Witch-hunt! (cca. 10,124)

[Mobius Turgenova]

Mobius Turgenova settled into his seat and surveyed the bar in which he now found himself. It was somewhat seedy by Kaitain standards, but he had seen much worse on other worlds. Outside the sun was set but little of the light from the neon-drenched streets of the Imperial capitol at night filtered through the darkplaz windows which had been rendered darker still on account of probably having gone uncleaned for a number of years. In keeping with its theme the establishment was decorated with various tatty and faded memorabilia of the Imperial house; a lion banner here, a framed photograph of some long forgotten coronation there, but he doubted whether any of the patrons cared much for it or even remembered the Emperor from the distant past after whom the place was named. Propping up the bar were a general assortment of lower class denizens of the Imperial City, the kind of people whom Elrood IX and the Empress Dominique probably didn't even know existed but who were nevertheless vital to the running of their Empire of a million worlds. It wouldn't have been his first choice as a place to drink since he liked to socialise in higher class establishments, but it wasn't quite far enough down the scale to be somewhere that he might come expecting to find fellow smugglers and underworld contacts either. Nevertheless this was where his contact had asked to meet, and considering the sum which had been talked about Mobius wasn't going to complain about the venue

Now all they need to do is show up...

Sipping his drink he cast a glance to the table on his left where a tall man in mirrored glasses and a long black overcoat was pretending to read a magazine. Tek was sporting quite a tan after three months on Arrakis but his Ixian mind would be as sharp as ever. Once the contact arrived he would direct a cone of silence over the table at which Mobius sat to prevent unwanted eavesdropping, while at the same time recording the proceedings for their own information. If the contact arrived that was. It was nearly an hour past the scheduled meeting time already. Just as the first thoughts about calling it a night began to cross the smuggler leader's mind the door to the bar opened and in swept a bizarre looking figure who he instinctively knew had to be the person he was here to meet.

Here we go...

As the stranger crossed the floor to join him, the smuggler looked him or her up and down with well practised care. A long black robe hid pretty much everything, although Mobius thought he caught a glimpse of metal-studded leather boots as the newcomer neared his table. A pair of dark glasses kept the eyes from view and the robe's hood was pulled as far forward as it could go, leaving Mobius with some difficulty working out even the stranger's gender never mind their identity. Dark lipstick and strands of black and silver hair visible under the hood suggested a woman, but the boots and the heavy leather gloves which completed the ensemble were decidedly unfeminine.

"You must be Mr Turgenova. Greetings! I hope that I shall be able to say it was a pleasure to meet you here tonight, assuming you have come to agree to my proposal."

The speech was harsh and mechanical, indicating that the mysterious stranger was employing a voice modulator. This was fair play and possibly even to be expected when it came to the recorded courier message which had initiated the meeting, but here in person it set off alarm bells. Taken along with the stranger's unusual choice of attire it suggested someone absolutely desperate to conceal any trace of their identity and that often meant trouble.

"We shall see about whether or not I agree when I know a little more about this proposal" he replied, deciding to put worries concerning who he was dealing with out of his mind for now, "High risk high pay missions are all very well, but I always take care that the risk does not exceed the reward".

"I think you will find the reward quite substantial enough" replied the stranger, hoisting a large case up into the table.

Mobius didn't flinch as a gloved hand flicked open the case's clasps to reveal neatly arranged packs of melange inside but he had smuggled enough spice in his time to recognise it as literally a small fortune.

"This is the down payment" continued the stranger, snapping shut the case, "There will be five times this amount upon completion"

Mobius again did a good job of hiding his shock, glad that he'd stayed off the alcohol this evening. Five times the quantity in that case was a ridiculous amount, almost as much as he obtained as payment for his services to the Fremen on Arrakis. The words "suicide mission" began to form in the paranoid part of his mind.

"That's a hefty sum to be sure" he countered, "but no amount of spice will have me taking on an impossible task. Tell me more about what it is that you want from me and my associates".

In reply the stranger pushed a sheet of paper across the table. It bore official Corrino watermarks and closer examination revealed it to be an arrival schedule for the Imperial Palace's private spaceport. Mobius could not even begin to think how this had been obtained. Security at the Palace was tighter than a drum not even his organisation wished to risk mixing with the Emperor's Sardaukar by trying to break it. Most of the list was blacked out but one entry had been left visible and circled in bright red ink:

07.45 , Wallach IX -> Kaitain , RM Vortigern & attendants to visit RM Alechem , BG business

"This shuttle must never arrive" explained the dark figure in the uncomfortable grating tone, "The remaining spice will be payable when I receive the witch's head."

Mobius blinked, even his skills as a negotiator overcome by the request. To be sure the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood were regarded with fear and suspicion in many quarters but he had never before heard of anyone actively seeking the death of one of their number. Their reputation was fearsome with combat skills rumoured to be at or beyond Sardaukar level and variety of what could be considered either magic spells or physical/psychological manipulative abilities depending on one's level of superstition. They were not people you looked for trouble with.

"Is this some kind of test?" asked Mobius incredulously, "Nobody tangles with... nobody even wishes to tangle with the Sisterhood".

"This is no joke, smuggler" the hooded figure replied, a maniacal grin forming on black painted lips, "I want the witch dead and I want proof that it's been done. Can you do that for me?"

Mobius considered for a moment. The thought of earning the enmity of the Sisterhood frankly terrified him. The price offered was certainly far beyond anything he would expect from a single job under normal circumstances though, and funds were tight for his group at the moment since the recent arrest of Biggs and Maddox. The two of them had been captured by Guild customs agents, losing him both two of his most trusted associates and a substantial cargo of spice.

"Why do you want her dead? Nobody picks a fight with the Sisterhood" he asked at last, desperate for more information before he made up his mind.

"Do not question me, smuggler!" growled the figure, it's voice as flat and artificial as ever but a look of anger spreading across that part of its face which Mobius could see, "My reasons are my own. Suffice to say that I want the witch to suffer. I want the damn Sisterhood to know what it is like to be watched and followed and finally caught in a trap they cannot avoid. I want them to endure the anguish of having one of their own killed under their very noses. They have ruined my life but now I shall strike back. As they took my freedom I shall take one of their so-called Reverend Mothers. I want them to know the pain, and the loss. Is that reason enough for you, Mr Turgenova? Now just give me your answer. I need a gun for hire not a counsellor. I warn you though, do not play with me. You have no idea of my power and influence."

Both leather gloved hands were now clenched into fists and the black stained mouth twisted into a grimace of such fury and loathing that even Mobius felt a slight shiver as he held the stranger's gaze. This person, whoever they might be, clearly harboured some great antipathy towards the witches and he decided it would indeed be unwise to provoke them with further questions. He paused for a few more seconds, running the choices over in his mind and keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his own reflection in the stranger's dark glasses.

"OK, we'll do it" he replied, smuggler's greed and the knowledge that his organisation was desperately in need of funds finally overruling his fear of messing with the Bene Gesserit, "but I want six cases of spice".

The stranger's head moved slightly over to one side and their lips parted as if about to rebuke him for trying to up the ante but then were suddenly closed again.

"You drive a hard bargain, smuggler, but I accept your counter-offer" replied the latest client of the Turgenova smuggling group before pushing a second piece of paper across the table, "When you have my proof, bring it to this courier office. They will send for me and when I have seen evidence of the hag's demise you shall have your six cases of spice".

With that the contract was sealed. The case containing the down payment was pushed across the table before the stranger rose and swept back out of the bar without to much as a goodbye. Mobius was left staring at the arrival schedule and pondering exactly how they were going to pull this off without ending up dead or worse at the hands of the witches. Still, for seven cases of spice he would find a way. With that much funds in hand he might not even have to be so nice to those obnoxious Fremen next time they needed him.

[Miral Alechem]

Reverend Mother Miral Alechem lowered herself into the inflexible prefab chair adjourning her working desk, pondering the recent avalanche of events that came hurtling across space towards Kaitain and herself. Three days prior to that moment, a Bene Gesserit courier had sought her out to deliver a most unexpected message: Reverend Mother Josephine Vortigern and her attendants would arrive at the Imperial Palace within three days’ time for a private audience with the Truthsayer. No details were given about the reason for this visit, only that the shuttle would land inside the Palace grounds without stopping at the customary Spaceport checkpoints; all formalities would be dealt with by Palace Sardaukar. That alone told Miral there was great secrecy involved, and that RM Vortigern had her reasons to travel as incognito as possible. Had the Mother Superior herself been the passenger on that shuttle, security could hardly have been more stringent. However, it was the who and not the why that had peaked Miral’s interest: Josephine Vortigern was one of the most mystical figures in the Sisterhood: she was the Kwisatz Mother, the overall leader, protector and guide of the Kwisatz Haderach project, the age-long struggle to create a supreme male being who could bridge time and space and by all intents and purposes be a masculine Reverend Mother. Though her Other Memory provided Miral with a general knowledge of the project, more or less true for all Reverend Mothers, the details were known only to the Kwisatz Mother. Furthermore, she was not one chosen into her role – it was the Other Memories who chose her and revealed their jealously guarded secrets to her mind alone. Within the hour, Miral would be summoned to Reverend Mother Vortigern’s quarters to discuss something which must have carried enough importance for the Kwisatz Mother herself to risk space travel; being one so unique and precious to the Bene Gesserit, she had not left the planet in two decades. As she waited with the unwavering patience of a lifetime of discipline, Miral wondered what that could be, and why she hadn’t been summoned to Wallach IX instead. Was it the risk of being spied upon? The Sisterhood did not needlessly bring outsiders into the Kwisatz Haderach project.

Just as Miral pondered this, there came a pronounced rapping on the door; it was time for the audience. Expecting to be greeted by a competent Acolyte from RM Vortigern’s party, it took Miral a second to recollect herself from the surprise of seeing a young man in Palace livery standing before her and looking rather uneasy.

“Yes?”

“Forgive this intrusion, Reverend Mother” began the courier apologetically “I have a message for you.”

When she nodded, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a tubular package which Miral recognized as being Sisterhood standard use. Sensing something was wrong, she took it and instructed the courier to wait as she read it. If need be, she could question him further.Breaking the seal, the Reverend Mother unscrewed the top and retrieved a small object from within: a tiny dark grey cube bearing irregular indentations on each of its sides, small enough to fit between her thumb and index finger. It would have meant nothing to an outsider, but to Miral it was crystal clear; hastily she inspected each side of the cube with her fingers, feeling her pulse quickening as the message took shape:

“Foul play. RM Vortigern abducted off shuttle. All others dead. I alone escaped and followed. RM believed to be alive, and prisoner in an unknown location outside Imperial City. On my way to Wallach IX to bring assistance. Please stand by for rescue operations. Sister Lusia.”

Livid with barely subdued rage, Miral set the message container on her desk, then the cube. Her mind was reeling: the Kwisatz Mother, their only living link to thousands of years of genetic breeding, abducted, only believed to be living! One Acolyte left alive…and any rescue attempts still at least two days away! The magnitude of the disaster was enormous, and it chilled Miral to consider the apparent ease with which an entire group of the Sisterhood’s finest members had been subdued. It spoke of a carefully staged attack by individuals who knew what they were doing and had plenty of beforehand information. The implications could cause enough waves to form a veritable Tsunami within the Bene Gesserit, which was the reason why the Kwisatz Mother had to be rescued quickly and secretly.

Her senses dulled momentarily by the shock, Miral regained them with full acuity, never forgetting the increasingly wary presence of the young courier who stood erect and silent in front of the doorway. He barely had time for a brusque intake of breath as Miral’s black-shrouded silhouette darted across the room with the unreal swiftness that had earned her Sisterhood the nickname of “witches”, pinning him against the wall. Strong fingers tightened around his throat, her arm powerful enough to raise him a few centimeters above the ground and hold him there. The unfortunate man gagged and gasped for breath, trying desperately to relieve the pressure on his windpipe by balancing his body on the tips of his toes, but the fear of an even more severe treatment kept him from fighting back.

“Tell me how you got this message. Tell me everything and don’t lie…I will know.” Miral demanded flatly, her face devoid of emotion, her eyes twin lightless, frigid pits. The words rolled and flowed of her lips, seemingly rising and descending in intensity, bombarding her target’s alarmed senses with an irresistible lure. She could smell the acrid reek of his fear permeating the Palace uniform, see his pupils dilate wider and wider, and sense his heart quicken to a terrified beat. She released her grip enough for him to speak freely.

“A..a young woman stopped at one of the Palace rear entrances…said she had a message for Reverend Mother Alechem. The guards asked for her credentials, she had with her Bene Gesserit insignia. It cleared out. She looked harried and disheveled, but would not stay longer. I happened to return from an assignment in the city so I was given the package to deliver here.”

“Were you followed?”

“No, I am quite certain I wasn’t!” the courier assured her with all the confidence he could muster. “I took a rarely used short cut and only met a maid on the way.”

Miral released him and turned away, pondering this. He wasn’t lying, but he could have been followed without his knowing, so it didn’t matter. The damage was done. If the kidnappers had any eyes at the Palace, they would know she had been informed.

“Very well. Go, and speak to no one about this.”The young man did not need further encouragement.


***

A week after the dramatic arrival of the message cube, Miral Alechem paced the length of her quarters in an attempt to quell her irritation. After a lack of any reaction to Sister Lusia’s supposed call for help, Miral herself had dispatched a messenger to Wallach IX, bearing the same warning and requesting assistance in locating and rescuing the Kwisatz Mother. That plea, too, had gone unanswered, and Miral grew more and more suspicious that this “delay” was not coincidental. Someone was monitoring all departures from the palace and making sure they either never reached their destination or reached it too late. She was confident enough that she could have bypassed these individuals, but the matter was growing desperate. Despite her frustration at not being able to receive the help of other trained Sisters, Miral had not been idle: at times alone, other times in the company of her former Acolyte Lilith Piacevole for she trusted no other at the Palace, she had been able to complete a few reconnaissance flights aboard an unmarked Palace craft along the perimeter of Imperial City and its outskirts, descending in places that were most likely to be used as a makeshift criminal operation base, such as disaffected factories and the like. At last, through sheer luck, while eavesdropping in a dilapidated hovel the local workers used as their watering hole, she had overheard a man talking to his companion. Both were sufficiently intoxicated not to lower their voices, and were having an argument about “the witch” and what should “be done about it.” Miral didn’t linger enough to witness the end of the argument which had degenerated into a fist fight, but a few hours’ investigation revealed the presence of a rather large compound marked off limits that nobody was willing to give details about. Satisfied that Josephine Vortigern was still alive and having the knowledge of her whereabouts, Miral knew she had to make a choice. If the two drunken men’s words were to be trusted, there was some sort of opinion clash among the kidnappers, which meant they would be more distracted than usual. It was the perfect time for an infiltration attempt, if only enough able Sisters were available for it.

“The mark of a true Bene Gesserit is her ability to make difficult decisions and justly decide which risk is too great.” an old teacher of Miral’s had once said. She knew what possibility she was entertaining: that of going there herself, with Lilith, and rescuing the Kwisatz Mother before it was too late. In most cases, reason would have told her it was folly; the compound was large enough to house a hundred able men in a pinch, and they were only two, Bene Gesserit or not. Was the risk too great? Perhaps it was, but the situation demanded it, even if it meant the sacrifice of both their lives. For the first time in her life, Miral Alechem found herself wishing she had one of the ancient instant interplanetary communication devices used everywhere in the heretical times of the machine hegemony, quietly astonished and perversely amused at the blasphemy of it. No, that must never be again…at any cost. Beneath the looming shadow of that thought, Miral came to a decision.


***

An hour later, Miral sat opposite her Acolyte’s statue-like figure; she had wasted no time in finding her and explaining the situation. Lilith listened with practiced patience, and despite spectacular attempts to hide her uneasiness, Miral saw traces of it on the younger woman’s face in the split second it took her to recompose her features into an oval of perfect calm. It was the very first time Lilith had even heard of the Kwisatz project, and Miral knew she was breaking some important regulations by revealing this to her.

“Shall we leave right away, Reverend Mother?” inquired the redhead and Miral was pleased to find no traces of fear in her voice.

“Yes. But remember what I told you: don’t do anything reckless. We’re only going to inspect the perimeter of the compound and decide which way would be easiest to attempt a breach. We don’t want to be seen. Then, we are to return here and decide on a plan of action.”

Lilith nodded and both women rose from their seats, ready to leave. Half way down the corridor however, a harried-looking man wearing brilliant white clothes, red in the face and puffing barred their way. The unmistakable figure of Horance de Lanier, Imperial Chamberlain, crouched and pressed a hand against his chest, his eyes full of irritation.

“Reverend Mother, Reverend Mother!” he beckoned loudly. “Thank the Gods I found you…His Majesty called an emergency meeting and he demands your presence…it appears we have received a rather ah, impromptu visit from a Guild official and it cannot be avoided.”

Miral, who disliked the little man’s affected persona, took several menacing steps towards him.

“I am very busy at the moment, de Lanier. Can’t it wait?”

The Chamberlain, already annoyed at being reduced to the role of a mere courier, blushed scarlet, brows bristling:

“It is the Emperor’s wish, Reverend Mother!” he declared theatrically. Miral had to think quickly; even she could not openly refuse Elrood her presence in council if he wished it; it was, after all, her main assignment at the palace. At the same time, she absolutely did not wish to delay the mission any further; they had wasted enough time waiting already.

“Lilith” she said brusquely, turning to the younger woman. “Proceed as discussed. Come back and report to me when you’re done.”

“And you will regret it dearly if you stray from my instructions…” she thought waspishly, probing the younger woman with her pitiless gaze.With that, she pivoted on her heel and followed de Lanier down the corridor, leaving an astonished Lilith staring silently at their retreating figures.

[Elisha Montague]

The sun was just beginning to dip below Kaitain's perfect cloudless horizon when Elisha opened the door to her apartment. The youngest daughter and ambassador on Kaitain of House Montague was clad in a long robe remeniscent of the what she had worn during her Bene Gesserit training, dyed a deep crimson rather than the traditional Sisterhood black but otherwise decidedly anonymous, the exact look she had been aiming for considering where she was going. She wore minimal makeup and had combed her short blonde hair into its most severe style in an attempt to craft the image of one who was not to be trifled with.

"See you tomorrow then" she called out to her niece Lucy as she closed the door, not really expecting a reply since she could hear the steady thump of loud bass music from the girl's room.

Lucy would be staying over at a friend's house that night, alegedly for a late study session. This was most likely a cover story but provided the girl's grades did not slip then Elisha had made an agreement not to interfere in her personal life. She was too numbed by another tedious day of officialdom to care much anyway. The royal family had visited the Landsraad Assembly that day, meaning increased ceremony as well as heavier security both of which she detested. It had been quite fun though in a way to get a glimpse of the Corrino clan, for while she often despaired her own family's eccentricities it was worth remembering that they were decidedly normal compared to the Imperial House. The Princess Royal had been looking even more manic than usual, sporting new red streaks in her wild mane of hair and grinning from ear to ear as though privy to some hilarious joke. What must go on in the mind of someone so mentally afflicted? Perhaps it's better not to know really. As she walked down the spotless city centre street she mused that by contrast the Emperor had appeared at his most bored and disinterested, perking up only when a troupe of Jongleur actors put on a small performance to amuse the assembled nobles and ambassadors. His interest there was understandable of course since the leading lady was one of his many concubines. Elisha couldn't quite recall her name but then she didn't take nearly as much interest in the theatre as a young lady of noble birth should or as her parents would have liked. If the Empress Dominique had found it uncomfortable sitting beside her husband while he openly smiled at his thespian belle then she didn't give it away. In fact it had appeared as though she was making eyes of her own at someone just outside Elisha's field of view. Perhaps the rumours that the wife of Elrood IX was conducting an affair were true after all.

"No thank you" she replied, politely declining the offer of a well-muscled young man leaning out from a dimly lit doorway.

Elisha had no trouble finding all the physical pleasure she needed without the need to pay for it but the fact that she'd just passed a prostitute did prove a timely reminder that she was leaving the gilded heart of the city and entering a less than salubrious neighbourhood. Contrary to what the tourist guides said and what the Emperor would have his subjects believe, even Kaitain had its seedier areas; one just had to look a little harder to find them. Pulling up her hood she mentally shifted her senses into a higher gear, slowing her breathing and quickening her pace according to carefully learned instructions. She prided herself on the fact that even now, so many years after her departure from Wallach IX, the training and the skills still came to her almost as naturally as if she had a class with old Reverend Mother Tokugawa in an hour. Indeed they had been in her mind more than usual recently since she had been imparting some of the basic techniques to Lucy, a recent incident at Earl Ginaz's funeral making it obvious that the miserly Duke had not spent anything on teaching his granddaughter vital self-defence skills.

Well the next drunken letch who thinks he's getting his way will be in for a nasty surprise!

It felt good to be passing on some of what she had learned and Lucy was proving a capable student, but it did remind her of times past and stirred up bittersweet memories of camaraderie at the Mother School which she would never again experience. The old Proctors would surely feel secure in their decision to remove her if they could see her now, of that much Elisha was certain. The fact that she was on her way out to buy drugs and that she planned to consume them along with a goodly fill of alcohol at a party later would surely send Romus apoplectic. The old Proctor Superior was now Mother Superior of the entire Sisterhood, or so she remembered reading somewhere, and that lying temptress Miral Alechem was Emperor Elrood's truthsayer. Fortunately apart from a single awkward encounter at the coronation dinner she had not encountered Alechem about in Kaitain City. There was probably no reason to expect that she would really, since being a Bene Gesserit the old cow almost by definition had no life. Catching sight of herself for a moment in a mirrorplaz window however, Elisha’s mind once again played host to the nagging doubt that the way she lived her own life was taking its toll. In spite of putting in as much exercise time as she could manage and consuming all manner of vitamin supplements, her eyes without her usual makeup had a perpetually tired look about them and her hair untinted and unconditioned looked paler and thinner than she would have liked.

I still don't miss the Sisterhood or those dried up old bags. Live fast, die young, stay beautiful!

Any further contemplation or reminiscing on Elisha's part was curtailed though as she rounded the final corner and came within sight of her destination, for she at once sensed that she was not alone; a dark figure was watching her from the shadows. Why had she not detected this stranger already? Perhaps her sensory skills were rustier than she would like to admit. Well her combat skills were not, that was for sure. Indeed on occasion Elisha liked to take a provocative midnight walk around some of the rougher parts of the city, daring the muggers and drunks to take her on and leaving a few broken limbs and slashed faces in her wake to prove that she could still use to terrible effect what the Sisterhood had taught her. It looked as though she was going to get a little extra workout in advance of tonight's party.

"Alright" she hissed into the fading light, "Are you just going to lurk there or are you going to come over here and make things interesting? I should warn you though I've had a bad day and some over-confident little scrag looking to rob me could be just what I need to work off the frustration".

[Lilith Piacevole]

Lilith slipped inconspicuously between two large marble pillars at the end of the corridor, dissolving like a shadow in the dimness that concealed the entrance to one of the numerous secret rooms and passages that meshed across the Imperial Palace like one vast spiderweb. This one Lilith knew would bring her near one of the smaller service exits that opened into one of the many glittering arched avenues sprawling above and below ground in an intricately wrought labyrinth of plaz, plasteel and concrete polymer, forever basking in the light of thousands of glowglobes. Imperial City's flawless azure sky slowly darkened into a vibrant cobalt blue splashed with tones of pink, purple and flaming orange as Kaitain's star reached zenith, but the Palace and its surroundings never experienced anything darker than a gentle dusk.

Lilith's destination however resided far away from the dazzling brilliance of the city, in the obscurity of the outskirts, large enough to accommodate several large cities on Ancient Terra: the further one ventured, the clearer signs of crime and neglect became, and with them an assortment of shady individuals that roved around the endless blocks of manufacturing facilities, office buildings, refineries and all manner of establishments offering anything from smuggled melange to semuta and alcohol. There were almost no residences, given the fact that the price of living in the Empire's capital was exorbitant, and those who could afford it favoured more salubrious areas. Lilith stepped out of the groundcar hailed from the edge of the avenues surrounding the Palace, her mind hard at work simmering over the recent events. She slipped the driver some money and soundlessly crept across the street into the shadows that clung to the walls soaring high above her head on each side, the hem of her black robe rustling behind her.

She experienced a sting of shame at the apprehension she had felt when Miral had entrusted the reconnaissance mission into her hands alone. So much depended on it, that had been made clear to her by the Reverend Mother the previous week when she had disclosed the details of Josephine Vortigern's role and subsequent abduction, a situation quickly degenerating into a crisis as days passed and the Bene Gesserit offered no assistance, or even a response. The fact that Miral felt confident enough to send her alone to scout the perimeter of the storage facility they suspected Josephine Vortigern was held at was very suggestive: it meant she trusted her and her abilities which, for a young Sister who had ceased to be an Acolyte a mere year before, was a great confidence boost. Previously subdued through one of the most basic mental exercises available to a Bene Gesserit adept, Lilith's brief pang of fear evaporated completely at the thought, a slight satisfied smirk blossoming on her lips: if she played her cards right, this was just the beginning of another successful mission following in the footsteps of her completed assignment on Caladan where she successfully exposed a group of insurgents who had been boycotting local shipments and planted explosives in two Sisterhood embassy buildings.

Picturing a future glimpse of herself standing before the Mother Superior as she was commended for her excellent efforts, Lilith allowed her feet to carry her down the unfamiliar road, her senses continuously scanning for approaching vehicles and footsteps. So far so good, all seemed to be in order and nothing attracted her attention further...until the ember glow of a street light shone over a figure draped in a crimson robe that had been heading the same was as Lilith for half a minute: there was something very familiar about the way they moved, but... the person that memory was attached to simply couldn't be there...could she? And yet...she was. Trained to recognize the most subtle peculiarities of an individual's appearance, movements and mannerisms, Lilith could simply not mistake those of someone she had practically grown up with, and had seen every day for some odd thirteen years. Even after that long a separation, she knew exactly who that robed stranger was. Elisha Montague, in the flesh, was there, a revelation that caused her to halt abruptly, lingering just on the edge of the pool of light cast from the glowglobe above. The momentary sound of her feet brushing audibly against the pavement was however enough to compromise her secrecy.

"Alright" Elisha hissed into the fading light, "Are you just going to lurk there or are you going to come over here and make things interesting? I should warn you though I've had a bad day and some over-confident little scrag looking to rob me could be just what I need to work off the frustration."

An instantaneous warning ignited in Lilith's mind, reminding her why she was there. She had no time to spend prattling in the middle of a street, and yet the prospect of encountering her old 'friend' after all that time was far too tantalizing, especially then, infused by her recent burst of self-confidence. Not to mention, she was curious for a better glimpse of Elisha, and what sort 'frustration' she had come to work off in that part of town. Lilith simply couldn't resist.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” she intoned slyly and took a few steady steps forward into the streaming light. Freed of the hood's concealment emerged Lilith's pallid features, a brow arched beneath an evenly trimmed fringe and a slight smirk tugging at one corner of her lips as she keenly scrutinized Elisha.

“Well well...long time no see, Elisha. I notice you haven't changed, still as belligerent as ever. Although...you may not want to work off your frustration with me.”

[Elisha Montague]

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

That voice! Surely it couldn't be. She had she supposed, even if only semi-consciously, considered the possibility that Lilith might be on Kaitain. As Miral Alechem's acolyte she would be bound to go wherever her raven-haired mentor did, but if the thought had crossed her mind then it had not really registered. The Imperial capitol was vast and the likelihood of a chance meeting had to be remote. She had after all only seen Miral herself once since her own arrival. Surely there had to be some mistake, she must simply be imagining the familiarity in the voice, perhaps just unconsciously projecting the fact that she still deep down missed her friendship with Lilith onto this stranger in the dark. In reality it was probably just someone who remembered her from a party, perhaps like herself here in the rough part of town to buy narcotics. Elisha allowed her muscles to relax just an iota and watched the figure advance.

"Well well...long time no see, Elisha. I notice you haven't changed, still as belligerent as ever. Although...you may not want to work off your frustration with me."

Instantly Elisha tensed up again. There was no denying it now, she knew even before Lilith lowered her hood and stepped into the illumination of a nearby glowglobe which had come to life as the sun began to fade. For an instant, a precious instant, Elisha felt a surge of joy welling up inside her at the sight of her long lost friend. It had been five long years and still she had not made any new friends with whom there was quite such a bond as she and the daughter of House Piacevole once shared. Almost immediately though the feeling of elation was lost beneath a black tide of bitterness. She recalled their last meeting, where Lilith had openly boasted about becoming Alechem's acolyte and mocked their once dearly held principles of independence and freedom. This was no longer the old friend she remembered, indeed for all she knew it could now be a deadly new enemy who emerged from the shadows to face her.

"Hello Lilith" she replied at last, trying to sound confident as she stepped forward into the light herself and lowered her own hood. Momentarily the thought crossed her mind as to what Lilith would make of her slightly sickly appearance, but it was too late now. Damn it, why hadn't she put a bit more makeup on before she came out?

"Belligerence? I prefer to call it self-confidence, but perhaps five years of tongue-lashings from Mother Alechem have left you without so much of that, hmm? So what brings you to Kaitain then and out in a place like this? Has the old sadist decided to loosen the collar on her favorite puppy at last and let her out for a run?"

Even Elisha herself was taken somewhat aback by the vitriol in her words. If she had ever planned out in her head how it might be to meet Lilith again then she would surely not have imagined saying such things. Now suddenly it was as if all her long pent up feelings of resentment, betrayal and yes if she was completely honest with herself jealousy too were finding release in this gloomy street on the way to a smuggler's den. Had she gone too far? She had said nothing that the other girl did not deserve to hear, and the Lilith she remembered was not given to violent retaliation, but she was still forgetting that her one time friend had five extra years of Sisterhood training over her. If she chose to take offence and make a fight of it then it could get very ugly indeed. For the first time in a very long while thoughts of running entered Elisha's mind.

[Lilith Piacevole]

Five years had elapsed since that fateful day of Elisha's banishment from the Sisterhood, but to Lilith it felt like an eternity: a single day at Miral Alechem's side could give the same impression at times and she had experienced so much, seen so many strange and bewildering places that she could scarcely believe it had all happened within the span of just a few years. Something else, too, contributed to this impression that a whole epoch stretched between her and the blonde standing nearby: last time they'd seen one another Lilith was still clinging to the remains of their former ideals of so called “freedom”, disappointed in Elisha's rejection of their only opportunity to ascend higher and hurt by the loss of a life long friend, but what now emerged from the shadows was a fully-fledged Bene Gesserit, a talented prodigy with two difficult covert ops missions under her belt already. Lilith took great pride in her physical and mental prowess, polished to perfection under the cutting blade of Miral Alechem's exhaustive training, yet with it emerged a vain and overconfident streak. Yes, those five years had changed Lilith in many ways, and the first thought to cross her mind as Elisha stepped forward and reached for her hood was given to the sort of changes her former partner in mischief might have also undergone.

Briefly, a flash of memory transported her back into their old dormitory at the Motherschool where Lilith had lain awake many a night, staring at Elisha's empty bed while knowing her friend would never again sneak out of it to join her on an illicit expedition to the Spaceport. Those had been particularly difficult times and Lilith's intensified training was only part of it; she recalled the gaping emptiness of a lonely existence filled with bitter recollection of friendship lost and tears streaming down her face which even her trained self-control was unable to stop. For a split second, something similar twinged painfully in Lilith's chest before it was drowned out, extinguished as though it had never existed by the sight emerging before her eyes: freed of her hood, Elisha's features emerged.

"Hello Lilith" greeted a woman whom Lilith could only describe as looking “so much older than she remembered”. It was Elisha alright, down to the short-cropped blond hair (which nonetheless seemed to lack some of its former luster) and the defiance smouldering in those blue eyes that seemed just a touch duller than she recalled. She could glimpse a collection of subtle lines on her forehead, under her eyes and at the corners of her mouth that had not been there five years before as well as the suggestion of dark circles under Elisha's eyes. Yes...she looked tired, Lilith noted triumphantly: so, “independence” wasn't all fun and sunshine, and the world beyond Wallach IX not as welcoming as she'd hoped! Lilith was aware of the Ambassadorial position Elisha currently held in her father's stead, and imagined all too well how the interminable meetings and stuffy protocol would be driving Elisha mad. Unless, like her, she'd embraced her new existence, but the signs of weariness and her own admission pointed to the opposite. Ah, Elisha, Elisha...still a misfit.

"Belligerence?” challenged the other woman, then launched a veritable poison-filled rant her way: “I prefer to call it self-confidence, but perhaps five years of tongue-lashings from Mother Alechem have left you without so much of that, hmm? So what brings you to Kaitain then and out in a place like this? Has the old sadist decided to loosen the collar on her favorite puppy at last and let her out for a run?"

The string of vitriolic jabs shattered the silence, surprising Lilith with their lack of even the most basic emotional control. They said nothing new, just a rehash of the same arguments she'd always justified her decision to reject RM Alechem's offer, but it was the torrent of unrestrained emotion Lilith sensed in Elisha's voice that was most revealing: indeed, it was difficult to think she had once been considered a talented young Bene Gesserit adept. Lilith could only wonder whether she had also allowed her physical training to languish that way.

“A bad day indeed” was Lilith's only comment, allowing her lips to curl slightly. “Though I do have to wonder what a respectable Ambassador like yourself is doing in this part of the city. I'd wager neither the Landsraad nor your family would appreciate the publicity, should it become known. As for my reasons of being here, let's just say 'this puppy' gets around more than you could possibly imagine.”

[Mobius Turgenova]

Mobius turned away from the view of the setting sun through the small office's grimy window and began drumming his fingers on the hard wooden surface as he fought the urge to reach for the whiskey bottle he knew was in the desk drawer. No, alcohol would not help now. How had it come to this? The capture and execution of a Bene Gesserit prisoner had seemed like such a good if audacious idea at the time, and of course commanded the heftiest bounty he had been offered in his life, but now he was little better than a prisoner himself and thinking that perhaps he had allowed his eyes to be clouded too much by greed when he had met the mysterious stranger in black at that seedy Kaitain bar. He should never have accepted the contract, and he definitely shouldn’t have allowed the need for expediency to overrule his better judgement when it came to the hired help. Bringing in outsiders had been a necessity though not an option. With his own gang depleted by recent arrests and most of the remaining members back on Arrakis there was no way he could have done otherwise. While he would trust Tek and Yalara with his life together they were but three people. Even with twenty men and the aid of stun gas grenades the subduing of an orbiting shuttle full of Bene Gesserit had not gone easily and for them to try it alone would have been suicide.

No, it had been essential to find help but why had he gone for Vladimir? He knew the answer of course; the mere mention of the witches had caused all the other underworld contacts he floated the idea with to make their excuses and leave. Only Vladimir Utoshski the renowned drug dealer and mercenary had listened with interest and offered his support, and with time rapidly running out there had been little else for Mobius to do but wince at the hefty forty percent cut he demanded and agree. The loss of a sizeable chunk of the promised spice rapidly became the least of his worries though. Once the job was done and they were all safely sequestered in the drug lord’s secure hideout it became obvious that Utoshski now considered himself in charge of the operation and in a position to dictate terms. He had not said as such openly, for he still needed Mobius on side to make contact with the client, but the swagger in his walk and the look in his eyes revealed much. It was readily apparent to all three members of the Turgenova gang that they were expected to either play along and content themselves with a few crumbs from Vladimir’s table or they were going to come to harm. Where exactly those crumbs were supposed to come was itself soon called into question.

A week passed, the witch languished in chains, and Vladimir continued to make excuses when asked about contacting their sponsor and closing the deal. Mobius suspected and Tek had all but confirmed through his monitoring of the compound’s security systems that the bearded Grumman native was in fact trying to make contact with the Sisterhood itself, to see whether he could extract a ransom for the witch alive which was greater than what the mysterious stranger had already offered for her dead. This was an unbelievably stupid thing to do of course, Mobius mused to himself as he rose from his chair and crossed to where Tek was hacking into the camera feed again. The Bene Gesserit would pay no ransom, they would respond with force and woe betide anyone in the compound when they arrived. Mobius had long since stopped worrying about the promised spice and how Vladimir was trying to strong arm it away from him. The main task which now occupied the smuggler leader’s mind was how to extricate himself and his people from this situation before the witches came to smack down this bunch of fools.

[Elisha Montague]

A tense silence descended upon the deserted street and the two women continued to eyeball oneanother. Mindlessly oblivious to what was happening below the glowglobe carried on drifting in a lazy orbit about the two of them, picking out first one set of features and then the other with light and shadow. There atmosphere had a charged feeling to it, like the air before a thunderstorm. Yet neither of the former friends spoke again for now; for the moment although unmoving they were like two big cats circling one another. Who would blink first?

If Elisha's tirade could be likened to an erupting volcano of burning pent up fury then Lilith's words, striking home with breathtaking accuracy, had the sting of bitter icicles. Her one time friend had become so cold! There was definitely something of Miral Alechem about her now. Yet Elisha could not deny that there was truth in her old friend's words. What was she doing creeping about the rough end of town in the failing light of the evening? She was the daughter of a noble House of the Landsraad, an ambassador no less for her family here at the seat of Imperial government, she had received a fine education and been trained in arts of physical skill that few of the common citizenry could even hope to understand much less match. Yet here she was skulking off into the night to buy narcotics with the intention of blotting out all memory of the privileged life she had been gifted in a chemical haze. Was this indeed how she used her hard won independence?

I should be happy. I escaped the trap laid by Reverend Mother Alechem, I sought my freedom and I am supposed to have found it... so why do I suddenly feel like Lilith knows me better than I know myself?

Elisha found herself studying Lilith again and noting how much more alive she looked, how much more intense. She must have learned much in the last five years, dangerous knowledge, the kind that brought power and which Elisha had once hungered for herself. What had happened to her drive to better herself? There was a time when she had lusted after arcane secrets so badly that she had even braved the intimidating restricted section of the Bene Gesserit library. That felt like a lifetime ago. When had her ambition died? The Montague daughter suddenly felt very small as the magnitude of all she had thrown away was laid bare for her to see. Yet, she reminded herself, that knowledge and power came at a terrible price. For all her ice cool poise and newfound abilities Lilith was no longer her own person. She had entered into a Faustian pact and now her life belonged to Miral Alechem, to the Sisterhood. Never again would she be able to go where she wanted, do what she wanted, be with who she wanted. She was a puppet and however long her strings became with time and advancement she would always be so. Elisha still had her freedom, and while perhaps she was not currently using it to its finest purpose she at least possessed the luxury of choice. Perhaps they had both lost something that the other had retained. Perhaps in that they still shared something.

That thought brought with it a kind of catharsis for Elisha and she felt much of the bitterness which had overcome her before draining away. Not all of it, for she still harboured resentment towards Lilith for keeping secret her clandestine meeting with the Reverend Mother at a time when as best friends they had shared everything, but perhaps now she felt the beginnings of acceptance regarding the different choices the red haired young woman had made. It was time to put aside the anger, time for Elisha to exercise her much prized freedom and choose not to keep hating any more.

"I think we can both rightly wonder at what the other is doing here. It's obvious that we're not the same any more, that we've both made choices the other could not." she said at last, willing her body with no small amount of effort out of the fighting stance she had adopted, "It's been five years though, so perhaps we don't need to re-fight the battles of the past over again?

[Lilith Piacevole]

In the past, Lilith had envisioned what meeting Elisha again would be like on many different occasions. Nourished on anger and watered by loss, the first of these imagined encounters had focused on the colourful ways Lilith would berate Elisha for delivering the dual blow of choosing independence above everything else, including their friendship, and throwing away the greatest opportunity of her life. Later, as resentment faded and longing increased, Lilith would find herself doubting her own decision to conform and pictured with increasing envy a happy Elisha roaming the Known Universe, savouring her precious freedom while she endured such harrowing training as only Miral Alechem's perverse mind could conceive. Yet Lilith gritted her teeth and endured everything – the bewildering tests, the exhausting, often dangerous physical training, even Miral's unrelenting tyranny, determined not to be broken. Her lust for higher knowledge and awesome abilities kept her going, and once she began to actually reap the fruits of her labour, longing and doubt were eventually eroded away from her soul, along with most of what remained of Lilith's rebellious streak and yearning for lost friendships. Her tenaciousness now had a focus, and her innate craving to question tenets and consider new possibilities found a perfect outlet in the combat-espionage missions she began receiving during her last year as Acolyte. They offered nearly limitless vistas of possibilities, all subjected to Lilith's personal judgement where the only limit were her abilities, as long as the objectives were fulfilled. She thrived on these missions, finding in them the much needed outlet to balance out all the constrictions she otherwise had to bear as part of day-to-day life within the Bene Gesserit.

No matter how many times she'd pictured that moment however, Lilith had never quite considered a scenario in which she would engage Elisha in a physical fight and yet, as the two women stared the other down and barbed comments were exchanged, the possibility didn't seem far fetched. Accustomed to regard anyone as a potential adversary, Lilith noted her former friend's combat stance which could degenerate into an attack at any time. Despite not having shifted a single muscle, every fibre in Lilith's body was preparing for that eventuality, mentally calculating possibilities of how Elisha might launch her assault in order to single out the likeliest, including speed, distance and approach. Instinctively, her fingers clasped the sheath of the small, but wickedly sharp dagger she carried with her at all times, yet on this occasion, the gesture alone was enough to stir something deep, deep down that inadvertently sent a chill down her spine: this was Elisha, and there she stood, preparing to draw a blade against her!...What had changed so fundamentally that such a thing had become possible?

Lilith was not there for a fight, and not for one moment did her true assignment fade from her thoughts: precious time was wasting, time RM Vortigern did not have. As for Elisha...Lilith's feelings towards both her old friend and this chance meeting were remote and indescribable: there was a jumble of confused emotion secreted somewhere it could be kept from interfering with her senses, but she had yet to become hardened enough not to feel something akin to regret in face of the veritable gulf stretching between her and Elisha.

"I think we can both rightly wonder at what the other is doing here.” Elisha pointed out not without reason and once more Lilith's conditioning took focus as she began considering the probability of the other woman trying to follow her. She decided it was better that Elisha's own reasons for that nightly excursion remained hidden – she honestly did not wish to know, considering nostalgia already beckoned from some dark recess of her consciousness.

“It's obvious that we're not the same any more, that we've both made choices the other could not." the blonde continued and relaxed visibly. To this Lilith gave a small nod; she was preparing an exit, something she would most likely have done even without a crucial mission ahead, for what more did she and Elisha have to say to one another? That statement summed it up: they were no longer the same, and each of their lives would seem alien to the other. They could no longer relate, yet despite this Lilith found herself wishing she could ask how her former partner in mischief had fared during those five years, what it was like to experience their once shared ideal of “personal freedom” first hand. Lilith, however, said nothing, for what was the point in asking when the answer could be put to no good use?

"It's been five years though, so perhaps we don't need to re-fight the battles of the past over again?"

Lilith saw the olive branch being offered, something which normally she would have weighed against the counter option from a purely practical point of view, taking in account odds and the possibility of a bluff. Elisha's words however stirred a torrent of dormant memories in her, half-forgotten glimpses of happier times together and the pain of their separation which, she discovered, had not been entirely erased, only morphed into something Lilith could not quite define yet, and she hated herself for it. That was no time for emotional reunions, not when so much depended on her full capabilities! And yet, as she prepared to speak, the ice in Lilith's pale green eyes appeared to be withdrawing and her cruel lips softened; for an instant, her expression resembled that of a younger Lilith beneath the emotionless front she could now summon at will.

“No, perhaps we don't”, she agreed. “What's done is done. Last time we saw one another I told you I didn't expect we'd meet again, but one can never be certain of the future; only of the past.”

“I have to go now,” the young Sister continued following a brief interlude. “I hope you are able to find what you're looking for, Elisha.”

And on that final, cryptic note, Lilith turned on her heel and within seconds, she was swallowed by the darkness gaping in between two of the buildings lining the sidewalk.

[Elisha Montague]

Elisha remained where she was for several minutes, her eyes following Lilith into the gathering darkness and then remaining fixed on her path even after she had vanished from view. Part of her inner self urged her to follow, to call out, to take some kind of action before the girl who had been her best friend vanished out of her life once more. The other harder more cynical part said to let Lilith go, that this had just been one of those random once in a lifetime co-incidences and that there was no use trying to build it up into something it was not. Eventually the latter side of her psyche proved the stronger and with a sigh she once again filed Lilith Piacevole away in her memory under times past and returned her attention to the original reason she had come to this part of the city. Balthazar Grimaldi, the Landsraad ambassador for House Moritani, would be hosting one of his infamous parties later that evening and Elisha had accepted an invitation to attend.

Balthazar and Elisha were, if not good friends, at least close acquaintances and his parties were legendary in ambassadorial and civil service circles for their expense and decadence. There would be music, wine and food aplenty but it was the accepted convention that guests brought and shared around their own narcotics. As she trudged the last few metres down the darkening street she wondered if her friends Amyssa Magorian and Liana Mutelli would be there. She hoped so, both because given the tiny proportion of female ambassadors the three of them liked to stick together and also because she really needed a friend now. She thought back wistfully to when she had been part of an earlier trio of friends, on Wallach IX five long years ago. Finally she came within sight of her destination, a large warehouse complex specialising in the sale of illegal drugs.

The majority of narcotics were of course perfectly legal in themselves, but they were taxed heavily by the Imperium and by various local fiefdoms, so it was not uncommon for people to turn to black market dealers. Most members of the nobility were above such things, but Elisha's tastes frequently exceeded her father's miserly allowance and in any case she actually enjoyed the slight feeling of risk venturing out to buy contraband from Vlad's Goods & Trade. The compound itself was fronted by a drab grey office building three storeys high with a large warehouse off to the left. Three further warehouses were set further back and beyond those was a small private landing strip where three shuttlecraft could just be made out. The windows were all tinted darkplaz with little illumination showing from within and some of them were barred, ostensibly for security although Elisha didn't doubt that there were times when these underworld types needed to keep people in as well as out. The entire site was surrounded by a high steel fence topped with razor wire and light poles, now lit up to combat the growing gloom, and security cameras were spaced at regular intervals. Elisha's keen senses also alerted her to the silhouettes of guards patrolling inside the perimeter, something she had not noticed on previous visits. Maybe Vlad was concerned about a raid by the authorities, or perhaps by a rival underworld operator.

Entrance was through a pair of sturdy durasteel gates, currently unguarded but with a security post set over to the left and a small bloom of cameras and scanning devices sprouting above, and then across a dusty paved courtyard to the office block. Within the place appeared not dissimilar to the lobby in plush hotel, with a long counter over which business was conducted and a number of comfortable chairs surrounding low tables upon which could be found some magazines together with catalogues of the company's inventory. Of course the catalogues listed only the tiny legal fraction of the actual merchandise available and were there primarily to create a good impression in case a law enforcement officer wandered in; real customers would already know exactly what they wanted and ask for it by name. Soft baliset music could be heard, piped into the room from cleverly concealed speakers, and the walls were decorated with cheap copies of various famous artworks. The overall effect was kitschy but effective.

Elisha stepped inside and noted that there were no other customers present, which was how she liked it. Nevertheless she kept her hood raised as she approached the counter and put her finger to the button marked 'please buzz for attention'.

"Miss Rainelle! Good to see you! Good to see you!" a short moustachioed man called out enthusiastically as he emerged from the small office behind the counter.

Elisha had been using a false name for as long as she had been patronising Vlad's since, as Lilith had rightly observed, it would not do for an ambassador of the Landsraad to be caught in an illegal narcotics warehouse. Returning the swarthy man's greeting Elisha peered past him into the back office, noting a chair and table together with various paperwork as well as a desk terminal which appeared to be hooked into the compound's security camera network. Further along the back wall was another heavier door clearly marked 'staff only - no admittance'. Most people would not even register such things, but petit perception was now part of her instincts even so long after she had ceased being tested in its use. Mustafa, the man who nearly always manned the front desk, was dressed stylishly as usual in a fine silk tunic and pants together with a not inconsiderable amount of brash gold jewellery. He looked the very image of a loud and over familiar salesman, but the telltale bulge at his waist suggested a concealed weapon and Elisha had known him long enough to estimate that he was probably much more dangerous than his short stature and ebullient manner might suggest.

Doubtless there were even tougher characters in and around the actual warehouses ready to deal with anyone foolish enough to try and rob the place. Mustafa was usually alright though, except perhaps for an obviously lascivious interest in her breasts. Still, she turned that to her advantage and could usually get him to knock a few solaris off the final price in exchange for a flash of cleavage. Adjusting her robe so that it fell open at the top Elisha leaned over the counter.

"So will it be your usual?" enquired Mustafa , his eyes wandering downwards with obvious delight, "We got a new shipment of pills in this afternoon! The guys are still unloading them now. You want some spice too, right? We got spice, fresh from the sands of Dune, not that refined stuff the richece buy; this is proper spice!"

Elisha paused, thinking back to her meeting with Lilith even as she returned Mustafa's expectant gaze. The way her ex-friend had looked her up and down earlier had touched a nerve. Lilith had obviously noticed her slightly worn and dishevelled appearance and would surely have made mental comparisons to her own tightly honed body and steely-eyed poise. Perhaps, Elisha thought to herself, she had been over doing it rather of late. She would not leave empty handed having come all this way, but maybe she would settle for less than she had originally planned to buy; maybe just something to give her a little buzz at the party and then retire to bed at a sensible hour.

[Lilith Piacevole]

Quickened footsteps brought Lilith further and further away from Elisha's stationary form, reduced to a pinprick surrounded by dull light that was eventually removed from view altogether as soon as she rounded the first corner. There, secluded in the compact darkness of that small quarter, Lilith paused and allowed her mind five seconds' respite in order to categorize the recent developments. Words and images washed over the backdrop of her lowered eyelids with the succession of a projected film, ready to be categorized along with the rest of her memories. Five seconds were all Lilith would give them before purging her consciousness of all but the assignment on hand; when she was on the move again, Elisha, the meeting, all those vague emotions and unwelcome recollections had ceased to exist in her immediate awareness.

Lilith was somewhat familiar with the area from her recent scouting trips in Miral's company, and even general knowledge allowed a trained Bene Gesserit to move efficiently and soundlessly as well as locate the best vantage point to begin surveillance. Several locations had been discussed previously, all peripheral buildings taller than the compound thus commanding a good view of its perimeter. Approaching from the western side, Lilith paused to calculate the relative distance between the compound fence and the nearest building, an office terminal housing several hundred rooms rented out to various companies and their clerks; she knew this, because she'd examined a map procured by Miral as soon as they were able to locate RM Vortigern's whereabouts, just as she knew that the target complex was a commercial facility by the name of Vlad's Goods & Trade. It was suspected that Vlad traded more than his official catalogues claimed, but contraband wasn't Lilith's concern: she was there to observe, record and ascertain which the best entry point would be.

Even before climbing to the optimal height, Lilith noted the tall steel fence with rolls of unassuming wire topping it – a deadly trap, for the presence of sighawire was immediately noted- and surveillance cameras placed at regular intervals. Lilith's acute hearing also picked up the sound of footsteps, regular and unhurried, at least two individuals patrolling that section. The security measures surpassed what one would expect in a run-off-the-mill Kaitain trading post, a telltale indication that the kidnappers were well aware of the risks involved. That wasn't surprising: anyone with the cunning (not to mention guts) to attack a Bene Gesserit shuttle and kidnap a Reverend Mother off planet had to know the dangers hardly ended there; they just didn't know how right they were.

Next, Lilith turned to the dark office building on her right; it was rectangular, soaring high into the starry Kaitain sky, with balconies extending outwards every two stories. Not wasting any more time, Lilith slid open her robe at both the back and front, tying the halves around each ankle; underneath she wore an elastic bodysuit similar to those used for training which did not restrict her movements. A pair of flexible shoes with soles designed for finding grip onto most surfaces encased her feet, both light and durable. Retractable suction pads were then activated, sliding accurately into place over Lilith's palms and knees, powered by a small device harnessed around her torso. And so, she commenced her ascent along the smooth outer wall of the building, inching her way without sound or haste until she was able to reach the first step of the folded emergency ladder which ran parallel with the balconies. From there, reaching the second story window was easy, where one could remain perfectly secreted onto the extended ledge even if the room beyond happened to be occupied. It was, however, not, as Lilith ensured upon eavesdropping by means of a hearing amplifier, conveniently disguised in the shape of a round metallic earring in her left lobe. It couldn't penetrate soundproof materials of course, but the standard darkplaz window pane did not contain any such reinforcements. It sufficed to say Lilith had not come unprepared: the inner pockets of her robe also concealed the aforementioned dagger, an instrument containing retractable clippers and blades for slicing through a wide variety of materials and Lilith's personal favourite, an image ampcorder of the finest Ixian manufacture, capable of zooming into great distances with pinpoint accuracy, rendering both infrared and thermal images as well as recording them at the click of a button. This trusty gadget had proved most useful in many of Lilith's assignments and missions, and through its electronically enhanced lenses the young Sister began observing the compound. An overall picture was drawn first, Lilith striving to identify and photograph – both mentally and through the ampcorder - the general design and features of the place, for future reference. This was no real challenge, as she had been trained in the art of eidetic memory, making both records equally reliable.

Lilith then focused on details and variables: the number of patrolling guards, cameras and potential blind spots, service entrances and skylights that could serve as access routes. There was the matter of bypassing the sighawire fence; its very presence suggested that the rest of it was also likely to have been constructed from a type of alloy difficult to cut through. An enhanced glimpse of the perimeter cameras revealed the telltale presence of intermittent green lights – all in all, the compound had decent security and no doubt there was more to be found inside. The captive Reverend Mother had to have been brought within the very heart of the complex or underneath it, away from immediate reach. Lilith was about to end the first stage of the operation and move towards the second outpost, when something peculiar caught her eye as she moved from the edge of the complex towards its centre.

Initially, the only thing that registered was that something felt different about the images passing before her eyes, a detail, something infinitesimal...soon the pieces fell into place, revealing the source of this abnormality: the cameras! They were entirely dark now, without any sign of blinking green lights! Breathlessly, Lilith moved her gaze from one pillar to the other in order to make sure this was indeed the case, while trying to decipher the meaning of this most unexpected development. Someone had switched the perimeter cameras off – the obvious questions were who, why, and what should she do.

Technically, Lilith's assignment entailed observation only, as per Miral's orders; a plan of action would be devised by them both upon her return at the palace. This, however, changed things, bringing doubt into her heart and inciting her thoughts towards a most unthinkable possibility: that of going in herself, right then and there. The very thought of disobeying Miral Alechem's orders was enough to quicken Lilith's pulse, though chances were she would not live to receive the Reverend Mother's reaction: one woman against a whole building full of armed individuals, it was madness! On the other hand...wasn't that precisely what Miral had in mind? Certainly, with the deadly Truthsayer at her side, chances of a successful rescue were greatly increased, but there was no telling how long the surveillance cameras would remain off. Someone had disabled them, for a reason that may or may not be related to the captive Reverend Mother, but one thing was certain: it would be soon discovered and when that happened, there was no telling what new challenges it might create. In any case, every last of the captors would be on their guard and deadlier than ever, ready to shoot first and ask questions later. When panic and suspicion settled in, RM Vortigern herself could become one of the victims caught in the crossfire, and all would be lost.

[Mobius Turgenova]

"They're here!"

Tek turned fluidly in his seat, long black coat lending him the appearance of a shifting shadow, and faced his leader expectantly. Mobius cast the swiftest of glances at the terminal monitor and saw the crouching form clad in an aba robe ascending the wall of a neighboring building. Although the witches wore no standard uniform or insignia there was something about the way the figure moved and climbed that just screamed 'Bene Gesserit'. Tek saw it and Mobius saw it too, this had to be the beginnings of the rescue attempt they had been expecting. Nobody else would know yet, for Tek had hacked into the ill-protected security system and inserted a four minute delay into the image feed, but they had to act fast. Mobius needed no time to think on the matter.

"Do it!" he replied.

Tek's hands flew across the terminal's keypads and within seconds every single security camera in Vladimir's compound went dead. He then sprang from his chair and disappeared into the adjoining office to fetch Yalara who was asleep ready to take the first watch later that night; the trio had a healthy enough distrust of Vladimir that they never all slept at the same time. By the time the Ixian and the girl from Arrakis returned Mobius had retrieved from the desk his slug pistol and some gas grenades that they had stolen earlier; he already had his trusty blade. They were ready to move and it would have to be fast.

"So the witches have come to rescue their own?" enquired Yalara, to which Mobius nodded a quick reply.

"As we expected" continued the Fremen, "That Vladimir is a fool thinking he could hold her here and demand a ransom. I would have taken the bitch's water while still on board the shuttle. Quick and easy and we would all be away with our reward by now".

Mobius wasted no time on a further reply for he knew that the clock was ticking. Right now everyone else would still be watching the time delayed camera footage, but they had perhaps three minutes at most before that ran out and then there would be chaos. Tek had estimated it would take an extra ten minutes, maybe fifteen if they were lucky, after that to locate and fix the problem and then the security systems would be back online.

"Go!" he hissed, sliding open the door and slipping out into the drab grey corridor, ill lit with only a couple of glowglobes drifting lazily.

Tek and Yalara followed immediately, weapons drawn and hugging the wall. Tek carried a curious looking laspistol of his own modified design, that he insisted contained a proximity sensor which would not permit it to be fired if the target was using a Holtzmann shield. Mobius wasn't sure he trusted such things but it had not let them down in the past and had in fact proved invaluable for getting the drop on the over-confident who had not yet activated their shields. Yalara never wielded anything other than her exotic looking Fremen knife, but Mobius knew that for all its curious appearance it was absolutely deadly. Right now any advantages the three of them could bring to bear against an enemy who heavily outnumbered them had to be seized.

"This way" whispered Tek, who had been studying the layout of the compound using the security network, "There should only be one guard at the top of these stairs, then we slip round the side of warehouse two and make a break for the shuttles. A lot of them are probably still in the bunker keeping an eye on the witch, or if they aren't now then they soon will be".

Mobius nodded, well aware of the network of secure underground rooms hidden beneath the site in which the captive Reverend Mother was being held and to which most of the mercenaries would likely fall back if attacked. He wondered if the approaching Bene Gesserit would suspect underground structures or whether they would waste time exploring the offices and warehouses first. Either way anything which kept Vladimir’s men occupied was a good thing, but it was essential that he and his group get to the shuttlecraft before anyone else. Carefully, desperate not to make too much noise, he eased open the door at the top of the stairwell.

"Hey who's... oh it's you. Listen the bathroom is back up there and to the left. Vlad doesn't want you coming down this way." began the guard just inside, a short wiry fellow who Mobius could vaguely recall being called Kendrick.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'll just be leaving..." Mobius started to reply but did not need to complete his sentence before the man crumpled up and slumped to the ground, the tip of Yalara's blade visible through the front of his neck.

Kendrick had barely had time to hit the floor before the trio began their descent of the stairwell, not even wasting any time searching the body. Mobius estimated they had at most a minute left before the security monitors shut down, and then all hell would break loose. He half wondered if there had been enough time for the robed climbing figure to get inside the building yet, although he guessed that did not matter since whoever that was would only be the forward scout for a much larger Sisterhood group that was sure to arrive at any moment. He fervently hoped that they would be inside a shuttle and away before the real fighting kicked off.

[Lilith Piacevole]

The acute direness of the situation had all of Lilith's senses in overdrive: time was of the essence, when mere seconds could mean the difference between success and failure. The young Bene Gesserit needed to decide how to act – and fast. One thing seemed certain: whoever had disabled the perimeter cameras would no doubt have done the same to the ones inside, otherwise there seemed little point to it all considering the patrols offered the only sign of movement beyond the sighawire-topped fences – someone was trying to get out unnoticed – or give some one else the opportunity to enter. A plausible explanation could be that Sisterhood agents had already penetrated the compound's defences and were creating a diversion – in which case, Lilith felt compelled to lend assistance. It was also possible that some of the kidnappers had gotten cold feet and were attempting a stealthy getaway – not unlikely, considering the argument regarding “the witch” she and Miral had overheard in that seedy bar. Mistakenly, Lilith didn't stop to consider that she was the reason the cameras went dead, that she'd been spotted and that there were some among the kidnappers who wanted the Bene Gesserit to storm the complex while they made their escape.

Blinded to the possibility by her emerging streak of dangerous over-confidence and the smoothness of the mission so far, Lilith believed herself to be invisible to any prying eyes and that the compound lacked the kind of security systems capable of noticing her stealthy ascent of the neighbouring building in all but complete darkness; she had encountered only standard perimeter surveillance and had kept out of range of the usual sensors a place like that was likely to have – it was, after all, not a military base. Even though the sighawire topping the fences should have tipped her off, Lilith judged the probability of Vlad having acquired top grade Ixian security systems or similar to be unlikely with the paper trail it would leave behind even if he could afford it, not taking in account the possibility of actual Ixian involvement.

One tenet of Bene Gesserit training involved speedy decision making processes and focused on the ability to follow through without doubt or hesitation in order to waste as little action time as possible. With the fluidity of a passing shadow, Lilith abandoned her vantage point on the window sill and descended into the quiet balcony on her left which extended a couple of meters outwards. A quick estimate told Lilith whether it was possible to leap over the fence and whether she could break her fall enough to avoid injury. Unaided, she could not, but Lilith had with her one last tool: a coil of rope with attachable ends. This she fastened into place around the railing, forming a loop on the other end. With one foot in it, she then lowered herself over the edge, where she remained dangling in mid air: she had maybe forty seconds before the patrol crossed that area and spotted her. Wanting to be inside the perimeter before that happened, Lilith began building the momentum needed for the jump, each leap increasing her speed and bringing her nearer to the menacing fence looming some two meters below. At the opportune moment she released the rope, gathered her knees to her chest and, in a blur of dizzying flight she darted over the fence beyond which she landed with a thud and two additional tumbles which were muffled by the grassy undergrowth.

As she got to her feet, Lilith could feel the bruising and scraping she'd sustained but since neither was serious, she simply switched the pain out of her mind; instead she froze into the shadow of a corner, counting the paces of the man approaching. The movements were cautious and deliberately slow, meaning he was aware of suspect noises nearby. He carried a lasgun, which fell limply from his hands as Lilith leapt from her hiding place like a vengeful shadow, ruthless fingers closing over his mouth to prevent him from crying out during the moment it took her to twist his neck. Without as much as a glance towards the figure crumpled at her feet, Lilith instead picked up the lasgun, keenly on the lookout for the second guard who was just rounding the corner, unaware of his partner's demise. The presence of lasguns implied the lack of body shields, and a single discharge to his brain dispatched him as soon as he fell in range of Lilith's weapon. She had no way of telling how far she was able to get before the compound residents were alerted to her presence, and it was vital that she found her way inside before the alarm was sounded. Lilith then discarded the gun – further adversaries were likely to employ shields and it was simply not worth the risk- and turned her attention to the brick wall rising above her head: unlike the surrounding monoliths of sleek plasteel and plaz, the compound sprawled in length but not so much in height and was in fact composed of several warehouses with smaller, adjacent buildings. One one of these was on Lilith's right, and above it she glimpsed what appeared to be the entrance to a ventilation shaft.

Using a stack of crates as a ladder then scaling the rest of the wall, the young Bene Gesserit gained the first roof with enough ease, then removed the dusty vent which revealed a lightless, rectangular tunnel stretching unfathomably ahead. Although not thrilled at the prospect of exploring it in complete darkness, Lilith had no choice: she would have to rely on her other senses instead.

Progress proved slow and painstaking, though light began filtering through the evenly placed grates as soon as the vent reached inhabited areas of the complex: all drab concrete hallways as far as Lilith could see, and so far deserted. She was nonetheless forced to advance by sliding to avoid clattering through the confining metal shaft. Deciding where to exit proved equally problematic: she had only a general idea where she was and who or what she might encounter ahead, where her unwieldy hiding place could become a deadly trap if discovered, but at the same time she felt reticent about leaving the temporary safety provided by the vents, from where she could observe without being seen.

Lilith paused over the grate leading into one of the many corridors sprawling across the compound, listening intently for sign of movement: it seemed deserted, for the time being at least, and a good a place as any to emerge. Once down, Lilith discovered there was another corridor running perpendicular with the one she currently stood in, and she barely had the time to leap into its opening before the door behind her opened to admit a man armed with a slug pistol. To her dismay, footsteps could also be heard echoing down the dimly-lit hallway she currently crouched into, effectively trapping her. Lilith hoped the nearest intruder would have cleared the area before the second arrived, but one shouted “Hey!” shattered any such hope: she had been sighted!

Discarding all stealth, the young woman leapt to her feet and, dagger in hand, engaged her attacker. A strategic kick to his solar plexus had him doubling over and gasping for air, but not before he fired a shot at Lilith, which grazed her temple and left a searing gash behind. The pain soaked her senses like acid, rousing all the deadly skill she was capable of and which now directed her movements: in one leap, she was upon him and her blade sliced through his heart. Within the same motion she retrieved it and flung it backwards at the second mercenary who had arrived to investigate. It hit his shoulder and he stumbled backwards, groaning and spluttering and firing at random: but Lilith was already reaching for him. An unyielding arm grasped him from behind while the other pulled out the dagger, pointing it at the vein throbbing in his neck.

“Move.” the flat order was issued.

“You're wasting your time, witch, if you think you can use me.” the man jeered in between gasps as he was being forced to move forward. “I won't tell you anything!”

Lilith ignored him; she had a hostage, and while this lowlife scum may not have any loyalty except for his own skin, she could use him. The sound of approaching footsteps sliced through her awareness: the gunshots had been noticed and reinforcements were racing for the door.

“Lock it,” she commanded, this time employing her Voice. It was enough to send her captive stumbling forward to obey. “Now override the access code.”

A cacophony of shouted commands, curses and forceful banging on the blocked entrance erupted on the other side of it – Lilith turned to the man in her clutches:

“Take me to your prisoner and be warned: if you try anything, I will kill you.”

With the dagger's tip grazing the man's jugular, Lilith let herself be lead deep into the bowels of the structure, barely clearing two corridors before a siren's overpowering wail exploded in her ears and armed individuals came pouring out of each doorway. They froze momentarily at the sight of them, the tell-tale humming of their shields reverberating in the electrified stillness. While several hesitated, the mercenary fronting the squad flashed Lilith a leering grin and raised his weapon: there was a pop and a moment later the hostage went slack in her arms, head lolling grotesquely from side to side.

The confrontation had begun.

[Elisha Montague]

The earlier meeting with Lilith had crystalized thoughts which had been nagging from the dark recesses of Elisha's mind for a long time now. She was over-doing it of late; her skills were slipping and her physical appearance was paying the price of excessive substance use. While she remained proud of her choices perhaps the meeting with her old friend had proven a timely reminder that freedom was a dangerous path and could lead one perilously close to the abyss of self-destruction. It was time for her to bring her life back into balance with a little more self-discipline and a little less self-indulgence.

"I think nothing too mind-blowing tonight" Elisha began, noting the disappointed look beginning to form on Mustafa's face almost immediately and shifting her stance to counter it with a more generous flash of cleavage while readying herself for the counter-attack of haggling that would surely follow, "I have a tough day at work tomorrow and I can't afford to get too out of my head".

Mustafa opened his mouth to speak but the wailing cry of an alarm cut him off before he could say anything. Instantly and instinctively Elisha shifted her muscles under her robe, slipping effortlessly into a stance of readiness while barely changing her visible position leaning against the counter. Bene Gesserit physical training and reflexes ran deep, but at the same time she also recalled Mother Kovacha's favorite maxim: the Bene Gesserit reads the situation, she responds to it, even takes command of it when necessary; she never allows it to control her.

"Ahhh, please wait here Miss" breathed Mustafa in a hasty surprised tone which betrayed an undercurrent of fear, "I'm sure it's just a drill but for your own safety please don't move".

With that he quickly disappeared through the door behind the counter, in such a hurry Elisha noted that he banged it shut behind him without making sure it had closed properly. For all their expensive security systems and razor fences these people were amateurs, lacking the exquisitely honed martial and tactical training of a Bene Gesserit Sister, a Ginaz Swordmaster or a Sardaukar soldier and instead relying on brute force and strengh of numbers. Thoughts of the security system however attracted her attention to the terminal in the back office, and what she saw there made her blood run cold: a black-clad figure climbing the wall of a nearby building, using movements that her trained eye instantly identified as Sisterhood techniques. The image lasted only a few seconds before the screen went black, disabled somehow, but those few seconds were all it took to set Elisha's mind racing.

Lilith? Here? But why? And why alone?

The last question bothered her the most. It was not unheard of for lone Sisters to enter hostile territory on espionage missions, but the alarm together with the sounds of voices and booted feet running down hallways suggested that the elements of stealth and surprise had now been lost. Whether deliberate or not it was clear that whatever Lilith was doing here was now about fighting rather than sneaking. Elisha began to regret her decision even as she rose from the counter and moved towards the door which Mustafa had taken only minutes before, but something deeper than her own self-interest or a cold tactical assessment of the situation was at work now. Even as she accepted that she was probably making a huge mistake, she could not allow the woman who had once been her best friend to face mortal danger alone.There was no sign of Mustafa or indeed of anyone else in the mostly featureless corridor which stretched ahead of her ending in a set of double doors which her intuition told her probably lead to a stairwell. Side passages connected to the left and the right about half way down and she crept past several closed doorways which punctuated the grimy walls. The shouting and sounds of movement continued though and suggested that whatever action was taking place could not be far away. Hugging the wall Elisha followed the noises, ducking into a doorway and flattening herself against the door as two burly men burst out through the double doors and hurried past her in the opposite direction, perhaps to secure the front gate. They had not seen her, which was no small slice of luck considering that her red robe afforded precious little camouflage, but the close call jogged the more rational analytical part of Elisha's mind back to life.

"OK witch, that's enough. Think you're tough picking on the rookie do you? Well let's do this just you and me. Cover me, boys."

That sounded like the beginnings of a confrontation and Elisha quickened her pace, while still wondering what was she doing there at all. Whatever Lilith was up to surely she could handle herself without assistance or else the Sisterhood would have not have sent her alone. Why was she about to involve herself in a fight in which she had no stake, alienate a group of useful underworld contacts who would be difficult to replace, and render help to someone who almost certainly would not thank her for it? Her answer came as she ascended the stairs to the next level up and rounded a bend in the hallway. Two men lay dead on the floor already, one in a growing pool of blood which suggested a gunshot wound to the chest and the other with his neck twisted in a gruesome manner which looked like Bene Gesserit handwork. Backed into a doorway was Lilith - she could see clearly now that it definitely was Lilith - engaged in a fight for her life against a burly knifeman who was clearly pressing the advantage his personal shield afforded him. Two more men crouched on either side of the corridor, backs to Elisha, trying to find aim with their slug pistols.

Instinctively Elisha moved on the closest target, feeling the sharp sting of static as the smuggler's body shield connected with her skin. Deliberately slowing her movements she fought for purchase against the humming barrier and succeeded in getting one arm around his neck before he fully registered what was happening. Springing to his feet the smuggler tried to shake off his unseen attacker, and when this did not work he backed up hard against the corridor wall in an attempt to stun and crush her into letting go. Elisha held on as best she could, feeling the pain of impact against the wall roll over her like an avalanche and gritting her teeth against both it and the steady pressure which followed. One more hard smash like that and she would be forced to release her grip, but her opponent did not realise that by attempting to squash her against the wall he had actually aided her in getting her other hand inside his shield, and it was this hand which now sought out the blade sheathed at his waist. Grabbing the knife and thrusting it inward and upward with practised skill guaranteed to cause both searing pain and fatal internal injuries Elisha pushed the now limp man off her and faced off against his companion.

"Who're you? Another witch? Well come on then! You want some?!"

The bravado in the man's voice did not quite mask a hint of fear which was easy to read; even though she was technically no longer part of the Sisterhood, the attendant mystique of appearing to be so was not to be overlooked. A high kick sent the second smuggler's pistol flying down the corridor and skidding into an open doorway, but not before he had managed to get off one ill-timed and ill-aimed shot which just grazed her upper arm. Trying to will the pain away she glanced quickly to her right to see that Lilith still struggling with the tall man in the doorway, but at least the fight had been evened up somewhat now. Shifting the blade taken from her fallen foe into her preferred knife hand she advanced on her new opponent, a short stocky man whose face seemed to be twisted into a permanent leer. The element of surprise now gone it was time for some proper in-fighting. The rational part of her mind was still screaming at her that she was trespassing into secret Sisterhood business and that Lilith would most likely resent her interference whether it helped save her life or not but another part of Elisha's psyche, the highly trained fighter and martial artist who had once won praise even from gruff old Mother Tokugawa, was already imagining herself back in the training hall on Wallach IX and enjoying and adrenaline rush of a much higher order than she ever felt taking on street urchins.

[Lilith Piacevole]

Without taking her eyes off the mercenary squad advancing on her, Lilith discarded the now useless body of her dead hostage, which promptly slumped on the hard concrete floor. Wishing to eliminate all obstacles in the fight which was sure to follow, the young Bene Gesserit stepped over it and faced the five men without as much as a flinch. There was a tingling expectancy in the air as the adversaries sized each other up and planned their attack strategy, something that Lilith had set into motion the instant they had invaded the corridor to block her way: everything from their height, body weight to their stance and expression was duly noted, pointing out the greatest danger: the muscular man fronting the group, who'd showed no hesitation in killing one of his own and currently wore an expression of smug superiority. Such individuals were dangerous, and one could expect them to try every dirty trick in the book.

His companions showed varying signs of uneasiness which they hid more or less successfully, and Lilith could gather from their hesitation that they fully expected her to soon be joined by larger numbers of Sisterhood agents. To further prove that point, the burly leader shifted his head slightly to his left, where the youngest of the group stood clutching his pistol.

“You.” he grunted, without letting Lilith out of his sight. “Go and find Vlad, then send out this message to everybody: a witch has infiltrated the compound, and there are probably more. No-one down in the bunker is to leave their posts, got that? The rest, secure the building, we are on high alert. Now, go! We'll take care of this.”

The man didn't wait to be told again: he turned around and was soon out of sight as he bolted through a set of doors. To Lilith, it simply meant one less adversary; every muscle in her body was tightened like a cord, poised to strike. Still, she waited for her enemies to make the first move, hoping one of them would be foolish enough to advance on her alone. As it turned out, she hadn't been wrong to expect it.

“What are we afraid of?” demanded a tall and sinewy man standing just behind his leader, the only one without an activated shield.

“This bitch is on her own, the rest of them would've stormed in long ago otherwise.”

No-one spoke as he took a couple of steps in Lilith's direction who remained rooted to the spot, statue-like in her complete stillness: with bated breath, she monitored the ever diminishing distance remaining between them: just a few more paces and he'd be within striking range.

“Are you here to play the hero, sweeth...”

The man's oily speech was abruptly cut off when he found himself in Lilith's unyielding grip: like a cat descending upon its prey she surged, latching herself on him before he could raise his weapon; there was a groan followed by the sound of his spine cracking under the pressure of the young Sister's expert arms which now discarded the limp body to the floor where it joined his fallen comrade in a pool of blood. The three remaining men stiffened perceptibly, two of whom raised their guns and pointed them at Lilith, fingers on the triggers. Their leader however made a forbidding sign with his right arm, unsheathing his own weapon, a knife which shone beneath the humming barrier of his shield as it caught a stray beam of light.

“OK witch, that's enough” he growled at Lilith, who was pleased to notice his composure had been chipped around the edges. “Think you're tough picking on the rookie do you? Well let's do this just you and me. Cover me, boys."

Angry or not, he proved to be a difficult adversary who made excellent use both of his weapon and the protective environment of his shield. He advanced, tank-like, on the young woman, his powerful arms striking swiftly and relentlessly, using his bulk to ram her back into a doorway where her movement range would be limited. His strategy was simple enough: he knew she was technically the better fighter, and intended to overwhelm her with brute force instead: as long as she was forced to keep deflecting his swift, powerful blows, she'd have no chance of getting her own blade past his shield. As for Lilith, her full capabilities were focused on preserving her life, disadvantaged as she was by her adversary's shield which repelled her dagger time and time again. For the first time since leaving the Imperial Palace, fear threatened to make its way past Lilith's mental defences: she realized now she could very well die that night, if not by the hands of this man then by someone else's. This steeled her further, infusing her with a mad desire to make it as difficult for them as possible, starting with her current adversary. As Mother Tokugawa had once taught her, body size was an advantage which could be turned against the one who possessed it. Instead of wearing herself down trying to bypass the enormous man, Lilith reserved just enough energy in order to avoid being injured while she crouched down, using him as a shield from the weapons of his two remaining comrades. This also blocked them from view, and only her hearing sense informed Lilith that a secondary struggle was taking place beyond.

“Are they finally here?” was her first, wild thought, imagining that assistance from Wallach IX had finally reached its destination. As much as she hated to admit it, Lilith could've used the help. In the meantime, the fight was intensifying; the mercenary's knife sliced cleanly across her forehead, leaving behind a searing cut that bled into her eyes. Seized by a new-found urgency to end the fight once and for all, a sudden idea took shape in Lilith's mind. With her dagger she kept on fending off her tireless attacker while her left hand reached inside the folds of her robe, fingers clasping a metal tubule that lay secreted in one of the pockets. Fitting it over her index finger, Lilith flipped off the rounded tip, exposing a short and impossibly sharp needle. Concealing it in her fist, she slowly brought the arm forward, reaching gradually through the shimmering barrier of the man's shield where it moulded around his hip and jabbed it deeply into his flesh. With a loud groan, he stumbled backwards, losing balance as the fast-acting poison spread through his system, destroying his vital processes. Seconds later he was on his knees, convulsing. Panting heavily and drenched in sweat, Lilith approached and kicked him in the chest, so that she could look him straight in the eye.

“You see,” she sneered down at him as he gave his final breath. “The Gom Jabbar kills only animals.”

There was no time to gloat or even remove the deadly needle from the man's flesh, for Lilith could now plainly see that she was not the only one fighting. The last living member of the squad was engaged in a rapid exchange of knife blows with a red-robed figure at the sight of whom Lilith gaped in disbelief: there was no mistaking that shock of blond tresses flailing wildly about or the familiar features which belonged to the last person Lilith had expected to find there: Elisha! Preposterous as it seemed, she was there in the flesh, and she was...helping!

Momentarily stunned by her old friend's unexpected appearance, Lilith was nonetheless brought back to reality when a clattering sound reached her ears and she saw Elisha's blade skid across the floor, leaving her unarmed. There was no time to waste: giving a sharp whistle to attract Elisha's attention, Lilith tossed her own blade into the blonde's extended hand, who caught it cleanly by the handle and resumed her fight. Soon, the fourth mercenary lay dead at their feet, leaving two unlikely allies staring at each other across the hallway, dishevelled and panting heavily. Lilith was the first to move, going about the systematic task of retrieving both her Gom Jabbar and Elisha's fallen dagger, which she then held out towards her, handle first.

“Why are you here, Elisha?” Lilith demanded in a tone which nonetheless was more inquisitive than aggressive, betraying the mixed emotions churning deep inside her heart.