'I enter your mind.'

'Wha'?'

'I enter it with ease Walker.'

He wretches. The bridge rebounds with the sound of strange smelling liquid that has just issued from the confused, dazed soldier. The Slyth watches over him, the alien has been waiting long to gain power and this moment, where all crew are incapacitated, is a moment to be seized, that has been planned for.

'Why don't you kill us all?'

'Why Private?'

The great pauses of thought between are distorted more by the sickness of teleport. His strength has left him. Any desire for speed from his plight is quashed. The slight mark of positive thought null in void. He cannot believe something that has been a common experience since childhood- teleporting between school blocks, teleporting to ships in orbit for holidays, teleporting where it is necessary to cut time, that this modern and safe form of transport has suddenly decided to effect him in such a way; an unwelcome Univarian gift.

'You will be fine. I speak your language now. The construction of your language is fundamentally basic. Russian. Chinese. French. Swahili. English. All are challenging in a way that a toy to a child is challenging. Is this bad?'

"Wha'?" Walker attempts to vomit again but fails as his empty stomach refuses, he wipes his mouth of spittle, "how can you be inside my head? What is..this?"

The alien continues to communicate in his head, 'The others cannot be tackled as you. It is a pity. You are like me. I like you. You are a person of much admirable fortitude and maturity. There is something missing within your heart. Open it, see what is within.'

"How can you know what is within? Why I don't know myself," he speaks out loud but it is unnecessary; this becomes clear as his mind is snapped together.

'I have this.'

The Slyth injects his arm with some dodgy looking device. Cutter falls into the alien's thin but powerful arms. Like a father carrying his son, he picks up the soldier's ten and a half-stone body with ease. Dangling to his right, his head lolls, relaxed by the drug administered, a huge quantity.

'What is the purpose of your life human?'

'Don't call me human.'

'What shall I call you Walker? You must have identification.'

'And you Slyth? You...your race desire anonymity. Do they not?'

'This is true. Only for our order of faith. We strive for perfection in the mass and achieve it in death, that being the beginning.'

'A Christian philosophy.'

'Religion. Its doctrines are wide and marked within my planet as on your Earth, there are fundamentals of what may be good; similarities possibly.'

'There are those in the my race who believe an amount of penance should be strived for, to seek purity Slyth...though...little of it matters anymore.'

'Are you without a god Walker?'

'I am.......'

The thoughts slosh over him in a Utopian wave as the Slyth's drug soothes, concocted especially for the super human biochemistry. Walker smiles, wanting to release all thoughts to the alien. Without realizing it he relinquishes a few subconscious ones.

The alien looks at the bridge with a strange desire in his heart.

'Talk to me.'

"What'?" Walker mutters.

'Come talk to me.'
*
The alien drags Walker along the lengthy corridors of the vessel. Upper surface of passageways textured before his eyes as he stares up, smiling, intoxicated. Taken to death? The very thought amuses him.

"Where are we going? Where are we going to go? That is it. That is a bit of a...." his voice saunters off, distracted, whilst he stares now at the hard exterior of the Slyth's head, slanted eyes quickly checking behind it.

He stops, letting go of Walker's leg. His limb lands with a loud clump. The Slyth seems to survey the branch of corridors that opens before them. They are at a junction, which has three leading from it. The alien mumbles something.

Cutter comes round for a second from drugged state, barely having strength to raise his head, "what's the matter? Are we there yet?"

The alien looks down at the supine human form. He bends down, pulling Walker by the lapels of his jacket. A stench of raw meat lies thick on the alien's breath. With one movement it throws him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

A door, solid now blocks off the corridor that they just passed through. The creature attempts to communicate with the computer through telepathy but cannot.

'Human. HUMAN! Tell the ship's computer to put it the way it was!'

"Who are the music makers? We do not know, we only am are..." Walker becomes increasingly incoherent, the drug would kill over a hundred men, with only the smallest amount.

'Walker? Walker get with it! Be as one with the drug. Open your mind. Walker?'

His head rolls to right side as Slyth shifts his body weight. Cutter tries to speak but sparks out completely, still in alien's grip. The Slyth throws him on floor like a sack of spuds. He administers more of the drug.

"CEASE."

The Slyth looks about it aware of the vessel's computer observing him. The alien produces a weapon the size of a child's hand. He points it at a wall.

The computer instantly reacts by firing three lasers at the alien. Speeding across and down, the Slyth evades, dragging Walker with it.

He aims weapon at Walker's head, using him as a shield.

"YOUR LEFT ARM WILL BE SEVERED BEFORE YOU CAN TRANSMIT ENERGY TO THAT FIREARM. IT IS USELESS AGAINST THE INNER SURFACE OF VESSEL'S CORRIDORS. AT POINT BLANK IT WILL NOT CEASE WALKER. THE FIRST SHOTS WERE A WARNING. THE NEXT WILL NOT BE."

The Slyth pulls Cutter closer, right arm across human's neck- ready to break.

"DOUBLE THREAT IS INEFFECTIVE."

The Slyth tightens his grip.
*
"Jesus Christ! l feel like I've been on the piss...fuck," Reed spits vehemently.

"FUUUCK!!!" Wheeler wails.

"What happened?" Ball storms off.

The others revive themselves. The sergeant rubs his head, "where's Walker? Did he get phase 3 done?"

Chee checks teleport controls, going through logs of who has been transported.

They all look to each other, turning up their noses to the vomit.

Ball reenters the area. A dazed hum of inadequacy and being caught-out resides over them as they stumble about, their minds phased by the whole incident.

Chee takes his eyes away from operations on teleport system, "he definitely made it, the logs here show that he beamed up sometime after us."

"This is fucking ridiculous," Reed coughs.

Lee goes over to panel, Chee points to data.

"For fuck's sake, computer location of Walker?" The veteran has no response from the vessel's reticent control.

Ball checks weapon and slams safety off.

The whole group look at him. Dobrovowski suddenly cottons onto it, the lanky Polish descendant verbalizes what they all think, "the Slyth."
*
Deep within the bowels of the vessel the stalemate goes on. The Slyth cannot communicate by bargaining with the computer, in essence the vessel. The computer cannot out-bargain the alien as it holds the main control and ordered master in a vice like grip.

Cutter awakes, trying to comprehend situation. He reaches up with hands, almost getting alien off him. "What are you doing? What's going on?"

'Silence. Listen. You are going to order this ship to do exactly as I say and get all order passed over to me.'

"Is that it?"

The alien tightens its grip on Walker's neck, so far only being minimal, just showing the computer that it could break its master's neck in the bat-of-an-eye. Now it puts on a demo'.

'Why? I thought you were a good guy? We are all in this-'

'Save the moralizing for your fellow humans. I haven't much time.'

"Time for wha- erk," the choke hold blocks the air supply, cutting his spoken words out and then replaced quickly, attempting to demoralize.

'Instruct.'

'Instruct what?'

'Stop playing for time Walker. I've got to get off this vessel and quickly. Do it now or die. My race have already been alerted.'

"You will die also. I care not if..." as Walker plays out valedictory words, the passageway behind them morphs into view as the computer opens it up. The Slyth and Cutter look at the space for a moment.

'NOW!' The alien insists with loud telepathic fury as the words screech in Walker's head and hurt. He inflicts internal pain on Walker like a thousand headaches.

The rest of the men suddenly burst onto the scene. Wheeler and Reed at forefront, all of their weapons aimed at the alien.

Wheeler demands, "what the hell do you think y' doin' Slyth??"

'Back off Sub-man! You know the score as well as I do. These humans will never forget what you are! Get out while you can!'

'Are you outta y' fuckin' box?' Wheeler approaches his old comrade.

Reed, Lee, Dobrovowski glance to each other with puzzled expressions.

'These people are sound. They could have had us long ago you stupid fuck. Do you think they would have allowed us this far? Get a fuckin'-'

The alien's transmitted thoughts butt into other Sub-man's: 'YOU DON'T GET IT!'

'No I don't fuckin' get it!' Wheeler retorts.

Chee whispers to Irons, "I think they're communicating telepathically."

"SLYTH BATTLE CRUISER APPROACHING. MAXIMUM SPEED, WEAPONS PRIMED."

The tense predicament stops for all attention to be directed to computer's words. The Slyth smiles. Ball lowers weapon aimed at troublesome alien.

Reed looks to Wheeler.

"You know that this vessel can do things beyond anything a Slyth can, why fight us? We are with you," Walker manages, his strength returning as the drug wears off. He knows that he must act.

Ball tries negotiating, "what is the point of this? They cannot engage the Allies here anyway. What chance do you think you have?"

"2 ADDITIONAL SLYTH BATTLE CRUISERS APPROACHING. DECLOAKING."

Slyth lightens grip on his hostage a fraction.
*
"Firing," Wheeler observes another anti-matter missile homing in on a Slyth craft.

Allied craft in the area are finding great difficulty with the unexpected aliens. One cruiser down. The vessel maneuvering and coming into its own, the Slyth race coveting the extraordinary ship.

"3 SLYTH LIGHT CRUISERS DECLOAKING."

"Jesus Christ....how many more?!!" Reed has seen this kind of situation before, knowing (in himself) that if they didn't have such advanced tech', if the vessel wasn't so impervious to Slyth continual bombardment, they would all fear the wrath of Christ himself rather than face the odds that now stack against them.

Walker stands on the bridge. Operating on procedures rapid learnt over last year of training; taking into consideration suggested courses of action by computer. His mind fully concentrated on the matter at hand, the Slyth's drug having worn off- despite such a heavy dosage it could not account for the Univarian gift of making his physiological make-up adept at surviving pretty much anything.

The alien in question, that wished to steal the vessel from them with the help of his own kind, that had had some ridiculous plot in mind, lays across the back of the bridge, motionless on floor. Nobody pays the Sub-man any attention. The Slyth's weapon is held limp in his hands; shattered and broken- rendered useless. The alien filled with gaping laser wounds.
*
A Slyth cruiser implodes. Another joins to cover the flanks of what once was his wing leader. Sheared off course by other vessel's demise. Firing everything into Walker's vessel, all the alien commanders ordered to impair but bring back unique ship. No word from one of their own on board, ordered by the high religious sect amongst their people to gain holy vessel. Their casualty list mounts bigger and bigger by the minute.
*
"LIGHT CRUISER APPROACHING. FORCE FIELDS SUSTAINED. 98% EFFECTIVE."

"Patch Wheeler in computer," Walker directs some of the manual control of weapons to the large bloke.
He operates controls, homing into cruiser, targeting, then firing. Within the vessel, structure of weapons systems alters, changing to suit high demand; vast empty spaces accommodate energy produced.

Now U.F forces join into battle. The whole sector around prison planet, where top-level secrets and data were held, now is set in turmoil. Like a silent ballet, where the music has been offed and even the feet of the dancers cannot be heard touching the boards.

Colour and light ignite. In a ghoulish show of weapons released, life is lost in the insignificance of symbols on display. The vessel turns and fires, multitude times, in an instant, the Slyth attempted capture of the Univarian vessel a forgone conclusion.
*
"This has delayed our plans considerably Walker," the angry face of the Allied leader glares across the bridge from main viewer.

They have won. Cutter is unmoved by the general's anger, some of the crew are effected. Lee whispers something in his ear. The Allied general ignores the action, used to their strange but effective ways.

"Yes I know," he makes no attempt to hide his words, addressing his fellow crewmember.

"I apologize Private Walker...would you have it that you and your band of merry mercenaries continue in your own war?!" The old man on the screen fumes; having been used to, for many years, everyone around him (including his long, suffering wife) kow-towirig before him. If it wasn't for their damn fine soldiering and advanced craft, the general would have all of them shot.

"Did you receive the central codes as well as other data pertaining to the United Forces?" The young Private asks.

The Allied leader nods begrudgingly. The whole atmosphere within the bridge is tense. A groan issues from the slumped Slyth. Walker nods to Wheeler to take the alien away. The general's attention is switched for a moment, then switched off as Cutter breaks communications.

"Is he alive?" Irons asks.

"Just about," Wheeler picks up the creature with robot arm, "shall I kill him?" Holding the alien up he directs his query at Walker.

"No Rich'...attend to his wounds, then put him in the brig. We'll drop him off on his home world," Cutter turns his back on the group which has gathered around the bleeding wretch.

Ball throws their esteemed leader a daggers look, "why not kill it Al'?"

"That would serve no purpose," he answers coldly, "computer put the general back on screen."

Wheeler wanders off bridge. The general's malice comes through in a barrage of condescending insults. Cutter is not moved. He weighs the situation, Lee joining him.

"Isn't this all melodramatic general?" Walker speaks with calm confidence.

"What.......?" The general is stopped in his tracks by the cold, young man.

"There are forces in this universe far stronger than your little rebellious actions general. You will not win. Our plans are in three phases, the side to our bargain-of gaining freedom- stands with us all here. There is a fourth phase...without that being completed you will have a long...costly…struggle.

"Your victory will look present and clear to you now, but it will soon become apparent to you that what we have provided is a mere glitch to them. There main strength is not just through terror, though it can weigh into the masses and stop minor insurrections. The United Forces power comes through one person. Think back through human history," his words are persuasive and the general is somewhat taken aback by the wisdom and power of reason that the young man displays.

The general responds, "I have never before heard such a wild..extravagant.. futile. .bluff!"

"I care not. This is the truth and you know it."

"Then you will allow my troops to board your vessel Private," the general's words resound around the bridge in a communication channel resonance, tonal.

Most of the crew are in fear, the Allies would not stop in hunting them down, one by one if needs be. They all need to be set free from the bounty hunters of the various worlds under United Forces rule. Somewhere, someone has given false data: high prices abound on their heads. All of them are in united thought that Walker should have killed Captain Brice- it is he who probably caused their false crimes. Walker doesn't care, what is the point of killing a vanquished foe? Like the Slyth, if he had not left Brice stranded on a planet, if he'd killed him, what would he be?

"General please allow us one hour," he tests the commander.

"For what Private?"

"I have data. If you would care to peruse it...you will see that our fourth phase involves the president," around his words the rest of the crew are growing anxious, even Dobrovowski has left the bridge, leaving the rest of them transfixed in shocked disapproval.

"Walker you are either a very foolish young man or...." the general pauses before signing off with: "one hour? Send your data on Seera. You realize that your freedom lies in my hands. We may have need of your squads talents."

"I know, but..first look at Phase Four..then we can discuss terms."
*
The supreme United Forces cruiser leads the fleet through the solar system from Earth. On the outer nebula of another galaxy they will meet up with their leader's personal battle cruiser. Slightly different in design from the rest of the fleet and never used in battle. In the past used as a showpiece, an emblem to go by.

The orders came through so quickly and without explanation that all commanders know there is a major offensive planned. Each general commands in anticipation. The unique factor is that President Seera will be in attendance.
*
Her personal guard and elite armed forces are close to her. They hang on her every word as the address fills the huge hall within the bowel of her craft. Aided by a mike pinned to her lapel, her voice is transmitted in loud echoing tones. Only her personal guard, from her mansion, have ever been in this place that now holds thousands upon thousands of United Forces personnel.

"You have all been called here for a very serious task. A task that will challenge every one of you. A task that we will succeed in. Those who are evil and corrupt shall deny us the very way of life, which we cherish. Already they have attacked Dormando Penal Colony, reduced the 6th Dormando Airforce.

"This is being broadcast across our empire. To our people who we must defend against the Allied onslaught. Together in this number have we never before been so tested. Our fears and expectations of the unknown are shared I assure you by the high ranking staff you see beside me.

"We have the most elite craft known in the galaxy. We have the best trained, best equipped, most organized force. We will crush the enemy. We will maintain that which we have a right to under United Forces law.

"I shall not hide anything from you. I have served you all beyond what my duty required. You are all proud men and women..the greatest protectors of the United Forces.......the ethos of our one nation. We..will.......SUCCEED!!!"
*
"A master stroke Walker," the Allied general smiles like a retarded cat.

"The data here on Seera will give us more than an upper hand... this is truly..." it is rare for a man of his position to show emotions, the hard concrete facts and the few the Allies know already, are shining in the delight of the general as he acknowledges that this could be the end of the tyrannical figure of Seera and her regime, "this..is victory gentlemen! We will support you and any requirements pertaining to Phase Four."

"Then..general..we must discuss the terms of our freedom, when the Allies gain power.." Walker coldly spills the sentence.