground vehicle. Her unassisted vision would have been able to see the young girl was special, but her visor recorded the power signature coming off of her body. She strained her eyes, cueing the visor to change viewing modes, but the Countess Pel’Tierre did not get any conclusive information, as her eyes were forced to close. She screamed as she rolled, grabbing the shoulder that had just been shot. One of the robed men glared up at Sharon and she shot him too.

“Someone tell you idiots to move?” Sharon asked. “If so, you might wanna put that voice on speaker so we can all hear it. I might feel obliged to warn you before I shoot again.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Imogene asked Sharon as she slowly walked over to Rannis. He was standing, but he did not look well. “What did they do to you?”

“Not as much as they wanted,” Rannis answered. “A most timely return, hmmm? Allow me to introduce you to the Countess Pel’Tierre. She and her son, Zanison, are contacts for Samantha Vey.”

“Can’t seem to get away from that name,” Imogene said softly as she rubbed the place on her arm where the tranquilizer dart had struck. Sharon snorted her agreement. “I didn’t know she had touches on both sides.” Imogene looked down… she looked tired, frustrated, defeated.

“So you’re turning this into a real junk yard now?” Sharon asked. Rannis smiled and looked down without answering. “Well, we’ve got three new people and a pooch who are in need of some TLC. Is there anyone we can call to pick this stuff up?”

“No need, hmmm?” Rannis chuckled. “They let themselves in, I am sure they can let themselves out. We will allow the passage of the personal guard, Vanguards, and her ladyship as soon as I am done stripping them of their Tech, hmmm? Of course, this may take some time.”

It was clear the Countess wanted to say something, but her shoulder was burning, which meant her force field was low; the blaster the dark young woman was aiming was too close to full, and her ability with the weapon was already quite proven. She would not argue Rannis’ demands. There was no protocol to substantiate her actions. But that was commonplace. What was uncommon for the Countess Pel’Tierre was the fact that her power-play had been found wanting. She could already hear her husband’s ranting on how she had embarrassed his name and the House Pel’Tierre.

“We will cooperate, Etim,” she said. “On that you have my word.”

“Argh!” the Countess screamed, grabbing her shoulder which now had a slight burn on the surface of the skin. Rannis looked up at Sharon with surprised yet curious eyes and lifted his hands silently asking for an explanation.

“She moved,” Sharon advised. “No one asked for her permission. They’re getting stripped, pure and simple!”

“I do so wish she had been at the school earlier,” Wilma whispered as she moved to help those who, like Imogene, were not quite themselves… if they were conscious at all.