I don't own either Trigun or the characters. Not much to say this time around. Er.. I've got one or two pieces of fanart I'm trying to put up on the site, but it's misbehaving. I'll get to work on that.

***

Ft. Backdraft is located about three hundred iles from December City and two hundred iles from Neo New York, and is surrounded by a town almost large enough to merit being a city in and of itself. The fort provides military protection to both cities and all the surrounding towns. This would be difficult for most garrisons, but Ft. Backdraft managed it. They managed it because most, if not all, of the Cavalry Special Forces was located and garrisoned in Ft. Backdraft.

The current head of Ft. Backdraft, and by extension the officer in charge of Cavalry Special Forces, was General Phillip Braxler, hero of the Neon Wars, widower, father of two. About six feet in height, with very dark skin and graying hair, and features he always thanked God had not been passed down to his daughter.

Currently he was sitting behind his desk trying to figure out how to word his latest request for more money. He chopped off the end of a cigar in a small cigar cutter, lit it, and tried to think of reasons why he should not deal with this request to a January City idiot. A knock at the door provided him with an excellent reason not to do so.

"Come in," he called.

The door opened and Colonel Winchester entered. "Sir, I need to talk to you about something."

"Is it about Captain Bartholomew's transfer? Because the man left on the first Sandsteamer this morning along with his family. I actually think I heard every male in the garrison sigh when they saw his daughter leave." He chuckled. Then he looked more closely at Colonel Winchester's face, locked somewhere between despair and urgency. "What is it?" he asked more seriously.

"It's about your son," Colonel Winchester said.

"Oh God, what has he done now to get up Major Allenby's ass?"

"Be brought up on charges of treason?"

"… Could you say that again, Winne? I thought I just heard you say that my son was being brought up on a charge of treason?"

"He's being brought here as we speak."

General Braxler leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, chewing on his cigar thoughtfully. "This is ludicrous," he said finally.

"Agreed," Colonel Winchester responded.

"When's his trial date?" the General asked.

"Within a day of his arrival. Which shouldn't be any more than two or three days."

General Braxler's eyebrows raised slightly. "That soon? Someone must be strong-arming the courts."

Colonel Winchester nodded again.

"Winne, find out who could make an accusation like this. Check all the officers, short of you and me. Major Allenby, Major Xing, Major Kruz, Major Hunt, Colonel Landers-"

"Colonel Landers, Phillip? I don't think he'd ever be able to do something like that. He's the sweetest natured solder I've ever met."

General Braxler pointed his cigar at her. "Appearances can be deceiving Winne, remember Calanbrough Hill? Someone is trying to get Evans killed, and I damn well want to know who!"

***

Vash and Calamity stood at the edge of town as they watched the massive Sand Steamer chug away. Calamity pulled out a pair of yellow sunglasses with a "w" bend in the earpiece that the man standing beside her had given her so long ago. She slipped them on and turned to Vash. "Was that the right thing to do?" she asked.

Vash nodded. "I can't risk losing anyone else. It's far too dangerous around me. I've already lost a loved one, I can't risk losing another."

"I mean did we have to bound and gag your wife to get her on the Steamer?"

Vash smiled. "I don't think we could've gotten her on any other way."

They turned and started walking back towards the clinic in silence.

"I see you're wearing your trademark red coat again," Calamity said after a while.

Vash shrugged. "Meryl made me. Any way, it feels better than the black one."

"Ya know, red is the color of blood."

"It's also the color of determination and courage."

Calamity looked down at her green coat. "Maybe I should put some red into the outfit," she said.

She suddenly found a pair of red sunglasses thrust in front of her face. "Wanna trade?" Vash asked. "My old sunglasses for these new ones?"

Calamity smiled and removed the tangerine glasses and handed them to Vash. He slipped them on and gave the red glasses to Calamity. "Here, it's not much, but maybe they'll give you the determination you need."

Calamity pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "Why did you give me those in the first place?"

Vash shrugged. "I dunno, I was thinking I didn't need them anymore, and you seemed so impressed at meeting me."

Calamity shook her head. "Who knew that a simple pair of sunglasses would take me this far?"

"It's the little things in life that take us the farthest. The biggest storms are started by a butterfly flapping its wings halfway around the world."

Calamity looked at Vash. "Wow, was that deep wisdom gained through a century and a half of life?"

Vash shrugged. "Nah. I think I got that from a fortune cookie."

***

Wolfwood and Jeremiah sat in the waiting room of the clinic. Wolfwood kept reflexively reaching for his cigarettes, and every time his fingers brushed his pack, Jeremiah smacked his hand away.

"There are sick people here, dad. Can't you see the no smoking signs?"

Wolfwood grimaced and put his hand back down by his side.

The front door opened and Vash and Calamity wandered in. They sat down heavily on a couch and looked over at the Wolfwoods.

"The girls safely on the Steamer?" Wolfwood asked.

Vash nodded. "Yep. Soon they'll be home, safe in December City."

"December City? So you guys already figured it out?"

They turned to see Lelia coming out of a patient's room, wiping her hands on a rag.

"Figured what out?" Vash asked.

"Where your brother's going," Lelia answered.

Vash raised an eyebrow. "You figured that out?"

Lelia put the rag down and nodded. "It's kind of obvious when you think about it. Me and Roger talked it over last night. This doomsday device of his, it needs a lot of Plants to work, right? So naturally he's going to go to the place with the most Plants he can connect to it. What place has the most usable Plants? The Second City, December."

"… December?"

"December."

Vash and Wolfwood sprang up to find Jeremiah and Calamity blocking their path. "What are you two going to do? Run after the Sand Steamer? Radio in to tell them that the most wanted man on the planet and his dead friend want to get their girlfriends off?" Calamity asked.

Wolfwood stared into Jeremiah's eyes. "She's just not my 'girlfriend', she's also your mother. Aren't you worried?"

Jeremiah nodded. "I am worried, but running after her without thinking isn't going to solve anything. You're my father, you're supposed to teach me to act rationally. I know it's hard for you to do this, missing twenty years of your life, but act your age!"

Wolfwood breathed deeply, then sat down on the couch. Vash sat down beside him and put his head in his hands. "God, no matter what I do my loved ones are in danger. Am I not meant to save them all?"

"No," Lelia said, "you're not."

She walked up to Vash and hit him over the head. "You know, the species arrogance your brother has seems to have passed on to you as well. You think you're humanity's defender against your brother's mania, but we can defend ourselves pretty damn well! I grew up in a fort, surrounded by soldiers. I know for a fact that humanity can defend itself if it knows about the threat it faces! Have some trust in us for once. They'll stay alive long enough for you four to come riding over the hill, so stop worrying and mount up!"

She turned on her heel, and stomped out of the waiting room, stopping to grab the rag and throw it at Vash's face.

Vash dodged it and the rag flew harmlessly behind him. "Now what?" he asked.

Calamity stroked her chin. "Tell me Vash, aside from jailbreak, have you ever actually intentionally committed a crime?"

Vash shook his head. "Not that I remember, no."

Calamity smiled. "Alright then. Tonight, we're going to make an honest outlaw of you."

***

Millie sat in the second-class lounge, Meryl still bound and gagged beside her. She turned to her old friend. "Will you promise to behave? I'll take off the ropes and the gag."

Meryl nodded. Mille removed the ropes and stepped back and Meryl pulled of the gag, fully expecting an outburst of anger. To her surprise, Meryl slumped back into her chair, despondent.

"He's got her. He's got her, and I can't do anything about it."

Millie put her arm around Meryl's shoulder and hugged her.

"Something wrong ladies? Perhaps I can help?"

Meryl and Millie looked up to see an old preacher dressed in black. A low black hat threw his face partially into shadow.

"No, we're fine thank you," Meryl said.

"Are you sure? The Lord can help you in your darkest hour."

Meryl nodded. "No, we don't need to burden you with our problems.

The old preacher nodded. "Well then, if I can't help you, perhaps you can help me. You see," he said as he removed his hat, revealing a pair of glowing eyes. "I wish to purchase some insurance."

Meryl's eyes widened and she reached for one of her derringers. Suddenly, the pair found themselves looking down the barrels of two cross-shaped pistols. "Don't. You may be fast, Miss Stryfe, but I assure you that I am much faster." Father Danil motioned with one of the pistols. "Brother Joseph! Brother Elija! Escort our guests to the hold." He turned around and glared at the two men who had suddenly appeared behind him. "Make sure you take good care of them, especially you Elija. I didn't think it was worth the effort to save Sisters Mary and Amy. I did not want them dead."

"She was unworthy Father. All are unworthy of the Lord's grace."

***

"Good morning, little spiderfly."

Nikki's eyes opened to see a face that looked eerily like her father's. Yet. it was cold, cruel, hateful. This man's hair was not the spiky blonde locks that she had pulled as a baby, instead it was a short platinum blonde, with a streak of black running along the back and sides.

Nikki looked up and took stock of her surroundings. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her legs tied together at the ankles, and a black strap bound her to the metal ledge she was lying on. The bare metal room shook up and down and Nikki felt a sense of movement. She could only assume that she was in a truck of some sort. Across from her, Knives sat on a wooden coffin.

"We've never been properly introduced," he said. "I'm your uncle Knives."

Nikki's eyes narrowed.

"I can see you're angry at me. Well, I don't know if I can blame you. I have tried to kill your parents at various points. But I'd like to put that all past us."

"You'd like to…what?"

"Put that all past us. You see, when I first heard about your existence, I must admit I acted a trifle… irrationally. I thought that you must be an abomination, a damnation in the eyes of nature."

"I take something changed your mind?"

Knives chuckled. "A few things. Your actions when the young Cavalryman had his knife at your throat. The way you acted. The idea that maybe your spider of a mother had drilled some proper realism into you. In other words, I began to see potential."

"In me? Please. I thought you saw me as 'tainted'."

"Maybe. But you might have more potential then Vash. He's gone for good if I can't convince him by now. So maybe you. Maybe I can still get you to see it my way. You've seen what humanity can do. You saw the mass graves at Lasuken, you saw how The Flock acts, you had Evans' knife right at your throat." He stood up and leaned close to Nikki's face. "So, are you willing to try and see it my way?"

Nikki spat in his face. "Screw you, I'm not what you're looking for."

Knives wiped the saliva off with his sleeve and shook his head. "Garbage. A pathetic hybrid that never should've existed, just as I thought." He reached for a glass and pulled out a knife. He turned Nikki over and slashed the knife across her palm, draining the blood into the glass. When it was a tenth full, he pulled the glass away and placed it on the ledge. He put his hand on Nikki's head and closed his eyes for a moment. Nikki grimaced as her cut sealed itself. A small streak of black appeared in her bangs.

"What did you do? Can you control people with your mind?"

Knives smiled. "Only other Plants, spiderfly. It's more of a connection than anything. But that doesn't really matter to you. You see, now that you've refused me, I'm only keeping you alive for two reasons. The first is an insurance against the almost certain interference of my brother. The other… well." Knives picked up the glass and rapped his knuckles on the coffin lid. It slid open and Martinez's hand reached out and grabbed the glass.

"He's called the Bloodsucker for a reason."

***

Lelia slid the glass off the picture frame and put the snap shot against the glass on the other side. The front door opened and Roger stepped in.

"Hey hon. What was so important that we needed to be roused from our beds at two in the morning?"

Roger sat down and began removing his boots. "It was from the car dealership, the one by the church. Seems someone had swiped two motorcycles."

Lelia slid the glass cover over the photograph and placed the frame on a shelf. Calamity, Nikki, Evans, and Jeremiah grinned back at her.

"Where did that photograph come from?" Roger asked.

"I found it in Calamity's room. Seems they all went for a midnight stroll. Do you think you'll ever find out who stole the motorcycles?"

Roger shook his head. "Sadly, I think this case will remain forever unsolved."

Lelia smiled. "Shame to put a black mark on your record like that."

Roger smirked. "I think I can cope."

***

Officially, word had not been passed down beyond the top brass that Evans was being brought back to fort in chains. Of course, the laws of gossip were still in effect, and the garrison and the surrounding town knew about it by the time Evans arrived.

Off in the shade, Colonel Landers and Major Allenby watched with interest. Evans was under Major Allenby's command, his direct command until a replacement for Captain Bartholomew could be found.

Short, stocky, clean-shaven with a crew-cut, he followed regulations, went by the rules, and in general drove those under his command out of their minds. He could be found every morning up before everyone, his uniform pressed so well that the men could shave on it's creases. The two books by his bedside table were a novel of historical fiction and the Cavalry regulations book.

Colonel Landers was there because he was a man that loved his troops. Each and every one of them, personally. He knew all of them, knew their families, and was always there with a smile and some extra food for those on guard. Aside from being Allenby's opposite in personality, he was his opposite in appearance. A bear of a man, at least six feet seven inches, he had a nicely trimmed moustache and braided hair down to the top of his back. The only book he had by his bedside table was the Bible.

"You don't seriously think he did it Allenby?"

Allenby shook his head. "Evans may be many things sir: brash, hard-headed, disrespectful; but a traitor he is not."

The military car rolled into the middle of compound and slowly braked to a halt. The doors opened and three guards emerged. After a second, Evans stepped from the back seat, his hands in chains, a blindfold around his eyes. One of the guards took Evans hands and started to lead him towards the stockade, while the other two kept the barrels of the rifles fixed on his head.

A fourth soldier got out of the car and approached General Braxler, who was standing in the middle of the compound. He handed him a clipboard and a pen. General Braxler signed off on the transfer form and threw it back at the soldier, who got back in the car and drove off to the garage.

"When can I see him?" General Braxler asked, staring at the ground.

"You can't sir. He's on trial in a matter of days. You aren't allowed to see him," Colonel Winchester said.

"God damn it, Winne! This isn't some random Cavalryman, this is my son! When can I see him?"

Colonel Winchester grabbed him by the arm and slowly lead him back to the interior of the fort. "I know sir. He's your son, and you can't make special exceptions for him. You haven't before, and you can't now. He wouldn't accept them."

***

"Is it really safe to just leave him in that cell?" a guard asked as he watched the door to Evans cell close.

"It's fine," his superior responded. "He can't actually teleport, it's just an illusion. A physical barrier stops him just like anyone else. And unless he's gained the ability to bore through six-inch solid steel, he'll be staying there."

Evans smirked as he heard the two. He had no intention of leaving. The door slammed shut, and he found himself alone in his cell. A bed, a toilet, a sink, and a mirror was all that he got. Evans supposed that he was lucky to get a mirror.

He heard the clop-clop of the guards' feet as the paced back and forth. Evans sighed. That's probably the only sound I'm going to hear for the rest of my life, assuming they let me off with life imprisonment.

I wouldn't say that so quickly Evans. You'll always have us.

Evans grimaced. "Fuck off."

Now, now son. Is that any way to talk to your mother? Rai-Dei said.

"My mother's dead," Evans said, clutching his head.

Of course she is, Midvalley said. I killed her myself.

Evans slowly stood up from the bed and stumbled over to the sink. He turned on the faucet and threw some water in his face. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. He looked up into the mirror. In the reflection, three people stood behind him.

The first was a man in a dark suit and a pink shirt. He had a saxophone hanging from a shoulder strap. In front of him was a man dressed in loose fitting clothing with a fringed vest over it. A sword hung on his hip. In front of him, closest to Evans, was a woman in a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat. A metallic eye-patch covered her right eye. She leered over Evans shoulder in the reflection.

Now why do you need to resign yourself to a life in prison? She asked. Just use the Demon's Eye the moment they open the door and leave this place. It reeks of the Cavalry trash.

Evans reached up and gingerly touched his left eye. Even the skin around felt different. Almost scaly. "Because you three would make me kill a couple of dozen people on the way out."

Ahhh, so that's why you want to be locked up in here. You want to keep us locked away from humanity where we can't harm anyone using you. How noble. Midvalley said.

But hardly befitting a warrior. You're just running from us. Instead of facing us, you hide in a cell and just ignore us for the rest of time. Rai-Dei stroked his chin. Perhaps if we made you kill more people, we could goad you into actually facing us?

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! Get out of my head!

***

The door opened and Major Allenby stepped into the room. Evans was leaning over the sink, panting. "Well, well. I hardly expected to find you in that position." He closed the door. There was a definitive clink as the guards slid the locks into place.

Evans stood up at attention and saluted. "Major Allenby sir, how may I help you?"

Major Allenby rose an eyebrow. "'How may I help you?' No verbal jab? No snide remark? No cigar smoke obnoxiously blown in my face? Lieutenant, are you feeling alright?"

"Perfectly fine, sir."

Major Allenby shook his head. "Hmm, obviously lying. No matter. I'm here, as you guessed, as your immediate superior to help you plan your defense at the trial."

"Immediate superior? What happened to Captain Bartholomew, sir?"

"He was transferred. Until his replacement can be found, I am the acting commander and your immediate superior. Now, shall we discuss the trial? Have you decided on any defense yet? Insanity might work, if you had actually done it."

Evans looked down at the floor. "I plan to plead guilty, sir."

Allenby walked over to the mirror and began inspecting his uniform in it. "Speak up soldier, I can't quite hear you. I just thought you said that you planned to plead guilty."

Evans looked up at Major Allenby. "I am pleading guilty, sir. I believe that if I plead guilty, they might show mercy and merely sentence me to life imprisonment."

Allenby continued to inspect himself in the mirror. "And why not try to fight it? You might be found innocent."

"What's the point? I'll almost certainly be foun-"

SMACK!

Evans couldn't get any further in his sentence before Major Allenby floored him with a right hook. He stood over Evans shaking his hand. "What. Is. Wrong. With. You. Boy? Usually at this point in the conversation we're screaming at each other over some petty difference over a trivial rule. At this point you should have driven the guards up the wall with your protests that you didn't do it, or at the very least some inane humming or whistling. Also, you're faster than me. Why the hell did you let me hit you?"

Evans slowly stood up. "I'm not allowed to strike a superior officer, and you have every right to punch me."

"You've never let the rules stop you before. Goddamn it Evans, what happened to your backbone? You may have been a snarky, insubordinate, loud-mouthed punk before, but that was better than this whiny incarnation of yourself! I seriously doubt you even know what you are being accused of, but you're willing to give up the ghost so quickly that it doesn't even matter!"

Evans sat on the edge of the bed. "Whatever. I'm better off hanging around in here. It's safer. For everyone. Hell, it's dangerous for you to be in here."

Major Allenby shook his head. "I give up. You obviously aren't going to start listening to me." He turned around and strode for the door. Evans stood up and saluted him as he left.

As Allenby started to bang on the door, he stopped before his fist reached it. "You know why I'm being so hard on you? It's because of your father. Because he's a hero. You have that potential in you as well, did you know that? If you'd just find your spine and quit being such a punk, you could save the world one day. Be like your dear old dad. And I know it's tough, fighting whatever demons you've got in you. Whatever demons only you can see with that eye of yours. And I know it'd just be easier to lock it away and never deal with it again. But you could be a hero. And heroes don't get that choice."

Allenby lowered his hand. "I see you gave away your dog-tags. I remember when I gave mine away. I remember it more clearly than my wedding, when I got them back. Fine Cavalry tradition, giving them away. How would she feel about you, I wonder? Like I said. You could be a hero. You just don't get that choice."

He pounded on the door, which slowly opened to reveal a gun barrel pointing at Evans. Allenby went left the cell and slammed the door.

Well, wasn't he rude? Dominique said.

***

Major Allenby closed the door behind him and sighed.

"I take it didn't go so well?" Colonel Landers asked.

"It's… like he's lost something. Whatever it was that made him into the obnoxious punk he was… it's gone. His fight, I guess. It's gone."

Colonel Landers sighed. "Don't tell General Braxler. Or Colonel Winchester for that matter. It's too much for them to worry about."

Major Allenby saluted. "Yes sir."

***

Later that day, a man met with his troops.

"Understand, lads, that this is our hour. We've been given a chance to do more than the Father ever asked us to. We've been given a chance to take it all."

"But we were told to keep them away from December, and nothing else. Why do this?"

"Because we can, soldier. Because I've smarted too long under the command of a man I could fight rings around. Think of the glory you will be bringing God, by taking down the greatest commander this heretical government has to offer!"

"When do we strike, sir?"

"Tonight."

***

Evans slept fitfully, his parents and Midvalley plaguing his dreams. He wasn't sure if it was really them invading his mind, or whether his tired subconscious could think of nothing but them.

A pounding at his cell door awoke him suddenly. He rolled out of his small bed and walked toward the door. It opened suddenly to reveal more darkness. A shadowy figure thrust something towards him. "Take this!" it whispered. It held a key in it's hand.

"Wha?"

"It's the key to your cell, stupid! Wait until daybreak, then come out and help! They'll think you're still locked safely in your cell!"

"Who will? The guards?"

"No, the insurgents!"

"What insurgents?"

"Just take the damn key!" The figure pressed the key into Evans hand, then closed the door. Evans heard the door locks slide into place.

You do realize who it has to be? Midvalley asked.

Evans looked in the mirror. Five eyes other than his own looked back at him.

Those foolish Christians, somehow trying to find their God on the path of slaughter. Rai-Dei said.

You do the same thing, Rai-Dei. Dominique said.

Yes, but I don't believe that I'm doing it in the name of justice or righteousness.

Why don't you fight off them, like the man asked? We'd be all to happy to help. Dominique said, turning towards Evans.

Evans sat down on his bed, stared at the key in his hands, and tried to ignore the voices in his head.

"Do I have a choice? Was Allenby right? Could I really be a hero?"

***

Light filtered through the bars in the window. Evans stared at it, musing on everything he had heard.

"This isn't you."

"Hardly befitting a warrior."

"What happened to your backbone?"

"You could be a hero. You don't get that choice."

"Hero. You don't get that choice."

"You don't get that choice."

Evans smiled slightly. "Have I been that much of an idiot? Damn, there must be something wrong with me."

He stood up and walked towards the door, glancing in the mirror as he passed.

Leaving, Evans? Decided to fight the good fight? Need a little fighting music to pump you up?

Evans shook his head. "Nah, I think I can handle that myself, thanks."

My son, do you really think you can do it without-

"Don't call me son. You're not my father. My father is a far greater man than you'll ever be."

Now Evans, how can you say that? We're the only family you'll ever really have. They don't believe in you, they think you're a freak. We've always been with you, from the beginning. We're your real family.

Evans stood at the door of the cell, key in one hand, hat in the other. He put his hat on, unlocked the door, then turned to the mirror. He pulled his hat down over his right eye, staring at the three Gung-Ho Guns with his Demon's Eye.

"I already have a family."

He left the cell and slammed it shut.

Midvalley, Rai-Dei, and Dominique stepped from the mirror.

"Does he actually think he can ignore us?" Rai-Dei asked.

"No, I think he thinks he doesn't have to ignore you anymore."

A dark-skinned man stepped through a wall. He was dressed in a Cavalry uniform, with a saber at his side. Like the three before him, he glowed eerily. Two more people stepped through the wall behind him. A woman in a light colored coat and another man in a military uniform, a Lost Technology style pistol at his hip.

"And you would be?" Midvalley asked.

"James Braxler," The man with the saber said. He drew it slowly and pointed it at Rai-Dei.

Rai-Dei's hand flashed down to his katana. He drew it with blinding speed and dashed towards James Braxler, who caught in on his saber. Rai-Dei drew back and thrust the katana forward. James dodged the side and kicked Rai-Dei in the stomach. Rai-Dei fell backwards, flipped back up and brought his sword up above his head, parallel to the ground.

"Who are you?" Dominique asked.

"Didn't you hear my son?" The dark-skinned woman in the light coat asked. "He already has a family."

***

General Braxler stood in the middle of the compound, surrounded by the other officers. They, in turn, were surrounded by soldiers, all of whom were wearing black shirts under their Cavalry uniforms. In a makeshift cell in a corner of the fort, more black shirts held a large group of civilians from the village. A few children were crying for their mothers. One of the black shirts banged on the cell and told them that if they were good little Christians, God would make sure they lived through the day.

"So… this is what it takes to betray your commander and your country," General Braxler said.

"Exactly," a commanding voice said. Colonel Landers stepped onto the battlements and looked down on the officers. "God is the ultimate authority. My allegiance to him supercedes any supposed authority of yours.

Colonel Winchester looked up at the man with hatred, struggling against the chains on her wrists. "And why exactly did God have you do this?"

Colonel Landers smirked. "I don't believe the Father would like it if I told you. He didn't spend so much time integrating my men and I into this garrison just so you could find everything out."

General Braxler leaned over to Major Allenby and whispered, "Do you hear something?"

Major Allenby nodded. He blinked for a second. Did the clouds just jump? "It sounded like whistling. It's gone now."

"Did you recognize the tune?"

Major Allenby grinned. "When Johnny Comes Marching Home?"

They suddenly realized that Colonel Landers and Colonel Winchester were still shouting at each other.

"Winnie! Unless you shut up this instant, I will kill a hostage!" Colonel Landers screamed. He held out his hand and started to chant. A ball of energy formed over his hand and started to swirl around it.

"What hostages?"

Colonel Landers looked towards the cell to find that it was completely empty. "What the…" the energy ball faded away.

Major Allenby looked up at the sky. Yep, the clouds definitely jumped again. "Has anyone besides me noticed that our chains are all cut?" he whispered.

"Major Allenby?" General Braxler whispered.

"Yes sir?"

"Shut up, will you? I'm trying to figure out the opportune moment."

"Shutting up sir."

As Major Allenby watched, the clouds jumped again and Evans suddenly appeared in mid-air in front of Colonel Landers. Before the man could duck, Evans caught him in a spinning back kick. The Colonel flew backwards and rolled to his feet, an energy ball floating above his hand.

"Would now be the opportune moment?" Colonel Winchester asked.

"Winnie, be quiet and take that man's gun."

***

Colonel Landers threw the ball of energy at Evans, who sidestepped it and charged at him, drawing a saber with his right hand. He slashed downward and across at Landers, who jumped backwards and began to chant again.

Evans suddenly disappeared, the clouds jumping again. He appeared behind Landers, who suddenly turned his palm around and shouted. A blast of force knocked Evans backwards. He pushed himself up and chuckled, pulling his hat down in front of his Demon's Eye.

"Not bad, traitor. I assume it was you who steamrolled me into that trial date?"

Colonel Landers nodded. "No hard feelings, but you knew far too much, and you could've brought the Cavalry down on the Flock."

Evans shrugged. "None taken, since that's exactly what I intend to do."

"Not if I kill you first."

Evans laughed again. "You're good, Colonel, and it seems that your magic might even counteract my Demon's Eye. Or maybe it's just because this wall is so narrow that there really is a limited amount of places I can reappear."

"I'm good? No lad, I have God on my side. I'm better."

Evans lifted his hat and stared at Colonel Landers with both eyes. "Oh really? Perhaps you've forgotten something." He raised the sword in his right hand. "I'm left handed." He spun the saber around his right hand, caught it in his left, and pointed it at Landers. "Care to dance again?"

Landers ginned. "Of course. It doesn't matter which hand you attack me with, God will see me prevail!" He held his hands forward. Two massive bursts of energy blasted out of them, obliterating the buildings in front of him. He held his hands down, breathing heavily. There was nothing in front of him. "That oughta do it. Just a pile of ash now. Hell, not even a pile."

Schink.

Landers suddenly felt the cold touch of a metal edge on his neck.

"Care to try again?" Evans voice asked from behind him.

Landers hands trembled slightly as he reached into his pockets. Evans right hand suddenly shot around Landers' side and grabbed his wrist. He twisted Landers' wrist, and a loud CRACK rang through the air. Landers' screamed in pain and dropped the cyanide tablet. "Sorry," Evans said, "you need to tell me where the good Father Danil is going."

***

General Braxler sat on the steps and lit a cigar. His men, after being freed from the barracks, had cleaned up the black shirts rather easily. Colonel Landers suddenly fell next to him. General Braxler calmly drew a gun and pointed it at Landers' head.

"Can I borrow a cigar, dad?"

General Braxler reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigar. "Dad?"

Evans sat down on the steps above him. "Can I borrow a cigar, sir?" He took the cigar and his father's lighter, bit off the tip, and lit the cigar.

Colonel Winchester walked up, her long rifle over one shoulder. "Well, well, what do we have here? A traitor?" She brought her long rifle around and pointed it at Landers' head. "Now what shall we do with you?"

"Now hang on, Winnie," General Braxler said. "I think Mr. Landers' wishes to tell us more about this 'Father' of his who is so close to God and what he's planning to do."

"Screw you, General. I'm not telling you heathens anything. And don't think you can scare me with a death threat. If I die now, I will go to Heaven to be with my Lord and Savior."

"Ahh, perhaps I misspoke," the General said. "I meant to say that perhaps you'd like to tell Major Allenby. MAJOR ALLENBY! SERGEANT SCHRODER!"

Major Allenby and a pale man in his mid-thirties detached themselves from the mess of soldiers who were trying to restore order to the fort.

"Yes sir?"

General Braxler puffed on his cigar. "It's a nice day out. I think you and Sergeant Schroder should take Mr. Landers here for a walk. Be sure to get back in time for the meeting in two hours."

Major Allenby nodded. "Yes sir."

General Braxler put his elbow on his knee and rested his head on his hand. "And it's really quite hot out today, I would remove anything that might possibly indicate that you're associated with the Cavalry, to the point where you would technically be a civilian and not so bound by the rules. Don't worry, I'll swear you in again later."

Major Allenby grinned. "Yes sir. Sergeant?"

"Yessir?" Sergeant Schroder responded.

"Get my pruning shears. And see if you can borrow some Tabasco sauce from the kitchen."

Sergeant Schroder saluted, then ran off. Landers whimpered slightly as Major Allenby dragged him off in the direction of one of the darker corners of Ft. Backdraft.

General Braxler turned around and pointed at Evans with his cigar. "And you, you seem to actually comprehend what's going on. I want an understandable report as to what in God's name is going on, and I want it an hour ago. Feel up to it?"

Evans nodded. "Of course sir." He stood up and started walking towards the fort.

"Evans!" Colonel Winchester called after him. "What kind of threat are we dealing with?"

Evans stopped and looked around. "Omega Class. The end of humanity. One way or another." He put the cigar back in his mouth and smiled. "Nothing we can't handle."

***

Floating above the fort, several ghosts congregated, watching the soldiers clean up. One of them slapped his palm against his head.

"What's wrong?" the woman in the light colored coat asked.

"I was kind of hoping when Phillip married you your kids wouldn't be as… cocky as the rest of us were."

The woman in the white coat smiled. "Evans? Not cocky? Don't be ridiculous. He's a Braxler."

***

Evans: It isn't easy being the child of some legendary figure. Believe me, I know. Even if my father hadn't been one of the heroes of the Neon War, I'd still have to contend with my great-grandfather founding the damn Cavalry. Luckily for me, my father new what it was like to live in the shadow of a great one, and made sure I didn't have to deal with some of the more unpleasant aspects of it. But what about those who grow up in the shadow of not a great hero, but a great villain? Even if that villain isn't the evil one he's made out to be, always hearing your father talked about as a monster has to take a toll on a person. They have to start to wonder, "Am I a monster as well?" Next Chapter: Daughter of a Legend.