It took Aurara and Kilshraya nearly 15 minutes to get Stanton calmed down enough to tell everyone how he'd materialized into the middle of the Lounge with an 8 inch blue Fairy hovering next to him.

       The Fairy hissed once at the Sister's and vanished. Stanton stood still for the barest second and suddenly cried. "We have to find Enderheim!" he shouted, his eyes showing white all around. He ran out the door at full speed even though he had no idea where Enderheim was precisely.

        "So this is how they've been hiding," Aurara sounded ghoulish. "Let's gather the others and pay them a little visit, shall we?"

       "We can't," Kilshraya pulled her lower lip in thought. "Not without knowing how to get in there. I saw from his mind that Amok used some special device. We don't have one of those; I don't think."

       "Enderheim does," Aurara said judiciously. "Or knows how to make one."

       "It's late," Kilshraya stood up and stretched, yawning. "I'm going to turn in. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day.

       "What about Amok?" Aurara said. "You saw what Stanton saw just before he came here. They might catch him, kill him even." her brows rose inquiringly.

       "If that were the case, he would have teleported along with Scotty and the Fairy. No," Kilshraya stared at nothing on the wall. "He wants blood. I can feel it. He doesn't want anyone to see."

       "Well, that's a first," Aurara scoffed. "Public humiliation is his specialty."

       "It was something else," Kilshraya frowned deeply, thinking furiously. "Something he said to Stanton. He said the place gave; what was it? Oh! he said 'something' gave him the creeps."

        "We will have to ask him about it when he gets back." Aurara copied Kilshrayas yawn and scratched her ribs. "I'll think I'll turn in too. We'll deal with Amok tomorrow if he's still alive."

 

                                                                              ..................................................................

 

        "We don't have time to be a lollygaggin'," Stanton wrung his hands before a frowning Enderheim. "We have to go and help him. They were tryin' to kill us both."

        Enderheim tossed another piece of jewel crafting equipment into the trash can, his face dark and angry. "A whole battleship, eh? Right down the center?" he looked at Stanton with a mild expression. "And you want to go there? You are foolish indeed, Mr. Stanton. The last place you want to be is within 50 yards of Amok when he's mad. It sounds to me like he's pretty good and riled up. We could not possibly survive."

       "Well, we canna just leave him there," Stanton  stomped his foot in frustration. "He's outgunned 1000 to 1."

       "This is Amok's house, Mr. Stanton," Enderheim said quietly. "We have to allow him to clean it up. If we show up uninvited, horning in on the action, he will be offended. There is much more afoot here than a confrontation between Amok and a gaggle of imbeciles. Amok is defending his right to keep Area 0."

       "Put that way," Stanton said, turning away rubbing his face and neck. "I s'pose ..." his voice trailed off as he shook his head. "It would be nice though," a brave smile trying to rise, "to be there and see that churl Leeki's face when Amok hands him his arse."

       "What are you talking about?" Enderheim scowled. "Leeki's a popsicle 800 million parsecs from here. I put him there myself yesterday."

       "Well, he didna' stay there very long," Stanton growled. "I saw him sittin' at a table heaped with food, drinkin' out of a silver cup, I did."

       "Good." Enderheim sneered. "Let's hope Amok blasts his gruesome head right off his scabby, scrawny shoulders. The Universe will be a better place." he waved disgustedly.

       "Aye," Stanton nodded, "he tole me pretty much the same thing. He said the Sisters would feed him to the fishes for betrayin' em."

       "For starters," Enderheim grunted, picking up another broken tool and tossing it in the garbage.

       "It was the other one that got him really goin', though," Stanton took a deep breath. "He got pretty creative with the swearin' for a while there. If I'da had a pen, I woulda' wrote some of em' down," he laughed shortly.

       Stanton grabbed a side of the garbage can and helped Enderheim to drag it into the corridor.

       "What other one?" Enderheim straightened his robes. "You mean Nahl?" Enderheim was puzzled. "Nahl's nuthin'," he jeered. "The Sister's will want him for sport for the next, well," he shrugged. "Who knows how long they'll toy with him. He's responsible for Galleyandra. If he's only half as stupid as he looks, he'll be smart enough to jump into the closest star and save himself an eternity of real pain."

       "No," Stanton shook his head, his brow furrowed deeply. "It was another a-sittin' next to em'. What did he say his name was?"
Stanton fingered his chin. "Merda? Norla? Mida?"

       Enderheim stopped fidgeting and regarded Stanton with hooded eyes. "It wasn't Morda, was it?" he asked woodenly. "Morda Kaid?

       Stanton snapped his fingers. "That's it!" he cried. "Threw his cup, he did. It's a good thing it was empty, or he would have spilled beer!"

       Enderheim didn't rise to the joke of spilled beer. Instead, he fingered his chin for a moment and asked, in all seriousness, "Mr. Stanton, how long would it take for you to get this station moving?"

        "I could put her ta movin' in a day or two," Stanton rubbed the side of his jaw. "But I canna have her movin' vera fast. The structure isn't finished, and we still have two months o' platin' ta finish. She'd come apart if we tried jumpin' inta D-Space."

       "Do it," Enderheim looked grim. "We need to move. Leeki knows where we are, and he will tell them. I think I know a place we can hide."

        "But what about Amok?" Stanton became animated again, shifting his feet beneath him. "He's all alone and by himself!"

        Enderheim shook his head, smiling. "It will take them some time to bash in that Data Repository. At least a day. That's all the time Amok needs to stack the deck against them. There's a nice workshop the Dwarves used to make new prototypes. I'd bet a new pair of Elf Boots Amok is in there right now working like a maniac."

       "I don't like it," Stanton said stubbornly. "He's trapped like a rat in a trap. There's no way to escape if things head south, which they always do."

       "I don't think you're getting it, Scotty," Enderheim chuckled. "Amok is not trapped in there with them. They're trapped in there with Amok. Now we need this station moving ASAP. Can ya do that?"

       "Aye, sir!" Stanton bounded off, calling over his shoulder. "Don't be a dawdlin' now."

        Enderheim blinked once and grinned suddenly. "I'll try and hurry," he said dryly, chuckling to himself.

                                                                                      ..................................................

       A slight vibration and dull, distant thud woke Amok from his nap with a splitting headache and the back of his neck feeling like he'd been kicked by a Centaur. The leather chair in front of the interface had started out comfortable enough, but now he felt as if every part of him had been beaten.

       Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Amok saw nearly 6 hours had passed. He must have been more tired than he realized. No wonder his neck hurt so much. Vacations are supposed to be a time of rest and relaxation. Between the Sisters' constant bickering, Mr. Stanton's rowdiness, and Zeplynn going off the deep end, he hadn't had a moment's peace since leaving the station.

        Another dull thud reverberated throughout the structure, followed by another. Amok blinked puzzledly, realizing it had been this noise that had woke up.

        A small brown box in the interface was blinking. Someone was trying to contact him. Amok fumbled through his robes for a moment, looking for something. He coughed once, feeling like living proof of life after death. Now, where did that go?

       The brown box kept blinking. Amok, already hungover and cranky, felt a sudden rush of anger rush through him. He got up slowly, painfully to the Stasis Cube, and removed a bottle of water. After several desperate gulps that left him blowing like an ancient whale, Amok sat back down, putting his feet up. He went back to searching through the pockets of his robe as he answered the call.

       Nahl's ruddy, harried-looking face flickered into view. As soon as he saw Amok, his eyes whirled like a kaleidoscope, and he leaned forward, his lips pulling back, revealing his teeth.

       "That's not going to work, Nahl," Amok said in a bored tone. "Not face to face, and certainly not over this primitive network. I'm immune to mind spells. A parting gift from the Djinn, so I might do their work unimpeded by slugs like you and Morda Kaid." he smiled nastily.

       "It was worth a try," Nahl shrugged, his eyes clearing. He sighed as if a parent with a naughty child. "This doesn't have to be difficult, Amok," he said, a trace of sadness evident in his voice.

      "Oh yes, it does," Amok's laugh was filled with sadistic glee. "Your deaths will be legend when the Sister's sink their claws into your vitals for what you did to Galleyandra."

       "It was necessary," Nahl deadpanned. "Without Galleyandra to draw their powers from, they are vulnerable and," he raised an eyebrow. "manageable. If you help us, perhaps you and your friend can do something about what they did to you as well."

       Amok smiled lazily. "Come and pick me up. You know where to find me." he waved flamboyantly. "We'll get some buds and some suds and make a party of it."

       Nahl snorted disgustedly, "We're ready for your Djinn tricks." he shook his head. "But our offer is genuine, Amok," he said persuasively, earnestly. "Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you surrender and help us, or the hard way. The hard way," Nahls eyes and voice hardened, "is where we come in there, kick your ass and drag what's left of your carcass to Kurna. The choice is yours."

       "How very generous." Amok smiled evilly. He held his middle finger on his chin and tapped his lower lip with his index finger. "There is a third choice," he spoke musingly. "You can surrender yourselves to the High Ones for judgment. They might be able to petition the Sisters to make some of your deaths quick. But those among you who were at Galleyandra..." he shook his head. "The Sisters' have been squabbling for weeks over who gets to rip into you first."

        Amok took a deep breath. "I will give you one hour," he said, cocking his head, "to make up your minds."

       "We don't need 1 minute," Nahl sneered. "Once we transcend, all this pettiness is at an end! We will no longer be concerned with the physical or the mental. We will rise beyond all that."

       Amoks' eyes filled with high amusement. "Why not just jump into the nearest black hole if you don't want to be concerned with the physical or the mental? I could help you with that right now." he threw his head back and laughed. " I think Greadle is already on his way." he laughed harder.

       "Afraid not," Nahl grunted. "His Snath scooped him. That's him out there now shooting Nova Balls at you."

       "These structures draw their energy from those plasma storms out there," Amok smiled easily. "He's going to be at it for a while unless he gets some help. Lots and lots of help."

       "He's just saying hello," Nahl grinned nastily. He glanced off-screen and nodded once.

       The occasional dull thud turned into a barrage of impacts that sounded like triphammers in a hammermill. Amok stopped laughing and focused on a digital readout. The numbers were ticking down at an alarming rate.

       "We'll be seeing you soon, Amok," Nahl's voice was filled with enormous satisfaction. He reached forward and broke the link with a decisive click."

       Amok's deep chuckle was joined by others, along with some harsh guttural clicks and grunts.

       Amok raised a languid hand. "Patience, brothers," Amok soothed. "We'll let them have their fun. Then, we'll have ours."

                                                                              ......................................................