It's funny how life is never quite predicable. It is unlikely that anyone would imagine they would be enjoying ice cream with friends one moment and find themselves staring down the jaws of certain death the next moment. Well, perhaps anyone save Envoy; it happened and here she is.

The huge chunks of concrete hurl at her and her friends in what feels like slow motion. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a blur of silver and white fur as Icarus literally jumps from his chair and lands on all fours on the small bistro table. He sits back and his arms spread and surge outward. A wave of faint blue flows out from him causing light that passes through it to warp and shimmer, distorting the world around them.

Everything around them goes silent and still all at once. The flying debris simply stops mid-air. One chunk now floats a few inches from Envoy's nose. Poor Thorndike is in much the same position, with the minor difference being he's half-falling back in his chair, eyes wide in shock. Violette, the poor girl, has gone into hiding under their table.

"Damn," Envoy thinks, and turns her head to scan the rooftops for the driver's accomplice, who she expects to be observing. "It was probably all done to get Icarus to expose his ability," she thinks. "Let the debris drop, Icarus," she says. "I want to check on the driver."

Unfortunately everything around her is distorted due to the localized manipulation Icarus is currently doing so she can't make out much. The hybrid is shaking, though if from fatigue, fear, or anger is hard to say. With the way his hands glow, Envoy can make out practically every bone in them. A moment later, though, his fingers curl and the glow fades. As the tension in his body subsides, so does the warp around them. All the flying debris simply crashes straight down. And of course poor Thorndike continues his path backwards and lands on his back. "Ow," he complains.

Envoy breaths a slight sigh of relief, since the distortion should have masked who was creating the bubble. Once the view clears, she heads for Icarus while looking around for the man who was talking to the driver before.

Icarus wobbles where he stands, then collapses over the table limply. "Sorry," he whispers, his voice weak. As Envoy looks around as she approaches him, she spots movement in an alleyway across the street from the cafe. It's too dark in there to make out what caused the movement, though; it just looked like shifting shadows.

"Don't be sorry," Envoy says as she gets to the table and tries to help Icarus back into his chair. "Walter, could you check on the condition of the automobile driver?" she asks her human companion.

Walter rolls over and pushes himself up to his feet. "Certainly," he says and goes around the crumbling makeshift wall Envoy created earlier. There's a moment of silence, then he asks out of view, "I know it is unlikely that a lady would have seen such before … but have you ever seen what happens if you hit a melon with a sledgehammer?"

Icarus falls back into his chair with Envoy's help and winces. "Everyone is okay, right?" he asks.

"Well, we are alright," Envoy tells Icarus. "The driver of the runaway vehicle is not, apparently." She checks the boy's forehead for clamminess or fever, and spares a bit of attention for the bystanders as well. "Violette, are you unharmed?" she also asks.

"I think so?" the poor bat calls out from under the table. "Nothing seems to be hurting or missing.

The group have earned a lot of staring bystanders now. Most are standing with their mouths hanging open. A few are whispering back and forth to each other and pointing.

Icarus' temperature feels, well, normal for what Envoy remembers his body temperature feeling like. Warmer than a regular human but not burning.

"They must have city guards or police here," Envoy mutters, watching for some sort of official response. "Are you hungry again, Icarus?" she asks after removing her hand from his head.

"No, just feeling a little tingly," Icarus admits and shakes his hands as if to try and shake the sensation off.

Envoy does happen to hear sirens in the distance and they do sound as if they're approaching.

"In my experience, it is often best to avoid any confrontations with the local authorities," Thorndike comments as he returns from around the cement wall. "They tend to dislike tourists causing a hubbub."

"It's not like they won't know I'm involved," Envoy says, gesturing to the upturned street. "Although I suppose I could try to fix that… "

"Can you ever go anywhere without causing a scene, m'lady?" Thorndike actually asks Envoy.

"It is hardly my fault that someone tried to run us down," Envoy remarks, as she turns to face the distorted road. She starts singing, hoping there's still some activity left in the original spell so she doesn't have to recast it completely.

It seems like there is just enough magic resonating in the concrete that Envoy should be able to reshape it once more, provided she doesn't try to do anything fancy.

"You may also like to know the driver had a bunch of stuff in his head. Bunch of wires and little plastic-looking things with lots of metal legs. It all came out when his head, ah, exploded upon impact with the steering wheel," Thorndike remarks absently.

Envoy focuses on restoring the road to its original condition… at least, the parts that weren't blown out of range. But a few potholes are easier to deal with by local workers…

"Ew!" squeaks Violette from under the table. Icarus' ears perk at the description and his short muzzle skews up a bit.

The Aeolun can't really react to that information yet, at least not until she's finished working on the road. But it does, at least, give her an idea of who was spying on them.

A collective 'Oooooo!' comes from the surrounding crowd as the pavement seemly melts back down into regular street. Well, save a few potholes due to missing material.

One thing that seems to be playing in Envoy's favor right now is that whatever Icarus did, the ambient magical field of the immediate area is a lot stronger at the moment.

Another Interface event, Envoy thinks. She finishes with the road, and heads over to the remains of the car to see what Thorndike has found.

The remains look disturbingly like the results of something going through a meat grinder. There isn't a lot left of the man's head and neck, save a bloody mass of meat, bone, and gray 'goo'. Sticking out of the mess here and there are small wires and rectangular plastic wafers with lots of metal pins around their edges.

Having no handy tools, Envoy says, "Do you think the ice cream shoppe would lend us a scoop?" She reaches in regardless and tries to tug out one of the wafers.

"I rather doubt it," Thorndike calls back. One of the wafers comes free with a disturbingly squelchy noise. There is a lot of gray flesh still clinging to it.

"It… looks like a micro-processor," Envoy suggests, turning the device around to get a good look at it. "I don't know if it is advanced or a relic though. I'm not that familiar with cybernetics like this. But… we're sure this man was actually alive, right?"

"How would any of us know?" Thorndike calls back. "We never met him."

It sure does look like a plastic-clad socket microprocessor of some kind. There looks to be some writing under the goo, but it's hard to make out right now.

Envoy takes a handkerchief from her pocket and wraps the device in it. "I don't think we can get away with performing an autopsy in the street to find out," she says. "All these wires, though… hmmm. Do you think there is a radio device in there?"

"It's possible. The slightly negative charge of the human body does act as a functional antenna," Thorndike says. "I used to boost the range of my radio back in my lab during days of poor reception by just grabbing its antenna."

The sirens are growing a lot louder now. Definitely heading this way.

"Let's step away," Envoy advises, and walks back to the table. "I'm sure the police will want to talk to us. Well, to me. Do you think it would be best for you to take Icarus and Violette somewhere else?"

"It may avoid some unpleasant questions," Thorndike reluctantly admits. "I can take them shopping just up the street. Will you come find us once you're done?"

Envoy nods. "Be careful, Walter," she urges. "There is still the other man unaccounted for, and I think… " She pauses, not wanting to say anything more that Violette could overhear. "I think that I still need to pay for the cake."

"A cake is the least of our concerns," Thorndike notes a bit grimly. He helps Icarus to his feet and nudges the bat our from under the table. "Come on, let's go find some new clothes for both of you. It will help you forget about what just happened," he says. Both of the younger mammals look worried and can't help but look back to Envoy … but they end up heading down the street with Thorndike all the same.

Envoy sits at the table and thinks about what she couldn't say to Thorndike: that she expects the entire event was set up to see if Icarus was actually Experiment 13. The cyborg brain of the driver certainly hints strongly at further implant-at-birth humanoid experiments.

The wail of the sirens approach, followed by the screech of rubber tires as a vehicle comes to a stop near the wreckage. Two humans dressed in what looks like some sort of police-like garb exit. As one of them starts putting up 'caution' tape, the other approaches Envoy and her table. "So, what is all this, then?" the human asks, "Were you present when this accident occurred? What exactly did the driver hit? It looks like he ran into a brick wall … but there is no wall."

"Yes, I saw the whole thing," Envoy says. "He was driving out of control, and came right at this table… and then the road rose up and stopped him."

"The road rose up, did it?" the human asks as he pulls out a notepad and starts writing. "How much have you had to drink today, Miss … ?"

"Envoy," Envoy answers. "Envoy of Lothrhyn, Earth Mage. I made the road rise up, if that is important? I'm sure plenty of other people saw it. I'm afraid the driver was spying on me earlier as well, and… well, if you take a look at his head you may notice some unusual elements."

"A mage, is it?" the cop asks and continues writing. "You do understand that you should not be practicing such … things in our city. It upsets the public. It isn't against the law yet, but it should be. Now, how do you know he was spying on you?" The other cop finishes up with the tape and goes to check the remains in the wreckage.

"I saw him doing so, right over there," Envoy says, pointing to where the man had been standing. "If I hadn't cast the spell, I would have been struck by the vehicle. And then I wouldn't be able to answer your questions."

"I suppose acting in self defense is reasonable," the cop seems to reluctantly agree and keeps on writing. "Do you have any idea why this man would be spying on you and furthermore, desire to kill you?"

"Well… I'm an alien, so perhaps he had a dislike of such beings as myself," Envoy suggests. "Or he was hired by someone or some group which wishes to keep us out of New Zion. I do not think it was the usual sort of assassination attempt that I've dealt with in the past."

There's a marked pause in the cop's writing. "You have had attempts on your life before?" the cop asks, "Then it is my duty to take you downtown and fill out a complete report on all such events so that we have a record of the troublemakers in our city," the cop says. "Murray, open the back of my car, will you? One to transport to the precinct."

"Oh, most of the attempts were not on this world," Envoy points out. "And certainly not in New Zion!"

"That is beside the point. We must catalog the information should any occur here. It will help with future investigations," the cop says as he taps his pencil on the top of his notepad. "You can come voluntary, or you can be arrested. Your choice."

Envoy sighs, and says, "I need to inform my companions. They've gone on ahead. A friend and two children, whom I'd rather not expose to such… uh… " She gestures to the burst head of the driver.

"Give Murray a description and he will inform them," the cop says, "Now please stand and come with me to my patrol car."

After giving Murray the needed description, Envoy follows the officer. "Will this take long?" she asks.

"Oh, no more than a couple hours. Each report must be done in triplicate," the cop says and holds the back door of his patrol car open for the Aeolun. "Please have a seat."

"Hours?" Envoy asks, with a bit of exasperation. "It would go much quicker if I could fill out the forms myself."

"Procedure does not allow that. Please sit down," the cop says impatiently.

Envoy sits down, frowning slightly. She sees why Thorndike wanted to avoid this… but without going through 'proper channels' she won't have a chance of learning about the driver.

The cop closes the door and goes to the driver's door. He opens it and sits down. "Murray will tell your friends where to find you," he says back through the cage of metal that separates the rear of the vehicle from the front. The cop then turns a key and the engine roars to life. Within a minute, they're heading down the road.

"Oh," Envoy says through the cage, "be mindful of other vehicles trying to run into us."

"I think that is the least of your worries right now, Miss Lothrhyn," the cop remarks oddly. He turns around a bit while driving to look at her. The human's eyes look oddly cold; about as cold as the steel barrel of the muzzle of the gun he just brought up and aimed through one of the holes in the cage. The last thing Envoy remember seeing is the bright flash from the barrel and the painful ringing in her ears from the thunderous discharge. She vaguely remembers feeling something slamming into the left side of her forehead with a sickening crunch and the world around her fades to black.

---

Envoy has no idea how much time has passed. Her world is a mess of disjoint colors and noise. Now and then she could swear she hears the voice of Morpheus calling out to her but it always fades and leaves her alone. Reality may finally be returning, though, as she starts hearing the sound of hissing steam escaping from joints in pipes. Not only that, she becomes acutely aware of pain seeping through her body. It feels like every limb and even her chest may have been cut into sometime recently. And then there is the light that finally seeps through her eyelids just before they open. She finds herself sitting in a metal chair. Her arms and legs are secured down with thick metal bands. Her hands have been encased in what looks and feels like cold iron. In fact, it feels like her horn and much of her head save her eyes and mouth have also been encased in iron. A single bright light shines down on her, illuminating a ten foot circle. Beyond that is darkness from which the occasional hiss of steam or clang comes.

"Deja Vu," Envoy mutters, flashing back her to interrogation by Inquisitor Ciar a few years back. She tests her range of movement, at least to try and feel if they've left her any of her clothing or tiara.

Envoy finds herself completely nude. They didn't even leave her the tiara. Her range of movement is … practically nonexistent. "Artificial genderless life form," a voice rasps ahead in the darkness, "No evident DNA present and tissue samples decay upon removal from the primary source. Evidence of crystalline control structures similar to those used by the Sifras, isolated primarily to the cranial region. Also evidence of repeated significant cranial trauma. Regeneration rate is impressive. Vivisection incisions began regenerating immediately. Determination, life-form is effectively immortal. State your origin and creator."

"I would like to know where I am and who is holding me first, before answering any questions," Envoy replies.

"You are hardly in the position to ask any questions," the raspy voice snaps. "The answers to your questions are irrelevant anyway."

"Well, I don't have much incentive to answer your questions then," Envoy points out. She also tries to feel out the area for usable magic, since that could give her some hint of depth or altitude at least.

The field of magic here is extremely weak and given the iron restraints upon her, Envoy would likely find it extremely difficult to work a spell quickly, if at all. "Oh of course you do," the voice rasps, "Being that you are immortal, I can inflict pain on you effectively forever. Given your trespasses, you deserve it anyway."

"Trespasses," Envoy repeats. "So… am I speaking to Dr. Von Bronson, or a reasonable facsimile thereof?" she asks.

"Ah, effective mental faculties, even with the extensive neural trauma," the voice rasps. A whirr of an electric motor fills the space as something rolls forward into the light. Or rather, someone. A shriveled, ancient-looking human rolls forward in a mechanized chair. His skin hangs loosely on a thin frame. Tattered white hair hangs down in loose patches from his scalp, and cold calculating eyes peer out at her from deep eye sockets. Various wires and tubes snake around his shriveled form where then end up disappearing into his decaying body that is loosely covered in what looks like medical scrubs and a lab coat. "I am Doctor Von Bronson," he rasps, "And you have been plundering my research."

"I have my own reasons for waking up the Leviathan," Envoy notes. "Your other research is hardly important. And I had expected to see you in a younger, cloned body you had simply transferred your mind to. I gather from your condition that you are afraid of dying, however, and felt that such a procedure would not carry over your… vital essence?"

"Death will hold no sway over me," the human claims before breaking into a brief fit of coughing. "And as for your claims about my other research not being important, you lie. You have been grafting Sifras elements into yourself. I took the time to dissect your forearms and recognize the work as my own. The flow-inlay in your horn also did not escape my notice. Not to mention the reports from my agents on a localized gravitational disruption that you generated at the cafe. Tell me, how did you manage that without adverse decay of your organic systems?"

He doesn't know about Icarus, Envoy realizes, but keeps her response neutral. "I fear you are mistaken, Doctor," she says. "Whatever attempts at 'grafting' you may have done would be the imitations. I am a Sifras artifact. The integration of crystal elements is normal for me."

"I do not believe you," Von Bronson states flatly and rolls closer. "Your tissues do not match any of the samples I recovered from the old ship beneath my former home."

"That is an old model, from the time before Ascension," Envoy notes. "I was able to commandeer its drone and the ship itself. Once I return the power core to it, it will be fully functional again. Did you expect there to be no advancement for a billion years?"

"Ah, yes, the core. A useful, if dead end experiment," Von Bronson says as he waves a shriveled hand. "And returning the core alone will not restore the ship, there is the matter of its gravity manipulators too. I used many of those in various experiments, as you are no doubt aware of."

"I've spoken with Number Twelve, if that is what you mean," Envoy says. "And the ship can regenerate minor components such as you stole. It generally would not be wise to steal from the Tribunal," Envoy notes. "Especially as the purge of lesser forms is approaching. But you did manage to use what you took, which is something few have managed over the millennia. It could be enough to make you considered… useful."

A raspy, coughing, laugh, comes from Doctor Von Bronson. "Dear creature, are you trying to scare me? A valiant, if futile, attempt." The human waves his hand again and continues, "It is a pity Doctor Daedalus had an attack of conscious and went and killed herself and Experiment Thirteen. She was almost as intelligent as I, after all. But … at least I managed to salvage some of her research and make use of it."

"Surely you don't mean those primitive cyborg agents you sent against me?" Envoy asks. "And I hardly think anything I've said is meant to frighten you. I'm simply trying to determine if you might be worth adding to the Tribunal's resources."

"Those? Those were mere throw-aways. No, I completed her research in as much as the line of inquiry would allow," Doctor Von Bronson notes. The human taps a control panel attached to his motorized chair and says, "Fourteen, attend to your Master."

Envoy actually perks an eyebrow at this, wondering what new source of crystals Von Bronson was able to cannibalize for further experiments.

The hiss of a hydraulic-powered door echoes in the room, followed by the thumping of heavy footsteps as someone else approaches. What enters the light looks like a nightmare of genetic engineering. Elements of Silent-One, Nagai, Khatta, Eeee and human come into view: its skin looks thick and scaly in most places, a head that bears hallmarks of Khatta and silent-one origins, with Eeee-like ears and humanoid hands. Cables and tubes snake all over its body, going in and out of its flesh. A slow flow of blood seems to be coursing through the tubing along with other liquids that seem to be dispensed by various devices secured to parts of its body. At its hands, elbows, and knees, crystalline protrusions jut through the flesh and glow dimly with rotating color. Fourteen looks down at Envoy with dull, cold, eyes.

"Impressive, if not subtle," Envoy comments as she looks up at the monster. "Cybernetic control of the mind, yes? No need for behavioral conditioning and messy emotional responses then. And it has an interface crystal in its brain I imagine?"

"As I said, you have been plundering my research," Doctor Von Bronson remarks, "Otherwise you would not know of the details of the work. And yes, you surmise correctly, his brain has been modified to remove the irritations of emotion and thought. He does what I tell him without question."

"How very convenient!" Envoy says, and starts singing. She knows the interface crystal is 'open', so tries to link up and access it.

Maybe Envoy assumed incorrectly, because the moment she tries to access the interface crystal embedded in Fourteen, it feels like her head is on fire. Chaos and pain burns through her brain as if she just stuck her entire head into the core of a forbidden zone!

What did he use for the source of that crystal? Envoy thinks through the storm in her head. She stops and tries to clear her thoughts for a second attempt focused on the embedded crystals. If she can trigger a burst or magnify the Lesser Interface then she might be able to use that to escape.

Von Bronson is laughing darkly. "You are entertaining, if nothing else. A small mind struggling in a futile gesture against someone with a far superior intellect," the human claims. "I suppose it must stem from the vestigial reptilian aspects of your body."

"Not reptilian," Envoy hisses through the pain. "Draconian… "

"Such fantasy. No such creatures exist," Von Bronson laughs.

Envoy somehow manages to get a lock on the protruding crystals of Fourteen's right hand. They somehow feel … crude. Like an approximation of the complex structures she removed from the remains of Twelve. There is a low-grade charge built up. Enough for a minor gravitational burst, but the range and power output it can generate is questionable.

With her mind half scrambled, Envoy doesn't have a good grip on her emotions, and that laugh just… angers her. A small, short burst of gravity could be useful if it can trigger whatever controls the chair restraints, she realizes. She doesn't know where they might be, but surmises the logical place would be behind the chair. She sings out, trying to get Fourteen to release the burst at the rear of the chair.

Envoy hears it before she feels the metal of her chair begin to warp and twist from the localized field tearing into it. Von Bronson's eyes narrow as his laughter abruptly stops as the sound of metal fatigue reaches him. "Fourteen, tear her apart at the atomic level," he hisses as an order as his mechanized chair engages in a very quick retreat backwards into the darkness.

I bet he's got glass in his life support system, Envoy thinks, a bit cruelly, as she uses both voices to really scream. At least her hearing will repair itself afterwards.

Fourteen takes a step back and snarls darkly. Spacetime around his hands begins to twist and swirl with intensity as a new and far more powerful charge begins to form deep within them. What happens next is … pain. It feels like Fourteen just pulled half of her ribs out as she goes hurdling backwards and skidding across the floor in a wet mess. She can already feel the sides of her chest rapidly beginning to repair themselves … and she realizes she's completely free of the chair restraints. As for if her voice did any damage to Von Bronson … she cannot tell. Blood is oozing out from Fourteen's ears, though, from what she can make out from where she lays prone on the floor. If he feels any pain from it though, it's hard to tell. Light is already beginning to warp around his hands again…

"Fourteen!" Envoy cries out in Von Bronson's voice while she still can. "Cancel order! Stand down!"

Alas, it appears Fourteen may not be able to hear anymore after Envoy's vocal assault. All around her she can hear steel beams begin to warp and twist as the creature pulls several extremely heavy supports down to float around him as if they were extra 'arms'. At least her sides no longer burn with pain; more a dull ache that is already fading away. None too soon at that, as one of the multi-ton beams suddenly hurl away from Fourteen and right at her!

Envoy brings her arms up and tries to roll away from the beam, singing out to the monster's arm crystals again. "Reverse Energy Flow!" she tries to command them.

The beam slams into the floor where Envoy just was. It was so close that she could actually feel it ruffle the feathers of her wings as it went by. Getting a lock on the crystals in his arms, though, turns out to be a far, far, greater challenge. They scream with chaos, it's near impossible to tell which way the energy is actually flowing.

Chaos, Envoy thinks. How do you counter something like that? She tries to get to her feet and form a strategy. Magic won't work under these conditions – not with that chaotic interface going. At least, not without her crystals to help her. She takes stock: she's hurt, but intact, and has… the crystal embedded within her, if she can figure out how to use it. She knows how to replicate the gravity shield, if she can get her forearms to respond to her. "Synchronize," she tries singing to them as she moves towards Fourteen.

The color of Envoy's forearms begin to cycle, then seem to lock into a glowing gold. Gentle warmth seems to radiate deep into her arms from where the crystal invades her flesh. Something just synchronized and although she doesn't hear it, she feels like it just asked for a command. The second beam whirling around Fourteen suddenly launches towards her!

Envoy brings her arms up reflexively, and issues a command: "Shield!" Behind it, in her mind, is the multi-dimensional formula for what she wants, based on what she's felt from Icarus.

The beam slams into a field that explodes to life in front of her. The beam, designed to hold up tons of weight deforms as if it were nothing but paper in the air before her. It now floats there, between herself and the monstrous form of Fourteen. Fourteen's expression is cold, lips drawn back in a snarl. His arms shove forward and the beam twists even more. Envoy can feel the force the creature is exerting against her shield; it's immense.

Not knowing how much energy she has available, Envoy ducks to one side and tries to push the beam away in the opposite direction, rather than face it head on. What can I attack him with? I can't just throw things. But… I can try something else, she thinks, as she searches through her deep memory for the formula for a gravitational lens.

Her experience with Icarus enables her to direct the beam away and it goes slamming itself into the floor on her left. Her memory spins as she tries to find the right formula and just as she thinks she has it, the wall somewhere behind her explodes and light fills the room! The whir and whine of hydraulic pistons fill the room as something large and heavy walks towards her from behind. She hears the scream of a capacitor as it discharges and something metal goes screaming by her at supersonic speeds. Fourteen's fields shift barely in time to deflect the heavy projectile away from himself.

Cavalry or a new foe, Envoy has to deal with Fourteen first. She sings out and reforms the shield into a lens, and into this she roars as loud and low as she can, hoping the lens can amplify and accelerate the pulse enough to stun the monster.

Amplified it is and the roar that comes might impress even the greatest of dragons. The force alone pushes Fourteen back two-dozen feet and also knocks away his control of the remaining beam he held ready. The Aeolun now has a bit more time.

"Abominations shall not be suffered," intones a metallic voice as the armored form of Born-In-War walks past Envoy as he marches towards the recovering creature in the distance. A massive rail-like gun is mounted on his shoulder armor and the crackle and whine of its discharge-capacitor can already be heard as it builds up for the next shot…

"Born… " Envoy starts to say, and then hurries to move her gravity lens in front of the rail-gun barrel to give the shot some extra kick.

The ground beneath the Silent-One's feet cracks and shudders as anchor-bolts set their position to absorb the recoil from the massive rail canon on its shoulder. The stench of ozone then fills the air as the energy pulse in the canon releases throughout the coils in the rails, charging them up to massive potential in the fraction of a second. The armored suit rocks backwards slightly as the metallic projectile rockets from the barrel at supersonic speed towards Fourteen, boosted to twice its normal potential due to the gravity lens that Envoy repositioned. Fourteen snarls and Envoy can make out a shield rippling into effect in front of the creature just as the projectile hits, and hits hard. The mutated creation goes rocketing backwards in a blur, followed quickly by the sound of a brick wall being shattered in the distance. Everything then grows quiet, save for the whine of electricity coursing through the powered suit.

Being more mobile at the moment, Envoy ventures forward to see if Fourteen is down for the count or not. Holding her hands out, she tries to 'feel' for any build up of a gravity field.

There is definitely a field still being generated ahead. The feeling is chaotic, far less controlled than Icarus' own raw potential. "Be wary," the armored feline behind her mechanically says, "Nothing is ever so easy."

"He's still active," Envoy says, and thinks. The room around them is made of metal, so a quick Reshape won't work. Nor is there time for a more complicated ritual like Fossilize. What she really needs is… a directed electromagnetic pulse to short out the cybernetic systems! "Born-In-War, can you fire your rail gun without a projectile loaded?" she whispers to the armored feline.

The armored helmet of the suit tilts a bit. "Yes, I will need to disconnect the magazine. I fail to see the value in that plan of action, however," Born-In-War states. The feline does go about pulling the weapon's magazine from its side anyway. "You are also fortunate your friends came to me seeking assistance. It is not common to locate someone once they have been missing over a week," he remarks.

"That long?" Envoy asks, and then explains, "Our foe is protected by a gravitational field that will deflect… to a degree… physical attacks. But he has a lot of electronic components which may not be shielded, and since his field only distorts electromagnetic radiation it may be possible to attack him with a pulse that will overload his electronics. Does that seem like an effective plan to you?"

"Possibly. It would have a better chance of success if his field were directed elsewhere while I fired," the Silent-One remarks. "And yes, that long. I had to lock up your … child, to keep him from coming along. He was insistent."

Envoy feels a sudden surge in the distance. The feeling is quickly followed by the groan of metal being ripped free from its mountings. The ceiling far above begins to creak ominously as well.

Oh dear, he'll be furious, Envoy thinks, and then has to put her own shield back up. Maybe I can cancel his out… if it would just settle down, she thinks. "We may have to retreat, but I'm going to try and distract him," she says, and splits her shield into a right and left one, and tries to rotate them out of phase with one another to set up a variety of interference patterns in the hope that one of them will weaken or divert Fourteen's shield for a moment. "Oh… if you see any blue, glassy-looking ribs try not to step on them please."

"Are they important?" the Silent-One asks as he takes a few steps back and looks worriedly up at the ceiling. It also turns out to be a good thing Envoy put her shield back up, because just then a steel beam slams square into it, sending her sliding back a few feet.

"It would save me a lot of trouble if I can recover them," Envoy grunts, and tries to push back. The closer she can get her shield to Fourteen's, the more they should interfere, so Envoy has to close the distance. And just in case Fourteen is still focused solely on her, she tries moving to the side as well.

Fourteen's output is chaotic, but very, very, strong. Envoy finds it extremely hard to make any headway towards him … but it turns out that's okay because Fourteen is heading right towards her. His mutated face is contorted, lips drawn back and eyes narrowed.

Gritting her teeth, Envoy tries screaming at the monster again and hopes the he's close enough (and focused on her enough) for Born-In-War's spark-burst to have an effect.

It's hard to close the gap, but step by step she manages to close the distance. Fourteen looks even worse up close; a terrible mish-mash of genetics, crystals and cybernetics. It seems like there isn't much flesh that hasn't been cut into at some point in the creature's life. It's also up close that she notices something. The creature wasn't snarling in anger; it was crying. Tear-streaks trace down its face in dark dirt-trails. It's also just then that she hears Born-In-War's translator say, "Now!" There's a flash of light and ozone once more permeates the air. Envoy's own fur feels like it wants to jump off her body when the pulse hits them both. Sparks explode from the wiring that snakes in and out of the creature's body, he smell of burning flesh becomes strong. Its field changes once more, becoming undirected and even more chaotic as the creature reaches up and grabs onto its head just before falling to its knees and screaming.

Unsure of why she's doing it, Envoy grabs for Fourteen's hands. "Listen, you… you aren't being controlled anymore!" she yells, since she has no idea if the creature can hear her or not. And then she starts singing to the crystals – not trying to connect with them this time, just trying to calm them down, insomuch as a lullaby can do so.

Two mismatched eyes look back at Envoy, perhaps a bit tired, perhaps a bit confused, when Envoy takes a hold of his hands. "Run," the creature whispers, choking; its voice tinged with pain, "Containment failure, runaway reaction. Cannot hold it in check for long. Run."

So much for recovering my ribs, Envoy thinks, and turns towards Born-In-War and the hole in the wall that he made. "We have to leave now! How fast can you move in that armor?" she yells.

"I am sorry," Fourteen says as Envoy leaves him behind. The Silent-One's translator states, "Fast enough with the jump systems activated." Small rockets in the legs fire as the suit turns and propels each of the suit's steps far further than walking normally would. The air behind them grows heavy, the beams far above begin to scream as metal reaches its shear point.

"Run run run!" Envoy calls, and races for the hole, hoping there will be room on the other side to use her wings.

And run the Silent-One does, each leg movement pushing him ten feet at least as he surges back through the hole in the wall. The area beyond is a wide and tall corridor and as Envoy enter sit, she spots a small cage in the wall with two very loudly complaining insect-like creatures within. They're practically hopping up and down.

"Babies!" Envoy calls, and tries to get the cage open as fast as she can.

The cage pops open and the critters crawl all over Envoy. Of course the reunion would be more charming were it not for the gravity well she left behind collapsing in on itself and taking the entire building with it.

"I hope my other stuff is safe," Envoy mutters as she runs after the Silent-One and gets her own gravity shield ready. She really should have asked where this building was when she had the chance as well, but…

Envoy finds she can use her wings and good thing, too, as she can hear the building collapse behind her as the gravity well pulls in and twists everything as it collapses. The next five minutes are close and terrifying for feline and golem alike, but up ahead is a light; the exit from the building. They literally explode out of the passage and both go rolling in the hash red dust of the planet as the former factory building they were in continues to collapse in on itself until all that remains is a giant spherical ball of steel and concrete sitting in a crater. A few hundred feet away is some sort of Silent-One transport ship, probably only big enough for a few people, and maybe two of the suits that Born-In-War wears.

"You attract trouble as the rumors say," Born-In-War's translator remarks in electronic deadpan as the armored feline sits up.

"Rumors?" Envoy asks, still looking a bit stunned. "I… wait, was there another vehicle here when you arrived?" she asks, looking around. "Von Bronson had to have something to escape in… "

"I did not see one," the feline says as his motivators whirr and the suit rises up. "It is possible the escape route is underground."

Moving to the edge of the pit, Envoy looks over while rubbing her side were she's missing some ribs. It made flying feel really weird.

"Are you significantly injured? I can ask that a medic treat you when we return to the consulate," Born-In-War asks from where he stops mid-way towards his ship. And somehow through all the insanity, stuck in the edge of the crater, Envoy sees a bluish glint. Maybe her ribs were actually blown clean out of the building.

"Oh… the blood? It's… I'm not hurt anymore," Envoy says, and tries to reach out with a finger of gravity to retrieve the rib. Icarus made it look so easy…

Looking easy and being easy are two different things. But at least since what she is trying to collect was part of her, it seems to 'come along' without too much fuss. Up close the odd 'bones' show clean breaks where they were snapped off and pulled out.

With a sigh, Envoy turns the bits of blue crystal in her hands. "I should be able to salvage these, if I can find a good surgeon," she notes. "Silicon-carbide takes days to regenerate, and I'll have to eat sand and charcoal… " She finally looks up at Born-In-War, and asks, "So, I've been gone for a week? How did you manage to find me?"

"Yes, that is a curiosity. Your child said he 'felt' that you were in this direction after doing something that the Eeee claimed was 'meditating'. I do not know quite how he knew just by sitting quietly, but his feeling was accurate," Born-In-War states. "I must admit I find 'Icarus' most interesting. I would like to have our scientists examine him more closely."

Envoy frowns at that. "I apparently spent part of the time I was held captive being vivisected," she notes. "Forgive me if I am not very keen on letting my son be examined right now." She closes her eyes and thinks: it's possible that she was moved to this location only recently, which could mean the crystals she had with her are kept somewhere else. Still, she'll need to check for them here. "I don't suppose you have any clothes in your vehicle that I can borrow? Blood and sand are not the best at preserving modesty," she asks, hoping Born-In-War hasn't already seen enough to really question how Icarus could be her son.

"It is not as if you have any external sexual traits to feel modest about," Born-In-War remarks, "Which I assume comes from partial reptilian heritage. But no matter, some clothing was brought. I am afraid your other clothes were found mangled, along with a small pack of curious crystal devices. The general authorities believed you to be the victim of some sort of sexual predator gang, hence why they left your material possessions behind, but." The armored cat shrugs a bit at that and waves for her to follow, "Come, we should be going."

Envoy gets up, relieved to hear that her belongings were recovered. She looks over the crushed building and sniffles, dust having gotten up her nose. Sorry I couldn't save you, Fourteen, but at least you weren't a slave at the end, she thinks. And now I have to watch for the doctor to return again. She finally goes to follow Born-In-War, commenting, "You really know how to flatter a girl, Born-In-War. Thank you for the rescue though."

"I am already mated, my interest in other women is minimal at best, much less in a strange species such as yourself," Born-In-War remarks rather matter-of-factly. He allows Envoy to board the spartan shuttle before following up the ramp, clanking all the way. Once aboard, he gestures at a crystalline panel and a series of pneumatic arms come out from the wall and begin systematically removing the powered armor. Born-In-War is soon standing completely naked, save for a stylized mask over his face, inside the bay. "Make yourself comfortable," he signs now as he walks towards the cockpit.

Envoy looks around for a seat, and rubs a bit at her arms.

Well, there is a seat up in the cockpit near the mostly-naked Silent-One. Otherwise it looks like sitting on the floor or a bit of discarded armor is the only other option.

Deciding to take the seat, despite her stickiness, Envoy enters the cockpit. At least this way she can get an idea of the location of this place.

"You do not like my kind," Born-In-War signs with his free hand as the other taps away on a crystal control panel and the vehicle fires to life. Engines roar and the ship lifts off the surface in a cloud of red dust.

"I don't know your kind yet," Envoy says, a bit softer than usual. "I know the Silent-Ones of Sinai; the Savanites."

Born-In-War looks over at Envoy with sharp, almost cold-feeling, eyes. "We are many things," he signs vaguely, then seems to change the subject. "What was that monster we fought? I have not seen its kind before. It appeared to be as if all species were combined into one."

"Have you heard of a renegade scientist named Dr. Von Bronson?" Envoy asks. "The man you built the Leviathan?"

"In passing, yes. A crazy human, accomplished little of note in his lifetime other than creating curiosities and stealing from other cultures," Born-In-War signs.

"He also kidnapped me and created that composite creature," Envoy notes. "He was supposedly found dead 70 years ago. He is not happy about my occupying one of his former lairs, it seems. I imagine he has stolen Confederate biotechnology secrets."

"He is more dangerous than the stories of him let on, then. That creation was stronger than my battle-suit. It is good that it was slain," Born-In-War signs. The ship is now skimming along the red surface at a decent clip. On the horizon is the glow of lights, probably New Zion. It's maybe ten miles away, perhaps a bit more.

"Someone is supporting him," Envoy notes. "Unless that was just another old base that he took over? He seems to have access to Sifras technology too… to a limited degree. I would like to know where he is stealing his crystals from."

"I do not see their relevance. While interesting, Sifras crystals do little. They are far inferior in function to our technology," Born-In-War signs. "And you should know that your … Eeee friend had to return to her camp. She desired that you write or visit her, however."

"I will let her know I'm okay," Envoy says. "And you just admitted that the creature was stronger than your armor. It was using Sifran crystal. As do I. For someone who knows how to use it, it is very powerful."

"Knowing that, then logic would dictate that I should kill you," Born-In-War signs. Again he looks at Envoy with those almost-cold eyes. "As you signify an imbalance in the powers which govern this world."

"I don't think the Celestial Empire or Expedition Governments would appreciate your attempt to restore balance," Envoy notes. "And while Dr. Von Bronson is active, I am the only one really capable of opposing him right now."

"I said logic would dictate, not that I would follow it," Born-In-War signs. "I find you … intriguing, for an alien. I also recognize that you could be an asset if you sided with us."

"Sided with the Silent-Ones?" Envoy asks, looking a bit cold now herself. "Against whom?"

"Any who would seek to harm us, of course," Born-In-War signs. "I am not blind. I witnessed your actions in combat. I must assume that it is this 'magic' that has been rumored of as of late. A sizable force."

"I'm not a soldier," Envoy notes. "And mages are acutely aware of the dangers of siding with anyone during war now."

"Your words say one thing, your actions another. You used strategy and held your ground. You directed anger into a potent force," Born-In-War signs, "What are you if not a soldier?"

"A mother," Envoy claims. "I was also defending myself, if that counts for anything."

"I see," Born-In-War signs as the lights are now looming ahead. The Silent-One is truly silent for another couple minutes. "Which of my kind helped sire your child?" he signs. His expression is impassive as the question comes.

This causes the Aeolun to blink three times and drop her jaw. "What?" she asks. "Surely you don't think such a thing is even possible?"

"His pheromone scent is of my kind," Born-In-War signs. "I doubt that another species would just develop it. Hybrid unions are possible, if extremely rare."

"Well… that is complicated," Envoy says. "There is also another matter: what would such a hypothetical Silent-Ones father's standing be?"

"It would depend on his standing in our society. Well-born are often allowed certain indiscretions that are overlooked," Born-In-War signs. "Such as … relations … with other species."

"A Titan pilot, for example," Envoy notes. "A defeated one, in particular. Would he still be given a proper funeral, despite any disgraces?"

"If he ultimately died in battle, yes," Born-In-War signs. "Though any such offspring would not be officially recognized by the Master-of-Genetics."

"Do you have some way of contacting your home from this vehicle?" Envoy asks. "I would like to make a detour that could… clear up some questions, but I do not want those waiting for us to worry."

"No. Communication relays are nor present aboard this ship," the Silent-One signs. "What did you wish to show me?"

"Icarus' Silent-Ones father," Envoy says with a sigh.

"Describe him, rough timeframe, and his Titan if possible," Born-In-War signs as he continues to look straight ahead.

"He's been dead for 70 years at least," Envoy notes. "And I never met him while he was alive, nor am I capable of reproduction in any case. But Icarus is my son, because I chose to birth him into life, if that makes any sense."

Born-In-War's head bobs slightly. "That gives timeframe. Can you describe his Titan? Weapons fitting and size," he signs.

"About fifteen feet tall," Envoy says. "It has large caliber machine guns on the arms and a plasma cannon on one shoulder, but I do not know if those are original armaments or not."

Born-In-War's head nods once more and his eyes close for a moment. "Then I may know who his father was. Plasma canons are not common weapons, so that narrows the candidate list considerably, as does the timeframe. My suspicions can be confirmed if you allow me to run a genetic profile on your son," he signs.

"I didn't think your genetics were varied enough to allow such identification," Envoy notes. "And I can provide you with his remains, which I think will be much more definitive. But you seem to have an idea of the identity already."

"Familial lines are traceable if you know what to look for. There are still certain variances which occur enough to identify likely lineage," Born-In-War signs. "And yes, you are correct in that I have an idea of which family line it may have been."

"Then I must ask: what are the ramifications for my son?" Envoy asks. "If this is a noble line, as you seem to imply, will he be at risk from his own relatives?"

"No," Born-In-War signs. "Of that I can assure you." "Then we can ask him when we return," Envoy says, closing her eyes for a moment, knowing that the city is only minutes away now. "I'd prefer he not see me covered in blood though, if it can be avoided."

"That I understand. I will land quietly and allow you time to clean before our return is announced," Born-In-War signs. "I also … wish to ask your forgiveness for pressuring you on this matter. It is my duty as ambassador to look into all matters dealing with my kind." The last bit was hard to make out, as if asking for forgiveness is not something he has done often.

Envoy finally realizes something else though, and bolts upright. "Pheromones? Why is he giving off pheromones?" she asks. "Has he been exposed to girls during his stay with you?"

"Of course. My household servants have been tending to him," Born-In-War signs. "They find him interesting; a curiosity."

The alien sighs and rubs at her head… partly to feel the area she was shot. "I hope he hasn't been too confused," she mutters.

"I believe he found the bath the most confusing," Born-In-War signs. The ship is now zipping through the wide streets of the outskirts of the town, heading towards a massive building with a mix of crystalline and classical statuesque architecture. A great door in it opens before them.

"He knows how to operate a… " Envoy starts to say, and then pauses, getting an odd image of Icarus being licked clean by Silent-Ones. She really hopes they have something more traditional, though. Nobody should have to deal with blood and sand with their tongues…