"Jason," said Emma as she walked quickly in the direction of the bridge, "you should get your crew back to your ship and leave."

"Afraid you're missing the point of us coming here to save you, sister dear," replied Jason. "Ain't about to leave without you."

"We have control of the ship," said Emma. "I will be fine. I can meet you later."

"Sounds like famous last words to me," said Rick from behind them. Jason nodded his agreement.

They almost walked right into an Alliance security officer as they rounded the next corner. He raised his gun to fire. Jason went for his own weapon, but Emma was quicker than either, her wakasashi short sword flashing up under his chin as if by instinct. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his brain stem severed by the single stab.

Matt yelped in surprise at the gruesome sight, and his mother pulled him against her side. "She might have a point," said Linda, clearly concerned for her son.

"Fine," said Jason. He knew that Linda's devotion to her son came before any to him. He would expect no less. "Take Matt and Sarah back to the Shire,” he ordered. “Rick, you go with her."

"But Jay," protested Rick.

"No," said Sarah.

"No buts Rick. I have Christine and an entire squad of soldiers to watch my back. Not to mention my new and improved super assassin of a sister," said Jason. "Sarah, make sure my ship is ready to get the hell out of here. I don’t reckon the Alliance is gonna react to well when they find out the Indy's 've taken one of the Tohokus."

When Emma finally neared the bridge, she turned to her brother. "You have to let me go in first," she declared firmly. Jason was about to protest but Emma cut him off. "Elizabeth is my closest friend Jason, but she is not well right now. They gave her some drugs that did things to her. Things I can’t even explain. I don't know how she will react if someone she doesn’t know charges in with weapons drawn."

When Jason didn’t initially agree she compromised, "Just stay here with Sergeant Wilkins for a few minutes. You can come in as soon as I speak with her."

"Five minutes," said Jason. “No more.”

------------------------------------

Elizabeth tingled in anticipation; she was just about to carve out the heart of the little communications officer. She had forced the other Alliance crewmembers to stand round the restrained woman in a semicircle, so they could watch the gruesome spectacle up close. Whitney looked up at her Commander standing less than three feet away. Fear completely filled her eyes. Too afraid to even speak, she mouthed a single word, 'help.' There was nothing Lockhart could do, and it broke his heart.

Elizabeth focused herself on the moment as she raised her blade. She wanted to enjoy this to the fullest. From the corner of her eye, she saw an administrative aid that had been captured on the bridge faint, and have to be supported by a comrade. Even Lindsey, one of the academy students, closed her eyes in anticipation of the mortal blow.

"Liz, what are you doing?" asked a new voice from behind her. Elizabeth turned to see Emma walk onto the bridge. Elizabeth lowered her weapon. "Just having a bit of fun," she replied. Damn it, thought Elizabeth, Emma would never let her cut out anyone's heart. "Well, you're fun's over," said Emma. "Get these Alliance people locked up so we can turn the ship over to the Independents. I’d like to go home."

Both the Alliance crew and the other Academy students watched the exchange with apprehension. Lockhart and his bridge crew were unsure of the motives of this new person. He recognized her as another of the test subjects, but could not fathom why she should bother to show any mercy.

With her captors now more interested in the exchange between Emma and Elizabeth, Whitney the would-be sacrifice pulled free of their hold. She tugged her torn shirt closed and sunk to the floor, whimpering as tears welled in her eyes.

"Afraid I don't feel like doing that, dear," said Elizabeth.

"Afraid that wasn't a suggestion," said Emma.

Lindsey and the others had rarely seen their two most senior sisters students argue. She desperately hoped that Emma would be able to calm Elizabeth. As much as she respected and was willing to follow Liz, many of her decisions lately seemed so extreme. While Lindsey could easily see the logic in killing the Alliance soldiers outright, what Liz had been about to do was, well, a bit insane.

"I'm afraid I don’t care," replied Elizabeth. Slowly she approached her friend, sword still drawn.

"Enough," said Emma. With a quick swipe of her naginata, she knocked the sword from her friend's hand. As her weapon clattered to the floor, she glared at her friend.

"Emma, dear," said Elizabeth to her friend. "You do not want to fight me." Emma relaxed slightly and Elizabeth saw her friend drop her guard. Elizabeth suddenly drew her second sword and stepped inside the effective radius of Emma's naginata. Emma barely had time to pull her wakasasi from her belt to block the strike. With her face now inches from her friend's, Elizabeth whispered, "You'll never win." There was a slight hiss and Emma felt a prick on her neck. "You never have," added Elizabeth holding up the hypospray.

"What?" asked Emma as she felt herself begin to grow weak.

"I have given you a gift, my dear Emma. The gift of the Pax," said Elizabeth. "When you wake, it will be to a glorious new world."

"No," said Emma weakly, as she sunk to the floor. "Jason," she needed to tell him what Elizabeth was planning. Needed to tell him not to trust Elizabeth, to stop her. He was so close, coming closer, but still so far away.

"What have you done to Emma," asked Lindsey.

"Nothing, everything," replied Elizabeth. "I have given her a gift. She will be awake in just a moment, born again as I have been. "

"Emma," said Elizabeth into her friends ear. "Emma, sweetheart, it's time to wake up." Discouraged when she received no response, she shook her friend lightly, then more vigorously. "Emma!"

"If you have given her the Pax," said Lockhart, "then you've killed her."

"What," said Elizabeth, slowly rising and turning to the man.

Elizabeth grabbed the Commander by the man's hand and twisted him into a painful Jujitsu hold. Lockhart screamed in pain and was suddenly forced to his knees as his arm was twisted in its socket. Elizabith twisted a bit harder and was rewarded with a barely stifled gasp from the man. "Explain to me, exactly, what you mean by that?" she hissed into his year.

"The Paxilon. According to the doctors, even in its modified form it only affects a small number of people in the way it did you," gasped out Lockhart. "Percentage is higher among psychics, but most subjects, still go comatose, and die."

There was a sudden commotion and several browncoated soldiers burst onto the bridge under the command of a blonde woman.

"I wouldn't," warned Elizabeth shapely as she drew a pistol and pointed it at Sergeant Christine Wilkins. "I'm on your side. We share a common enemy, the Alliance."

Christine hesitated. The woman in front of her was pointing a gun at her, and she had no way of knowing her motives. She was also however, clearly in control of the situation. Had Christine more men with her, she would not even have considered standing down. She had split her platoon however, and dispatched most of them to secure various other sectors of the large cruiser. She only had five other soldiers with her and realizing her tactical position, she lowered her weapon.

"Emma!" exclaimed Jason as he came around the Sergeant and saw his sister lying on the deck. He rushed to her side. "What happened to her?"

"They poisoned her," Elizabeth lied. Enraged she jerked the Commander's arm. Lockhart screamed as his humorous bone was pulled from his should socket with an audible pop. "You'll die for this," said Elizabeth as she reached for the nearest bladed weapon.

"Wait," said Lockhart. Elizabeth paused for the briefest second as she read what he was about to say, then stayed her hand. "We have an antidote. It's still experimental. In exchange, let the rest of the crew live."

"You are in no position to bargain," said Elizabeth.

"No," commanded Jason. "We'll give him a chance. If my sister dies, you are free to do as you like with the lot of them."

Elizabeth could tell he wanted to kill someone himself for what had happened to his sister. She turned to address her fellow psychics, "lock the rest of the bridge crew in the adjoining conference room. If Emma dies, they die."

Turning to Christine and the other Browncoats she added "Could you and your people watch them for us? We are strong, but our numbers are few." As she spoke, she carefully modified her voice and her mannerisms as she read Christine's mind and emotions. Much of her training as an assassin was the duplicate of what Companion's received and she used it to its fullest. After all, the ability to deceive was necessary to both professions. Once both groups of soldiers were in the other room, Elizabeth silently instructed the other students to lock the lot of them in the conference room.

Jason followed behind Lockhart, carrying his sister. The Alliance officer slowed slightly, allowing him to draw even with the other man, then spoke in a hushed voice. "You have to believe me. We didn't do this to your sister. It was her, the other psychic. She’s insane."

Jason looked at the Commander gravely. "Lislten, Purplebelly," it was the first time in his life he had ever uttered the slur. "You locked my sister away and tortured her like some sort of research animal. Don't even bother trying to get me to believe your lies now." Lockhart was about to reply, but they had reached the medical ward, and Jason ignored him as he strode inside.

Unlike the clinical operating chair and sterile walls of the Academy's operating room, the ships regular medical ward was meant for the crew. It was a place meant to heal people, not harm them. There were several beds made up with soft linens lined up, and the walls were adorned with various neutral pictures, chosen no doubt by psychologists for their calming scenery. Jason set his sister down on one of the beds.

A few minutes later, a doctor entered.

"You," said Elizabeth, recognizing him as one of the doctors that had tortured her at the Academy.

"He is the only one that can help," said Lockhart.

"This is the subject," asked the doctor to Lockhart with a yawn. From the way he disregarded Elizabeth and Jason, it was clear he assumed that Lockhart was still in command of the ship. It was not surprising as it had been less than an hour since the virus had first been released on the ship. The man had likely slept through everything.

"This is Emma," corrected Elizabeth.

"Your patent," added Jason.

“Why was she administered the version 2 Paxilon,” asked the doctor detachedly. “This one failed the screening if I’m not mistaken.”

“Accident,” said Lockhart.

The man simply nodded coldly and administered the injection. They waited several minutes, but nothing seemed to happen.

"I'm sorry," said the doctor emotionlessly. "There is nothing else I can do. She was screened. We knew she would react this way. That's why we never gave her the Paxilon in the first place. It is interesting though; I would have thought the counter agent would work. Certainly spent enough time working on it. I guess it still needs a bit of tweaking though." Jason was horrified by the doctor, no, the researcher as he spoke of his sister like some test subject. To him, Emma was clearly nothing more than a lab animal.

"I wouldn’t euthanize her just yet though,” added the researcher. “The drug is experimental so it might just take time to take effect. Inform me if she dies, I'd like to open her skull…"

The man never finished speaking. With a scream of anger Elizabeth drew both of her katanas and in a single double slash cleaved the man's head from his shoulders like a pair of giant scissors. She then turned to Lockhart, but paused when Jason put his hand on her shoulder.

"She wouldn't want this," said Jason. "Just, stop."

Elizabeth glared at her friend's bother. She quickly sheathed her swords and strode out of the medical ward. Once she was gone, Jason sat down on the bed and held his sister’s hand.

Enraged, Elizabeth strode down a corridor of the ship. Her best and only friend was dying and she would kill those responsible. She would kill Lockhart. She would kill him and his crew. No, she would kill the crew in front of Lockhart. Make him watch as she cut each and every one of their hearts from their chests as they screamed, especially that uppity communications officer that had dared to strike her. She would be first. Perhaps she would not even start with cutting out heart heart. Her thirst for blood was so intense that she could not contain it anymore. She stopped in front of a door to one of the Marine barracks.

Tilting her head to one side she located that little trollop that had come aboard with Emma's brother; the one that had written the virus. She felt the girl wince in pain as she ripped the information she wanted from her mind. The girl deserved a headache anyway. Turning to the door control, she keyed the random number string into the keypad, unlocking the door.

By the time she strode into the large community bunkroom, the soldiers were already on their feet. "Thank god,” said one of the Marines. “Your not a Browncoat. We thought we were done for."

"Oh, I'm far worse," said Elizabeth. With that she drew one of her swords and with a backhand thrust sliced through the soldier's throat. The other Marines reacted almost instantly.

Five minutes later, the last man fell to the deck, his innards clutched in his hands. Elizabeth looked down at the blood now smeared on her own palms. Some of it was her own, from where one of them had gotten a lucky shot to her shoulder. Most of it however, was from the twenty odd men she had just killed. The blood that could be seen however, was not the blood that bothered her. The blood that pained her so much was not even visible, per se. It was Emma's blood, and it also was on her hands.

The two swords dropped from Elizabeth's hands and clattered to the metal deck. She felt weak in her knees. She felt weak and old beyond her years, and slowly she sunk to the deck. She could not quite place the feeling that had come over her, for she had not felt it in so very long. Her vision blurred, and it was only when she felt the hot tears streaking down her cheeks did she realize she was crying.

TO BE CONTINUED

Authors Notes:

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