This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity.

If you would like background information on the canon characters, see:
http://crystalhall.wikia.com/wiki/Table_of_Contents

For a copy of the campus map I am using, see:
http://crystalhall.wikia.com/wiki/Campus_Map

JROTC

Thanks to the 'Peeper and Greasy Show' and my new found celebrity status, I was really glad to get out of the cafeteria and over to Kane hall to file paper copies of my daily report. Rejoining the gang in the foyer, we headed off to Arena 99 and briefing room 2 where most of the book-work classes would take place. In passing, I should mention there was a standing order to use only code names during JROTC meetings and classes.

There were four other JROTC recruits, making ten of us in total. The others were a mixture of nationalities. There were two Americans and a Brit who were seriously thinking of a military careers: Beam-Beam, or BB, a quiet girl with a deadly serious demeanour, who was a mid level energiser blaster; the extremely annoying A-Man, a TK-Superman, and Strongbow, a bubbly, air-headed English girl with a snotty upper-crust public school accent. She was so excited to be in the states she nearly forgot to tell us she was a high level exemplar with the full PDP package.

Americans should note: In the UK, public school means a very expensive and elitist education. Generally, the beneficiaries of a UK public school education, while sailing into the top jobs, come out so emotionally scarred, they are a major source of tabloid gossip on kinky sex, drugs, orgies and the other titillating scandals that entertain the masses. Think of 'Tom Brown's School Day’s' and you will understand what public school is all about.

The final JROTC recruit was the son of a Russian oligarch who, on manifesting as a mutant, had been told: Go to Whateley, tell everyone back home it is a US military Academy, stay out of sight, and don't embarrass the family. If he played along, he had continued access to a family trust-fund with an index linked annual payout large enough to support a caviare and champagne lifestyle on the French/Italian Riviera. If he didn't play along, well... enough said.

Oh yeah, his codename was Highball and he was a mid level sidhe type mage/empath. If you think being sidhe made him a potential ally, you would be dead wrong. He had reacted to his families rejection, by vowing to dedicate his potentially immortal life to hedonistic pursuits

Now that the introductions were over, Gunny Bardue, Staff Sergeant Wilson and Sam proceeded to register our firearms. Gunny and sergeant Wilson's eyes got progressively wider at the collection we Praetorians produced. When we explained that Spear was going to be making each of us a caestus, along with a special baseball bats for our stronger members, there was even the vaguest hint of professional admiration.

Once all the weapons had been registered, I put my hand up and asked: “Can we change into our costumes to put the weapons away please?”

Sam,who was very curious about magic, asked pleasantly: “Did last nights quick change enchantments work then?”

When I replied to the affirmative, she looked at Gunny, who gave a go ahead gesture, with a murmured: “Knock yourself out?”

As the shimmer around the gang cleared, Gunny nodded in approval at the Roman legionnaire theme until he notices me and Chira. Have you heard the expression: 'He turned blue with anger.'? Did you know that it is an actual physiological phenomena? He was seriously that furious, I really thought he was going to have a stroke.

Luckily, he was so angry he couldn't speak.

When Sam quietly helped him outside to calm down, this left me to face sergeant Wilson, who, by the way, was almost as angry as Gunny Bardue. After he had vented a little steam, I held up my hand again for permission to speak, to which he angrily replied: “This had better be good, or you will be spending tonight on a twenty five mile route march with full kit!”

Okay, I was a bit disappointed, I would have thought that Sam would at least have had the decency to warn them. I didn't say this outright of course, but I hinted at it obliquely. Telling him: “It's not high fashion beachwear, but real armour. When the 'Admiral' and I tested it, we found it was proof against military grade low to medium calibre rounds and good against temperatures upto 1,200 degrees C. The 'Admiral' and I had it specially designed to let me take full advantage of my succubus aspect’s powers.”

“Sam knew about this?”

With my brightest, widest puppy eyes: “Oh yes, she was there at every step of the design and production process. She also designed and carried out the live fire test.”

His eyes shot open as he queried: “Live fire test?”

I replied with some pride: “She shot me at point blank range with a spitzer FMJ round from an AK47.”

Then, basking in the glow of everyone's completely bug eyed stares, I continued: “She thinks that it will stop an armour piercing round from an AK47, but depending on the range, heavy calibre sniper and machine gun rounds might be a problem.”

Regaining a bit of professional detachment, sergeant Wilson, with a speculative look in is eyes, suggested: “You had better pack your weapons and change back into your normal uniforms before the Gunny gets back. I need to go and have a 'little chat' with Admiral Everhart.”

Now that we appeared to be in the clear, the Praetorians and I took a great deal of pleasure in the stunned looks of our fellow JROTC recruits at our use of magic. Slipping the baseball bats and rifles into the pockets attached to the baldric, the gang attached the belt holsters for the fighting knife, pistol, and CS-gas to the costumes belt, before changing back into their BDU's. Noticing the quick change spell had treated the weapons as part of the armour, and realising I had nearly made an embarrassing mistake. I asked mum about it, who replied: <It was probably the law of Intent, which states a spell is defined by what a mage really intends, and not by what they say they intend. Deep down you intended the weapons to be treated as part of the armour, so they are. I suspect Starfury's COMs system will be treated the same way. >

After a moment, she added: <There is something funny going on though. Something which I don't really understand?>

<Hugh?>

<Magic is, by definition, chaotic in nature, yet chance seems to consistently fall in your favour.... Also, you are picking up ideas and techniques a lot faster than I expected.>

Slightly miffed, I asked: <Couldn't I just be a very good student with natural ability?>

Laughing mum replied: <That's probably what it is, I chose you because of your potential after all.>

Even though she was laughing, I was sure there was a note of disquiet in her voice. I didn't get a chance to question her further though, since Gunny, sergeant Wilson and Sam returned at that point. Nothing more was said about our armour, but, for the rest of the day, Gunny shuddered every time he looked at me and Chira.

The JROTC foundation course was boring and consisted of quite a bit of book work along with practical range safety and live fire exercises. It was partly modelled after the NRA course for a Federal Concealed Carry Permit, but had a Whateley specific take on the subject. With day and night classes to allow us the time to complete the rest of Whateley's registration requirements, it took up most of our attention during the rest of the week. The course work consisted of elements from the following official courses:

#1 Paranormal Law
#2 Rights and Responsibilities of Good Samaritan Law Enforcement
#3 Basic Pistol 100
#4 Combat Pistol 200
#5 The range rules and gun safety elements of 'Intro to Whateley Ranges'

The bulk of the JROTC version of 'Intro to Whateley Ranges' would take up our Sunday mornings for the rest of the fall term.

Like I say, this one week foundation course was pretty boring, so I won't really be mentioning it again.

Dinner and a shock

After the end of our first full day as JROTC recruits, we were well and truly ready for dinner. Taking a shortcut between Emerson and Twain, we saw Razorback weaving through the trees towards us at, for him, a slow jog. I had already warned my friends about his return, and they had unanimously accused me of pulling their legs. Seeing what appeared to be a real, live velociraptor heading towards them quickly change their opinion of my honesty.

In a way, I blame myself for what happened next. If I had spent more time scanning the area and less time basking in the glow of stunned amazement at seeing a dinosaur, I might have been able to prevent what almost turned into a tragedy. Passing us, Razorback let out a chirping, warbling whistle which translated as: “Whoa!... Cute new girl... Definitely a very cute new girl...In fact two very cute new girls...”

Yes, I was shocked, but I was even more shocked when I was able to reply in the same warbling, chirping language: “Whoa! Cute dinosaur, Definitely a very Cute dinosaur.”

Turning to face me with an incredulous look, he tripped over his own feet. To which I let out a very girlish giggle. Putting aside for later the interrogation of my mum, and reminding my friends he was harmless if they didn't provoke him, I started to rush over to help him up. It was then I became aware of a figure off to one side stripping off the last of his clothes to reveal a cheap toy superhero costume. Realising what was about to happen I reached a hand palm upright and manage to scream: “No!”

Unfortunately, the clown didn't listen, and Razorback, turning in the direction of my gaze, got the fist of the clown, who was flying in the classic superman pose with one hand outstretched and the other on his hips, full on the jaw.

Razorback, of course, was knocked into the trees. The clown settled to the ground facing me with his fist on his hips and announced: “The names Superdude Mam. Glad I could be of assistance.”

My chance to rip him up one side and down the other, never got off the ground. Super-idiot was suddenly bowled over by a berserk Razorback fully intent on tearing the poor sap limb from limb. Screaming into my radio: [Break-Break Luna to C&C. Rager alert between Emerson and Twain. Repeat. Rager alert between Emerson and Twain. Razorback attacked by wannabe super-hero. Over.]

Turning to my friends, I ordered them to take cover and do nothing threatening, while, at the same time, I heard the reply: [C&C to Luna. Do nothing, stay out of it. Team is on its way. Do you copy? Over.]

In my defence, my mind was getting a bit clouded as information flooded into me from my mum. Starting a kind of cross between an erotic belly dance and a bird's courtship ritual, I began to sing in the same chirping language: “Calm noble warrior, your enemy is defeated. Gaea's favour shine on you my hero. You are the noblest and strongest of Gaea's warriors, none can stand against you...”

Repeating and improvising on the refrain, I slowly danced my way to a recovering Razorback's side. Once there, with his attention fully on me, I reached up and kissed him on his nose between the nostrils. Seeing a velociraptor blush would normally have had me giggling, but he was a pure carnivore and his foetid breath was indescribably bad.

Now that he was calmed down, I was able to ask him if he was okay and get the gang to come out and help the badly injured Super-prick. Angrily telling Cassie: “If you can do it, just heal him enough to stop him from dying. A few hours, or days, in real pain is exactly what the Doctor ordered for that clown.”

The security team arrived about thirty seconds later, and I was suddenly very busy explaining how the wannabe super-hero had launched a completely unprovoked attack on Razorback. Needless to say, Razorback was in the clear, the clown who caused all this was being carted off to the infirmary, and the only person left for the security team to vent their adrenalin on was me.

Man, the on-the-spot lecture I got from them about putting myself in danger was nothing compared to the lecture I received from Chief Delarose when we got back to Kane hall. It was only the Chief curiously asking how I managed to calm Razorback down that saved me from an extended tongue lashing. My explanation that mum had been stationed hear an encampment of Pack Stalkers, who evidently spoke a similar language to Razorback, caused more than few speculative looks from both the Praetorians and the members of security who overheard us.

Apparently, Razorback normally used a hybrid version of US/Australian sign language to communicate and no one had realised the chirps and whistles he made were a language. In retrospect, after I had pointed it out, it was fairly obvious. To explain this, consider: With people who did not know sign language, he used a gadgeteer designed translator, (which he hated,) and this could only have worked if the chirps and whistles constituted a formal language with a coherent structure and syntax.

Anyway, Pack Stalker language aside, finally getting out of Kane hall, a very curious Razorback invited us to join him at the Outcast Corner table. Explaining in the process, the only other Outcast currently present was Gunny Bardue's god-daughter Caitlin Bardue. Everyone had a lot of questions, I wanted a serious tête-à-tête with my mum; my friends were politely curious about GSD, and Razorback wanted to know about the language we were speaking.

Telling me the advantages of using trays as platters, which I relayed to the gang, we loaded up with a couple of trays each. Well, Achmed, Jules, Tim and me did. Razorback literally heaped a couple of trays with haunches of meat, while Cassie and Justice settled for ordinary sized portions of everything.

Getting up to the top terrace and the Outcast's table, mum was awed into silence when she realised the heavily tattooed Caitlin was not only an Artificer, but unbound. Since I was being bombarded by question from Razorback and the Praetorians, much though I was curious as to what she meant, I didn't really have a chance to interrogate her. Caitlin herself, had a quiet speculative look on her face and largely remained silent.

Another shock

Between all the quick fire questions directed at me, and, at the same time, acting as translator between the gang and Razorback, I was struggling to get a chance to eat. Because of this, I barely noticed two good looking senior students approaching us. At my mum's shouted warning to quickly give her control, I automatically started to stand and change into my costume before finding myself once again in the back seat with mum driving the bus.

As mum finished standing, the tail of my succubus aspect sent my seat flying with a clatter which caused every eye within earshot to focus on me. At the same time the two students, one male one female let out a simultaneous, ashen faced: “You!”

In reply, mum let out an uproarious peel of laughter before greeting the male student with: “Who would have believed it? The mighty Zeus masquerading as a school boy. Well husband, do you want to continue where we left off? I believe I was about to educate you on your 'short-comings'.”

It is probably a testament to the true nature of Whateley, (and how quickly the Praetorians were learning,) that everyone within range, Praetorians included, were diving for cover. Small lighting bolts were arcing from the boy Zeus's(?) hands as his face contorted in rage. Mum, on the other hand, totally unconcerned by the incipient explosion, turned her attention to the girl, who was staring at mum in genuine terror, telling her: “Oh relax Hera. A trollop like you can't help her nature, and calling you to task for it would be like beating a dog for barking. The truth is, you did me a big favour when you bedded my husband. He was the worst lover I have ever had the misfortune to take to my bed.”

Turning back to the boy, she continued: “That's why you hated Endymion, wasn't it my lord husband? A mortal who could outperform the mighty Zeus in the bed chamber. It was just too much for your over bearing ego.”

Okay, I had to admire her style, every little barb was hitting its mark and my newly feminine mind was taking notes for future reference; but damn it, it was my body in the firing line!

I shouldn't have really worried though.

Just as it seemed the teenager was finally about to explode, she stopped him dead in his tracks with: “I find the irony of 'The Mighty all Father' struggling to dominate the mind of an infant highly amusing. The child is still there you know, I can sense him. He has spent his life being a passenger in his own body and hates you with a passion that is truly 'holy' in its intensity.”

Thinking about what mum was saying, I focused on my telepathic awareness and could sense an echo coming from both the girl Hera and the boy Zeus. It was barely detectable, but full of hate and towering rage. My further explorations were cut off when mum sweetly told the teenager: “I could free him if you like, I think he would probably kill you.”

Not quite screaming: “This isn't finished bitch.”, with an imperious gesture to the girl, who was now visibly shaking, the boy turned and stormed off.

After mum handed control back to me, while picking up my chair, I reverted back to my human aspect and changed out of my armour. Everyone at the table, except Caitlin who was looking at me with an ever more speculative expression, was clamouring for me to explain what happened and what I meant by what mum had said. Judging by the way our usual eavesdroppers were leaning in, it was a question which was being asked by everyone else who had witnessed the confrontation.

A question, I may add, to which I wanted my own answers.

Warning my friends I was going to be distracted while I got some honest answers to a number of questions out my mum. With remarkable patience, I told her: <Okay, take your time. Start at the beginning and don't miss anything out. I'm all ears.>

In a resigned sounding voice she replied: <When you chose your codename I thought you knew.>

<Knew what? What's my codename got to do with it?>

<I told you, my sisters were insane and I spent aeons searching for a way to cure them. At the dawn of the current age, I formed an alliance, sealed by marriage, to a petty Godling called Zeus to overthrow the ruling Titans. It was potentially a good alliance, the Titans were corrupt despots anyway, and I was sure that with Zeus's aid, once he was ruler of Olympus, I would finally be able to help my sisters.>

Noticing she seemed to have skipped something important, I demanded: <What's that got to do with my codename?>

In a subdued tone, she answered: <The Greeks worshipped me as Selene, Goddess of the Moon, first wife and lover of Zeus. The original founders of Rome were a group of cut throats, thieves and rapists hiding out in the seven hills. Initially, they ran a protection racket on several major caravan routes which crossed the Tiber on barges to a semi-permanent market encampment on the 'Insulam Transitus'. When they tried to legalise the arrangement by calling themselves a kingdom and their extortion taxation, since they had no formal priesthood, the neighbouring Etruscan kingdoms refused to have anything to do with them . In order to get around this, they imported the Greek pantheon and worshipped me as Luna.>

Feeling a cold shiver run through me, I accused <And the warrior Goddesses, Inanna and Ọya-Iyansan, they weren't your sisters, they were you. Weren’t they?>

Sighing, mum explained: <My sisters were insane, Zeus had proved to be a damp squib in more than just the bedroom, and, once he was Lord of Olympus, it became obvious to me his reputation was badly overblown. My sisters were preparing to unleash a second cataclysm, a fact to which the Mighty all Father appeared completely indifferent. With no other choice, I had to build the armies to prevent that from happening.>

Asking about her third sister, she told me: <When my third sister took refuge in the forests and mountains of Caledonia and Hibernia, the armies I formed amongst the Scotii worshipped me as the warrior goddess Mórrígan.>

After a pause to let that sink in, she went on: <After finally killing the last of my sisters, I was deeply upset and tired of unceasing immortality. When I visited Pythia, the original Gaean oracle at Delphi, and was foretold of your coming arrival, I voluntarily gave up my physical existence to be better able to pass on to you my powers.>

With some trepidation, I asked the obvious question: <Does this mean I'm a Goddess too?>

Pausing to gather her thoughts, she replied: <Not yet, maybe never. You've always had the potential for divinity, even without my joining with you. However that's all it is, a potential. To fully become a Goddess, you would start by making a reliquary to collect the essence radiated by your worshippers. The process would be finished when you first started to collect and use a purified form of essence called manna. Whether you take that final step, is a matter of free will. It may, or may not, be necessary to defeat the GOO, but the final choice will be yours alone.>

As far as I was concerned, the last thing that either I, or the world, needed was me becoming another warrior Goddess. These unpleasant thoughts were interrupted when mum gave me something else to worry about, telling me: <The power is yours, and even as we speak it is using the bond to scan and incorporate knowledge and skills from Blackstar squad. To a lesser extent it is also using the tenuous link between you and your friends to scan them for useful knowledge. With me, the process is more extreme, we are now inseparable, and, as you saw today with Razorback, my knowledge and skills are gradually becoming yours. As this happens, I will slowly recede into the deepest recesses of your mind.>

When I nearly burst into tears at the thought of losing her, she reassured me with: <Don't worry, the process will take a long time, and a spark will always be there that can be awoken at need. Anyway, no girl wants to have their mother continually looking over her shoulder. Do they?>

At the image she sent of me in a bedroom kissing an over-muscled adonis, I had to laugh in agreement.

After relaying to my friends a highly edited account of what mum had told me, I made the unsurprising, but unpleasant discovery that my dinner was stone cold. Pointing this out to the table, and suggesting that we might still have a chance to play some more mind games with the Good O'l Boy'z, a suggestion which both Caitlin and Razorback thoroughly understood, we retired downstairs to our table by the checkout. Respecting my need to eat, my friends left me in silence as they entertained the dinner queue.

Whateley's grapevine was operating at its usual hyper-efficient speeds, and, when the Good O'l Boy'z finally arrived with a small coterie of bodyguards, it was obvious they had heard about: My bondsmen dealing with Peeper and Greasy; my single handedly dealing with a berserk Razorback, and finally, my face off with Imperious and Majestic, (Zeus and Hera's code names at Whateley.)

As I would later find out, Imperious and Majestic were, along with Razorback, rated as major campus powers. So, not only standing up to the core of the New Olympians, but causing them to turn tail and run, immediately elevated me and, by association, the Praetorians, to the top of the premier league.

The upshot of the day's unscripted unpleasantness was: The Good O'l Boy'z were definitely having another very bad day.

Clothes

On the way back to Poe, as usual, we stopped off at Blackstar barracks to say goodnight. Thanking them for not hurting Peeper, I reminded them I wound be bringing them into my dream-scape to train the Praetorians, (and me.)

Although it wasn't really noticeable yet, winter was definitely approaching, and thinking about their long term accommodation, I remembered reading that there was a Winter term course called 'Secret Hideout Design'. This gave me the idea of sponsoring a special class project for Devisors, Gadgeteers and other interested parties. If the idea panned out, I might be able to utilise their abilities to speed up the construction of permanent barracks, and, possibly, even get the permanent barracks finished before the end of Fall term.

Asking what the squad thought, they all replied positively, so, since Starfury and Startech were busy with the power-suit project, Starlance was my designated driver, Starport was my transportation and Starstrike had the brains of a brick, I appointed Starfire to consult with Sam and the Chief as to feasibility, and get the project underway.

Justice wanted to get into Startech's lab for a couple of hour's, and Startech, who was getting on quite well with his fellow devisor, agreed to supervise him. This would become a fairly common occurrence for the rest of the week. In fact, outside JROTC classes, we hardly ever saw Justice except for hurried appearances during meal times. Devisors being Devisors, the same was true for Startech, and we, along with Blackstar squad, hardly ever saw him either. He even missed a few of our dream-scape training nights. Fortunately, for his health's sake, Justice had to be back in Poe before curfew.

Achmed was, at times, quite concerned for his room-mate. They weren't a couple, but they did take care of each other, or rather, Achmed took care of Justice and made sure he ate and slept properly.

Speaking of couples, on the way back to Poe, it became increasingly obvious that Cassie and Tim had a mutual thing going for each other. What the rest of us found to be really amusing was, Mrs Horton was waiting to tell me my new wardrobe had arrived. This put Cassie in the difficult position of choosing between spending an evening trying to get to know Tim better or spending a girls night with me fashion modelling.

Getting the boy's to carry the two heavy steamer trunks upstairs, I noticed the four girls I had met in the shower two nights previously. Given the hostile looks we were receiving from many of the others in the common room, I thought this might be a chance to make some more friends and put to bed all this nonsense about me being a Goddess.

Nudging Cassie to follow, I walked over to them and introducing her as my roomie, asked if they wanted to join us as we checked out my new wardrobe. When I couched it in terms of a pyjama party, Cassie couldn't resist and Tim was given the chance to allow his love to bloom.

The evening was a blast!

Even taking into account my gender switch and the unfamiliar clothing, it was the first bit of normality I had had in months. After everyone had showered and changed into their PJs, we started pulling out and examining the selection of clothes on offer. Cecilia had outdone herself and had even kitted me out with a dozen pairs of heels, a couple of pairs of snow-boots, a pair of high fashion hiking boots and several shoulder bags from her suppliers in Boston.

After I had modelled several outfits and a wide selection of lingerie, because of all the laughing and giggling, we were in serious pain, and, before getting down to other fun, girlish pursuits like make-up and hairstyles, the girls helped me fill my closet and re-pack the overflow into the trunks. I must admit, I learned a lot about girl things that night and found the whole experience cathartic.

The only sombre part to the evening was when, a few times, I caught a wistful expression on Cassie's face. Because of her parent's strict religious views, her own clothing was serviceable and even suitably fashionable, but, in Cassie's opinion, it was also far too respectable. She had a reasonable allowance for clothing, but it would obviously take time to change an entire wardrobe.

Oh yeah, maybe I should introduce the other girls:

Deborah, was a gadgeteer with thick glasses who usually wore her hair in a tight bun. She was a really nice girl who, partly because of her gadgeteer trait and partly because she failed to see herself as anything other than a klutz, just didn't care about her appearance. Apparently, she'd had some bad experiences with the kids in her old school playing very nasty, emotional jokes. In some ways, listening to her talk reminded me of the horror story 'Carrie'.

Her main gadgeteer interest was robotics, which she was only too glad to demonstrate. The robots she had brought with her from home were small enough to be packed away in her trunks, (plural,) and she brought in a few to show us. There were several life-sized buzzing, flying, wriggling and crawling robotic beasties. The one that really caught my imagination however, was a small doll sized human-form robot which she ordered around with voice commands to pick up and put away some of my jewellery and loose crystals and gem stones I had scattered on the floor. The really impressive part was, when she re-scattered the stuff, the robot, remembering where it all went, was able to repeat the operation with a single command.

Krystal, (real name,) shared a room with Deborah and was a stretcher, a type of shape-shifter that could stretch out her body-parts to reach around the corners the room. So far, she had never found any use it for it other than playing practical jokes. Something I discovered, when Krystal, reclining casually on Cassie's bed, surreptitiously stretched an arm around the room to give me a surprise tickle in a very intimate body part. This caused me to scream in outrage at a totally mystified Jennifer who had the misfortune to be sitting beside me. When Deborah, who already had experience of Krystal's pranks, broke out in gales of laughter, I started to accuse her of tricking me with one of her creepy-crawly robots. What finally gave Krystal away, was her expression of smug innocence.

The previously mentioned Jennifer, was a Technopath Gadgeteer/Devisor who, while not in the same league as Sam, had an almost magical control of electronic circuitry. Like Sam, she could interface directly with computer networks and crash firewalls to retrieve information. Both her and Deborah had hit it off immediately and their roomies waged a constant battle to prevent them taking the conversation off into geek land.

The last girl, Pamela, was a size warper who could alter her size and mass, along with that of her clothing. As yet, she didn't really know what her limits were, nor how to make the best use of her powers, but she did demonstrate shrinking down to spider size and climbing the wall of my room. Once reaching the cornice, she was able to restore a short thread to its natural size and launch herself into spider glide to the bed on the other side of the room.

Like I said, we had a blast. Though it did remind me I needed to get some large cushions and beanbags for general lounging.

Dream-scape training

By the time the girls were ready for bed, Cassie was pretty tired, and, after I had pulled Blackstar squad into my dream-scape and given them the quick introductory tour, while gathering the boys, I noticed Cassie's dream twinkling and pulled her in along with the others.

In what was to become the format for the rest of the weeks training sessions. Under the guidance of our tutors, we did some basic sparring and practiced the types of moves taught in a beginners self-defence class. The aim wasn't to become black belts in the MCMP school of dirty fighting, but just give the Praetorians a bit of confidence. The reasons for not concentrating on martial arts were, (for anybody that has ever done any real fighting,) obvious: Unless you spend years practising to hone the techniques, it's hard to make any martial art your natural fighting style. Most people only learn enough in a martial arts class to get themselves in serious trouble and would have been far better off spending their time learning how to run and shoot.

Having said that, given Whateley's excellent martial arts program, in the long term we all intended to take any and all available combat classes.

After the sparring, we would get individual instruction from the specialists. Tim and Achmed generally teamed up with Starstrike to learn about brick fighting techniques. Tim would also receive some basic guidance in flying from Starstrike and Starfire. Justice, Jules and Cassie received a lot of extra tuition from Starlance and the rest of the squad in general dirty fighting techniques, focusing on how to escape and get the distance necessary to use stand-off weapons. Having said that, they did get some extra instruction in the use of knives and baseball bats.

Later, I would get specialised lessons from Starlance on knife throwing and fighting, but as far as the Good O'l Boy'z match was concerned, I just didn't have the time. For the moment, I concentrated on the specialised training I was receiving from Starfury on the use of my bow and catapult.

The final part of our nightly training regime was to brainstorm tactical scenarios and develop effective formations to counter these potential threats. Blackstar squad were a big help with the brainstorming, and, in addition, made an effective training tool. In fact, with the aid of my bondsmen, my dream-scape became a very effective high-tech simulator.

It was during Starfury's first archery and catapult lessons in the dream-scape, I had the idea to get Starfury to order magical supply's, heavy beads and arrows in bulk. This reminded me of the need to set up a petty cash account for my bondsmen’s equipment needs. However, thoughts of budgets, petty cash and bulk buying were driven from my mind when Starfury informed me: “I'm sorry Mam, but to make the bulk buying idea work, you will need a new bow.”

At both my and Justices startled looks, Starfury explained: “Modern arrows are a load matched to the particular type of bow they are designed to work with. If you try to use an arrow in a bow for which it is not designed, then, the chances are, the arrow shaft will shatter from the acceleration load. With baselines, this usually results in the broken shaft being driven into the archer's arm.”

Justice, nodding thoughtfully, replied: “That makes a lot of sense. I think I might want to look into archery and catapults, there are some interesting things I might be able to do with composites that could really take advantage of Luna's strength.”

I wasn't quite sure what was more scary, the thought of driving an arrow shaft through my arm or the thought of what type of long range weapon Justice could turn a bow and arrow into. Putting these sobering thought to one side, I asked Justice: “If I undo the warding on my current bow and catapult could you attach crystals to the base of the hand-grips?”

Seeing his puzzled look I told him: “I can weave ammunition pockets into the crystals that would be perfectly placed for rapid salvo fire during our combat with the Good O'l Boy'z.”

Grinning evilly, and with simple honesty, Justice announced: “If you have the bow and catapult ready before breakfast I will do it then. My talent is very much like Cecilia's talent with fabrics.”

Starfury thought this was a brilliant idea and, telling us he planned to do something similar for his own and Blackstar's weapons, he added with a grin that was even more evil than the Justice's: “I have enough beads on hand for your catapult and know a couple of spells that will work well with your general battle plan. If you buy up the remaining arrows for your bow tomorrow, I can show you how to enchant both the arrows and the beads.”

More preparation

Returning everyone to their natural dream's, I quickly got up and activated my hush charm. Mum then gave me my first lesson's on how to negate or undo a spell or enchantment. It was a lot harder than you might think.

Because of the system of visualisation I used, I saw it as unpicking a weave, and it was just as finicky and frustrating as unpicking a seam in normal clothing. What really made me pause for thought was how I had woven these weaves myself and was very familiar with how they were put together. Okay, I had inverted them in order to make unpicking them more difficult, a technique most mages never mastered, but still... It was fairly evident I was going to need to practice this with Starfury's, (and many other mages,) weaves before I really got the hang of it.

While I was doing this, I removed the two dozen arrows I had already purchased from their pocket and unpicked the weave to liberate the sapphire on my belt for other uses. This meant I now had three spare sapphires. Partly for the practice, and partly for practicality, I also unpicked the pouches for the chalk and sand and rewove a single 38 litre pocket for magical supplies.

The reason why I was concentrating on 38 litre pouches was because they were a practical size to allow me to reach in and retrieve something without contorting my self.

To recap, currently, the sapphires on my belt now held pockets for:

#01 Large aerosol of French anti-gang CS gas
#02 Catapult (with, by time of combat, six built in ammunition pockets)
#03 Pistol, (with 3 rounds each of taser, pepper and tangleweb)
#04 Baseball bat, (by time of combat will be a devisor forged Damascus steel and lead cored head.)
#05 Caestus, (will be fabricated by Justice by time of combat.)
#06 Recurve Bow (with, by time of combat, six built in ammunition pockets)
#07 Quick change pocket 1, (modelled on the interior of a 38 litre ruck sack.)
#08 Quick change pocket 2, (modelled on the interior of a 38 litre ruck sack.)
#09 Original clothing pocket 1, (modelled on the interior of a 38 litre ruck sack.)
#10 Original clothing pocket 2, (modelled on the interior of a 38 litre ruck sack.)
#11 Blackboard, (rolled up into a tube.)
#12 Pocket for magical supplies, (modelled on the interior of a 38 litre ruck sack.)
#13 free
#14 free
#15 free
#16 free

After I had finished unpicking and consolidating my belt pockets, I went through my collection of loose crystals and gemstones and picked out six different coloured small crystals for Justice to attach to my bow, and half a dozen even smaller crystal for my catapult.

With that done, I was finally able to turn my attention to my daily security report. This was when I realised I was now three for three. Three security reports and three times my name figures prominently. Believe me, it was very difficult not to turn my daily summary into a series of excuses. So, after emailing Sam said summary, I headed off for a shower and tried to think of more pleasant things. Like, for example, how we could psyche out the Good O'l Boy'z at breakfast.

Terror weapons!

Waking Cassie with another coffee in bed, I quickly got dressed and ready before enjoying my own coffee. Justice was good to his word, and about five minutes after Cassie returned from her shower, there was a timorous knock on the door accompanied by an even more timorous: “Are you decent?”

Entering, he had a collection of epoxy glues; glass, carbon and metallic fibre fabrics, along with various other laminates, and it didn't take him long to attach the required crystals. Watching him work really was a lot like watching Cecilia, and closely examining the results, I could have easily believed the crystals were original integral parts of the catapult and bow's construction.

Breakfast and lunch were rushed and so we never saw the Good O'l Boy'z. Then, before dinner, we made a detour to buy up the remaining arrows for my bow which amounted to12 packets each containing a dozen arrows. We also loaded up with more snacks and I bought a couple of dozen throw cushion and half a dozen bean bags.

During dinner, The bean bags and cushions were stuffed under our table, but still difficult to miss. With the extra the arrows displayed prominently, a major topic of conversation in the dinner queue was: 'What are the Luna-tics going to do with the bean bags?'

Finally, our targets arrived, and, when they drew into earshot, Justice launched into lurid, gloating techno-babble about how the bean bags and cushions were perfect for the improvised weapons system he was designing. It was techno-babble that obviously drew heavily on his experiences fighting in Nigeria and included lot of blood, gore and details of how the screaming of the survivors could be heard for miles.

You have to give credit where credit is due, the Good O'l Boy'z may not have been very bright, but it was not for lack of imagination. They all looked extremely worried about the cushions. Vengeance, in particular, looked as f he was going to throw up, and I still wonder what he thought we were going to do with them?

Stopping off at the Blackstar barrack, I collected two packets, each of 144 heavy yellow beads from Starfury and he outlined the enchantments he had in mind. They were actually very similar to what I had learned at the castle and I didn't foresee any problems. Startech had two more ECM wands ready, one for me and Cassie, and one for Jules and Tim. He also reported making good progress with the COMs system. This reminded me of the enchantment I had thought of when he detailed his ideas at the Roger's Fabric Boutique. You know, the one mum had suggested would make a good exercise for me to learn to design my own enchantments. I had a few ideas about this and was ready to cast the spell that night.

With Justice heading off to Startech's workshop, the rest of us headed back to Poe.

Passing through the common room, I saw Krystal and the girl just hanging around looking bored, and, since, contrary to popular opinion, we really were friendly, I asked them if they wanted to join us for the evening. After the previous evenings high jinx, they readily agreed, and, even with the boy's present, it was another blast. The only real downside was Justice's absence, I was sure he, Deborah and Jennifer would get on well together when they finally met.

I still had my enchantments to cast, and, when it started to get late, I tied all my arrows into a bundle; shoved Starfury's beads into a spare belt pocket; made my apologies and headed off downstairs. After my previous experience with showing the girls my costume, I waited till I was outside before changing into my succubus form.

Checking into the security net, I went invisible and flew off to the Grove

The Eye of War

Settling down in what I was fast beginning to think of as my glade, I got out my blackboard and chalks and undid my hair to remove the bindi. Explaining to mum what I had worked out, she offered: <You should also try to work into the spell attributes to shield your mind from attack, and cloak your thoughts from perception. Many Beings have the power to detect the thoughts of people scrying on them, and they can use the linkage to launch a retaliatory attack.>

After a bit of pontification, I came up with a possible solution. Hearing my idea, mum laughed, telling me: <If your intentions are true, and I believe they are, audacity like that should almost certainly work. At least you will find out if the universe has a sense of humour.>

Still snickering, the only other advice she offered were the phrases 'oculus apertus' and 'claudere oculos'.

Basically, what I wanted was a system of surveillance that would allow me to see every aspect of a battlefield. Noting that, there was a school of thought that claimed devisors were essentially a type of mage. There was a powerful three fold application of the rule of precedence. The progression of the precedence was: #1 The many myths and legends of all seeing eyes. #2 The devisor solutions to the problem. #3 The pure gadgeteer solutions.

Viewing the progression in this fashion, I could invoke the law of Cycles, which stated that it should return to the original state in which an all seeing eye existed.

The law of threes was invoked twice more because I currently had two eyes along with the two esper traits, prescience and telepathy. The enchantment would give me three eyes and the third esper talent of farseeing. This made it a very powerful enchantment: In effect, what I was crafting was a three fold application of the law of precedence followed by two more applications of the rule of three for my eyes and esper trait, making a three fold application of the rule of three itself.

As a bonus, because of the dangling sapphire's similarity to a third eye, I could thread the preceding symbolism around the symbolism for similarity.

To work in the attributes for protection against a retaliatory attack, I decided I could use the laws of precedence along with the similarity to armour of the headpiece's chainmail necklace. For the cloaking aspect to hide my thoughts from those on whom I was scrying, since I had cast cloaking spells that were similar in nature many times before, I would invoke the law of precedence. This could be coupled with the law of three since the enchantment would now have three aspects.

Finally, the bit that mum found so amusing: Since ultimately, it was my intention for the spell being cast to be used in opposition to the gathering forces of the GOO, I could bind the whole structure together with the law of nemesis.

Having fixed all this in my mind, all I needed to do was inscribe the pentagram with the symbols to represent the way I was using the laws and shape the weave to give the spell definition. Opening myself fully to my sidhe heritage, the magic flowed around me like a river as I inscribed the pentagram and placed my bindi between the invocation phrases. Pulling deeply on the essence from the night sky, I wove the threads into the desired patterns. Invoking the law of definition to say this is the way the universe is, I let them settle into their respective places on the bindi and inverted the weaves to hide their nature from my enemies. Since weaving three weaves together is even more exhausting than weaving two, it might have been my imagination, but there seemed to be an almost audible click as I finally sat back

I was sure something very profound had just happened, though I wasn't sure what. Asking mum, she told me: <Magic like that has not been woven since the Sundering. Even the God's at the birth of your human civilisation had not the skill to do what you just did. They usually searched for the surviving relics of Atlantean enchantments or made do with inferior copies.>

The Grove, in a very respectful voice, added: <I never expected to see such magics again. Maybe we do stand a chance against the return of the ancient enemy.>

Stunned, I didn't want to consider what they were suggesting, but at the same time, I knew deep down what they said was true. In my excitement however, putting these thought to one side was easy. After all, I still had to try it out and see if it worked.

As was becoming a bad habit, I cursed when I realised I didn't have a mirror or hairbrush to fix my hair. Nevertheless, I quickly wove the bindi back into its proper place as best I could. Directing the thought <oculus apertus> at the bindi, a ghostly, 3D relief map of the campus was superimposed on my surroundings.

As military buffs will know, in war-games, red represents the aggressor forces; blue represents the defending forces, (in this case me,) and neutrals are often represented by white.

The image was dotted with blue, red and white-ish points of light, congregated in the various cottages. Thinking of Fantastico, I saw him standing naked in his room getting ready for bed. Pulling back in surprise, it was as if I was standing outside his cottage.

Experimenting, I pulled out to see a topographical relief map of the US then a hemisphere of the earth. What stopped me experimenting further,was the twinkling blue, red and white dots scattered here and there around the world. Even though I already knew the answer, I asked mum to explain. She replied: <They are your enemies and allies. The red or blue tinge to the neutral whites indicate their current sympathies and, to a degree how much they can be trusted. Be careful of spying on any of them irrespective of whether they are friend, foe or neutral. The attributes of cloaking and armour you wove into the enchantment should offer protection, but there is no need to take chances.>

The thought that I had enemies of whom I had never heard was sobering, though in a way, unsurprising. After all, I was in the process of setting myself up to go against some of the most powerful 'Beings' ever to have existed, and whatever talents I possessed they had in spades. Not only that, they had had aeons to prepare. Thinking 'claudere oculos', I shut down what Cassie would call the 'Eye of War'

With the main enchantment done, I withdrew the catapult and bow from my belt and quickly rewove the wards of Keeping and Guarding before attaching the ammunition pockets to the crystals. Each catapult pocket was big enough to hold four packets of 144 beads, each bow pocket was big enough to hod a 144 arrows.

Taking, the bundle of arrows, it was simple to weave into them Starfury's enchantment, as it was with for the heavy beads for the catapult. After my little cursing tantrum at not having the means of fixing my hair, the last enchantment I wove was to attach a small shoulder bag sized pocket to one of the belt sapphires to hold some basic cosmetics, hand mirror and hairbrush. Then, since it was still a bit early, I said goodbye to the Grove, activated my invisibility charm and took off for a refreshing flight around Emerson and Twain before meeting the rest of the gang in my Dream.

Other activities and conflicts

The next couple of day's we were kept very busy. Even though the JROTC recruits had been put to the back of the queue for power testing so that it wouldn’t interfere with the induction course, we still had Headmistress Carson's address and class registration to take care of. This meant, joy of joys, night classes to keep up with the course work.

The Headmistress's address to freshers was, predictably, a homily on the dangers facing mutants in a world run by baselines, and working hard and making the best of the opportunities the school presented. Yes, she did mention team Kimba, though not by name, and made clear that anyone with intentions of following in their footsteps would have their energies redirected. It was not my imagination when her steely gaze seemed to linger on me and the Praetorians as she swept the crowd with eyes that seemed to be shooting daggers. Nor was it my imagination that a surprisingly large number of students turned their heads in our direction as they followed those daggers to their target.

Class registration was surprisingly quick. Mrs Hawkins, my official academic counsellor, was quite abrupt and seemed to have her nose badly out of joint. I had the distinct impression that Sam had basically told my counsellor: 'This how it is and these are the classes Luna will be taking.'

In a nutshell, when I went to be counselled on suitable classes, Mrs Horton told me she was very busy, brusquely handed me a timetable without any comment and that was that.

Image: Luna's timetable

I later heard on the grapevine that she was quite a bureaucrat and a stickler for procedure. In her world view, the special educational needs of precociously intelligent mutant children were unimportant compared with laying the proper foundations of a traditional education. Her attitude had, on more than one occasion, lead her to force on some unfortunate students class schedules they were more than qualified to teach.

The rest of the Praetorians had an equally easy time of class registration. In addition to the JROTC range course, we shared classes in: English Composition; Basic Martial Arts and Intro to Tactics Manoeuvres and Strategy. We also shared Wednesday afternoons as our Free/Work study period.

This last piece of luck(?) was not a coincidence. We often found ourselves doing SIM training during this time.

Since he was also studying Magic Theory and Magic lab, Justice was the person I shared most classes with. We also shared 'Intro to Fabrication Techniques for Devisors'. I would miss the first 45 minutes of this class since I had to be in Basic Mystic Concepts for the pre-fresher home room. However, this didn't really matter, since it was actually an open workshop and many devisors, Justice included, spent all their free time there. There was a supervisor/ instructor and the only real rule was we had to have specific safety instruction related any particular piece of equipment or tool we wished to use. The course itself was graded on a fabrication project we had to undertake.

We also picked up the school supplied laptops which were of a rugged Whateley design that was hoped would stand up to super powered school-yard disputes. Telling us to reformat the hard disk, Carson had warned us about the pranks that departing seniors liked to play. Asking Startech for his advice, he had gone further, saying: “Any good tech-head worth his salt will plant the booby trap in the BIOS ROM, even replacing the entire disk storage system won't clean that type of booby-trap.”

With that pleasant thought, we dumped the lot on Startech and asked him to make sure they were clean.

Throughout the week the rest of the student body were slowly returning and the queue at dinner was becoming quite large. The reputation of the Luna-tics was now such that we could tell the new arrivals by the way they would stop to stare at us, either as we walked around campus, or sat at what was recognised as being our table.

In Poe, a front of low intensity hostility opened up with the arrival of a few of the sophomore changelings. It didn't really have anything to do with team Kimba, or our challenge of the Good O'l Boy'z, but involved 'issues' certain people had with me, Blackstar squad and Jules and Tim.

The main bone of contention was a girl called Elaine Turner, or Wallflower. Her parents were in a super-hero team called STAR League, and their children at Whateley, Wallflower included, were in STAR League junior. She felt that a team of known super-villains using the name Blackstar, was offensive to both her and her parents. When she peremptorily ordered me to change the name of Blackstar squad, I, pointing out that I not only owned all legal rights to the name Blackstar, but all combinations of Blackstar involving words like squad, corps, corporation, company, platoon, league, legion, army, century.... etc that my lawyers could think of, laughed in her face.

Hank, her boyfriend, and incidentally a member of team Kimba, didn't really want anything to do with our dispute, and was diplomatically trying to avoid becoming embroiled. However loyalty to his girlfriend meant he also tried to avoid appearing overly friendly.

Another personality conflict, though at a much lower level of hostility, was with a Native American girl called Kayda. In her case, she was friendly with Stormwolf, and, on hearing about my dressing him down in front of the Bad Seeds, she naturally gravitated towards Wallflower's camp. Apart from Stormwolf, (who was also Native American,) I believe Kayda also had a problem with Jules and Tim using the Niimiipuutímt language code names, Cúpiní-k'áplac' and 'Cúpiní-teqè’s. Although, in fairness, I should point out she didn't actually make an open issue of it.

Sonar

On the Friday evening, we qualified for our concealed carry permits and, in celebration, we stopped off at the campus store where I bought a cheap TV and DVD player. The reason why I bought cheap gear was more to do with not rubbing my wealth in the noses of my friends than any reasons of economy. It was also the reason I let them, along with Deborah and co, rent the videos and buy the snacks for our celebratory movie fest.

What did we watch? I hear you ask. You guessed it, back to back episodes of, ta-da: 'Tales of the MCO.'

Enjoyable as the evening was, I had other things to do before our dream-scape training session. Apart from the ward of Keeping and Guarding, I still hadn't enchanted the choker or earrings of my sapphire jewellery. After giving much thought as to what would be suitable enchantments, I had settled on the type of sonar used by, bats, dolphins and whales. Partly this was because the location of the pieces of jewellery suggested it, but also because, if done properly, it would give the jewellery an offensive capability. (A little known fact is that bats, dolphins and whales not only use sonar to hunt and navigate, but also to stun their prey.)

Arriving at the Grove, 'It' still greeted me like a favourite grand child, but there was a definite tinge of respect in 'Its' welcome. However, with the fast approaching match between us and the Good O'l Boy'z and the pressure I was feeling not to let the Praetorians down, I didn't really have time to focus on this.

I should add here, the pressure I was feeling was purely self imposed, and was not pushed on me by the Praetorians themselves. Basically, it was just me feeling that, because I got them into it, it was up to me to make sure we won.

That was all beside the point though. The enchantment I had worked out was based on the fact that Gaea, a Goddess, but still a creature of magic, had previously given the gift of sonar to the aforementioned bats, dolphins and whales. This meant there was a well established three fold precedence.

I followed this with using the similarity of location of the earrings and choker to my ears and larynx to invoke the law of similarity. The rule of three was invoked again because there were three pieces of jewellery and three modes of use, active sonar, passive sonar and attack mode. This meant that, once again, I was using a powerful three fold application of the rule of three itself.

Finally, call me stupid if you like, since it had worked so well with the 'Eye of War', I once again wove the symbolism around the law of nemesis to reinforce and hold the multiple weaves together.

Removing each earring and very quickly replacing it with a stud I had brought to prevent the piercings from closing, I muttered to myself about finding some way to make the piercings permanent. However that was for later. After inscribing the symbolism on my blackboard, I placed the jewellery between the invocation phrases 'Auribus' and 'Aures claudere'. Drawing in the power of the night sky, I wove linked weaves for each piece, plus the controlling weave to actually bind the enchantment into the form I desired. Both the Grove and my mum had maintained a respectful silence as I worked, and, when I inverted the weaves and allowed them to settle, they let out a sigh of released tension.

Quickly replacing the earrings, I fastened the choker around my throat, and, closing my eyes, with some nervousness I forcefully directed the thought: < Auribus> at the choker and earrings.

Immeditaetly, even in this passive mode, I could see all the little insect and creepy crawlies, along with the leaves, branches and tree trunks moving and flexing around me. More importantly, the echoes from these slight noises vaguely illuminated even the lifeless and immobile stones and pebbles dotted around the glade. The real power of the enchantment though, was the way in which the echoes reverberated around the trees, leaves and a large boulder off to one side of the glade. In effect, I was seeing around corners.

Letting out a high pitched chirp that later tested out in excess of 80 to 120 KHz and would be inaudible to humans or even dogs, it was like shining a spotlight or setting off a flare on a dark night. Even the most indistinct objects were brightly illuminated. Opening my eyes, the image was at first a bit disconcerting, but quickly settled into a mosaic of sound and light that the enchantment interpreted for my senses.

In a similar vein to the high pitched chirp, I instinctively knew how to shape my lips mouth and tongue to emit a focused burst of ultra high frequency blast of sound that would, at the least badly disorientate, and more than likely totally incapacitate an opponent.

Once the echoes of my chirp died away, I activated my hush charm. Since the sounds were external to me, the hush charm had no effect on the sonar’s passive mode. Trying another high pitched flash-light chirp, it, as I expected, was cancelled by the hush charm.

With my sonar enchantment working as I had planned, I directed the thought: <Aures claudere> at the charm and was immediately plunged into darkness. After a short few seconds, my normal senses recovered and I was able to see again, even so, it was still disconcerting. Thinking about this, and a few other things, it made me realise I would need to be very careful about how I used my new enchantments.

For the moment though, I headed off to make sure that everything was okay around Emerson and Twain before heading back to Poe to bring my friends into my dream-scape for more training.

Sara

Dream-scape training was by now a routine and that night was no exception. At the end of our training session, after returning my friends to their own natural dreams, I withdrew from my dream, to feel something calling to me. It was almost like someone was tugging a string. Putting on my silk robe, I took the opportunity of taking 10 minutes to enjoy a cup of coffee before heading downstairs in my robe. I had a fair idea who it was, and, although the meeting was long overdue, I had no intention of letting her think I was at her beck and call.

Following the invisible thread to the basement of Poe, I encountered a door emblazoned with a glowing sign cheerily announcing: “Your Aunt is in!”

Deciding that, since she was my aunt, at least a little politeness might be in order. Rather than just barge in, I angrily prepared to bang on the door only to find it swing invitingly open. Taking the invitation at face value, I stalked into a room decorated like a set from a gothic horror movie...

My anger at peremptorily being summoned died on my lips, when, rather than a tentacled horror, I saw an extremely beautiful 16 year old girl lounging seductively in lingerie on a large bed that matched the rooms gothic appearance.

Well, I say she was human, after a quick second appraisal, I noticed her eyes were blood red, and slitted like a cat's. For the rest, her long black hair was highlighted by an unnatural blood red lock and alabaster white skin; her black lips were not painted with lipstick, and the small claws on the ends of her fingers never belonged on a human. She had prominent yet slender cheekbones, pointed, elegant chin and elf like ears. While her upturned nose was kind of cute, her little fangs were nothing like as attractive as the ones I had in my succubus form.

It was the mischievous smile playing around her lips that really got me though, it was infectious and friendly.

Moving to sit cross legged on a Persian style rug, she invited me to join her, and introduced herself with: “I thought we should talk. I am sure that there are a lot of things going on you don't really understand, and I might be able to help you get a grip on what is happening.”

Not sure if I should trust her, I asked mum. Who replied: <Yes, she can tell you about things I don't even begin to understand. Though be careful, and 'don't' promise anything.>

Cautiously sitting opposite her, when I silently nodded for her to continue, she casually mentioned: “You know it's strange, I couldn't enter your dream before and now I find I can't read your mind. What is even more surprising is: You didn't even notice my lust aura. It's almost like being human again....”

Sighing with what almost seemed regret, and taking my continued angry silence at face value, she continued: “You are the Nemesis. It is a consequence of what mages call the 'Law of Nemesis'. In this context it states: When someone or something begins to advance a course of action, the Universe will bring up something or someone to oppose it....”

At my incredulous gasp, along with a shiver of fear at the echo of the way I had been so cavalierly using the law of nemesis, Sara held up her hand to pre-empt my denial: “I know something of what you have foreseen, but, for the moment, I can't openly help you. If I do, everyone, humans, sidhe, my father and me, we will all lose everything. The most I can do is to offer you moral support and a little guidance.”

She paused, giving me a questioning look to which I replied sharply: “What do you mean by: I am 'The Nemesis'?”

Nodding sagely in understanding, she explained: “At it's simplest, the law of nemesis means that nothing can come into existence unopposed and that there is always an equal force to balance it. In our case, here and now on this planet, a confluence of nexi is forming where new gods will arise and old gods will be overthrown. Powerful forces are moving to exploit this and position themselves in the hope of becoming the new gods, and, equally importantly, the old gods are positioning themselves to defend their turf. As a consequence, in accordance with the law of nemesis, the universe is not only creating the 'Being' that is best suited to the task of opposing them, it is giving 'It' the power that will offer 'It' the best chance of succeeding. This is the Nemesis.”

Staring at her in a shock that was so profound I couldn't even splutter an indignant denial, I could only listen as she continued: “I am sorry, but you have my bound oath that what I am telling you while you are currently in this room is true. You are the Nemesis, and only you have the power to stop what will happen ”

Although she had said she couldn't read my mind, (and by her oath this was true,) she must have known something of the turmoil that was running through my head. Giving me a sympathetic smile, she went on: “The pretty jewellery you are wearing didn't directly cause you to become the Nemesis. The forces of Nemesis were already settling around you, and the universe herself was guiding you to the point where they could finally coalesce. It would not have mattered what course of action you took, eventually you would have invoked the laws of magic in a way that allowed the law of balance to cause this to happen. If you like, it is your destiny.”

Then, standing she said: “You should leave now, it is too dangerous for us to be together for long, but know this: You must get a grip on your prescience. You have to find an anchor in the real world of the here and now that will allow you to enter and leave what you call the 'web of fate' at will.”

Then laughing, she advised me: “Using precognition as a weapon is a game of misdirection. Powerful pre-cogs can make it appear they are aiming in a particular direction as a finessing gambit. Do not take everything you see in your web as being what it purports to be.”

Helping me to my feet and ushering me to the door, she finished with: “I am more sorry than you can ever know about what is happening to you. I and my father will try to help you as we can, but we too are bound by our own version of the law of nemesis. Anything too overt we do to help can, in the long term, make the situation much worse.”

As the door to Sara's room closed behind me and I dazedly walked to the stairs, mum told me: <After the oath she gave, she could not have misspoke herself daughter. She might not have told you everything, but everything she told you was true.>

The fact that I barely spoke half a dozen words during the entire meeting is sufficient testament to how shocked I was at what my Aunt had told me.

Getting upstairs to the fresher floor, to pull me out of my funk, mum suggested I try out the Hydroflux equipment. I admit I was a bit scared of it, but after the shock Sara had just given me, I was kind of numb and zombified. Mechanically following mums instructions, by the time I had finished a very long shower, I felt much, much better. Having said that, I was still aghast at what my aunt was suggesting about my true nature.

Mrs Potter and Circe

After my shower, in an effort to maintain a bit of equilibrium, I was went through my daily routine of writing a summary of the daily security briefing. Checking my email, there was a note from Sam telling me I had an appointment with Circe and Mrs Potter that morning a t 9:30. Knowing what this meant, my fear at returning to the web of fate drove any thoughts of what Sara had said from my head.

I am told that most people find getting into the Mystic Arts department offices quite challenging, however I had no problems. At the appointed hour, I found myself knocking on Circe's door, and entered to find it not quite crowded with: Circe, Mrs Potter, my Uncle Dave, Sam and a vaguely military looking gentleman in a cheap, but serviceable, suit who nodded politely.

Mrs potter took charge and after, asking me to sit, introduced the gentleman with: “Strange times make strange bedfellows. The MCO have their own pre-cognitive resources and are aware of the problems we 'all' face. This is Special Project Director Jefferson who heads MCO task force Zulu.”

Noticing my start of fear, Sam reassured me, telling me: “Director Jefferson has the full weight of the MCO behind him and will make a powerful ally. Apart from that, I've checked him out thoroughly, and, for an MCO agent, he is one of the good guys. He is not a mutant hater and does his job with integrity and honour. The truth is, the fact he was promoted to his current position is a good indication as to how seriously the MCO takes the situation. In more normal times, Director Jefferson would be lucky to get above the rank of Field Supervisor, and would likely find himself shunted off to some backwater field office.”

With Director Jefferson nodding an acknowledgement to what Sam had said, Mrs Potter continued: “It is only through today’s participation of Director Jefferson, that you arrived here at Whateley.”

At my baffled: “Hugh?”, Circe asked: “Haven't you noticed: You never see yourself or other pre-cogs in your visions? You only know about people with the gift through the indirect references of people close to them.”

Mrs Potter took up the explanation with: “During your first visit to what you call the web, the conversation we had about you coming to Whateley was actually an echo of this conversation, but relayed through Director Jefferson.”

With an amused look at the mystified expression of both Sam and my uncle, she added: “Everyone else present, for one reason or another, has a degree of immunity to someone with precognitive talents.”

Putting this to one side and pointing out I had only visited the web once, and anyway, for the most part, my pre-cog talent seemed to be an enhanced situational awareness, I asked the million dollar question: “What exactly do you want me to do today? If it is just tell Director Jefferson about what I saw, then I don't know how relevant it will be. The further I get from when I entered the web the less accurate the visions become.”

Director Jefferson leaned forward as if to speak, but Mrs Potter placed a restraining hand to his shoulder before replying: “We know about the attenuation you speak of and can't force you to re-enter the web, but, if you agree, Circe and I believe we can safely guide you through the process of how to enter and leave the web at will.”

Okay, this was really scary. I could remember quite clearly the horror of what I had previously seen, but even worse was the way I had been lost and unable to return to real world of the here and now. What finally tipped the balance, was my uncle standing to place his hands on my shoulders and whispering: “You can do it princess, I will be right here beside you.”

Then, remembering what Sara had said about how important it was I find an anchor to allow me do as Mrs Potter was suggesting, I blurted out: “Okay, I'll do it.”

Both Circe and Mrs Potter came forward and, kneeling in front of me, took a hand each while Sam took a position beside my uncle with a reassuring hand on my shoulder. In a way, it was the intent, hopeful expression on Director Jefferson's face, who, not knowing what to do, was just leaning forward in the manner of a concerned parent, that really allowed me to gain my focus.

Talking softly, Mrs Potter suggested: “Close your eyes and relax. Think about your friends, your uncle and everything in this room. Use this as an anchor to tie yourself to the here and now. When you feel comfortable, stretch out your situational awareness and try to feel what the Good O'l Boy'z plan for tomorrow’s match.”

Doing as she instructed, I tentatively extended my situational awareness. Pushing it to the limit for clues about what form our duel with the Good O'l Boy'z would take, I discovered, what for me, was the secret to using my gift while at the same time maintaining my sanity.

The visions were mine alone, but the presence of my mum, my uncle Dave and the fact my friends were relying on me, gave me the anchor point which I needed. From now on I would be able to enter and leave the web at will. The exact form of our duel had not yet been decided, but the scenario had about an 80% chance of being capture the flag in a forest setting, or 20% chance of being a toe-to-toe in an urban setting where we would each be required to regard the other team as the villains. Meaning, both teams would have to consider collateral damage and civilian casualties.

Battles, as I would later realise, are a form of nexus and are too fluid to see any real detail. They appear like a fog or haze with many different paths exiting the fog. In the case of the Praetorians duel with the Good O'l Boy'z, there were several paths exiting where we had lost, and many more where we had won.

One of the more interesting aspects of what I saw were the results of the 5pm meeting that evening where Gunny and the range crew decided on the match scenario. What was interesting was, much to Gunny's disgust, Sam had apparently repeatedly recused herself from the discussion, and had point blank refused to tell Gunny what we were planning. As Circe had pointed out, I didn't actually see Sam recuse herself. What I saw, consistently in all timelines, was Gunny's bad tempered tirade to the rest of the range crew about Sam's refusal to share valuable intelligence.

Feeling more and more secure in my control and having a better idea how to determine nexi, I extended my awareness further to the greater problem of the GOO. Here, I encountered many difficulties. Partly, the problem was there were a great many players apart from the GOO, not all human, but all with their own game plan. Even worse, as Sara had suggested, the players were using pre-cogs to try to hide some events, while massing forces solely to create a type of prescient misdirection. Some players were essentially working for what they saw as the common good. A common good that did not always have the best interests of the human race at its heart. Unsurprisingly, others, some of human, some of demonic, magical or even alien origin, were working solely for their own interest.

Starting around christmas, the future became increasingly cloudy and emerging from that cloud several years later, were hundreds of thousands or even millions of paths where the GOO had returned victorious.

Yet, as terrible as this was, the few, very rare, paths that offered possible alternatives were little better. In many of the paths that meant salvation from the capriciousness of GOO, the human race had been reduced to savages living in the ruins of civilisation. In others, the few surviving humans were a slave race to alien, demonic or magical overlords. Several possible paths offered opportunities for individual players to raise themselves as new tyrant gods with dominion over all. While, as previously noted, some players were actively working towards this end, others were unaware of their potential Godhood.

Phase being a case in point: In some futures he emerged as a human hero rallying the few survivors to rebuild civilisation. A few potential futures had him emerge as a completely masculine tyrant God, while in others he/she emerged as a God/Goddess with a duel masculine feminine aspect who was completely indifferent to humanities fate. Apart from the most likely outcome of him dying in a near futile fight against the GOO, the only even remotely favourable outcome of the futures involving a Divine Phase I saw were her emerging as a completely female benevolent, but autocratic, Goddess.

From what I could see in this second visit to the web, the potential for a return to the status quo was so vanishingly small, it was invisible. However, at the same time, I had premonitory hunch that what Sara had told me was true, it was possible to at least return to something close to a benign normality. I just didn't know how.

Returning to the here and now, I couldn't resist the taking opportunity to thank Sam for her integrity. At her questioning look, I joked: “Tonight at 5pm, when the range crew meet to decide on the scenario for tomorrow's match, you will recuse yourself from the discussion. Gunny won't take that recusal very well.”

With a startled: “Oh!”, followed by a malicious grin, she asked: “I take it worked then? What will they decide on for the scenario?”

This cut straight to the nub of the problem. When I explained that, since no firm decision had yet been made, I could only talk in rough estimates of probability, both Sam and Director Jefferson seemed a bit disappointed.

After asking my permission, Director Jefferson then pulled out a small recording device and interviewed me on what I had seen of the coming confrontation. He was very gentle, and, apart from being an MCO agent, I had the impression he was a really decent human being. I would have answered his questions as honestly as I could anyway, but his generally sympathetic attitude made me more inclined to be helpful. Although, needless to say, I did leave out the bit about a Divine Phase.

When he had finished and was satisfied he had all the information I could give him, he handed me his business card and told me: “If you ever need any help, contact me. Okay?”

After I told him I would do as he asked and would try to keep him informed of any further developments, he left to take care of, as he put it: “Official business.”

This gave me the opportunity to have a reunion with my uncle Dave. The reunion was personal and family related, and a bit crimped because of the presence of Circe, Mrs Potter and Sam, but reassuring nonetheless. Unfortunately, the real world interfered when Sam reminded me I had an appointment with Gunny Bardue and the rest of the JROTC recruits to see about our MIDs

This proved to be fairly straight forward formality. Gunny had already seen to us getting our photo's taken and as members of JROTC we were entitled to MMIDs. One by one we were escorted by Gunny Bardue into an office where we were introduced to Director Jefferson, who, we were told, was someone from the MCO visiting Whateley on other business. We were also told that, as a favour to Sam, an old friend, he had agreed to do our paperwork while here.

All our details were classified, and while the Praetorians were affiliated with Whateley JROTC, my affiliation was listed as Whateley security. The other interesting thing about my MMID was, it was emblazoned in bold lettering with : 'Offer all assistance. Do not interfere. Authorisation Zulu.', followed by in smaller lettering: 'Contact Project Director Jefferson MCO NY for confirmation.'

Handing it to me, Director Jefferson winked and said with a smile: “They probably won’t be as helpful as I would like, but it will be more than their job is worth to interfere. Don't abuse it”

Then, just as I was turning to leave, he added: “Remember, if you need it, you do have a friend in the MCO and we are not all mutant hating, card carrying members of Humanity First.”

Final preparations

After getting our MIDs, we headed off for the first leisurely lunch we had had all week. Well, at least most of us did, Justice bolted his meal and rushed off back to Startech's workshop. We were all in an exceptionally good mood at getting MMIDs, even me, and entertained the dinner queue with talk of the reasons for Justices absence, and the devilish weapons he was cooking up for tomorrow's combat.

When we finally got bored, we headed off to the campus store. Mainly it was just to pass the time doing a bit of window shopping, but I also wanted 70 metres of parachute cord which was light enough fit inside one of my free belt pockets. While we were there, we saw the Good O'l Boy'z anxiously buying baseball bats, knives, knuckle dusters, Cobra 400 pistols and various other items of weaponry. Being polite, we gave them a cheery wave and reminded them that they need to register the firearms with security, and pass Basic Firearms safety if they wanted to use the pistols during our challenge match.

Seeing the stunned looks on their faces, and the hastily convened, huddled conference. We gave them a few minutes head start before buying a few spare rounds for our Cobras and casually making our way over to range 1 for a test fire. The screaming, shouting and crying didn't seem to be having any effect on either Gunny Bardue or sergeant Wilson. In fact, it's only result was to attract the ire of RSM Burlington-Smythe, who unsympathetically pointed out that we, the Praetorians, a bunch of freshers, had just spent our entire fresher's week becoming fully qualified on all aspects of Whateley's code of firearms safety. Something the Good O'l Boy'z had had four years to do.

Furthermore, he angrily told them: “If you had thought about this at the beginning of the week the required Basic Firearms Certificate is only a two hour course, which my range crew would have been glad to deliver. As it is, at the moment, they have far more important things to do than pamper a bunch of idle, teenage slackers who were too lazy to get out of bed in the morning.”

What can I say, it was a beautiful day. We found a nice bit of grass near the quad with good dappled shade from the trees and had ourselves a celebratory picnic.

Dinner was equally amusing, word of the Good O'l Boy'z failure to sway the range crew had spread, and there were mutters about undue favouritism to members of JROTC. This was silenced when Justice arrived along with Starstrike to help carry his creations. The special baseball bats drew some serious speculation. Damascus steel, with a dull grey colour and intricately curved black fold lines, has a very distinctive appearance and looks lethal. When we tried them on, the caesti for Jules, Tim, Achmed and me, also got a few appreciative looks. Outwardly, they were of the same Damascus steel as the baseball bats and shaped to form comfortable protection for our knuckles and first finger joints while providing that extra mass for a punch.

The thing that really got everybody's attention though, were the caesti for Justice and Cassie. They were an actual proper finger glove made from Damascus steel, with articulated joints and contained built in devisor-tech leverage. For demonstration purposes, Starstrike had also brought along several head sized pieces of reinforced concrete in a large bucket. After Starstrike had left, Justice pulled on his caestus and proceed to crush one of the pieces of concrete in his fist. Then, to the stunned amazement of the onlookers in the dinner queue, he took a thick piece of re-bar and snipped it in two between his forefinger and thumb.

Cassie loved her glove. After trying it out on another piece of concrete, she waited until the Good O'l Boy'z arrived, and, as they drew level with our table, she proceeded to repeat the demonstration Justice had given. She accompanied her demonstration with an improvised burst fire commentary on the glove's likely effects on human tissue and bone, while openly wondering how an exemplar 6 would stand up to this kind of punishment.

From the sick looks on the faces of the God O'l Boy'z, there was no doubt that we Praetorians had one the opening gambit with our tactical PSY-OP campaign.

Now that we had completely demoralised our opponents, we picked up all our gear and headed off to the Blackstar barrack, there I got a pleasant surprise. After conferring with Starfury about Blackstar corporation's magical power armour project, Startech had learned of the effect pure iron powder had on spells, In fit of devisor inspired creativity, he had come up with a repulsor field devise to repel powder and dust.

Looking like a gold belt, it was very low power, and ran off the bodies natural bio-electrictricity and body movements. As a bonus, he claimed it was good against things like pepper, nano-scale technology, bacteriological weapons and aerosols of chemical weapons. On the other hand, it wouldn't stop a pure iron sword or an anti-mage round.

On hearing this mum pointed out how I could wear artificial fibres for several hours at the castle, and speculated that, because of my human aspect, I will be much more resistant to pure iron weapons than other sidhe. She also reminded me that because of my Ex 6 rating swords were nothing to worry about.

The downside to this surprise gift was, it reminded me about what Sara had said about me being the Nemesis, and how the universe would make sure I would have everything I needed to give me equal power to all those competing to become the new Gods.

Snapping me out of my mild funk, Startech commented that, what with making the COMs system for us, he had only had time to make this first belt, but promised he would see that the Praetorians were suitably equipped at the earliest opportunity. This lead on to our other gifts which were exactly as specified.

The basic unit consisted of an automatically polarising pair of sunglasses that incorporated networked day/night cameras whose images were projected onto the sunglasses as a HUD with tactical IFF display. (The polarizing effect was intended to provided protection against flare and stroboscopic flashlight weapons,) In addition, there was an ear-bud and a throat mike that used bio-static adhesion to hold it in place.

Security on the COMs network was assured by rotating both the carrier frequency and the 1024 byte encryption with two separate pseudo random algorithms. While I didn't completely understand the techno-babble, I had picked up enough math at the Baron's school to know that, utilising a system like this, it would be nearly impossible for an enemy to even detect the signal, never mind decrypt the message.

Remembering what mum had said about me having access to both human magic and how the stars were always present to one extent or another, I took every one outside, and, with Starfury's help wove wards of Keeping and Guarding into all our goodies.

The final enchantment I needed to weave for our combat was intended to be a permanent fixture in the Praetorians armoury. Weaving the ward of Keeping and Guarding to include me, the Praetorians and Blackstar squad, ensured that only we could touch the para-cord I had bought. Then, gathering my thoughts, I carefully inscribed the modified symbolism for two of the spells I had learned at the castle, this symbolism was designed to define the spells as the final enchantment I had in mind for the cord. After making the weaves and imposing my will to say this is how it is, I inverted them and allowed the weaves to settle into place.

With all the last minute preparations taken care of we could relax. The gang and I had another rendezvous with the girls, (who were providing tonight’s snacks,) for more adventures of 'Tales of the MCO'. So, thanking Startech for his hard work, we all head back to Poe.

As expected, Justice got on really well with Deborah and Jennifer

It's Combat day!

The final meeting in dream-scape was basically a chance for us to finalise our plans. Before entering, I had checked the future timeline to discover what scenario had been decided upon. As I had more or less guessed from the intelligence Jadis had provided, it was to be capture the flag in a forest setting. There were some slight changes to possible outcomes that were in our favour, and I interpreted them to be the result of the Good O'l Boy'z not taking steps and making the correct preparations that would allow them to win.

After we had agreed the plan was good and we all knew what to do, we took the chance for a relaxing bit of R&R in an exotic location with a beach barbecue.

At breakfast we were all really confident, and, after doing a quick ECM sweep of our table, I quickly sampled the immediate timeline to see what the Good O'l Boy'z had been upto. Needless to say, they had done absolutely nothing that could increase their chances of winning. If anything they had even less chance of winning than the previous night. Quietly relaying this to the gang, we all broke out into smiles and high-fived each other. The mystified looks on the faces of the students in the breakfast queue caused us to burst out laughing. From the muttered comments, they didn't think the Luna-tics were taking the whole combat thing seriously enough.

When the Good O'l Boy'z showed up, by their expressions, you would have thought they had already lost.

Possibly because it was not yet the official start of classes, or possibly because the range crew were busy preparing arena 99, there was no JROTC class. This allowed us to spend the morning relaxing in the quad with another picnic. Sampling the timeline, I followed the Good O'l Boy'z as they frittered away their remaining chances of winning by trying unsuccessfully to convince RSM Burlington-Smythe to allow them to complete the Basic Firearms certificate.

The early lunch queue was mobbed as students rushed to eat in order to get to arena 99 and grab a good seat. Guided by prescience, we calmly waited at our picnic spot until the queue had died down and we were thus able to enter like royalty with the minimum of fuss. An entrance, by the way, whose effect was not lost on either the crowd of gawking students, nor the Good O'l Boy's who had scrambled and sweated to get through an unruly queue and were now staring at us with undisguised loathing from the first floor terrace.

Eating in a decorous fashion as befitting royalty, we ignored the occasional snide muttered comment about how badly we were going to lose. Having said that, a few people actually came and wished us luck, notably the Bad Seeds along with Razorback, but there were also a few others who we didn't know.

Deborah, Krystal Pamela and Jennifer all joined us. They had made cheer-leading pom-poms and little red flags with 'The Praetorians' written in bold black calligraphy. None of them were real cheerleaders, nor wished to be for that matter, but they did manage to give our table quite a festive air.

The Good O'l Boy'z, glowering from the terrace above us, seemed to be remarkably alone. From what we could see from the ground floor, it was like they were sitting in an island of solitude. When I checked the timelines again, they had evidently wasted all their chances to adequately prepare and their chances of winning now solely depended on battle luck. When I explained this to the gang, our impromptu cheer-leaders bounded to their feet, and, waving their pompoms and flags like crazy, chanted: “Go, go, go.....PRAE-TOR-IANS!”

Unfortunately, shortly after this, the girls had to leave to make sure they got front line seats. Still, the fact that we apparently had our own cheerleaders was not lost on the student body

By the time we were ready to enter the arena, we were all relaxed and confident and knew exactly what to do. Sam was their to wish us good luck, and Krystal had managed to rig some kind of amplifier and speaker system to make their final chant of: “Go, go, go.....PRAE-TOR-IANS!” audible to the entire audience.

By arena rules, the combatants enter in civvies and have to change into their costumes. The speed and style with which they do this is one of the factors used to help decide the victor in a case of there being no clear knock-out winner. (As we would later learn, it is also used during assessments to arrive at an overall grade for students combat final, a passing grade being necessary to graduate.) Because of the quick change spell, we immediately gained a valuable few minutes over GOB'z.

This lead in preparation time was increased by my prescient knowledge letting us move directly into our prepared tactical manoeuvres.

Immediately hanging the small red defensive bead around our necks, when everyone acknowledged they were ready, we activated the invisibility and hush charms. We each had our pre-assigned roles. For me, I hung the leather cord of the jade statue Starfury had given me around my neck. The statue was of a Chinese fear demon and the enchantment I had cast into was used as an area denial weapon with a range of over two miles. Preying that the arena shields held, I muttered: “Metus” and took off like a bat out of hell to take tactical C&C position in the centre of the arena. Just in case you have forgotten, the defensive charm for the statue was made a permanent part of my bracelet and the Praetorians bangles.

Once there, I activated the 'Eye of War' and used it to aim a rapid salvo of my enchanted arrows at the GOB'z flag position. The arrows had been enchanted to ionise in flight and landed around their flag as a series of lightning bolts. I wasn't trying to hurt them, I just wanted to separate them into isolated individuals and drive them away from their flag.

I could see through the Eye of War they were losing already. They had been hit so badly by the fear spell, they had been unable to finish changing into their costumes. When my salvo of lightning bolts landed, they lost all unit cohesion and ran off into the forest in four different directions seeking cover.

With that taken care of, forcefully thinking: <daemoniacus> at the small packet of red beads I had brought with me, I laid a magical minefield through the centre of the arena that would create illusionary demons when anyone without the defensive charm came within 10 metres.

Meanwhile K'áplac had taken off in a shallow spiralling flight below the tree tops circling around the arena scattering the black beads which had been charmed to produce a thick dark smoke. Deluge was laying a deep magical minefield of the demonic red beads around our flag position. Chira was coiling our flag in a two metre radius circle with the rope charm which, when tied in a double slipped reef knot, became invisible and erected a shield around the object it enclosed. To cover Chira while she erected the shield, Teqè's and Spear had taken up defensive positions.

Flitting around the centre below tree-tops, still guide by the Eye of War, I would briefly surface and terrorize the GOB'z with barrages of lighting arrows or, using the enchanted heavy yellow beads Starfury had given me, fire fireballs from my catapult. Then, quickly ducking back down and guided by my situational awareness, I would move to new position and repeat.

With the arena very quickly filling with smoke, anyone not equipped with a day/night camera could not see more than a few metres in the gloom. Well, I say anyone, I did have and used Startech's system, but the Eye of War and if necessary the sonar enchantment made the system slightly superfluous in my case.

When K'áplac returned to our flag position, we were ready to move into the offensive phase of our operation. Spear with K'áplac hovering in treetops in defensive over-watch remained in his defensive position, while Chira, Teqè's and Deluge formed up into a reverse phalanx in preparation to move out.

The choice of the attack team was dictated by Chira being needed as backup in case Nantuko managed to erect a shield around the flag. She could use her mutation to encourage fungi and bacteria to break up any defensive pentagram. Teqè's was there to deal with the blasters and, possibly, Roadrunner, while Deluge was chosen to provide extra muscle and, in the case of opposition, the speed to mount a flanking attack. This last consideration dictated the order of march: Chira and Teqè's to the front, Deluge to the rear

Checking the tactical situation, we now had control of centre and arena which was filled with smoke. Roadrunner was dazed after hitting a tree, Nantuko, Fantastico and Vengeance were more or less paralysed with fear. So, continuing with the occasional barrages of lightning and fireballs I gave the order for them to move out.

Battle luck is always unpredictable, the first thing to go wrong was when I tried to guide the Praetorians away from Fantastico and Roadrunner, I got them too close to Vengeance. Up until that point, he had been cowering at the base of a tree in the foetal position. As luck would have it, he chose that moment to make a run for it and set off one of the demonic mines.

Given that the Praetorian were invisible and hushed, (the only reason they even knew were each other were was because of the IFF in their HUD displays,) Vengeance was just, hysterically firing high energy X-ray blast in random directions. Still, this was dangerous and had to be dealt with. Teqè's took him out by manifesting the cloud of grazing mirrors he had worked out with Justice. This left Vengeance badly burned from his own X-ray blasts.

The next thing to go wrong, was a still dazed Roadrunner stumbling across the path of the Praetorians, bearing in mind they were invisible and hushed, I shouted an order into the COMs unit telling them to ignore him. Chira chose to ignore me and screamed an inaudible: “You bastard.”

At the time we didn't know what she had done, but the results were spectacular. Roadrunner started what very quickly became a furious scratching of his groin and armpits while frantically stamping on his toes. His face started to turn green which culminated in projectile vomiting and, as a grand finale, his bowls turned to water and he soiled himself.

The smell was unbelievable. This was probably what encouraged the attack team to listen to my order to forget about hunting down Fantastico and complete the mission.

About a minute or so later they captured the GOB'z flag and the gong sounded.

As arranged, K'áplac collected the rope charm, picked up Spear and flew to the GOB'z flag. Where he arrived shortly after me. Remembering to deactivate the fear enchantment, and switch to my human aspect, we then turned off our invisibility and hush charms. Stepping out of the arena carrying our trophy, we were greeted by stunned silence.

When the silence broke, it was pandemonium. Because of the heavy smoke, only the range crew had even an inkling of what had happened and even their day/night cameras had been unable to penetrate the cloaking and hush charms. The only thing they really knew was what had happened to the GOB'z, and what Sam had picked up from the nanites she had managed to plant on us.

The interrogation was interrupted when Gunny Bardue, listening to his radio, angrily demanded: “I hope for your sake you can deactivate all the magical traps you scattered around the arena. The rescue crews can't get in to extract the GOB'z.”

I had already planned this out, and taking the red bead defence charms from the Praetorians, with a muttered apology for not doing it immediately, and shuddering at the thought of what would have happened if I had forgotten to deactivate the fear enchantment, I quickly stepped back into the arena and used the law of similarity to send all the magical mines up in a puff of smoke.

Once the range crew were satisfied that all the enchantments were disarmed, we were rushed into a briefing room to be interrogated on what exactly we had done to the GOB'z.

Long story short, the looks of shock mingled with professional respect when I described how our campaign of terror had started almost as soon as the match had been arranged were moderately gratifying. Especially when an incredulous RSM Burlington-Smythe demanded of Sam: “You knew about this and didn't warn us?”

Sam defended her position staunchly by replying: “It was a good campaign, Luna collected intelligence on not just the Good O'l Boy'z and their capabilities, but also on the examiners and the scenarios they were likely to choose. She then used that intelligence to correctly predict the most likely scenario and develop a strategy to overcome the inherent advantages of the GOB'z blasters. It's not her fault that the range crew have become very predictable.”

She said this last with a smile at Gunny, who had a very thoughtful look on his face that did not bode well for our chances in future training scenarios. Then, turning to me she told me: “Okay Luna, tell the Praetorians the rest of it.”

My big puppy eyes failed me as Sam responded: “They deserve to know, and I am sure they will understand.”

Sighing, I turned to the Praetorians and explained: “What the Admiral is hinting at is why I didn't take part in combat. I could easily have taken out the GOB'z on my own, yet I took a position of tactical command and left you to do the dirty work. The reason is simple. In any real combat I will be commanding not just you and Blackstar squad, but any enemy forces I take as bondsmen plus our allied forces. You needed to learn that, if you stick to the plan, you can operate as an independent unit without me.”

I was nearly in tears when I had finished, but the gang quickly gathered around me in reassurance, telling me that they had already reasoned this out for themselves.

Sergeant Wilson then interrupted our little hug-fest by asking curiously: “What exactly did you do to Roadrunner? The medics were reporting that at first it looked like one of Jobe's creations, but now they're not so sure.”

It was Chira's turn in the spotlight, as she told us: “It's my mutation, I told you, I can heal anything including the bacteria that cause illnesses. When I first found out I was a mutant, it was because I was able to heal the various bugs and diseases of the guy's that were abusing me. When Roadrunner charged across our path I could sense he was being treated for a fungal infection and a mild bowel disorder, so I just helped the fungi and bacteria get better and encouraged them to make babies.”

She said the bit about making babies with a coquettish shrug that in any other circumstance would have been very attractive. As it was, the range crew looked at her in disbelief before giving a mutual shrug of horror.

Finally, with an admonition that they expected a full after combat report first thing tomorrow morning, and an order to report for team debriefing at 7pm tomorrow evening, we were allowed to dash off to be first in queue for dinner so that we could claim our table.

Our cheer leaders were waiting for us outside the arena and greeted us with another enthusiastic chant of: “Go, go, go.....PRAE-TOR-IANS!”

After filling up our platters, the ten of us were sitting at our new table on the first floor terrace basking in the glow of our victory. The cheer team were still filling the air with chants and enthusiastically waving their pom-poms and pennants. The student body was looking at us with new found respect and life was good.

Sampling timelines and current events with my situational awareness, I realised mystics around the world were announcing the arrival of: 'Nemesis the Destroyer, Goddess of War' and liberationists, fruitcakes and apocalyptic survivalists were already forming cults to exploit the opportunities it presented.

Vowing that it was not going to happen, and especially not in the way these nuts envisaged, I quietly resolved that my private revolution had now taken on a much wider aspect. My revolution was no longer directed against the school authorities for drafting me into security, but directed against the universe for putting me in a position I had no wish to be.

Vive la Révolution!

Authors note:
This brings a end to this first part of Luna's story. I have the main parts of the plot worked out for 'Luna 2: Classes' and will commence work on it once I have caught up with a few real life concerns. Provisional publication date of the first chapter of book 2 will be in about a month.

Irvine