End of RAF

[theyoungphoenix]

Probably one of the most important parts of anything.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Chapter Thirty-three

The phone rang.

Monica glanced at the caller ID.  Unavailable.  No number, no name.

Well, if they were unavailable, then so was she.  She simply let it ring, while she continued to idly check her email.

The call went to the answering machine.  "Monica?"  There was a sigh.  "Monica, pick up the phone.  It's Estelore."

Raising an eyebrow, she finally picked up the handset that was sitting next to her computer.  "Estelore?" she said into the phone.  "Feels like I haven't heard from you in forever.  What gives, with the unavailable number?"

"What?" Estelore said.  "Oh.  Your phone probably can't register the Mark's signal correctly.  Anyway, that isn't important.  What's important right now is-"

A British voice could be heard in the background, speaking quite clearly, over a subtle murmur of other voices.  "Guys, I found Richard!  The search finished!  I'm locked onto his signal now, so it should be fairly easy to see where he-"

Estelore seemed distracted for a moment, but then they continued, their own slightly Welsh accent covering up the more distant British one.  "Anyway, we need your help."

Monica, however, was vaguely intrigued by what she had just heard.  "Richard?"

"Yeah, you remember him, don't you?" Estelore said, seeming to hesitate for a second or two before going on.  "Richard's Animorphs Forum?"

Monica rolled her eyes as she loudly sighed, uttering an annoyed syllable.  "Yes.  God yes.  Of course I remember that cliquish bunch of holier-than-thou-"

"They need your help," Estelore quickly interrupted before Monica could go any further in her description.  "We need your help.  The world is ending, Monica.  They're willing to forgive you.  If you're willing to do the same for them."

"Me?" Monica scoffed.  "They're willing to forgive me?  Sounds like things haven't changed much.  Such is RAF."  She sighed again, wearily this time.  "But, look, I've moved past all that.  A long time ago.  Why are you . . . wait, what was that about the world ending?"

Estelore laughed a nervous laugh.  "It's a long story.  Certain things about, there's really no sane way to say this, the internet, seem to have come true.  And, well, one of those things is now trying to destroy the world."

" . . . Suppose I believed you," Monica said slowly, skeptical.  "I still don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"It is you," Estelore said simply.  "We, ah, created a sort of alternate version of you.  That's what's trying to destroy the world.  Already has, actually.  It only hasn't happened yet from this viewpoint in time."

"What?" Monica said, momentarily too bewildered to utter anything beyond that one simple word of disbelief.

"Time travel," Estelore sighed.  "It gets complicated."

Monica massaged her temples, taking a few angry breaths that hissed through her clenched teeth.  If, and it was a big 'if,' but if what Estelore was saying was true, then that horrible, elitist cult that was RAF, had gone and made a mockery of her.  Again.

"Sorry," she said harshly.  "But, I've moved on.  Tell them they need to do the same."

There was a click that could be heard from Estelore's end.  Monica had hung up.

Estelore frowned, as they glanced down at their Mark.  But they quickly came to the decision not to call Monica back.  At least not just yet.  They weren't giving up, of course.  No, not on something this critical.  But Monica needed some time, to come to terms with everything they'd said.  It was a lot to take in.  And, of course, Monica hadn't even thought about RAF in years.  Obviously that nerve might still be a little raw, at first.

But once she had the chance to realize what was at stake, she'd come around.  Estelore was sure of it.

It was only then, with the call ended, that Estelore noticed that the TARDIS was on the move.  They hadn't noticed the characteristic noise while they'd been talking to Monica.  And the gentle swaying back and forth had become commonplace enough that it was easy to miss.

Well, Aquilai had said they'd found Richard, hadn't he?  That must be what was happening.

Soon enough, the TARDIS had landed.  The RAFians seemed tense, on-edge, as Lumy cracked open the door.  As though they were expecting to spring into battle at a moment's notice.  Of course, after their experience with Goom, it was only natural that they would be ready for anything.

They got out of the TARDIS, in an alleyway next to a supermarket.  Several RAFians, hidden in the late evening shadows, were watching intently, as people came and went.  Obviously waiting for something.

Estelore barely had time to notice the white handkerchief that Jess was holding, before she had wrapped her arms around a very familiar-looking Caribbean man, and shoved the cloth over his nose and mouth.  He was unconscious within seconds.

"Chloroform?" Estelore asked incredulously, as several RAFians helped to haul their unconscious leader back into the TARDIS.  "You really think that was necessary?"  Aquilai, still at the helm, pressed a few buttons and twisted a few knobs to start the TARDIS back up again, clearly not wanting to stick around long enough for anybody to report a kidnapping.

"Of course it was necessary," Myitt said tersely as she bent down to press her ear to Richard's.  She held that pose for several moments, as the other RAFians waited anxiously.

"He's clean," Myitt said as she stood up again.  A last little hint of greenish grey could be seen slithering back into her own ear.  "Queen must not have been able to find him to infest him."

The chloroform they'd used had been a low dose, and so Richard was already starting to come back around.  He rubbed his ear, and suddenly his eyes widened, as he looked around at the bizarre 'room' he was in, and the crowd of strangers surrounding him.  He jumped to his feet, wobbling slightly from the lingering effects of the fumes.  But he regained his composure with all the speed that terror afforded him, gathering himself into a battle stance, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, it's okay," Seal said, as gently as she could.  As though talking to a frightened animal.  She stepped forward, holding out a Mark to Richard like it was a peace offering.  She figured that, as one of the youngest RAFians, she might also seem the least threatening.  "We're friends, I promise."

"What in the hell is going on?" Richard said, still rubbing his ear anxiously with one hand while he tentatively took the Mark with the other.  "Who are you people?  Where am I?"

"Best if we cut right to the chase, then," Shock commented.  "The world is ending.  We're all we've got, to stop it.  And, well, you're our leader."

"I'm what?" Richard wondered.  "Why am I important?"

A few RAFians glanced at each other, not quite sure how to answer that.  What was it, about Richard, that made him seem so crucial to the mission?  Why was he so important?

Oddly enough, it was Michael who answered.  He shrugged, and said, "When the whole world's an asylum, it's probably better to just let the lunatics decide what matters."  He reached over to put a comforting hand on Richard's shoulder.  A sign of solidarity.  A way to let Richard know that, yes, he'd been there too.  "Don't question it, man."

[redtailedsaffa]

Michael just about summed up RAF back there.

[Shenmue654]

Damn. I have no idea what's going on, but I suddenly want to come along too. RAFQuests. <3

[redtailedsaffa]

Read Enter RAF! DO IT. NOW. The PDF is there.

[Josh (J)]

Might I just say, Dino, that I'm reading this one right now, and:

It. Is. Epic.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Gah, I meant to post earlier and be all like "YAY I HAVE NEW READERS WARM FUZZIES YAY!" but I wanted to wait until I actually had a chapter to post, and then a day turned into a week and my muse still wasn't talking to me and anyway my point is I'm sorry Shenmue and J for leaving you hanging like that.  *hugs*

Also, apparently explaining that I have writer's block is the cure for writer's block! 

Chapter Thirty-four

The RAFians quickly brought Richard up to speed on everything that was going on.  He kept shaking his head disbelievingly, but every time he did, he would look around at where he was, and after that he'd just look puzzled.

Everything these people were saying was impossible, of course.  But then again, this was an impossible place, wasn't it?

So maybe, all told, 'impossible' wasn't quite as unlikely as it seemed.

With Richard begrudgingly on board, the RAFians moved on to discussing what to do next.  They all knew that they still needed to look for Cloak and the other rebel controllers in the future.  But, after several rounds of back-and-forth, it was decided instead to go to Switzerland, first.  To track down Bloodbane, Shade, Kyris and Becky.

The four of them would be hard to find, but, it was hoped, not so hard as Cloak would be.  With no real information about them to go off of, Aquilai would have no way to run a search on any of them.  But, what else could they do, besides show up in Switzerland, and start looking?

The TARDIS took off, from its position high in earth's orbit, towards Switzerland.  From the inside, of course, all they knew was its characteristic sound and motion as it moved.

The TARDIS didn't quite land, this time, though.  It stayed in the air, hovering above the Swiss countryside under the cover of night.  The RAFians cracked open the door, watching the pastoral landscape as it went by.  Looking for any signs of refugees out in the wilds, encampments isolated from civilization.  The four once-innerworlders, on the run from the outside world.

Michael, who had been standing apart from the spectacle, lost in his own thoughts, decided to take the opportunity to look for something to eat.  On his way across the TARDIS, he happened to shoulder past Rachel.  Just a brush.  For which he nonetheless quickly apologized.

"Watch it, old man," Rachel practically snarled, an unexpectedly angry reaction to what had only been a light touch.  But, of course, this wasn't the first time Michael had noticed the young girl's hostility towards him.  She seemed to always be looking at him with anger in her eyes.

Sometimes, though, it almost seemed like the anger was just a mask, hiding something else.  A deeper, more delicate emotion.  Sadness?  No, not quite.  Shame?  No.  Close, but still not it.

"Sorry," he said again.  He turned towards Rachel, with his hands out in an apologetic gesture.  "Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"

"No," Rachel hissed sharply.  "And, just for the record, don't act like you're my father or something.  Because you're not."

"What?" Michael wondered, completely bewildered by the girl's reaction.  Did he remind her of her father?  Was that it?  "Why would I?"

Now it was Rachel's turn to be confused.  She paused, taken aback by Michael's own puzzlement.  "You don't know?" she wondered, eyeing the man with a look of suspicion which quickly turned to one of irony.  "You really don't, do you?"  She barked a derisive laugh.  "Name's Rachel.  I'm an Animorph."

"Animorph?" Michael asked, as the pieces suddenly clicked into place.  The RAFians had explained to him that his and Katherine's book series, for which the working title in his own time was still 'Changelings,' would eventually come to be called 'Animorphs.'

"Yes, I was writing one called Rachel," Michael commented wonderingly.  He realized he was staring at her, and quickly looked up at the ceiling, averting his eyes from her harsh stare.  "You're really her?"

Rachel gave a curt nod, before rejoining the group that was watching out the door of the TARDIS.  It was obvious that she was ignoring Michael.

The TARDIS had now stopped, hovering in the air, above what seemed to be a campfire.  Probably just an ordinary group of campers.  But perhaps not.

Rachel looked on with a sort of eager anticipation.  Her features tensed, readying herself for action.  The familiar thrill of battle quickly pushed away whatever mess of complex emotions she'd felt towards Michael.

Michael looked almost longingly at her, unable to stop his mind from studying the strange enigma of a girl.  There was really nothing in her eyes that reminded Michael of himself, or of Katherine.

But, he thought, with a wistful twinge of pain, in some strange way, this only dimly familiar girl was their daughter.

"Look!" Myitt called out, distracting Michael from his thoughts.  He looked where she had pointed, spotting a hulking green-tinged figure at the edge of the campground.  "It's them!"

"HEY!" Cody called out as he waved excitedly to the orc, catching Bloodbane's attention, as well as the attention of a black-robed figure that Cody and Myitt recognized as Shade.

Shade immediately whipped out a wand, emphatically yelling the word "Stupefy!"  A bolt of red light fired upward from the ground, lighting up the night as it shot into the interior of the TARDIS.  The RAFians ducked out of the way, jumping to the sides to let the spell pass.  The red light collided with the control panel, sparks flying in jets from the machinery.

"NO!" Aquilai screamed, as the TARDIS suddenly shuddered and fell towards the ground.  There was a jarring lurch, several RAFians stumbling for balance, the floor tilting wildly under their feet, as the police box plowed into the dirt.

The damage from the crash itself was minimal, since the TARDIS had been only a few dozen feet above the ground in the first place.  But as they glanced at the sparking control panel, it was obvious they weren't going anywhere.

Shade strode into the TARDIS, holding his wand menacingly at the RAFians.

"Who are you?" Shade snarled, quickly moving to position himself protectively between the RAFians and the two girls who had appeared behind him in the commotion.  "Why are you here?"

Bloodbane rushed forward, carefully shouldering past the angry wizard, as he held his hands out to the RAFians in a gesture of peace.  "Forgive my friend," the orc said apologetically.  "The four of us have all had bad experiences with . . . outsiders.  But I must still ask the same questions.  Who are you?  Why are you here?"

"Sorry," Cody apologized, feeling a little embarrassed that he hadn't remembered that the four would see the RAFians as strangers.  "We know each other.  Or we did.  In another time.  We're called RAFians.  We know about the internet, and the fact that it's a real place.  The same thing that happened to you, happened to us, too."

To demonstrate, Shock nodded to Cody, and pressed the button on his Mark.  A dragon appeared where the human had stood, only to vanish again as he pressed the button a second time.

Bloodbane looked intrigued, as the RAFians held out four Marks to the four of them.  The orc strapped the device to his wrist, looking at it with a curiosity that bordered on reverence.

"Go ahead," Cody said softly.  "Press the button."

Where the hulking orc had stood, now a human appeared in his place.  The human smiled as he looked at his hands, holding his fingers up in front of his face.  He pressed the button again, shifting to orc for only a second or two before he eagerly shifted back to human again.

"It's just the 'generic' human form, I'm afraid," Aquilai explained.  "We were able to make human forms based on our own previous forms for the rest of us, but all we can do for you is give you this basic 'template' body."

"I don't even care," Bloodbane said gratefully, and several RAFians could have sworn they saw the light glinting off of a wetness in his eyes.  "I've wished to be human again every waking moment of these past months.  To be able to show my face in public, without screams and panic following me wherever I go."  He looked to Aquilai, then turned to give Shade a pointed look.

"Fine, fine," Shade said with a sigh.  "Reparo."  A soft light glowed from his wand, and the electric embers of the control panel died down as the machinery knitted itself slowly back together.

"Huh," Aquilai noted with relief, as he watched the repairs occur.  "Magic and technology do mix, after all."

Phoenix stifled a laugh.  "Time Lord technology.  It's not really that different."

"So," the smiling human Bloodbane asked the RAFians.  "What is it you need from us?"

[redtailedsaffa]

I'm standing in the lift and grinning like an idiot as I read this, and everyone's staring at me (not that they don't do that already) but I don't care - NEW CHAPTER WITH ALL THE FEELS AND ALL THE AWESOMENESS YAY!!

[DinosaurNothlit]

Chapter Thirty-five

It didn't take nearly as long to bring the four new recruits up to speed, as it had for Michael, Rose, and Richard.  Although not technically RAFians, they'd all been inside the internet before.  They were no strangers to strangeness.

So they were able to move on quickly from Switzerland, onto their next destination.  Rose and Michael's unconventional 'jet lag' was catching up to them, and they had both found a quiet corner of the TARDIS to fall asleep.

Dino had told the others everything she knew about the rebel Yeerks.  Which, unfortunately, wasn't much.  Location-wise, all she knew was that their attacks tended to center around or near the Yeerkish stronghold of New York, so it was decided they would start there.

Dino still seemed a little shaken, as she brought the others up to speed.  It was obvious she didn't enjoy talking about Carger, or anything to do with him, which was of course where she had learned this information.

"They have a particular signal that they use to recognize one another," Dino said.  She was talking mainly to Myitt, who they had all decided was probably the best candidate for this mission, being a controller herself.  "They show just a little bit of their Yeerk body out of their right ear.  Then, they have a series of code phrases that both controllers go through, to make sure that they can both trust each other."

"But, if, uh, if Carger knew this, then doesn't that mean Queen does too?" Myitt questioned.  "Doesn't that imply that this information has already been compromised?"

"Not necessarily," Dino noted, shifting uncomfortably.  "Queen only trusted any of this to her highest-ranking and most loyal advisors.  She was afraid that if too much information concerning the rebel Yeerks got out to the rest of the Yeerk population, it would encourage more Yeerks to join the other side.  So she kept it all very hush-hush, as much as she could.  Just, uh, yanno, try to avoid any particularly arrogant-looking controllers when you're doing this.  Anybody who looks like they might be in a position of particular power.  That's probably going to be a bad guy."

Myitt nodded her agreement, as she wrapped a scarf around her wrist, covering her Mark.  She worried that the scarf itself would attract attention, but she didn't have much choice.  It was either that, or let herself be caught.

With a hesitant backward glance at the other RAFians, Myitt stepped tentatively out of the TARDIS.  Out of the corner of her eye, where she should have seen blue, she instead saw a rusty tarnished grey color.

"Aquilai?" she wondered, eyeing what now appeared to be a dilapidated car.  "Are you telling me that your TARDIS's chameleon circuit has been working this whole time?"

Aquilai grinned.  "Of course not.  I didn't tell you anything."  His look was one of obvious amusement as he rolled his eyes.  "Come, now.  I am not actually the Doctor, you know.  Do you really think two different TARDISes would have malfunctioning chameleon circuits that both just happened to get stuck on the same blue police box?  Nah.  I just keep it that way, because I like the way it looks.  It's a classic look, you know."

Myitt laughed nervously, rolling her eyes as she walked away, deeper into the city.

This place wasn't abandoned, the way future-Dallas had been.  In fact, New York still seemed to be a mecca.  The buildings were dark, like obsidian.  The polished black glass was built in harsh angular shapes that caught the reddish light of the sky, like blood dripping down a knife's edge.

Between the buildings, marched legions of controllers.  Hork-bajir, humans, Taxxons, even Gedds.  The feel of hustle and bustle in the Big Apple, at least, had stayed the same.

Myitt felt a shiver of fear as she cautiously fell into line with the militaristic crowd.  Remembering all too well what had happened last time.  But, being a true human in form, none of the controllers gave her a second glance.

She looked over her shoulder.  She was no longer able to see the TARDIS, but she managed to catch a glimpse of a wisp of mist weaving between the ranks of controllers.  Gaz, in her vapor form.  The only RAFian that could reliably act as Myitt's backup, without the chance of being caught.

The other RAFians were not about to send Myitt into this place on her own.  That, at least, was a comfort.

Myitt took a deep breath, heading into an alleyway between buildings.  Somewhere, she had a hunch, that Yeerkish rebels might be hiding.

Or murderers, she thought morbidly.  Nonetheless, she began to release her hold on parts of Tara's brain, edging her Yeerk body towards Tara's right ear.  Just enough to show a bit of grey to anybody looking for it.  Not enough to be obvious to anybody who wasn't.

Myitt had been edging her way through various alleyways and back streets for about an hour or so, when a passing human finally glanced inquisitively at Myitt's ear.

"I just needed to feel the air," Myitt explained cautiously.  The beginning of the code phrase exchange.

"The air is stronger, underground," the other controller replied with a guarded smile.

" . . . In the home of the ancient sun," Myitt finished, completing the exchange.  The other man nodded, seemingly satisfied.  There had seemed to be a beat of hesitation just before his nod, but Myitt was sure she had only imagined it.  Nervousness.  That's all it was.  Her skittish mind was making her imagine anything and everything that could go wrong.

Still, the hair on the back of Myitt's neck was standing on end, as the man beckoned for her to follow him.  He led the way deeper into the alley, where the shadows deepened until Myitt's eyes could barely pierce the gloom.

Suddenly, two Hork-bajir jumped out of the shadows, grabbing Myitt's arms.  She struggled, but was too afraid to scream, for fear of attracting the attention of anyone who might hear her.  No, there would be no friendly faces to come to her rescue, not in this place.

As she realized the hopelessness of the situation, her muscles went slack, her body drooping between the two Hork-bajir holding her up.  One of them held a blade to her throat, forcing her to hold her head up just to keep her neck above the sharpened edge.  The man looked down at Myitt, scowling in wary distain.

"Honestly.  Did you think we never change our code words?"

[redtailedsaffa]

Oops.

Gaz to the rescue!

And thanks for the update!

[DinosaurNothlit]

Lol, didn't expect to see a reply so quick!  I've actually got two chapters for ya. 

Chapter Thirty-six

Richard paced anxiously back and forth across the TARDIS.  He kept telling himself that this was all just a dream.  There wasn't much else it could be, was there?  He was in the future, for crying out loud.  Waiting idly for a stranger to spy out an alien resistance movement.  Oh, yeah, this had to be a dream.

Yet, the floor felt incredibly solid under his feet.  He wasn't watching himself from outside his own body, as was so often the case in dreams.  He was seeing all this through his own eyes, impossible though it all was.  Every detail exactly as it seemed to be, nothing changing when he lost his focus and forgot what something should look like.

He told himself that it didn't matter.  Maybe dreams blurred and distorted only after they were over, and felt exactly this real while they were happening.

The fact was that this had to be a dream.  Because that single fact, was all that was keeping him from losing it.

How could these people be looking to him for answers?  People he didn't even know.  Heck, hardly even 'people' at all.  Dragons and dinosaurs and aliens and good god if this was a dream then he must be losing his mind because sane people don't even have dreams like this.

He took a deep breath, reminding himself that, dream or not, he still had to step up and be the leader that they expected him to be.  Dream or not, pain was still pain.  Sadness and loss could still twist your heart and cut your soul.  So, in the end, did it really matter if any of it was real or not?

Richard felt a presence behind him, and turned to see Bloodbane's human form.  He was recognizable only by the sheer blandness of his features, a generic face, nothing particularly characteristic about him at all.

Yet, even within that blank face, a certain charisma managed to shine through in Bloodbane's particular expression.  He had a way of smiling, that tended to put everyone around him at ease.  And when he spoke, there was a gentle power to his words that made people want to listen.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" Bloodbane commented.  "I know.  I've been there, too.  When all this first started, I think I was in shock for about a week.  Thought it was a dream, thought I was losing my mind."

Richard sighed, a nervous exhalation.  "How did you ever come to terms with it?  How did you ever move past thinking it was crazy?"

"Having friends who were going through the same thing, that helped a lot," Bloodbane said, casting an affectionate glance at Kyris, Becky and Shade.  Becky gave Bloodbane a little wave, acknowledging his glance.

Richard looked longingly at Michael and Rose, asleep in a darkened corner of the TARDIS, away from the conversation.  He had talked to both of them, briefly.  He was sorry that their sleep schedules were so far off, that they couldn't have talked longer.

Michael, at least, had seemed to Richard to be as disbelieving of the whole situation as Richard himself was.  The traumatized author was only able to put on his casually aloof act because, deep down, he thought he could still wake up from it all.

Rose, on the other hand, was amazed at everything that was going on around her.  It wasn't a confusing nightmare for her at all.  It was a wondrous dream.

"You should talk to some of the other RAFians," Bloodbane said, seeing the direction of Richard's glance.  Understanding that he wanted to be closest to those who had reason to feel as lost as he felt, but knowing that wasn't what he needed.  "I know they seem strange.  But they were close to you, as close as I am to my friends, as close as they are to each other.  Albeit, yes, that was in another reality.  That bond, though . . . it must mean something, even now.  Something about you, resonates with something that exists within them.  A bond like that, doesn't exist for no reason."

Richard sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.  "They're placing their trust in me," he said, glad to have someone in whom to confide his concerns.  "People I don't even know, expecting me to make life or death decisions for them.  That's a lot to suddenly land on my shoulders."

Bloodbane nodded, a gesture that somehow seemed to communicate a deep wisdom beyond his unremarkable features.  "It is.  I know.  But you'll find, your shoulders can take the weight.  If they trust their lives to you, it is because they know that you are capable of upholding that trust.  Believe in yourself as they believe in you."

Richard thought for a second, then laughed.  "Oh, man, that was cheesy," he managed to say, between bursts of laughter.  "'Believe in yourself as they believe in you'?  You sounded like a line from an after-school special, just now."

Bloodbane laughed along.  "Hah, I did, didn't I?"

Phoenix, who had been idly listening in, joined in with his own nervous laughter.  It was good to have a distraction from his own worried thoughts about how Myitt might be doing, out there in the apocalyptic city.  He was in his human form, not wanting to expose Richard to any more weirdness than was necessary.

"Bloodbane's right, though," Phoenix commented.  "You're still the same person you were, the same person who we all trust to lead us.  We know it's a lot of pressure, and I'm sorry it had to land on your shoulders.  I wish we didn't need to drag you into all of this.  I know what it was like, thinking you're going crazy while the world crumbles around you.  But, the fact is, we do need you."

Richard nodded.  "It's just a lot to take in.  It'd be a lot, even without the responsibility.  I mean, the internet is real?  Everything within my computer is actual and true, and there's a machine from another dimension that made it all possible?  It feels like a plot I couldn't even take seriously in a sci-fi movie."

Phoenix smiled knowingly.  Yeah, he'd been there.  There were still days, even now, when he wondered if it was really real.  "Did you ever get that feeling, that you were destined for something more, something greater, than whatever your life threw at you?" Phoenix asked, already knowing the answer.

" . . . Yeah," Richard admitted.  "Doesn't everybody?"

"Yeah, well, when most people get that feeling, they turn out to be wrong," Phoenix said, with a gentle smirk.  "But in our case, we weren't."

[redtailedsaffa]

*dramatic background score begins playing after Phoenix's last line*

[DinosaurNothlit]

Finally remembered that sleep deprivation fuels my muse.  Hello caffeine, my old friend!

Chapter Thirty-seven

"Look, this is just a misunderstanding," Myitt pleaded to her captors, but her words fell on deaf ears.  She was walking forward, taking unwilling steps just to keep up with the Hork-bajir pulling her arms.  She trudged along on ankles that were sore from being dragged across the ground.

"You can tell it to Rad," the man shot back disdainfully, breaking his usual silence for a moment, as they passed through another dark and abandoned alleyway.

Myitt immediately perked up at the familiarity of the name.  "Rad?" she echoed.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know who Rad is," the man scoffed, but guardedly, as though afraid of being overheard.  "I'm sure you already know all about our command structure, Imperial.  And if you don't, well, I'm certainly not giving you anything."

"Please, just take off the scarf on my wrist," Myitt begged, changing tack.  "I'm on your side, I swear it.  I hate Queen as much as you.  Take off the scarf, you'll see."  Even now, she didn't want to simply say out loud that she was a RAFian.  A voice in the back of her head still warned not to give up her identity by speaking even that one word.  Certainly not here, where any enemy controller who got too close might hear.

"Do you think me an idiot?" the man sneered, glancing at her wrist.  "You obviously have a distress beacon that will activate, and give away your position."  He turned to the Hork-bajir on Myitt's right.  "Don't let her touch that scarf, you understand?"

Myitt gritted her teeth, as the Hork-bajir tightened his grip on her Marked arm.  "Just believe me!  We're on the same side, damn it!"

But, no matter what she said, it was clear that nothing would convince her captors of her true allegiance.  She growled and raged and pleaded and begged, and finally went silent.

All the while, she wondered desperately where Gaz had gone.  Had something happened to her?  Had the vampire lost Myitt's trail somehow?  Every now and then, Myitt thought she could see a wisp of mist, or a flutter of bat's wings.

But, more likely, that was just in her imagination, her desperate mind still clinging to a hope that had long-since abandoned her.

Or maybe . . . as Myitt was dragged across a crowded street, right out in the open, where dozens of other controllers could see her . . . a different thought entered her mind.  Perhaps Gaz was intentionally holding back.  Knowing that she couldn't fight this many Yeerks, and afraid of the attention that a struggle would inevitably attract.  Waiting, perhaps, for the opportune moment.

Hope.  It could be such a cruel comfort.

"Hah hah," a human-controller within the crowd jeered at Myitt, as he passed by her captors.  "Another traitor for our Almighty Queen to play with?  Good work."  He nodded appreciatively to the two Hork-bajir holding Myitt's arms, before glaring again at their prisoner.  "Filthy rebel scum."

. . . What?

Myitt gritted her teeth, using her ever-present frustration as a mask to hide the smile that suddenly threatened to show through her features.  Heh.  Misunderstandings on top of misunderstandings.  But she could use that.  A new development was always a good thing, because you never knew what could change the game.  Her mind spun with thoughts of how to exploit this latest twist.

"Let me go!" she yelled, pleading to the human-controller in the crowd.  "I'm loyal to Queen!  I swear it!"

The two Hork-bajir holding her arms quickened their pace, jerking Myitt rudely as they dragged her away from the bustling street and into another alley.  The Imperial human-controller from the crowd gave Myitt one last inquisitive look, before barking a cruel laugh and turning away.

"What are you playing at?" the rebel leader human-controller asked, as soon as they had a measure of privacy again, away from the other controllers.  He sneered smugly.  "Finally showing your true colors, Imperial?"

"Helping you," Myitt grated, annoyed.  "You idiot, wasn't it obvious that I was acting to lend credence to your ruse back there?  If I were really loyal to Queen, don't you suppose I would have pointed you out as rebels yourselves?"

"Not if you're a coward," one of the Hork-bajir laughed.

"All it proves is that you were willing to ask Queen's supporters for help," the human noted.  "Doesn't really help your case, does it?"

Myitt gave a sharp cry of utter frustration.  How many different ways did she have to say it, for these controllers to get it?  And, after all this, did they really even want these rebel Yeerks on their side, if they were all as stupid as these three?

By the time they made it to the backdoor of a decrepit building that might once have been a hotel, Myitt felt broken, in body and spirit.  She had done everything she could, to fight this.  There was little left, except to await whatever fate held in store for her.

The Hork-bajir hauled her down a concealed flight of stairs, to an underground level that was obviously much newer than the rest of the hotel.  The hallway was concrete, with steel doors indented into the walls.  Like a prison.

"We're here to see the Mayor," one of the Hork-bajir said, speaking through a tiny slit in one of the doors.

"What do you have there?" a voice asked from the other side.

"One of Queen's spies," the Hork-bajir said, gripping Myitt by the arm and holding her up, where she could be seen through the slit.

The person on the other side coughed unexpectedly, as a wisp of cold mist suddenly enveloped his face through the slit in the door, taking him by surprise.  "Yes, excellent," he said, shaking his head to clear the vapor.

Strange, he thought, that there would be such a sudden rush of condensation.  But, humidity was always a problem underground.  He was sure it was nothing to worry about.

That was his last thought.  He barely had time to register the sudden impact to the back of his head, as his mind quickly faded to black and the ground rushed up at him.

"You alright?" a familiar voice came from the other side of the door, and Myitt looked up, hope glinting in her eyes.

The door swung open, revealing Gaz, flaunting a sideways smile that revealed one fang.  As she stepped out into the concrete hallway, she held up her wrist, where her own Mark could quite clearly be seen.  "We are RAFians," she proclaimed triumphantly to Myitt's three captors.  "We are not Queen's spies."

[redtailedsaffa]

New chapter - yay! Made my otherwise boring day.

[DinosaurNothlit]

I'm finally writing again!    I will finish this story eventually dang it!

. . . Was I in part inspired to write so I could maybe get nominated for the upcoming RAFawards?  Maaaaaybe.  >.>

Am I going to let a little thing like ulterior motives stop me from going ahead and doing it anyway?  Probably not. 

Chapter Thirty-eight

The reversal was so immediate that it was shocking.  The three rebel controllers instantly transformed from arrogant to apologetic.  As if someone had flipped a switch.  They now stood back, at a respectful distance from the two RAFians, in fearful awe.  One of the Hork-bajir fell to his knees, while the human's downturned face turned a bright shade of red.

"Forgive us," he said to Myitt.  Myitt, meanwhile, was unwrapping the scarf from her wrist with sharp angry motions, her face a twisted mask of disgust and distain as she at last revealed the Mark that proved her allegiance.  "We sought only to protect ourselves and our organization from Queen's infiltration.  We wanted nothing more than to protect our friends from our enemies."  He looked pleadingly from Myitt to Gaz and back again.  "Surely, RAFians, of all people, can understand that?"

Myitt looked thoughtful, but her eyebrows remained furrowed with heavy suspicion.  She could nearly hear the dishonesty in his voice.  Yes, this controller would say anything to please those who held power over him.  It was a wonder he had ever found the courage to rebel against Queen.  "Take us to the one you called Rad," Myitt said simply, her tone making it clear that she didn't want to speak to this man any longer than necessary.

They still didn't know whether this 'Rad' was actually the RAFian Rad, since it was obviously a codename and what was the chance that she would pick the same name for herself in two separate timelines?  But then again, there was the moment when the Hork-bajir had referred to a 'Mayor' and hadn't Rad always called herself that, too?

Two different codenames for the same person, one a specific name without being too specific, and the other a vague title that could easily be concealed within an innocent-sounding sentence.  Whoever this person was, Myitt thought approvingly, they knew what they were doing.

Gaz spoke into her Mark as they walked down the hallway, updating the other RAFians on the situation.  "Understood," Phoenix said softly, once Gaz had briefed him.  "Glad you're alright.  But be careful.  This still feels like a trap."

Gaz nodded, but she hadn't really needed to be told.  She herself go just insubstantial enough to be ready to dissolve into mist at a moment's notice, yet still keeping the general shape of her body.  Which had the disturbing effect of making her look even paler than usual.  The grey concrete behind her showed ever so slightly through her body, lending her already deathly pallor the color of a ghostly corpse.

Myitt instinctively reached for her Dracon, starting slightly when her hand grasped empty air.  She glowered, and one of the Hork-bajir abashedly handed her the weapon that he had confiscated earlier.

They reached the end of the hallway, where there was a double door decorated with an official-looking filigree.  The engraved doors swung slowly open, to reveal a regal room of dark bronze-colored marble that glinted in the dim light like veins of gold running through onyx.

At a desk of a different shade of marble, the hard-edged structure accentuated by glistening jagged swirls of jade and black within the stone, sat a figure that Gaz and Myitt recognized immediately.  They both stared, scrutinizing Rad's face for any sign that she was still in there, somewhere.  But, of course, that was futile, wasn't it?  As they ought to know, there wouldn't be any way to tell, one way or the other.

Rad made a shooing gesture at the two Hork-bajir and the human-controller who had escorted the RAFians in, as though they were pesky animals that she wanted out of her sight before they could make a mess.  Myitt looked down, hiding her satisfied smile.  Satisfied, that Rad held the same opinion of those three that she did.

As the other controllers scurried out of the room, Rad folded her hands together, steepling her fingers over her desk, obviously intrigued by her guests.  "We have been trying to find you for a long time, you know," she began.  "But, of course, it is not possible to track down anything that can travel through time.  Not without owning a time machine yourself.  So we had little choice but to wait for you to come to us."  She bared her teeth in a crooked sly grin which removed any doubt in the RAFians' minds that she was a controller.  "But now you're here.  We have a lot to talk about."

"So let's talk," Myitt said distrustfully, her hand still on her Dracon.  Still not quite believing that this could be anything except a trap.  "Starting with your real name."

Myitt briefly wondered if she would simply give Rad's real name, but of course the Yeerk knew better than that.  "Odret 177," she said.  "Former supporter of Visser One.  Before she was deleted from history of course.  I never did feel favorably towards incompetent overlords."  Myitt and Gaz looked at each other, and nodded.  They knew, of course, which other incompetent overlord she referred to.  And now that they thought of it, Visser Three did have a lot in common with Queen.

"But that's water under the bridge, as you humans say," Odret said dismissively, with a causal wave of her hand.  "Point is, strange as it seems, circumstances have placed me on the same side as you.  And I believe I can help you, as you can help me."  She leaned closer, speaking in a lowered voice, as if confiding a dangerous secret.  Which, of course, she was.  "We know where Queen's base of operations is.  And we know a little bit about what's inside.  Security is much too tight for us to actually infiltrate her fortress, of course.  However, we believe, with the rather unique set of skills that you RAFians possess, it may just be possible."

Myitt and Gaz listened raptly, as Odret quickly told them everything she knew.  Myitt held down the small white button on her Mark as Odret spoke, so that the other RAFians aboard the TARDIS could hear, as well.

"Excellent," Gaz said, nodding, as Odret finished.  Myitt took her finger off the button.  "Yes.  I think we might be able to help."

Odret, looking satisfied at this, pushed her chair back and walked around her desk to join Gaz and Myitt.  Both RAFians stiffened, still not quite fully trusting the controller that had once been their friend.  They relaxed only slightly when they realized that a trap, here, made no sense.  If Odret wanted them, she already had them.  But even knowing that, it was hard to tamp down those fight or flight instincts that had kept them alive so many times.

Odret ignored their reactions, either not noticing their anxiety or simply not caring.  "Then, come," she said, beckoning them on with a sly smirk.  "It's time you met our fearless leader."