Well, here's the conclusion of my repost of my old
story.  Remember as always C&C is well on this, how you ask?
Just reply or just send your check or money order to
bastion@ix.netcom.com
Sorry no CODs.

On with the story. . . .

Timelords

Part 5: A Venom's Affect



	The stuffy basement added to the nervousness of the recruitees
as the blond lead them to a large machine.  The machine crammed
almost into all the space available in the basement with its
gigantic gears and pistons protruding from other large crude
devices.  

	"This machine is an idea my father was developing before. . .
."  the blond paused a moment as she shut her eyes before
continuing, fighting to control the swelling of emotions brought
on by bad memories, "the attack."

	The suspicious one of the group spoke up for the first time;

	"What does it do?" it seemed to be more of a demand than a
question.

	"I'm sorry but I can only give out so much information to new
members,"  Xendyte sharply replied to the suspicious one's
question losing her friendliness in the process, "What's
important is how you can help us."

	The blond woman dropped her serious tone and continued, "The
Society needs you to help build these machines.  Since something
of this magnitude has to be built as discreetly as possible,
we'll have to build the machine a little by little through the
timeline.  You'll be assigned to develop the machine for a
certain amount of time and then move on and let another take
your place.  You'll be assigned to your next destination to do
some developing on another machine.  These machines will help us
defeat the Counsule.  We have built machines across the
dimensions of this planet, so if the Counsule destroys one we'll
still have others to work from."

	Xendyte showed the group around the machine in the dismally lit
basement with realitive confidence in her knowledge.  She
pointed to various parts explaining the length of time it will
take to develop it.  The suspicious one looked around anxiously
at the machinery and the surroundings taking mental notes of the
area.  Finally the blond haired woman lead them back up the
stairs to the ground floor, to the groups relief.   Once
everyone was on the main floor, the white haired man noted the
anxious look in the suspicious one's eyes.  Xendyte happily
turned around and with her big blue eyes scanned the crowd.  Up
to this moment the white haired man had hardly noticed what the
blond was saying ever since the suspicious one spoke:

	"So does anyone have any questions?"  Xendyte chimed clasping
her hands in front of her face.

	The suspicious one's eyes narrowed and growled hoarsely while
reaching for something under his long cloak, "No."

	The suspicious one flipped over his cloak to reveal a large
particle gun and started to blast the swarming Society soldiers.
 The suspicious one immediately received many hits from the guns
of the soldiers still standing.  The confused mass of bodies
scurried around avoiding the crossfire, as the white haired man
tried to keep track of Xendyte in the pandemonium.  He caught a
glimpse of a long blond ponytail disappearing into one of the
dark passages.  The white haired man made his way through the
terrified mass to the passage.  Before entering the white haired
man checked on the condition of the suspicious one.  He was
taking a heavy beating from all the guns, but was still firing. 
The white haired man noticed that the Society soldiers were
quickly filing around fortified spots, like they were preparing
for an invasion.  Then a thought came to Tracer's mind, 'The
timelords are raiding the warehouse, but wait I didn't tell them
anything about this place-'

	Before he could finish his thought, a large metallic arm nailed
him the head.

	"The general wants to see you, Stranger."  came a deep voice
from the dark visor of the machine, as it dragged the
unconscious timelord in disguise to his fateful meeting.



	'It has been so long since I've seen this wondrously annoying
sword.' the general thought to himself as he waited for his
captive to awaken.  

	He had fought the urge to take the sword away from the man, for
he needed to know if he had learned to tap its power.  The
general sat comfortably in the shadows as his loyal suited
soldier preferred to stand in the little light that was emitting
from the dying bulb.  The room was rather spacious and empty
with just one light above the form of a man with white hair
lying on the smooth concrete floor.  The form groaned as it got
up, 'Man I'm a freaking timelord I'm not suppose to be knocked
out that easily.'

	"Hello, Stranger."  came a aged, cold voice from the shadows.  

	The white haired man turned to face the source of the voice. 
Forgoing the accent he questioned the shadows, "Who the hell are
you?" 

	In response a faint red glow came from the shadows, "Someone
you should fear."

	As the red glow intensified, Tracer felt uneasy about the long
pause.  The cold piercing voice finally continued, "Where did
you get that sword from?"

	The white haired man looked around nervously, but his face was
unchanging.  The voice scared him, something he didn't like, as
he tried to cover his nervousness with noncompliance, "I just
found it lying around somewhere."

	The red glow illuminated from the shadows silhouetting
everything and out shining the dying light above them.  The
white haired man suddenly found himself being lifted off the
smooth floor.

	"You can not just get that from anywhere.  You have to be
someone special, someone who you are not."  the cold voice had
melted into a cruel and psychotic one.

	The white haired man looked toward two red glowing hands, one
was motioning upwards while the other recoiled a little and
suddenly flew forward with a blast of red energy emitting from
it.  The white haired man put his arms up in anticipation as the
oncoming blast engulfed him.  The white hair burned away to long
black hair, and the white suit and light brown pants ripped away
to reveal a black jumper suit.  In the glow of the red light the
levitated Tracer stared at an aged and familiar face.

	"Halebit?"  Tracer said in disbelief.

	The aged face changed to one of empathy and signed, "Poor
child, I'm afraid you made a mistake coming here."  

	Tracer instantly came to the awful realization that Halebit was
the general of the Society, "You bastard!!!  You betrayed me!!!!
 All those years, all my training, all of my trust was nothing
to you!!!"

	Halebit sneered and motioned his raised arm downwards, making
Tracer accelerate towards the floor cracking the concrete. 
Halebit subtlety grinned happily but shook his head and his
expression became cold and calculate once more as he motioned
his same arm back and forth.  Tracer likewise followed suit by
crashing into each wall on both sides by the invisible force. 
Halebit repeated the pattern a few more times until his arm went
still. 

 	'He doesn't know how to use the sword.'  Halebit thought to
himself excitedly.

	Tracer looked up at his old teacher and asked breathlessly,
"Why are you doing this to me?"  

	Halebit signed once again, "I really liked you Tracer, but
you're my rival's son." 

	"What?" Tracer spit out as silver and red liquid started to
stream down from the corner of his mouth wondering what Halebit
meant by that.

	"You see me and your father were generals in the Great War, and
your father always got in my way."  Halebit's eyes illuminated
red as he reminisced on his past.

	Tracer tried with all his strength to stand up but the
invisible force that Halebit was controlling held him down. 
Tracer felted utterly defenseless, he even couldn't reach for
his guns strapped to his waist or his shotgun on his back.  All
Tracer could do was look up at Halebit, who motioned his armor
suit soldier to give him some red crystal that fit in the palm
of his hand.  Halebit displayed it proudly to Tracer loosing his
calmness and became unusually excited;

	"You see these crystals Tracer, these are the source of my
power and are hard to find but thanks to the Society's machines
it will be an easy task now." he screamed insanely.

	Halebit swallowed the crystal and reveled in ecstasy and once
again looked at Tracer with death in his eyes, "Now I must say
goodbye to you, timelord Tracer."

	The hand that held Tracer to the floor raised him above the
floor, and then Halebit slowly closed his hand.  Tracer started
to feel intense pressure from all sides, like he was being
crushed.  The pressure force Tracer to curl up and notice
something glowing on his waist, his sword.  Halebit abruptly
stopped closing his hand and threw his hand over his head,
sending Tracer through the roof.   Halebit then violently threw
his hand forward in disgust.  Looking up at the hole Malance saw
the form of Tracer fly at the speed of sound in the direction of
downtown skyline.  Malance had seen Halebit, on occasions, kill
disloyal members with ease, thus puzzling him about Halebit's
actions;

	"General why didn't you kill the timelord?"  .

	Halebit glared at his soldier, responding in an annoyed tone,
"I just couldn't," Halebit's  tone changed to one of courtesy,
"I didn't want to leave you without the hunt."

	Under his dark visor, Malance smiled, "Thank you, General."

	The large robotic suit clicked the large cannon onto his hand
and charged up the engines on it's back and blasted through the
hole in the roof.  The old man brushed his hands through his
short white hair in frustration once his soldier was out of
sight.  

	'I must exert control.  I must not get carried away like that
or it will be fatal.'  Halebit thought to himself, 'I must have
more of the red crystals. Yes, it will help get my mind off of
this.'

	Halebit's hand ran across the smooth pieces of worn planks
until he found the right one.   He pulled it away to reveal his
secret storage compartment.  Halebit looked at his supply of red
crystals, 'It's getting low, I must get more, I must HAVE more!'

	Halebit stopped himself, once more realizing his lose of his
control.  He sat down for the moment and breathed in and out to
relaxing himself in hopes of repressing all his urges.  He sat
silently ignoring the explosions and activity down on the main
floor, infact the painful screams of dying combatants seemed to
soothe the general.

	'Nirvana will eliminate my urges.'



	Tracer shook his head, he was covered with cuts and had the
worst headache he ever had in his life.  Tracer blinked his eyes
and found himself in an expensive office, with plush leather
chair all ripped up, stained oak desk split in two, and green
glass everywhere.  Tracer brushed out the glass in his hair that
covered the rest of his body.  Tracer looked out the hole he
made and looked through the holes he had made through the other
buildings.  

	'Two?  No three?  Damn, it's a good thing I'm installed with
bio-armor.'  the battered  timelord thought.  A requirement of
all timelords to have his internal organs protected by state of
the art, thick bio-armor and his bones be replaced by biotech
metal alloys making him almost  indestructible.  Tracer cringed
as he reflected on the pain he experienced during that process,
an experience more painful than being blown through a few
buildings.  

	Then the loud sound of engines close by diverted Tracer's
attention, and his thoughts drifted quickly to his situation at
hand just in time before the cannon blast decimated the office
room.

    	"Halebit will die for his betrayal."  Tracer angerily
growled to himself, as he tossed the charred remains of the oak
desk he hid under to face his aggressor.

	Tracer sized up the metal suit to be twice his size and
probably two feet taller than him with it's body seemed to
centered around a dark visor that concealed a face.  It had a
claw on his right-hand and a charge cannon that was apart of his
left arm.    	

	"Time to die timelord."  Malance's deep voice spoke in hatred
as he aimed his cannon at Tracer.  Tracer leaped out of the way
once more as the shot blew away the front of the office
scattering debris everywhere.  From his reclining position,
Tracer pulled out his two guns strapped to his waist and
returned fire.  Malance reeled back in pain as the bullets
penetrated his armor.

	"Hurt don't they?  This isn't your run of the mill twentieth
century guns my friend, this is the state of the art timelord
weaponry!!!"  Tracer jumped to his feet and charged the
monstrosity, firing wildly.

	Malance raised his cannon once more as the black haired soldier
approached.  Fortunately, Tracer leaped upon the mechanical suit
before it could fire, and wailed upon it with a few blows until
the monstrosity retaliated with one good punch with its claw.  

	Tracer hit the floor hard as Malance chuckled, "You can't
compare to my raw power and brute force, timelord."

	Tracer found himself staring into the barrel of the cannon
aimed at down at him.  Tracer immediately rolled out of the way
of the blast, puncturing a hole in the floor.  Malance stormed
his opponent with his claw poised to strike as the timelord
continued to litter his body with bullets.  Tracer, in
anticipation, quickly flexed his hand to activate the silver
liquid, melting into a blade to block Malance's strike.  Tracer
now found himself staring at the straining face of Malance
barely visible through the dark visor, as he tried to break the
stalemate.  Tracer heard something click followed by a sound of
moving gears and, before Tracer could ponder its source, a
streaking fist slammed into his face.  Tracer flew across the
ruined office and slid off the edge where a window once existed.
 Tracer's silver blade melted to a claw and dug into the ledge,
stopping him from falling towards the street about 1000 feet
below.  Malance looked down at Tracer and clicked his charge
cannon back onto his hand aiming at Tracer's head.  Malance
smirked at the timelord;

	"You can't win, timelord, the Society is the new order." 
Malance voiced in confidence.

	"Do all of you Society bastards say that?"  Tracer grumbled as
he pushed himself against the glass building hoping to gain
momentum to go through the window a floor below.  

	'Just a little bit more momentum and. . . .' Tracer thought as
he rammed through the  fragile glass window and landed hard on
the smooth stone flooring.  Tracer found himself in a hallway in
that was lined with doors to other offices, and above him the
hole that Malance had created.  

	Malance bellowed in anger and fired up his engines and floated
down to the newly broken window.  Malance shot blast after blast
into the open window destroying the hallway's walls and some of
the offices. 

	 Malance flew forward a little after feeling satified with the
resulting destruction when Tracer out of the blue jumped upon
Malance from the open window a floor above.  Tracer pummeled the
metal monstrousity with his fists causing Malance to loose
control of his trajectory.  The pair exchanged hits, narrowly
missing highrises and skyscrapers, and finally flew erractically
back towards the abandon warehouse where a bloody battle was
still raging on.


Timelords

Part 6: The Prey's Retaliation 



	'Ahh, screams of agony, explosions, and other assorted sounds
of death.  There isn't a more pleasant sound than that of war,
heh, heh.'  Halebit thought pleasantly as he meditated.

	His enjoyment was intruded upon by the sounds of footsteps. 
Halebit opened his eyes and stared into the blond woman's wide
and accusing blue eyes.  

	"Ahh Cindy."  Halebit said in a relaxed tone.

	"I remind you again sir to call me, Xendyte," Xendyte resisted
from sneering at her high commander as she replied back as
unemtional as possible, "I have come to give you status on our
soldiers.  They are keeping the timelords at bay, for the
moment."

	"Good."  Halebit had mastered the art of coldly communicating
he was pleased.

	Xendyte noticed the indentions in the walls, the large crack in
the floor, and the huge hole in the roof prompting her to ask,
"What happened here?"

	Xendyte's ignorance to refer to Halebit as 'General' greatly
annoyed him.  He thought that she would have never gotten as
high up the heirarchy of the Society if it wasn't for her father
being the Counsule's chief technician of sheild techlogoy and
other advanced defensive weaponry.  Halebit made her second in
command sharing the postion with Malance, even though he felt
Malance should be the next in line as general.   Still even
after Halebit graciously gave her such a high postion she still
would not recognize him as her superior.  Halebit had no
tolerance for defiance in any form.   He felt sure that Malance
would be able to deal with her if she should become insolent,
but for right now he had to deal with it. 

	The two became silent for a moment when Halebit, with a trance
of intrigue in his voice, broke the silence, "You know how you
always keep asking me what were the names of the timelords that 
killed your family?"

	"Yes, what does that have to do with anything?"  Xendyte said
holding back her hurt and anger as the soft spoken words cut
into her soul, greatly antagonizing her.

	"A timelord named Tracer, a former pupil of mine, was
instrumental in their death.  And he was here just a moment ago
trying to finish the job."  the aged man motioned his head
towards the damage to the room, "Malance is taking care of him
right now."

	Xendyte openly glared at her commander and she looked out over
the sky line and attempted to leave when an invisible force held
her back.  Halebit looked at her innocently.

	"No child.  If perchance he escapes from Malance, I'll grant
you the opprotunity to have your revenge, but now you are needed
right here."  Halebit's voice pleaded but his words commanded.

	More sounds of carnage heard below reminded them why they were
here.  Halebit looked at the blond knowingly as he signed in
satisfaction, "Ahh.  The timelords are in position.  Xendyte,
you  know what to do with the machine."

	The blond nodded and walked away with true angst in her eyes as
Halebit sat back down on the cold smooth concrete floor to
resume his meditation as he thought;

	 'Now the trap is set.'



	Outside of the El Mercado, two opposing forces were at war. 
Men in black outfits were storming the old warehouse while
others in heavy armor inside picked them off with laser rifles
and pulse guns.  The unmoving bodies of combatants strune around
the dilapidated warehouse as more joined them.  Tracer saw this
scene in fleeting glimpses as he beat upon the large metallic
suit flying around erractically.  Tracer had managed to tear off
the metal sheet covering the shoulder and created some gashes in
other parts of the body.  Yet, at the same time, Tracer was
taking some abuse from the monstrousity with its claw, causing
glancing wounds to his midsection, chest, and arms.  Tracer
noticed that they were in a few feet above a street and laser
fire whizzed passed them, then he realized they were flying
towards the. . . . 

	Crash!!!!!  Malance and Tracer flew through brittle wall of the
El Mercado.  The force of impact seperated Tracer from Malance,
and Tracer landed right in the crossfire of both sides as
Timelords and Society soldiers were fighting face to face and
hand to hand, oblivious to Tracer lying on the ground.  With
Malance no where in sight, Tracer went into the next order of
business of finding Xendyte before she was captured or escaped. 
He needed to know what the function of these machines were, and
why were they so important to the Society.  Tracer looked around
quickly and found the door to the basement, and made a run for
it with guns drawn.  Tracer shot anyone who got in his way
without second thought.  Once upon reaching the door, he kicked
it in.  Two guards were waiting at the foot of the stairs below
and shot in response to the opening door.  Tracer reacted by
ackwardly rolling down the stairs to aviod their fire.  Tracer
stopped at their feet and shot up towards their abdomen filling
them with one good round of bullets each.  The two guards
collapsed to the ground as Tracer got up in disgust and
replenished his guns with cartriges.  Tracer searched the stuffy
and humid basement until he spied a long blond pony tail near
the control panel.  Tracer flexed his right hand activating the
silver claw, and snuck up behind the woman who was making the
final adjustments to the panel on the enormous machine.  He spun
her around grabbing her by the throat with his left hand, and
held his claw above her face threatenly.

	"I need information pronto!!"  Tracer growled as some silver
and red liquid dripped down from his brow.

	The woman's icy blue eyes pierced into the soul of the black
haired timelord and asked calmly, "Are you timelord Tracer?"

	Tracer was taken back by her calm reaction and couldn't help
but respond bluntly, "Yes."

	Immediately the blond's eyes narrowed in anger and kneed the
black haired timelord in the groin.  As Tracer doubled over,
Xendyte slammed her fist hard into his jaw.  Tracer stumbled
back in surprise as he thought, 'Damn it, she caught me off
guard.'

	Tracer glanced towards the blond who was in mid flight with her
leg extended.  Tracer blocked her leg with ease, and swung his
leg around for a backwards roundhouse to the middle of the
blond's back.  Xendyte fell to the ground and Tracer leaped upon
her with his claw pulled back ready to strike.  

	"I should kill you right now for that cheap shot!!"  Tracer
shouted as he cringed a little in reflection.

	"Go ahead and kill me then."  the blond's face was calm but her
blue eyes pleaded with Tracer.

	Tracer wanted to oblige but he stopped, he couldn't kill her. 
Those imploring blue eyes begged his subconcious to spare her. 
'I understand her pain.  She wants to avenge her suffering and
I'm the closest thing to it.'  a voice in Tracer's mind
reasoned.  

	Tracer shook his head and he argrued the idea in his head, 'But
she is part of the Society, she must be eliminated.'

	The blond looked up in puzzlement, was the timelord going to
kill her or not?  He was hesitating, and his face was full of
confliction.  The sound of engines caught Xendyte's attention,
and a split second later the large metal arm of Malance sent
Tracer flying.  Xendyte quickly stood up, taking aim with her
laser gun that was strapped to her hip as Tracer stumbled to his
feet.  Tracer focused his attention on his last attacker who was
making another pass towards him, while Xendyte aimed and shot
Tracer straight through his knee cap.  Tracer immediately
collapsed as Malance racked his claw across Tracer's face
causing the silver and red blood to spill upon his black jumper.
  Tracer screamed in pain as Xendyte shot him again, this time
through his shoulder blade.  Angst consumed Tracer as he growled
at Xendyte and Malance;

	"I'm going to kill you both, I swear it!!!"   

	In reply, an invisible force threw Tracer onto the panel on the
machine.  Tracer beheld the glowing red palm of his old
teacher's hand.  The old man's face was solemn and cold as he
said in a calculated tone, "I'm sorry Tracer but we must be
leaving you."

	Xendyte gave her superior a worried glance and ignored the
struggling timelord as she voiced her concern, "Are you sure
that the others will get out through the sheild?"

	Malance glared at the blond for her rudeness as Halebit just
stared at his old pupil, "I'm sure they will, if not they are
but casualties in the game of war."

	All three were engulfed in light and disappeared before Xendyte
could protest, leaving Tracer bonded by an invisible force to
the large machine.  The vibrations and noises of moving gears
indicating to Tracer the machine was working at a virgorous
pace.  Too vigorous.  In fact vigorous enough to cause a
meltdown, and meltdown of a machine of this magnitude would
destroy the whole warehouse full of timelords.  

	'This damn thing's a huge bomb!!'  Tracer thought causing his
struggles to become more urgent.  Yet all of Tracer's efforts
were not enough and Tracer bent his head down in dispair.  While
Tracer looked down at his feet he saw the sword glowing
brightly.  The invisible force that held Tracer to the machine
mysteriously relieved its hold on him letting him land on the
floor.  Tracer grimaced in pain as he limped towards the bottom
of the stairs, where he heard the groans of one of the guards he
shot.  Tracer picked him up and shook the injured guard aware to
his presence.

	"Alright I'm going to make you a deal, tell me how to get
through the sheild and I'll save your life."  Tracer shouted
desperately over the loud sound of the straining, grinding gears.

	The guard had a fearless expression and laughed in the
timelord's blood stained face, "Ha! You can't use death to
imtimidate me!  The sheild is impenetrable!  We all are going to
die, so that the Society may succeed!  Ha! Ha! Ha!"

	Tracer stared into space in dispair as the guard continued his
taunting, "You've got 15 seconds, any comments and criticisms of
our trap?  Okay, let me tell you about the irony of this
situation, you guys came here thinking that you'd trap us when
really we trapped you.  Ha. Ha!"

	Tracer ignored the guard for the time being and scanned the
area for any possible ways out as his growled under breath, "I
am going to make you pay, Halebit." 

	The guard heard this as he ranted on, "Oh that's the truely
ironic part that if the smallest possiblity you'd escape you'd
never find him, he could be in any of hundreds of dimesions of
Earth alone!"

	Tracer gave the guard the death stare as the guard smiled one
last time as he said his farewell, "Adios and see you in hell
timelord."

	Before Tracer could reply, the machine wailed and exploded,
obliterating the entire warehouse and its occupants.

Timelords

 Part 7: Miracles of Nature



	Signs of destivastation were all around.  Smoldering debris was
the only thing left of the El Mercado.  Pipes stuck out
ackwardly from jagged pieces of cement that were once walls that
piled up in random locations.  Under one of these piles
something stirred, something survived.   Then it paused until it
realized its existience and pushed against the weight of rumble 
more and more when it at last broke free.  A dirty, tired, and
angry Tracer glared into the eyes of the bewildered Society
guard that meakly glanced into the burning eyes of the timelord.

	"WHERE.  ARE.   THEY."  Tracer bellowed as he grabbed the
collar of the guard.  

	As the guard made a terrible mistake and was going to suffer,
he began to cry.  Tracer saw the man's crying as insubordination
and with everything else that happened to him this night made
him snap.  Tracer in a fury of anger began screaming at the man
while punching the man hard repeatedly.

	"Wheredidtheygo!? HUH!?  Wheredidtheygo!!!!??"  Tracer's words
came quickly as he unmercilessly continued to beat upon the man.

	The man finally began losing conciousness and began to talk
with his mouth full of silver, red blood.  Tracer stopped his
beating when he realized the man was trying to talk.

	"Moo. . . Moon."  he finally managed to say before his eyes
rolled to the back of his head.

	"What?"  Tracer breathed out as he pondered a moment until he
he tried to shake the man concious, "What in hell are you
talking about?  What Moon?  Huh?  Which Moon?  Moon who?"

	Tracer let go of the man, realizing he wasn't going to get him
anywhere.  He pulled out his gun and shot the man point blank in
the forehead.  Tracer then did something unusual, he started to
tremble and felt something roll down his bloody cheek.

	'Must be an open wound.'  Tracer rationalized and got up
wearily.

	Before Tracer could take two steps a bright light appeared in
front of him.  Tracer sheilded his eyes until it diminished and
revealed to be an old man with a white goatee and long white
hair in a dusty cloak.

	"Briar?"  Tracer asked ferociously and lashed out at the old
man, "What in hell are you doing here, huh?  Doing a salvage
run, old man?"

	Tracer was waving his gun in Briar's direction dangerously. 
The old man just gave Tracer a serious and disapointed look, as
Briar retorted, "Tracer why did you kill that man?  He didn't
deserve a fate like that."

	"Huh?"  Tracer was slightly caught off guard by the old man's
serious attitude, "He was a bedamned Society member, Briar!! 
That's a reason enough for his fate, and if you aggrivate me
anymore I'll blow your freaking brains to the next dimesion like
him."

	Briar fixed his eyes at Tracer and continued, "Tracer right now
you need allies.  Considering that your loyalties to the
Counsule are shaky after looking into their private archives and
that you don't know where you're ex-teacher has left to. Yes, I
do believe you need one."

	Tracer's mouth dropped, "Ho-how did you-"

	"Did I know that?  Tracer I'm a prophet.  I've known this was
going to happen a long time coming.  I know what there is to
know about you and the universe."  the old man said seriously
with just a hint of pride in his voice.

	Tracer looked at his friend in amazement, then Tracer realized
something, "You knew about all of this all the time!  You knew
that he-  and that this would-, grrrrrrrr!"

	The old man noticed the increasing frustration in Tracer's
voice and tried to downplay it, "Tracer, I knew those things
would happen, but I couldn't prevent them or risk something
worst happening in their place.  All those times I wanted to say
something when I couldn't, I had to deal with it as best as I
could.  That is why I gave you that sword, to protect you from
being destroyed."

	Tracer looked down at the sword still strapped to his hip,
still glowing brightly, "You mean this kept me from getting
blown up and from getting crushed by Halebit?"

	Briar nodded his head and continued in a comforting voice,
"Yes, and it does much more."

	"Like what?"  Tracer asked excitedly gazing at the sword.

	"That is something that you'll have to figure out on your own."
 Briar answered as Tracer stared at him in irritation.

	Tracer paused and returned his gaze at the sword and said,
"You're a prophet, right?"

	"Correct."  Briar said in anticipation of the follow-up
question.

	"Then tell me where that bastard Halebit is."  Tracer demanded
as he looked at the old man with murder in his eyes. 

	Briar wearily answered, "Look into the middle jewel Tracer."

	Tracer sneered in dismay, but did what Briar suggested.  Tracer
stared into the red jewel until all he could see was red, he
felt his mind getting pulled into the sword.  He was searching
for one thing and he suddenly trusted that the sword would
reveal it.  He wanted to know where Halebit was going.  The red
faded from his vision and a hazy vision came to him, a vision of
a goddess, a blond goddess with two ponytails that came from two
small spheres on her head.  The goddess was looking down into
her hands clasped in her lap, drawing his vision towards it.  It
was something that was emmiting white light, good, wholesome
white light.  It was a crystal. . .  a silver crystal.

	Tracer snapped out of the trance and dropped his sword in
astounishment as he said, "The Imperium Silver Crystal Time
Stream?"

	"Good, Tracer."  Briar said solemnly.

	Tracer eagerly picked up the sword and beamed happily at Briar
as he said, "I'm going there and shoving this sword right up
his-"

	"Wait a second Tracer."  something in Briar's voice made Tracer
stop dead in his tracks, "You shouldn't be so reckless, it will
be your ultimate downfall.  You have to stand back and observe
before you act."

	There was a pause and Briar continued, "It's the only way
you'll defeat Halebit."

	Tracer looked at Briar questionably, prompting Briar to say,
"I'm a prophet, Tracer, trust me."

	Tracer smiled wearily as he responded, "Alright Briar, for some
God forsaken reason I trust you and I will take your advice. 
Mind you only until I see it isn't working."

	Tracer started to walk away when Briar stopped him once more,
"Oh, by the way, Tracer you'll need need a helping hand against
Halebit."

	Tracer whizzed around to see Briar produce a bag of round
objects and Tracer curiously walked over to the old man.  When
Tracer was close enough Briar reached into the bag to produce a
black round object.  

	"This is an anti-matter bomb.  All you have to do is put your
palms on opposite sides of this line and twist."  Briar
explained as he pointed out a crevise on the ball, "Then you'll
have about 10 seconds to get as far away as possible.  It
produces one spectular explosion."

	Tracer gave Briar an inquizsitive look, making Briar respond
nervously, "What?"

	"Why are you giving me this, after that big talk?"  Tracer
asked suspiciously.

	"C'mon.  Be glad I'm bending the rules of prophecy for you." 
Briar said defensively.

	Tracer shook his head at this and got ready to travel to his
next destination.

	"Oh and Tracer take care of that sword, it's your heritage." 
Briar smiled knowingly.   

	"Wha-"  Tracer was cut off as a brilliant light engulfed him,
indicating his exit.  

	Once Tracer disappeared, Briar signed in relief as he started
to talk to the air next to him.

	"I hope he developes his morals quickly.  Or they're all
doomed."

	A ghostly voice responded with the wind, "You know it will
happen.  Why are you doubting it?"

	Briar looked at the rumble he was standing on and desolation
surrounding him, confirming he was alone.  He then answered, "I
just wonder how many are going to suffer before he does,
Overlord."

	The voice was faint but distintive as it whipsered, "Not to
worry, Briar, he has the sword.  It will guide him as it did you
and your son, Trekker." 



The End. . .  



Has Yet to Come




Well anyone want to guess where I'm going with this?  Uh-huh.
Anyway all original characters are owned by me, Bastion, any others
are owned by DEeek! and Naoko Takeuchi [if you don't know by now. . .]
As always send any comments and I'll be happy to send people requests
for past parts.  
Thanks once more for reading, good night everybody!

Bastion