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		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/api.php?action=feedcontributions&amp;feedformat=atom&amp;user=Dr.+Xadium</id>
		<title>Torchwood Japan Library Archive - User contributions [en]</title>
		<link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/api.php?action=feedcontributions&amp;feedformat=atom&amp;user=Dr.+Xadium"/>
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		<updated>2026-06-08T00:16:05Z</updated>
		<subtitle>User contributions</subtitle>
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	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=One_Last_Dance&amp;diff=583</id>
		<title>One Last Dance</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=One_Last_Dance&amp;diff=583"/>
				<updated>2024-08-26T02:25:01Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  One Last Dance&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium &lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 08/25/24&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= August 25th, 2024&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Motoki makes a deal with the devil to save the ones he loves. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= Part of the 22nd Anniversary Series &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Furuhata Motoki was dying. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few hours before, he had been jumped by a gang of thugs while he was taking the trash out from the Crown Cafe. &amp;quot;It'll just be a a quick step outside&amp;quot; he had told Makoto and their infant daughter Mari. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But the gang had had other ideas. Coming out of nowhere, they had emerged from the shadows and beat him to within an inch of his life, stealing his wallet and phone, leaving him to bleed out by the dumpster in the alleyway beside the cafe. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fortunately, surveillance cameras at the HOTEL had caught the incident, and medical help was sent his way. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fading in and out of consciousness, Motoki had been rushed to Healing Haven hospital in Roppongi, but that facility, where The Great Healer-a man with the healing powers of Saturn who, it was said, could heal any injuries, no matter how severe- worked, was overwhelmed with patients. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So, in a desperate bid to save his life, Motoki was being sent through a portal that had been established alongside Healing Haven by the mysterious Sailor Enclave- a gateway that led to another realm where healing was promised- but one that no one really understood and no one at the HOTEL trusted. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As he approached the portal, Motoki could feel the walls of reality thinning around him, and for a moment, he felt his consciousness completely leave his body. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wh--&amp;quot; Motoki groaned, feeling the side of his head, which was slicked with blood. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He was so dizzy. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking around, Motoki saw that he was seated in front of a large mahogany desk which seemed to be located within a featureless white void. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Where... am I?&amp;quot; He asked. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;The &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;where&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; isn't important,&amp;quot; a woman said from her position across the desk. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Had she been there before?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; He couldn't be sure. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking into her blood-red eyes, Motoki blinked. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Meioh-san?&amp;quot; he asked, confused. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna Meioh nodded. &amp;quot;Furuhata Motoki-san. We need to talk.&amp;quot; She nodded towards a large glowing garnet orb, which sat between the two of them on the desk, nestled in an elaborate silver stand which looked like an inverted pewter crown. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki looked at the Orb, and felt himself being drawn into it- or at least his perceptions. He found himself standing in the same alleyway where he had been beaten - except the body on the ground wasn't his - instead it was Makoto's. And baby Mari's. The injuries looked unearthly, like they had been torn apart by some kind of demonic beast. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mako! Mari!&amp;quot; He cried out, reaching out for them. But his hands passed through them. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Pulling his gaze away from the scene, the red of the Garnet Orb switching with the red of Setsuna's eyes, Motoki glared at her angrily, demanding &amp;quot;What is this!?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna narrowed her eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;The future,&amp;quot; she replied coldly.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki's blood ran cold. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;The future?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; But that meant that his family--&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;unless we do something about it,&amp;quot; she continued after a beat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Then there was hope.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki looked at Setsuna. &amp;quot;What do we have to do? I'll do anything!&amp;quot; he exclaimed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Anything?&amp;quot; Setsuna asked dangerously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Anything!&amp;quot; Motoki repeated, deadly serious. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then you must leave them,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;You're not the one who can protect them from the horrors that are coming to our world.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What do you mean?&amp;quot; Motoki demanded, head spinning. &amp;quot;Leave them? What are you--&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Forever.&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;You have to end it with Makoto. You can be a friend, nothing more.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Why?!&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot; Motoki yelled. &amp;quot;If we know what's coming, why can't I help them!? Why can't you guys--&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna pointed back to the grisly scene in the Orb, which panned over to the right a bit to reveal a similarly savaged Motoki. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Because she'll die trying to protect you,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;And you die trying to protect Mari. If you stay together, you die together.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But there's got to be something--&amp;quot; Motoki protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There is,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied, waving her hand over the orb. &amp;quot;There's someone &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;else&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; who can defend them in a way you never can.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She pointed to a shadowy figure that Motoki slowly recognized. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Their light can protect her,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But how can I just... walk away?&amp;quot; Motoki cried. &amp;quot;They're my family!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If you love them, you'll have to. If you want them to live.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna pulled out a piece of parchment and slid it across the desk, along with an dry inkwell that had a needle inside. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Prick your finger and sign the contract,&amp;quot; Setsuna instructed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;...then what happens?&amp;quot; Motoki asked apprehensively. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna sighed. &amp;quot;What happens to roughly half the marriages on Earth,&amp;quot; she said sympathetically. &amp;quot;A gentle separation. You see the child every other weekend, and move on with your life. And they get to move on with theirs.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;And there's no other way?&amp;quot; Motoki asked, despondently. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of course there is,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;But this is the only &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;sure way&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She tapped the Garnet Orb slightly and the image zoomed in on the clenched, bloody hand of Makoto clutching the lifeless hand of baby Mari. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If you want to take a chance...&amp;quot; Setsuna began helpfully. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki took the needle, pricked his finger and signed the contract. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki and Makoto danced under the stars, he in a fancy tuxedo and her in the fancy, rose-patterned black dress that had always been her favorite. The soft notes of a piano filled the air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The dance floor was flooded with water, that they both somehow knew were their tears. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of hope and tears of parting. The stars were thus mirrored under their feet, and the couple seemed to be dancing slowly amongst the stars. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have to go...&amp;quot; Motoki whispered softly, sadly.  &amp;quot;I don't know when... or if I might ever make it back from that Enclave place.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I know,&amp;quot; Makoto replied, matching his tone, eyes brimming with tears. She clutched his back as they danced, but dared not draw him closer for fear she wouldn't be able to let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Take care of Mari for me.&amp;quot; Motoki said softly, gently releasing her. &amp;quot;And don't... be afraid to be happy.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I will, and I won't&amp;quot; Makoto replied weakly, as Motoki gently removed the wedding ring from her hand, and placing it on a chain, which he placed around her neck. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You... take care...&amp;quot; Makoto said, choking back a sob. &amp;quot;You... be happy too.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I will,&amp;quot; Motoki said, kneeling down to give baby Mari-who ironically, had just turned one-a hug, lifting her from her crib for a moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Da Da&amp;quot; Mari cooed with a smile, wrapping her little fingers around his. Looking into her blue eyes, he felt that no matter what, things would be all right somehow, no matter where they all ended up. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Gently pulling his finger away he set her back in her crib as she burbled happily. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As the music faded, Motoki took one long last look at Makoto and little Mari, glad they would both be safe, walking into the mist. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Elsewhere, Makoto woke up from her dream-that-she-new-wasn't-a-dream, tears trailing down her cheeks. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In the void, a figure stepped out from behind Setsuna, their eyes flashing red with the power of Chaos. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Enoshima Junko nodded, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Excellent work, Setsuna. Now the other half of the equation. Split the atom of Uranus and Neptune... and then, as promised, your powers will be returned to you a thousandfold.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Walking away, she grinned. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;And then the true era of despair will finally begin...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;###&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=One_Last_Dance&amp;diff=582</id>
		<title>One Last Dance</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=One_Last_Dance&amp;diff=582"/>
				<updated>2024-08-26T02:24:38Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;{{Storybox |title=  One Last Dance |author= Dr. Xadium  |creationdate= 08/25/24 |continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A |timeplacement= August 25th, 2024 |synopsis= Motoki makes a deal...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  One Last Dance&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium &lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 08/25/24&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= August 25th, 2024&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Motoki makes a deal witht he devil to save the ones he loves. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= Part of the 22nd Anniversary Series &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Furuhata Motoki was dying. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few hours before, he had been jumped by a gang of thugs while he was taking the trash out from the Crown Cafe. &amp;quot;It'll just be a a quick step outside&amp;quot; he had told Makoto and their infant daughter Mari. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
But the gang had had other ideas. Coming out of nowhere, they had emerged from the shadows and beat him to within an inch of his life, stealing his wallet and phone, leaving him to bleed out by the dumpster in the alleyway beside the cafe. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fortunately, surveillance cameras at the HOTEL had caught the incident, and medical help was sent his way. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Fading in and out of consciousness, Motoki had been rushed to Healing Haven hospital in Roppongi, but that facility, where The Great Healer-a man with the healing powers of Saturn who, it was said, could heal any injuries, no matter how severe- worked, was overwhelmed with patients. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So, in a desperate bid to save his life, Motoki was being sent through a portal that had been established alongside Healing Haven by the mysterious Sailor Enclave- a gateway that led to another realm where healing was promised- but one that no one really understood and no one at the HOTEL trusted. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As he approached the portal, Motoki could feel the walls of reality thinning around him, and for a moment, he felt his consciousness completely leave his body. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wh--&amp;quot; Motoki groaned, feeling the side of his head, which was slicked with blood. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He was so dizzy. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking around, Motoki saw that he was seated in front of a large mahogany desk which seemed to be located within a featureless white void. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Where... am I?&amp;quot; He asked. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;The &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;where&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; isn't important,&amp;quot; a woman said from her position across the desk. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Had she been there before?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; He couldn't be sure. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking into her blood-red eyes, Motoki blinked. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Meioh-san?&amp;quot; he asked, confused. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna Meioh nodded. &amp;quot;Furuhata Motoki-san. We need to talk.&amp;quot; She nodded towards a large glowing garnet orb, which sat between the two of them on the desk, nestled in an elaborate silver stand which looked like an inverted pewter crown. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki looked at the Orb, and felt himself being drawn into it- or at least his perceptions. He found himself standing in the same alleyway where he had been beaten - except the body on the ground wasn't his - instead it was Makoto's. And baby Mari's. The injuries looked unearthly, like they had been torn apart by some kind of demonic beast. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mako! Mari!&amp;quot; He cried out, reaching out for them. But his hands passed through them. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Pulling his gaze away from the scene, the red of the Garnet Orb switching with the red of Setsuna's eyes, Motoki glared at her angrily, demanding &amp;quot;What is this!?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna narrowed her eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;The future,&amp;quot; she replied coldly.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki's blood ran cold. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;The future?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; But that meant that his family--&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;unless we do something about it,&amp;quot; she continued after a beat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Then there was hope.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki looked at Setsuna. &amp;quot;What do we have to do? I'll do anything!&amp;quot; he exclaimed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Anything?&amp;quot; Setsuna asked dangerously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Anything!&amp;quot; Motoki repeated, deadly serious. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then you must leave them,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;You're not the one who can protect them from the horrors that are coming to our world.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What do you mean?&amp;quot; Motoki demanded, head spinning. &amp;quot;Leave them? What are you--&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Forever.&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;You have to end it with Makoto. You can be a friend, nothing more.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Why?!&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot; Motoki yelled. &amp;quot;If we know what's coming, why can't I help them!? Why can't you guys--&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna pointed back to the grisly scene in the Orb, which panned over to the right a bit to reveal a similarly savaged Motoki. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Because she'll die trying to protect you,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;And you die trying to protect Mari. If you stay together, you die together.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But there's got to be something--&amp;quot; Motoki protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There is,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied, waving her hand over the orb. &amp;quot;There's someone &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;else&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; who can defend them in a way you never can.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She pointed to a shadowy figure that Motoki slowly recognized. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Their light can protect her,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But how can I just... walk away?&amp;quot; Motoki cried. &amp;quot;They're my family!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If you love them, you'll have to. If you want them to live.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna pulled out a piece of parchment and slid it across the desk, along with an dry inkwell that had a needle inside. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Prick your finger and sign the contract,&amp;quot; Setsuna instructed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;...then what happens?&amp;quot; Motoki asked apprehensively. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Setsuna sighed. &amp;quot;What happens to roughly half the marriages on Earth,&amp;quot; she said sympathetically. &amp;quot;A gentle separation. You see the child every other weekend, and move on with your life. And they get to move on with theirs.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;And there's no other way?&amp;quot; Motoki asked, despondently. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of course there is,&amp;quot; Setsuna replied. &amp;quot;But this is the only &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;sure way&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She tapped the Garnet Orb slightly and the image zoomed in on the clenched, bloody hand of Makoto clutching the lifeless hand of baby Mari. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If you want to take a chance...&amp;quot; Setsuna began helpfully. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki took the needle, pricked his finger and signed the contract. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Motoki and Makoto danced under the stars, he in a fancy tuxedo and her in the fancy, rose-patterned black dress that had always been her favorite. The soft notes of a piano filled the air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The dance floor was flooded with water, that they both somehow knew were their tears. Tears of joy, tears of sadness, tears of hope and tears of parting. The stars were thus mirrored under their feet, and the couple seemed to be dancing slowly amongst the stars. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have to go...&amp;quot; Motoki whispered softly, sadly.  &amp;quot;I don't know when... or if I might ever make it back from that Enclave place.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I know,&amp;quot; Makoto replied, matching his tone, eyes brimming with tears. She clutched his back as they danced, but dared not draw him closer for fear she wouldn't be able to let go.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Take care of Mari for me.&amp;quot; Motoki said softly, gently releasing her. &amp;quot;And don't... be afraid to be happy.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I will, and I won't&amp;quot; Makoto replied weakly, as Motoki gently removed the wedding ring from her hand, and placing it on a chain, which he placed around her neck. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You... take care...&amp;quot; Makoto said, choking back a sob. &amp;quot;You... be happy too.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I will,&amp;quot; Motoki said, kneeling down to give baby Mari-who ironically, had just turned one-a hug, lifting her from her crib for a moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Da Da&amp;quot; Mari cooed with a smile, wrapping her little fingers around his. Looking into her blue eyes, he felt that no matter what, things would be all right somehow, no matter where they all ended up. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Gently pulling his finger away he set her back in her crib as she burbled happily. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As the music faded, Motoki took one long last look at Makoto and little Mari, glad they would both be safe, walking into the mist. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Elsewhere, Makoto woke up from her dream-that-she-new-wasn't-a-dream, tears trailing down her cheeks. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;* * *&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In the void, a figure stepped out from behind Setsuna, their eyes flashing red with the power of Chaos. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Enoshima Junko nodded, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Excellent work, Setsuna. Now the other half of the equation. Split the atom of Uranus and Neptune... and then, as promised, your powers will be returned to you a thousandfold.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Walking away, she grinned. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;And then the true era of despair will finally begin...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=A_Cosmic_Miscalculation&amp;diff=581</id>
		<title>A Cosmic Miscalculation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=A_Cosmic_Miscalculation&amp;diff=581"/>
				<updated>2024-08-26T02:22:18Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;{{Storybox |title=  A Cosmic Miscalculation |author= Dr. Xadium  |creationdate= 08/25/24 |continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A |timeplacement= August 25th, 2024 |synopsis= CiCi makes...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  A Cosmic Miscalculation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium &lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 08/25/24&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= August 25th, 2024&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= CiCi makes a horrible mistake. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= Part of the 22nd Anniversary Series &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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CiCi, the former Battle Mistress of the Galaxy (&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;nee&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Chibi Chibi), sat on a stone park bench, growling, puffing on a cigar and mentally cursing up a storm. She felt the thick stitches at the base of her neck where Doctor Hogback had reattached her severed head to her body in the future year 200,100. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had taken forever for her to rebuild even a fraction of a Chaotic Dark Energy, and now she had travelled back in time to the year 2024 to finally exact her revenge on those wretched Sailor Senshi and their friends who had ruined &amp;lt;A HREF=https://suburbansenshi.com/thecollections/2009-whatever_happened.pdf target=new&amp;gt;her plans for world domination&amp;lt;/A&amp;gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;This time&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she fumed. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;This time it would be different.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; She glanced at her tiny baby-forearm  which was clad with a golden, jewel-encrusted bracer - the last known Starseed / Sailor Crystal extractor in the galaxy. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
With this, she would once again capture and manipulate those damnable Sailor Senshi. And then, vengeance would be hers. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She just needed to find one. Just one. She would capture, and turn them, and use that slave to ambush the others. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She contemptuously cast her gaze out across the park, then across the street beyond, looking at the throng of meaningless people living their meaningless little lives. Soon they would be screaming her name in terror and praise. And it would be music to her chibi little ears. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Imagining how she would debase each and every one of them, CiCi suddenly caught a glimpse of someone in the crowd. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mother[BLEEP]er,&amp;quot; she swore, her cigar bobbing in her mouth. &amp;quot;That c[BLEEP]t.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She spied the flaxen hair lightly bound by a blood-red bow; The smiling crystal-blue eyes and the shapely form &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;that b[BLEEP]tch&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Sailor Venus in Civilian form as Swine-o Mi-cock-no or whatever-the-hell-her-name-was, just window shopping and having fun without a care in the f[BLEEP]ing world. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Oh, this was too perfect&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, CiCi thought to herself as she hopped off the bench and waddled through the throngs of people between herself and her target, no one noticing the diminutive midget as she moved. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;B[BLEEP]tch won't even see it coming.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
These Sailor Senshi were so &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;weak&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, CiCi realized. Years of peace and retirement, along with leaning on their friends and their next-generation futurespawn to fight their battles for them had left them shells of their former, heroic selves. It wasn't even going to be a struggle to nab this bimbo's Sailor Crystal. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako giggled to herself as she eyed a racy dress in the shop window, imagining herself wearing it, the reflection of her face positioned over the shop mannequins. She would definitely turn some heads in--&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, she caught sight of a tiny midget-like figure leaping up behind her, crossing arms and shooting out a blast of light. There was no time to react. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The crowd of daytime shoppers burst into a panic and ran as the blonde girl in the red hairbow screamed out once, her body turning into sand and crumbling, a golden crystal floating in the air where she had once stood. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;F[BLEEP]cking easy,&amp;quot; CiCi said to herself proudly, leaping up, grabbing the Sailor Crystal out of the air and--&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
--the Crystal stayed exactly where it was and did not move, no matter how hard CiCi tugged or pulled at it. She couldn't budge it, and was now holding onto it by one arm, hanging in midair, seemingly floating off the ground. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What the s[BLEEP]t?&amp;quot; She exclaimed, as suddenly the hand holding the Sailor Crystal jerked backwards and smashed her in the forehead, leaving a bloody cut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;WHAT THE F[BLEEP]K?!&amp;quot; CiCi screeched, letting go of the Crystal, which was burning hot with golden energy. Ci Ci could swear the ominous sound &amp;quot;Go Go Go Go&amp;quot; was coming from it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The crystal SLAMMED forward again without warming, breaking CiCi's nose and causing her to spit out her cigar. The, like an expert boxer's fist, it retracted and surged forward again and again, pummeling her so hard CiCi was literally being air juggled, spitting blood all the while and swearing in confusion. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What the everloving F[BLEEP]K is GOING ON?!&amp;quot; CiCi screamed. &amp;quot;You're a GODDAMN SAILOR CRYSTAL! YOU CAN'T &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;FIGHT BACK!!&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You're right!&amp;quot; the crystal chirped in Minako's voice. &amp;quot;Because this isn't a fight!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The voice from the crystal lowered an octave. &amp;quot;It's going to be a &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;massacre&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
CiCi froze as she felt the sheer waves of murderous intent and the frankly ridiculous levels of Planet Power coming off the crystal. With a shock, she realized that over the last quarter century since they had run into Galaxia, even though the Senshi had seemed to be taking it easy and having fun, they had never stopped training, or growing stronger. They hadn't been resting on their laurels at all! They weren't mere servants to some overlord Monarch who held all the power! THEY &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;WERE&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; THE POWER. No... worse... they had become &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;MONSTERS&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;MONSTERS OF JUSTICE!&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
CiCi emitted a monkey-like shriek and turned to flee, but the Crystal teleported in front of her and behind her in rapid succession, screaming &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;ORA ORA ORA ORA!&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; and  swooping in to savagely strike her again and again, breaking bones, bursting blood vessels and generally perforating her to within an inch of her life. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;THEN&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; golden light particles seemed to flow into it and it made a peculiar chirping sound like... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
...like it was charging up a &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;beam&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;ALL RIGHT!&amp;quot; CiCi screamed, dropping to the ground on her knees. &amp;quot;I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!&amp;quot; She bowed. &amp;quot;YOU CAN HAVE YOUR BODY BACK!&amp;quot; She twisted her forearm and the sandy pile of Minako's remains swirled into the air, coalescing around the crystal and solidifying into her youthful frame once more. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Glowering, Minako kept two fingers pointed at CiCi, a &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Crescent beam&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; charging up. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;They don't even need to transform at this point&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. CiCi realized. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;S[BLEEP]t.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Don't &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;ever&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; show your face in front of me or my friends again,&amp;quot; Minako growled. She then grinned and tossed her hair, casually remarking, &amp;quot;I'm not even the strongest one~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She winked.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
CiCi paled and fled down the street, gibbering and crying, as Minako let the Crescent Beam energy fade away and she went back to joyfully window shopping. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
And all was right with the world. &lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Category:Dr._Xadium&amp;diff=579</id>
		<title>Category:Dr. Xadium</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Category:Dr._Xadium&amp;diff=579"/>
				<updated>2023-12-02T01:08:08Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;Carthago delenda est.&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;Carthago delenda est.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=578</id>
		<title>Manoeuvers</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=578"/>
				<updated>2023-12-02T00:50:35Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  Manoeuvers, Part I&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 10/12/2005&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-B&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= The Plutonian Epoch&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Sakura X. Aino are set on a collision course by the Celestial Intervention Agency. An unfinished work. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= This is part one of an unfinished story I discovered on December 1st, 2023. I might finish it someday. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=title&amp;gt;Manoeuvres&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;the road to hell is paved with good intentions&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; October 12th, 2005 &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;pride&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;and&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;prejudice&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 &amp;gt;Planet Gallifrey, CIA Headquarters, The Capitol&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Deep in the darkened chambers that served as the central information nexus of the Agency, two Time Lords, clad in black robes, surrounded by brightly glowing tri-dimensional representations of thousands of space sectors across billions of years,  conferred as the universe seemed to shimmer and shift around them.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Must we use Blyledge?&amp;quot; The voice of the first Time Lord was old, tired, frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I don't like it any more than you do, Co-ordinator, but it *is* her terrain, and considering the circumstances--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But she's a half-breed, decadent... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;outsider&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; the first Time Lord retorted, hissing the last word like an epithet.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She *is* a Time Lord,&amp;quot; the second replied a bit harshly. &amp;quot;Anatomically. Academically. She passed her Academy exams with a Double Alpha minus designation, and has eight doctorates to her name. Not to mention that she is the legitimate heir to the House Blyledge--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Adopted.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And her political ties are &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;all&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; that have kept her welcome on this world. She's taken  that once noble house into a state of shameful ruin! The grounds of house Blyledge are filled with drunken  Shobogan hooligans from Low Town!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 The Co-ordinator's assistant sighed. &amp;quot;She does have an annoying egalitarian streak, yes. But you cannot dispute her results.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;No, no I suppose you cannot,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator conceded. &amp;quot;Send for her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 As his assistant did so, the Co-ordinator chuckled. His objections had been merely for show, of course. He had made certain Sakuraxadiumainoshinguujiblyledge would be drawn for this assignment. It was far beyond her skills of course-- and when she failed more competent forces would be deployed to clean up what would be her very public mess-- but even if by some miracle she should succeed, she would humilate that other member of her family who had brought so much shame to Gallifrey. Either way, this mission would give him something he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;House Blyledge, Overlooking the Capitol City&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Raise it another five point six three-five degrees!&amp;quot; Sakura yelled, her voice carrying high to the shobogan youths clustered on the roof of her palatial, gothic-styled mansion. She could barely make out their outlines in the silvery burnt orange twighlight night.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Right!&amp;quot; yelled one of the lads working the cannon-like device mounted there. &amp;quot;Done!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;FIRE!&amp;quot; Sakura ordered. With a THOOM, a large volley of ale kegs, fireworks and toilet paper lauched high into the air, streaking out over the Capitol at hypersonic speed, blossoming into a huge fireball cloud of detrius.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Five hundred meters!&amp;quot; one of the girls keeping track exclaimed. &amp;quot;A new record!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;w00t!&amp;quot; Sakura exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, woot,&amp;quot; a Capitol guard, who had been watching the whole spectacle dimly, intoned dryly, as Sakura sweatdropped.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Come to celebrate the christening of the brilliantly blazing baryonic boomcannon, buddy?&amp;quot; Sakura asked mirthfully, as the guard narrowed his eyes and squinted, at her stone-faced. His cardinal-red and gold uniform&lt;br /&gt;
marked him as an elite guard. When he spoke, it was with a forced deference social structure demanded he&lt;br /&gt;
display to the &amp;quot;nobility&amp;quot;, no matter how outre their manner of dress, heredity or habits.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No... milady,&amp;quot; he forced out. &amp;quot;I am here to escort you to the capitol, on urgent business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Whaaaaaaat??&amp;quot; Sakura asked with a pleading, whining voice as the young people with her let out a collective noise of dissappointment. &amp;quot;But it's barely nightfall! The party's just getting staaarted~!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;These... are important matters of state...&amp;quot; the guard muttered,   trying not to look too closely at Sakura's strange attire, her quasi-victorian white shirt, beige pants and tie, brown leather vest and orange hairbow. It was such... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;retrograde&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; attire for a Time Lord!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Man, the state makes minor molehills matters of magnificent meaning,&amp;quot; Sakura continued to whine, turning back to the revelers. &amp;quot;One of the Cardinals probably got a hangnail or something. I'll go in the mornin'.&amp;quot; She turned back to the others, pausing only when the slight pressure of a gloved hand on her arm stopped her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Swinging around, she narrowed her eyes and snapped archly, &amp;quot;Are you *touching me*, guard?&amp;quot; Her tone was so formal, so haughty and angry that even her friends quieted. This was what nobles were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;supposed&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to sound like.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The guard instinctively pulled his hand back as if it had been burnt, and he bowed. &amp;quot;Sorry, milady.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made a show of jerking her arm away. &amp;quot;Yes, well, it will be overlooked, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;this&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; time.&amp;quot; She turned to her friends, her face breaking back into a wide grin, &amp;quot;now if you will excuse meees, my friends and I are gonna PAAAAAAAARTY~~~~!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm afraid you can't, milady,&amp;quot; the guard almost pleaded. Something about his tone struck Sakura, and she turned back to face him, looking at him, head tilted in curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a great liberty, the guard leaned forward and whispered in her ear. Sakura visibly paled, and she bade her friends goodnight, giving them the run of her house. She tursted them to leave it intact, and in truth they would. The Shobogans of Low town would die for &amp;quot;their noble,&amp;quot; not that she would ever allow such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As Sakura and the guard hurried by air car to the Capitol, his words to her echoed in her mind over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's CIA Business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;The Capitol Building, Upper Level 34,410&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura stepped out of the aircar landing bay and into one of the typical, sterile,  well-lit gleaming white hallways that marked the upper levels of the Capitol. They were cold and antiseptic, so far removed from the dark, gloomy depths of the older lower levels where the true power resided. It was an architectural metaphor for the whole of her planet's society and mindset, she mused, making her way to a lift. Dark and grim on the inside, bright and shiny on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;CIA Business&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. What could the Celestial Intervention Agency want now? What new mess had they gotten themselves into? She had joined their ranks because the idea of intervention-- of actively stepping in to make things right-- had naturally called to her, as opposed to the stolid, stodgy, static, set-apart ways and means of most of the other Time Lords. After all, as a great Terran philosopher had said, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. But the organization was steeped in blood and shadow, and she had come to learn that it was far from a perfect solution to the universe's problems. Still. it was better than sitting back and letting the cosmos burn around one.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So engrossed with her musings was Sakura that she barely noticed when she bumped into someone going the other way in the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorries...&amp;quot; she began idly, not really paying attention to the man she had bumped into.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My fault,&amp;quot; the man replied, equally distracted.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, both passers-by stopped, the sound of each other's voices triggering long-buried memories. Memories they had each sought to suppress, for various reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV class=flashback&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Years Earlier&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Well if it isn't the half-breed bitch,&amp;quot; a male voice said from behind Sakura. &amp;quot;And stealing information to boot. That's an expulsion-worthy offense.&amp;quot; The Young man sneered at her. He smiled crookedly. &amp;quot;But I might be willing to overlook it, if you give me some of what you've been givin' old Blyledge.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Aren't your tastes running a little low, if you want to do it with a half-breed?&amp;quot; Sakura asked dangerously, getting up and putting some distance between herself and the leering fellow.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Shut up, bitch!&amp;quot; The boy advanced, wielding a low-grade staser pistol. Sakura heard the sounds of two, possibly three more men coming up behind her from down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All right,&amp;quot; she said as seductively as she could, sidling up to him, and running her fingers across his chest. &amp;quot;I'll show you what the daughter of the house of Venus can do to a man...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The boy smiled and drew her close, his eyes crossing as she kneed him violently and simultaneously grabbed his staser. With a smashing chop to the neck, she dropped him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Aiming the staser at the others, she tried to fire, but it did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A FRELLING TOY?!&amp;quot; She yelled, catching herself. The others came running with pipes and chains.&lt;br /&gt;
hose definitely weren't toys. She ran as fast as she could, away from the, and towards the TARDIS cradles. She still had the key to Blyledge's TARDIS, if she could get to it, she could hole up in there until they left.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You had me running for my life, so many years ago,&amp;quot; Sakura said through gritted teeth, looking straight ahead, away from the man who had tried to rape her so long ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I was... a young fool,&amp;quot; the man replied, a hint of shame in his voice, unable to look up at Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was you...&amp;quot; Sakura continued, looking down at her black and white 50's style golf shoes. &amp;quot;You put Atrex up to pushing me out that window.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Everything...&amp;quot; the man continued, balling up his fists, tears forming in his eyes. &amp;quot;Everything came so easily for you. You waltz in here from offworld, and get adopted by the one man who was literally all of Old Gallifrey&lt;br /&gt;
wrapped up in one. You get instant access to the elite academy, you even get to work on a TARDIS. And I...&lt;br /&gt;
me and the others... we worked our fratzing LIVES to get in through the door...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
His voiced choked and he slammed his fist on the wall. Sakura, for her part, narrowed her eyes, widened her mind, trying to understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You hated me... because you thought I was receiving some kind of fratzing ENTITLEMENT?!&amp;quot; she spat out with disbelief. &amp;quot;I thought my parents were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;dead.&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;  That I had nothing left to live for. I was prepared to DIE. Lord B. took me in and gave me a purpose in life. That's all. I was happy to be here, to be &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;home&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with my people, that's all I wanted!&amp;quot; Tears formed in her eyes as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;'Lord B.',&amp;quot; the man replied quietly, darkly. &amp;quot;Even now, you make light of everything he stood for, everything he was. You do not even do him the honor of using his full name. You make me ill--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Faster than the man could blink, Sakura had spun and pinned him against the wall, her forearm hard against his throat.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lord Blyledge was a FATHER to me when I had no others!&amp;quot; Sakura snapped angrily, her voice hard and cold, a slow rage building. She tapped her forehead. &amp;quot;This symbiotic nuclei in me *is* his! He sacrificed his VERY LIFE to make me the person I am today!&amp;quot; She narrowed her eyes and stared daggers into the man without really looking at him. Heh. She still knew him only as &amp;quot;the man&amp;quot;. With her connections, she could have found out his identity and those of the others who had assaulted her so long ago. But she never had. For some reason she had never wanted to. She had told herself she had just wanted to put it in the past. But part of her knew what she really wanted was to not have to face them again, to face what she, in her black rage, might do to them in retaliation.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Even now,&amp;quot; she hissed, &amp;quot;you're still the same insecure little boy who came at me with a toy staser.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm-- I'm not,&amp;quot; he croaked, trying to breathe. &amp;quot;I have changed, if you can believe that. I... I am sorry, for what I did to you, even if I despise your manner, your affectations, your terran habits.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura leaned in closer, bringing her lips to his ears, but not letting up the pressure on his neck. &amp;quot;Are you truly sorry for what you did to me, the 'half-breed bitch', or are you sorry that you got to see that side of yourself that you try to hard to hide under that smug, sanctimonious, supercillious veneer? That I lowered you to the level of a FIELD ROVIE in rutting season?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I didn't care about pleasure,&amp;quot; the man replied, smirking despite himself. &amp;quot;Pleasure with an offworlder? Disgusting. I simply wanted to shame you, humilate you, show you what a lowly creature  you were-&amp;quot; he checked himself, realizing what he had just said. He looked Sakura in the eye, a mix of regret and fear in his eyes-- but not fear for his safety so much as for what his words meant about himself.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;And how do you feel about me now?&amp;quot; Sakura asked, voice hard as ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The man looked her in the eyes. &amp;quot;You... are not a creature. You are-- are Gallifreyan,&amp;quot; he began.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I am a *Time Lord*&amp;quot;, she said darkly. &amp;quot;Just. Like. You.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Not just like me!&amp;quot; he snapped reflexively, then checked himself again. &amp;quot;Different. Odd. Unalike. Strange.&amp;quot; As he said the words, he furrowed his brow, looking at Sakura-- really &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;looking&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; at her for the first time, it seemed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, he sighed. &amp;quot;I don't know what to make of you, honestly.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura was taken aback by the candor and let him go, stepping back and lowering her arm. She was awash with confusion. She had imagined many things upon confronting this man, the man who had ruined her life and sent her fleeing from her home in tears and grief, thinking herself outcast. She had imagined slowly breaking his fingers one after the other, causing him pain after pain until he had passed out, then scaring the life out of him., lording her hardened resolve and continued life--despite his attempts-- over him. But now... now she was confused. Sympathy for the Devil? For someone who had tried to have her &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;gang-raped&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;? She was not above meteing out capital punishment for wretches such as those. But they had failed in the attempt and run off like cowards, even as she had fled. She didn't know what to do. So she did nothing. She turned her back on him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Blyledge,&amp;quot; the man began plaintively, using the contracted form of her name she usually used on Gallifrey. His voice spoke of apologies to be made, or more excuses given. But Sakura did not wait around to hear. His words meant nothing to her. He was  either sincere or he was not. He would either learn or he would not. rei.bot had taught her that stoicism. She was no longer the fresh-faced naiive young woman from a century ago. If he or his friends tried again, they would not live to tell the tale. His fate was completely in his hands. And as she walked off, the loud authoritative &amp;quot;click-clack&amp;quot; of adamantine soles against permatanium floor left the anonymous man from what seemed like a lifetime ago with exactly that parting message.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few minutes later, Sakura made her way down to the CIA headquarters, which was nestled deep in a time-proof bubble within the very heart of the capitol. The universe could burn around it, and as long as the power held, the CIA could continue on, insulated, protected, preparing to strike back.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Time Lady shivered slightly as time itself seemed to come to a standstill for a moment as she crossed the perimeter of the bubble, entering the disparate micro-continuum that was the central office. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she began instinctively scanning all the holographic readouts, taking in the intelligence reports and digesting the relevant bits of information.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ahh, Blyledge,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said slowly, standing with his back to her. He waved his hand in a braod gesture, causing the large map of the galaxy in front of him to shimmer, zooming in rapidly and refocusing on a tiny blue world in one of the lower spiral arms.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura immediately recognized it as Earth, of course. The pollution content of the atmosphere, coupled&lt;br /&gt;
with the handy time-reference label underneath the shimmering image, told her it was the Earth of&lt;br /&gt;
the 3000's... the period she &amp;quot;lived&amp;quot; in in &amp;quot;realtime&amp;quot;, whatever that meant.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Assignment for you,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator muttered, pulling a datapadd from within his robes and extending his arm sideways, still not turning to face Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura walked forward slowly and took the Padd, reading it, her eyes narrowing as she took in the salient details of the assignment. She bit her lip slightly, but said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
After a few moments of leaden silence, the Co-ordinator spoke again, still not looking at her. &amp;quot;Problem, Blyledge?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura resisted the urge to chuckle or say something flip. The fact that on Gallifrey everyone only called her &amp;quot;Blyledge&amp;quot; was not lost on her. They respected the one part of her name that was not really hers, the honourable name of the prestigious family she had been adopted into. The rest of her name, Sakuraxadiumainoshinguuji, the identifiers that marked her as being of human / venusian / hybrid descent, they denied by omission-- implicitly denying the rest of her that was not purely of Gallifrey.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No, I've read the information,&amp;quot; she responded politely, with the cold, somewhat neutral tone she used&lt;br /&gt;
amongst the other Time Lords.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps you shouldn't skim over it,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said, turning to look Sakura in the eye, traces of a&lt;br /&gt;
smile playing at the corners of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura raised her eyebrows slightly, taking on a slightly aloof demeanour as she matched the Co-ordinator's gaze levelly. She knew full well the Co-ordinator was relishing the task he had set her, putting her against her own father, who had been given the exact &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;opposite&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; assignment by the High Council just two days before. She knew he was expecting her to feel distress, conflict, worry-- perhaps even to decline the assignment. She knew he wanted to find weakness in her, to expose it, to use it against her. But what he didn't know, she thought darkly, was that she thought the CIA was right in this matter,&lt;br /&gt;
and that it didn't matter who fate put in her path.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, I've read it quite closely, and find everything to be quite satisfactory,&amp;quot; she replied in an almost bored tone, doing her best not to show signs of mirth as the Co-ordinator's smile died. &amp;quot;I anticipate full mission success within two milli-spans.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Co-ordinator nodded curtly, carefully hiding any signs of dissappointment, and dismissed her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made her way back to her TARDIS. Privately, she wondered what her mother would make of all this.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Throne Room, Magellan Castle, In orbit of Venus&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako, in full regalia as the Princess Venus,  tilted her head to the side slowly, perching her chin on her palm as she gazed at her husband, who was standing before her, dressed formally, arms clasped behind his back. Standing as he was, at the foot of her golden throne, she noted, he looked less like her consort, and more like a distant acquaintance.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, that was how he had approached her, not as the man who loved her, but as an official emissary from the planet Gallifrey, on a diplomatic mission, come making a formal request.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It was nothing they had not discussed the night before, over dinner-- just the two of them, quietly, under the stars on Ishtar Terra. The Time Lords, as usual, had called him away for &amp;quot;work.&amp;quot; Usually this work was boring stuff about people and places and things Minako knew she would never see-- but that night, when he had come back, looking pale in the face, she knew somehow, that his &amp;quot;work&amp;quot; had finally hit home.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Night Before &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What the hell are you saying?!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed, nearly spitting out her food. In the distance, rei.bot did her best to avoid looking shocked.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm saying that tomorrow I'm going to come before you in Royal Court and formally ask you to cast your vote against Chibi--- Queen Serenity III in the referenda, as part of a strategic defensive alliance with Gallifrey.&amp;quot; Xadium said the sentence quietly, calmly, looking his wife straight in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Chibiusa-chan is our friend!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed harshly. &amp;quot;X-chan, how can you ask me to do something&lt;br /&gt;
like that to her?!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not asking you to do it as some kind of favour,&amp;quot; Xadium replied quietly. &amp;quot;Do you honestly think *Chibiusa* is really ready to take command of the *Empire*?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I trust her more than I do Setsuna-san's cousin Xon!&amp;quot; Minako replied, almost banging her fist on the dinner table, but stopping lest she knock over the wine glasses. &amp;quot;I've never even *heard* of him until this whole 'referee' thing got started! He's like some roach who crawled out of the roach motel in the closet!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium ignored the mangled metaphor. Pedantically, he began,  &amp;quot;the '&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;referenda&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;' will decide who controls the Imperial Seat. Earth and Pluto are barred from the voting, as you know, since Pluto brought the motion to unseat Chibiusa, and Chibiusa is from Earth. That leaves the other eight worlds. Mars, Jupiter and Venus have the most weight with two votes apiece to the other's one. Venus' vote will most likely swing Jupiter's and Quinox's. Referendum, which would remove Chibiusa,  can only be achieved with 7 votes.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;know&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said exasperatedly. &amp;quot;Stop treating me like a child.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I know you know,&amp;quot; Xadium replied tiredly, exhaling and looking past Minako to the greyish moutains behind her on the horizon, the black pall of night dimming their natural orangish colour. &amp;quot;As the reigning monarch of Venus you get to cast the planetary vote.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not voting against her, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly. &amp;quot;I don't care what the Time Lords think or what&lt;br /&gt;
stuff they want to give Venus. We've got enough gold-pressed latinum in our treasuries to buy us whatever we need.&amp;quot; She took his hand softly. &amp;quot;We don't need them. And Damascus Xon isn't going to be a good leader, I can feel it. Just because he's related to Setsuna-san in some way doesn't make him a better leader...&amp;quot;  She looked her husband in the eye. &amp;quot;He wants power. Just... power. He doesn't care about people.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Uranus, Neptune and Saturn don't agree,&amp;quot; Xadium pointed out, taking a small sip of the wine on the table.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako shook her head. &amp;quot;The outers always vote as a block... but I'm going to travel to Saturn to ask Hotaru-chan not to do it. This is too important.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mina...&amp;quot; Xadium began slowly, putting down the wine glass and looking her in the eye sincerely, &amp;quot;Chibiusa spent 50 years under the mind control of Ami, who was Eudial's puppet. She wields the Ginzuishou, which translates her will directly into power. You saw the records of what happened&lt;br /&gt;
at her coronation. What if, with all the resources of the Empire at her command, she decides to turn on the people?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She won't,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly, shaking her head even as Xadium opened his mouth to retort. &amp;quot;She won't-- but even if she did, the other planets would fight back. We wouldn't fall to her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Why don't you ask Rei, Ami and Makoto how they liked being Serenity II's Animamate senshi for all those years,&amp;quot; Xadium countered, somewhat forcefully. He took Minako's hand. &amp;quot;If Chibiusa ever did something like that to you--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako pressed a finger to her husband's lips. &amp;quot;Da~me,&amp;quot; she began slowly. &amp;quot;You're barking at the wrong flea.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium made a noise of protest, but Minako shook her head, took away her hand and stood. &amp;quot;Gomen, X-chan. I understand--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Current Moment&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I understand your concern, Xadium of Gallifrey,&amp;quot; Princess Venus said regally, getting to her feet as her court looked on, not unaware of the tension between the two, &amp;quot;but Venus intends to vote for the continued reign of Queen Serenity the Third. This has been our position, and will continue to be so. You may relay that message back to your government.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Bowing very slightly, Venus turned and entered her chambers, signifying that the audience was over.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium waited a respectful amount of time before turning and heading out of the royal court, making&lt;br /&gt;
his way to his TARDIS. He hadn't expected Minako to actually see sense. Loyalty was important, and Chibiusa's friendship equally so, but he didn't &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;trust&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Chibiusa the way the senshi did. He was practical enough to actually consider the possbility her mind was still fragile and vulnerable to corruption.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In his mind, the only solution was to get her off the throne, or at least minimize the damage she could do whilst occupying it. And that meant nullifying the source of her power-- once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium took a long look at the gilded corridors of Magellan Castle. He wondered, if, when all was said and done, he would be allowed here ever again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Stepping into his TARDIS, Xadium closed the doors, took a long look at a small scroll that was resting on a small desk to the side of the console room,  and set course for the far edge of the Solar System.&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Plutonian Epoch]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=577</id>
		<title>Manoeuvers</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=577"/>
				<updated>2023-12-02T00:50:06Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  Manoeuvers, Part I&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 10/12/2005&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-B&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= The Plutonian Epoch&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Sakura X. Aino are set on a collision course by the Celestial Intervention Agency. An unfinished work. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= This is part one of an unfinished story I discovered on December 1st, 2023. I might finish it someday. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=title&amp;gt;Manoeuvres&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;the road to hell is paved with good intentions&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; October 12th, 2005 &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 &amp;gt;Planet Gallifrey, CIA Headquarters, The Capitol&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Deep in the darkened chambers that served as the central information nexus of the Agency, two Time Lords, clad in black robes, surrounded by brightly glowing tri-dimensional representations of thousands of space sectors across billions of years,  conferred as the universe seemed to shimmer and shift around them.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Must we use Blyledge?&amp;quot; The voice of the first Time Lord was old, tired, frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I don't like it any more than you do, Co-ordinator, but it *is* her terrain, and considering the circumstances--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But she's a half-breed, decadent... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;outsider&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; the first Time Lord retorted, hissing the last word like an epithet.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She *is* a Time Lord,&amp;quot; the second replied a bit harshly. &amp;quot;Anatomically. Academically. She passed her Academy exams with a Double Alpha minus designation, and has eight doctorates to her name. Not to mention that she is the legitimate heir to the House Blyledge--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Adopted.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And her political ties are &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;all&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; that have kept her welcome on this world. She's taken  that once noble house into a state of shameful ruin! The grounds of house Blyledge are filled with drunken  Shobogan hooligans from Low Town!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 The Co-ordinator's assistant sighed. &amp;quot;She does have an annoying egalitarian streak, yes. But you cannot dispute her results.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;No, no I suppose you cannot,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator conceded. &amp;quot;Send for her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 As his assistant did so, the Co-ordinator chuckled. His objections had been merely for show, of course. He had made certain Sakuraxadiumainoshinguujiblyledge would be drawn for this assignment. It was far beyond her skills of course-- and when she failed more competent forces would be deployed to clean up what would be her very public mess-- but even if by some miracle she should succeed, she would humilate that other member of her family who had brought so much shame to Gallifrey. Either way, this mission would give him something he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;House Blyledge, Overlooking the Capitol City&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Raise it another five point six three-five degrees!&amp;quot; Sakura yelled, her voice carrying high to the shobogan youths clustered on the roof of her palatial, gothic-styled mansion. She could barely make out their outlines in the silvery burnt orange twighlight night.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Right!&amp;quot; yelled one of the lads working the cannon-like device mounted there. &amp;quot;Done!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;FIRE!&amp;quot; Sakura ordered. With a THOOM, a large volley of ale kegs, fireworks and toilet paper lauched high into the air, streaking out over the Capitol at hypersonic speed, blossoming into a huge fireball cloud of detrius.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Five hundred meters!&amp;quot; one of the girls keeping track exclaimed. &amp;quot;A new record!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;w00t!&amp;quot; Sakura exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, woot,&amp;quot; a Capitol guard, who had been watching the whole spectacle dimly, intoned dryly, as Sakura sweatdropped.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Come to celebrate the christening of the brilliantly blazing baryonic boomcannon, buddy?&amp;quot; Sakura asked mirthfully, as the guard narrowed his eyes and squinted, at her stone-faced. His cardinal-red and gold uniform&lt;br /&gt;
marked him as an elite guard. When he spoke, it was with a forced deference social structure demanded he&lt;br /&gt;
display to the &amp;quot;nobility&amp;quot;, no matter how outre their manner of dress, heredity or habits.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No... milady,&amp;quot; he forced out. &amp;quot;I am here to escort you to the capitol, on urgent business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Whaaaaaaat??&amp;quot; Sakura asked with a pleading, whining voice as the young people with her let out a collective noise of dissappointment. &amp;quot;But it's barely nightfall! The party's just getting staaarted~!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;These... are important matters of state...&amp;quot; the guard muttered,   trying not to look too closely at Sakura's strange attire, her quasi-victorian white shirt, beige pants and tie, brown leather vest and orange hairbow. It was such... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;retrograde&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; attire for a Time Lord!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Man, the state makes minor molehills matters of magnificent meaning,&amp;quot; Sakura continued to whine, turning back to the revelers. &amp;quot;One of the Cardinals probably got a hangnail or something. I'll go in the mornin'.&amp;quot; She turned back to the others, pausing only when the slight pressure of a gloved hand on her arm stopped her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Swinging around, she narrowed her eyes and snapped archly, &amp;quot;Are you *touching me*, guard?&amp;quot; Her tone was so formal, so haughty and angry that even her friends quieted. This was what nobles were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;supposed&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to sound like.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The guard instinctively pulled his hand back as if it had been burnt, and he bowed. &amp;quot;Sorry, milady.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made a show of jerking her arm away. &amp;quot;Yes, well, it will be overlooked, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;this&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; time.&amp;quot; She turned to her friends, her face breaking back into a wide grin, &amp;quot;now if you will excuse meees, my friends and I are gonna PAAAAAAAARTY~~~~!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm afraid you can't, milady,&amp;quot; the guard almost pleaded. Something about his tone struck Sakura, and she turned back to face him, looking at him, head tilted in curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a great liberty, the guard leaned forward and whispered in her ear. Sakura visibly paled, and she bade her friends goodnight, giving them the run of her house. She tursted them to leave it intact, and in truth they would. The Shobogans of Low town would die for &amp;quot;their noble,&amp;quot; not that she would ever allow such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As Sakura and the guard hurried by air car to the Capitol, his words to her echoed in her mind over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's CIA Business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;The Capitol Building, Upper Level 34,410&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura stepped out of the aircar landing bay and into one of the typical, sterile,  well-lit gleaming white hallways that marked the upper levels of the Capitol. They were cold and antiseptic, so far removed from the dark, gloomy depths of the older lower levels where the true power resided. It was an architectural metaphor for the whole of her planet's society and mindset, she mused, making her way to a lift. Dark and grim on the inside, bright and shiny on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;CIA Business&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. What could the Celestial Intervention Agency want now? What new mess had they gotten themselves into? She had joined their ranks because the idea of intervention-- of actively stepping in to make things right-- had naturally called to her, as opposed to the stolid, stodgy, static, set-apart ways and means of most of the other Time Lords. After all, as a great Terran philosopher had said, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. But the organization was steeped in blood and shadow, and she had come to learn that it was far from a perfect solution to the universe's problems. Still. it was better than sitting back and letting the cosmos burn around one.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So engrossed with her musings was Sakura that she barely noticed when she bumped into someone going the other way in the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorries...&amp;quot; she began idly, not really paying attention to the man she had bumped into.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My fault,&amp;quot; the man replied, equally distracted.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, both passers-by stopped, the sound of each other's voices triggering long-buried memories. Memories they had each sought to suppress, for various reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV class=flashback&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Years Earlier&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Well if it isn't the half-breed bitch,&amp;quot; a male voice said from behind Sakura. &amp;quot;And stealing information to boot. That's an expulsion-worthy offense.&amp;quot; The Young man sneered at her. He smiled crookedly. &amp;quot;But I might be willing to overlook it, if you give me some of what you've been givin' old Blyledge.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Aren't your tastes running a little low, if you want to do it with a half-breed?&amp;quot; Sakura asked dangerously, getting up and putting some distance between herself and the leering fellow.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Shut up, bitch!&amp;quot; The boy advanced, wielding a low-grade staser pistol. Sakura heard the sounds of two, possibly three more men coming up behind her from down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All right,&amp;quot; she said as seductively as she could, sidling up to him, and running her fingers across his chest. &amp;quot;I'll show you what the daughter of the house of Venus can do to a man...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The boy smiled and drew her close, his eyes crossing as she kneed him violently and simultaneously grabbed his staser. With a smashing chop to the neck, she dropped him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Aiming the staser at the others, she tried to fire, but it did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A FRELLING TOY?!&amp;quot; She yelled, catching herself. The others came running with pipes and chains.&lt;br /&gt;
hose definitely weren't toys. She ran as fast as she could, away from the, and towards the TARDIS cradles. She still had the key to Blyledge's TARDIS, if she could get to it, she could hole up in there until they left.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You had me running for my life, so many years ago,&amp;quot; Sakura said through gritted teeth, looking straight ahead, away from the man who had tried to rape her so long ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I was... a young fool,&amp;quot; the man replied, a hint of shame in his voice, unable to look up at Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was you...&amp;quot; Sakura continued, looking down at her black and white 50's style golf shoes. &amp;quot;You put Atrex up to pushing me out that window.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Everything...&amp;quot; the man continued, balling up his fists, tears forming in his eyes. &amp;quot;Everything came so easily for you. You waltz in here from offworld, and get adopted by the one man who was literally all of Old Gallifrey&lt;br /&gt;
wrapped up in one. You get instant access to the elite academy, you even get to work on a TARDIS. And I...&lt;br /&gt;
me and the others... we worked our fratzing LIVES to get in through the door...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
His voiced choked and he slammed his fist on the wall. Sakura, for her part, narrowed her eyes, widened her mind, trying to understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You hated me... because you thought I was receiving some kind of fratzing ENTITLEMENT?!&amp;quot; she spat out with disbelief. &amp;quot;I thought my parents were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;dead.&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;  That I had nothing left to live for. I was prepared to DIE. Lord B. took me in and gave me a purpose in life. That's all. I was happy to be here, to be &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;home&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with my people, that's all I wanted!&amp;quot; Tears formed in her eyes as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;'Lord B.',&amp;quot; the man replied quietly, darkly. &amp;quot;Even now, you make light of everything he stood for, everything he was. You do not even do him the honor of using his full name. You make me ill--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Faster than the man could blink, Sakura had spun and pinned him against the wall, her forearm hard against his throat.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lord Blyledge was a FATHER to me when I had no others!&amp;quot; Sakura snapped angrily, her voice hard and cold, a slow rage building. She tapped her forehead. &amp;quot;This symbiotic nuclei in me *is* his! He sacrificed his VERY LIFE to make me the person I am today!&amp;quot; She narrowed her eyes and stared daggers into the man without really looking at him. Heh. She still knew him only as &amp;quot;the man&amp;quot;. With her connections, she could have found out his identity and those of the others who had assaulted her so long ago. But she never had. For some reason she had never wanted to. She had told herself she had just wanted to put it in the past. But part of her knew what she really wanted was to not have to face them again, to face what she, in her black rage, might do to them in retaliation.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Even now,&amp;quot; she hissed, &amp;quot;you're still the same insecure little boy who came at me with a toy staser.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm-- I'm not,&amp;quot; he croaked, trying to breathe. &amp;quot;I have changed, if you can believe that. I... I am sorry, for what I did to you, even if I despise your manner, your affectations, your terran habits.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura leaned in closer, bringing her lips to his ears, but not letting up the pressure on his neck. &amp;quot;Are you truly sorry for what you did to me, the 'half-breed bitch', or are you sorry that you got to see that side of yourself that you try to hard to hide under that smug, sanctimonious, supercillious veneer? That I lowered you to the level of a FIELD ROVIE in rutting season?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I didn't care about pleasure,&amp;quot; the man replied, smirking despite himself. &amp;quot;Pleasure with an offworlder? Disgusting. I simply wanted to shame you, humilate you, show you what a lowly creature  you were-&amp;quot; he checked himself, realizing what he had just said. He looked Sakura in the eye, a mix of regret and fear in his eyes-- but not fear for his safety so much as for what his words meant about himself.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;And how do you feel about me now?&amp;quot; Sakura asked, voice hard as ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The man looked her in the eyes. &amp;quot;You... are not a creature. You are-- are Gallifreyan,&amp;quot; he began.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I am a *Time Lord*&amp;quot;, she said darkly. &amp;quot;Just. Like. You.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Not just like me!&amp;quot; he snapped reflexively, then checked himself again. &amp;quot;Different. Odd. Unalike. Strange.&amp;quot; As he said the words, he furrowed his brow, looking at Sakura-- really &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;looking&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; at her for the first time, it seemed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, he sighed. &amp;quot;I don't know what to make of you, honestly.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura was taken aback by the candor and let him go, stepping back and lowering her arm. She was awash with confusion. She had imagined many things upon confronting this man, the man who had ruined her life and sent her fleeing from her home in tears and grief, thinking herself outcast. She had imagined slowly breaking his fingers one after the other, causing him pain after pain until he had passed out, then scaring the life out of him., lording her hardened resolve and continued life--despite his attempts-- over him. But now... now she was confused. Sympathy for the Devil? For someone who had tried to have her &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;gang-raped&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;? She was not above meteing out capital punishment for wretches such as those. But they had failed in the attempt and run off like cowards, even as she had fled. She didn't know what to do. So she did nothing. She turned her back on him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Blyledge,&amp;quot; the man began plaintively, using the contracted form of her name she usually used on Gallifrey. His voice spoke of apologies to be made, or more excuses given. But Sakura did not wait around to hear. His words meant nothing to her. He was  either sincere or he was not. He would either learn or he would not. rei.bot had taught her that stoicism. She was no longer the fresh-faced naiive young woman from a century ago. If he or his friends tried again, they would not live to tell the tale. His fate was completely in his hands. And as she walked off, the loud authoritative &amp;quot;click-clack&amp;quot; of adamantine soles against permatanium floor left the anonymous man from what seemed like a lifetime ago with exactly that parting message.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few minutes later, Sakura made her way down to the CIA headquarters, which was nestled deep in a time-proof bubble within the very heart of the capitol. The universe could burn around it, and as long as the power held, the CIA could continue on, insulated, protected, preparing to strike back.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Time Lady shivered slightly as time itself seemed to come to a standstill for a moment as she crossed the perimeter of the bubble, entering the disparate micro-continuum that was the central office. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she began instinctively scanning all the holographic readouts, taking in the intelligence reports and digesting the relevant bits of information.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ahh, Blyledge,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said slowly, standing with his back to her. He waved his hand in a braod gesture, causing the large map of the galaxy in front of him to shimmer, zooming in rapidly and refocusing on a tiny blue world in one of the lower spiral arms.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura immediately recognized it as Earth, of course. The pollution content of the atmosphere, coupled&lt;br /&gt;
with the handy time-reference label underneath the shimmering image, told her it was the Earth of&lt;br /&gt;
the 3000's... the period she &amp;quot;lived&amp;quot; in in &amp;quot;realtime&amp;quot;, whatever that meant.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Assignment for you,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator muttered, pulling a datapadd from within his robes and extending his arm sideways, still not turning to face Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura walked forward slowly and took the Padd, reading it, her eyes narrowing as she took in the salient details of the assignment. She bit her lip slightly, but said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
After a few moments of leaden silence, the Co-ordinator spoke again, still not looking at her. &amp;quot;Problem, Blyledge?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura resisted the urge to chuckle or say something flip. The fact that on Gallifrey everyone only called her &amp;quot;Blyledge&amp;quot; was not lost on her. They respected the one part of her name that was not really hers, the honourable name of the prestigious family she had been adopted into. The rest of her name, Sakuraxadiumainoshinguuji, the identifiers that marked her as being of human / venusian / hybrid descent, they denied by omission-- implicitly denying the rest of her that was not purely of Gallifrey.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No, I've read the information,&amp;quot; she responded politely, with the cold, somewhat neutral tone she used&lt;br /&gt;
amongst the other Time Lords.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps you shouldn't skim over it,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said, turning to look Sakura in the eye, traces of a&lt;br /&gt;
smile playing at the corners of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura raised her eyebrows slightly, taking on a slightly aloof demeanour as she matched the Co-ordinator's gaze levelly. She knew full well the Co-ordinator was relishing the task he had set her, putting her against her own father, who had been given the exact &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;opposite&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; assignment by the High Council just two days before. She knew he was expecting her to feel distress, conflict, worry-- perhaps even to decline the assignment. She knew he wanted to find weakness in her, to expose it, to use it against her. But what he didn't know, she thought darkly, was that she thought the CIA was right in this matter,&lt;br /&gt;
and that it didn't matter who fate put in her path.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, I've read it quite closely, and find everything to be quite satisfactory,&amp;quot; she replied in an almost bored tone, doing her best not to show signs of mirth as the Co-ordinator's smile died. &amp;quot;I anticipate full mission success within two milli-spans.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Co-ordinator nodded curtly, carefully hiding any signs of dissappointment, and dismissed her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made her way back to her TARDIS. Privately, she wondered what her mother would make of all this.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=50&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;II&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;Divided&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Loyalties&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD class=&amp;quot;storytext&amp;quot; valign=top&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Throne Room, Magellan Castle, In orbit of Venus&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako, in full regalia as the Princess Venus,  tilted her head to the side slowly, perching her chin on her palm as she gazed at her husband, who was standing before her, dressed formally, arms clasped behind his back. Standing as he was, at the foot of her golden throne, she noted, he looked less like her consort, and more like a distant acquaintance.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, that was how he had approached her, not as the man who loved her, but as an official emissary from the planet Gallifrey, on a diplomatic mission, come making a formal request.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It was nothing they had not discussed the night before, over dinner-- just the two of them, quietly, under the stars on Ishtar Terra. The Time Lords, as usual, had called him away for &amp;quot;work.&amp;quot; Usually this work was boring stuff about people and places and things Minako knew she would never see-- but that night, when he had come back, looking pale in the face, she knew somehow, that his &amp;quot;work&amp;quot; had finally hit home.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Night Before &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What the hell are you saying?!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed, nearly spitting out her food. In the distance, rei.bot did her best to avoid looking shocked.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm saying that tomorrow I'm going to come before you in Royal Court and formally ask you to cast your vote against Chibi--- Queen Serenity III in the referenda, as part of a strategic defensive alliance with Gallifrey.&amp;quot; Xadium said the sentence quietly, calmly, looking his wife straight in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Chibiusa-chan is our friend!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed harshly. &amp;quot;X-chan, how can you ask me to do something&lt;br /&gt;
like that to her?!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not asking you to do it as some kind of favour,&amp;quot; Xadium replied quietly. &amp;quot;Do you honestly think *Chibiusa* is really ready to take command of the *Empire*?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I trust her more than I do Setsuna-san's cousin Xon!&amp;quot; Minako replied, almost banging her fist on the dinner table, but stopping lest she knock over the wine glasses. &amp;quot;I've never even *heard* of him until this whole 'referee' thing got started! He's like some roach who crawled out of the roach motel in the closet!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium ignored the mangled metaphor. Pedantically, he began,  &amp;quot;the '&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;referenda&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;' will decide who controls the Imperial Seat. Earth and Pluto are barred from the voting, as you know, since Pluto brought the motion to unseat Chibiusa, and Chibiusa is from Earth. That leaves the other eight worlds. Mars, Jupiter and Venus have the most weight with two votes apiece to the other's one. Venus' vote will most likely swing Jupiter's and Quinox's. Referendum, which would remove Chibiusa,  can only be achieved with 7 votes.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;know&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said exasperatedly. &amp;quot;Stop treating me like a child.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I know you know,&amp;quot; Xadium replied tiredly, exhaling and looking past Minako to the greyish moutains behind her on the horizon, the black pall of night dimming their natural orangish colour. &amp;quot;As the reigning monarch of Venus you get to cast the planetary vote.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not voting against her, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly. &amp;quot;I don't care what the Time Lords think or what&lt;br /&gt;
stuff they want to give Venus. We've got enough gold-pressed latinum in our treasuries to buy us whatever we need.&amp;quot; She took his hand softly. &amp;quot;We don't need them. And Damascus Xon isn't going to be a good leader, I can feel it. Just because he's related to Setsuna-san in some way doesn't make him a better leader...&amp;quot;  She looked her husband in the eye. &amp;quot;He wants power. Just... power. He doesn't care about people.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Uranus, Neptune and Saturn don't agree,&amp;quot; Xadium pointed out, taking a small sip of the wine on the table.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako shook her head. &amp;quot;The outers always vote as a block... but I'm going to travel to Saturn to ask Hotaru-chan not to do it. This is too important.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mina...&amp;quot; Xadium began slowly, putting down the wine glass and looking her in the eye sincerely, &amp;quot;Chibiusa spent 50 years under the mind control of Ami, who was Eudial's puppet. She wields the Ginzuishou, which translates her will directly into power. You saw the records of what happened&lt;br /&gt;
at her coronation. What if, with all the resources of the Empire at her command, she decides to turn on the people?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She won't,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly, shaking her head even as Xadium opened his mouth to retort. &amp;quot;She won't-- but even if she did, the other planets would fight back. We wouldn't fall to her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Why don't you ask Rei, Ami and Makoto how they liked being Serenity II's Animamate senshi for all those years,&amp;quot; Xadium countered, somewhat forcefully. He took Minako's hand. &amp;quot;If Chibiusa ever did something like that to you--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako pressed a finger to her husband's lips. &amp;quot;Da~me,&amp;quot; she began slowly. &amp;quot;You're barking at the wrong flea.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium made a noise of protest, but Minako shook her head, took away her hand and stood. &amp;quot;Gomen, X-chan. I understand--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Current Moment&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I understand your concern, Xadium of Gallifrey,&amp;quot; Princess Venus said regally, getting to her feet as her court looked on, not unaware of the tension between the two, &amp;quot;but Venus intends to vote for the continued reign of Queen Serenity the Third. This has been our position, and will continue to be so. You may relay that message back to your government.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Bowing very slightly, Venus turned and entered her chambers, signifying that the audience was over.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium waited a respectful amount of time before turning and heading out of the royal court, making&lt;br /&gt;
his way to his TARDIS. He hadn't expected Minako to actually see sense. Loyalty was important, and Chibiusa's friendship equally so, but he didn't &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;trust&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Chibiusa the way the senshi did. He was practical enough to actually consider the possbility her mind was still fragile and vulnerable to corruption.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In his mind, the only solution was to get her off the throne, or at least minimize the damage she could do whilst occupying it. And that meant nullifying the source of her power-- once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium took a long look at the gilded corridors of Magellan Castle. He wondered, if, when all was said and done, he would be allowed here ever again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Stepping into his TARDIS, Xadium closed the doors, took a long look at a small scroll that was resting on a small desk to the side of the console room,  and set course for the far edge of the Solar System.&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Plutonian Epoch]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=576</id>
		<title>Manoeuvers</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Manoeuvers&amp;diff=576"/>
				<updated>2023-12-02T00:48:46Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;   {{Storybox |title=  Manoeuvers |author= Dr. Xadium |creationdate= 10/12/2005 |continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-B |timeplacement= The Plutonian Epoch |synopsis= Sakura X. Aino ar...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
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{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  Manoeuvers&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 10/12/2005&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-B&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= The Plutonian Epoch&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Sakura X. Aino are set on a collision course by the Celestial Intervention Agency. An unfinished work. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= The Goggles. They do nothing. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=title&amp;gt;Manoeuvres&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;the road to hell is paved with good intentions&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; October 12th, 2005 &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 &amp;gt;Planet Gallifrey, CIA Headquarters, The Capitol&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Deep in the darkened chambers that served as the central information nexus of the Agency, two Time Lords, clad in black robes, surrounded by brightly glowing tri-dimensional representations of thousands of space sectors across billions of years,  conferred as the universe seemed to shimmer and shift around them.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Must we use Blyledge?&amp;quot; The voice of the first Time Lord was old, tired, frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I don't like it any more than you do, Co-ordinator, but it *is* her terrain, and considering the circumstances--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But she's a half-breed, decadent... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;outsider&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; the first Time Lord retorted, hissing the last word like an epithet.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She *is* a Time Lord,&amp;quot; the second replied a bit harshly. &amp;quot;Anatomically. Academically. She passed her Academy exams with a Double Alpha minus designation, and has eight doctorates to her name. Not to mention that she is the legitimate heir to the House Blyledge--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Adopted.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And her political ties are &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;all&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; that have kept her welcome on this world. She's taken  that once noble house into a state of shameful ruin! The grounds of house Blyledge are filled with drunken  Shobogan hooligans from Low Town!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 The Co-ordinator's assistant sighed. &amp;quot;She does have an annoying egalitarian streak, yes. But you cannot dispute her results.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;No, no I suppose you cannot,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator conceded. &amp;quot;Send for her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 As his assistant did so, the Co-ordinator chuckled. His objections had been merely for show, of course. He had made certain Sakuraxadiumainoshinguujiblyledge would be drawn for this assignment. It was far beyond her skills of course-- and when she failed more competent forces would be deployed to clean up what would be her very public mess-- but even if by some miracle she should succeed, she would humilate that other member of her family who had brought so much shame to Gallifrey. Either way, this mission would give him something he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;House Blyledge, Overlooking the Capitol City&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Raise it another five point six three-five degrees!&amp;quot; Sakura yelled, her voice carrying high to the shobogan youths clustered on the roof of her palatial, gothic-styled mansion. She could barely make out their outlines in the silvery burnt orange twighlight night.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Right!&amp;quot; yelled one of the lads working the cannon-like device mounted there. &amp;quot;Done!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;FIRE!&amp;quot; Sakura ordered. With a THOOM, a large volley of ale kegs, fireworks and toilet paper lauched high into the air, streaking out over the Capitol at hypersonic speed, blossoming into a huge fireball cloud of detrius.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Five hundred meters!&amp;quot; one of the girls keeping track exclaimed. &amp;quot;A new record!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;w00t!&amp;quot; Sakura exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, woot,&amp;quot; a Capitol guard, who had been watching the whole spectacle dimly, intoned dryly, as Sakura sweatdropped.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Come to celebrate the christening of the brilliantly blazing baryonic boomcannon, buddy?&amp;quot; Sakura asked mirthfully, as the guard narrowed his eyes and squinted, at her stone-faced. His cardinal-red and gold uniform&lt;br /&gt;
marked him as an elite guard. When he spoke, it was with a forced deference social structure demanded he&lt;br /&gt;
display to the &amp;quot;nobility&amp;quot;, no matter how outre their manner of dress, heredity or habits.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No... milady,&amp;quot; he forced out. &amp;quot;I am here to escort you to the capitol, on urgent business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Whaaaaaaat??&amp;quot; Sakura asked with a pleading, whining voice as the young people with her let out a collective noise of dissappointment. &amp;quot;But it's barely nightfall! The party's just getting staaarted~!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;These... are important matters of state...&amp;quot; the guard muttered,   trying not to look too closely at Sakura's strange attire, her quasi-victorian white shirt, beige pants and tie, brown leather vest and orange hairbow. It was such... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;retrograde&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; attire for a Time Lord!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Man, the state makes minor molehills matters of magnificent meaning,&amp;quot; Sakura continued to whine, turning back to the revelers. &amp;quot;One of the Cardinals probably got a hangnail or something. I'll go in the mornin'.&amp;quot; She turned back to the others, pausing only when the slight pressure of a gloved hand on her arm stopped her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Swinging around, she narrowed her eyes and snapped archly, &amp;quot;Are you *touching me*, guard?&amp;quot; Her tone was so formal, so haughty and angry that even her friends quieted. This was what nobles were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;supposed&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; to sound like.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The guard instinctively pulled his hand back as if it had been burnt, and he bowed. &amp;quot;Sorry, milady.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made a show of jerking her arm away. &amp;quot;Yes, well, it will be overlooked, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;this&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; time.&amp;quot; She turned to her friends, her face breaking back into a wide grin, &amp;quot;now if you will excuse meees, my friends and I are gonna PAAAAAAAARTY~~~~!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm afraid you can't, milady,&amp;quot; the guard almost pleaded. Something about his tone struck Sakura, and she turned back to face him, looking at him, head tilted in curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a great liberty, the guard leaned forward and whispered in her ear. Sakura visibly paled, and she bade her friends goodnight, giving them the run of her house. She tursted them to leave it intact, and in truth they would. The Shobogans of Low town would die for &amp;quot;their noble,&amp;quot; not that she would ever allow such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
As Sakura and the guard hurried by air car to the Capitol, his words to her echoed in her mind over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's CIA Business.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;The Capitol Building, Upper Level 34,410&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura stepped out of the aircar landing bay and into one of the typical, sterile,  well-lit gleaming white hallways that marked the upper levels of the Capitol. They were cold and antiseptic, so far removed from the dark, gloomy depths of the older lower levels where the true power resided. It was an architectural metaphor for the whole of her planet's society and mindset, she mused, making her way to a lift. Dark and grim on the inside, bright and shiny on the outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;CIA Business&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. What could the Celestial Intervention Agency want now? What new mess had they gotten themselves into? She had joined their ranks because the idea of intervention-- of actively stepping in to make things right-- had naturally called to her, as opposed to the stolid, stodgy, static, set-apart ways and means of most of the other Time Lords. After all, as a great Terran philosopher had said, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. But the organization was steeped in blood and shadow, and she had come to learn that it was far from a perfect solution to the universe's problems. Still. it was better than sitting back and letting the cosmos burn around one.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So engrossed with her musings was Sakura that she barely noticed when she bumped into someone going the other way in the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorries...&amp;quot; she began idly, not really paying attention to the man she had bumped into.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My fault,&amp;quot; the man replied, equally distracted.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, both passers-by stopped, the sound of each other's voices triggering long-buried memories. Memories they had each sought to suppress, for various reasons.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV class=flashback&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Years Earlier&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Well if it isn't the half-breed bitch,&amp;quot; a male voice said from behind Sakura. &amp;quot;And stealing information to boot. That's an expulsion-worthy offense.&amp;quot; The Young man sneered at her. He smiled crookedly. &amp;quot;But I might be willing to overlook it, if you give me some of what you've been givin' old Blyledge.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Aren't your tastes running a little low, if you want to do it with a half-breed?&amp;quot; Sakura asked dangerously, getting up and putting some distance between herself and the leering fellow.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Shut up, bitch!&amp;quot; The boy advanced, wielding a low-grade staser pistol. Sakura heard the sounds of two, possibly three more men coming up behind her from down the hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All right,&amp;quot; she said as seductively as she could, sidling up to him, and running her fingers across his chest. &amp;quot;I'll show you what the daughter of the house of Venus can do to a man...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The boy smiled and drew her close, his eyes crossing as she kneed him violently and simultaneously grabbed his staser. With a smashing chop to the neck, she dropped him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Aiming the staser at the others, she tried to fire, but it did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A FRELLING TOY?!&amp;quot; She yelled, catching herself. The others came running with pipes and chains.&lt;br /&gt;
hose definitely weren't toys. She ran as fast as she could, away from the, and towards the TARDIS cradles. She still had the key to Blyledge's TARDIS, if she could get to it, she could hole up in there until they left.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You had me running for my life, so many years ago,&amp;quot; Sakura said through gritted teeth, looking straight ahead, away from the man who had tried to rape her so long ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I was... a young fool,&amp;quot; the man replied, a hint of shame in his voice, unable to look up at Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was you...&amp;quot; Sakura continued, looking down at her black and white 50's style golf shoes. &amp;quot;You put Atrex up to pushing me out that window.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Everything...&amp;quot; the man continued, balling up his fists, tears forming in his eyes. &amp;quot;Everything came so easily for you. You waltz in here from offworld, and get adopted by the one man who was literally all of Old Gallifrey&lt;br /&gt;
wrapped up in one. You get instant access to the elite academy, you even get to work on a TARDIS. And I...&lt;br /&gt;
me and the others... we worked our fratzing LIVES to get in through the door...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
His voiced choked and he slammed his fist on the wall. Sakura, for her part, narrowed her eyes, widened her mind, trying to understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You hated me... because you thought I was receiving some kind of fratzing ENTITLEMENT?!&amp;quot; she spat out with disbelief. &amp;quot;I thought my parents were &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;dead.&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt;  That I had nothing left to live for. I was prepared to DIE. Lord B. took me in and gave me a purpose in life. That's all. I was happy to be here, to be &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;home&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with my people, that's all I wanted!&amp;quot; Tears formed in her eyes as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;'Lord B.',&amp;quot; the man replied quietly, darkly. &amp;quot;Even now, you make light of everything he stood for, everything he was. You do not even do him the honor of using his full name. You make me ill--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Faster than the man could blink, Sakura had spun and pinned him against the wall, her forearm hard against his throat.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lord Blyledge was a FATHER to me when I had no others!&amp;quot; Sakura snapped angrily, her voice hard and cold, a slow rage building. She tapped her forehead. &amp;quot;This symbiotic nuclei in me *is* his! He sacrificed his VERY LIFE to make me the person I am today!&amp;quot; She narrowed her eyes and stared daggers into the man without really looking at him. Heh. She still knew him only as &amp;quot;the man&amp;quot;. With her connections, she could have found out his identity and those of the others who had assaulted her so long ago. But she never had. For some reason she had never wanted to. She had told herself she had just wanted to put it in the past. But part of her knew what she really wanted was to not have to face them again, to face what she, in her black rage, might do to them in retaliation.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Even now,&amp;quot; she hissed, &amp;quot;you're still the same insecure little boy who came at me with a toy staser.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm-- I'm not,&amp;quot; he croaked, trying to breathe. &amp;quot;I have changed, if you can believe that. I... I am sorry, for what I did to you, even if I despise your manner, your affectations, your terran habits.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura leaned in closer, bringing her lips to his ears, but not letting up the pressure on his neck. &amp;quot;Are you truly sorry for what you did to me, the 'half-breed bitch', or are you sorry that you got to see that side of yourself that you try to hard to hide under that smug, sanctimonious, supercillious veneer? That I lowered you to the level of a FIELD ROVIE in rutting season?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I didn't care about pleasure,&amp;quot; the man replied, smirking despite himself. &amp;quot;Pleasure with an offworlder? Disgusting. I simply wanted to shame you, humilate you, show you what a lowly creature  you were-&amp;quot; he checked himself, realizing what he had just said. He looked Sakura in the eye, a mix of regret and fear in his eyes-- but not fear for his safety so much as for what his words meant about himself.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;And how do you feel about me now?&amp;quot; Sakura asked, voice hard as ice.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The man looked her in the eyes. &amp;quot;You... are not a creature. You are-- are Gallifreyan,&amp;quot; he began.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I am a *Time Lord*&amp;quot;, she said darkly. &amp;quot;Just. Like. You.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Not just like me!&amp;quot; he snapped reflexively, then checked himself again. &amp;quot;Different. Odd. Unalike. Strange.&amp;quot; As he said the words, he furrowed his brow, looking at Sakura-- really &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;looking&amp;lt;/i&amp;gt; at her for the first time, it seemed.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Finally, he sighed. &amp;quot;I don't know what to make of you, honestly.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura was taken aback by the candor and let him go, stepping back and lowering her arm. She was awash with confusion. She had imagined many things upon confronting this man, the man who had ruined her life and sent her fleeing from her home in tears and grief, thinking herself outcast. She had imagined slowly breaking his fingers one after the other, causing him pain after pain until he had passed out, then scaring the life out of him., lording her hardened resolve and continued life--despite his attempts-- over him. But now... now she was confused. Sympathy for the Devil? For someone who had tried to have her &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;gang-raped&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;? She was not above meteing out capital punishment for wretches such as those. But they had failed in the attempt and run off like cowards, even as she had fled. She didn't know what to do. So she did nothing. She turned her back on him.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Blyledge,&amp;quot; the man began plaintively, using the contracted form of her name she usually used on Gallifrey. His voice spoke of apologies to be made, or more excuses given. But Sakura did not wait around to hear. His words meant nothing to her. He was  either sincere or he was not. He would either learn or he would not. rei.bot had taught her that stoicism. She was no longer the fresh-faced naiive young woman from a century ago. If he or his friends tried again, they would not live to tell the tale. His fate was completely in his hands. And as she walked off, the loud authoritative &amp;quot;click-clack&amp;quot; of adamantine soles against permatanium floor left the anonymous man from what seemed like a lifetime ago with exactly that parting message.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A few minutes later, Sakura made her way down to the CIA headquarters, which was nestled deep in a time-proof bubble within the very heart of the capitol. The universe could burn around it, and as long as the power held, the CIA could continue on, insulated, protected, preparing to strike back.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Time Lady shivered slightly as time itself seemed to come to a standstill for a moment as she crossed the perimeter of the bubble, entering the disparate micro-continuum that was the central office. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she began instinctively scanning all the holographic readouts, taking in the intelligence reports and digesting the relevant bits of information.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ahh, Blyledge,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said slowly, standing with his back to her. He waved his hand in a braod gesture, causing the large map of the galaxy in front of him to shimmer, zooming in rapidly and refocusing on a tiny blue world in one of the lower spiral arms.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura immediately recognized it as Earth, of course. The pollution content of the atmosphere, coupled&lt;br /&gt;
with the handy time-reference label underneath the shimmering image, told her it was the Earth of&lt;br /&gt;
the 3000's... the period she &amp;quot;lived&amp;quot; in in &amp;quot;realtime&amp;quot;, whatever that meant.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Assignment for you,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator muttered, pulling a datapadd from within his robes and extending his arm sideways, still not turning to face Sakura.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura walked forward slowly and took the Padd, reading it, her eyes narrowing as she took in the salient details of the assignment. She bit her lip slightly, but said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
After a few moments of leaden silence, the Co-ordinator spoke again, still not looking at her. &amp;quot;Problem, Blyledge?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura resisted the urge to chuckle or say something flip. The fact that on Gallifrey everyone only called her &amp;quot;Blyledge&amp;quot; was not lost on her. They respected the one part of her name that was not really hers, the honourable name of the prestigious family she had been adopted into. The rest of her name, Sakuraxadiumainoshinguuji, the identifiers that marked her as being of human / venusian / hybrid descent, they denied by omission-- implicitly denying the rest of her that was not purely of Gallifrey.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No, I've read the information,&amp;quot; she responded politely, with the cold, somewhat neutral tone she used&lt;br /&gt;
amongst the other Time Lords.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps you shouldn't skim over it,&amp;quot; the Co-ordinator said, turning to look Sakura in the eye, traces of a&lt;br /&gt;
smile playing at the corners of his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura raised her eyebrows slightly, taking on a slightly aloof demeanour as she matched the Co-ordinator's gaze levelly. She knew full well the Co-ordinator was relishing the task he had set her, putting her against her own father, who had been given the exact &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;opposite&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; assignment by the High Council just two days before. She knew he was expecting her to feel distress, conflict, worry-- perhaps even to decline the assignment. She knew he wanted to find weakness in her, to expose it, to use it against her. But what he didn't know, she thought darkly, was that she thought the CIA was right in this matter,&lt;br /&gt;
and that it didn't matter who fate put in her path.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, I've read it quite closely, and find everything to be quite satisfactory,&amp;quot; she replied in an almost bored tone, doing her best not to show signs of mirth as the Co-ordinator's smile died. &amp;quot;I anticipate full mission success within two milli-spans.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Co-ordinator nodded curtly, carefully hiding any signs of dissappointment, and dismissed her.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sakura made her way back to her TARDIS. Privately, she wondered what her mother would make of all this.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt;Throne Room, Magellan Castle, In orbit of Venus&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako, in full regalia as the Princess Venus,  tilted her head to the side slowly, perching her chin on her palm as she gazed at her husband, who was standing before her, dressed formally, arms clasped behind his back. Standing as he was, at the foot of her golden throne, she noted, he looked less like her consort, and more like a distant acquaintance.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, that was how he had approached her, not as the man who loved her, but as an official emissary from the planet Gallifrey, on a diplomatic mission, come making a formal request.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It was nothing they had not discussed the night before, over dinner-- just the two of them, quietly, under the stars on Ishtar Terra. The Time Lords, as usual, had called him away for &amp;quot;work.&amp;quot; Usually this work was boring stuff about people and places and things Minako knew she would never see-- but that night, when he had come back, looking pale in the face, she knew somehow, that his &amp;quot;work&amp;quot; had finally hit home.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Night Before &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What the hell are you saying?!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed, nearly spitting out her food. In the distance, rei.bot did her best to avoid looking shocked.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm saying that tomorrow I'm going to come before you in Royal Court and formally ask you to cast your vote against Chibi--- Queen Serenity III in the referenda, as part of a strategic defensive alliance with Gallifrey.&amp;quot; Xadium said the sentence quietly, calmly, looking his wife straight in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Chibiusa-chan is our friend!&amp;quot; Minako exclaimed harshly. &amp;quot;X-chan, how can you ask me to do something&lt;br /&gt;
like that to her?!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not asking you to do it as some kind of favour,&amp;quot; Xadium replied quietly. &amp;quot;Do you honestly think *Chibiusa* is really ready to take command of the *Empire*?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I trust her more than I do Setsuna-san's cousin Xon!&amp;quot; Minako replied, almost banging her fist on the dinner table, but stopping lest she knock over the wine glasses. &amp;quot;I've never even *heard* of him until this whole 'referee' thing got started! He's like some roach who crawled out of the roach motel in the closet!!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium ignored the mangled metaphor. Pedantically, he began,  &amp;quot;the '&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;referenda&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;' will decide who controls the Imperial Seat. Earth and Pluto are barred from the voting, as you know, since Pluto brought the motion to unseat Chibiusa, and Chibiusa is from Earth. That leaves the other eight worlds. Mars, Jupiter and Venus have the most weight with two votes apiece to the other's one. Venus' vote will most likely swing Jupiter's and Quinox's. Referendum, which would remove Chibiusa,  can only be achieved with 7 votes.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;know&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said exasperatedly. &amp;quot;Stop treating me like a child.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I know you know,&amp;quot; Xadium replied tiredly, exhaling and looking past Minako to the greyish moutains behind her on the horizon, the black pall of night dimming their natural orangish colour. &amp;quot;As the reigning monarch of Venus you get to cast the planetary vote.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm not voting against her, X-chan,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly. &amp;quot;I don't care what the Time Lords think or what&lt;br /&gt;
stuff they want to give Venus. We've got enough gold-pressed latinum in our treasuries to buy us whatever we need.&amp;quot; She took his hand softly. &amp;quot;We don't need them. And Damascus Xon isn't going to be a good leader, I can feel it. Just because he's related to Setsuna-san in some way doesn't make him a better leader...&amp;quot;  She looked her husband in the eye. &amp;quot;He wants power. Just... power. He doesn't care about people.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Uranus, Neptune and Saturn don't agree,&amp;quot; Xadium pointed out, taking a small sip of the wine on the table.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako shook her head. &amp;quot;The outers always vote as a block... but I'm going to travel to Saturn to ask Hotaru-chan not to do it. This is too important.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mina...&amp;quot; Xadium began slowly, putting down the wine glass and looking her in the eye sincerely, &amp;quot;Chibiusa spent 50 years under the mind control of Ami, who was Eudial's puppet. She wields the Ginzuishou, which translates her will directly into power. You saw the records of what happened&lt;br /&gt;
at her coronation. What if, with all the resources of the Empire at her command, she decides to turn on the people?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;She won't,&amp;quot; Minako said firmly, shaking her head even as Xadium opened his mouth to retort. &amp;quot;She won't-- but even if she did, the other planets would fight back. We wouldn't fall to her.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Why don't you ask Rei, Ami and Makoto how they liked being Serenity II's Animamate senshi for all those years,&amp;quot; Xadium countered, somewhat forcefully. He took Minako's hand. &amp;quot;If Chibiusa ever did something like that to you--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Minako pressed a finger to her husband's lips. &amp;quot;Da~me,&amp;quot; she began slowly. &amp;quot;You're barking at the wrong flea.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium made a noise of protest, but Minako shook her head, took away her hand and stood. &amp;quot;Gomen, X-chan. I understand--&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;h2&amp;gt; The Current Moment&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I understand your concern, Xadium of Gallifrey,&amp;quot; Princess Venus said regally, getting to her feet as her court looked on, not unaware of the tension between the two, &amp;quot;but Venus intends to vote for the continued reign of Queen Serenity the Third. This has been our position, and will continue to be so. You may relay that message back to your government.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Bowing very slightly, Venus turned and entered her chambers, signifying that the audience was over.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium waited a respectful amount of time before turning and heading out of the royal court, making&lt;br /&gt;
his way to his TARDIS. He hadn't expected Minako to actually see sense. Loyalty was important, and Chibiusa's friendship equally so, but he didn't &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;trust&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Chibiusa the way the senshi did. He was practical enough to actually consider the possbility her mind was still fragile and vulnerable to corruption.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
In his mind, the only solution was to get her off the throne, or at least minimize the damage she could do whilst occupying it. And that meant nullifying the source of her power-- once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Xadium took a long look at the gilded corridors of Magellan Castle. He wondered, if, when all was said and done, he would be allowed here ever again.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Stepping into his TARDIS, Xadium closed the doors, took a long look at a small scroll that was resting on a small desk to the side of the console room,  and set course for the far edge of the Solar System.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Plutonian Epoch]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=564</id>
		<title>From Past to Promise</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=564"/>
				<updated>2021-05-12T12:30:46Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  From Past to Promise&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Doctor Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 05/12/2021&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= May 11 / 12, 2021&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley urges Exeter to get past the past for their own future. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= N/A &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They lay together in bed, snuggled close, half-asleep but still struggling with a groggy sort of wakefulness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was still awake, staring somewhat intently at the ceiling.  He noticed, reaching out and stroking her silken black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What's wrong, Paise?&amp;quot; Exeter asked. He felt her grip his hand in response. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm frightened,&amp;quot; she replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This took him aback. Paisley was generally very outwardly confident and didn't easily reveal her vulnerabilities to anyone, even him. Not even when they were this close.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what?&amp;quot; He asked carefully, so as not to cause her to withdraw. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what I see in your soul when you let your walls down at night,&amp;quot; she whispered in reply, not looking at him. &amp;quot;When we're both asleep and our thoughts and dreams and souls mix freely and we might as well be the same person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a moment's pause, she continued. &amp;quot;In the back of your mind, you're always stuck in the past, wondering about 'what if',&amp;quot; she said, voice trembling a little. &amp;quot;'What if I did this', or 'what if I did that'. Pondering the small decisions and choices that could have spun your life off into completely different trajectories. 'What if I'd taken a chance with this person', or 'what if I'd done something differently with that person', or 'what if I'd never come to Earth.'&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her grip on his hand tightened subtly. &amp;quot;All the links in the chain of your lives that led you to me would be undone by even one of those changes... and you and I both know there are beings in this world who could break those links with just a thought.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter murmured slightly. &amp;quot;They're just thought experiments run by my subconscious, love. I don't even think about them, really. And they're about times so long ago that they were literally lives lived by a different person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Still!&amp;quot; Paisley protested. &amp;quot;They take up a pretty significant portion of your thoughts. It's a little beyond a mere curiousity... and I'm afraid that one day... somehow...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She turned on her side to look at him now, her purple eyes almost black in the darkness. &amp;quot;That one day you might end up tugging on one of those threads and we... we would never...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He hugged her tightly, pulling her to him. &amp;quot;Love, that won't even happen,&amp;quot; he said firmly. &amp;quot;Right here, right now, with you, is where I want to be.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;I'm sure you felt that way with the others, too.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Paisley didn't have to say it. That unspoken thought weighed upon them for a leaden moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She nestled in close, pressing to him almost urgently. He could sense the fear in her. Most people were afraid of ghosts, or money problems, but Paisley, Exeter noted, got worked up over the fundamental existential paradoxes and pitfalls of multiversal existence. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What can I do to ease this fear?&amp;quot; He asked softly, running a hand through her hair. &amp;quot;You know, we still haven't set a date for the wedding,&amp;quot; he mused out loud. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley took in a deep breath. &amp;quot;I don't want a wedding,&amp;quot; she replied. &amp;quot;I want your promise,&amp;quot;  she softly whispered in his ear.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Your promise... your &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;covenant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with me in lieu of a wedding ceremony that from tonight on, you'll bury your multiple pasts and just focus on the new beginning we forged together from that moment three years eleven months,  seven days, five hours, seven minutes and eighteen seconds when we first confessed to each other on the couch in my sitting room and...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter tightened his grip on her hand, always impressed by how precisely she kept track of their time together. It was almost Time Lord like in its precision.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley rolled to the side, pulling him atop her, her gaze locked to his. He slowly centered himself over her, looking her deep in the eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Our destinies started to orbit each other much earlier than that,&amp;quot; he whispered gently in her ear as he began lowering to her. &amp;quot;From the moment you first appeared on the island over a decade ago, we started orbiting each other, even if we didn't realize it ourselves at the time...&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley murmured as she felt his weight press down comfortingly on her, and she enfolded the small of his his back with her legs, wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling him even closer with a contented sigh. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Promise me,&amp;quot; she whispered back just as hotly, &amp;quot;that from right now, you'll forget about _____ and ____ and _____ and focus on the miracles we have &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;today&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, and moving forward with me to a new future...&amp;quot;She raised up to brush her lips to his as she pressed his hips to hers with her legs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I promise,&amp;quot; he murmured hotly, kissing her deeply, moaning through the kiss and joining with her fully, the curves of her body melding to him as the curves of their separate histories pressed fully together to form one new whole towards the future. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sealing the promise with their ecstasy, they greeted the dawn together with a new resolve to move forward as one and leave the ghosts of the past forever behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Doctor Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=563</id>
		<title>From Past to Promise</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=563"/>
				<updated>2021-05-12T12:30:26Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  From Past to Promise&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Doctor Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 05/12/2021&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= May 11 / 12, 2021&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley urges Exeter to get past the past for their own future. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= N/A &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They lay together in bed, snuggled close, half-asleep but still struggling with a groggy sort of wakefulness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was still awake, staring somewhat intently at the ceiling.  He noticed, reaching out and stroking her silken black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What's wrong, Paise?&amp;quot; Exeter asked. He felt her grip his hand in response. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm frightened,&amp;quot; she replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This took him aback. Paisley was generally very outwardly confident and didn't easily reveal her vulnerabilities to anyone, even him. Not even when they were this close.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what?&amp;quot; He asked carefully, so as not to cause her to withdraw. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what I see in your soul when you let your walls down at night,&amp;quot; she whispered in reply, not looking at him. &amp;quot;When we're both asleep and our thoughts and dreams and souls mix freely and we might as well be the same person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a moment's pause, she continued. &amp;quot;In the back of your mind, you're always stuck in the past, wondering about 'what if',&amp;quot; she said, voice trembling a little. &amp;quot;'What if I did this', or 'what if I did that'. Pondering the small decisions and choices that could have spun your life off into completely different trajectories. 'What if I'd taken a chance with this person', or 'what if I'd done something differently with that person', or 'what if I'd never come to Earth.'&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her grip on his hand tightened subtly. &amp;quot;All the links in the chain of your lives that led you to me would be undone by even one of those changes... and you and I both know there are beings in this world who could break those links with just a thought.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter murmured slightly. &amp;quot;They're just thought experiments run by my subconscious, love. I don't even think about them, really. And they're about times so long ago that they were literally lives lived by a different person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Still!&amp;quot; Paisley protested. &amp;quot;They take up a pretty significant portion of your thoughts. It's a little beyond a mere curiousity... and I'm afraid that one day... somehow...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She turned on her side to look at him now, her purple eyes almost black in the darkness. &amp;quot;That one day you might end up tugging on one of those threads and we... we would never...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He hugged her tightly, pulling her to him. &amp;quot;Love, that won't even happen,&amp;quot; he said firmly. &amp;quot;Right here, right now, with you, is where I want to be.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;I'm sure you felt that way with the others, too.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Paisley didn't have to say it. That unspoken thought weighed upon them for a leaden moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She nestled in close, pressing to him almost urgently. He could sense the fear in her. Most people were afraid of ghosts, or money problems, but Paisley, Exeter noted, got worked up over the fundamental existential paradoxes and pitfalls of multiversal existence. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What can I do to ease this fear?&amp;quot; He asked softly, running a hand through her hair. &amp;quot;You know, we still haven't set a date for the wedding,&amp;quot; he mused out loud. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley took in a deep breath. &amp;quot;I don't want a wedding,&amp;quot; she replied. &amp;quot;I want your promise,&amp;quot;  she softly whispered in his ear.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Your promise... your &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;covenant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with me in lieu of a wedding ceremony that from tonight on, you'll bury your multiple pasts and just focus on the new beginning we forged together from that moment three years eleven months,  seven days, five hours, seven minutes and eighteen seconds when we first confessed to each other on the couch in my sitting room and...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter tightened his grip on her hand, always impressed by how precisely she kept track of their time together. It was almost Time Lord like in its precision.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley rolled to the side, pulling him atop her, her gaze locked to his. He slowly centered himself over her, looking her deep in the eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Our destinies started to orbit each other much earlier than that,&amp;quot; he whispered gently in her ear as he began lowering to her. &amp;quot;From the moment you first appeared on the island over a decade ago, we started orbiting each other, even if we didn't realize it ourselves at the time...&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley murmured as she felt his weight press down comfortingly on her, and she enfolded the small of his his back with her legs, wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling him even closer with a contented sigh. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Promise me,&amp;quot; she whispered back just as hotly, &amp;quot;that from right now, you'll forget about _____ and ____ and _____ and focus on the miracles we have &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;today&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, and moving forward with me to a new future...&amp;quot;She raised up to brush her lips to his as she pressed his hips to hers with her legs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I promise,&amp;quot; he murmured hotly, kissing her deeply, moaning through the kiss and joining with her fully, the curves of her body melding to him as the curves of their separate histories pressed fully together to form one new whole towards the future. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sealing the promise with their ecstasy, they greeted the dawn together with a new resolve to move forward as one and leave the ghosts of the past forever behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Doctor Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-- STOP COPYING, DON'T COPY THIS LINE --&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=562</id>
		<title>From Past to Promise</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=From_Past_to_Promise&amp;diff=562"/>
				<updated>2021-05-12T12:29:41Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;This is a sample page that you can copy the contents of and paste your story into to help give the contents of the wiki a consistent look. Hit edit to see the source.    -- CO...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;This is a sample page that you can copy the contents of and paste your story into to help give the contents of the wiki a consistent look. Hit edit to see the source. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-- COPY BELOW THIS LINE --&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  From Past to Promise&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Doctor Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 05/12/2021&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= May 11 / 12, 2021&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley urges Exeter to get past the past for their own future. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG-13&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= N/A &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They lay together in bed, snuggled close, half-asleep but still struggling with a groggy sort of wakefulness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was still awake, staring somewhat intently at the ceiling.  He noticed, reaching out and stroking her silken black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What's wrong, Paise?&amp;quot; Exeter asked. He felt her grip his hand in response. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm frightened,&amp;quot; she replied. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This took him aback. Paisley was generally very outwardly confident and didn't easily reveal her vulnerabilities to anyone, even him. Not even when they were this close.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what?&amp;quot; He asked carefully, so as not to cause her to withdraw. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Of what I see in your soul when you let your walls down at night,&amp;quot; she whispered in reply, not looking at him. &amp;quot;When we're both asleep and our thoughts and dreams and souls mix freely and we might as well be the same person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Taking a moment's pause, she continued. &amp;quot;In the back of your mind, you're always stuck in the past, wondering about 'what if',&amp;quot; she said, voice trembling a little. &amp;quot;'What if I did this', or 'what if I did that'. Pondering the small decisions and choices that could have spun your life off into completely different trajectories. 'What if I'd taken a chance with this person', or 'what if I'd done something differently with that person', or 'what if I'd never come to Earth.'&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her grip on his hand tightened subtly. &amp;quot;All the links in the chain of your lives that led you to me would be undone by even one of those changes... and you and I both know there are beings in this world who could break those links with just a thought.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter murmured slightly. &amp;quot;They're just thought experiments run by my subconscious, love. I don't even think about them, really. And they're about times so long ago that they were literally lives lived by a different person.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Still!&amp;quot; Paisley protested. &amp;quot;They take up a pretty significant portion of your thoughts. It's a little beyond a mere curiousity... and I'm afraid that one day... somehow...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She turned on her side to look at him now, her purple eyes almost black in the darkness. &amp;quot;That one day you might end up tugging on one of those threads and we... we would never...&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He hugged her tightly, pulling her to him. &amp;quot;Love, that won't even happen,&amp;quot; he said firmly. &amp;quot;Right here, right now, with you, is where I want to be.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;I'm sure you felt that way with the others, too.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; Paisley didn't have to say it. That unspoken thought weighed upon them for a leaden moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She nestled in close, pressing to him almost urgently. He could sense the fear in her. Most people were afraid of ghosts, or money problems, but Paisley, Exeter noted, got worked up over the fundamental existential paradoxes and pitfalls of multiversal existence. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What can I do to ease this fear?&amp;quot; He asked softly, running a hand through her hair. &amp;quot;You know, we still haven't set a date for the wedding,&amp;quot; he mused out loud. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley took in a deep breath. &amp;quot;I don't want a wedding,&amp;quot; she replied. &amp;quot;I want your promise,&amp;quot;  she softly whispered in his ear.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Your promise... your &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;covenant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; with me in lieu of a wedding ceremony that from tonight on, you'll bury your multiple pasts and just focus on the new beginning we forged together from that moment three years eleven months,  seven days, five hours, seven minutes and eighteen seconds when we first confessed to each other on the couch in my sitting room and...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Exeter tightened his grip on her hand, always impressed by how precisely she kept track of their time together. It was almost Time Lord like in its precision.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley rolled to the side, pulling him atop her, her gaze locked to his. He slowly centered himself over her, looking her deep in the eyes. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Our destinies started to orbit each other much earlier than that,&amp;quot; he whispered gently in her ear as he began lowering to her. &amp;quot;From the moment you first appeared on the island over a decade ago, we started orbiting each other, even if we didn't realize it ourselves at the time...&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley murmured as she felt his weight press down comfortingly on her, and she enfolded the small of his his back with her legs, wrapping one arm around his neck, pulling him even closer with a contented sigh. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Promise me,&amp;quot; she whispered back just as hotly, &amp;quot;that from right now, you'll forget about _____ and ____ and _____ and focus on the miracles we have &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;today&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, and moving forward with me to a new future...&amp;quot;She raised up to brush her lips to his as she pressed his hips to hers with her legs. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I promise,&amp;quot; he murmured hotly, kissing her deeply, moaning through the kiss and joining with her fully, the curves of her body melding to him as the curves of their separate histories pressed fully together to form one new whole towards the future. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sealing the promise with their ecstasy, they greeted the dawn together with a new resolve to move forward as one and leave the ghosts of the past forever behind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Doctor Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-- STOP COPYING, DON'T COPY THIS LINE --&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Category:Series&amp;diff=556</id>
		<title>Category:Series</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Category:Series&amp;diff=556"/>
				<updated>2020-12-22T16:29:48Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;Series are linked stories.&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Series are linked stories.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=SSEU_OVA_1:_Lost_in_Time_(series)&amp;diff=555</id>
		<title>SSEU OVA 1: Lost in Time (series)</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=SSEU_OVA_1:_Lost_in_Time_(series)&amp;diff=555"/>
				<updated>2020-12-22T16:29:19Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;Xadium and Minako are lost in time, trying to make their way back home, in a journey that will take them to the edges of Time and Space and beyond. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 1 - [[The Light of Hope]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 2 - [[The Heart of Darkness]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 3 - [[The Fall From Grace]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 4 - [[Cogito Ergo Sum]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 4a - [[Hatred of Angels]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 5 - [[Love's Bitter Poison]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 6 - [[The Tears of the Flame]]&lt;br /&gt;
* Part 7 - [[The Final Legacy]]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
[[ Category: Doctor Xadium ]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:Series]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=554</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=554"/>
				<updated>2020-12-22T16:28:37Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=https://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
{{Special:Newestpages/-/10}}&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Interested in writing a story using other player's characters? Be sure to check the [[Character Permissions Guide]] first!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Makoto%27s_Melancholy&amp;diff=544</id>
		<title>Makoto's Melancholy</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Makoto%27s_Melancholy&amp;diff=544"/>
				<updated>2020-11-29T18:47:39Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;{{Storybox&lt;br /&gt;
|title=  Makoto's Melancholy&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Euri &lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 11/29/2020&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= November, 2020&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= A frustrated Makoto and her deluge of dreams.&lt;br /&gt;
|rating= M&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes=  &lt;br /&gt;
|}}&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD  style=&amp;quot;font: 100% georgia, times new roman, times, serif;  line-height:150%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the year 2020 during the month of November, Makoto Kino, the Jovian Sailor Guardian of Love, Courage, and Protection, couldn’t sleep.  The 5’6” brunette had had a long day of serving customers and making orders in her bakery-cafe hybrid known as Makoto’s Kitchen.  Her husband, Motoki Furuhata, had left the shop earlier in the evening, citing that there had been a family emergency with his sister Unazuki that he needed to attend to.  This had left Makoto all alone to finish the rest of the catering orders for the Hotel’s Labor Thanksgiving Day party that was to be celebrated in the upcoming weekend.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unable to get any sleep in the clinically sterile Mizunomics headquarters, Makoto found herself in its opulent kitchen.  She was heavily invested in cooking an incredibly tricky dish whose ancient techniques she had learned when she studied the secret culinary arts in the mountains of China from ancient magical chefs.  As much as she loved doing sets of increasingly harder reps at the gym, which had been graciously provided to her, feeling her muscles ache and scream with the pain of making herself stronger, Makoto loved challenging herself in the kitchen even more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Daunted by the hightech gastrology equipment that pervaded throughout the kitchen, Makoto found solace in doing her cooking old-school style.  The heat of the fire searing her toughened skin, the mixing scents of hot metal and spices, the sizzling food on her pan, and the crackling of the flames comforted her like a lullaby.  Sweat ran down her well muscled back and soaked her tank top.  Her ample bosom was held in check by a double layer of sports bras as she fought the weight and heat of her pan.  Cooking this dish took both strength and finesse; it was a challenge she always loved to tackle when she had an excruciatingly rough day.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unbeknownst to her as she deftly added the correct amount of spices and continued to stir at the proper speeds, completely entranced with cooking her dish, a certain blue-haired woman watched the shapely brunette on her 8k Ultra HD monitor.  Makoto was comforted by the joy of cooking, her own musical humming an accompaniment to the symphony of sounds and smells.  However, the only sounds that accompanied Ami Mizuno as she watched her live video feed of Makoto was the whir of her computers, the tiny blips and beeps of her android slaves, and the near silent whir of vibrations that was her remote controlled Hello Kitty 21X Personal Massager.  The young woman with the genius IQ couldn’t take her eyes off of Makoto.  She hungrily watched the brunette as Makoto’s muscles strained under the weight of the cast iron skillet as she continued to move it off and on the dangerous fire.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto grinned triumphantly as she put the finishing touches on her dish.  She was very much pleased with herself at her success and began the process of packing up the dish as lunches for herself and Motoki for tomorrow.  Once that was done, she cleaned up her work station, put the bento boxes filled with Love into the fridge for tomorrow, and headed back to the wing of the building she lived in with Motoki.  Entering the bathing chamber and locking the door behind her, Makoto began to undress.  She peeled off her dark green, sweat soaked tank top with a noise of disgust, putting it into the hamper.  Then she peeled off her silver, workout booty shorts and disposed of those as well.  She caught herself in the reflection of the full length mirror of the shower room antechamber and preened a bit, looking at herself this way and that.  She made a cutesy face and laughed, embarrassed for thinking she could look like one of those petite, fashionable, lolita type girls.  She flexed her arms and her back, appreciating the hard work that goes into keeping her body so fit and strong.  Ami also appreciated the view and bit her lip as she watched Makoto remove the first of her two sports bras.  A strangled noise escaped Ami as she sped up her Hello Kitty, watching as Makoto removed her final bra.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto let out a happy sigh of relief.  Having had the most Talent since she had been in middle school, her bosom had continued to grow up until she was in her early 20s.  Although she was in her mid 40s now, she still appeared to be 25, thanks to the tremendous slow aging powers of being a Sailor Guardian.  Makoto massaged her aching, heavy breasts for a moment, so as to ease their pain from having been cooped up all day.  She couldn’t help but let out a small moan as she gripped her pillowy breasts.  Squeezing them.  Massaging them.  She ignored her slowly hardening nipples as she focused on massaging the hard worked muscle that lay beneath her chest.  After a moment, she felt better.  Ami did as well and made a note to herself to get a deep cleaning for her chair.  Makoto slipped off her black hip hugger panties, tossing them into the hamper, and made her way into the bathing room.  She turned on the water of the shower and as she waited for it to get to the set temperature, she undid her ponytail.  Her wavy, auburn hair cascaded down her back as she put her favorite hair tie on her wrist.  She looked at herself in the small mirror on the wall and smiled at the rare view of her with her hair down.  Makoto stepped into the stream of water and let out a happy sigh as the heat of the water hit her flesh.  She stood still in the stream, relishing as it flowed down her supple, taught body. &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
After a bit, she began the process of washing her hair and cleaning her body.  Ami watched eagerly as Makoto cleansed herself, wishing she could be the one to wash Makoto’s back, front, and her most secret of places.  Ami suddenly began to swear in a variety of languages as she realized the one camera in the bathroom began to fog up.  She tried all manner of fixing it from her end but it was to no avail.  Disgusted with her bad planning, she left her desk to start tinkering with a better camera set up.  Makoto finished up her rinsing rather quickly and turned off the shower.  Stepping out of the room for the moment, she grabbed her head towel and wrapped her long, wet hair up, freeing it from having been plastered onto her body.  She eyed the soaking tub with its steamy hot water for a moment and then shook her head forlornly.  She knew it was far too late in the night for her to soak for an hour and she didn’t want to endanger herself by falling asleep in the tub.  Makoto dried off her body with another towel and then, once dry and squeaky clean, she put on her bathrobe and made her way into the bedroom she shared with Motoki.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Doing her best to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake him, which she really shouldn’t have bothered with since he was such a heavy sleeper, Makoto fumbled in the darkness of the room to change into her sleepwear.  Hanging up her wet towels on the hook on the back of their bedroom door, Makoto brushed out her damp hair and then put it in a light bun so it wouldn’t get so tangled whilst she slept.  Rifling through the drawers of her dresser, she pulled out a pair of gray, silk pajama shorts and a well worn, loose, pink and white striped tank top.  Makoto padded over to the queen sized bed where Motoki, clad in his hibiscus and turtle patterned pajamas and clutching his Kamekichi-kun plushie, was already sound asleep.  Lifting up the woolen coverlet and the fleece sheets, Makoto slipped in beside her husband.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Laying down on her back in the soft, plush bed, Makoto let out a small sigh as she looked over at her husband.  ‘I wish he would hold me as tightly as he does that turtle,’ she thought bitterly to herself.  She reached out and lightly stroked Motoki’s messy blond hair.  His only response was to murmur something about ''schildkröten'', whatever that was, and curl up with his plush even tighter; like a child.  Makoto sighed again, feeling a little bit of frustration welling up inside of her once more as she gazed at the sparsely furnished room, dimly lit by the moonlight streaming through the curtains.  She had done her best to bring in a few potted houseplants and some tchotchkes and knicknacks here and there to liven up the clinically sparse room but it just wasn’t the same.  She missed the home she had shared with Motoki.  It had been her first, real, home.  She had paid for it all by herself.  It was different from the apartment she had lived in when she was younger, paid for by the inheritance she had received after her parents had tragically died in that plane crash.  Makoto tried to persuade herself for the thousandth time that moving in with Ami was best for Motoki to deal with his crippling fauna addiction.  Ami had promised her that she would do all in her power to help him overcome his repulsive hobbies and Makoto believed her.  She had felt like she had hit rock bottom, that time she had found Motoki in the 150 year old tortoise enclosure at the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Turning onto her side, her back facing her husband, Makoto did her best to clear her mind of any turmoil and distracting thoughts.  She did her counting exercises to bring her back to her usual, zenlike calm, and closed her eyes.  After a long while, Makoto finally found herself drifting off into a deep slumber.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto finds herself in a peaceful forest clad in a simple, light, white, flowing dress.  The sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the chirping and whistling of birds, the ''crickcrack''of little mammals eating nuts, and the gurgling of the creek nearby calms her.  She is at peace in this tranquil, quiet forest, devoid of any human life but her own as she wanders through it, barefoot.  She feels as one with nature as she could possibly be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto sits on a boulder in the middle of a raging river.  The roar of the waterfall behind her fills her ears.  She is a well of peace in such a turbulent life as the water and wind rush by.  She is calm in the face of hardship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto runs up the steep mountain path.  Her breath heavy, sweat trickling down her forehead, her lungs aching, she continues to push herself to reach the top.  Rounding the final bend of the sparsely traverse running path, she comes to the hilltop clearing.  Slowing her pace to a slow walk so as to not cramp up, she walks towards the edge of the cliff to gaze down at the enthralling view of the forest below.&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;br /&gt;
“The view is amazing from up here, isn’t it?” a voice softly asks from nearby.  Makoto jumps with a start and turns to see none other than Haruka Tenou sitting on a flat outcropping of rock.  Bewildered, Makoto asks, “W-what are you doing up here?”  Haruka turns to Makoto with a soft smile on her handsome face and responds, “I often come up here to take in the view.  I feel as close to the sky as I could possibly be.”  Haruka untangles her long legs from her seated position and stands.  She’s wearing nearabouts the same kind of running clothes as Makoto, though Haruka’s seem to be just a bit more… expensive.  Makoto turns from Haruka, accepting that even famous celebrities want their solace from time to time, and gazes out at the expansive forest below.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Haruka quietly asks as she walks up to stand beside Makoto.  Makoto nods, responding in awed tones, “It’s absolutely beautiful.  I could gaze at this all day.”  Haruka chuckles to herself and says, “I wasn’t talking about the forest, Makoto.” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto’s eyes open wide as she hears what Haruka just said.  She turns to see Haruka gazing directly at her, blue-green eyes meeting deep green ones.  A faint blush works its way onto Makoto’s creamy cheeks as she gulps, taken aback by how close Haruka is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto stands in the middle of Eudial’s Mountaintop Training Camp dojo, clad in her judo gi.  Before her is the similarly garbed Haruka, ready in a fighting stance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They battle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto is swiftly taken down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her friends quickly come to her side to defend her.  Nothing hurts worse than her pride.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka stalks away, as if she has better things to do with her time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto can’t let go of this feeling of anger and disappointment within her.  Her friends do their best to cheer her up.  A trip to the onsen, a fancy meal at the inn, and nighttime games to try and take Makoto’s mind off of her loss.  Makoto appreciates their attempts and tells them she’s fine, feeling better than ever.  They believe her words and, one by one, drift off to sleep, leaving Makoto alone with her frustration.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unable to sleep, she quietly gets up and changes back from her pajamas into her training gi.  Sliding open the door, she quietly shuts it behind her as she ventures into the deep night of the training camp.  She decides to go for a run around the edge of the lake, her only light coming from the full moon and twinkling stars.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Breathing in the nighttime air, fresh and clean with the scent of pine and earth, Makoto begins to feel her heart relax.  The movement of her body as she runs falls into a rhythmic nature.  She finally starts to feel at peace as she continues her run, plodding along barefoot on the well worn, grassy riverbank.  Her mind begins to clear as she finally let her frustrations ebb.  As she continues onward, going out of sight of the main camp as the curve of the lake takes her out of its view, she begins to hear a noise other than her heavy breathing and the soft padding of her feet on the cold earth.  The noises start to become a bit clearer as she gets closer to whatever is making it.  Grunts and soft thuds.  At first she thinks it might have been an animal of some kind and her fear spikes but, as she gets closer to it, she realizes it is human made.  ‘I guess someone else can’t sleep,’ she thinks to herself as her path opens onto a small clearing.  She sees the figure in the middle of the clearing as she comes closer and she stops.  Once again, standing before her is Haruka Tenou.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anger spikes in Makoto as she clearly makes out the taller woman lit by the moonlight.  ‘Hey,’ she calls out not all that softly. Haruka, clad in the same training gi as Makoto, jumps, startled, and is thrown off of the pattern of her kata.  She stumbles for a moment but doesn’t fall.  Makoto would have smiled to see the cool and suave Haruka off her game at any other time but right now she is too angry and frustrated.  Haruka asks in a commanding voice, “Who’s there?” as she quickly regains her composure.  Makoto quickly stalks over to Haruka, hands clenched into fists.  A look of realization flies onto Haruka’s face as she makes out Makoto’s advancing form once the brunette steps out of the shade of the forest and into the moonlight.  As Makoto arrives in front of a bewildered Haruka, she glares up at the slightly taller woman and says, demandingly, “I want a rematch.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka blinks in surprise and quietly asks, “Right now?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto nods, her green eyes filled with determination.  “Now.  I won’t let you use that cheap move on me again.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka’s expression is unreadable as she looks over the clearly upset Makoto.  She takes in Makoto’s disheveled appearance, her cheeks flushed, her emerald green eyes sparkling with anger, her chest heaving with indignation.  ‘She really needs this,’ Haruka thinks to herself, startled by how much she actually wants to help the younger girl.  Haruka nods and responds with a simple and quiet, “Alright.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The two face off once in the clearing.  Just the two of them in the moonlit night, a cool breeze with the scent of pine sap wafting over them.  Makoto feels clear headed, at ease like never before.  Anticipation for the fight begins to build deep beneath her breastbone and she grins, determination filling her.  She shakes out her arms and legs as Haruka stretches.  No one else around for miles, Makoto feels perfectly at ease.  Getting into a fighting stance, she waits for Haruka to be ready.  Haruka takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out and looks over at Makoto.  Getting into a fighting stance of her own, Haruka nods, and as a nearby owl takes off in flight, their fight begins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka tries to end the fight as soon as it begins, using the same move she had used earlier that day.  Makoto sneers, seeing it coming a mile away, and easily deflects it, moving out of Haruka’s grasp.  ‘How predictable,’ she thinks to herself as she counters with her own move but that is swiftly blocked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They begin to trade blows, easily blocking another’s punches and kicks, countering with their own quick moves, each of them trying to gain the upper hand.  They are evenly matched.  Makoto feels the thrill of the fight consume her down to her core.  She thrives in the exertion of trying to best Haruka and yet still not finding a good opening.  ‘Finally,’ Makoto thinks to herself as she ducks Haruka’s roundhouse kick, dodging to the side, ‘I’m fighting with someone who actually knows what they’re doing.’  Training with the girls was well enough but they never took it as seriously as she did.  They didn’t love the training, the fighting.  It was like second nature to Makoto and she loved every second of this match with Haruka.  This is what she was born to do: To fight.  To protect the ones she loves.  Makoto clips Haruka’s cheekbone with her fist.  Haruka manages to get in a good kidney shot.  They’re clearly starting to tire as sweat streaks down their bodies, chest heaving from exertion.  Makoto wipes her forehead and growls.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
‘Enough with the niceties,’ Makoto thinks to herself as she suddenly rushes forward, getting in under Haruka’s reach.  Bending low, Makoto wraps her arms around Haruka’s thighs, grabbing hold of her tightly, and lifting her up. ‘Time to get dirty,’  she thinks, gritting her teeth at the effort to hold onto the surprised, struggling woman.  Haruka lets out a surprised “Shit!” before being slammed onto the ground.  Haruka grunts at the impact, losing her breath as she lays there, dazed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Panting from the effort it took to bring Haruka down, Makoto rests for a moment on top of the blonde.  Makoto hears Haruka’s groan and she blushes when she realizes the compromised position she’s in.  “H-haruka, I’m so sorry,” Makoto stammers out as she struggles to sit up, removing her face from the vicinity of Haruka’s crotch.  Haruka manages to prop herself up on her elbows and she gives Makoto a lopsided grin, an odd light in her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto pauses in trying to stand and looks up at Haruka.  “Y-yes?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka, sitting up, grins that silly grin again.  Makoto blushes at the closeness between them.  “You did really well,” Haruka says coyly, “but you forgot one thing.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto blinks.  “What did I forget?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Never let your guard down.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly, Haruka reaches out, grabbing Makoto by the front of her training gi, digging in so that she even grabs Makoto’s sports bra.   With a smooth, brisk movement, as Makoto lets out an “Eep!” of surprise, Haruka draws Makoto down towards her.  A quick twist and turn later and Makoto finds herself pinned beneath Haruka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto stares up at Haruka, absolutely flustered.  “H-hey, waitaminute,” Makoto says breathlessly.  Haruka holds onto Makoto’s wrists, pulling the prone woman’s hands far out on either side of her.  Makoto tries to tug out of her hold but to no avail; Haruka has her in her grasp.  Haruka grins again, a dangerous glint in her eyes, as she bares down on Makoto, sliding one leg up between Makoto’s legs to make contact with her crotch.  Makoto gasps, her breath hitching in her throat.  She stares up at Haruka, eyes wide, face beet red.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka presses down onto Makoto, feeling the younger woman’s taut body, her soft breasts, molding themselves to her.  Makoto’s body begins to tremble.  Whether it’s in exhaustion, anticipation, excitement, or fear, she isn’t sure.  She closes her eyes and shivers as she feels Haruka’s devilish chuckle near her ear.  A soft cry rings out in the stillness of the night as Haruka bites down on Makoto’s breast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto had been having a rough day.  Walking home from school, she and Usagi nearly got run over by Haruka’s wild motorcycling.  In protecting Usagi, Makoto had gotten hurt.  Her hand, which she uses in cooking and baking and sewing and fighting and countless other things had been damaged.  Haruka had been gracious enough to tie her scarf around Makoto’s wound as a makeshift bandage.  Having Sailor Guardian healing factor meant that she wouldn’t have needed a bandage, of course, but she had to pretend to be a regular human and accept Haruka’s kind offer to help.  She had been taken aback by Haruka’s closeness at the time, her heart skipping a beat.  Usagi had eyed Makoto’s reaction suspiciously but Makoto had just brushed it off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later that evening, alone in her apartment as usual, Makoto is in the middle of changing out of her school uniform.  Having already taken off her schoolgirl top, she works on taking off the scarf to see if her wound has healed.  As she expects, there is nary a bruise nor a scar to show that she had been injured.  Makoto realizes that the scarf has a scent, Haruka’s scent, still lingering.  She breathes it in and blushes deeply at doing such a perverted act.  She bites her lip as she’s filled with a sudden, unexpected desire.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Going to bed later that night, she doesn’t feel so alone as she imagines the older woman beside her on her bed.  Touching her.  Teasing her.  Kissing her.  Fucking her.  Makoto muffles her moans into the scarf as she imagines that Haruka is the one pleasing her that night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next morning, after washing and drying Haruka’s scarf, since she had dirtied it during the night, Makoto accompanies Usagi and Ami on their walk to school.  With Usagi’s suspicious questioning about why Makoto wants to know where Haruka lives, Makoto doesn’t fully focus on holding it as tightly as she can and it’s blown away in the wind.  “No!  That’s my excuse to see Haruka!” she cries out as she chases after it into the nearby school employee parking lot.  Thinking she’s found it, she gets attacked by a daimon instead!  Makoto freaks the hell out and backs away.  Thankfully, Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury immediately arrive to thwart the daimon’s attempts to steal Makoto’s pure heart crystal, though the daimon escapes, rather than staying around to be killed.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As if being attacked wasn’t bad enough, Makoto fails her pop quiz in math class.  Her mood continues to sour throughout the day and as school finally ends, she’s in the foulest of tempers.  After school she tries her best to find the lost scarf and is dejected that she can’t seem to find it anywhere.  Usagi’s persistent accusations of Makoto being interested in someone who already has a girlfriend bothers her deep down.  She does her best to brush off Usagi’s words, lying that she doesn’t feel “that way” about Haruka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They come to a crosswalk.  As they wait for the light to turn so they can cross the street, a yellow convertible sports car pulls to a stop in front of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hey!”  Haruka calls out, a handsome smile on her face.  “Nice to see you again.  You’re looking better than ever.”  Makoto blushes, realizing that Haruka’s actually complimenting &lt;br /&gt;
''her''.  She stammers out a small “H-hello.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hiya Haruka!” Usagi calls out a bit too loudly for societal norms’ sake.  “We were just talking about you!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh?”  Haruka raises an eyebrow, grinning.  “Were you, now?  All good things, I hope.”  She chuckles that smooth, husky chuckle again.  Makoto feels her heart skip a beat, just like it had done before.  “Of course!”  Usagi replied energetically, oblivious to Makoto’s reaction to Haruka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka turns to Makoto and pointedly asks her, “If you’re not doing anything right now, would you wanna come along for a ride?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Uhm, with me?”  She gulps before nodding enthusiastically, an emphatic “Sure!” bursting from her lips.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Usagi watches as Makoto goes to the front passenger door, opening it, before collecting herself and saying anxiously, “Wait, Mako!!  I really don’t think this is a good idea!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka smiles a warm smile at Makoto slides into the seat next to her.  She turns back to Usagi, grinning, and asks, “Oh?  You think it’s wrong for girls to go out on a drive together?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She revs the engine, drowning out Usagi’s response.  As soon as Makoto buckles her seatbelt, the two of them take off, leaving Usagi to choke on Haruka’s exhaust.  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Usagi says sourly at the quickly receding car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wind tears at Makoto’s long, billowing brown hair, as they speed down the secluded road.  The setting sun glimmers off of the water of Tokyo Bay as classical piano music can barely be heard over the roar of both the wind and the car engine.   Gazing off into the distance at the dreamy water before her, Makoto snaps out of her reverie as Haruka’s hand brushes her bare, well toned thigh; her brown schoolgirl skirt has been hiked up from the wind.  Makoto whirls to look at Haruka, her heart leaping into the back of her throat to get stuck there.  Haruka chuckles huskily, her eyes glinting with mirth, as she apologies.  “Sorry about that.  I missed my stick shift.”  The grin on her face as she grabs hold onto her stick shift to change gears, and the coy tone in her voice, makes Makoto think that it hadn’t been an accident at all.  Makoto bites her lip, feeling anxious.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka slows down to park in a secluded area of Kaiozu Park.  She turns off the car as they unbuckle their seatbelts and the two of them gaze out at the golden hued water before them.  Makoto stares at the beautiful scene, feeling peaceful.  She sees movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to see Haruka looking at her.  Her heart speeds up as their eyes lock on one another's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Haruka?” she asks,  “What is i--mmf!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto’s brain melts away as Haruka kisses her.  All she can pay attention to is the feeling of Haruka’s soft, hungry lips on her own.  She is enveloped by Haruka’s scent of clean linen and jasmine as a soft moan threatens to escape from the back of her throat.  When Haruka touches her bare skin beneath her schoolgirl blouse, Makoto feels like she’s been electrified.  A shiver of excitement rushes through her body, her nipples hardening at the warm, strong, callused hand on her waist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto moans into Haruka’s increasingly needy kisses.  She finds herself clinging to Haruka’s blazer with one hand, the other reaching up to wrap around Haruka’s neck, trying to draw her even closer.  Makoto lets out a ''very'' cute gasp, breaking their kiss, as Haruka moves her hand upwards to grasp Makoto’s breast, squeezing it lightly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka’s voice is hoarse, if not a bit strained, as she chuckles in Makoto’s ear.  “You’ve been keeping quite the secret from me, haven’t you,” she says dangerously.  She pinches Makoto’s hardened nipple, causing the girl to cry out and cling to Haruka even tighter. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I don’t..” Makoto shudders as Haruka grips her breast tightly, “I don’t know what you mean,” she manages to gasp out.  Her head is a whirlwind of nothing but emotion.  The ache in her loins is painfully obvious as she does her best to try and look Haruka in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka is taken aback momentarily at the sight of the flushed, lust filled Makoto gazing at her in such a pleading manner.  She licks her lips, quickly collecting herself.  She grins but before she can respond, a loud crash resounds from the hood of her car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto shrieks as the daimon leers at them from the crushed hood of Haruka’s car.  “My car!!” Haruka cries out, all thoughts of leading Makoto on flying out of her head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The daimon quickly reaches down and tightly grabs onto Makoto by the front of her school uniform, lifting her up out of the car.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Makoto!!” Haruka cries out as she jumps up to try and pull Makoto free of the daimon’s hold.  Haruka is swiftly backhanded and goes flying into the bushes at the edge of the parking lot.  “Haruka!” Makoto cries out, worried for her friend’s safety rather than her own.  With quick thinking, she manages to click the emergency homing beacon on her communicator, alerting the others of her whereabouts, before &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The daimon wraps Makoto in the fabric of her red dress, completely and utterly immobilizing her.  The creature rips open her top, revealing the black star on her breast, and the dark energy hits Makoto like a bullet train.  In what feels like an eternity, but is only a matter of moments, Makoto is violated by the monster and her pure heart crystal is stolen.  All alone and unable to defend herself, the pain is worse than anything she has ever felt.  It’s worse than the time she actually died at D Point.  At least then she had the endorphins of being victorious to ease her suffering as she had passed away.  Now, feeling utterly broken and useless, a gaping hole is left in her soul as she’s dropped onto the asphalt like a discarded apple core.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Barely conscious of what’s going on around her, she sees Sailor Uranus fighting the daimon on her own, taking her heart crystal from the monster.  ‘She was waiting… just so she could get my pure heart.’  She struggled to breathe.  ‘Did she just stand by and watch while Haruka and I were attacked?’   ‘Damn her…’’  Her thoughts didn’t seem to make much sense as tears stream down her face.  ‘I’ll never forgive her...for this…’&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The rest of the Sailor Guardians arrive and distract the daimon for the moment.  Sailor Moon pleads with Sailor Uranus to return the girl’s heart crystal to her.  A sense of guilty relief floods Sailor Uranus as she realizes that Makoto’s crystal doesn’t have a talisman.  She tosses the crystal back to Sailor Moon before dodging another attack by the daimon.  ‘I need to get out of here,’ she thinks as she hastily blocks an attack, ‘these girls can handle this on their own.’&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto comes back to full consciousness as Sailor Moon returns her heart crystal to her.  Anger fuels her and rather than resting from her traumatic ordeal, Makoto transforms into Sailor Jupiter and joins the fight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The rest of the fight passes by in a blur until, finally, Sailor Moon defeats the daimon once and for all.  Angered by Sailor Uranus’ apathetic treatment of her, Sailor Jupiter rushes at her in an attack, her emotions getting the better of her.  Taken momentarily by surprise, Sailor Uranus manages to deflect Sailor Jupiter’s punch and counters with a strong blow to her solar plexus.  Sailor Jupiter drops to the ground, the wind knocked out of her, as her friends crowd around her to make sure she’s okay.  Sailor Uranus quickly leaves the scene of their fight, rushing back to where she had been thrown in her civilian form.  She holds her hand as she de-transforms, hissing in pain.  ‘She’s strong,’ Haruka thinks to herself as she lays down on the ground, mussing up her clothes and hair with her good hand.  ‘I need to watch out for her in the future.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sailor Jupiter tells her friends that she’s okay.  “Really, I’m fine.  Seriously.  Go on and I’ll call you later, okay?” The girls nod in understanding and head out.  Sailor Jupiter rushes over to where she saw Haruka fly off into the shrubbery and destransforms.  She comes across the seemingly unconscious Haruka and her heart squeezes in dismay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Haruka!” she cries out softly, her voice filled with worry as she kneels down beside the older woman.  Haruka pretends to come to with a groan.  “Makoto?” she groggily asks and turns to sit up.  As Haruka looks at Makoto, lit by the setting sun, Haruka goes speechless.  Makoto’s tear filled eyes sparkle like the stars in the night sky.  With a quiet sob of relief, Makoto flings herself at Haruka, hugging the taller girl tightly about her waist, nearly knocking the two of them to the ground.  She says simply, as a way of explanation, “The Sailor Guardians saved me.  I thought… I thought the worst had happened to you,” she cries as she clings to Haruka tightly.  Haruka gulps.  At first, Haruka had only been toying with the younger girl.  Now, however, as Haruka feels Makoto’s warm, soft body pressed tightly against her, she feels at a loss as to what to do.  The brunette trembles in Haruka’s arms as she tries not to let the tears of relief fall down her cheeks.  Haruka finds herself breathing in Makoto’s scent of spices, damp earth, exotic flowers and it’s all too much for her to handle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka wraps her arms tightly around Makoto, wishing that this moment would never end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After Makoto’s trembling subsides, she tries to pull away.  Haruka squeezes Makoto tighter to her, pressing their bodies, their breasts, every inch of them, together.  Makoto lets out a soft gasp at the tightness.  Haruka blushes faintly, realizing she had been squeezing too hard, and loosens her grip.  Makoto leans back just a bit, though not enough to escape Haruka’s warm and comforting hold on her, and looks up at her, face blushing at their closeness.  She reaches up to gently move Haruka’s bangs out of her eyes.  As Haruka reaches up to take Makoto’s hand in hers, kissing her palm, Makoto gasps.  “You’re hurt!” she exclaims as she takes Haruka’s hand in both of her own.  Haruka pretends to wince from the pain and says, “I’ll be alright.  Don’t you worry about me.”  Makoto gives Haruka a stern look as she pulls something from the pocket of her skirt, “I could never not worry about you,” she says definitively.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With much practiced ease, Makoto bandages Haruka’s wrist with Haruka’s own scarf.  “Oy, that’s my scarf!”  Makoto, blushing, sheepishly responds with, “I have been meaning to give it back to you for a couple of days now…”  She bites her lip, looking up at Haruka once more, a confident look in her eyes, and says, “Really, I just wanted to see you again.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka grins a lopsided grin, feeling her heart skip a beat.  She reaches up, cupping the back of Makoto’s neck in her hand, and says, “And I’ve been wanting to get to know you better as well.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto’s heart pounds in her chest, her face flushing as she closes her eyes, seeing Haruka lean down towards her.  As their lips meet once again in the sweetest of kisses, Haruka begins to lean Makoto down onto the ground.  Makoto finds herself clinging to Haruka's school jacket as their kissing intensifies.  As Haruka leaves a trail of kisses from Makoto's lips, down her long, slender neck, past her collarbone, Haruka’s cellphone rings in her pocket.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The two break apart like scalded cats at the sudden interruption of the quiet twilight evening.  Haruka smiles an apologetic smile as she sits up and gets to her feet, taking out her phone.  “Sorry.  I’ve gotta take this.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As Makoto tries to calm her beating heart, she hears Haruka answer the phone.  “Hey, Michiru,” Haruka says as she walks towards her mildly damaged car.  “You wouldn’t believe what happened to my car!”  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto’s heart sinks to the pit of her stomach as she gets to her feet, brushing off her skirt, feeling ashamed.  ‘What was I thinking?’  Makoto thinks as she gazes forlornly at Haruka leaning on the side of her car, her heart tearing in two.  ‘She has a girlfriend…’&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The Protectress of Jupiter, the Guardian of Courage and Protection, Sailor Jupiter, gazes through the stained glass window that depicts the ascension of Neo Queen Serenity.  Down below, she watches the mass of tourists thronging to buy the latest Limited Editon Super Max Ultra Rare Sailor Guardian NAUGHTY collectible blind boxes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She shakes her head, feeling sick to her stomach.  She can't take it anymore.  She wants to, needs to, go back to a simpler time.  As she turns her back to the carnage below, a stoic, glowing figure stands before her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Blue-green eyes filled with love, golden blonde hair shining with a soft light, their warm, strong, callused hand outstretched towards her.  As Sailor Jupiter reaches out to grab Sailor Uranus's hand, she blinks, and the image is gone, leaving her alone in the suffocatingly sterile room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto is holding a piping bag filled with pink and orange buttercream.  She smiles as she focuses on putting the finishing floral touches on her Grand Opening cake.  She steps back to admire the gorgeous, multi-tiered cake in front of her, proud of all of the hard work she’s put into creating it.  She’s pleased with how it has turned out, ready just in time for tomorrow’s first day of being open to the public.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The chime of the entry door being opened catches her attention.  “Ah!  Sorry, we’re closed right now!” she calls out from the kitchen in the back of her hybrid bakery-cafe shop and makes her way to the front, saying, “We won’t be opening until tomorrow, so please come again then.”  She stops short with a small, “Oh!” as she sees who’s entered her business.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A very handsome Haruka clad in a navy blue blazer jacket, a white button down shirt, tight, navy blue pants, and black shoes, stands there, one hand hidden behind her back.  “Hey,” Haruka says, greeting her warmly.  She pulls out a bouquet of roses and sasanqua camellias from behind her back and presents it to Makoto.  “Congratulations.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto blushes at seeing the beautiful bouquet of flowers.  As she reaches out to take the bouquet from Haruka, she looks up at her and asks, “How did you know these camellias are my favorite?”  Haruka grins, loftily responding, “I have my ways,” and winks at her.  Makoto smiles the brightest of smiles and goes to get a vase for her new flowers.  “Please, make yourself comfortable!” she suggests to Haruka brightly.  Taking a vase out of one of her high cabinets, she fills it with water, and brings it over to the side counter of the shop.  She places the vase there and starts arranging the bouquet just perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka walks over to Makoto as she busies herself with the floral arrangement and quietly tells her, “You’re the prettiest flower here, Makoto.”  Makoto looks up at Haruka, startled by her words.  She flushes as she sees just how close Haruka is standing next to her, the heat off of the taller woman’s body is palpable.  Makoto’s heart starts to beat faster as Haruka leans down to her.  The brunette quickly turns and flees towards the kitchen.  “I’ll get you something to eat and drink as a thank you, okay?” she says, trying to calm herself down in the solitude of her kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka chuckles and asks if Makoto’s got any beer.  When Makoto responds that she does, saying she’ll bring her a can, Haruka nods and shucks off her jacket, placing it on the chair of one of the cafe tables.  She rolls up the sleeves of her button down shirt and looks about her.  She smiles as she sees the floral decor of the shop.  Little plants and cute, decorative items line the shelves and tables and dangling fairy lights.  It has a very cute and homey feel that is all Makoto Kino.&lt;br /&gt;
  &lt;br /&gt;
After taking off her apron, freeing her ample bosom from their confines, Makoto returns with two cans of Yebisu beer and two slices of her favorite cherry pie.  She had originally wanted to give it to Motoki but she had ended up burning half of it in the oven.  She managed to salvage the edible parts, not wanting to attempt to sell a less than perfect pastry to her customers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka can’t help but enjoy the view of Makoto walking towards her in her form fitting t-shirt dress.  Makoto is oblivious to the appraising look Haruka gives her as she sets the beer and pie down on the table.  Makoto’s white dress with its blue, floral damask pattern, shows off her curves very nicely.  Her buxom chest strains at the tight fabric as the hem of the dress hangs midway down her thighs, showing off her long, well toned legs.  Haruka is momentarily taken aback by just how sexy Makoto looks in the rosy, dim light of the night time cafe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Opening the cans of beer, they toast to Makoto’s future as a small business owner.  Makoto laughs happily, pleased at Haruka’s words, and they begin to talk of simple things like love, work, their past, and even pro wrestling.  Makoto responds that she’s seen a bit of pro wrestling here and there but she prefers actually doing the fighting instead of merely watching it.  Haruka jokingly suggests they should have another sparring match sometime and Makoto laughs at the memory from so many years ago.  There’s a rosy glow to Makoto’s face as she finishes off her can of beer, nearly choking on her drink at the funny story Haruka tells her about what Jedite did to Helios this one time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe he did that!” Makoto exclaims, laughing so hard that tears leak out of her eyes.  Haruka finds herself staring, entranced by Makoto’s chest as it jiggles with every laugh.  She coughs and says, “This was absolutely delicious, Makoto.  Thanks so much.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto grins happily and gets to her feet.  “I’m so glad you like it!  It’s one of my favorite recipes to make.”  She begins to gather their dirty plates, forks, and empty beer cans and says, “I absolutely adore cherry pie.”  Haruka stands as well and says, “Oh, hey, let me help you with that.”  Makoto shakes her head, smiling gratefully at Haruka and responds, “No, it’s alright, I can take care of it myself.”  She turns and heads back to the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka licks her lips as she watches Makoto’s retreading form, her backside barely hidden by the hem of the dress.  She finds herself quickly following Makoto into the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto notices Haruka entering her homey kitchen and she smiles at her.  She tosses the cans into the recycling before beginning to wash the cutlery and plates.  Haruka watches her, leaning on the counter.  “Seriously, Makoto, this is an amazing kitchen.  I don’t even know what most of those utensils are for.”  She straightens a bit, hands resting in the pockets of her pants and jokingly says, “I’m a pro at the microwave, though.”  Makoto laughs lightly and says, “I could always come over one day to teach you how to cook, if you’d like.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka grins.  “I would like that very much,” she says as she steps over to her.  As Makoto works on washing the last plate, Haruka softly says, “You know something?”  “Hm?” was Makoto’s distracted reply, focused as she was on cleaning.  “You are the most beautiful and Talented woman I’ve ever known.  Whoever marries you would be luckier than winning the jackpot.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto fumbles the soapy, slippery dish, startled by Haruka’s words.  As she catches the plate, the angle in which she holds it causes the torrent of water from the faucet to bounce off of it and blast her square in the face.  She yelps, dropping the dish into sink, and steps back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Immediately, Haruka turns off the water and grabs a nearby towel.  Standing closely beside her, Haruka grins at the view of the soaked Makoto before handing her the towel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto, blushing in embarrassment, offers a muffled word of thanks as she begins wiping her face with the towel in an attempt to dry herself off.  “I’m usually not so clumsy,” she mutters.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“You missed a spot,” Haruka responds with a wicked tone in her voice.  When Makoto looks questioningly at her, Haruka looks pointedly downwards.  Makoto looks and finally notices that her white dress had been soaked through, revealing the rose patterned brassiere that her breasts tried to escape.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She blushes beet red and turns away to hide the view of her pillowy breasts but is stopped as Haruka gently reaches out and lightly grasps Makoto’s wrist, turning her back towards her.  “I’ll take care of that for you,” Haruka tells her, her voice husky and smooth, and takes the towel out of Makoto’s weak grasp.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto feels as though she can’t breathe.  She can feel the heat between them as Haruka stands mere inches from her.  Her cool, wet skin tingles beneath Haruka’s hot, predatory gaze.  A shiver runs through her like a bolt of electricity.  Makoto finds herself unable, not wanting, to get away from the situation she finds herself in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka begins to, ever so slowly, rub Makoto’s chest with the towel.  She very much notices the evident hardening of Makoto’s nipples through her wet layers of fabric.  Makoto’s breath hitches for a moment and she closes her eyes.  Her face flushing with both embarrassment and excitement, as her breathing gets more haggard.  Her knees start to tremble.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka softly whispers, a bit of hoarseness in her voice, “This just won’t do, Makoto.  You’re going to have to take this whole thing off before you catch a cold.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto’s eyes fly open, widening in surprise.  Haruka locks her gaze with Makoto’s and smiles the sexiest smile in all of mankind.  Makoto whimpers, longing filling every note, as her green eyes sparkle with want.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka leans down, closing her eyes, and kisses her.  Makoto nearly falls as her knees give way.  Thankfully, Haruka is quick to wrap one arm around Makoto’s waist and the other around her lower back, pulling her towards her, keeping her upright.  Makoto positively melts as a small moan escapes her, her lips trapped in the sweetest of kisses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A small grunt of surprise is emitted from the back of Haruka’s throat as she presses Makoto's body to her.  Makoto’s dress deceives just how large and soft her breasts are and Haruka is very pleased by how well the tall, muscled, buxom woman molds against her body.  She begins to greedily, hungrily devour Makoto’s mouth with increasingly fervent kisses, their tongues dancing in a tango for two.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After a long moment of passionate, steamy kisses, Makoto finally pulls away to gasp for air.  Her chest heaves, her wet breasts still pressed against Haruka.  Haruka chuckles as she looks down to where their bodies are pressed so well against one another’s.  Her shirt has become as thoroughly soaked as Makoto’s.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Looks like we both need to change now.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka comes back from the store and immediately smells the aroma of Makoto’s good cooking.  “I’m home,” she calls out as changes her outdoor shoes for her inside slippers.  “Oh good!”  Makoto responds from the kitchen, “Dinner is almost ready!”  Making her way to the kitchen, Haruka says, “I picked up your favorite ice cream, too!”  She pushes open the door to the kitchen as Makoto responds, “You can have some cherry pie ala mode, then!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka stops dead in the doorway of the kitchen, dropping the bag of groceries to the floor.  The sight of Makoto wearing only the skimpiest of aprons is too much for Haruka to handle.  Makoto grins, clearly enjoying the effect she’s having on Haruka.  To Makoto’s utter delight, Haruka growls, saying, “I want my cherry pie now, damnit.”  Makoto squeals happily as Haruka rushes forward and picks her up. Haruka leans Makoto down on the dining room table, heedless of the uneaten dinner awaiting them, and spreads her legs open wide.  With a quick “Itadakimasu,” Haruka bends down, holding tightly onto Makoto’s shapely thighs, and begins to devour her dessert.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two naked bodies, wet and slick, rub against one another.  The stream of hot water from the shower head bounces off of Haruka’s broad, muscled back as she presses Makoto against the cool, tiled wall.  Her lips are locked onto Makoto’s, nibbling and sucking.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With one thigh raised to wrap around Haruka’s waist, Makoto clings tightly to her, her arms wrapped around her neck.  The steamy heat of the shower only seems to get more stifling as Haruka’s long, pianist fingers deftly thrust themselves deeply inside Makoto’s throbbing, aching love garden; her nectar pools out of her onto Haruka’s hand, mixing with the hot water of the shower.  Makoto breaks their kiss to gasp for air as her body begins to tremble, her moans of ecstacy getting more and more high pitched as her breathing quickens.  “Ha..Haruka,” Makoto cries out as her pleasure builds to its peak.  Haruka thrusts even deeper with three of her fingers, her thumb circling the wet, sensitive rosebud, as she bites down on Makoto’s neck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto cries out Haruka’s name over and over as her waves of pleasure start the crash through her, her cries of ecstasy echoing in the bathroom like a concert hall.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The moonlight streams through the window as Makoto squirms on the cool bedsheets.  Between Makoto’s shapely thighs, Haruka does her best to drink up as much of Makoto’s sweet, sticky nectar as she can.  Makoto’s cute, sweet, embarrassed gasps and moans are too much for Haruka to handle.  “Never stop being so cute,” Haruka tells her.  Makoto nods weakly, biting her knuckle with barely contained excitement as she watches Haruka stand up at the foot of the bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Earlier in the evening, Makoto had noticed something odd sticking out of Haruka’s satchel.  She had asked her what it was and Haruka pulled it out, revealing it to be a rather large strap-on dildo.  “It’s Mr. Frankenboner!” she had proudly exclaimed.  Makoto had eyed the thing and asked, incredulously, “Why do you have this on you?”  Haruka merely shrugged and had said, “Why not?  I take it everywhere.  You never know when you might need one.”  Makoto had simply stared at her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seemingly, Makoto needed it now.  Haruka cajoles Makoto into getting onto all fours as she works on lubing up the dildo.  Pulling Makoto to the edge of the bed, lightly pressing down on Makoto’s upper back, and raising up her ass high into the air, Haruka makes sure she had the perfect angle.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto makes a little noise as she quivers in anticipation.  Her exceptionally large breasts are squashed beneath her like a soft cushion as she tries to support herself on her forearms.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Are you ready?” Haruka asks in her soft, husky voice, thick with lust.  Makoto nods, letting out a soft, “Yes, Haruka.  Please give me Mr. Frankenboner.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka grins, loving hearing Makoto callung it that, and gently slides the dildo into Makoto’s waiting opening.  Makoto lets out a low moan as she’s filled with Mr. Frankenboner to the hilt.  “It’s too big,” she cries out, clutching at the sheets beneath her.  Haruka leans forward to kiss Makoto’s back.  She reaches underneath Makoto to grip her overflowing breast tightly in her hand.  She pulls Mr. Frankenboner out a bit and, as she pinches Makoto’s hardened nipple tightly, she harshly thrusts the dildo back in, causing Makoto’s squeak to turn into moan filled animalistic growl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka holds onto Makoto’s hip with her other hand, giving herself leverage as she begins to thrust faster and deeper.  Makoto’s soft, mewling cries are a symphony to Haruka’s ears.  ‘Kami-sama,’ Haruka thought as she tried to pace herself, ‘Who knew Makoto could sound so cute.’&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto cries out incoherently as she’s fucked senseless by Haruka.  All she can think about, all she can focus on, is how deeply she’s filled.  Her body trembles beneath Haruka’s rough handling of her, unable to take it any longer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka grins a sadistic grin, her own pleasure mounting.  She suddenly pulls Mr. Frankenboner out of Makoto so only its bulbous head remains inside of her.  Makoto lets out an anguished wail at Haruka stopping so suddenly.  She turns to look back at Haruka over her shoulder, her green eyes filled with nothing but lust, and asks pleadingly, “Why?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka reaches down to the base of Mr. Frankenboner and as she hits a cleverly concealed switch, the dildo starts to vibrate at an excruciatingly fast speed.&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto let’s out a surprised gasp as Haruka slams back into her.  She begins to babble incoherently as she loses all control; all she can think about is how good Haruka is making her feel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
***&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Haruka’s smiling face.  Haruka’s long, slender, pianist fingers.  Her warm, strong, callused hands so secure in everything they touch.  Her bright, handsome, mischievous Perfection Field smile.  Her boyishly cute, windswept, golden hair.  Her mysterious, dreamy blue-green eyes.  Her long body, well toned, each muscle sculpted to perfection.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A soft cry pierces through the stillness of the deep, dark, night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ami stirred in her sleep beneath her computer desk, having gotten distracted with trying to fiddle with some last minute upgrades, and didn’t catch Makoto’s cry of ecstasy.  Her computer chimed to alert her to it but she was fast asleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto awoke, her chest heaving as her rapidly beating heart began to slow.  There was a throbbing, pleasant ache in her loins that went well with the stickiness she felt between her thighs.  She squeaked in embarrassment as she clasped her hands to her face.  She knew exactly what had happened and why she had awoken from her slumber.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was embarrassed of the memories of her dream, her face hot beneath her hands.  Fully awake, she began to notice the differences between what had actually happened in real life and what had been an absolutely amazing, fantastical fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto had never gotten that rematch with Haruka at the training camp.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She knew that Michiru had joined them in that car ride, the events having played out differently.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, her time in Crystal Tokyo had been suffocatingly awful, but she had never seen an image of a Godly Haruka, beckoning to her to return to a simpler time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And on that night before her big opening of Makoto’s Kitchen, it hadn’t been Haruka that had visited her but Motoki.  He had given her a messy bouquet of hastily picked flowers and even though it had been really nice to see him, and he even walked her home, but he didn’t come up to her apartment which had left her feeling a little sad and insecure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With an increasing horror, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach, she realized that one of her dreams hadn’t been a fantasy but had actually been a real memory.  She groaned, utterly and embarrassed and ashamed.  She had forgotten how she had pleasured herself the night Haruka had given her her scarf, imagining Haruka beside her, on top of her, inside of her, the scarf clenched tightly in her free hand.  She bit her lip as the memory resurfaced again, feeling dirty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A snort beside Makoto broke her out of her reverie.  She turned to see the blond Motoki soundly asleep beside her, snoring quietly.  Her face paled as realization hit her like an out of control shinkansen; one of the reasons she had married Motoki was because he had looked so much like Haruka.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Makoto turned to stare up at the ceiling.  After a moment, she quietly admitted to herself in such a hushed whisper that not even Ami’s recording could pick it up, “Oh Kami-sama… I still like Haruka.”&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Euri]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Modern Day]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=542</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
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				<updated>2020-11-29T16:25:50Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
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				<updated>2020-11-29T16:25:30Z</updated>
		
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

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				<updated>2016-12-06T18:32:27Z</updated>
		
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Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
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Interested in writing a story using other player's characters? Be sure to check the [[Character Permissions Guide]] first!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=455</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=455"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T15:04:04Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;One Last Surprise&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless--she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;exactly what I want you to see.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tattoos on her skin appeared bright and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths' time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=454</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=454"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T15:01:10Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless--she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;exactly what I want you to see.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tattoos on her skin appeared bright and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths' time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
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He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&amp;quot;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=453</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=453"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T15:00:28Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless--she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;exactly what I want you to see.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tattoos on her skin appeared bright and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths' time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
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He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=452</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=452"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T14:59:35Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless--she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see exactly what I want you to see. And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tattoos on her skin appeared bright and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly. He couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;GAME ON&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=451</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=451"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T14:59:08Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless--she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see exactly what I want you to see. And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tattoos on her skin appeared bright and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;GAME ON&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2015 Sushil K. Rudranath. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=450</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=450"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T14:58:31Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;One Last Surprise&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless. She was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see exactly what I want you to see. And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tatoos on her skin appeared right, and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;GAME ON&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2015 Sushil K. Rudranath. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=449</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=449"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T14:57:58Z</updated>
		
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|title=  Revelation&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium&lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;TITLE&amp;gt; Revelation&amp;lt;/TITLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=title&amp;gt;Revelation&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;One Last Surprise&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;Last&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Moments&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be an &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless, she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see exactly what I want you to see. And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tatoos on her skin appeared right, and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;GAME ON&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=448</id>
		<title>Revelation</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Revelation&amp;diff=448"/>
				<updated>2015-09-12T14:54:59Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot;    {{Storybox |title=  Revelation |author= Dr. Xadium |creationdate= 09/12/15 |continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A |timeplacement= September 12th, 2015 |synopsis= Paisley faces the...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
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|creationdate= 09/12/15&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= September 12th, 2015&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Paisley faces the loss of the only family she has left. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author style=&amp;quot;color:black; font-size: 80%&amp;quot;&amp;gt;By Dr. Xadium , September 12th, 2015&amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 &amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 WODEHOUSE lay in the bed, his breaths ragged and raspy, multiple blankets stacked atop him to stave off the chill in his bones, which lingered even through the heat of the Autumn's night. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Standing above him, Paisley stood vigil  as she had for the past three nights when she had first heard heard his wracked coughing coming from his chambers. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Wodehouse had not complained of any discomfort-- nor would he. A gentleman born and bred in an age where the &amp;quot;Stiff upper lip&amp;quot; was everything, speaking of personal pain simply &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;was not done&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Most certainly he had researched his condition privately, and come to the same conclusion she had-- it was a fatal pulmonary infection. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Similarly, Paisley's expression was neutral,  betraying no emotion. She might be several generations removed from the old man, but she was the Lady of Peinforte Manor, and there were still expectations placed upon her. Expectations she knew Wodehouse would want her to fulfill, even at his deathbed. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Privately, she had spent hours crying in her study, doing her best to keep the sound down in the hopes he would not hear. More than likely, he did, but as a gentleman, he was politely discreet enough not to acknowledge it in any way, as with most of her other un-ladylike activities. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Still, the pressure weighed upon her. It was clear from his pallor and his laboured breathing that there was precious little time left. Soon, he would die. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No more Wodehouse. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley could scarcely contemplate the notion. He had served her family before she had even been born. When she was five, he had been the one to tell her when her parents had died on the Alps. He had raised her from that moment on as his own, yet still with the deference and respect owed to a young Mistress. Life without him would be so incredibly empty. True, he was in his eighties, but still, she had not ever really thought this day would come. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; Wodehouse groaned, uncharacteristically reaching up for her hand, using what must have been almost all his remaining strength. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley started, shocked out of her reflection by the sound of his voice. It had always been so strong, but now it sounded weak and frail, like a whisper in the wind. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;How long has he sounded like this?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she reflected. It wasn't just the illness... he had been declining for the last five years or so. But to her, he had always seemed strong, and able. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Have I just turned a blind eye to it?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; she pondered. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Did I not want to face the inevitability of this moment?&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She reached down and took his hand, grasping it firmly. His hand was cold and his hold weak, but somehow he managed to firm it up as he looked her in the eyes with the most serious expression she'd ever seen. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Wodehouse?&amp;quot; she enquired,  trying to keep her voice from cracking. She knew-- she just knew-- this would be one of the last things he would ever say to her in this life. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Lady Peinforte...&amp;quot; he wheezed, shaking his head slightly and forcing himself to break a lifetime of habit. &amp;quot;Paisley&amp;quot;, he continued, being daringly familiar. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley gulped, understanding just how much that took and how important he must feel his words to be if he was going to broach that unspoken distance that, honestly, was merely a façade the duo had adopted to preserve their inborn senses of social propriety. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; she replied, trying for all the world not to sound like the  scared little girl she was inside at this moment. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm sorry, my Lady&amp;quot; Wodehouse began slowly, trailing off a bit. She had never seen him so weak. So accepting of defeat. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Sorry?&amp;quot; Paisley echoed, uncomprehendingly. &amp;quot;Sorry for what, Wodehouse?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse looked up at her with a strange, sad look, finally forcing out the words. &amp;quot;For not... doing what I should have.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley blinked, confused. &amp;quot;Pardon?&amp;quot; She could not recall any time Wodehouse had ever been anything less than exemplary in performing his duties. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse sighed, running a finger over one of the faint tattoos on Paisley's wrist. &amp;quot;For not putting my foot down.&amp;quot; He smacked his lips a few times, mouth dry. Paisley leaned over and gave him some water. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;In regard to what?&amp;quot; Paisley quietly pressed, not understanding where this conversation was heading. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied, tapping her tattoo. &amp;quot;Allowing you to indulge your fantasies,&amp;quot; he continued, voice getting a bit stronger as his feelings lent him strength. &amp;quot;After your parents died, I should have kept you on an even keel, forced you to stay in Oxford, to mingle with your peers, but I allowed you to sink further into this delusional lifestyle....&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley tilted her head but said nothing for a long moment. &amp;quot;Go on,&amp;quot; she replied tonelessly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All this talk of 'magic' and 'time travel' and heroism...&amp;quot; Wodehouse continued. &amp;quot;You were a young woman, and to be honest I had no experience raising young ladies... I didn't know how to push you in the right direction... instead I allowed you to get more and more immersed in this daydream, cut off from the world, until now it governs you, and I...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He broke into a heavy coughing fit, finally forcing himself to conclude, &amp;quot;And now I have no more time left.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley just stared at him for a long moment, the silence leaden and uncomfortable in the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You should have had a young man by now...&amp;quot; Wodehouse finally ventured, the imminence of his death making him a bit braver. &amp;quot;A life beyond these walls...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I have one,&amp;quot; Paisley replied, greatly restraining herself. &amp;quot;A rich life, with many friends. As for a man, that'll come in time.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
She snickered slightly. &amp;quot;And you need to get with the times, Wodehouse, these days it could be a young woman.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, unamused. &amp;quot;I allowed you to indulge your fantasy of being some sort of sorceress because I didn't know how to help you back from that abyss of losing your parents.&amp;quot; He stopped again, coughing fiercely. &amp;quot;But It's destroyed your future.&amp;quot; He looked up at her pleadingly. &amp;quot;I beg you... my lady...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley looked at him askance, shocked at what she was hearing. &amp;quot;Yes?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It' s not too late,&amp;quot; Wodehouse insisted, pushing himself to get the words out even has he felt the life starting to ebb from his body. &amp;quot;Put away the fantasy, and find a life.... please.&amp;quot; He coughed again, blood-flecked spittle staining the white linien sheets upon which he rested.  &amp;quot;I wish...&amp;quot; he groaned. &amp;quot;I wish I had more time...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley stood rooted to the spot, mind wheeling. Wodehouse... what he had just said.... &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Peter Graves Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley suddenly snapped, sounding every bit the authoritative head of Peinforte Manor she was. &amp;quot;You really want more time to help me?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse nodded weakly, but it was too late. He knew he had very little time left. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Someone in this room is deluded, indeed, my dear Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued rapidly, suddenly feeling energized, &amp;quot;but it's not me.&amp;quot; She stared right at him. &amp;quot;I happen to be a, &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;extremely&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; strong telepath.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse frowned, it was hopeless, she was too far gone. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley grinned. &amp;quot;To the point where I can make you see exactly what I want you to see. And I've been doing that since I was sixteen.&amp;quot; She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, the faint tatoos on her skin appeared right, and vivid, etched darkly into her flesh, shifting and changing with every moment. Her blazer and skirt vanished, replaced by a long, flowing red robe adorned with golden ornaments that looked timelessly ancient. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse's mouth opened slightly, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, you may have heard bits and pieces, Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley continued, her grin widening, &amp;quot;but I kept the whole picture hidden from you. No one-- not even my friends-- really knows what I look like, or what I can do.&amp;quot; She thrust her hand into the folds of her robes as if looking for something. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Then it wasn't...&amp;quot; Wodehouse began, the sentence cutting short as his life suddenly left him. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Paisley shivered, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment.  Her premonition had been correct. Those had been his last words to her. She bit her lower lip and pressed on. This was the end... &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;but the moment had been prepared for. &amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Three breaths,&amp;quot; she quickly said to herself, remembering some ancient lore. &amp;quot;The soul has three breaths time before it leaves...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Quickly, she took the small bottle she had been looking for out of her robes, and decanted it over Wodehouse's mouth, letting one single drop of liquid spill down onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;
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Several minutes later, Peter Graves Wodehouse jerked upright on his deathbed, gasping for air. Reflexively, he reached out to steady himself, and gasped again, this time because of what he saw. His thin, bony, liver-spotted arm covered in sparse light grey hair was gone, replaced by a thick, strong muscular arm covered in fresh, black hair. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He looked up at Paisley askance. For her part, the girl just wolf-whistled. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Wodehouse&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she teased slyly, &amp;quot;You were quite the looker back in the day.&amp;quot; He looked very much like a young Brendan Frasier. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse coughed, looking in a mirror. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My word,&amp;quot; he exhaled. He looked like a man of twenty-five once again! Even his voice was young, and strong. He turned his gaze back to Paisley, who was still in her flowing red robes. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;So all the things she had said, they were...&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; &amp;quot;Lady Peinforte, what...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Elixir of Life,&amp;quot; Paisley explained, holding up the empty bottle. &amp;quot;Very rare stuff. Should keep you going for another 50 years or so before you'll need another shot, unless you get hit by a bus, or something.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse subconsciously placed a hand over his chest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;All taken care of,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a grin. &amp;quot;Elixir's good for that.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse just stared at her, uncharacteristically confused and adrift. For years he had thought the Lady Peinforte had been lost in a peculiar kind of madness, but in truth... he had been the one living a lie!&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Now, now!&amp;quot; Paisley scolded, feigning indignation,  crossing her arms over her chest. &amp;quot;I know you're younger and all, but those thoughts &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Simply. will not. do&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;~  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Wodehouse spluttered. flailing. &amp;quot;W-what? I certainly wasn't thinking anything improper, Lady Peinforte~&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Are you saying I'm not fit~?&amp;quot; Paisley asked dangerously, doing her best not to crack up laughing at Wodehouse's blubbering as he tried to recover. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eventually, Wodehouse coughed and composed himself, rising from the bed. &amp;quot;I believe I should tend to the manor, My Lady,&amp;quot; he replied finally. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Way to dodge the question, Old Man,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a smile. &amp;quot;Good to see you back on your feet again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It's good to be back,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;Thank you, Lady Peinforte.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You are most welcome, Mister Wodehouse,&amp;quot; Paisley replied with a curtsey, her outfit suddenly changing back to her blazer, blouse  and skirt combination. &amp;quot;But I think you should fetch the shotgun.&amp;quot; She looked out towards the direction of the massive front lawn. &amp;quot;Zombies are coming.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, My lady,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied. &amp;quot;And I think I'll be joining you on the line, if that is permissible.&amp;quot; He easily spun two shotguns in his hands, tossing one to Paisley. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Not until after you fetch me some tea,&amp;quot; Paisley quipped, charging her shotgun with temporal energy and heading for the front lawn. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;quot;Yes Ma'am,&amp;quot; Wodehouse replied with a smile. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;GAME ON&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2015 Sushil K. Rudranath. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
[[Category:Dr. Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=418</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=418"/>
				<updated>2015-08-24T19:54:51Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
{{Special:Newestpages/-/10}}&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=414</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=414"/>
				<updated>2015-08-12T18:04:34Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=413</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=413"/>
				<updated>2015-08-12T17:15:09Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=412</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=412"/>
				<updated>2015-08-12T17:11:29Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Replaced content with &amp;quot; Something broke. hang tight.&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Something broke. hang tight.&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Horrible_Wedding&amp;diff=411</id>
		<title>Horrible Wedding</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Horrible_Wedding&amp;diff=411"/>
				<updated>2015-03-19T05:00:58Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: Created page with &amp;quot; &amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt; &amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt; &amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;FONT FACE=&amp;quot;tahoma&amp;quot; SIZE=&amp;quot;2&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BLOCKQUOTE&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;  &amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;  GUESTS enter.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;  PIPE ORGAN chimes in.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;  SONG...&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE WIDTH=&amp;quot;650&amp;quot; HEIGHT=&amp;quot;30%&amp;quot; BORDER=&amp;quot;0&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;FONT FACE=&amp;quot;tahoma&amp;quot; SIZE=&amp;quot;2&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BLOCKQUOTE&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUESTS enter.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PIPE ORGAN chimes in.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: They Might Be Giants (Which Describes How You're Feeling All the Time, 192kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GROOM and BEST MAN enter, walking down the aisle to stand at the altar.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
UNNECESSARY OTHERS (ie. ringbearer, bridesmaids, groomsmen, etc) dash over one another in a mad attempt to assume their proper places before the song is over.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE enters, walking down the aisle all stately-like.  When she reaches the middle of the aisle, demons break out of the floor and attack her.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Seiken Densetsu 2 OST (Meridian Dance)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GROOM and GUESTS draw weapons and blow the ever-living hell out of the demons in a kick-ass fight scene.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BLOOD-SPATTERED BRIDE resumes her walk down the aisle, joining the wedding party at the altar.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST lurches up from behind the altar, bottle in hand.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST: Oh gawd, is it noon already?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST looks around blearily, squinting at the crowd.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Painful Disharmonious Organ Chord (B flat, 320 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST screams in agony, dropping the bottle with a crash as he puts his hands to his ears.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  All right, all RIGHT!  Gods in heavens, I'm up!&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE and GROOM look at one another nervously.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST staggers from behind the altar and nearly trips on the pulput before coming to a slow halt.  He stands at attention and zones out for a moment before focusing in on the BRIDE AND GROOM.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Sssho, ish thish an absholushun or ish thish a proper weddin'?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GROOM AND BRIDE IN UNISON:  You're not that drunk.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Oh, but I wish I was.  Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the-&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST is interrupted by a HORDE OF ATTACKING DEMONS.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Final Fantasy IV OST (Battle Theme)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUESTS and GROOM band together to drive them off with superior firepower.  PRIEST comes out from under the pulpit and resumes his previous position after checking the floorboards to verify the absence of demons.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Deeeearly beloved, we are gathered here today in order to celebrate the union of-&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST is interrupted by an ANGRY DEMON LORD.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUESTS and GROOM band together in order to fight it off, succeeding only in stalling it.  The BRIDE finds power she did not know she had and seals the ANGRY DEMON LORD away for another hundred thousand years.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When the dust has settled, PRIEST makes the sign of the cross, winces as though the gesture causes him pain, and stands back in his previous position.  He speaks warily, glancing around again.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today so that we may celebrate the union of these two-&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Seiken Densetsu 3 OST (Nuclear Fusion)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST is interrupted by the CURSED WEAPON of one of the GUESTS achieving sentience and throwing off its shackles.  It possesses its OWNER and attacks the gathering.  GUESTS and GROOM and BRIDE band together to stop it, but the CURSED WEAPON is only put down when one of the other GUESTS confesses his/her love to the OWNER.  When the PRIEST speaks reverently from his hiding position beneath the pulpit.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  You know, I didn't have a hangover a few minutes ago, but I do now.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Maaya Sakamoto (Garden of Everything, 160 kbps)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WEDDING PARTY resumes its previous positions.  MIKO is brought out and chants in the background, warding the area against spirits while the PRIEST pops a few asprin.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the impending union of two of our own.  This is not the first such union to occur in recent memory, nor will it likely be the last, but we might as well use each of them as an excuse to get drunk and hit on the women of loose moral character.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST raises his hands to the sky.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Oh dear Gods in Heavens, please do not smite me when I mention hitting on the women of loose moral character, as your servant is but human and is interested in propogating the clergy by any means necessary.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
LIGHTNING rumbles threateningly.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Your blessing has been recorded by the scribes.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A SCRIBE begins tapping noisily at a cuneform tablet.  PRIEST steps back and points accusatorily at the BRIDE.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  YOU are the female of the species.  You should get that looked at.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The PRIEST points accusatorily at the GROOM.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  YOU are the male of the species.  They have doctors for that, you know.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST produces a large bottle of vodka from a nebulous origin and takes a swig, shuddering as it goes down.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Together, the two of you possess the capacity to make babies.  It may take a little genetic manipulation, given your origins, but they manipulate genes with your people all the time.  It's like second nature!  Besides, we've seen something that claims to be your spawn, and it isn't pretty.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST leers at the offspring in question, as it has decided to attend.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Tasty, perhaps, but not pretty by any stretch of the imagination.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
OFFSPRING draws a Hattori Hanzo blade and moves to attack.  PRIEST is only saved by the timely intervention of a bolt of lighting shooting down from the heavens.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  The Gods defend their own!  Such is a lesson to the infidels.  We progress with the ceremony!&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
LARGE BURLY MEN appear from nowhere and cart the fried, twitching body of the OFFSPRING elsewhere.  PRIEST affects a vague degree of sobriety as he continues.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  In the old days, marriages were used as a concrete way to tie families together.  The people being married seldom had any choice in the matter, and that was probably for the best.  In modern times, though, there is no such mandate, leaving young people to flounder around without a clue as to who they should be wed to.  Sometimes they hook up with one another and decide that they're going to make a more permanent union for purposes of sexual exclusivity and child-rearing.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST squints at both BRIDE and GROOM.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  At least, that's what I THINK you're going for.  There are other people who'd rant and rave about &amp;quot;true love,&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;lovers fated to be,&amp;quot; but you know what?  There ain't no such thing.  Destiny is a cheat.  Magical ties are only there because we perceive that they must be there.  Not only do Gods play dice with the universe, the dice are loaded.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST sweeps a wide gesture to the crowd.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Seriously!  How many people here are immortal?  How many of that fraction have really lived long enough to believe in love?  And not this storybook attraction thing- not the love that comes from the touch of another.  We're substituting attraction of the flesh for attraction of the soul, and we can only die a little more as a collective intelligence because of it.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BEST MAN:  Are you done proselytizing yet?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST: Almost.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST takes a long swig of vodka before screaming in pain as the alcohol courses down his esophagus.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  The only reason I came to do this thing at all was because I accidentally stabbed the previous priest five times in the back with a corkscrew.  I feel obligated by the nature of ceremony to give a speech.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE and GROOM stare balefully at the PRIEST.  The PRIEST brightens up.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  But hey!  We can be all nice and Christian or Hindu or Buddhist or Kwanzayic if that's what you want.  Would you like some words from the holy scripture to back my point of view up?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The room is silent in response.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Very well.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Korn (Y'all Want a Single, 128kpbs)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  From the book of GhazPORK, Second Annihilation, Chapter Eight Verse Manslaughter.  (screaming into the microphone)  &amp;quot;I'LL TELL YOU WHAT GHAZPORK THINKS!!  GHAZPORK DOESN'T USE TOILET PAPER, HE USES LAWYERS!&amp;quot;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The WEDDING AREA resonates with the echo for a few seconds.  Anyone with sensitive hearing is on their knees, trying desperately to keep the blood from spurting out of their ears.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  From the book of GhazPORK, First Obliteration, Chapter Eight Verse Arson.  (screaming into the microphone)  &amp;quot;WHENEVER I WANT TO DO A GOOD DEED, I POOP IN A PAPER BAG AND PUT IT ON THE FRONT PORCH OF ONE OF MY FRIENDS!!  THEN WHEN THEY OPEN THE BAG AND TAKE A WHIFF, IT WILL MAKE THEM FEEL WARM AND SMOOSHY INSIDE TO KNOW HOW DEEPLY I CARE ABOUT THEM!!!&amp;quot;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WINDOWS in the WEDDING AREA have shattered.  One of the cat-children in the audience is weeping openly for the pain.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST tosses a dog-eared copy of &amp;lt;U&amp;gt;The Catcher in the Rye&amp;lt;/U&amp;gt; that he's been reading from behind him.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  In strictest formalities, I think I've covered everything I need to.  You both want an exclusive sexual contract with one another, and you both want the ability to say you're married- for what that little tinge of an idea is worth- and you want the right to have as many little cat-children as you want.  So be it!  If you want someone to say the magic words to complete the ceremony, you've come to the right place and time.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SONG: Seiken Densetsu 3 OST (The Sacrifice, Part II)&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST throws a puff of ash on his forehead and dances in a circle before turning to the BRIDE.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Do you, BRIDE, take this man here to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good plots and in hackneyed reruns?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE is leaning heavily on the GROOM, blood running down from her ears.  She speaks as though she is deaf, which she may actually be.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE:  WHAT?!&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Close enough.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST wipes the ash off his forehead and throws a puff of ash on his crotch.  He dances in a circle before turning to the GROOM.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Do you, GROOM, take this woman here to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in both sickeningly adorable moments of closeness and vomit-inducing times of sappiness?&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GROOM:  What the hell is your problem?!&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  Close enough.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST does the hokey pokey.  All five verses.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  I pronounce you victim and rescuer.  You may now smoosh your hearts out.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BRIDE and GROOM kiss, warily or not.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST:  And I'm out of here!  Exchange yer f'in rings later, I'm going to hit that buffet and the f'in open bar you guys paid for.  WOOOOWEEEE.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PRIEST exists, followed by anyone who is there strictly for the buffet and open bar.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;FONT SIZE=&amp;quot;5&amp;quot;&amp;gt;END CEREMONY&amp;lt;/FONT&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[ Category: Yaijinden ]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=365</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=365"/>
				<updated>2014-11-30T17:50:55Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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|title=  Night of the Betrayer&lt;br /&gt;
|author= Dr. Xadium &lt;br /&gt;
|creationdate= 11/30/3014&lt;br /&gt;
|continuity= SSEU Earth 1337-A&lt;br /&gt;
|timeplacement= 11/30/2014&lt;br /&gt;
|synopsis= Background for a Werewolf Style RPG event. &lt;br /&gt;
|rating= PG&lt;br /&gt;
|additionalnotes= Ending to be determined in live event. &lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;Trust No One&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;An&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Incredible Simulation&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2014 Doctor Xadium. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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[[Category:Doctor Xadium]] [[Category:SSEU Stories]] [[Category:The Suburban Senshi]]&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=364</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
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				<updated>2014-11-30T17:46:58Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=title&amp;gt;Night of the Betrayer&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2014 Doctor Xadium. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=363</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
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				<updated>2014-11-30T17:46:34Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2014 Doctor Xadium. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=362</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
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				<updated>2014-11-30T17:45:59Z</updated>
		
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&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;Trust No One&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;II&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;Blood&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Legacy&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;III&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;An&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Incredible Simulation&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;###&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;!-- Generic chapter --//&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;Chapter Number&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=footer&amp;gt;All original characters and scenarios &amp;amp;copy; 2014 Doctor Xadium. All rights reserved.&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=361</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
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				<updated>2014-11-30T17:45:04Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=subtitle&amp;gt;Trust No One&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Night_of_the_Betrayer&amp;diff=360</id>
		<title>Night of the Betrayer</title>
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				<updated>2014-11-30T17:44:29Z</updated>
		
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&amp;lt;h2 class=author&amp;gt;By Doctor Xadium  &amp;amp;#8226; November 30th, 2014   &amp;lt;/h2&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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 The Intern leaned back on one of the random sofas that were haphazardly placed around the lobby of the HOTEL, slowly gnawing on a hot, freshly-baked loaf of garlic bread. She believed the sofa was named &amp;quot;Unknown Sofa&amp;quot;. &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 It was odd, she reflected, naming furniture. Well, she shouldn't say that. Time Lords loved to give names to things, the more pretentious, the better. There was even the Toilet Paper of Rassilon, for goodness sakes. The humans were nowhere near that level of pervasive nomenclature.&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Still, so many sofas.&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It had not even been a year since she'd come to this place-- which had, in its prior life, been a simple, if overflowing house filled wall-to-wall with guests and often unwelcome intruders. There were many sofas for the many people that that crowded space had had to accommodate. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Looking at one of the other chairs, Intern's keen gaze chanced upon some random, almost faded stains, and a bit of matted gum that had not been thoroughly cleaned from its surface. &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;What stories, what history had happened here&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;, she wondered. What events had occured-- small personal moments-- that weren't recorded in the sterile field reports she had received from The Co-Ordinator when she was posted here?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes. despite knowing the people here, she felt like a complete outsider in this place. It was, a lot of the time, terribly lonely for her in a way, despite having many of her countrymen in attendance from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The sound of clacking high heels against the marble lobby floor broke The Intern out of her introspection. Looking up from her now almost-totally devoured bread, she saw the imposing figure of Franziska von Karma before her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The INTERPOL prosecutor was leaning to one side, supporting a gravely injured man who was more than a foot taller than she was. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Intern!&amp;quot; Von Karma snapped. &amp;quot;I could use your help here! This man is injured!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The Intern was already on her feet, having leapt over a sofa to one of the many medical stations located on the walls of the HOTEL. Due to the almost unremitting violence that tended to occur in the HOTEL walls, one of its inhabitants, Solarchos Langister, had  taken it upon himself to make sure that first aid facilities were never more than an arm's length away. In this instance, she was glad of his foresight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Set him down on that sofa there!&amp;quot; Intern snapped, her normally gentle demeanour changing to one of firm authority as her training took hold. She indicated a dark green sofa which was the property of Sailor Quinox. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did as she was instructed, and gingerly placed the wounded man upon the sofa. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Working with frankly inhuman speed, The Intern bandaged up the man's wounds and ran a scan over him with a medical tricorder. She raised an eyebrow as the results came back. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This man isn't human,&amp;quot; Intern declared, turning the tricorder around so Franziska could see it. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Hardly surprising,&amp;quot; Franziska replied. &amp;quot;I found him in the Alien Zone as I was coming back from a trial. He staggered out of an alleyway. Judging by the wounds he was attacked with some kind of knife.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern concurred. Franziska's years of experience as a Prosecutor reviewing autopsy reports had served her well. &amp;quot;The Tricorder confirms that, several serrated blades were used-- luckily they failed to hit vital organs, since this person was in a shapeshifted form and the organs were displaced from the species norm.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska regarded the now-sleeping individual on the couch. &amp;quot;What is he, then?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A 'Mim',&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;In their native form they resemble something akin to a purple, tentacled sponge. They have the ability to perfectly mimic humans, or even Time Lords.  Due to their mimicry ability, many races persecute them-- it's no surprise one would be found in the Akihabara Alien Zone.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Th...there's more of us,&amp;quot; the man spluttered, eyes fluttering as he slowly regained conciousness. &amp;quot;And... we need... your... help.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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It took a few minutes, but Franziska and The Intern were able to get their visitor-- who identified himself as  &amp;quot;Alta Lorix&amp;quot;, to tell his story. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My village was an isolated place, largely cut off from the rest of the world,&amp;quot; Lorix explained, taking a long swig of coffee. &amp;quot;Superstition ruled almost every aspect of daily life. There was a belief that if the Old Gods were not placated, disaster would befall the land.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How foolish,&amp;quot; Franziska remarked. She had no patience for the mumbo-jumbo associated with much of the supernatural. Silently, Intern agreed with er, but also acknowledged the deep hold superstition could have on a people. It was not to be underestimated. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's easy to say from an outsider's perspective,&amp;quot; Lorix replied, a taut smile on his lips. &amp;quot;But for the older generation, it was the inescapable truth. We, the young ones, did our best to worm ourselves away from the Old Traditions-- but change came slowly, and not without...&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He paused, voice cracking slightly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;..&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;significant&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; resistance.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What happened?&amp;quot; The Intern enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;About fifty years ago-- which is roughly a century or so to humans,&amp;quot; Lorix began, &amp;quot;There was an astronomical conjunction known as a 'Blood Moon'. The older generation believed that unless Mim sacrifices were made to slake the thirst of the Blood God, that tragedy would befall our village.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Barbaric,&amp;quot; Franziska commented, unashamedly passing judgement.  Intern winced, wishing the prosecutor would attempt to be a bit more reserved in her opinions. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Oh, we of the younger generation agreed,&amp;quot; Lorix replied. &amp;quot;It was determined that, for the first time in centuries, there would be no sacrifice. It was heralded as the beginning of a new age of enlightenment and science.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He said the last sentence bitterly. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I take it from your tone this wasn't the case?&amp;quot; Franziska enquired. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Heh,&amp;quot; Lorix muttered, forcing himself to remember the what he'd seen  a child. &amp;quot;It certainly wasn't. Someone was determined to keep the old traditions alive, no matter the cost.&amp;quot; He paused to take a large swig of coffee, as if girding himself to face the memories he was about to unearth.  Presently, he continued. &amp;quot;When I was I child. I saw it. The morning after the blood moon the villagers awoke to find five of their number dead in their beds, throats -- well the Mim equivalent of them, anyway--slit.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern gasped as Franziska just looked on in stony silence. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;There was no conclusive evidence as to who did it,&amp;quot; Lorix continued. &amp;quot;There were a lot of suspects, obviously the older set, but some of the youngsters who were considered adherents of the Old Religion as well-- not everyone wore it on their sleeve in the 'new age' of  Reason.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What does this have to do with what happened to you in Akihabara?&amp;quot;  Intern asked, chewing on a doughnut. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;After the sacrifice, many in my village fled to Earth, and formed a refugee community in the area you call the 'Alien Zone', Lorix explained. &amp;quot;We wanted nothing to do with a culture that so casually permitted murder in the name of faceless beings.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
He let out a long sigh. &amp;quot;But even here, halfway across the cosmos, we cannot escape the mocking faces of the Old Gods, it seems.&amp;quot; Touching one of his hnadaged arms, he sighed. &amp;quot;The time of the Blood Moon is coming again, and there are rumours that some of the murderers from long ago are in our midst, ready to kill again.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Did someone attempt to sacrifice you?&amp;quot; Franziska pressed, starting to understand-- or so she thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;No,&amp;quot; Lorix said bitterly. &amp;quot;They think I'm one of the potential murderers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But you were a child!&amp;quot; Intern protested. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, 'but you could be an older man taking the shape of a younger man to evade detection', seems to be the rationale,&amp;quot; Lorix replied angrily, &amp;quot; though there's nothing rational about any of this!&amp;quot; He drank the rest of his coffee. &amp;quot;Our ability to perfectly mimic another person's form is a blessing an d a curse, even amonst our own people. The community is terrified of what might happen during the Blood Moon and it's tearing itself apart trying to murder the murderers before they can sacrifice anyone.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's foolishness!&amp;quot; Franziska explained, rising to her feet and cracking her whip in irritation. &amp;quot;They had no evidence as to the true identities of the murderers last time! How can they expect to determine who they are now?!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Exactly,&amp;quot; Lorix agreed. &amp;quot;They can't. But rationality has left them in the face of this supposed existential crisis. Our community can't handle the strain.&amp;quot; He looked to von Karma. &amp;quot;And that's why we need your help, Prosecutor von Karma.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;My help?&amp;quot; Franziska asked in surprise. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;It was no accident you found me,&amp;quot; Lorix explained. &amp;quot;I was heading for the Alien Zone courts when I was attacked. Your reputation as a meticulous investigator is well known, Madame von Karma. and we need an outsider to delve into this mystery once and for all and bring the truth to light.&amp;quot;  He looked at her with genuine, desperate need. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;You expect me to find out who in your community was a murderer from the prior Blood Moon?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, somewhat incredulously, but also flattered and intrigued. This would be a severe test of her skills as an investigator. She had to admit, though, she had no idea of where to begin. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Perhaps I can be of some assistance,&amp;quot; Intern offered, intuiting Franziska's dilemma. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;div class=&amp;quot;spacer&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;TD width=20%&amp;gt;&amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;III&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;An&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Incredible Simulation&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 Franziska and Intern stood in the center of a vast room, surrounded only by four black walls inscribed with a yellow grid that covered them from floor to ceiling. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This is a Holodeck System,&amp;quot; Intern explained, gesturing broadly at the surroundings, &amp;quot;based on  24th Century Terran technology. It basically acts as a blank canvas we can use to recreate any scene or locale from any point in history that we have data on.&amp;quot; She looked up into the air. &amp;quot;Computer!&amp;quot; she commanded, &amp;quot;Arch!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A control Arch materialised, seemingly out of thin air. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;How does this all work?&amp;quot; Franziska asked, visibly impressed by the sight. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;A combination of force fields, holographic lighting and sophisticated Artificial Intelligence,&amp;quot; Intern explained absently as she connected her data PADD to the Arch, uploading some information directly into the Holodeck computer. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Presently, with numerous instances of &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;woosh&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;ing sounds, components of a scene took shape-- first a pinkish sky, then a rocky landscape, then huts, then generic bystanders. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska did her best to not stare at the scene agape. It was so realistic, she could swear she even smelled the scent of an alien breeze wafting past her. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So is this like Kay Faraday's 'Little Thief?&amp;quot; Franziska asked. &amp;quot;A device that presents a simulation we can walk around and examine?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Much more than that,&amp;quot; Intern said proudly, chewing on a Granola bar. She spoke to the air once again. &amp;quot;Computer! Run program Intern One!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the static scene snapped into action, the control arch vanishing.  The heat of twin alien suns beat down on Franziska, the murmur of a living village playing out in the background, generic bystanders suddenly animated and alive, conversing with each other and regarding Intern and Franziska with interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;&amp;lt;I&amp;gt;Mein Gott&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;,&amp;quot; Fransizka muttered, &amp;quot;It's alive.&amp;quot; Her time at the HOTEL should have prepared her for sights like this, she realized-- hell, the building was bigger on the inside than the outside-- but &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;still&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt;. Wonders never ceased. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Intern adjusted the program so the Bystanders ignored the distinctly alien dress of herself and Franziska. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I've uploaded all the data the Celestial Intervention Agency has on the Mim village at the time of the first Blood Sacrifice murders,&amp;quot; Intern related, as she summoned the control arch again and started adjusting the running program.  &amp;quot;Personality profiles, village data, the works.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;That's a lot of information,&amp;quot; Franziska mused. &amp;quot;But if your people have that much data, surely they can just see who the killers are?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern replied, a bit uncomfortably. &amp;quot;But release of information at that level is forbidden because it might affect events in the current day Akihabara in a way that adversely affects the timeline.&amp;quot; She hated saying that, because humans almost never understood the importance of maintaining the timeline, and usually saw her explanations as arbitrary handwaving. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Ridiculous!&amp;quot; Franziska exclaimed, cracking her whip at Intern, proving her point. &amp;quot;You should just disclose the information if it will save lives!&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;I'm doing the best I can,&amp;quot; Intern replied, genuinely frustrated. If only people could see the web of cause and effect as she could! If only they could &amp;lt;I&amp;gt;understand&amp;lt;/I&amp;gt; why certain events could not be tampered with! &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and held out a palm full of what looked like oversized microchips. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;What are these?&amp;quot; Franziska asked curiously. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;They're a variant of Dalek mind control chips,&amp;quot; Intern explained. &amp;quot;Loaded with the recorded personality profiles of each of the villagers currently in Little Mimtown taht were present in the Village that night. Somewhere in here, the data of their status as a Murderer is located.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Mind control chips?&amp;quot; Franziska mused, trying to understand what Intern was playing at. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;If we put these on behind the left ear,&amp;quot; Intern began slowly, &amp;quot;Our own personalities will be temporarily modified to integrate the information at a subconscious level.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Subconscious...&amp;quot; Franziska pondered. &amp;quot;Wait!&amp;quot; she exclaimed. &amp;quot;Modified?&amp;quot;  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern continued, knowing this part of the plan would meet with resistance. &amp;quot;I can't disclose the information directly, but with these chips on, and with enough of us playing the roles of the villagers in this simulation-- with safeties on, of course-- we can duplicate the night of the murders... and if we're clever enough, determine their true identities over the span of about a week's time (simulated, of course).&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;This seems overly complex,&amp;quot; Franziska  observed. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes, well,&amp;quot; Intern pressed on, a little irritated that her clever plan was being so handily dismissed. &amp;quot;It gives us a chance to examine the circumstances of that night on a deeply connected level, and if we're lucky, to ferret out the malefactors in time to confront the killers in Akihabara before the Mim community on Earth annihilates itself in internecine bloodletting.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;So to make sure I understand,&amp;quot; Franziska continued. &amp;quot;We-- as ourselves, play these villagers, but in the back of our minds, some of us are the killers, and when the time comes we will strike, and it will be the job of the rest of us, to ferret out which ones are in fact guilty?&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Yes,&amp;quot; Intern confirmed. &amp;quot;If we succeed, we'll have suspects we can track down and trace, and save the Mims. If we fail, and thesimulated murderers defeat us... it will be a civil war in little Mimtown.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;But we won't be in real danger,&amp;quot; Franziska asked pointedly.  &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;quot;Think of it as a Dinner Theatre mystery with higher stakes,&amp;quot; Intern replied. &amp;quot;If you 'die', you just leave the simulation, but the consquences for the Mims will be all too real if we can't flush out the killers.&amp;quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&amp;lt;P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Franziska nodded. It was a desperate gamble, unlike any other investigation she'd ever participated in before... but if it would save lives, she would give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/P&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;###&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;!-- Generic chapter --//&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;lt;DIV CLASS=chapterhead&amp;gt;Chapter Number&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitleone&amp;gt;Main Title&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;div class=chaptertitletwo&amp;gt;Subtitle&amp;lt;/div&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=350</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=350"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:47:33Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=349</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=349"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:44:47Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;* navigation&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
** http://www.torchwoodarchives.org|Main Site&lt;br /&gt;
** Document_Library|Library Home&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:SSEU Stories|SSEU Stories&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:Authors|Stories by Author&lt;br /&gt;
** randompage-url|randompage&lt;br /&gt;
** recentchanges-url|recentchanges&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=348</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=348"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:44:34Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;A HREF=&amp;quot;http://www.suburbansenshi.com&amp;quot; target=new border=0&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_ss_logo.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/A&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
* navigation&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
** http://www.torchwoodarchives.org|Main Site&lt;br /&gt;
** Document_Library|Library Home&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:SSEU Stories|SSEU Stories&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:Authors|Stories by Author&lt;br /&gt;
** randompage-url|randompage&lt;br /&gt;
** recentchanges-url|recentchanges&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=347</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=347"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:32:30Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;A HREF=&amp;quot;http://www.suburbansenshi.com&amp;quot; target=new border=0&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_ss_logo.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/A&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
* navigation&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
**&lt;br /&gt;
** http://www.torchwoodarchives.org|Main Site&lt;br /&gt;
** Document_Library|Library Home&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:SSEU Stories|SSEU Stories&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:Authors|Stories by Author&lt;br /&gt;
** randompage-url|randompage&lt;br /&gt;
** recentchanges-url|recentchanges&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=346</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=346"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:32:00Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
* navigation&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
**&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;A HREF=&amp;quot;http://www.suburbansenshi.com&amp;quot; target=new border=0&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_ss_logo.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/A&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
** http://www.torchwoodarchives.org|Main Site&lt;br /&gt;
** Document_Library|Library Home&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:SSEU Stories|SSEU Stories&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:Authors|Stories by Author&lt;br /&gt;
** randompage-url|randompage&lt;br /&gt;
** recentchanges-url|recentchanges&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=345</id>
		<title>MediaWiki:Sidebar</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=MediaWiki:Sidebar&amp;diff=345"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:31:26Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
* navigation&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;A HREF=&amp;quot;http://www.suburbansenshi.com&amp;quot; target=new border=0&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_ss_logo.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/A&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
** http://www.torchwoodarchives.org|Main Site&lt;br /&gt;
** Document_Library|Library Home&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:SSEU Stories|SSEU Stories&lt;br /&gt;
** :Category:Authors|Stories by Author&lt;br /&gt;
** randompage-url|randompage&lt;br /&gt;
** recentchanges-url|recentchanges&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=344</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=344"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:23:28Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=343</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=343"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:22:55Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=342</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=342"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:22:35Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_info.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=341</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=341"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:18:54Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-left:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black; border-right:4px solid black; border-top:4px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
NOTES:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=340</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=340"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:17:00Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_accessed.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
NOTES:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	<entry>
		<id>https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=339</id>
		<title>Document Library</title>
		<link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://node001.lib.torchwoodarchives.org/index.php?title=Document_Library&amp;diff=339"/>
				<updated>2014-11-16T20:14:22Z</updated>
		
		<summary type="html">&lt;p&gt;Dr. Xadium: &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;hr /&gt;
&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE BORDER=0 CELLSPACING=10 CELLPADDING=10 WIDTH=100%&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wiki_newentry.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
type=new   &lt;br /&gt;
count=10 &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DynamicArticleList&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;HTML&amp;gt;&amp;lt;IMG SRC=http://torchwoodarchives.org/gfx/wikimain.png&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/HTML&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;DIV style=&amp;quot;font-size:9px; width:274px; text-align:left;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Logged into node001.lib.extranet.japan.torchwood.org.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Current System time is {{CURRENTTIME}} {{CURRENTDAYNAME}}, {{CURRENTMONTHNAME}} {{CURRENTDAY}} {{CURRENTYEAR}} UTC. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;credentials verified.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;number of datafiles in subnode cleared for access is &amp;lt;B&amp;gt;{{NUMBEROFARTICLES}}&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;B&amp;gt;All data on this secured extranet is CONFIDENTIAL to the Torchwood Institute and may not be disseminated without prior authorisation pursuant to the Official Secrets Act.&amp;lt;/B&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/DIV&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD VALIGN=TOP style=&amp;quot;border: 1px solid black;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Most Viewed Stories:&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TopTenPages offset=1&amp;gt;10&amp;lt;/TopTenPages&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
NOTES:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is now a rough [[Upload Guide]] available for your use to format stories consistently in the wiki. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you put in new stories that are not SSEU for now please add links to [[Uncategorized Stories]] until we can sort them, so they can be found.  &lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
To do:&lt;br /&gt;
Organization / Beautification&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Other continuity categories. &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;Upload Template creation.&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Uploading guide / Best Practices&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Infobox Template&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;S&amp;gt;&amp;lt;BR&amp;gt;Extensions to show recently Added / Changed pages&amp;lt;/S&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TD&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TR&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;lt;/TABLE&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
 &amp;lt;/CENTER&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;</summary>
		<author><name>Dr. Xadium</name></author>	</entry>

	</feed>