MEGATOKYO, JAPAN - MAY, 2033

     Priss walked into Raven's garage with a spring in her step.  "Hi,
Mackie.  Hi, Doc.  Lovely day, isn't it?"
     "What?" Mackie just stared at her.
     "Now _that's_ out of character," said "Doctor" Raven, the owner of the
garage where the Knight Sabers kept a secret training ground and equipment
storage facility.
     "The others are already waiting for you." Mackie signaled towards the
back room.
     "Thanks, Mackie.  Keep up the good work!"
     When Priss had disappeared out back, Mackie looked at Raven.  "What was
that all about?"
     "Hmmm..." Raven scratched his white mustache in thought.  "The
lightness of her step, the lilt in her voice, the pleasant mood, and the
look in her eyes all add up to the same thing."
     "What?!" Mackie stared at Raven, wide-eyed.
     "She got lucky last night."
     Mackie burst out laughing.  "*Of course*!"

     "Great day, isn't it?"
     "What are you talking about?" Linna stared at Priss.
     "Earth to Priss," Nene said.
     "What?  Can't I appreciate this beautiful spring day?"
     "What's his name, Priss?" Linna said.
     "Oh, that is _so_ wonderful!" Nene said.  "I always knew you and Leon
would get together!  You must look great with each other!"
     "It's _not_ Leon, Nene!"
     "But it is a man, then." Linna said.
     "Grrr!  All right!  I met a guy last night!"
     "I knew it!"
     "Me too!"
     Priss sighed.  Linna and Nene would never let up now that she brought
it out into the open.  Better to reveal it all rather than get picked on.
"His name is Adam."
     "Where did you meet him?"
     "What does he look like?"
     "What does he do?"
     "How much money does he make?"
     "Oh, will you two _stop_?  We just met, that's all.  It just kinda
happened.  I was feeling down about the last incident, and he was there, and
the next thing I knew..."
     "Wow!" Nene said.  "You don't have to say any more!"
     "Sure work fast, don't you?" said Linna.
     "You're a great one to talk."
     Sylia watched the whole exchange with a slight smile on her face.
Maybe her warning to Priss after the last incident had done some good.  And
maybe this Adam did too.  She cleared her throat and said, "Let's get to
work, ladies."  Then she took Priss aside.  "Patrick will be relieved.  He
was worried about you.  Do you want to call before we start the workout?"
     "No.  Patrick and I are through."
     Sylia nodded.  "I see."
     "It's not like that.  We just decided it'd be better for me to get
another Teacher, that's all."
     Sylia nodded again but didn't say anything else about the subject.
Instead she ushered Priss into the changing area.

     Patrick felt the presence of the other Immortal outside his condo.  He
reached for his sword and walked over to the door.  Unlocking it, he said,
"That you, Priss?"
     "Open the bloody door, O'Brien!"
     Patrick immediately recognized the voice and shrugged.  He opened the
door.  "What do you want, Methos?"
     "Can't I come in?"
     "I suppose."
     Patrick didn't entirely trust Methos.  They first met in Paris where
Methos was disguised as a Watcher, and was responsible for nearly
'accidentally' exposing all the Immortals to CNN.  Then he sent a suicidal
Immortal his way, one who had a similar sin as he did.  And over the last
forty years, their paths had crossed several times, not always for the
better.  Patrick nearly always ending the encounter frustrated, Methos
nearly always ending it amused.  However, he did save the life of a very
close friend, Bernard Willis, and for that Patrick owed him.  He ushered the
world's oldest Immortal into his condo and put his sword down. 
     "What's this all about?  Gonna sluff off another suicidal Immortal on
me again, or expose us to the world?"
     "Neither this time.  I wanted to talk to you about Priscilla Asagiri."
     "Sit down.  You want a drink?"
     "A beer would be perfect."
     Patrick took two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator and handed one
to Methos.  "What about Priss?"
     "I just wanted to let you know that she's fine."
     "What?  Are _you_ her Teacher now?"
     "Something like that."  Methos let the understood remain understood. 
     "And how are _you_ gonna teach her how to fight?  As I recall, most of
your recent victories were due to blind luck."
     "I have gotten better in the last forty years, O'Brien."
     "Really, now?"
     "Look, I just came here to tell you that Priss is OK.  She's not gonna
turn evil, at least before the afternoon is over, and she's at least
thinking about growing up."
     "How much do you know about her?"
     "Enough.  Enough to trust her.  And yes, I know she's a Knight Saber.
She needs someone to trust her, and someone she can trust without any
reservation right now, or without it being out of necessity.  Once she
learns to trust people outside of her little vigilante group, or you only
because she has to, then she'll be ready for the next step, and then I'll
send her back to you."
     "You're a _great_ one to talk about trust."
Methos sighed.  "Fine.  Look, all I wanted to do was tell you not to worry
about Priss and to watch your back.  There's an Immortal in town who plans
on killing you."
     "I know."
     "But you _don't_ know that he's traveling around with four boomers and
claiming that it's not against the Rules. "
     "And he hasn't come for you?"
     "I'm a survivor, O'Brien.  You don't live for five thousand years
without learning a few tricks that can be applied to _any_ situation. Thanks
for the beer."  Methos got up and left.
     Patrick watched the closed door for several minutes, thinking about
what Methos said about Priss _and_ the other mystery Immortal.  Patrick
assumed he was warning him about Kowalski, but Methos hadn't mentioned his
name.  An Immortal with boomers _could_ say that it wasn't against the rules
and technically be correct.  But how did Methos know about the boomers?  He
hadn't been in the Watchers since the last century, so _how_?  Something
truly fishy was going on.   
     Par for the course where Methos was concerned.

     Leon was ruffling through the files once again to find some connection
between the four victims when Chief Todo paged him.  He groaned, got up from
his desk and walked over to Todo's desk, knowing what he was going to say.
     "You wanted to see me, sir?"
     "I'm taking you and Daily off the boomer headhunter case." 
     Not too long ago, Leon would have yelled, screamed even, about the
politics behind the decision and probably would have called Todo several
unflattering names like "chicken shit," "coward," and "ass-kisser," and Todo
would have responded in kind, calling Leon "maniac," "hot-head," and "insane
son-of-a-bitch."  It was common knowledge that GENOM pulled a _lot_ of
strings in the AD Police building.  However, recently the Chief had been
secretly accommodating Leon's requests, like the time recently when he
assigned him a chopper equipped with a K-12 armored trooper and went out of
his way to tell him _not_ to use the K-12.  This changed Leon's opinion of
the Chief.  He had perhaps the toughest job in the entire department, he
wanted to do something, but was constantly told by his superiors not to.  So
instead of  yelling, which never got him anywhere in the first place, he sat
and said, "I'm not surprised.  Pressure from Upstairs?"
     "Upstairs has decided that renegade boomers alone are responsible for
these crimes, that there's no connection between the victims, and that we're
to focus our investigation on finding the boomers, not a non-existent human."
     Leon frowned.  "Figures."
     "By the way, how's that detective agency you've started up?  You
finding it hard moonlighting?"
     The veiled meaning wasn't lost on Leon.  He knew exactly where the
Chief was headed with this, and Leon didn't miss a beat.  "Yeah it's tough
putting in all these extra hours, but what can I do?  I have to pay the rent." 
     "You should take on an employee.  You work well with Daily, and I know
he needs some extra money, too."
     "Good idea, Chief."  Leon stood.
     "And why don't you and Daily take a few sick days?  You look exhausted."
     "I feel it too."
     "By the way, Leon, while you're taking time off, do _not_ investigate
any AD Police cases.  That would constitute a conflict of interests."
     "Gotcha.  And thanks."

     Later that night, Daily came over to Leon's and the two of them poured
over the copies of the AD Police files that Todo had Nene make before the
entire mess got shipped Upstairs.  They still could find no connection
between the victims, much less who the headhunter was.  Leon rubbed his
eyes.  "I'm getting sick of looking at this." 
     "Why don't we take a break for a while.  I'll go run the shower..."
     "Not tonight.  My back's killing me."
     "Again?"
     Leon cut off his come-back, because at that moment he heard a scraping
sound coming from his front door.  He grabbed his gun and Daily followed
suit.  "Cover me," he told Daily.
     "My pleasure."
     Leon advanced to the door just as a soft THUMP followed by the sound of
footsteps outside was heard.  He opened the door, ignoring the package that
had been dropped inside, and followed the individual who was running down
the stairs.  Once on the street, he could barely make out the dark trench
coat the person was wearing and couldn't even tell if they were male or
female.  Steadily, he pointed his gun at the running figure.  "Freeze!  AD
Police!"  The figure didn't stop running.  Leon fired once, catching the
person in the shoulder, but they continued running.  He fired again,
catching them in the leg.  The figure ran into an alleyway, but when Leon
entered, the unknown individual had disappeared. 
     "Did you get him?" came Daily's voice from behind him.
     "Nope.  I winged him twice but he kept running.  What did he leave us,
a bomb?"
     "No, look at this."  Daily handed him a computer disk and a typewritten
note.
     "Inspectors McNichol and Wong," the note said.
     "You do not know me, and we should keep it that way.  This is a video
disk that I came across recently which shows one of the crimes you're
investigating.
     "Signed, a friend."
     They walked back to Leon's apartment and slipped the disk into his
videodisk player.  Immediately in the upper right-hand corner was the legend
"SMYTHE INTERNATIONAL" and the date, "4/24/33," was in the lower left-hand
corner.  The image was of a garage.  Mostly, all they could see were cars
and vans.  However, in the background they could barely make out four
figures holding machine guns.  A fifth was facing them, holding a sword and
speaking to a sixth man, who answered.  They spoke for a few seconds.
     "I wish we could hear what they were saying," Daily said. 
     As they watched, the four with guns opened fire on the fifth, who
collapsed behind a car and out of sight as the gunmen ceased fire and walked
out of the picture.  Then the sixth man, holding a sword, approached the
spot where the victim had collapsed and swung it. Then he spread his arms as
an electrical shock arced across several cars and burned out the
surveillance camera, ending the video.
     "What the hell was that?" Leon said.
     "Power surge?"
     "Of that magnitude?  I doubt it.  Let's run it through the enhancers
and see what we can turn up.  Maybe we'll be able to make out some of what
was being said."

     It took the better part of two days and nights, but Daily and Leon were
able to piece together, through seemingly endless enhancement, a close
approximation of the conversation between the victim, who was obviously
Richard Smythe, and his assailant, who now had a name, Stephen Kowalski.
Still, the gunmen looked human enough.  Their eyes were hidden by the bad
lighting, cheesy sunglasses, and ridiculous amount of computer enhancement,
so it was impossible to tell if they were red or not.  But still, Leon and
Daily searched for that illusive clue that would pin this crime once and for
all on boomers _and_ a human.
     "Let's run it once more before packing it in for the night," Leon said,
sipping a cup of coffee.
     Daily hit the play button on the remote.  The two images silently
played out their conversation, which both detectives now knew by heart. 
     "Are you Richard Smythe?"
     "That's right,"
     "I am Stephen Kowalski."
     "I don't know you, Kowalski, so why don't we walk away from this.  I
have no fight with you."
     "That's good, I'm glad you don't want to fight me."  Kowalski nodded at
his companions who cocked their weapons.
     Smythe looked at the gunmen.  "What is this?"  
     "It's called bending the rules."  He nodded again and the gunmen opened
fire.
     Smythe collapsed and was no longer visible.  The gunmen walked away and
Kowalski stood over where they assumed Smythe was, grinning in triumph.  He
swung the sword, and the electrical arc shorted out the closed-circuit camera.
     "It's a wonder that didn't erase the disk this was being recorded on,"
Leon said.
     "God _damn_!" Daily exclaimed.
     "What?"
     "How could we have been so blind?!"
     "Are you gonna fill me in or are you just gonna sit there babbling like
dunce?"
     Daily hit the rewind button and then stabbed play.  When the gunmen
were at their clearest, he hit pause, then said to the videodisk machine,
"Enhance and enlarge 57-36."  The computer zoomed in on the face of the
second gunman, which was mostly hidden from the camera by the first.  It
then enhanced the blurry picture until the jagged profile of the gunman was
clearly visible.
     "Viola!" Daily triumphantly exclaimed.
     "Are you gonna tell me what you're up to?"
     "Look at his cheek, what little of it you can see."
     Leon looked and saw a normal cheek except for a small, triangular
discoloration just underneath the cheekbone.  It looked as if it was the
corner of a large birthmark or scar that would cover the entire cheek if
they had a complete picture.  It was also silver-gray in color.
     "Holy shit," Leon whispered.  "Metal."
     "There's our boomer.  I'd bet a year's pay that this is the one who
lost face at the scene of the Rillio murder.  And I'd bet my pension that
the other three are boomers as well."
     "Daily, I could kiss you!"
     Daily hit the print button.  "Stop making promises you know you'll
never keep or you'll wind up breaking my heart one of these days.  What do
we do now?"
     Leon sat back and rubbed his eyes.  "Get some sleep.  You can crash
here on the couch again, and don't give me that disappointed act.  We
obviously won't get any official help, so tomorrow we'll talk to Nene."
     "Sounds like a plan to me."

     The next day at AD Police headquarters, as Nene was working at her
console, Leon paged her to report the crime computer room.  She got up and
walked towards it, wondering what this was all about.  Then she stopped and
knocked on the door.
     "Come on in, Nene," came Daily's voice.
     Nene entered the room.  "Nene Romanova reporting."
     "Sit down."  Leon gestured towards the operator's seat.
     Nene sat.  "What's up?"
     "We need a favor," Leon said.
     "A _big_ favor," Daily added.
     "Oh?"  Whenever Leon or Daily asked for a "big favor," Nene could be
assured that she would be going outside of the official channels.  As
innocent as she looked, and sometimes was, Nene was not naive.  After all,
computer hacking was more than just a hobby, it was what had gotten her both
her position at AD Police and into the Knight Sabers.  "What do you need?"
     "We need you to scan the crime computers for one Stephen Kowalski."
Leon handed her one of the pictures Daily had made from the videodisk.
     Nene scanned it over.  "Is this the best you've got?"
     "Unfortunately," Daily said, "yes.  It's from an anonymous package.
It's enlarged absurd amounts of times from a video surveillance disk."
     "Gotcha.  Can I see the surveillance disk?"
     "We can do one better," Leon said as he handed her a disk.  "Here's the
enhanced version."
     "Well... I'll look at the enhanced version tonight, but I'd like to see
the raw data too.  Remember, _I'm_ the computer operator, _ you're_ the
investigator."
     "Can it wait until tomorrow?" Leon said.
     "I suppose.  I'll start with my usual checks with Japanese
intelligence, the CIA, the British Secret Service, NeoNATO, Interpol... That
reminds me, what about payment?"
     "Oh, right," Leon said.  "The Chief's niece will be doing her school's
candy drive soon, and he'll be bringing in a bunch of boxes.  Will one box do?" 
     "That'll be perfect!"  She made little shooshing motions with her
hands.  "Now go on, shoo!  I've got to get down to business."

     Nene's search for Kowalski had turned up nothing.  She was frustrated,
and when she was frustrated she got hungry.  And when she got hungry she
ate, usually something very, very sweet.  Tonight she was extra frustrated,
so on the way home she stopped by an Italian bakery and bought three large
chocolate custard canolis dripping with powered sugar.  Taking one, she
settled down in front of her computer and slipped in the videodisk Leon had
given her.  She called up the player software, clicked on the "play" button
and began devouring the canoli.  Once again the two figures played out their
ghostly conversation which Daily had provided a transcript for.  
     When the electrical arc burst forth and shorted out the camera, she
jumped in her seat, nearly dropping the remains of the canoli.  Then she
replayed the conversation from the beginning, stopping when Kowalski said
"It's called bending the rules."  It occurred to her then that she was
watching an Immortal battle and the electricity was the Quickening, captured
on camera.  Now she _really_ wanted to see the original, raw, unenhanced
data.  She fired up her communications software.  She had spoken to Joe
Dawson earlier in the week and had told him that she was _very_ interested
in joining the Watchers.  After all, the only thing they wanted was her
computer expertise, so she could easily fit it in with all her other
activities.  Joe gave her a log in name and password for the database so she
wouldn't be hacking around behind their backs using Joe's personal account,
like how she had gotten on originally.  She dialed up and logged in.   The
screen responded with its usual WATCHER DATABASE - ASIA, 2033.  She clicked
on the "search" button, and the screen responded with "Please enter the
Immortal you wish to search for in the format Last name, First name.  Please
use Roman.  If you have a Kanji, Mandarin, or Cantonese keyboard, re-log in
and choose the "other languages" option.  
     Nene entered "Kowalski, Stephen."  The database churned for a few
seconds before producing the following results:

     NAME
     Stephen Kowalski
     KNOWN ALIASES
     Richard Baty, Stephen Baty, Roy Kennedy, Samuel Kennedy, Scott Kerry,
Roy Kerry, Ralph Kowals, Richard Kowals, Roy Kowalski
     KNOWN NICKNAMES
     Unknown
     AGE
     104
     HOME BASE
     Megatokyo, Japan
     OCCUPATION
     Unknown
     DATE MOST RECENTLY SPOTTED
     May 2nd, 2033
     LOCATION
     Megatokyo, Japan
     WATCHER
     Cheryl Lombard
     REMARKS
     I am requesting reassignment.  Stephen Kowalski is the most
unscrupulous Immortal I have ever come across, and I've been a Watcher for
25 years.  He takes boomers with him when he headhunts, claiming that the
Rules do not say anything about artificial life assisting him in his fights.
Recently, he has beheaded four good Immortals, Tochiro Segawa, Olga
Heismann, Frederic Rillio, and Richard Smythe.  In Heismann's case, he left
behind a grieving husband, and in Smythe's, he murdered not only an Immortal
who considered himself out of the Game, but a good man who many owed their
lives to.  I have suspected ties to GENOM, but have been unable to
substantiate this suspicion.  I know we're not supposed to let personal
feelings into our observations, but I hope someone takes Kowalski's head,
and soon.
     "Ah ha!"  Nene hit "print" and went off to get another canoli.  When
she returned, she logged off and sat back, thinking.  Now the murders made
sense.  The four Immortals Cheryl Lombard mentioned in her report were the
four victims of the "boomer headhunter."  The fact that none of the victims
had medical insurance made sense now.  Immortals most likely didn't get
sick, and she'd seen Priss break four ribs and heal within minutes.  Heck,
she'd even seen her _die_ and come back, so they obviously didn't need
hospitals, therefore no medical records.  When she got to work tomorrow,
she'd do the usual search again, this time using Kowalski's aliases.  For
now she sat back and prepared to eat another wonderful canoli when her watch
began beeping. 
     "Oh no!  An incident!  Now don't you go away, I'll be back in a jiffy."
She placed the canoli in the refrigerator.

     "What're we up against?" Priss asked.
     "Three of the same type of boomer as the other night's incident are
demolishing an old building off the Bayshore," Mackie said as he drove.
"Unfortunately the building is still occupied by a few stores and a
restaurant."
     "What're those assholes doing?" grumbled Priss.
     "Probably testing out the new sensory equipment," Sylia said.
     "Testing it out on us," Linna said.
     "Nene," Sylia said.  "You'll have your hands full jamming the sensors.
I want you to stay out of the fight this time as much as possible."
     "OK, no problem at all!" Nene said.
     "And Priss?"
     Priss looked up.
     "Remember what I said the other night about fighting as a team.  We
_do_ have our rules."
     Kowalski's words rang through Nene's head.  "It's called bending the
rules."  What kind of rules _did_ Immortals live by?  She'd have to remember
to ask Joe.

     The boomers looked as if they were having the time of their lives.
They rummaged through the shops, blasting anything and anyone in their path.
The whole thing disgusted Sylia down to the core of her being.  This was not
what her father had in mind, however dreams had the habit of being perverted
by those who hungered for power.  
     "Knight Sabers, let's go."
     "All right, boomer," Priss said, picking out hers, "let's rock."  She
aimed her palm-railgun and fired.  The boomer, as she expected, dodged out
of the way.
     Linna, meanwhile, failed to get close enough to her boomer to score
with either her knuckle-bomber or her cutting ribbons.  Sylia, too, found it
impossible to connect.
     "Nene?"
     "Not yet.  It seems like they were ready for us.  It's harder to
isolate the frequency."
     "We can't do this individually," Priss said.  "Linna, when I fire and
he dodges, get close and get him with your knuckle-bomber.  
     "Gotcha."
     "Sylia, you fire from the other side."
     "OK, Priss."
     Linna moved closer to Priss' boomer.  Priss fired, and the boomer
predictably dodged, however, the boomer saw Linna, grabbed her cutting
ribbons and tossed her.  And when Sylia fired, another of the boomers
slapped her arm out of the way causing her to miss.  She backed away.
     "Anything, Nene?" she said.
     "Not yet."
     The distraction cost Sylia.  One of the boomers struck her across the
back, sending her sprawling on the ground.
     "Sylia!" Priss exclaimed.  "You asshole, you'll pay!"  Priss wound up
to give the boomer a kick, but found her ankle in the boomer's hand.  Her
opponent picked her up and threw her.  She landed, back-first, on the
ground.  Taking a precious second to catch her breath, she turned over on
her hands and knees and then stood.  The other two Sabers were back on their
feet as well.
     "If there was only one, we could all take it down easily."
     "I've got it!" Nene said.  "Their sensors are jammed."
     "All right."  Priss fired, but still the boomer dodged.
     "Nene?"
     "It seems as if the sensory equipment aren't the only enhancements on
these models," Sylia explained.  "Priss, we'll use your original plan.  On
my mark, you and I will fire on opposite sides, Linna, you get close and
take it out."
     "Gotcha," Priss said.
     "Roger," Linna said.
     "Ready?  Three... two... one.. FIRE!"
     Priss and Sylia both fired their weapons simultaneously.  The boomer
was unable to dodge in two directions at once, and without its 360 degree
vision, it didn't see Linna sneak up in between the crossfire  and slice its
arms off.  The boomer collapsed and Linna dispatched it with a well-placed
knuckle-bomb.
     "Same thing on the second one."  Sylia watched the other two get into
position.  "Three... two... one... FIRE!"  Again, Priss and Sylia fired
their weapons and Linna got in on the boomer's blind side.  Now she didn't
waste any time and immediately placed a knuckle-bomb on the boomer's head.
     "Two down," Priss said.
     But the third boomer had figured out where the jamming signal was
coming from and was advancing towards Nene.  "We'll have to act quick,"
Sylia told the other two.  
     However, Priss was already advancing and launched herself at the
boomer.  It opened its chest cavity,  revealing its big blaster, and fired
at Nene.  But Priss was fast, and positioned herself between the boomer and
Nene, catching the entire blast in her own chest at point blank range.  She
collapsed on the ground and stopped breathing. 
     "Oh my God," Nene said.  "Priss!"  She stared at the gaping hole where
Priss' chest once was looking like a grim mirror of the boomer's open chest
cavity.  She actually _saw_ her scorched heart stop beating and had to fight
to keep the canolis in her stomach.
     Sylia sighed.  "Linna, we'll have to do this on our own without Priss.
It looks like she'll be out for a good long while."
     "Roger."
     Sylia opened fire, but the boomer was able to dodge.  It opened its
chest cavity again and fired.  Sylia dodged the energy beam barely and fired
again.  Linna tried to get close, but couldn't.  The boomer caught Sylia's
arm in its hand and squeezed her hardsuit.  She knew if the suit broke, her
arm would be next.  She activated her vibro blade and stabbed it into the
joint between its hips and abdomen, slicing upwards.  The boomer groaned and
dropped her.
     "Now, Linna!"
     Linna armed her knuckle-bomber and attacked.  She punched the boomer's
head which exploded with the impact of the bombs.
     "We did it!" Nene said.

     Back at Sylia's penthouse, the other Knight Sabers and Mackie prepared
for Sylia to harshly chew out Priss.  At that moment, however, none of them
would have ever guessed the real outcome.  
     Sylia walked into the living room.  "Priss, I'm not going to dress this
up.  I'm going to have to ask for your resignation."
     "_What_?!"
     "You've become a liability.  You were reckless enough when you simply
didn't fear death.  Now that death has no meaning for you anymore, you've
become a hindrance.  Tonight's incident..."
     "Isn't that a bit drastic?"  It was Linna who interrupted Sylia.
"After all, Priss fought _well_ as a member of a team, and it was her
strategy that took out those boomers.  Besides, she saved Nene's life."
     "I've made my decision.  Fear has always sharpened each of us.  Fear
that we could get seriously hurt, even killed.  It kept us alert.  It also
kept us from doing stupid things.  We had plenty of time to distract that
boomer away from Nene if we stuck to the original plan."
     "Sylia, please don't do this to me!"
     "You did it to yourself, Priss.  Reckless abandon will ruin the Knight
Sabers.  Not only did you put all of our lives in jeopardy by dying, but you
ruined a brand new hardsuit, and I cannot afford the repair costs if you're
destroying equipment during every incident.  Learn restraint, then come back
and perhaps we can try again.  Learn that even for you there is a difference
between death and life."
     Priss looked about the room.  Linna was shocked, Mackie was speechless,
and Nene was quietly sobbing to herself.  Then she looked at Sylia, who had
a deadly serious expression on her face and her arms folded.  Teary eyed,
Priss left the room and closed the door. 
     The apartment was silent for several minutes before Linna broke it.
"Then I'll be tending my resignation too."
     "Linna..."
     "I was as angry at Priss as you were the other night, probably more.
But tonight...  I can't believe even _you_ would do this."
     "I haven't been completely comfortable with Priss in the Knight Sabers
ever since she became Immortal." 
     "Well then," Linna said, "maybe _I'm_ not comfortable with how you're
treating this, and her.  She didn't ask to be Immortal."
     "I know, but..."
     Linna got up and walked over to the door.  "Goodbye, Sylia."

(continued...)
(c) 1997, Mabnesswords