Disclaimers in Introduction. Send (polite) comments to yankee_pendragon@hotmail.com

Previously: A reconnaissance mission to Martian-overrun Earth consisting of eight young heroes and led by Franklin Richards has gone terribly awry. After somehow going off-course and loosing contact with both their home base on Asgard and the other half of their team, Franklin’s unit crashed into something while in sub-space (which should have been utterly impossible). All four teammates awoke to find themselves alive and essentially unhurt in a pastoral wilderness…with absolutely no idea where they are.

WAR OF THE WORLDS: MISSION INTO THE UNKNOWN

ISSUE TWO: ENCOUNTER

“Okay, so...where are we?”

Richie’s very sensible question set Franklin thinking. It was a small miracle that the four of them had landed relatively close to each other and no-one suffered anything worse than a few bruises. This was very good news for them all, though only in the tactical sense. Strategically, they were operating blind, with no clue as to terrain, local population, or other possible hazards. That had to change, and fast.

Rachel? Franklin called mentally, prompting Phoenix too look up quickly.

Yes? Her mental voice was a sensual purr that traveled clear down his spin. He favored her with a quick grin of appreciation.

Psi-link the four of us.

Done. Everyone linked?

I hear ya, Ray.

Same here, Franklin.

I ever tell ya how cool this all is, Ray?

Frequently, Imp.

Well, its really, really cool…

Can the chatter, Imp.

Gotcha, boss. Zippin’ the lip.

Franklin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Richie was his biological cousin, though he’d always been more of a worshipful younger brother, and the singular jokester-slash-irritant to his life. Franklin couldn’t imagine him being any other way, nor life without his common sense needling. Not that it had every saved him from deserved dressing-down or occasionally getting himself folded into...interesting shapes by himself or Angelica. Until we know exactly where we are, we assume we’re in enemy territory. Phoenix and Imp, do aerial recon. Sweep outwards fifteen miles and keep out of sight. Especially note any wreckage or settlements you sight.

Gotcha, boss.

Spider-Girl, you’re with me. We go overland and rendezvous at that lake. He pointed out towards the sheet of solid blue in the near distance. Both of you, be careful. Keep out of sight as much as possible.

So no pterodactyls? Richie sounded profoundly disappointed.

No bloody pterodactyls.

Killjoy.

Imp, we’ve got no idea what’s living here. And I’d rather we not spook the natives just yet.

Killjoy.

You know it. Keep in touch, the both of you.

Absolutely, boss.

Imp shrank in size and reformed into the shape of an adolescent sparrow hawk. After a few leaping steps, he was airborne and gaining altitude. His departure was watched by his teammates.

Should I follow him?

Franklin shook his head. No. He knows his business.

Phoenix closed her eyes and her normally pale skin took a golden glow that first matched, then surpassed that of her uniform. The red of her close-cropped hair was soon lost beneath strands of golden energy that flared out and wove about her like a thing alive. The corona of the Phoenix materialized about her as she began ascending upwards without so much as rustling the grass under her.

She hovered a few inches off the ground for a heartbeat, and then was nothing more than a golden streak of motion, vanishing into the empty sky overhead.

Franklin and May could only stand there and stare for several moments. “Can I just say,” May whispered, eyes still fixed upwards. “That woman utterly terrifies me sometimes.”

She terrifies herself most of the time. Rachel’s earnest psi-whisper filled them both, like a warm breath over their souls.

“C’mon,” Franklin whispered, taking Spider-girl’s gloved hand in his and leading her away. It took a couple stumbling steps to pull her gaze back down from the sky, after which she was quick to match pace with Franklin.

The lake proved to be further away than it first appeared. The landscape was not especially arduous, the hills gentle in slope and easily traversed. The rest of it was even and unchallenging. There was just...a lot of space between where they started and where they were going.

Strangely, Spider-girl seemed to have a harder time of it than Franklin. She never let go of his hand and matched his steps. Nevertheless she would frequently find herself stumbling and unsteady, as if she were unused to the gravity or even simply standing upright. Franklin missed none of this, but held back questioning her on it.

Then again, he was feeling a bit off-color and none too steady himself. He could feel through the psi-link that both Phoenix and Imp weren’t in much better shape, though neither spoke aloud of it, their respective discomfort radiating through nevertheless. This naturally had him worried as the med-scans showed nothing more serious than the odd bruise. He guarded his thoughts on this, lest he broadcast it to the others.

It was a good hour before they were within close sight of the water, which proved to be less of the lake than a sizable pond, fed by a waterfall off the tall hills beside it. There were little thickets of trees here and there along the shoreline. The day had warmed slightly, though no worse than a mild spring day in Little Midgard.

Spider-Girl had put a brave front up, matching him step-for-step, but ultimately gave him a tug on the arm and sent Franklin? I gotta sit down. Even her mental ‘voice’ sounded slurred, prompting him to unceremoniously pick her up and carry her to the small crop of trees a dozen steps off. He was anything but reassured at her passive acceptance of such help.

Gently setting her down to lean against on of the trees, he pulled her mask off. Her eyes were closed and features completely slack. Prying one eye open, Franklin gave a shaky sigh at seeing the chocolate brown orb rotating in what he knew to be REM sleep. After repositioning her for maximum comfort possible, Franklin stood and looked skywards.

Imp, Phoenix, home in on our location and get down here. Something’s wrong and…Richie wake up! Franklin felt a stab of panic at the ‘sight’ of Imp falling asleep literally in mid-flight. When the youngster didn’t respond, he nearly screamed Rachel!

I have him. Franklin released a breath, ‘seeing’ the fiery corona of the Phoenix catching and gently cradling the small sparrow hawk. He’s just out cold, Franklin. Actually, he’s, um…

What?

He’s snoring. Phoenix let him hear the quiet buzz coming from the youngster.

May is down as well. And don’t try telling me you aren’t ready to fall over, either.

I’ll make it.

Damn right you will. Now get down here. He hadn’t even finished thinking it before Phoenix descended to the ground before him. Imp had reverted to his normal human shape and was held aloft by her TK. The Phoenix corona faded as she levitated him to lie a discrete length from Spider-Girl, who had rolled to her side and pillowed her head on one arm.

Franklin pulled his eyes from this most inviting sight to level a gaze at Phoenix. You lie down and get some rest as well. I think we’re all more exhausted than we realized.

Phoenix met his gaze full on. What about you? Her psi-voice radiated disapproval like physical heat.

He gave her a grin and held up a small, clear packet containing a pair of capsules. Hey, No-Doze is a wonderful thing.

Rachel glared at this, her mouth pressing into a dangerously thin line, only for her own features to loosen and relax a second later. Franklin moved forward and caught her in both arms before she could fall. Wrapping her own arms about him, Rachel pleaded Please promise me you won’t overdo it. Promise me that you’ll sleep as well.

I’ll keep watch for a bit, and then wake Richie. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, eliciting a deep shudder from the redhead.

You know, I could always levitate Richie to the other side of the pond and… She let the thought trail off seductively.

Don’t tempt me, you sadistic witch. Franklin’s silent laughter threatened to become vocal, and so he put his forehead to hers and focused his thoughts on a single word: SLEEP. Franklin had virtually no conscious access to his own formidable psychic powers, but he could summon enough to ‘tap’ certain nerve centers in the human brain, knocking the subject out as thoroughly as getting cold-cocked. He’d had to do this a few times before, not the least of which was when Rachel’s arrival left half of Asgard, then Little Midgard toppled like children’s building blocks.

You bast… Rachel’s laughing curse drifted off as she went completely limp. Franklin smiled grimly, envisioning the nine shades of hell she would likely visit on him once she woke up, carefully cradling her with one arm as he worked off his multi-pocketed jacket with the other. He carried her over and laid her next to May, who instinctively rolled over and snuggled close. He folded his jacket into a loose pillow and eased it under their heads.

Satisfied, he moved off to sit on a nearby rock, careful to keep his eyes directed well away from the sleeping figures behind him. He emptied the pair of capsules from their packet and swallowed both dry, wincing a bit and sitting up straighter as raw caffeine slammed into his system.

Senses alert and sharpened to a knife’s edge, Franklin settled down to guard his charges, very careful to keep his arms folded and away from his sidearm. He kept his mind busy multitasking between keeping watch and replaying the confrontation in the hanger the night before, wondering where his relationship with his family had seemingly gone so wrong.

He’d waited a short while after May had gone chasing after Ben, half-expecting her to return after shooing him out of the building with her usual dire threats. It took him that long to regain his composure and reassert control over his more traitorous regions.

When May didn’t return quickly, and didn’t seem likely to do so, he left the civic center and found himself wandering towards the hangers. He’d promised himself he would get at least a few hours of rest before lift-off. This meant he couldn’t do more than run a few cursory diagnostics on FC-3 if he was going to keep to his word, something he had been trying rather hard of late to do.

The diagnostics themselves were entirely computerized and automated. This actually left him little to do while the programs ran their course. He was considering moving over to FC-4 when he heard a depressingly familiar tap-tap-tap approaching. The sigh was past his lips before he realized it, betraying his presence where he might have otherwise stayed hidden. Of course, he could also possibly break the Rainbow Bridge by just hitting it with a toothpick.

The approaching figure stopped short of the open hatch and called out “Franklin?”

Franklin waited a moment, squared his shoulders and called back “A moment, please.” He took lost, pointless look about the control panels, satisfied they were all in working order. Unable to delay in the inevitable, he pulled himself through the hatch and neatly landed before the newcomer.

Alicia Masters stood a slender five foot, seven inches, leaving her nearly a head shorter than Franklin himself. She was dressed casually in faded jeans and windbreaker, her red-and-white cane held loosely in one hand while her pale blue eyes stared unerringly upwards at him. The intense, wholly natural presence that was her plumage, that absolute confidence and center of self that cowed even the assembled Sky Fathers, left little doubt who was towering over whom just then.

“I take it Rachel isn’t here?” she asked.

“No,” Franklin affirmed. “I sent her ho...er, back to her place to rest. I take it she talked with Val?”

Alicia folded her arms and tapped a disapproving foot. “You know she did.”

“Uhm...”

The blind sculptress took a deliberate step forward, invading the personal space of her beloved ‘nephew’. Franklin fought the instinct to take a corresponding step back. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, as if she could actually see him.

Not one to be intimidated, Franklin grit his teeth and stated, “If there’s something you need to say, Alicia, please just say it.” The lack of patronymic did not go unnoticed, Alicia’s jaw subtly tightening at the absence. “Otherwise I need to get back to work.” He actually started to turn back to FC-3, a effort to escape the threatening storm.

A vain effort, Alicia’s gentle/strong hand shooting out before he’d moved even a centimeter, grasping his forearm and stopping him dead. There was strength in those slender fingers, strength beyond measure.

Franklin instinctively tensed, hands and arms tingling with ready countermoves that could shake off that hand and send the smaller woman incapacitated. It was a waste of energy, as he could no more raise so much as a finger against her any more than he might seek to seize the thrones of Asgard and Olympus for himself.

He nevertheless forced himself to meet her blind eyes full on. “Yessss?” he hissed.

“I heard about this mission just now, when Val finally cried herself to sleep. Were you going to try sneaking off again?”

The first flicker of actual temper was lit at this comment. Still, this was Aunt Alicia, and temper had no place with her. “I’m not sneaking off,” he’d hissed.

“No? Then why aren’t you sending Vincent or Matrix instead.”

“We decided...”

“Who is ‘we’? I don’t recall sitting in any meetings on this.” There were few decisions in Little Midgard that Alicia wasn’t a party to. It had been agreed early on that she wouldn’t be on this one, lest she make the very practical argument that none of those chosen to go were really ready for it, leaving the mission stillborn.

Rather than risk trying to explain that one, he replied with his stock answer. “I’m the only one qualified to fly FC-3 through sub-space. Plus I’m the only present with first-hand experience with Martian units to make a decent appraisal in the field. I have to go. End of story, Alicia.”

He turned away again, only to be dragged back by that same slender/strong hand. Those hands held him long ago, when he was a child. They had comforted him and kept him safe. He had missed that, as he had missed so much in the time it had taken him to find his way to Asgard.

“Bull.” Alicia tapped him on the shoulder with her cane and hissed “I diapered your bottom, Franklin. Don’t forget that.”

Anger spiked in his heart at this, and died a quick death there. He simply nudged the cane away and said “I haven’t been a child for a very, very long time, Alicia.”

“I...no, you haven’t.” It was a reluctant concession from her. She nevertheless seemed determined to press the issue. “You shouldn’t be the one going. You’re needed here.”

Franklin had to count to ten before answering. She would never see the gray sprinkling his crew-cut hair, nor the persistent stubble on his jaw, nor the early wrinkles and shadows about his eyes. Surely she could hear it in his voice. Unlike Valeria - barely a toddler when the sky fell on them all - or Jonni and the others, he had lived through that fire, marched through it and been left scarred…scarred in ways he feared would never heal. He put both hands on her shoulders and spoke in as reassuring a tone as he could manage. “You’ve got Val, Vincent, and Matrix here to run support...”

Alicia furiously pushed his hands away. “That isn’t what I mean and you know it! What about Val, hmm? What happens to her, and Jonni and Angel and the others if you...if you...”

“I didn’t know we were such trial for you, Alicia!” It was out of his mouth before he realized it, sending them recoiling from each other in shock. “Aunt Alicia...” he began, only to be silenced when Alicia’s open palm struck him full across the cheek. It resounded like a thunderclap, drowning out whatever apology or explanation he might have voiced.

Alicia would have none of it however, spinning on her heel and all but sprinting out of the hanger. He could only watch her go, the tears that immediately came to him had nothing to do with the sting of the slap itself. Franklin could only stumble back towards the solid mass of FC-3, collapsing against it as the enormity of his trespass hit him.

He was like that when Rachel floated down from overhead a few minutes later. He felt rather than saw the concern from her; concern, and more. Her slender arms encircled him quickly, drawing him to her as the first angry tears began leaking.

I hurt Alicia, he wept silently to her.

You hurt each other, she soothed. Family does that.

What the hell do you know about family! His silent snarl had precisely the opposite effect intended: she held him tighter, his own arms refusing his command to release her.

Their lips sought each other’s out on purest instinct, neither conscious of the connection until it was already joined.

Somewhere in the distance a door slammed shut, the echo acknowledged by them both a few moments after. He felt Rachel go utterly still at the sight of May approaching them, unmasked, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot.

There was no mistaking either her expression or stance as she approached.

Distant movement near the waterfall pulled Franklin from his rumination and had him crouching behind concealment. A few moments observation had him turning back and closing a firm hand over Richie’s nose and mouth. The young hybrid awoke almost at once, startled enough that he nearly let loose a full laser burst from his eyes. Franklin gave him a serious, one might say murderous glare against it.

Calming his breathing, he nodded his understanding to Franklin, who in turn removed his hand and, using the hand signals they’d been drilled on since the cradle to communicate “possible enemy sighted, one figure only”. He moved to crouch beside his elder teammate, who had retrieved his mirrorshades and had them on again, and focused on the waterfall several yard’s distant.

Concentrating, Richie altered the structure of his eyes to provide him a better view; this caused his eyes literally extend outwards from both sockets, like twin telescopes of glowing gold, providing him the equivalent of 200/20 vision. Had he not been otherwise distracted, Franklin might have scolded the youngster for seeming frivolity, though more likely he would have simply laughed.

As it was, they watched their distant target. It was difficult to discern details, even for Imp’s vastly improved vision, because the target was standing behind the waterfall itself. The curtain of water obscured all but the vaguest features: the figure was humanoid in shape and moved with ease in the water. The rest of it was lost behind the cascade.

Richie looked back towards Franklin. More accurately, his telescoping eyes simply curved around to stare up at his elder. He blinked once, his eyelids slowly traveling the complete length of both eyes before snaking back to their starting point. This didn’t solicit a reaction from his cousin, save a gentle cuff on the back of his head. Grinning, Richie ‘retracted’ his eyes as they carefully backed away.

Franklin quickly signed that Richie should transform into something aquatic and enter the water, so to get a better look at the target. Richie nodded and crept back towards the water, only to be stopped a moment later when Franklin’s hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder. He nearly broke silence in surprise, only to have Franklin’s other hand wrap itself over his mouth again. More hand-signs followed, instructing him to swim down the wide stream that flowed out from the pond. Richie nodded his understanding, then suddenly shrunk down into the form of a dark skinned eel that slipped soundlessly beneath the water.

Franklin took another quick look towards the waterfall, easing himself back towards the girls, who were seemingly still asleep and cuddled close to one another. Loathe as he was to disturb either of them, they were still in hostile territory, and he’d just sent their youngest teammate off into it alone. He needed them up and active alongside him. More to the point, he needed them…

They were up and crouching beside him before he even blinked. He had to remind himself to actually flinch with surprise.

He quickly signed of sighting the figure near the waterfall and sending Richie off to recce downstream. He finished with an open palm held parallel to his forehead, signaling Phoenix to severe all psi-links immediately and ‘wall off’ any use of her psi-abilities. There was no telling if the locals were psi-sensitive, or, gods forbid, actually psychic themselves. He knew from experience how easy it was to trip up and give away one’s position to a passive TP. Bad enough he hadn’t thought of that when they’d first woken up.

Phoenix understood immediately and cut the connection between them all. Richie, some yards distant by then, barely noticed. For Franklin and May however, their closer proximity only intensified the intimate sense of loss. May actually staggered slightly while Franklin’s scowl only grew deeper. Rachel herself simply blinked…and stared blankly ahead for several seconds, as might a complete tabula rasa.

All three quickly recovered. Franklin issued more orders through sign, directing Spider-Girl to crawl off and covertly scout overland. Phoenix was to remain with him, keeping her passive psi-sense alert for even the most casual contact. They would keep an eye on the target behind the waterfall for the time being and wait for Spider-Girl and Imp to finish their recon.

Both nodded their understanding, Spider-Girl then quickly and noiselessly disappearing into the underbrush. Phoenix lingered for a moment to watch her go, and then carefully moved over to crouch beside Franklin, who had donned his high-tech mirrorshades again. She was careful to remain behind him, her black-on-gold uniform not the most conducive to lurking in the shadows, unlike Franklin’s own jacket-and-bodysuit combination.

Tempted as she was to reach out with her psychic abilities, if only to make the most cursory scan on the distant figure, Franklin’s prohibition kept her ‘quiet’. Her mind however was anything but still, and Franklin’s presence prompted thoughts of recent encounters better not contemplated (in public, at least).

She’d left the Grimm-Richards home after managing to calm Valerie enough so the girl could cry herself to sleep. All the while Valerie had mentally railed over how Franklin was sure to get himself killed and she’d be alone for the rest of her life and so on and so forth. Reassurance that herself, May, her Aunt Alicia, cousins Angelica and Richie and Suzy, as well as Ben, ‘Aunt’ MJ, Howard, Beverly, and practically the entire Second Cohort would always be there for her fell on mostly-deaf ears; Franklin was the center of her universe, and so anything that took him from her was a virtual guarantee she’d be alone forever.

Rachel often wondered if the elder Richards had the slightest inkling how central he was to them all. From Mayor Rhodes all the way down to the trainees in the Third Cohort and even the Aesir, all regarded him with unusual deference and routinely consulted him on every aspect of training and preparations. Franklin’s fingerprints were to be found in nearly ever detail, no matter how small, yet he carried himself as though he still needed to prove his worth.

She supposed it was part of his charm, trite as that sounded. It was that unassuming charm that drew her to him. It was part of his charm, she supposed. That and the fact he was one of the few who simply accepted her from the start. The Aesir were by turns deferential, stand-offish, and outrightly nervous-as-hell around her. Ditto with all three Cohorts (Franklin and May excepted, of course) and Province Council (save May’s mum and Franklin’s Aunt Alicia).

This lack of close social contacts strangely didn’t bother that much, though this lack of concern did leave her a bit worried. She’d never worked up the nerve to broach the subject with anyone, least of all Franklin or May, and there were no other telepaths beside herself amongst either Cohorts or residents of Little Midgard. Anytime she’d actively contemplated this, she felt only nausea and a strange sort of shame. This naturally left disinclined to probe the matter further. It almost felt like a betrayal of some kind, one that never failed to bring tears to her eyes.

She was saved from further such rumination by a discrete cough overhead as she passed by the gymnastics building; so discrete in fact Rachel almost missed it. Looking up, she started at the sight of two patches of pure white gazed down at her from the nearby wall. It took her but a moment to realize who it actually was, causing her to giggle at her reaction.

“Yes, Ben?” she asked as calmly as she could, hand half-over her mouth to stifle those stubborn giggles.

“Er...can I uh...”

Something in his hesitant voice set off alarm bells. “Ben?”

“Uh...” The youngster crawled out of the shadows overhead, allowing her see tension that nearly set his shoulders shaking.

“Is something wrong?”

“CanItalktoyouforasecond?” Rachel blinked as she tried to make out his rushed speech.

“Ben...”

“JustforasecondIpromisereallyreallypromisepleasedon’tbrainfrymeplease...”

She’d had enough, and so psychically yelled Ben!

“Eep!” Normally she would have avoided using her power this way, particularly given how little exposure most of the Cohort trainees had to psychic abilities. It was doubtlessly jarring for the youngster, and so she was quick to reassure him as best she could.

I don’t “brainfry” people. And yes, you can speak with me. Just please, calm down.

“OkayokayokayIpromiseI’ll...”

Ben!

“Eep! Sorry!”

Rachel took a deep breath and favored him with the gentlest, most welcoming smile she could

manage. May said it made her look like the cat about to swallow the canary, whatever a canary was.

Do you want me to come up there?

“Errr...d’you mind? I mean its okay if ya don’t wanna...”

Keeping her smile as gentle and open as possible, Rachel levitated herself upwards so she and Ben were eye-to-eye. ‘Sitting’ herself into the lotus position, Rachel folded her hands into her lap and leaned forward slightly. “Now, what’s the rumpus?”

Ben adjusted his own position so he was ‘sitting’ facing her. “Er, what’s a rumpus?”

“I have no idea. I just heard it in a movie recently.”

“Which one?”

“That crime one May was gushing about last week. “Miller” something...look, never mind that. What’s wrong, Ben?”

“Well...” The boy’s anxiety was sounding in her head like a twenty-bell chorus, yet Rachel forced herself to remain still and calm. “You...like May, right?”

She blinked as the question registered. There were aspects to it Ben was entirely unaware of, not to mention too young to comprehend or appreciate. She opted for keeping her voice as neutral as possible and a simple “Yes?”

“Well, are you guys going with Franklin tomorrow morning?”

“Yes?”

“You like Franklin, too, right? I mean, I hear stuff...stuff gets said...”

“Yes, I like Franklin too. Ben, what’s this all about?” The youngster’s anxiety suddenly spike and an unsettling thought hit her. “Is there something wrong with May?”

Ben remained silent and pressed himself back against the wall, as though hoping the shadows would swallow him whole. “Ben, if there’s something wrong we need to let Franklin know...”

“IsawFranklinandMaykissingintheconferenceroom!”

Rachel was sure she misheard, and so asked “What was that?”

“I...saw... IsawFranklinandMaykissingintheconferenceroom!”

“You saw Franklin?” Ben nodded, shoulders shaking. “You saw Franklin and May together... kissing?” Ben nodded again, posture a picture of absolute misery. “And that’s it? Just them kissing?”

“You aren’t gonna...gonna do anything to ‘em...I mean...” The poor boy’s worry for his sister was so overwhelming Rachel nearly laughed aloud, though more from relief that nothing was actually wrong than Ben’s almost-comical worry for his sibling’s safety.

Swallowing her laughter, Rachel moved closer to Ben and said as seriously as possible “Ben, I swear to you, I will not do anything whatsoever to either May or Franklin while we’re on this mission.”

“Um, you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Well, um, okay then. I guess.” He turned and began wall-crawling, then suddenly stopped and looked back. “What about after you guys get back?” This time Rachel couldn’t stop herself chuckling aloud. Ben actually sounded mildly offended by this as he said “Hey, she’s my sister an’ all. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her.”

Rachel forced her expression to sober and reached out a hand towards the youngster. Ben took the offered hand after a moment’s hesitation and met her gaze directly. Covering his hand in both of hers, Rachel said in an earnest tone “Ben, I swear to you I will not do anything to hurt either your sister or Franklin, now or ever.” Several qualifiers to this vow came to mind, but she neither voiced them nor paid them mind.

Instead she released the boy’s hand and waited to see if he had further objection or concern to voice. When he remained silent beyond a simple nod, Rachel gave him another smile and lowered herself back to the ground while the boy himself resumed his wall-crawling towards to the roof of the gym. Once both feet were on the ground, Rachel glanced upwards, relieved to see Ben was gone from sight.

She took a moment to ponder the last several minutes, from Ben’s revelation (and just what the heck was he doing in Conference A after the briefing had broken up) to her rather hasty and likely unconvincing vow (reminding herself to offer to write it in blood next time). There was only one thing for it all: she needed to see Franklin, and fast!

The hangers were on the far end of the town, some kilometers distant. She could simply hoof it on foot without difficulty; Bright Lady knew she was fit enough for it.

But she needed to see Franklin. Fast!

She was airborne and nearly halfway there before she’d finished the thought. It was moments like that left her in awe of her own powers...and totally sympathetic to the unvoiced fears that she often caught whispers of.

Before she knew it, she was hovering over the main hanger, flinching at the storm of emotions that emanated from within. Rachel instantly recognized the two psi-signatures as Franklin and Aunt Alicia, making the intensity of the emotions she sensed all the more unnerving.

She debated whether she should intervene or not was rendered moot when she spied Alicia half-run-stumble out of the building and back into the town. The emotional storm, both within and without, did not abate with her departure.

Rachel knew where she needed to be...and she was there.

Franklin was slumped against the spherical FC-3, head hung and broadcasting absolute misery. Rachel landed beside him and wrapped her arms about him. It was awkward, but felt right all the same.

Only instinctively tight discipline kept her from reacting to his mental cry. I hurt Alicia.

Rachel naturally didn’t believe that for an instant. You hurt each other, she soothed. That’s what family does.

What the hell do you know about family? She didn’t pull back from this; if anything, she clung tighter to him. There was pain behind those harsh words, meant to drive those nearest away. Unacceptable.

Rachel didn’t consciously realize she was pulling him about, never mind smashing her lips to his until she felt the pressure both above…and below.

Lost as she was in those pleasurable sensations, Rachel barely noticed the arrival of their long-time teammate. At least not until a very familiar psi-voice sang out Ah - ha!

She and Franklin turned as one, the full force of the smoldering fire alight in May’s eyes hitting them both.

Franklin’s hand on her knee shook her from further such reminiscences. He’d pocketed his glasses once more and hand-signaled “target moving; follow and remain hidden”. She nodded her understanding and followed him carefully as they moved along the embankment, keeping to concealment as best they could.

Some meters still distant, Franklin paused and signed for her to remain there while he moved closer. He didn’t give the opportunity to refuse, quickly turning away and continuing on alone. Not for the first time she regretted her choice of colors for her uniform. Bright gold might have been appropriate for her powers, but was nearly worthless for sneaking about in the bush like this.

Rachel put such recriminations from her thoughts and flattened herself to the ground so to better watch as Franklin edged his way forward. She could hear what sounded like singing from behind the waterfall. It was hardly a choral aria, but a melodious tone nonetheless. She could also make out other features of the ‘target’ (who still remained behind the waterfall) now: it appeared to be an adult woman, Caucasian, and apparently engaged in nothing more sinister than a late-morning shower. There was a pile of simple linen and a short staff sitting near edge of the pond.

Movement near the crest of the hill caught her eye, causing her to start at the sight of several animals calmly ambling about. They were short quadrupeds, with absurdly short legs and flattened faces that seemed to disappear into the fluffy white fur covering them, making them look a bit like walking clouds.

Rachel resisted the urge to mentally call out to Franklin and warn him of the new arrivals. His last orders on that score remained foremost in her mind.

Which was why she let loose a tiny squeak of shock when Richie’s mental voice called out Hey, guys. You won’t guess who I just…

Franklin was the first to respond. Richie! Shut up!

To her horror, Rachel realized he’d spoken both mentally and aloud. Franklin must have caught it as well, going by the spasm anger that hit her a moment later. Everybody stay quiet. Maybe they don’t hear us.

The figure they had been watching had left the waterfall and donned her clothing (a simple, one-piece tunic) and staff, which was curved into a sort of hook at one end. Rachel could only barely make out tanned skin and a shock of long hair the color of fresh snow. She was looking about oddly, as if disquieted by some vague sense or sound, only to shrug a moment later and begin walking towards the strange animals.

What happened next went so quickly Rachel barely realized it: the woman hadn’t taken more than three steps when she smoothly swung her staff off her shoulder and into the bushes she passed. A surprised yell that echoed both aloud and inside her mind, the staff’s hooked end catching hold of a startled Franklin, who was pulled into the open by the same smooth motion and sent tumbling.

Distantly she admired the economy of motion he employed as he used his momentum to somersault and land more or less back on his feet. She barely registered the near-comical look of shock that crossed Franklin’s face as he faced his nominal attacker. Even the shake of the hand he extended towards the woman was clearly visible through the red haze of fury that shaded both vision and thought.

These things were only distant considerations, barely noticed as she once again took flight, the Phoenix flaring to life about her. A great raptor’s claw of pure psionic fire reached out and scooped up the white-haired woman, holding her aloft in a grip that was at once gentle and unbreakable. There was nothing gentle in the ‘voice’ that spoke

YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE THAT!

It was and wasn’t Rachel’s voice, its power and majesty resounding in their minds and soul’s like an angel’s choir in an echo chamber. It was enough to shake Franklin out of whatever shock had paralyzed him before. Rachel! Stop!

SHE HURT YOU.

No, she didn’t. Put her down immediately. That’s an order, Phoenix!

SHE…why?

Look at her! Almost against her will, Rachel felt the haze clear from both her mind and sight, allowing her to clearly see the woman she held aloft. The Phoenix corona had faded as soon as her mind cleared, leaving nothing between her and the woman save empty air. She stared in eyes both dark and depthless, eyes she instinctively recognized.

Put her down. Rachel did as ordered, gently returning the woman - who looked her over with a mixture of puzzlement and open curiosity, but without the slightest trace of fear – and herself to the ground. Rachel likewise took in the familiar features before her: the noble and elegant oval face, broad forehead, wide-set dark eyes, and untamed mane of purest white.

“Raven?” she blurted aloud, prompting the woman to blink once, then rush forward and seize her by the shoulders.

“You…you know Raven? Where is she?” Her previous calm vanished as she began to shake the still-confused Rachel. “Where is she? Where is my daughter!” she all but screamed, nearly causing Rachel to cringe before her hysteria.

Franklin quickly stepped forward and pulled the nearly hysterical woman away, grasping her by the arms and holding her steady. He locked eyes with her and spoke clearly. “Clea, listen to me. She’s safe. I swear to you, she and the others are all…they’re all…safe…”

The world began spinning as he spoke. He could feel consciousness begin to slip away, quicker than sand slipping through an hourglass.

“Franklin?” Rachel’s voice was so distant, he couldn’t tell if it was spoken or psionic. Nor had he the strength to reply.

“They’rrrrre…safffff…” He heard his own voice slur and vanish as he tumbled senseless into the dark void.

A distant cry of “Franklinnnnnnnnnnnn!” followed his descent, consciousness lost long before his body reached the ground.

End of Issue two

Next issue: the team talks to dead people, and Rachel takes another nap.

Author’s two bits: I’ve also been directed by the Pendragons production team to make the following public service announcement:

Feed your favorite writers today because:

MORE FEEDBACK = MORE FAN FIC!

Kinda says it all, doesn’t it? See you in a fortnight.