True Believers: Part Eighteen
With a weary sigh, Dana sank back into the soft cushions of the couch. The middle of the night, and I'm as wide-awake as if it were noon, she thought ruefully. Her head ached, a persistent, low-level throbbing that wouldn't go away. There'd been entirely too much turmoil in the psychic atmosphere today, even for an empath with reinforced shields. Her body wanted to go back to her room, lock the door, and collapse, but her mind wouldn't stop racing. Besides, she wasn't the only one still up. She could feel her teammates, their generally unsettled state. And, as much as she tried to rationalize it, she couldn't help thinking that it was at least partly her fault.
Rubbing her temples, she closed her eyes for a moment, trying one of the relaxation techniques Cable had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago. But she couldn't clear her mind, no matter how hard she tried. Damn it, if I'd only waited, she thought wearily. Let everyone cool down a little first-
But she hadn't. As soon as the plane had taken off, she'd turned to Scott and Jean, right there, and brought up Kitty's concerns. Dana had felt how strongly Cable and Jean had been projecting, so Kitty's theory had made entirely too much sense to her. Disturbed by the possibility, her only thought had been to figure out whether Kitty had been right, and the two telepaths had been influencing those around them.
She hadn't expected Jean's reaction. Even when Dana had pointed out she wasn't implying that either of them had done it deliberately, Jean had continued to act like she'd accused her of something unspeakably vile. Then, Scott, who'd been ominously silent through all of this, had lost his temper and started shouting. At Jean.
Dana sighed again. He had to have been thinking along the same likes as Kitty, she thought. I wonder why Jean didn't sense that? To make it worse, Dana had forgotten that Rogue was standing right there. It wasn't as if Rogue had been eavesdropping, after all. Kind of hard not to 'overhear' Scott bellowing at the top of his lungs. She'd gotten into the argument, too, accusing Jean of letting her maternal instincts run on overdrive. With three of them at it, Dana had nearly lost her shields. Fortunately, Sam had played diplomat, convincing them to settle down and take the discussion inside.
Where, true to Murphy's Law, Nate Grey and Cecilia had been waiting, Nate almost indecently eager to tell everyone about his earlier encounter with Cable. About how Nathan had apparently mistaken him for Stryfe.
With an exasperated growl, Dana opened her eyes. It's a good thing Scott pulled rank, or Jean would have hooked herself up to Cerebro and tried to track Cable's plane down. And Hank hadn't helped, coming in midway through the conversation and wondering aloud if Cable might be hallucinating. That was kind of pessimistic, on his part- no, I don't see it. Cable seemed rational to me. Mad as hell and tired, which is why he might have mistaken Nate for Stryfe for just a second-particularly if Nate really was stupid enough to go into his mind, after everything that's happened today. But Hank's speculations had just upset Jean more, which had made Nate get overprotective, for some reason, and start snarling at Hank. And it had just gone on and on, everyone in the mansion eventually getting into it. And all because I didn't keep my damned mouth shut!
Then again, the 'why of any situation'- Dana groaned. "Great," she muttered. It wasn't that she didn't love Cable dearly, and appreciate all the training he'd given her, but she did wish that he'd kept his damned Askani proverbs to himself. They had the most irritating habit of getting stuck in your head.
"Dana?" She looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway, regarding her concernedly. "You all right?" he asked softly, keeping his voice low, as if he knew she had a headache. Dana wondered dismally if she was projecting.
"How come you're still up?" she finally asked.
"Too wired t'sleep," he said with a faint smile. He came over and sat beside her on the couch, putting his arm around her. "So," he said casually. "Any particular reason why you've got that 'ah'm too stupid t'live' expression on your face?"
She laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh. "I screwed up, Guthrie," she said forlornly. "I was so determined to get things out in the open, and all I ended up doing was throwing more fuel on the fire."
"You did what y'thought was right," Sam said stolidly. "'Sides, it needed t'be said, Danes. No point in beatin' around the bush, and not smart just to pretend it didn't happen."
Dana squirmed, restlessly. "Maybe, but I could've handled it better. We needed to take a step back from it, all of us, to get our perspective back. I should have seen that, Sam! Instead I went blundering in, and I probably just made things worse-" Embarassingly, she felt close to tears.
Sam's arm tightened around her, and she felt nothing but reassurance and love radiating from him. "You're not the team psychologist, Dana," he pointed out, then gave a wry laugh. "Lord knows, ah think we need one, somedays, but you shouldn't try t'take on all that responsibility. That's your problem, y'know? You're always tryin' t'fix things."
"And you shouldn't try to be the wise old sage, Guthrie," she grumbled, actually beginning to feel better. Intellectually, she knew it wasn't all her fault, but it was tough to convince yourself of that when everyone's emotions were hammering at you. "You don't have enough gray in your hair to pull it off." She sighed again, and relaxed against him. "'Healer, know when to quit'?" she quipped lightly, and Sam threw back his head and laughed. Dana grinned.
"Look who's talkin', Hawkes," he scoffed. "You sound like Cable, adaptin' quotes-"
"Oh, is that the polite euphemism?" she chuckled. After she'd returned to the mansion from Muir Island, to heal Cable after the battle with the Marauders in Alberta, she and Domino had gotten rather close. Or as close as Domino lets herself get to anyone she doesn't know all that well, Dana corrected herself with a flash of amusement. Domino had tried so hard to be the strong, supportive, eternally cheerful one while Cable was recovering that she'd started focusing on his needs too much, and neglecting her own. Dana had broached the subject, delicately, and been a little surprised when Domino had not only not bitten her head off, but had started to make a habit of coming and talking things over with her when the tension grew a little too wearing. Dana wasn't sure why-maybe it had been that first conversation they'd had, at Cable's bedside while he was still in the coma, or maybe Domino had settled on her as someone who was both uninvolved (more or less) and discreet.
Dana had found herself liking Domino a great deal, and thought that the feeling was reciprocated, at least a little. Domino was, after all, very difficult to read-even for an empath. But they'd had a number of long, involved conversations about life, love and everything in between, before Domino and Cable had ended up 'vacationing' in Alaska. During one of those conversations, Domino had mentioned Nathan's little 'problem' with idiom. Dana could remember ever laughing as hard as she had at the examples Domino had given her.
Sam grinned down at her. "Why not? Ah mean, he does get the sense of things, usually-what are you giggling' for, Hawkes?"
Dana snickered helplessly. "The sense of things? Sam, you do listen to him, don't you?"
He considered the question for a moment. "Well, yeah, I suppose you're right." His grin grew wider. "Shatterstar's even worse than him, if you can believe that, but at least he's got the excuse of havin' learned English in the normal way." Sam snorted. "Ah don't think ah'll ever forget the time he told us he didn't want t'rain on our 'charade' Heck, even Cable looked at him sideways, that time." He fell silent, and Dana frowned, sensing a sudden, odd moodiness from him. "Wonder what he and the rest are up to, these days."
"Sam?" she asked softly. "You miss them, don't you? X-Force, I mean."
He shifted, and she felt the tension in his body. "Nah, ah'm sure they're fine," he said evasively, and Dana rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to point out that she hadn't asked him if he was worried about his former team. "But ah suppose-ah mean, we were a team for so long." He sighed deeply. "Alright, Dana, y'got me. Ah miss them. Heck, just 'cause we're all mutant outlaws doesn't mean we shouldn't stay in touch, don't y'think?"
Dana didn't answer, but inwardly, she was kicking herself for not realizing this earlier. Now that she thought back on it, Sam tended to change the subject whenever X-Force came up. Cable does the same thing, too-that's interesting. Domino, on the other hand, had always been more than willing to talk about X-Force, although she had tactfully avoided the subject of Tabitha unless Dana brought her up first. Interesting contrast, the way the three of them react-
She was still casting around for something to say to Sam when the lights flickered. They both straightened, looking around in confusion.
"That shouldn't be happening," Dana said warily, just as it happened again. She frowned. "I thought Hank had gotten everything back on line?"
"He did," Sam said, sounding distracted. "C'mon," he continued, rising. "Let's go see what's up. Ah sure hope the sleeper program didn't get triggered again by accident."
She got up and followed him. They had gotten only halfway across the room when the power went down and stayed down. Dana heard Sam curse.
"Dana?" he said. Focusing on her empathic impression of him, she walked forward cautiously until she reached him. "Aw, heck," he growled as she took his hand and squeezed it. "If this is the blasted sleeper program again, we're gonna have t'listen to Bishop bitch and complain about how 'irresponsible' Cable is for the next year-"
Dana opened her mouth to answer him when she heard a dull, rumbling noise. "Sam?" she asked hesitantly, sensing his alarm.
"Ah hear it too. What-"
The world seemed to go mad. Dana was suddenly gripped by vertigo. She thought she still had a grip on Sam's hand, but she couldn't tell. Her empathy seemed to be working overtime. She felt-invitation, something beckoning to her, insistent yet curiously detached. And most definitely not human. Dana flinched away from it, terrified by the vastness she sensed, the power-but it didn't want to take no for an answer, it pulled at her, like an angler reeling in a fish-
Someone was shaking her, calling her name. Dana opened her eyes and blinked up at Sam. The concern on his face was as clear as day, even in the ruddy glow of the emergency lights.
"How'd I get on the floor?" she asked hoarsely, still trembling in reaction. My God-I don't ever want to feel anything like that again, ever- She felt Sam's relief, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
"Ah have no idea!" he said agitatedly, his accent twice as strong as usual. "The lights went off, y'came over to me, ah heard that sound like thunder, and then you just screamed and fell over."
"Screamed?" She let him help her up-she didn't think she could have gotten to her feet by herself. Damn-still shaky, she thought, leaning on him without reservation.
"Yeah. You said 'No, I don't want it'." He peered down at her worriedly. "What did you mean? You sounded so scared, but kinda angry, too."
"I don't know, Sam," Dana admitted awkwardly. "I'll try and remember-but we should go and see what's happened."
"Dana, ah-"
"Please, Sam," she said imploringly, trying very hard to stop shaking. "Just let it drop for a bit-please?"
His face was a study, but he finally nodded, his reluctance so obvious that it didn't take empathy to notice it, and helped her towards the door with a soliticiousness that would have irritated her, under normal circumstances. They were barely out of the room when the power came back on and Scott's voice over the intercom ordered everyone to report to the War Room.
They were the last to arrive. Dana winced as they walked it and the agitation of her teammates slammed into her overstressed shields. She saw the expression on Sam's face tighten, and she gave him her best effort at a reassuring smile. But he walked her right over to her chair, and Dana was glad the one beside it was empty. If it'd had an occupant, she was fairly sure that Sam would have summarily evicted the unlucky person.
Dana looked across the table at Jean, who was as white as a ghost, the look in her eyes unfocused. She reached out tentatively, projecting her concern, and Jean's expression sharpened.
#You felt it too.# It wasn't a question, but Dana nodded anyways, relieved that it hadn't been some kind of hallucination on her part. Jean sent a wordless request, and Dana opened her mind, letting the telepath share her experience. #Thank you,# Jean finally said, and the apology she sent along with her thanks made Dana nod again.
Don't worry about it, she sent back softly. Even as their silent exchange ended, the argument was continuing around them. Bishop, naturally assuming that the culprit was Cable's sleeper program, launched into another lecture on security. Rogue threatened him with a broken jaw if he didn't shut up, and Hank, uncharacteristically abrupt, cut them both off.
"The sleeper program is inactive," he said bluntly. "In any case, it only attacked specific systems, if I may point that out, so it could hardly be the cause of the problem. All our systems were out for approximately two minutes before the Shi'ar failsafe brought them back on line."
"No sensor data?" Bishop snapped, and Hank gave him a reproachful look.
"Did I say that, my overbearing friend?" That had a definite bite to it, and Dana blinked in surprise. Bishop looked taken aback, and Dana felt a flash of amusement from Hank just before he continued. "After Magneto's EMP wave, I designed a subprogram that sets the sensors, both passive and active, to begin scanning as soon as an interruption in power is over. When our systems came back on line, they immediately picked up this." Hank leaned over, and brought up a three-dimensional holographic map of eastern North America.
Moving across it was something that looked like nothing more than a green tidal wave. Dana gasped. Hers was not the only expression of surprise at the table, although everyone else managed to limit themselves to startled look. Dana sensed a great deal of chagrin-apparently there had been a few X-Men who'd thought Cable had hallucinated, imagined, or made up the whole thing.
"It's only a representation, of course," Hank continued steadily, "but I think we can all draw the same conclusion from this."
Bobby blinked. "I'll be damned. One of Cable's temporal waves? Hank, if it is, how come you couldn't pick it up before?"
Scott was muttering to himself. "Out of phase," he finally said, looking over at Hank. "That's what Nathan said, they were out of phase." A lot of the chagrin Dana sensed was coming from him. "Damn it, I should have asked him what he meant by that-"
Bishop looked alarmed. Dana frowned, sensing something she'd never felt from him before. Near-panic. "And this one is not? What does that mean, Henry?"
Hank managed to look irritated. "Frankly, Bishop, I have no idea. I don't even know why our systems fluttered like that. The Shi'ar elements seem to be working perfectly, but I'm still reading irregularities in most of our-native equipment, for lack of a better word."
"I absorbed none of the energy," Bishop said, sounding almost ashamed. "I should have-you might have been able to learn a great deal. But it was past before I even thought to make the attempt."
"Oh, stop kicking yourself!" Bobby snapped. "If you had, Bishop, it probably would've knocked you on your rear." The taller man glowered at him, but Bobby didn't give an inch. "Remember when we fought Legion?"
Hank was muttered under his breath. "I do wish Nate hadn't returned to New York-perhaps he could have helped us understand this. After all, he should have the same chronal-variant abilities as Cable."
Dana blinked, dazed, as she suddenly got two very strong empathic readings. One was from Cecilia, and it was clearly directed at Hank. She doesn't think he's right-why? But she's not sure what to tell him-she's been put off by all the arguing today, and she doesn't want to start it up again.
The other was from Bishop. His earlier fear, mingled with realization, uncertainty, and then, a curious sort of determination. And what's his problem? Dana thought helplessly, trying to focus on him. All she got was a more intense impression of his emotions- wait, what's that? Dana closed her eyes, dizzied as a ghost-like image danced in her vision.
What the hell-what's happening? She focused in on the image. It came from him, I'm sure of it-bound up in the empathic impression, somehow. But what-
GINA?
Dana gave Bishop a sharp look. What on earth was going on? Why did he think of Gina when Hank brought up chronal-variant abilties?
#Dana?# she heard Jean asked sharply. #What is it?#
Ah-nothing important, Dana lied, strengthening her shields and hoping that Jean didn't notice. Bishop's just a little upset, that's all--
Jean said nothing more, and Dana forced herself to turn her attention back to the discussion. Joseph was speaking now, playing 'voice of reason'.
"I do not see what we can do about this, Henry," he said. "None of us have the neccessary ability to stop these waves. Even Cable was unable to do so, according to Domino. We should continue to track this one, certainly, and watch for any more-"
"Unfortunately, Joseph, there's an added complication," Hank said gravely. He made some sort of adjustment to the map, and Dana blinked as another layer was added to the image.
"Playing weather-boy, Hank?" Bobby cracked half-heartedly.
"Robert-" Hank said warningly. "This is no laughing matter. As you can see by the radar images I have just added to our visual display here, the weather, if you will forgive the colloquialism, is about to wake up on the wrong side of the bed." Uncomprehending silence greeted his announcement, and Hank sighed. "Heavens, don't tell me you actually want the detailed explanation? Very well. The temporal wave has had a number of unexpected side effects. Our sensors are picking up severe atmospheric disturbances. The temperature of the Atlantic appears to be rising a few degrees in place, falling in others." Rogue opened her mouth and closed it with a snap. "And this is just the very beginning. To put it simply, Mother Nature is going beserk."
Bishop growled something under his breath. "And Storm is wasting her time with Cable," he rumbled. "If he had not coopted her help on this wild-goose chase of his-"
It was at that moment that Sam lost his temper. Dana sensed it coming, and wasn't particularly surprised by it-he had kept an impressively level head through all the nonsense this afternoon, but self-control didn't last forever and Sam was far from the passive type-but it still hit her with a great deal of force, nearly buckling her shields.
"What in God's name is the matter with you?" he shouted at Bishop, who gave him a surprised look. Dana managed to hold her shields, and did a little hasty 'repair' work as Sam continued. "It was Storm's choice to go! Hers, not Cable's! Hell, he didn't even want her along, you-you-"
"Sam, calm down," Dana said swiftly, before he could settle on what insult to hurl at Bishop. She tried to project soothing emotions, but he was having none of it.
"To hell with calmin' down!" he shouted, not even looking at her. "We got a real problem, here!" He cast an accusing look around the table. "Cable's doin' what he thinks he has to, no thanks to any of you! Now, are we gonna play pass the buck, or are we gonna do what needs doin'?"
"An excellent point, Samuel," Hank said quietly, breaking the awkward silence. "To which I would add two more. One, the wave is moving east-to-west, so Storm is probably already well aware of its aftereffects. Two, those aftereffects are so widespread, I doubt even our resident weather-goddess could do much else but try and cope with them." He gave Bishop a stern look. "We have no way to contact them until they contact us first, so we must assume that Storm-and the others-will do what they can where they are." He gave a weary sigh. "I've already used my credentials as an Avenger to alert the appropriate authorities on our side of the pond. As for us-we should stand ready to assist. Some of us, at least, have abilities that might be useful if things become bad." His gaze lingered on Jean for a moment. "I doubt our outlawed status will make a great deal of difference if, for example, our resident telekinetic is able to reinforce a dam stressed by floodwaters."
"We're already sent out an emergency transmission to the other X-teams, Alpha Flight, the Avengers, and the Fantastic Four," Scott continued crisply, in full 'leader-mode'. "We're waiting for responses right now. If we coordinate, we can respond to situations that might require specialized assistance with greater flexibility."
"What are we facing, Henry?" Joseph asked grimly. "How 'bad' is it likely to get?"
Hank gave him a limp smile. "Would that we could tell for certain, Joseph, but we'll have to wait to see the effects." The radar images continued to change, far too quickly. Dana knew next to nothing about meteorology, and even she knew that much. "The next twenty-four hours should tell the tale. I suspect it will be very bad indeed. And if another one of these temporal waves descends upon us-"
Silence, as everyone contemplated the possibility. It was broken only when one of the screens on the other side of the room flickered and then came to life, displaying an image of a red-haired young woman a few years older than Dana. She recognized the face instantly; Siryn, X-Force's current team leader.
"Are ye picking up this transmission, Henry?" Theresa Cassidy asked, sounding agitated. Hank immediately bounded over to the screen. Scott followed, and together, they filled Siryn in on the situation.
Dana glanced up at Sam, who had started to get up and then stopped himself. He clearly wanted to talk to Terry, but she sensed a curious mixture of reluctance and embarassment from him. "Well," she said softly, "at least you don't have to worry about where X-Force is anymore."
He glanced at her, looking surprised, and then reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly. Dana smiled faintly at him, and then put aside her personal thoughts, focusing on the problem at hand.
***
Though she was almost too weary to stand, Hana forced herself to teleport yet again, desperate to stay ahead of her pursuer. Wasted effort, perhaps, considering who was behind her, but Hana had a mission to complete, she couldn't simply give up. Not out of fear- never out of fear! she thought savagely.
The Circle had considered countless scenarios, an endless number of variables that might affect her mission. That the Mother Askani might send back another agent had been foreseen, but no one, not even for a moment, had guessed who that agent would be. The woman chasing Hana now would, in her own future and Hana's and this timeline's past, would sacrifice her life to rescue the infant Dayspring and send him safely through time. But before that, the Askani once known as Tyris had been the finest of a select group of battle-trained sisters. She had fought alongside the Guards in the sporadic rebellions that had marked the latter part of Apocalypse's reign; fought, and been so feared by the High Lord's dog soldiers that they had considered her a demon.
All of which made Hana's situation more than a little problematic. Even if she managed to take the advantage fighting Tyris-which was by no means ensured, and frankly, quite unlikely-she could do very little permanent harm to her without risking the timeline. There had been no one else left in the Mother Askani's fold who would have been capable of retrieving the child at the neccessary time-
Hana popped back into normal space in a field of head-high plants set in neat rows. Corn, her memory implant supplied, but she ignored it. Staring up at the cloudy night sky, she scanned in all directions for any trace of Tyris. She found nothing, and a wild hope leaped up inside her. She'd used every trick she'd been taught to extend her in-transit time and mask her destination. Had she been successful? Did I actually lose her?
Just as she prepared to teleport again, forming in her mind the image of one of the sanctuaries the retrocognitives had established for her before her passage back, something slammed into her from behind, throwing her to the ground. Moving with the momentum, Hana rolled and came back to her feet. Shaking her head to clear it, she flung a TK shield around herself and winced at the pain in her back. Bruises, perhaps worse. Blocking the pain, she stared defiantly at Tyris, who stood a short distance away, the air around her glowing a bright indigo. Her 'sister' smiled at her cheerfully.
"Sloppiness," she said in the battle language, her voice mild but laced with contempt. Hana straightened, determined not to show a moment's weakness, but Tyris's smile only grew. It was a predator's smile, lazy but anticipatory at the same time. "This is going to be exceptionally dull work if you don't put up a better fight than this."
Inwardly, Hana seethed with indignation at the confidence implicit in her words. "I am not such an easy target!" she snapped, hoping Tyris didn't see through her bravado. With all this teleporting, her reserves were dangerously low. Tyris, on the other hand, had to be fresh, or nearly so. If she had been concerned with conserving energy, she would never have launched a telekinetic attack like the one that had knocked Hana over. Something like that was very wasteful, energy-wise.
"Oh, but you are," Tyris said softly. "Once you're out in the open, you are. You're one of your mistress's spiders, Hana. You hide in the shadows and spin webs. You manipulate and deceive-you don't have the strength or the courage to fight fairly!" Tyris didn't raise her voice, but she'd dropped all pretense at good humor, and Hana's empathy picked up on the cold rage leaking out from behind her shields. "You and all your kind sicken me, traitor."
The indigo glow around her grew brighter, more intense, until it was almost paiful to look at. Desperately, Hana tried to reinforce her shields, but Tyris gestured contemptuously in her direction. A tightly-focused, incredibly powerful telekinetic blow smashed right through her defenses. The impact lifted her into the air, throwing her backwards. Hitting the ground hard, she lay there, dazed.
Blinking up at the night sky, she wondered dimly how she'd gotten herself into this. You volunteered, you flonqing idiot, her conscience reminded herself acidly. Hana pushed herself up to her elbows, wincing at a stabbing pain in her side. Tyris walked towards her almost casually, stopping a short distance away.
"So," Hana rasped, knowing she didn't have a chance of prevailing in a telekinetic battle. Tyris was far stronger than she was, and fearsomely well-trained in that strength. Hana's only chance was to be subtle, to provoke a reaction that might give her an opening. In other words, to be exactly what she accused me of. Not that there's any shame in that. She had certainly taken down a number of Tyris's fellow loyalists, that way. "What do you plan to do now, sister? Kill me?" She managed a harsh laugh. "Not very honorable of your Mother Askani. I wonder what her precious family would think of her if they knew she'd fallen to dispatching assassins-" An invisible hand tightened around her throat. Not hard enough to prevent her from breathing, but enough to hurt. A warning.
"Watch your tongue, heretic, or I'll rip it out." Tyris's voice was as cold as ice, but Hana picked up a flicker of something odd. Shame. "You deserve nothing less."
Understanding dawned. This time, Hana's laughter was unfeigned, despite the pain of broken ribs, and she looked on Tyris with real amusement, "She didn't, did she?" Hana wheezed. Tyris's expression didn't chance, but her very lack of reaction only confirmed Hana's theory. "You were sent to stop me, yes, but not to kill me. What fools your superiors are! Your Bright Lady's principles will be the death of all her hopes, yet-"
"Well, then," Tyris said, paling. The muscles along her jaw rippled with tension. "It's fortunate, then, that I am not nearly so principled." But the confidence that had been there was gone. Hana sensed uncertainty, guilt, and frustration-and the opening she'd been looking for.
Pulling on her remaining reserves, she channeled the energy into a needle-like probe, and struck. Tyris gasped, staggering backwards, and Hana forced herself to her feet, grinning savagely.
This Tyris had to come from the immediate post-schism period-her defenses against empathic attack were pitifully weak, easily penetrated. Hana ruthlessly increased the force of her probe, pushing deeper into Tyris's mind, ripping away the protective layers that buffered her personality and exposing her every buried fear and insecurity to the light of day.
#NO!# Hana wavered at the strength of that silent scream, and went to her knees with a cry of her own as Tyris launched a counterattack. Purely telepathic and mostly unfocused, but the strength of her assault was terrifying, like nothing Hana had ever experienced. Enough, if it got past her shields, to shred her mind. And her shields were already beginning to crack-
Knowing she was approaching her limits, Hana threw more power behind her attack. Abruptly, her range of perception increased, adding imagery to the emotions she was provoking in Tyris.
Fear. Experiencing, as a novice, a vague and terrifying precognitive flash that told her she would die alone, far from everything she knew.
Sorrow. Kneeling on a battlefield, ignoring her own wounds as she held a dying sister in her arms and tried to give what comfort she could.
Hatred. Facing Prelate Ch'vayre in battle, hating Apocalypse's paladin so much that she could almost taste it.
Hana smashed through an old, deeply-rooted block and nearly cried out again, this time in savage triumph, as she exposed a memory from Tyris's childhood, one hemmed around by the kind of pain that could destroy even the strongest resistance. Hana watched as a group of dog soldiers looted the farm of Tyris's family, killing her father and brother.
But keeping her and her mother alive.
Straining with the effort, Hana created an empathic loop, forcing Tyris to relive every moment of the weeks that had followed. #No longer the warrior, are you, sister?# Hana projected. Tyris's attack grew feebler, and then stopped entirely. Hana struggled back to her feet, her vision clearing just in time for her to see Tyris crumple to the ground with a moan, trembling. #Not the proud warrior, no. Only the frightened child, a pretty little toy for the High Lord's men-# She moved unsteadily towards Tyris and stood over her. Just a little more power, and the loop could be sealed, tied off-
It was then that her 'helpless' sister pulled a knife and threw it at her. Staggering, Hana stared down at the hilt protruding from her chest. She coughed, and went to her knees. Block the pain- she told herself dully.
Tyris pushed herself up to her hands and knees, and glared at Hana. Her face was haggard, tear-streaked. "And I-thought I w-was overconfident," she rasped, her voice a raw scrape of pain. Putting a hand on Hana's shoulder, as if to steady her, she pulled the knife out with a wrench. Hana shuddered, but managed to apply enough telekinetic pressure to stop, at least temporarily, the rush of blood that would have followed. But it was getting terribly hard to breathe-
"I took this knife away from one of the dog soldiers," Tyris continued hoarsely, her voice growing more steady. Pain burned in her real eye, and the other glowed a dull gold. "Almost a month after they first came to our farm. They were so sure I'd resigned myself to my fate, by then-that they'd broken me." Hana's vision was darkening, but her empathy was still in full working order, and the cold hatred that blazed out from Tyris hit her like a blow to the gut. "One of them--enjoyed me more than the others," Tyris continued hollowly. "But he grew careless, forgot to make sure I was securely bound. So I slit his throat." Tyris swallowed hard, as if the memory pained her for some reason. "Do you understand what I'm saying, traitor?"
Hana stared at her. She will let me die. Even if those weren't her orders. "Yes-" It was a whisper. She couldn't manage anything more. "Which makes-us more-a-alike than you'd c-care to admit."
And she teleported, using all but the last tiny bit of strength she'd need to keep herself from bleeding to death. Draining herself almost totally, far past the level of safety.
But it was worth it, just for the look of shock on Tyris's face.
***
The Askani who had once been a simple farmgirl named Tyris loosed a howl of pure rage as the heretic vanished before her eyes. Oath! You fool! You self-absorbed, careless FOOL! She slammed a fist into the ground, all but writhing with self-loathing. How could I have been so stupid? The Mother should take back my medallion and demote me to a novice!
Eventually, her anger cooled. What is, is. She had been foolish and overconfident, but chastising herself over a lapse in attention was useless. She had to deal with the situation as it presented itself. Wiping her knife on a leaf, she resheathed it and rose.
Focus. She closed her eyes for a moment, turning inward. Hana's attack, as vicious as it had been, hadn't done too much damage. Mild psi-shock, perhaps, she thought as detachedly as she could. Her head ached, but she could think clearly, and her reflexes hadn't been affected.
Her emotional state was another matter entirely. She tried to enter a partial meditative state, attempting to clear her mind. But the memories Hana had forced to the surface wouldn't fade. Part of her was still trapped within them, screaming-
She is very talented, she thought, breathing raggedly. She would not have been sent, otherwise. Her hand tightened on the hilt of her knife reflexively, her body tensing in reaction. It had been so terribly real.
But she had lived through it once, and again in memory, during her testing for full sister. The Askani could not afford weapons that would break. A third time would be no less difficult, but she wouldn't surrender to her own shadows. She had never backed away from a fight in her life, and she wasn't about to start now.
Yes, 'sister', you're very good. But I am better. She rubbed her eyes angrily. All of this was her own fault. She'd exceeded orders, seen herself as some kind of avenger and Hana as the symbol of all the evil the heretics had wrought. She had lost her perspective. The Mother Askani would be disappointed with her.
Success is the best remedy for a mistake, she told herself fiercely. Focus. Where would she have gone? Hana's wound would not be fatal, not if she received medical attention quickly. It was merely a question of where she would have gone to see that attention, who would have been sympathetic-
She froze, sensing the disturbance on the astral plane a moment before hearing the rumbling noise in the distance. What in the name of the Bright Lady? She peered into the eastern sky. It looked normal-
Then she saw it. A massive wave of temporal energy, almost painfully bright to her othersight as it swept across the land towards her. One of the anomalies! she realized with alarm, and started to construct chronal-shields around herself.
But the wave moved too fast. It was on her before she could blink. It smashed through her half-raised shields, and she was unconscious before she hit the ground.
to be continued...
[FOOTER]