"The ultimate determinant in the struggle now going on for the world will not
be bombs and rockets but a test of wills and ideas -- a trial of spiritual
resolve; the values we hold, the beliefs we cherish, and the ideas to which we
are dedicated."
				-- Ronald Reagan

"'Son, I am able,' she said, 'though you scare me.' 'Watch,' said I, 'beloved,'
I said, 'Watch me scare you though.' Said she, 'Able am I, son.'"
				-- They Might Be Giants, "I Palindrome I"

Operation: Phoenix, The Dark Half

        by J-Rock, jjr5020@rigel.tamu.edu

# Gustav Holst "Mars, The Bringer of War" _The Planets_

	This really sucks, I said to myself. There we all were, down on the
ground while the Triad of Evil waddled towards us, babbling excitedly about 
which one of us they should kill first. "I want Cerberus's head," the Satanic
Purple Saurian from Hades intoned as he waddled in closer. "I still owe you for
last time."
	"Let's kill the icky Windigo-poo," cried B'Habi B'Hop.
	"I want CyberPyro's skull," said B'Hee J, whipping out a B'Harnium
sword and advancing.
	And there wasn't a damn thing any of us could do about it.
	Well, maybe there was, but I had to do it now or we'd all die horribly.
Summoning every last remaining ounce of my strength (which was like squeezing
blood from turnips, but somehow I managed), I drew my Plasmatronix 2000
Handheld ER PPC and aimed it at the Satanic Purple Saurian from Hades's head.
	As soon as I did that, the Spongin voices in my head screamed even
louder. *Surely you wouldn't want to do that to dear ol' sweet Barney?* they
asked.
	You bet your ass I wish to do that, I responded inwardly.
	*But why?*
	Because he's an abomination who wishes to enslave the minds of
countless billions of people.
	*You shouldn't say such mean things.*
	But what did Malcalypse, Tasha, and so many others die for?
	*They died because they were mean and selfish.*
	No! I thought, by now gritting my teeth while my firing hand trembled.
They fought for a belief, I added, bringing my other hand up to support the
pistol's weight. As I rechecked my aim, the voices rose to fever pitch, trying
to stay my hand. For all you White Wolf gamers out there, this was an awful lot
like trying to snipe at someone with Majesty. Mentally shouting "ENOUGH!!", I
pulled the trigger.
	The cerulean beam clawed forth, like it always did. And it managed to 
come within centimeters of B'Harne's snout before blowing some randomly 
unimportant light fixture to Hell. I slumped back down, by now completely 
spent, watching the pistol clatter to the floor. "Why, Admiral J-Rock!" B'Harne
said, his gaze now fixed on me. "Defiant to the end, hmm?"
	"Don't you know it's bad form to take advantage of people when they're
down?" I retorted. I tried to make my reply sound forceful, but I only ended 
up breathing the words.
	"I think we have ourselves a volunteer... to be skinned alive!" he
growled to the other Triad members. As B'Harne hoisted me into the air by my
soft-suit, my weariness closed my eyes for me. And then I started to reflect
upon just how tragic this whole operation was. Was a near miss supposed to be
the outcome of my last, desperate gamble? Was this how the Jihad was supposed
to go out?
	*It was doomed anyway.*
	Oh, do shut up.

# Pat Benetar "Invincible" _"Legend of Billie Jean" soundtrack_

	Suddenly, their voices of glee turned into those of disbelief and
abject terror. "No!" shouted B'Hee J. "No!!! Not now!" B'Harne said, his voice
briefly catching in his throat. "Not here! Not when we're so close..." B'Habi
B'Hop said, her voice trailing off. B'Harne found his voice again and shouted,
"Not you! Don't stop us from this!" as he dropped me to the floor.
	A strangely familiar voice said, "It is dishonorable to kill the
powerless, B'harne." Didn't I hear that voice on TV once?
	"You won't stop us!" the Little Yellow Pubic Louse of the Airwaves
yelled.
	"I won't have to," the voice replied.
	I opened my eyes to find a large drink cup in my hand. Experimentally,
I took a sip of what was inside. Mmm, McDonald's chocolate shake. I continued
sucking away, amazed to find my strength returning! Getting to my knees,
pausing only to retrieve my pistol, I took a look around. The same thing that
had happened to me was being repeated all around the room, each one of us
looking and feeling better than we had in weeks.
	Then I caught a glimpse of our mysterious benefactor. He looked like,
well... let's be honest and say that he looked like a big lump of purple mashed
potatoes whipped into a peak shape. Now add arms, legs, and the Dobermenschen
in our party reverently kneeling before him. I must admit that I had never seen
Grimace in person before, and normally I wouldn't be in awe of any visitation
from him. But after what just happened, it was hard _not_ to act like a
star-struck fanboy in his presence.
	"We'll destroy you!!!" B'Hee J shouted.
	"I wouldn't say that," Owsen noted, interrupting him.
	"Surprise!" CP added as he got to his feet.
	The assembled Jihaddi drew their own swords and other assorted weapons.
I simply raised Da Sawblade in the air, revved it, and pointed it at the Little
Yellow Pubic Louse of the Airwaves. "B'Hee J!" I cried. "Let's do lunch!"
	"Go, my children," Grimace said in a strangely calming voice, not
unlike a mother would use when her children were being good. "Slay the foul
demon and corrupter of children. He is without a soul and consumes the innocent
in hopes of making his own from their misery."
	"You lie!" B'Harne screamed, looking for an escape route.
	"B'Harne," Grimace chided, "you destroy hearts and minds out of
jealousy for those who have what you do not. It is indeed just that my children
summoned me here so I could help them rid the universe of you."
	"Well," B'harne giggled as he reached for something around his neck,
"we'll just have to see about that..."

# Megadeth "Sweating Bullets" _Countdown to Extinction_

	Another blinding radiance stole our vision once again. When it died
down, ten people had materialized, forming a line in front of the Triad of
Evil. They all looked familiar somehow, except for this one guy in a purple
and green battlesuit with a White Ranger symbol on the left breast. He had
hair the color of dried straw, and his brown eyes had the look of 
sweetly-retarded amusement about them. In his hand, he held a nasty-looking
machine pistol, and there was a sword strapped to his back. I then realized 
that I was regarding a near-perfect duplicate of myself!
	"Looks like the odds have changed," sneered B'Harne.
	"What the hell?!" Cerberus asked.
	"Ditto," I noted.
	"Now, _my_ Jihaddi," B'Harne laughed in his goofiest voice. "Help my
cousins and I kill these... vermin and their pathetic 'lord'."
	The Samhain dupe (whose name, like his brethren, will be prefixed with
Not- to avoid confusion) said, "Praise be unto you, Lord Barney."
	"This is a slight tactical problem," Owsen noted.
	That is the Understatement Of All Time, I thought. We have a hard
enough time disrupting them with this much strength. With the addition of
these... doppelgangers, the odds swung sharply toward the Great Satan of
Backstage Fondling.
	"Well, let's do some killing," B'Harne said, laughing like a madman
as he advanced with his Jihad. We're really screwed now, I thought before
strong winds cleared the leftover smoke.

# "Flower of Life (Regis Theme)" _Robotech Perfect Collection_

	A thunderous voice echoed in all of our heads: [You are not to
interfere in the Challenge of X'hiouluq'x!]  A Lizard whose presence was
ancient and powerful enough to make God sit up and take notes materialized in
the center of the room, interposing herself between our group and B'Harne's.
Unlike any other Lizard we had seen, she wore a set of WOW-that's-*white*
robes, which lightly scraped the ground as she turned slightly towards the
Triad and their faithful.
	"WHAT?!?!?!" B'Hee J screamed in utter disbelief.
	"Where did the Cloud go?" B'Harne yelled. A fortunate side effect of
the winds was that it dispelled the Purple Cloud, silencing the Spongin voices
that were jabbering in our heads for longer than we wanted to remember.
	[Before you is the most sacred test of a warrior,] the Empress sent,
radiating an overpowering sense of calm and tranquility. [You, your kin, and
all other outside forces shall not disturb this battle.]
	"You BITCH!!!!" B'Hee J shouted, charging for the Lizard Queen with
his sister hot on his heels. "You've turned agains--"
	At that moment, the Empress performed a dance of death the likes of
which had never been seen before, nor what I would like done to me. It was as
if she flickered: One minute, the Little Yellow Pubic Louse of the Airwaves
was running hell bent for leather at her. The next, he was blown backwards with
a nasty incision crossing his torso from left hip to right shoulder. She stared
icy daggers at B'Hee J for a second, then ran B'Habi B'Hop through with the
sword she had used.
	Waves of elemental harm crashed over the Yellow Evil one, bathing him
simultaneously in fire, ice, electricity, some kind of energy, and acid. The
latter poured over his throat, silencing his pained cries. The anicent Lizard
let go of her weapon, savaging Short, Green, and Irritating's face and neck
with claw swipes before turning her attentions to the chest, rending it in two
more swipes. A wicked roundhouse kick the likes of which would make P-Chan pay
attention sent B'Habi B'Hop's battered body toward the Satanic Purple Saurian
from Hades and his Jihad.
	[Interference will not be tolerated.]
	Silence reigned as everybody tried to reconcile their view of the
Empress as a calm, rational being with the brutal display of ass-whuppin' they
had just witnessed. B'Harne was the first to speak: "Heh... well... Since
you're _so_ insistent..."
	"I hate to sound like a doofus, but what is this Challenge of
X'hiouluq'x?" I asked, haltingly trying to pronounce the last word without
mangling it severely.
	The Empress turned to face us. [The rules for the Challenge are
simple,] she sent. [You must fight your opposite to the death, and no
slugthrowers or energy projectors can be used. Magick and psionics may be used,
as long as they only target you or your opponent. If you finish your fight
early, you cannot assist anyone else who is still fighting. Beyond that,
anything is possible.]
	As she was sending this, a grey-robed Lizard on each side silently
excused herself and began to collect everybody's guns, putting them in a pile
near their owners' respective patrons. As soon as the Empress stopped sending,
they moved to a few steps behind them.
	As the Empress stepped off to one side of the room, I looked across the
way at Not-J. He had pulled his own sword out, and was executing a poorly-
conceived sentai pose with it. Although it had some serrations for about six
inches on both sides of the blade near the tip, it was still a conventional
sword. Nothing like Da Sawblade. I just took one look at him and thought to 
myself, "There, but for the grace of [INSERT RANDOM DEITY HERE], go I." I 
briefly entertained the possibility that all nineteen other combatants were 
thinking the same thing before pushing it aside. Now was not the time to take
notice of irony. It was time to go to war.
	[Then the combat begins!] the Empress sent, banging the bottom of her
staff against the floor. Immediately, Not-J came rushing toward me, yelling
"DIE, YOU FAST-FOOD PUSHER'S SLAVE!!" while swinging his sword at me, looking
for the quick kill..

# Queen "Gimme The Prize (Kurgan's Theme)" _A Kind of Magic_

	I sidestepped the wild overhead slash and pinned his sword in place
with Da Sawblade. "Clumsy move," I said. "You're making me look bad." Not-J
simply unloaded a roundhouse left into my jaw, staggering me and breaking the 
corps-a-corps position I had him in. He swung again, and this time our swords
actually clashed as I parried the blow adroitly. Pressing my advantage, I
pushed the swords into a classic Errol Flynn bind. "And another thing: Grimace
may be a fast-food hawker, but if I were to revere him as much as the Dobes do
(which I don't now, but that may change), I would do so out of my own free 
will," I growled. "Which is more than can be said for your Lard and Master."
	"You don't get it, do you?" Not-J asked, pushing me off him. "Fast food
is all greasy and bad for you. I'd rather have a Healthy Snack any day!" And
with that, he snuck his sword's tip past my defenses and drew a line about two
inches long down my left forearm, near the wrist. The pain from that was even
worse than usual! The burning told me that whatever his sword's made of is the
B'HarneWorld equivalent of Jihaddium, which would sear the flesh of all
anti-B'Harnates. Not Good.
	"Dirty pool, doppleganger. I like it," I said, faking a thrust to his 
left before tearing a similar gash through his upper right arm. "I'm not about 
to dispute the value of nutrition with you, but the deal with the UnHellthy 
Snacks (tm) is to show our defiance of your boss's attempts to tell us what to 
eat."
	"Defy this!" Not-J shouted, swinging his sword towards my waist, which
I barely managed to jump over. For five minutes, the fight continued in this
manner, with each of us pulling every swordplay and dirty infighting trick we
knew. Aiming for wrists and knees, "butcher boys", almost nothing was sacred.
At length, the two of us stood a few feet away from each other, breathing
heavily with cuts covering a sizable portion of our frames. "You give up?" 
Not-J asked. "Are you willing to yield to the almighty power of Barney?"
	"Hardly," I said with a sneer. "I don't yield to cheaters."
	"Oh, don't give me that sanctimonious hogshit with the Number Limbo!"
Not-J cried as he thrusted experimentally, probing my guard. "There is such a
thing as cheating in favor of having a good time, you know."
	"If that was so, then how come he had the kids turn their backs while
he raised the bar?"
	"WHAT?! I-I don't believe you!" I had touched a nerve.
	"Wait 'til I get going! You see, B'Harne has the stink of cheater all
around him. It's in almost everything he does. Take the amount of troops sent
against us, for example. He doesn't move against us until he has at least
three-to-one odds in his favor. Now normally, that's not so bad. But when you
factored in the X'hirjq, who are superior to mankind physically _and_ 
technologically, the ratio _did not change!_ Makes me wonder if he needs a 
nuclear warhead to rid his house of termites..."
	"That's not necessarily cheating," Not-J said, pressing me into a bind
for once. "That's tactics."
	"More like excessive tactics, if you ask me," I answered, pushing him
back almost ten feet away to land on his kiester. "But what happened today
was probably the most glaring example of B'Harnate cheating to date. It is so
brave of him to try to kill the ten of us when we are down and helpless. And
just when it approaches some semblance to a fair fight, he has to bring you
in."
	"Reinforcements, that's what we were... Yeah, that's it." His
arguement was falling apart. Time to finish him off. But before I could do
that, I felt a deep stabbing pain in my left leg! Looking down, I saw Not-J's
sword sticking out of my thigh, and Not-J himself standing up at the point from
where he had thrown it. As I collapsed, dropping Da Sawblade, I thought, 
"Stupid stupid stupid! You took your eyes off him for a second, and it might 
just have cost you your life! You know yourself better than that!"
	"Now who's talking about three-to-one odds?" he bellowed, cackling
madly. "Ten-on-three wasn't that much more fair, as I recall. Ooh, Barney's
gonna be so proud of me when I kill you.." His voice trailed off into a
chortle. Time to play that trump card now, although the circumstances have been
changed from confidence to desperation. Gathering a breath, I pulled out the
sword and threw it down beside me. With my next breath, I said:
	"Well, now there you go, trying to seek B'Harne's approval again. And
it's the same for every Hellthy-Snack-eatin', Dark-Hymn-singin', puke-purple-
wearing minion out there. What makes you so special?"
	"Barney says I'm special! That should be all you need to know!"
	"Which brings me to the crux of my arguement: groupthink. You are so
dependent on Barney that you've sacrificed your thoughts to him. Have you had
one thought that you could call your own? No? Then picture this: did you ever 
have one of those days when you felt that someone in your group was so full of
shit?"
	"No, because Barney says it's not nice to think like that."
	"You just proved my point. B'Harne preaches that the group is more
important than the individual. In reality, the truth is that a group is only as
good as the individuals that make it up. And did you notice that everything
you're saying is 'Barney this' or 'Barney that'?"
	"What's it to you?"
	"I'm trying to tell you that you're an intellectual cripple who can't
think for himself! You don't do it, say it, or think it unless B'Harne says you
can!" Not-J's face started to boil with rage. "It's almost as if your entire
life has been planned for you, and you'll spend it slavishly doing what you're
told. And you know damn well that whatever you can do, B'Harne can do better
with a wave of his hand! Where's the incentive to do anything? Huh? Tell me
that!"
	"You're lying! Barney's smile is all I need!" He was standing over me
now, almost within reach of his sword.
	"No, I'm not lying, just cluing you in to the harsh facts of life. Just
what do you think will happen to you when B'Harne doesn't need you anymore? 
You'll be cast aside, just like all the others. B'Harne doesn't care about you,
he just wants to use you to help him brainwash people until he becomes Supreme 
Dictator of the World!  And this from the dinosaur who claims to embody love!
Now do you see why your cause is doomed?"
	"Let me let you in on a secret," Not-J said, adding a kick to the
stomach for emphasis. "I don't care what you think. Because I'll be the only 
one walking away from this spot!" As he bent over to pick up his weapon, I 
thought "It's now or never." Placing my fingertips on the sword's blade, never 
minding the damn burning, I slid the sword eight feet along the floor, away 
from his grasp. Before he could express any emotion but surprise, I took him to
the floor with a cleverly timed leg-sweep, adding a boot to the kidney to keep
him down until I could get to my feet. 
	Using Da Sawblade to help myself up, I saw Not-J on his hands and 
knees, crawling towards his sword. I brought Da Sawblade over my head in a
two-handed grip, looking to deliver the final blow. Not-J turned to look at me
like a deer caught in oncoming headlights before his face fell and his 
shoulders sunk in resignation.
	"There can be only one!" I grated, bringing Da Sawblade down across his
neck, severing the head from the body, which collapsed like a marionette with
its strings cut. The head bounced once, and rolled to a stop next to his sword.
Sinking to my knees, I breathed a sigh of relief. For me, the Challenge was 
over, and I had won. Using Da Sawblade as an improvised walking stick, I got up
and limped back a safe distance away, watching the rest of the battles unfold. 
So far, no one else had finished, and we all seemed to be winning, from what I
could see. Then I eased myself down into a sitting position, moaning "I need a
vacation."
	Grimace came over next to me with two McDonald's paper bags, setting
them gently in my lap. The first one had my Plasmatronix and my comm-earpiece
in it. As for the second, it held a Quarter-Pounder with Cheese Extra Value
Meal with another chocolate shake. I just sat there and took the rest of the
fights in. That's when I saw a number of alarming things:

	1) Both Windis were laying on the floor, cut-up and barely moving;
	2) JFox was being held by the head by his dark half;
	3) Sheridan, Samhain, CP, and Cerberus were nowhere to be found.

	"What's going on?" I asked.
	"CyberPyro has gone elsewhere in the city," Grimace replied. "The rest
have taken their battles into the meta-planes."
	"That explains a whole lot," I responded sourly, opening the food bag.
	"Nice fight, by the way," Grimace said as I proceeded to stuff a
mouthful of fries in my mouth. "Thanks," I mumbled as he placed a hand on my
shoulder, only to get some of my blood on it. "I'm sorry," he said as he
removed his hand to regard the blood.
	He then stared wide-eyed at the bloodstain, mumbling something like
"I'll be..." I asked, "Is there anything wrong?"
	"Nothing's wrong," he replied. "It's just that your blood looks
different." Blotting my fingers on another cut, I saw that my blood looked
the same as anyone else's. Just what the Hell was he talking about? "Does this
have anything to do with my fight today?" I queried.
	"Uh, nope," he answered. "There's a few strands of your DNA that I'm 
not sure are human." How could he see my DNA just from looking at my blood?
I mentally asked. He's one of the Three that the Maenads always talk about, J, 
I told myself. Don't put it past him.

# 'Weird Al' Yankovic "Everything You Know Is Wrong" _Bad Hair Day_

	"They're not," another female voice answered. "They're Salusian." 
Turning around, I saw an attractive blonde, blue-eyed woman standing there in 
a light brown and black jumpsuit that resembled a uniform of some kind. A red 
cloak hung loosely over her shoulders, but what got my attention were her ears.
An extra set of _cat-like_ ears, to be exact, set a few inches above her 
'normal' ones. "And who might you be?" I asked, prudently leaving out any 
references to her appearance. She was a knockout naetheless, I thought as she
came closer.
	"I am Princess Asrial of Salusia," she replied. Great, I thought. Just 
what we need, _another_ alien race. "My car has an advanced bioscanner on
board," she continued, indicating a '57 Corvette convertible with its wheels
folded down in a standard hover/flying configuration, which was currently
surrounded by blue, yellow, and red-robed Lizards. "That's how I could tell
that you are half-Salusian."
	"Waitaminit, Highness," I said. "What's with this 'half-Salusian' 
business?" This was getting TOO weird. In fact, I half expected the Colonel 
from Monty Python to come in and say that things were getting too silly.
"Wouldn't people here notice your, well, um.." I touched my head where the 
extra ears would be.
	"Maybe I can explain," said a rather ordinary looking guy, about my age
or younger, as he stepped forward. "This isn't Asrial's true form. In her true
form, she doesn't have the human ears, and she's furry. She had to undergo some
process to assume this form that you see before you."
	"I understand some of it. After all, it wouldn't do to cause a panic
among the populace. But if I'm half-Salusian, then why do I still look human?" 
I asked.
	Asrial said, "In the past, our body transformation technology could 
make one nearly indistinguishable from a human or any other race. In fact, you 
could say that it worked too well. Naturally, the other powers in the galaxy 
feared the espionage applications of this technology. One thing led to another,
and now Galactic law states that some distinctive feature must be worked into 
all body transformations. Hence, the ears. As for you, your Salusian ancestor 
must have come to Earth before the law was passed."
	My head was spinning. I now knew less about my origins than I had
previously thought, which will throw anyone for a loop. I mean, you live your
life thinking you're human. To suddenly find out you're not quite human rocks
you to the very core of your being. "Looks like some research is in order," I
said after a moment's pause to collect myself. "What about you? What brings 
you here?"
	"It's a long story. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find these 
Lizards' leader and get some answers."
	"No need, Highness." And with that, I rattled off the X'hirjq briefing
(from "How Can Hell Be Any Worse?" -- J-R) to Asrial and her friend. "That's
odd," she said when I'd finished. "If they're out to kill you with numbers and
technology, then why do they still adhere to honor?"
	"I have no idea. I just chalked it up to a racial quirk."
	"If you ask me," the ordinary-looking guy said, "I don't think they're
really out to kill you at all. This looks more like they're testing you
somehow."
	[You have touched upon the truth, Jeremy Feeple,] the Empress sent. She
had been walking toward our group ever since she saw the Corvette land, and now
stood in front of us.
	"How'd you know my name?" Jeremy asked.
	"They're telepaths," I answered. "It's how they communicate."
	"Why have you brought your fleets and armies here?" Asrial asked. 
"Violating neutral territory is a serious offense."
	[I do not care if this offends you. We have our own reasons for being
here.]
	"I am a Salusian of Imperial birth!" Asrial barked. "How dare you evade
my question!"
	[That matters very little to me, Princess Asrial. You have been living
on Earth for the past few years, and I note your concern. But be patient. All
will be explained soon enough.] The Empress turned toward the battlefield.
Everybody but CyberPyro, Owsen, and Morgenna had finished their fights and were
feasting on their Extra Value Meals. I watched the last three fights play out
as I finished my QPC, slightly amused that it was still hot. During this time,
a raven-haired woman in a black Kitana-esque ninja uniform hopped out of the
Corvette and walked up to next to Asrial. "Well, Asrial," she said, "had I
known we'd be just watching fights, I wouldn't have dressed like this."
	"Hang on, Ichi," Asrial said. "This will all be over soon."
	"That's what I'm afraid of," Ichi replied.
	"Pardon me for interrupting, but you remind me of someone I know," I 
said, scooting over next to her. "French fry?"
	"No, I'm fine. Besides, I don't take french fries from strange men."
	"I'm Admiral J-Rock of the TRES Corps. And your name is Ichi, right?"
She nodded briefly. "There," I said. "Now we're no longer strangers." She
chuckled slightly at this before regaining her composure and sighing.
	"Don't worry about her," Jeremy said. "She's always like this around
people she doesn't know well."
	"Speaking of which," I said, "it looks like Owsen's the only one left
fighting." Jeremy stopped talking and turned his attention back toward the
fight. 

****************************************************************************

TWO MINUTES LATER...

	As Not-Owsen's body fell lifelessly to the ground, ending the battle,
the Empress watched it fall before turning to face us. [Excellent,] she sent.
[Our curiosity has been satisifed.]
	"Say what?" I asked, too tired to inject any sort of hostile tone or
flippancy into my words.
	[You triumphed in the Challenge of X'hiouluq'x and our purpose here
has been resolved.]
	"What?! Try that again," JFox breathed.
	"Yeah, what the Hell did that mean?" Owsen demanded.
	[I will explain, as will my peers.]  Lots of Lizards in brightly
colored robes materialized, surrounding the top floor as they seemingly stood
on thin air.

# Moby "God Moving Over The Face Of The Waters" _Everything Is Wrong_

	What happened next is one of those nigh-unexplainable events, but I'll
try to put it into words. Somehow, the sky got darker, until it reached the
color of the *WOW*-that's-black the Lizards used for their armor and equipment.
At the same time, the Lizards' robes started _glowing_. It was almost like
Christmas in a way, all grey and red and yellow and blue.
	Strange music began playing, and soon every Lizard had raised their
voices in an equally strange song. The song itself was a lot like the Force,
permeating us and binding this microcosm of Lizard, Human and Salusian
together. My senses reeled as I found myself privy to just about everyone's
surface thoughts, and my soul intermingled with everyone else's while staying
unchanged. I thought to myself that maybe the Hindus and Buddhists had
something right after all. In my mind's eye, I saw just what brought everybody
to this place: Samhain, reincarnated by the Empress herself to atone for a
breach of honor by X'ehmahr. Sheridan, excused from the hundred years of
torment due disrupted daemons by special status with Khorne. Myself, suddenly
unsure of just what the hell I was, and yet secure in the knowledge that faith
and friends would pull me through this period.
	[This is why we are here,] the Empress sent, her voice distinct yet
blended with the alien music video unfolding before us. [X'hirjq exist to
pursue X'hiouluq'x, the Hunt Mistress, across time, space, and lives.
	[Every action, thought, and deed by every X'hirjq for the past 400,000
of your years has served this one purpose without error. It is, as humans
understand it, religion; the basis of our culture and reason for our survival.
It is what defines us, gives us purpose, and demands our actions.]
	Oh great. We had a holy war declared against us. Asrial's eyes were
blinking like a signal shutter. Salusian society had progressed past the need
for holy wars for so long that such a concept was initially incomprehensible.
Everyone else was just as lost as she was, or dumbfounded by this recent
revelation.
	[To triumph in the Challenge of X'hiouluq'x, to face and defeat the
self, is the greatest task anyone can accomplish. Your will to survive and prey
has been proven.]
	"Still wondering why you came here, I am," Windi asked as the music
accomodated even her bad English.
	[This.] The stars went dark save a constellation of six, which rotated
around a yellow star, suspended above the Empress's outstreched claw.
	"Duuuh," Sheridan said, still not getting any of this.
	"My God," Asrial breathed. Whispering in my ear, she said, "That's a
star map of Earth and the surrounding systems!"
	[This constellation represents the gift of X'hiouluq'x. It is She who
used these stars to teach the First X'hirjq to hunt and find a purpose for her
existence.
	[Your planet orbits the yellow star. X'hiouluq'x demanded we perform
the Rites of Survival for the humans living there.]
	CP asked, "Why didn't you attack earlier? Your technology is millennia
beyond ours, so why not earlier?"
	[Honor does not allow the X'hirjq to attack a non-hostile race.] Ok,
so the X'hirjq are now the Products of Sticking the Cizerack, *Eridani*, and
Python Lizards in a Blender. [Knowledge of Earth has existed in our culture
for over 320,000 of your years, but we observed from our home dimension and
waited for a reason to hunt.]
	"Y-Y-YOU'VE USED ME AS A PAWN?!?!" B'Harne shouted, understanding
finally sinking in.
	[An alliance with the Jihad's enemy granted the opportunity to test
this world with the Rites of Survival. Your schemes against this planet's
hatchlings, B'Harne, are of no concern.]
	"What if we'd failed at the 'Challenge' we just went through?" Morgenna
asked.
	[Then humanity would have become prey to the X'hirjq.]
	Stunned silence reigned once again. "What?" I stammered, speaking for
all of us.
	[To allow a weak species to inhabit this planet would be heresy of the
highest order. We would have cleansed your species from this planet, and hunted
you to extinction.]
	More silence. Having the weight of the world on your shoulders and not
knowing anything about it until its fate is sealed, one way or the other, tends
to do that. Lizards began to shimmer and fade, returning to their ships.
	[Our time here is finished.]
	"Can I kill them all before you leave?" B'harne queried, fingering a
sword he carried. Ichi drew her sword part of the way, her expression saying,
'Try it. Please.'
	[Begone!] the Empress sent in a louder tone of 'voice', teleporting
the Triad of Evil far, far away from here. I couldn't say I blamed her. Our
dark halves tore us up quite a bit, and it would have been rough going even
with Ichi and Asrial pitching in.
	"The phoenix has risen from the ashes!" B'Harne shouted as he was being
forced back into his own dimension. "Watch your bac--" With that, he faded out
of sight.
	"I...." stammered Owsen.
	"Fuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk meeeeeeeee..." I breathed.
	[We now return to our own worlds,] the Empress sent once again, her
body already beginning to shimmer. [We shall not meet again if you remain
strong.] And with that, the last X'hirjq teleported away.
	"Well," Ichi said with a sigh, "this trip's been... surreal. Let's
head home."
	"Yes, I think we should," Jeremy replied. As the Quagmire Crew started
to leave, Asrial turned toward me and said, "It was nice meeting you, J-Rock."
	"The pleasure's been at least 90% mine, Highness," I answered.
	Asrial smiled at this remark and said, "Flatterers. Call me Asrial
from now on, ok?"
	"Gotcha, Highn-- I mean Asrial," I said, dropping the honorific at the
first sign of mock annoyance from her.
	"You're learning," she said as she hopped behind the wheel and fired up
the engine. "You know," I thought aloud as the Vette took off and flew away, 
"I never got her email addy."
	"Worry not, J-Rock. I've a feeling we'll be seeing more of her," Owsen 
said by means of consolation.
	"I just thought of something," Sheridan said. "B'Harne said something 
about the phoenix rising from the ashes. But if anything's risen from the 
ashes, it's the Jihad as a whole."
	"I hear ya," MoHo responded. "Before the Lizards showed up, we've been
wandering around like a headless chicken, looking to find some direction. Who
would've thought that we'd all find it from Grimace?"
	"The Dobermenschen?" I offered, smiling.
	"Very funny," Sam stated. "Seriously, you've just now found out what 
we've known almost from the beginning. You've got to have a larger-than-life
figure to serve as an ideal and/or the antithesis of what you're fighting, 
otherwise you're gonna lose sight of your goal." Somewhere out there, Grimace
musta been smiling wider than usual.
	"You want to know the ultimate irony?" CP asked. "B'Harne brought the
Lizards here to kill us, once and for all. And he damn near did, too. However, 
just as he had us on the ropes, he had to cheat once again. Only this time, the
Lizards weren't standing for it. He may have wanted to destroy the Jihad, but 
he ended up _saving_ it." And he was right. Now that we had faced our dark
halves and won -- regaining our collective focus in so doing -- it would be a 
long time before we lost our way again, if at all.
	Every JihadLinker (tm) in the place began beeping, jerking us out of
our collective reverie. "Well, looks like at least part of JihadNet is back,"
Sheridan observed as he whipped his out.
	"Not much," Cerberus noted. "Only the basics."
	"Well," JFox said, "I hate to state the friggin' obvious, but how are 
we gonna get down from this towering inferno?" Just then, a strong wind blew
through the exposed top floor, followed by the familiar sound of bass pounding
forth from 20-inch subwoofers.

# A Tribe Called Quest "I Left My Wallet in El Segundo" 

	As Bob brought his VT alongside the roof, flashing a V for Victory with
the Mech's off hand, I watched the Maenads in the house react to seeing the
_Easy Money_ for the first time.
	"Oh, my," was all Morgenna could be heard saying.
	JFox chuckled. "It's the PimpMech Plus!" he observed, flashing the
patented JFoxGlov cocked-head smile. :o>
	"Weird, that is," noted Windi. Sheridan and Owsen just stared at it.
	"Nice to see you getting your jollies looking," Bob said over the
external speaker. "But I'm getting some Lizard troopships on my radar that need
killin'."
	I fumbled in the bag for the earpiece and put it back in my ear.
"Negative, Bob," I replied. "Do not, I repeat, do not pursue. They won't be
back for, say, ten thousand years at least."
	"First they come after us, and now you _don't_ want me to chase them?
What's up with that?" Bob asked.
	"Later, I promise." Another fighter came down to the platform edge
where CP stood. "I'm outta here," he said.
	"Where do you think you're going?" Samhain asked.
	"Need I say it?" CP replied before he closed the hatch.
	"No, you don't," Samhain said as the Andromeda sped away into the early
morning night.
	Owsen remarked, "What he said." He recited a teleport spell, whisking
himself away. Cerberus disappeared in a Q-flash, and asthen and daemon followed
shortly thereafter with their own magics.
	"Dammit, I have to walk down the stairs," MoHo said.
	"Bob," I said, "I think we're gonna need some taxi service."
	Bob sighed. "I was afraid you would say that. Look, someone wants to 
say hi to you." But before I could, a pair of small hands cupped themselves 
across my eyes as a female voice said, "Guess who?"
	"Amanda? Maeve? Diana? Winona Ryder intoxicated?"
	"Uh, Amanda's in Waco," Bob said in exasperation. The voice started
giggling. WAITaminit, I _knew_ that giggle. "P-Chan," I said.
	"Right you are," she said, removing her hands as I turned around.
"Looks like you made it through this after all."
	"Wrong," I answered. "We all made it."
	"Now what's gotten into you?" she asked. "You don't normally talk like
that."
	"P-Chan," I said, impulsively putting an arm around her shoulders, "I 
have just been in what was undoubtedly the _weirdest_ battle of my life. Come 
on, I'll tell you all about it." I led her off towards the platform edge but
before we got too far, she lifted my hand off of her with her thumb and
forefinger lightly trying to circle my wrist. "Hold on, cowboy. Let's not get
too giddy, all right?" she asked.
	"Sorry," I said, trying to ignore the chuckles from the Peanut Gallery
as I put my arm back down. "Won't happen again."
	She just looked at me as if to say, "Yeah, right." Shaking my head, I
mumbled, "Just when I thought I could understand the female gender.." We both
managed to sit down in a couple of undamaged office chairs facing the rising
sun before breaking down in raucous laughter that could be heard all the way
back towards the _Easy Money._

# AC/DC "Hard As A Rock" _Ballbreaker_

				   THE END


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