Title : Predators
Author: YS McCool
Rating: PG-13
Date : 10 March 2000
Series: Upgrade # 30

Summary: Members of the military are brought to justice. Payback is a Bitch.

Warnings: AU, violence, language.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Sentinel characters, nor do I make a claim on them. Established characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. Original characters are the sole property of the author.

Upgrade # 30

Predators

By YS McCool

Daryl was not going to pick up something heavy and beat his patient with it. He wasn't. He loved his cousin dearly, therefore, he wasn't going to hit him. Not even just a series of light slaps.

"Come on, Daryl. Just place a regeneration unit on my knee, give me two boosters, and let me get out of this bed," Blair said impatiently. "I can't be lying around here like some dotty old man."

If Jet were here, Blair would be giving her the large eyes look and sucking up the spoiling, but with just Jim to cater to him for the moment, Sandburg wanted to get back on his feet. Part of this was to keep Jim from feeling guilty because Blair had worsened his injury by defending his sentinel. Part of it was an outdated sense of machismo Daryl could have sworn Blair was above.

"Are you listening to me, Daryl? I need to get out of this bed," the other man whined.

Sandburg was entirely too old, in Daryl's book, to be pouting like that. Where was the man's dignity? Here he lay in this enormous bed draped in pleasure silk displayed in the middle of an elegant master bedroom suite, which itself was sitting in probably one of the most beautiful private homes in existence, and the man was pouting.

Okay, maybe just a few blows to the head. No, no, this was the wrong tactic. Daryl went for the older man's jugular.

"Blair, this is important. Your answer will affect the way I treat patients my entire career. It will also determine the way I train my students when it's my turn to pass on my knowledge." Daryl turned his medical datapad toward his cousin and patient. "I have a patient in his thirties--"

"Very early thirties," Blair added quickly. Why a man who still looked twenty-two worried about being tagged as being over thirty was a mystery to Daryl.

"--who has damaged his knee quite severely," Daryl continued. "Despite there being no immediate danger, this patient is insisting on battlefield tactics being used in his medical treatment. According to my study of the medical journals, this will result in stiffness and pain in the patient's later years because of uneven surfacing in his cartilage. Years during which I hope to talk him into sitting with my grandchildren and teaching them healing. Should I ignore proper medical procedure because the man is impatient, or should I do what's best for him?" Daryl plastered his most innocent and attentive look on his face.

Sandburg scowled, then his lip curled up into a tiny smile. "Oh, you're good." He flopped back onto his pillows. "Just leave me to lie here like an old man while my knee heals *naturally*."

Daryl slipped out of the room. A job well done, indeed.

"How's he doing?" Jim asked anxiously.

Banks didn't grin because he knew he would be no better if it were Byron lying in the other room. "I won't have to kill him after all," Daryl reported.

Jim smiled. "How did you get him to behave?"

"I reminded him that he was teaching me to handle patients and showing me where to place my priorities. He got the message." Daryl gave the older man his most superior look.

Jim gave the taller man a fond squeeze to the shoulder. "Good work. Now I need you to come with me to interview a military toad."

"You know the law doesn't allow--"

"Daryl, Daryl, I tell you three times--you are on Orion now, and those Earth laws do not apply here. You can do anything I, the Minister of Justice, tell you to do as Grand Inquisitor."

Daryl snorted. "Grand Inquisitor?"

Ellison grinned. "I made it up. Doesn't it sound ominous?"

Daryl tried to dampen the enthusiasm of his sentinel's father. "Jim, the man might soil his underwear if you tell him I'm the Grand Inquisitor. Some people hate the fact that I even *exist*."

"I know." Jim hugged Daryl tightly. "That's the beauty of it, my man. He knows who you are. He knows what you can do. He knows the only thing keeping his beady brain intact is your restraint. He'll tell us everything he knows without you having to so much as buzz his little head." Jim chuckled wickedly. "Paranoia is our friend, Daryl."

"And if he's made of sterner stuff?" Daryl asked seriously.

"Fry his mind like an egg," Ellison said bluntly.

"Jim!" Banks turned to face his friend. "Look, Man, I want these idiots as badly as you do, but I can't jeopardize my Academy training by pulling some Ultra-brain crap."

"Daryl, I could scare you by telling you that there are some very powerful people in the military who would *love* it if you displayed that kind of intimidation ability. Nothing frightens them more than having your kind of power in a pacifist's hands."

The psychic stopped dead in his tracks because Jim was sincere. "What?"

"Daryl, hard truth time. If you were a monster, they would know how far you would go. They like knowing your limits. But you are a kind and loving man, Daryl. They have no experience with that kind of thing. They like kind and loving people to know their place is under the boot, eh, protective wing of the military."

Banks took a deep breath. "I'll keep that in mind."

. . . .

Major General Wesley Maddox waited calmly for them at the Orion Central Government complex. Just three weeks earlier, the entire complex was in crates in the belly of a transport ship, now it was a gleaming building that looked like it had been on its site in pristine condition for centuries. Workers had moved on to the dormitories, which would house the first colonists whose permanent homes had not been constructed. The dormitories for the workers had been completed before work on the OCG complex had been begun.

Daryl was still in awe of the process, which would turn this rocky area, chosen because food would not grow on it, into a city.

To the south and west, large farms had already been measured out for their future owners. In ten years, it would be much cheaper for colonists to arrive on the planet, and they would start their new lives owing a lot less money to the government than the first colonists. As a trade-off for being the first to arrive, the early colonists would take on the larger debt in exchange for the best land.

Daryl had arrived on Orion V for free, so he was able to put all his money directly into land. Before they had left for their ill-fated training exercise, Banks had turned his inheritance from his mother into 9000 hectares of virgin land, more than half of it heavily forested. On Earth, that same large sum would have only purchased a large house on 2 hectares. Orion V was definitely the better buy. He and Byron would be able to raise and support several generations of their families on such a large tract.

General Maddox mentally puffed himself up when he saw Jim. He did not recognize Daryl. Banks scanned the man quickly, disabling his psi-blocking device quite easily. Maddox snatched the device from his head as it overheated.

"Those are illegal here," Daryl explained to the enraged general. Actually Banks had no idea whether or not they were illegal, he just wanted them to be. The devices caused pain in the psi-talented, whether or not they were actively scanning the owner. Undirected *protection* equaled an attack in Daryl's book.

Now Maddox knew who he was. So far, his underwear was still clean and dry.

Jim gave Daryl a quick smile before turning toward the military man. "Welcome to Orion V, General Maddox. I am the Minister of Justice, James Ellison, and this is our Grand Inquisitor. Please step into my office."

It was a close call for Maddox's underwear at that moment, but the General hung onto his control... for the moment.

Jim's office was a large space dripping with power and wealth--as evidenced by the wood. Lots of wood. Wood floor, wooden desk, wooden bookcases with leaded glass doors, wooden wainscoting accenting silk wallpaper, and wooden shutters on the large windows.

Maddox was dripping with envy. If he had known that the desk was over five hundred years old, he probably would have fainted.

"Please have a seat," Ellison said cordially. He took his seat in the reproduction antique chair while pointing toward the matching low back version meant for visitors.

"Minister Ellison, I wish to extend the profound apologies of the Human Sphere for the unfortunate incident which cost the life of one of your citizens," Maddox stated. It had the sound of a well-rehearsed statement and was none too sincere. Daryl was feeling more and more easy about scanning this man.

"Citizen? Maddox, he was a five-year-old. A child. The fact the child had fur does not lessen the senselessness of Running Joy's death."

"Running Joy?" Maddox asked uneasily. "What a beautiful name and so unusual for a warrior."

"Running Joy had aspirations of becoming a diplomat, General Maddox," Ellison replied coldly. "Imagine that if you can, General, he wanted to act as a bridge between Humans and Guardians."

Daryl leaned closer to the military man. "He probably tried to reason with the creature. Ironic, isn't it? If he had reacted like an animal and fled, he would have lived. Instead he tried higher reasoning and died."

Banks placed an image of Running Joy in the general's mind. The Guardian had been an exceptionally handsome lad with long brown fur and expressive green eyes. Daryl remembered Joy vividly from the time he had stayed with the Bailey family before migrating to Orion V.

"He loved soccer, ice cream cones, epic tales, and having his fur brushed," Daryl remembered mentally for the general. "He was very patient with children, even the ones who wanted to ride him or get him to pull their wagons. He didn't deserve to die, General, for being a kind and gentle soul." The psychic leaned over the older man. "I want the people responsible, and I want them now."

"*We* want them," Minister Ellison emphasized. "Now what can you tell us?"

"The creature was scheduled for destruction but was accidentally released instead. It killed several soldiers before escaping in a small fighter. Until you contacted us, we had lost it totally." He leaned earnestly toward Ellison. "I hope you understand the sensitive nature of the information I've given you."

Daryl regarded the sweating general and skimmed off his surface thoughts.

~I can't believe they left me to swing in front of these two abominations of nature. God, am I going to get off this planet alive?~

Banks dug deeper and got the whole story and withdrew without leaving a trace. His instructors would have been proud and appalled but probably more proud.

"Grand Inquisitor, your verdict?" Ellison asked officially. ~He's lying, Daryl. *I* can tell he's lying, and I've got a head like a brick for anyone but Claudia and Blair.~

Daryl wished he wasn't wearing simple black coveralls and a white t-shirt. A title like Grand Inquisitor required flowing black robes with a hint of a red silk lining. Perhaps a cowl from which his brown eyes would shine out with a glow of their own. As he concentrated on that image, both Jim and the General reacted with widely varied amounts of fear. Jim was slightly nervous, and General Maddox was sweating bullets.

"Minister Ellison, I'm afraid I have to report that the general has not exactly been truthful with you." Daryl was going to continue, but the general jumped up like his chair was on fire.

"Look, that's the official word. The fact I don't believe it doesn't mean I'm lying." Maddox moved closer to Jim, which, unfortunately for him, took him further from the door.

"Why don't you share your theory with us, General?" Jim suggested. "Off the record."

Maddox wiped the sweat from his upper lip, and hesitantly took his seat. "Okay," he said as he cast a wary eye toward Daryl. "I've got no proof of all this," he began.

"We understand that," Jim said sympathetically.

"They had three ways to kill that thing right where it was stored WITHOUT moving it to another location on the base. But they did move it, and that's when it *escaped*."

"Do you have the name of the person who authorized the transfer?" Ellison inquired while leaning over his carefully folded hands.

"That's classified, Minister Ellison," Maddox responded like the good little soldier he was.

~Got it,~ Daryl reported to Jim when he snagged the name, Lieutenant General Monica Strand, and the fact her husband, Doctor Philip Strand, was part of the original design team. Monica Strand scared Maddox, scared him spit-less.

"We understand," Jim said. "Go on with the story."

"The availability of the ship was just too convenient for it to have been a coincidence. I'd say they would have gotten away with the snatch cleanly, with minimal damage and loss of life, if the Marine group hadn't arrived unexpectedly. The Marines comprised all of the deaths and most of the injuries." Maddox looked back and forth between Banks and Ellison. "It's all I know."

"Why weren't any of the scientific people killed?" Jim asked. "They should have been on the front line when that thing escaped."

It was a legitimate question. Daryl could only think of two configurations which would have sealed them off from the creature.

"They were in full biological containment mode--three layers between them and the contaminant," the general reported.

That was one of the configurations. They had planned it carefully, and if the Marines hadn't arrived when they did, they might have arrived on Orion in time for a pick up before the creature had been spotted.

"Did that thing have the intelligence to pilot the fighter?" Daryl asked.

"No, the fighter would have been preprogrammed to make the flight--" the general stopped when he realized what he had said. Someone had deliberately sent that thing to Orion.

======================

Blair was in spoiling wars heaven. Simon had waded into the fray with recognized spoiling giants Naomi, Claudia, and Jet and held his own. Simon had carried Blair into the living room, propped up his leg, presented him with two new books, baked him the "super-secret, speak of it and I must kill you" triple sin-o-luscious Lamb Simons (thin lamb slices layered with mushrooms and herb stuffing and wrapped in a pastry shell), and parted with a half-bottle of his special Pinot Noir to wash it down.

Sandburg knew the depths for which his love of Jet went when he offered up half his treasure without a second thought. Jim had been shooed away with vile threats of permanent physical harm.

It wasn't that he didn't love Jim, but the man had no restraint when it came to his stomach. Ellison would have eaten it all, licked the baking dish clean, and held Simon hostage for more.

With such spoiling going on, Blair hardly noticed his four days of forced inactivity. Well, inactive for him. He spent the time going over the colonists' medical records, reviewing the colony's quarantine policy, and reading various requests from groups about moving parts of their organization to Orion V.

Some of the requests were no-brainers. His much-adored sister-in-law, Blaze Preston, was a Death Maiden, so denying them permission to start a House on Orion would get him in deep trouble. Besides, as part of their taxes, he could request service from the Death Maid House instead of money.

The Freedom of Information group wanted to set up on Orion? Never! Blair held the group and their jailed leader Marion Foster responsible for the panic and riots at Earth One. Those idiots weren't about to start their nonsense on his new home. Though his one vote couldn't turn the FOI away, Sandburg doubted Daryl's kith and kin had forgotten the danger the young man had been in because of the FOI.

RO wanted to build their first academy in the sector here. Considering their other choices were the strictly corporate worlds of Texas, Saigon, and Berlin, Orion was their only hope.

Blair smiled. Jim, Simon, Jet, and Maxine would have a fit if he put them on the waiting list. He moved RO up on the stack of approvals for confirmation from the council.

There wasn't much for him to do in the house or in the gardens. His staff of six kept the house clean, the grounds tended, and the gardens producing. Arriving colonists would raise food crops, chickens, and fish on Sandburg's farms. Orion V would be self-sufficient fairly quickly.

A warm, soft bundle landed with quiet authority on Blair's stomach. "Sebastian! You old fraud, how are you doing?" The dark brown cat arched and purred as he bumped against his human. Sandburg hugged his cat firmly. "Did you take good care of Hawthorne on the trip?" Sebastian bumped the underside of Blair's chin twice, then curled up in his human's lap.

"It's good to see you, Sir," Hawthorne said as he placed a glass of juice in Blair's hands.

"And it's wonderful to see you, Hawthorne. How are things back on Earth?" Blair asked as he indicated a chair for his butler to make himself comfortable in.

"There was a bit of an incident, Sir. It seems some of our juvenile Guardian guests enjoyed Sebastian's company so much, they refused to leave him secured in the house," the butler stated delicately. "Sebastian's been getting out for quite a while."

"Oh dear," Blair moaned. Obviously his cat had not been harmed. There was little traffic in the neighborhood, everyone knew where he belonged, and even though Sebastian had made it out of the house, he couldn't have made it out of the neighborhood because it was completely surrounded by security walls. That still left a lot of territory and a lot of mischief for the cat to get into. "What happened?"

"It seems that our Sebastian started a ... romance with the Vogel's Persian and there are kittens. *Lots* of kittens, I'm afraid." The older man's eyes crinkled with barely contained amusement. "Mr. Vogel was very upset at the 'cat debauchery', which he laid solely at Sebastian's feet."

Blair glanced at his cat, who was ignoring the recitation of his sins. "I see. You *did* make restitution, didn't you?"

"Of course I did, Sir. I even offered to take Princess Lilly since she was so... soiled." Another twitch touched the butler's lips, but his normal aplomb held.

"And his answer?" Blair asked, trying to sound serious.

"We now have *several* new cats in the household, Sir. It was the only way we could maintain our honor," Hawthorne explained.

Blair nodded as he scratched his cat's head. "Did you bring them with you?" the doctor asked. There would be endless opportunities for new homes for cats, even if they were the offspring of cat debauchery.

"Yes, I did, Sir. But I wanted to prepare you before presenting them," Hawthorne said levelly. He stepped out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a basket of four squirming, brown, long-haired kittens. One had the classic squared off face of a Persian, but the others were practically Sebastian's clones.

The older cat peered lazily at his offspring, yawned, then closed his eyes.

"I thought you said there were a *lot* of kittens, Hawthorne. Four is hardly a number to worry about." Blair picked up a kitten and peered into his... ah, her blue eyes. "Hi, there."

"Ten have already been adopted, and I believe Steve Ellison has become attached to Princess Lilly on the journey from Earth." Hawthorne released the kittens from the basket. They dashed around the room and investigated the furniture.

"Fourteen kittens? Good grief! No wonder fussbudget Vogel wigged out." Sandburg admired the kittens. "Wait a minute, Steve is here?" Blair asked. He hadn't been expecting Steve for another two weeks. If Steve was here then so was his wife, Brandy. Armed rebellion wouldn't part those two.

"Yes. I was surprised at the large gathering of family and friends. I didn't think so many were planning on attending Damien's birth." Hawthorne took a seat. "One would almost think there was something else happening."

Claudia and Jim had planned for their son, Damien, to be born on Orion to establish his citizenship for what would always be his primary home.

Most of the family planned to emigrate from Earth to Orion V within the next ten years. Their original schedule of twenty years had to be tossed out when the expected trickle of applications for immigration and land purchases turned out to be a flood. After all, Orion V was well outside of the current boundaries of the Human Sphere. They would truly be on the frontier.

Instead of frightening off potential citizens, it seemed to draw them. In the five months the office had been accepting applications, it had managed to sell out the next seven years worth of scheduled flights to the planet. Commercial shippers were already attempting to negotiate docking berths in a spaceport, which was still only partially finished.

It was very exciting and very overwhelming.

So what was his family up to that they wouldn't discuss with him while he was recovering? Probably some serious payback because of Running Joy's murder. They wouldn't do anything to get him stirred up until either Daryl, his physician of record, or his regular physician, Evelyn Dorsey-Foley, gave him the all-clear.

"Hawthorne, exactly who came in with you?" Blair asked. "The flight was already fully booked."

"Everyone was more than willing to share quarters, Sir. I had the pleasure of hosting Sergeant Rafe, though he deserted me rather quickly for the room of Doctor Vecchio, at which time Miss Lucinda Sandburg became my guest," he added in the tone in which only the juiciest gossip could be conveyed. "Doctor Vecchio has been instrumental in helping Sergeant Rafe recover from his broken heart."

"Jason and Joyce?" Blair asked, delighted. He'd tried earlier to get Rafe to ask the engineer out, but Jason had been convinced he was "too under-powered in the brain department" to talk to Vecchio, so any social engagements were impossible for him to conceive. Perhaps being on a ship had released the romantic in Jason Rafe's soul. Perhaps Joyce had simply bonked him on the head and dragged him back to her lair so he could kiss her until she was brainless. "Wonderful," he declared.

Hawthorne gave Blair a rundown on the additional passengers on the Rosenberg Fleet ship, Orion Majestic. Then he mentioned the four other unexpected flights arriving from Camelot, Carmel, Terra, and Corazon. Blair's family and friends were having a reunion, and no one told him about it.

What were they planning, and how could he get in on it?

"You'll be pleased to know that Miss Carter is working out very well," Hawthorne announced. Peggy Carter had been hired to take Hawthorne's place in the Cascade house when the older man made the move to Orion. Eventually, Blair planned to move his beloved house to Orion, but until then he needed it open and tended for any member of the family who would require it while they were on Earth.

"Excellent, Cecil," Sandburg responded. He leaned closer to the older man. "Find out what's going on and report back to me."

"Of course, Sir, though I'm sure as soon as you're declared fit, you'll be caught up on everything," Hawthorne assured him.

"I know, but I'd still like to know what they're planning." Blair stroked Sebastian's side. "There might be a few things I need to send for before the next ship leaves Earth."

======================

Byron went on with his story as team 6, one of fifteen Orion strike teams, continued to the Serbiack Special Training Installation via the high ridge access. Their uniforms were impregnated with ore flecks, which mimicked exactly the natural shielding deposits in the mountainside. Their undergarments reduced their radiated body temperature to within 0.0046 degrees Celsius of the surrounding air. As for sound, only a sentinel could have picked up human voices from the cacophony of wind and echoes. If they hadn't been hooked up via headphones and mikes, the team wouldn't have been able to hear each other. In other words, they were invisible.

"So Eliza, who has never been to anything more rustic than a small park, looks out and sees rows and rows of lettuce and she says..." the young sentinel paused dramatically for his audience--his guide Daryl, strike leader Joel Taggart, Maxine Tate-Rosenberg, Joyce Vecchio, Jason Rafe, and Lucinda Sandburg. "'Look, someone's dropped lettuce on the ground.' Then she paused. 'Strange, it's in neat little rows.'"

Joel chuckled. "I still remember the first time I saw food growing out of the ground... it almost blew my mind. Now I'm going to have a farm, gardens, and other people to do most of the work." Taggart secured their next hold position and provided anchor while the rest of the team moved up. Maxine and Jason would then help their commander up to the next handhold.

Again, Byron noted the care which Joel gave Lucinda. Joyce was their civilian, but it was Lucinda, a merchant fleet officer, who the big man couldn't take his eyes off.

Of course, Joyce had her own unyielding RO support in Rafe. If they hadn't needed her skills, there would have been no way Jason would have let her come on such a dangerous mission while they were *just* friends. Now that they were practically molded together, he had become even more diligent.

Byron hoped he wouldn't be *that* over protective when he found his mate. But considering the way he fussed over Daryl, he would probably be *twice* as bad as Rafe.

Joyce nimbly scrambled over the rocky crags until she found the third and final position for her equipment. Byron felt the comforting touch of his guide in his mind as he lowered his threshold of hearing and touch. Vecchio put in her instructions, and the machine began its magic.

The military installation they were closing in on began sending all of its information to the strike teams. Phase four was now complete. Team 6 continued down to the staging area for the full assault.

. . . .

Ed Bailey made final adjustments to Stalking Fury's armor shields. He could have stayed back at the landing stage and hoped his instruction signals would make it to the Guardian's shields, but there was just no way he'd take the chance.

Running Joy's death had hit him like a near fatal blow to the stomach. The young Guardian had been a delight while he was in the Bailey home, and the thought of his senseless murder enraged Ed. The inventor had been so enraged that not only had he arrived with crates and crates of Guardian armor, he had volunteered to upgrade and synchronize the new shields himself.

Fury gave him a gentle nudge before joining the ranks of Guardian Marines. Ed's own Guardian partner, Silent Edge, was the last to receive the adjustments. Bailey signaled that he was ready.

Jim Ellison thought he would be more nervous in a military mission with Blair by his side, but he was almost serene. The sentinel didn't fear for any of his family, even his supposedly elderly parents. Okay, they were in their sixties, but they were fit and seasoned. His mother had more than proven that when she had helped them break into the Pentagon. Compared to that mission, this was going to be a milk run--more action, less real danger. The Orion strike force had the military installation heavily outnumbered, and they were highly motivated. Motivated not just by the murder of Running Joy, but the knowledge that the Gargoyle (military nickname of the bio-morph) had been deliberately sent to Orion V.

Its landing near the Guardians had not been accidental. The Guardians' exodus from Earth and resettlement on Orion V and the new planet, Guardian's World, was making certain military people very nervous. On Earth, their restriction to reservations and status as a protected species minimized their impact, but free on two planets (the military still didn't know about the group on Eden) was more trouble than they wanted to chance.

So instead of destroying their monsters, they were going to use them to end the Guardian threat once and for all. The phrase Final Solution had actually been used. The parallels were obvious and intentional. It made Jim's skin crawl.

Sandburg briefly touched foreheads with his Guardian partner, Brother of Hawks, before coming to stand beside Jim. Strike, Jim's Guardian partner, was on the far side of the formation with her elite sub-group of Guardian specialists. They would take the manned towers and probably the majority of the injuries. Jet's partner, Prowler, and Maxine's partner, Grumble, were with them too. Ellison wished them all well.

Blair attached his armor to Jim's before starting his jetpack. Jim would be gunner while Blair flew them through the sentry robot field. Flying required skill, but being the gunner required sentinel-like precision.

Ellison glanced left and right at the other teams as they took to the air. Simon was paired with Nita, Henry was paired with Merry, Jet was paired with Shelly, and Ken was paired with Ace. The squad moved out in a V-formation with Jim and Blair in the lead.

There were kids who would have gladly given up most of their spending money to be on the ride Jim was having. Sandburg flew them in at only fifty centimeters off the ground. Okay that kept them under full coverage of the plains grass, but really! Then the squad arched up and the fight was on.

Robot sentries would pop up, lock on their position, and be blown to pieces by one of the gunners. It was happening so fast and furiously, it was almost impossible to say who shot which sentry. Blair led the squad back and they widened the area of cleared space for their advancing ground forces.

Jim heard the ground movement before he saw what was causing it. Sandburg turned them around and the sentinel got his first look at their new enemy. A sentry robot, fully mobile and easily three stories tall, clumped out of a side building. Ellison spotted someone at the controls in the chest section. Jim fired off the last of his clip into the body of the robot. Most of it bounced off.

Ace and Ken went roaring past and targeted the wrist joint of the robot arm as it rose with an impressively large cannon. Simon and Nita went after the second arm while Henry and Merry went for the right knee joint. Jet and Shelly took out the last of the robot sentries, but the ground force wisely stayed back.

Jim dropped two grenades on the big robot's head, but it shook them off. "In front of its feet," Sandburg suggested as he flew them down in front of it.

Ellison dropped his last grenades in a cluster just in front of the seemingly unstoppable menace. A nice big hole caused the robot to stumble.

"Pull your knees up!" Blair commanded. Jim obeyed just in time for them to go into a controlled spin--head over feet. Like a thrown baseball, Jim and Blair struck the robot on the side of the head. It continued its stumble and fell face down into the fields. The driver jumped out and Jet and Shelly dropped *all* of their grenades into the open panel. "SKY!!!" Blair commanded the squad.

Jim breathed a big sigh of relief to see the entire squad in a perfect V as the robot blew up in a shower of debris and sparks far below them. As they swept back down, Ellison could see the manned towers were already secured by Strike and her troops. The humans had been caught unawares while they watched the huge robot fight off the airborne attack.

. . . .

Lieutenant General Monica Strand clutched the wall in pain as she moved her unconscious husband, Philip, down their escape tunnel to their private evacuation ship. The facility was in flames, her people captured, and her career in ruins. Her only thought was escape.

"Moni," Philip moaned from swollen lips. He'd been badly injured by one of his own creatures when he'd tried taking one of the young to safety. Of course, the parent didn't understand that, she had just lashed out. Now both mother and child were dead.

"I've got you, darling. We're almost to the ship," Monica assured her mate. She tapped in the access codes and the panel opened to where their ship was stored. They would leave and find some way to start over. Like her husband, she believed that once the Guardians were no longer under direct human control, they should have been destroyed.

For some reason, the panel did not want to rise. The general tapped in the system override command and the panel *finally* did what she wanted and rose. Instead of revealing her ship, flames shot down the corridor from the ruins of her vessel. Somehow they had gotten down here and blown her escape ship to pieces. The fire walls came down automatically and left them in a safe pocket of coolness with fresh air and emergency water.

Monica opened the water and forced some into her husband's mouth. "I'm sorry, Philip, we're not going to escape this one."

"No, you're not," a man agreed.

Monica lifted her pistol to fire at the outrageously handsome man standing on the other side of the clear fire wall. Tall, athletic, with medium-length brown hair, and intense blue eyes, his beauty was only enhanced by the glow of the reflected flames. He was on the safe side of the tunnel, the side of her and Philip's only escape. "Who are you?"

"Ellison, Jim Ellison," the beautiful man responded. "I represent Orion V. We're taking you there to stand trial for war crimes."

"War crimes?" she scoffed. "For what?"

"For releasing a weapon of war upon a civilian population," he intoned seriously. "For specifically targeting an entire race. For attempted genocide." Even with so much hatred clearly reflected in his eyes, Ellison was still beautiful. Ellison? She wondered if he was related to another handsome Ellison she knew--Joseph Ellison?

"They're animals," she responded. "They've gotten too smart to be left alive. All you can see is the clever big dogs they want you to love, but they're more than that. Don't you understand, man? They are catching up to humans. We have to stop them."

"Actually, they've passed us," Ellison responded levelly. "You'd never catch one of them coming after our kids."

"No," Philip moaned as he moved away from Ellison and more tightly against his wife. "They've come for us," he gasped brokenly.

Monica lowered her eyes from Ellison's face to see him surrounded by a veritable sea of Guardians. There must have been hundreds of them choking the corridor, gorging on the dead, and manipulating their human puppets.

"It's okay, Philip," she reassured her husband. "I won't let them take you."

"You don't have much of a choice," Ellison reported. "We have this facility and all your escape ships. You will come with us and stand trial."

"No," Philip moaned again.

Monica kissed the temple of her husband of almost forty years. "That's where you're wrong, Ellison. I'm still a human being, and I still have choices." The general placed her mouth over her husband's for the last time. "I love you, Philip," she whispered before pulling the trigger of her pulse cannon. Philip grunted once, then fell silent. She closed his eyes.

"Don't do it, Strand!" Ellison ordered. He frantically pounded on the control panel in the hall. But the panel between him and his monsters and her and her martyred husband would not rise until the fire of their ship was out.

"Like I said, Ellison. I still have a choice." Monica placed the nose of her gun against her stomach and pulled the trigger. The sensation was intense, then she felt no more. Falling down, the general gripped the cooling hand of her husband and died.

======================

Blair flopped down on the couch closest to the fireplace in his living room. The last of the prisoners had been given directly to Colonel O'Neill in the first Earth-Orion V prisoner exchange. What could they do with them? Orion V didn't even have a jail yet. The building, which would house the jail, was low on the priority list for completion. Short of executing them all or putting them into forced labor, there wasn't much they could do with seventy prisoners.

"Having a big think?" Jim asked as he scooted in on the couch as close to Blair as he could get without actually sitting in the smaller man's lap.

"Sort of." He turned to look his dearest friend, neighbor, and partner in the eye. "Do you think this will be the last we'll hear from this group?"

"I hope so, Blair. Now that every news service is carrying the story, it'll be very hard for them to try something like this again." Jim put his arm around Blair's shoulders and gave his teacher a squeeze. "I think we have some breathing room."

"Good, we can use some peace and quiet around here," Blair grumbled.

Jim laughed. "Until Damien is born."

Blair sighed. "Any day now."

"And we have to go back to Earth," Jim added as he put his feet on the coffee table.

Blair imitated Jim's movement. "In just a few weeks."

"And I have to get back on the streets."

Sandburg groaned. "Just a few short days after that."

"And our book, which is still in progress, needs to be at the publishers," Jim added.

"Man, just a few months to that deadline," Blair grumped.

"And you have to be back at the university."

"At almost exactly the same time," Sandburg lamented. "I can hear my students emptying their brains already."

Jim snickered before pulling Blair closer and kissing the top of his head. "Let's enjoy the quiet for a moment, Buddy. Just you and me."

For three perfect minutes, the two friends sat in total peace with only the sounds of children and kittens playing, birds singing, and the soft lap of the water along the lakeshore coming in from the six open french doors. It was heaven.

"Dad, Uncle Blair!" Byron called. "There's a raft of Guardians coming toward the shore. One of them is a tiny baby, and he's solid white!"

"Blair, the port is calling," Jet yelled from the den. "There's a shipload of refugees from Riverworld, and they want sanctuary. Let them dock or shoot them down?"

"Jim, my water's broke, and I'm in labor," Claudia announced as she strode in from the kitchen with a half-plucked chicken in one hand and Daryl trying to take the chicken while calming and soothing her. Her tennis shoes were making squishy noises and leaving wet tracks on the floor.

"Jet, it's your call," Blair said as he shot to his feet.

"I told you we should have stayed at our own house," Jim said as he got quickly up from the couch. He relieved his wife of her chicken and gave it to Daryl.

"So you could run around in circles when Claudia went into labor?" Blair asked. "I don't think so." He steered his cousin out of the living room and into the guest room, which had been set up as a birthing room.

"I'm fully qualified to deliver a baby, Chief," Jim complained. Claudia moaned. "How far apart, Dear?"

"Five minutes," Daryl replied before dashing into the kitchen with their dinner.

"Five? What happened to forty, thirty, fifteen, ten, and the rest?" Jim asked indignantly. "By jumping right to five, you miss some of my best doting husband routine. I've been practicing on poor Blair for months now. He thinks his name is Darling." Ellison continued his lament as he cleaned up his wife and made her comfortable.

Blair stopped to talk to his wife. "Jet, are they docking or simply smoldering debris in space?"

"I was tempted, but I allowed them to dock," Jet answered. "I blame Maxine and her tots for weakening me to the people from Riverworld."

Sandburg kissed his wife's lips before going outside to see why they were having Guardian visitors. After a thorough examination, Blair announced that their little guest needed an operation to remove the blockage which was obstructing the little lady's bowel and keeping her from thriving.

With Daryl assisting, Blair performed the operation without complication. Willow Song was up and toddling around very soon. She even managed to play with the kittens before taking a much-needed nap.

Blair cleaned up and was just in time to hold Damien while Jim cut the cord. Laughing and crying at the same time, Jim placed his blue-eyed, blond, curly-haired son in Claudia's arms. "He's beautiful," Ellison declared.

An hour later, Jim carried his son around the living room, letting the family meet and admire the newest member. Blair watched with a small, okay large, catch in his throat as Jim placed Damien in Byron's arms. "I didn't get to hold you when you were this small, but why don't we imagine it together?" Jim asked.

Byron smiled, then laughed. Damien yawned, glared blearily at the two men looming over him, then closed his eyes. He gripped his older brother's finger tightly. "Hey little guy, I'm your big brother." The young sentinel held the baby gently against his chest.

======================

Willow Song waved from the raft until she was out of sight. Her tiny white form made a startling statement against the rust brown of her mother and honey blonde of her father.

"Are you sure she couldn't stay?" Maria asked. "I liked being her nurse."

Blair's little cousin, Simon and Helaine's daughter Maria Renee Banks Rosenberg, had made an excellent *nurse* when it came to the tiny Guardian. Maria gifted the little patient with her total attention, unqualified love, and full empathic contact.

"You helped her fully recover, cupcake. That's the goal of a good healer, and you will make an excellent healer, Sweetheart." Blair led the little girl away from the shore and back to her house. Because the houses were set well back from the shore, he had to lift the little girl onto his shoulders and carry her to her home.

Simon and Helaine lived to the right of Blair and Jim and Claudia lived to the left of him. Their lakeshore yards had no physical boundaries and activities just naturally spilled from one section to the other.

Jim and Claudia were sitting on their porch. Baby Damien, freshly fed and diapered, was snoozing in his covered swing bed. Blair dropped off Maria then dashed over to sit with cousin and friend.

"Hello," Sandburg called as he came over to sit with them for a bit.

"Hey, Chief," Jim responded. "I was afraid Maria was going to cry on you there."

"So was I," Blair admitted. "But she knew Willow needed to go home." Sandburg leaned over the bed and gently stroked the ultra soft curls of Damien's head while cooing softly to him. Baby Ellison had a seventy-five percent chance of being a sentinel, and it wasn't too early to start training. Blair mentally planned a bonding and training schedule for Damien and Victoria Brown. He didn't know how long he'd been caught up in those images when he heard Jim's voice.

"Another big think, Chief?" Jim asked.

"Sort of," Blair admitted. "But I did have an important thought earlier while I was treating little Willow."

"What was that?" Claudia asked.

"That if she'd been born when Guardians were still in servitude to humans, she would have been killed," Blair said grimly. "The breeders wouldn't want the white fur to show up in the gene pool because it's a military liability. They wouldn't have allowed such a small pup to live because she will never get up to minimum size. A pup who required corrective surgery would have been put down too. That's three strikes against her survival when only one was needed to end her life." Blair paused. "But her parents traveled hundreds of miles, carrying her most of the way, to us for help."

"They didn't come empty-pawed either," Claudia reminded them. "They came with several of those hard, translucent rocks humans like."

"Diamonds," Jim chuckled. "That's another thing. Several Guardians must have helped to mine those gems and construct the raft." He paused. "What are you going to do with all that money, Chief? I know you're expensive, but you're not that expensive."

Blair smiled. Jim was right, of course. Yes, his fees were high, but Eagle Scream and Night Runner had brought more than 100 times his final fee. To a Guardian gemstones were what babies liked to chew on and had no other value to them, but Humans loved them. "I'm starting an account for the Guardians to pay for whatever they might need. I'm hoping to find someone here to oversee it for me while I'm back on Earth."

Jim smiled. "Let Ace do it," he suggested. "He'd never cheat them, and he needs something to do now that he's on Orion. Sellars is always at his best when he has someone else to look after."

Sandburg grinned. "Thanks for the suggestion, Jim. I'm glad to see you're not going to kill Ace."

"He's not toying with you, Chief, so he's safe," Ellison explained. "If that were to change, I'd kill him. Since I'm the Minister of Justice, I would investigate but never arrest myself." He smiled dangerously.

Blair had heard about the entire 'Grand Inquisitor' incident, but he wasn't going to call Jim on it. Teasing aside, Ellison wasn't really the kind of person to abuse his power.

Down the way, Simon's dinner bell rang loudly. Jim put on his baby carrier and slipped his snoozing son inside. There was no telling what kind of culinary delight awaited them at Simon and Helaine's table, and only a fool hesitated with so many legendary hollow legs hanging around. Jim and Blair walked along side-by-side with Claudia strolling just ahead of them.

Rushing from the lake, Daryl, Byron, and their lady friends Tina Montrose and her cousin Sonya wrapped their wet, nude bodies with quickly grabbed towels. You could hardly begrudge them their fun after a long day of checking in colonists and finding work and sponsors for three shiploads of Riverworld refugees who had arrived with scarcely more than the clothes on their backs.

Jet, Joel Taggart, and Lucinda Sandburg were coming from the Sandburg gardens with heavily loaded baskets of fresh vegetables and fruit. Joel and Lucinda were clearly holding hands. Blair, hopeless romantic, was glad to see two such loners find each other.

Jason Rafe and Joyce Vecchio, both guests of Blair and Jet, were bringing several of the cakes and pies Joyce had been baking that day. Jason didn't know how to bake, few single people from Earth did, and he'd been taking cooking lessons from the multi-talented engineer.

All around them, their family and friends gathered, put out picnic tables, and greeted each other after a long hard day of work.

Sandburg reached out and put his arm around the larger man's waist. "These are the times, Jim," Blair said softly. "Relish them."

"I do, Chief. I always do," Jim whispered before putting a soft kiss on his tiny son's forehead. The youngest Ellison yawned and stretched. The breeze from the lake ruffled the baby's soft curls, which glistened like gold in the lowering sun. "I relish every second."

-- End Chapter 30 --