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Prologues Part II
Author - Angel | Main Story | P | Rating - PG | Virtual Season 5
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Prologues, Part II
By: Angel Koerkel
Notes: Sorry about the delay, but writer’s block the size of the Great Wall of China wrapped itself around my brain and limited my thinking abilities to planning the next trip to the pool with the kiddies!
Again, much thanks to Trish for her help and inspiration (and at times, blatant dialogue!).
Fifth in the series
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Archer moved quickly around his quarters, getting ready to head down to Ramy Four. He paused during his preparations to toggle his desktop computer. “Captain’s personal log: I’ll be going to the surface soon with Commander Tucker. Hopefully, we’ll be able to discover more about the Romulan motivations and methods for destroying this planet. I’m grateful that in the weeks since the incident, Starfleet got medical ships out here to take care of the bodies. However, the planet is still extremely dangerous and is in the beginning stages of a nuclear winter. We will be forced to take a slow circuitous route down due to the high radiation levels and polluted atmosphere-wreaking havoc with the shuttlepod’s navigation and helm systems.
“On a personal note, I’m looking forward to the time alone with my Chief Engineer. Our friendship has suffered a lot over the past couple of years and I’m anxious to try to repair it.” The Captain flicked the switch once again to stop the recording and reached out to pet his beagle.
“Well, buddy, I’m off. Phlox’ll look in on you every few hours. Be good,” he finished with one last scratch as he tossed the small dog a cube of cheese. Archer grabbed his duffle bag off the bunk and headed out the door.
Half an hour later, two shuttlepods were arcing slowly away from Enterprise and drawing toward the planet.
On board Shuttlepod One, Archer sat in the pilot’s chair and controlled the descent. He activated the communications line and called out, “Archer to Enterprise.”
“T’Pol here, sir,” came the answer.
“All right, Commander. We’re heading down nice and slow. It’ll probably take us two hours to reach the surface and we’ll be out of communication within the next twenty minutes thanks to the radiation levels. Take care of my ship and we’ll signal you when we’re on our way back.”
“Understood, sir.” A slight pause filled the shuttle, but then she continued. “Be careful…both of you.”
Jon threw a sideways glance at his blushing Engineer. “We will,” he answered with a smile in his tone before disconnecting the channel.
The Captain pushed back slightly from the control panel once the course was set and turned to face his friend. “Well, Trip, what’s new?”
Dr. Ziros, the former head of the Romulan Military Sciences Department and now fugitive from his own people, looked out at the silvery-blue streaks of light passing by his recently acquired starcraft. His self-loathing was surpassed only by his fear; fear of his government, fear for the fate of his family had they remained on Romulus.
“Are you sure there wasn’t another way?” the soft voice of his wife, L’Treya asked from over his shoulder. He turned to face her and felt his heart melt at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. Ziros gently took her into his arms and stroked her long, silky, black hair.
“I’m sure, love. If we’d remained home Murol would’ve taken you and Kiras into custody to ensure my ‘cooperation’. I couldn’t let that happen. The two of you are more important to me than anything, even my loyalty to the Praetor.” He leaned down and kissed L’Treya softly as new tears fell silently from both of them.
The hatch from the living area of the craft opened and a tall, lanky young man approached the couple. “So that’s it then, Father? You betray our people, dishonor yourself and our family name, steal me away from the only home I’ve ever known, all because you were scared?”
Ziros pulled back from his wife to face his son. “One day you will understand, Kiras. When you have a family…”
Kiras interrupted before his father could finish, “I will never have a family!” he shouted. “Do you not see what you have done? If we live, anywhere we finally settle there will be no Romulan female for me to take as consort. If we don’t live, well that will bring a quick end to our line. Either way, my future is sealed, as is yours. We will spend what is left of our lives running from our own people and die alone.”
“You do not know that,” Ziros said with little conviction. “We are already out of Romulan space. Soon, we will find safety.” Even as the words left his mouth, sensors began beeping signaling an object in their path. Ziros turned away to check his command board.
“What is it?” L’Treya asked.
“Another ship. We’re still several hours away from them, but I believe I can establish communications.” Ziros toggled several switches and fine-tuned the frequency knobs as he considered what to say to the potential friend.
Trip dragged a hand through his hair, exasperation evident in the rough lines of his face. Archer noticed for the first time how much his friend had aged over the recent years. It wasn’t just chronological age showing itself in the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his mouth, there was a maturity visible behind the blue eyes that used to be so easy-going.
“What do you want me to say, Cap’n?” Tucker asked slowly.
“How about the truth?” That earned him a doubt-filled glare followed quickly by acceptance.
“Are you sure?”
Now wondering if this was the best idea, Archer considered backing out. In the end though, he missed his friend and wanted to know what was going on in his life. “Yeah, Trip, I’m sure. We’ll call it Captain-Senior Officer Privilege. Anything you say here, stays here. Fair enough?”
Trip let out a heavy sigh, immensely relieved that his oldest friend was available to him at last. He had wanted desperately to talk to him lately, but had worried about the position it would put Jon in. A broad smile crept over Trip’s face and he visibly relaxed into the chair. “All right, then. In a nutshell, it goes like this: me and T’Pol got this Vulcan mating bond…”
Archer listened as Tucker outlined the past for him, at times scarcely believing what he was hearing. When the story drew to a close, his ears perked up at the final statement his engineer offered.
“The long of the short of it is that I love her, Jon. I can’t imagine ever being happy without her. In fact, I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” Trip had looked down at his hands, clasped between his knees.
“What! Trip, you know what that’ll mean for your careers? Starfleet isn’t likely to let you continue to be stationed on the same ship. You’ll be grounded!” Archer himself could think of no worse fate than being told he wouldn’t be able to fly anymore.
Tucker met his friend’s worried countenance and laughed. “Yeah, I know what it means, but I’m willing to accept that decision.”
“What about T’Pol? Will she be so quick to leave space?”
“Well, now that I’m not so sure of, but I’m tired of sitting on my hands, pretending I don’t care about her.” Seeing Archer’s questioning look, he went on, “She loves me too, Cap’n. She doesn’t have to say the words; I can feel it in the bond.”
Archer shook his head in disbelief, but smiled just the same. “All right then; let me be the first to say, congratulations.” He slapped his friend soundly on the back.
Smiling warmly, Trip answered, “I haven’t asked her yet, sir.”
Ensign Sato looked bored. She sat at her station fulfilling her duties, which at the current time were limited to listening to static. The shuttlepods carrying Captain Archer, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Grik had left communications range nearly fifteen minutes earlier and would not return for at least five hours, giving her little to do. As her mind began to drift her eyes caught an unexpected sight, a flashing light indicating an incoming transmission.
Immediately, she started tracing the signal and pressed her earpiece tighter into place as she ran the customary translation matrix over the message. While the computer did its job, she faced the command center of the bridge. “Commander T’Pol, we are receiving a transmission.”
Looking up sharply, T’Pol’s brows knitted slightly together. “From whom, Ensign?”
“Unknown. However, the language is Romulan.”
Now a finely sculpted eyebrow shot up as T’Pol answered, “Indeed? Very well, put it on the view screen, please.”
Shaking her head slowly as she worked over her board, Hoshi replied, “I can’t do that, ma’am. They are sending a visual signal, but it’s incompatible with our systems. The best I can do is audio.”
“All right then, Ensign.”
Hoshi flipped a few switches and amidst a crackle of distortion a voice echoed from around the bridge. “This is Dr. Ziros of the Romulan Star Empire. My family and I are attempting to defect to safety. We are on a small personal vessel and have no weapons. Please respond.”
T’Pol and Sato’s gazes met as a look of surprise came over Hoshi’s features. “Ensign, please open a channel to respond.” With a nod, Sato acknowledged the order and complied; T’Pol spoke into the air, “This is Commander T’Pol of the Starfleet vessel Enterprise. We stand ready to assist you.”
“We will reach your position in a few hours, Commander. I look forward to our meeting. In the mean time, as a sign of good faith, I will send information regarding a weapon recently used to destroy a planet within your quadrant. I believe you call it Ramy Four.”
Even T’Pol was barely able to conceal her surprise at this statement. “Indeed, Doctor. And how is it that you have this information to share?”
A heavy sigh was audible over the line before Ziros answered, “Because I developed it, Commander.”
Ensign Grik sat in silence at the helm controls of shuttlepod two. He wasn’t sure if he should talk to Lieutenant Reed or not. True, they had shared some meals together in the Mess Hall and he seemed polite enough, but that was during off-duty time. On the bridge, Grik had noticed, that Reed was all business and seemed to be a stickler for the rules. ‘Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut,’ thought the young Tellarite.
Reed, himself, was rechecking the phase pistols they had brought along for the third time. When he finished, he moved up to the second pilot’s seat and plopped down. He looked questioningly at the piggish officer for a moment before he decided to ask what had been bugging him ever since Grik had come onboard. “Mind if I ask you something?”
“Not at all, sir,” answered the Ensign.
“Why’d you sign on to Enterprise? I mean, Tellar has its own spacefleet.”
Grik turned to face the Englishman. His beady eyes watered slightly at the personal question, but he was glad to finally talk about his decision with someone. Even his roommate, Ensign Tommy Stiles, hadn’t asked, despite his friendly attitude. “Well, sir, I’ve always been a little different I suppose. Perhaps you’re not aware, but Tellarites are not the most polite of species.”
Reed rolled his eyes at the obvious statement, but Grik continued.
“I never felt very comfortable among my peers, and when our worlds began peace talks I saw an opportunity to meet new races and find a place where I might fit in a little better. My father was furious that I would not be serving on a Tellarite vessel, but I told him it was my decision.”
A new kind of respect for the young officer grew in Reed’s heart. “So, how is your family adjusting? Has your father come around?”
Darkness fell over Grik’s face. His snout seemed to curl into itself as he answered, “My family disowned me when I left. I’ve sent them several letters, but they’ve never responded. My father’s last words to me were that he had no son.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Malcolm lowered his eyes to allow some privacy.
Grik smiled brightly. “It’s okay, Lieutenant. I really don’t mind. Although I do miss my mother, she was no happier with my decision and she hasn’t bothered to answer my letters either. I don’t suppose anyone else knows what it’s like to have such a narrow-minded father, but the choice to end our relationship was his, and it’s his loss.”
Laughing out loud, Reed met the gaze of his companion. “Let me tell you a little about this English Naval family I know!”
Silence reigned throughout the small bridge area where Ziros and his family stood glaring at one another.
Anger etched itself in the prominent forehead of Kiras as he gnashed his teeth and balled his fists. “How could you? Of all the things you’ve done, this is the worst. I can not believe that you would willingly give away state secrets to the enemy!”
Ziros looked weary as he collapsed into a nearby chair, his wife hovering lovingly at his side. “They’re not state secrets. The Empire didn’t even want to continue development of the weapon and all of its designs belong to me. I insisted on keeping certain parts of the process to myself as a safeguard.”
“If possible, I am more ashamed to be your son now than I was when we left Romulus in this stolen ship.” With that, Kiras stormed through the door.
Patting his wife’s hand, Ziros looked up into her eyes. “It’ll be okay, L’Treya. He’ll come around eventually.”
“I hope you’re right, love. I’m afraid you underestimate our son.”
On the planet’s surface, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Grik were attempting sensor scans in the haze of debris and dust that fluttered listlessly through the lower atmosphere. Their limited field of vision in the environmental suits they were forced to wear didn’t help and more than once, they stumbled over the destruction. “I can’t believe anyone could do this to a peaceful planet,” Grik commented as he looked out over what was once a large field.
“According to the Vulcan database, Ramy Four was primarily agrarian. They believed in the unity of life. Apparently, they built their cities to be as unobtrusive to the natural beauty of their world as possible and most of the population still lived in rural communities.” Reed shook his head at the senseless waste.
“Come on,” he continued, indicating a sensor signal leading them north. “I’ve got a strong energy signature this way.”
The two men walked silently among the dead plant-life as a steel-gray dawn peaked over the horizon, glowing dimly through the ash.
“Have we received the information from Dr. Ziros, Ensign?” T’Pol asked from the center seat.
Hoshi looked up and nodded. “Yes. It’s just finished downloading now, Commander. I should have it translated and ready for you in,” the ensign checked the file size quickly, “about twenty minutes.”
T’Pol tilted her head in understanding, “Very good, Ensign.”
Smiling, Archer thought briefly of the graceful young woman he had known and thought of how these structures could easily have flowed from her hand. “Yeah, some of these elements do remind me of her buildings.”
Murol paced his bridge. As he stopped in front of the helmsman, the pilot hesitantly looked up. “Faster!” demanded the general.
“Sir, we’re going as fast as…” the young officer began.
“NO EXCUSES!” Murol screamed at the terrified man as he slammed his fists down on the control panel, causing sparks to fly from the edges of the plating as several systems shorted out. “Find that thieving, lying, disloyal, son-of-a-Vulcan! He can’t have gone far in that starcraft wannabe!”
A female officer on the other side of the bridge braved the general’s wrath by calling out to him, “Sir! I’m receiving a transmission.”
Trip and Archer repacked their gear in the aft of the shuttlepod as they purged the internal atmosphere and replaced the noxious fumes that had filled the cabin when they opened the hatchway with the clean air they had stored in tanks under the deck plating. When the green light on the atmospheric controls board lit up, both men gratefully removed their helmets.
“God, it feels good to be able to breathe again,” Trip stated as he drew in a deep breath of the processed air.
Archer dropped onto a nearby bench and began pulling his legs out of the suit. “What a damned waste,” he growled. “We didn’t learn a thing, these people didn’t bother recording anything in space, they just didn’t care enough about what was happening out there.”
Tucker sat down next to his commanding officer and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Cap’n. Maybe Malcolm and that Tellarite kid got something.”
“Maybe,” Archer said in a very uncertain tone. “Come on,” he said as he rose off the cushion, “let’s get home. I’ve got a dog waiting for me, and you’ve got…” The Captain let his voice trail off with a mischievous grin.
Trip wagged a finger at him and smiled like a schoolboy. “Now, Cap’n, you promised not to mention anything.”
“All right, all right,” Archer laughed, holding his hands up in mock defeat. “Come on, we’ve got a long flight home.” The two friends worked together, chatting about nothing in particular for quite a long while.
A sadistic smile became wider across Murol’s face as he watched the tiny ship grow larger on the warbird’s viewscreen. “At last, Dr. Ziros you shall meet an end fitting the traitorous coward that you are!”
As L’Treya’s eyes scanned the sensor panel in front of her, she thought of her long marriage to Ziros. They had been so happy and so in love, nothing else seemed to matter. It was unimportant that her parents had not approved of him due to his career as a scientist. They had wanted her to marry a military man, someone like her own father. But she had held fast and in the end proved them wrong, she had thought.
Ziros was dedicated to his work and his family fiercely. However, he often spoke of the Praetor with disparity. He seemed to find less and less appealing about the government in general and about the various leaders in particular.
When he’d come home late several days ago and practically shoved her and their son into a ground vehicle with nothing more than the clothes they were wearing and took them to a spaceport, she’d wondered what he’d gotten them involved in. Now, as the proximity warnings began flashing violently, she felt the dread settle heavily in her heart.
“Ziros!” she said anxiously. “There’s a ship coming in on sensors, bearing 180 mark 45. It’s moving at warp four.”
His eyes met his wife’s and they shared the knowing glance that a lifetime together allows. He smiled sadly at her and said, “I’m sorry, love.”
“Yes?” T’Pol calmly asked the excited ensign sitting at the science station.
“There’s a ship registering on long-range sensors,” the woman answered.
T’Pol felt her patience wane as she turned to the junior officer. “I am aware of that, Ensign. It is Dr. Ziros’ ship.”
“No, ma’am. There’s another ship, moving fast toward us.”
Sudden understanding dawned on the Vulcan as she whirled around in her command chair toward the tactical station. “Polarize the hull plating, Ensign.”
Before the officer could finish his job, phase blasts rocked the ship, throwing the bridge crew around like rag dolls. Ensign Vega pulled himself up off the deck and struggled with the controls to activate the plating. “Forward plating down to 65%. All other systems, normal,” he announced loudly over the din.
“Evasive maneuvers,” Ensign Sato’s voice called to the helmsman. He turned briefly to question the order since it wasn’t given by the commanding officer, when he noticed Commander T’Pol lying on the ground, a viscous green fluid pooling around her slim form. “Sickbay,” Hoshi said to the air, “emergency teams to the bridge.”
Pausing to look at her surroundings, Hoshi took a deep breath. “I’m officially taking command,” she announced to the bridge at large. “Ensign Chalmers,” she directed to the science station, “what’s the status on that ship?”
“They’ve moved off, ma’am. They’re headed toward Dr. Ziros’ ship now.”
“Damn,” Hoshi swore under her breath. “Ensign Randall,” she faced the helmsman again, “how far away are we? How fast can we get there?”
“But, our people on the planet,” the young ensign began to argue, “Commander T’Pol didn’t want to abandon them to meet up with Ziros before…”
“How far, Ensign? That’s an order.” Sato’s voice was strong and confident, but inside she was shaking like a child. Just then, the lift doors opened and the medics emerged onto the bridge. They quickly gathered T’Pol’s body onto a stretcher and left again.
“Three minutes at top speed, ma’am,” Randall answered looking appropriately shamed.
Debating briefly within herself, Hoshi reached a decision. “Set a course, Ensign.” She turned back toward tactical. “Vega, get those front plates back up to 100%, draw power from life support if you have to, but I want us covered.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the determined responses from both ensigns.
Archer was in the middle of telling Trip about the latest water polo game he’d seen, when Tucker suddenly doubled over, nearly slamming his head on the console. “Trip! What’s wrong?” Archer moved quickly to his friend, placing a hand along his back and trying to be comforting.
A few deep breaths later, and the engineer was sitting up straight again. “I’m all right, Cap’n, but T’Pol isn’t. We gotta get back, fast.”
“What? How could you…”
Looking up at his friend, Trip’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Trust me, I felt it in the bond. It’s like she’s gone.”
Kiras strode onto the small bridge. He met his father’s gaze and held it.
“You did it, didn’t you?” Ziros asked without any hint of recrimination. “You sent a message to Murol and let him know where we were.”
The younger man held his chin up proudly, “Yes, Father, I did.”
Ziros pointed at the sensor grid and then out the viewer. “Do you see that? They’ll be here in minutes. They’ve already fired on the Starfleet ship and now they’ll destroy us.” He collapsed into the captain’s chair and asked his son, “Why?”
“Because I would rather die serving my Praetor than live as a traitor. I have proven my loyalty to the Empire today, Father. For that, I will be rewarded.”
A snort of derision escaped Ziros as he looked up at his only child. “Only with death, my boy.”
“This is Murol,” the general said to the open channel. “Hello, Ziros.”
A pop of static later and Ziros’ face solidified on the warbird’s screen. “Hello, General. I knew it was you, of course.”
“Ah, yes, but now there will be no doubt in your mind as to who it was that destroyed you.” Without closing the channel, he turned to the weapons station. “Fire,” he stated as calmly as if he’d just ordered a beverage from a food dispenser.
Brilliant blue phased energy flashed out from the warbird and enveloped the tiny private ship. It seemed to glow like a miniature sun for a moment, and then exploded just as powerfully as a supernova. Where Ziros’ face had been on the viewscreen, now only an open starfield remained.
Murol turned again to the communications officer. “Raise that Starfleet ship.”
The explosion lit up the bridge of Enterprise with an unnatural light. As the fierce glow faded away, Hoshi recovered from the shock and immediately ordered Enterprise back to Ramy Four.
“Ma’am, we’re receiving a message from that warbird.”
“Put them on speakers.”
“It’s just a single message; they’ve closed the channel.” The ensign now seated at the communications board flipped a switch and a deep baritone reverberated around the bridge.
“This is General Murol. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the fugitive Ziros. Rest assured, he has been dealt with in the traditional manner for enemies of the Empire. Have a good day.”
“Archer to Enterprise. Archer to Enterprise.” The hail repeated incessantly from the Captain’s lips as he kept a cautious eye on Tucker.
“It’s no use, Cap’n. We’re still too low in the atmosphere.”
The Captain shook his head. “No, we should be able to reach them by now.”
The officers shared a look of trepidation. What if whatever Trip had felt through his bond with T’Pol had affected not just her, but everyone? What if Enterprise was gone?
As quickly as the thought occurred to both men, it was eliminated. “Enterprise to Captain Archer,” Hoshi’s voice rang strongly through the tiny shuttlepod.
“Hoshi? Where’s T’Pol? What the hell’s going on?” Archer asked.
“Sir, there’ve been some developments here that I’d rather not go into over the comm.”
Archer noted that she sounded tired and more than a little scared, something that didn’t happen very often anymore. “All right, Ensign. We’re on course to rendezvous with you in fifteen minutes. Meet us in the landing bay.”
As the channel closed, the long-time friends cast worried gazes at the small ship’s viewscreen, as if the answers they sought would be found there. But all they saw was the looming vision of their home.
“May I ask a question, sir?” quivered the voice of a frightened young woman.
“What is it?” beamed Murol. He was in an incomparably good mood. Now that Ziros had acted so foolishly, his own place in Romulan history would be certain.
She cleared her throat and croaked out, “Well, sir, I was just wondering why we didn’t destroy the Starfleet ship too?”
“An excellent question, Ensign.” The General offered with an evil grin. “The Praetor has decided that expansion is the best next step for the Empire and that the destruction of enemy ships would draw unwanted attention from our foes. Besides, now they have seen how we treat those that oppose us and they will go back to tell all of their allies. No one will wish to face us once they hear of this day.”
The seals had barely cleared before Trip was out of the shuttlepod and storming onto the landing bay. “Where’s T’Pol?” he demanded of Hoshi.
“She’s in Sickbay, sir.” The once timid Ensign answered and Tucker disappeared through the hatchway before Archer even made it down the ramp.
“Captain,” Sato began once he was approaching her. “A lot has happened, sir.”
“Fill me in on the way to the bridge, Ensign.”
Trip entered Sickbay at a run and barely stopped before plowing down Dr. Phlox.
“Calm down, Commander,” the Denobulan started as he raised his hands at the engineer.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Doc. Where’s T’Pol?” he looked anxiously past the doctor, searching the biobeds for the familiar form. He finally noticed the pulled curtain around the last bed and headed that way, circling around Phlox.
“Commander T’Pol has sustained some very serious injuries, but I believe she will make a full recovery,” Phlox explained as he hurried to catch up with Tucker, who shot him a look of disbelief and suddenly stopped walking.
He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then faced the doctor again. “If she’s gonna be okay, why isn’t she here?” he asked, stabbing at the side of his head with his right hand.
“Excuse me?” asked Phlox, his normally exuberant smile fading fast.
Tucker took a deep breath and quickly explained about the bond. “And just a little while ago,” he concluded, “she just vanished from my head. It’s like she was never there at all.” His voice trailed off and he looked back at the drawn curtain.
“Of course, I’m familiar with the mating bond from serving on Vulcan, but I had no idea that one could be established with a human,” he looked ready to sit Trip down on his own biobed and begin studying him, but stopped himself when the engineer shot him a look of impatience. “Oh, right, anyway, I assure you, Commander, Commander T’Pol is doing just fine. I don’t know why you’ve lost the connection, but she is going to be okay.”
Nodding his acceptance without looking at the doctor, Trip asked, “Can I sit with her?”
“Yes, of course you can.”
Phlox had not finished answering before Trip was moving around the edge of the curtain.
End Episode Five
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A whole mess of folks have made comments
Wow, very good instalment, filled with angst, & a very exciting ending, loved the interaction between Trip & Archer, also good to finally see Hoshi mature into the potential officer material we know she is, please add more chapters soon, really looking forward to reading more of this excellent fic.........thanks, Tony
I read this first on ff.net, great stuff, can't wait for more of the season! :)
Looks great! And loved the shout-out to "Balance of Terror" - Ensign STILES. Heh.
Really looking forward to reading more!
Hey Rigil Kent! Glad you caught that, I wasn't sure if anyone would! The Stiles from BOT mentioned having several ancestors in the first Romulan War, so I thought it'd make a nice tie-in.
Not only did I notice it, but I did the same thing over in 'Elysium' (although I screwed up the name and called him Styles. Ah well...)
Looking forward to the next one!
Very interesting... and at the same time, I'm in agony over the ending!! No closure!! Gah! :-P
Good stuff! I can't wait to read more. :-)
Another exciting chapter...thanks! And I was so glad to see the Grikster back! I love that "Tellerite kid" :-)
OOOh, the delicious angst of the disappearing bond. Please don't wait too long to resolve it. I can't stand it!
First, to Rigil Kent:
I'm sorry that I haven't read your story yet. I'll have to correct that oversight this week. I can hardly wait now!
Secondly, to Distracted:
I apologize if it seems the "disappearing bond" was borrowed from your great works! Honestly, I didn't even think of that similarity until just yesterday. I'm a huge fan of your ongoing series and can hardly wait for the next chapter!
Great story, can't wait for more!!
WOW WOW WOW!
The prologue was great
The prologue was great