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May-29-07, 02:58 PM (EDT)
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"Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story"
 
   The Mysterons. Sworn enemies of humanity. Possessing the ability to re-create an exact likeness of an object or person...

... but first they must destroy.

Friday, June 22, 2384
Eleanor City, Meizuri

Wilton Goulet, Chief of the Worlds Welfare Work Association, sat in his office at the top of the 3WA Pyramid, regarding the large viewscreen at the end of the room gravely.

"Play it again," he said. The technician manning the playback console punched a couple of buttons and the recording ran a third time. It showed the giant 3WA sign outside the building, down at the end of the main motor traffic driveway off the Cross-City Expressway, from the point of view of the gate security camera. For a few moments nothing exceptional appeared - just traffic humming by in the background and a couple of puffy clouds cruising across the sky.

Then, from just off-camera, a pair of strange lights appeared. They looked as if they were being projected onto the sign by some kind of lamp, but Goulet knew that wasn't the case. The two rings of green light, slowly tracking across the sign as if examining it, were immediately recognizable to anybody in a position of law enforcement authority by this time. They were the hallmark of one of the strangest, most mysterious threats facing the galactic authorities.

As if on cue, the quiet traffic noises in the background were obscured by a booming, distorted voice that spoke with a slow, chilling cadence:

"This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthmen. Prepare yourself for the next blow in our war of nerves against your pathetic civilization. For our next act of vengeance against your pitiful race, we will destroy the headquarters of the interfering Worlds Welfare Work Association. 3WA Headquarters will fall at midnight tonight. This is the voice of the Mysterons."

As the voice finished speaking, the green lights disappeared, and all was normal again. Moments later, the image froze as the excerpt reached its end.

"Analysis?" Goulet asked.

"It's just like all the others, sir," the tech reported. "The lights can't be traced to any identifiable source, nor can the voice. It's just there, on the recording. Spectral patterns match - it's genuine."

Goulet glanced at the clock on his office wall. Its hands stood at 9:20 PM.

"Just over two and a half hours to their deadline. Okay, lock down the building. No one gets in or out without proper clearance. Recall all off-duty Trouble Consultants within the city limits and enact riot control protocols. And post extra guards to all main reactor access points."

As his subordinates moved to carry out his orders, Goulet regarded the frozen image on the screen with a scowl.

Three years now they've been at this. Who the hell are they? What do they want? Vengeance for what?


Trouble Consultant First Class Yuri Daniels was well into her weekend when the emergency page came down from Headquarters, but that was no really big deal. Being a Detian, she could hold her liquor pretty well. Certainly well enough to jump in her roadster and head for the barn, letting the fresh air streaming past the open cockpit help her accelerated metabolism clear her head. By the time she reached the causeway over the Lake Eleanor Ship Channel, she was perfectly sober, capable of passing any breath or blood test anyone might care to name.

Unfortunately, sobriety does not, in itself, constitute an effective defense against anti-vehicle mines.

Yuri heard nothing, felt no premonition of danger. Her only warning was a sudden flash of green light out of the corner of her eye, as if someone had passed a green searchlight over her car. Then -

Yuri's sleek scarlet Road Arrow speeder and its driver vanished in a massive fireball that bloomed upward from the causeway beneath, cratering the duracrete road surface. Flaming debris rained down into the lake as a pall of thick black smoke, backlit by the city's nightglow, rose into the sky. The concussion smashed windows on the shore, nearly a mile away, and set off several building alarms. Chief Goulet could see the blast from the window of his office, though, of course, he had no idea of its significance.


In her office down on the 73rd floor, TC1 Kei Morgan suddenly winced, uttering a sharp, inarticulate cry. A passing TC3 paused, looking in through the door.

"Agent Morgan? Are you all right?"

Kei blinked at the younger agent, apparently as surprised as her colleague that she had just jumped in her chair and let out a yelp. "Uhh... I'm fine," she said, putting her fingertips to her forehead. "I just felt... a little weird." She looked at her watch, then at the empty desk on the other side of the room. "Where the hell is Yuri?"


Not far from the furiously burning fire on the Ship Channel Causeway, a gaunt figure dressed in black stood by the guard rail next to an idling repulsor swoop. Expressionless, he watched the fire burn with sunken, glassy, bloodshot eyes, the eyes of a living corpse. The green rings swept over and past him, playing over the blaze for a few seconds.

Then a silhouette appeared within the still-blazing fire, growing nearer and more distinct - and Yuri Daniels emerged from the flames, her uniform trailing smoke but intact, angry red burns on her body already healing and disappearing. She walked casually away from the inferno and stopped next to Captain Black. As she did so, the last of her burns disappeared.

"You know what to do," he intoned in a low, guttural voice - a voice not too different from that of the Mysterons themselves.

Yuri nodded, swung onto the saddle of the swoop, and accelerated away, heading for the 3WA pyramid. Captain Black stood for a long moment watching her taillights recede, then turned and walked away, vanishing into the night. His part in the operation was concluded.


"Took you long enough to get in, Daniels," the guard at the main gate grumbled as he took Yuri's credentials and scanned them. "You're the last agent to report."

"Sorry!" Yuri replied, looking sheepish and faintly embarrassed. "I was busy when I got the page. Took me a few minutes to, um, extricate myself," she added with a slightly blushing wink.

The guard chuckled. "Well, they say the exfil is always the hardest part of the op," he said, returning her credentials. He opened the gate and waved her through.

"You got that right!" Yuri declared, waving gaily as she rode onto the grounds.

She passed the next five checkpoints - getting into the parking garage with her swoop, getting out of the parking garage on foot, accessing the lobby level, passing the guards in the transport core, and entering an elevator bound for the office levels - with ease, chatting with everyone for a few moments about what a bummer it was to get called in for an all-hands lockdown on a Friday night. After nearly four centuries with the 3WA, she and Kei were fixtures around the building, especially since they'd been based out of Headquarters after the SDF-17 went down. They knew everybody who worked there; had often known those same people's parents, grandparents, and more.

Only after entering the elevator did Yuri drop her cheerful demeanor, becoming grim and purposeful. When the lift reached the 33rd floor, she halted it with an override code she was not, strictly speaking, supposed to know, then left the car through the emergency exit and made her way to the ventilation duct that parallelled the turboshaft.


"Has Yuri checked in with you yet?" Goulet asked on Kei's desktop vidphone.

"No," Kei replied. "She should've been here by now. And she's got her damn comm shut off again. I was starting to wonder if she'd gone up to check with you."

"I haven't seen her," Goulet said. "Strange." He sighed. "See if you can find her. This is no time for her to be off roaming around the building on one of her little sightseeing expeditions. The Security officers are all on post anyway," he added with a slightly wry expression. "There's nothing for her to see in their showers right now."

Kei nodded. "Maybe she's taking the opportunity to set up some cameras. I'm on it, Chief," she said. It'll give me something to do, anyway, she thought as she hung up the phone and turned to her computer terminal.

Okay. Securitrack shows she entered the building... five minutes ago. So where the hell is she? Kei thought. She punched a few more keys, accessing security cameras around the building. Nobody in the security officers' barracks area, not that she'd seriously expected Yuri to be there. Nobody in any of the turbolifts...

Frowning, Kei accessed the transponder tracking system. She disliked the 3WA's relatively recent habit of tagging all its agents with a homing transponder. It seemed a little unsporting, even if management insisted up, down, and sideways that the system wasn't going to be used to keep tabs on agents' personal habits - only locate them in the event of an emergency. She had been known to jam her own transponder implant just to be contrary. There was just something that pissed her off about being tagged like a migratory animal.

She looked at her watch and then went back to work at the console. If "less than an hour to go before the Mysterons blow up the building" wasn't an emergency...

Then Kei's eyebrows went up as the system reported Yuri's whereabouts.

"What the crap... " she murmured. She ran the trace again. The result was the same.

"What the fuck are you doing, Yuri?" Kei muttered. Her partner's behavior, if this trace was to be believed, made no sense. Why would she be going back to the parking level? Forgot something in her car? Or...

The thought popped into her head with complete spontaneity.

Or trying to get back-level access to the reactor?

Kei shook her head. What? That's stupid. Not Yuri.

But we don't really know how the Mysterons recruit their agents, do we? she asked herself. Remember that case on New Japan? That guy was the city commissioner of public works. Not the kind of person who's easily swayed to a terrorist cause. And he tried to take out the city water works.

No. Kei, you're being stupid again. There is no fucking way that Yuri is working for the Mysterons. The last time you let yourself think some stupid shit like that about someone you love, you fucked the galaxy in the eye for 90 years, you retard. Pull your shit together. Think. What's she doing down there?

The light dawned almost immediately. She's tracking the real Mysteron infiltrator. She's not answering her comm because it would give her away.

Yanking open her desk drawer, Kei grabbed her blaster and PDA, holstered the one and slapped a tracker module into the other, and left the office.


When their careers as 3WA Trouble Consultants began, neither Kei nor Yuri was regarded as a good prospect. Both scored high in practical exercises, but poorly in academic evaluations. Neither displayed discipline, exactitude, or even any particular cleverness. They were athletic women - girls, really, all of seventeen - with better-than-average marksmanship abilities and a propensity for violence, and that was, essentially, all. They were passable enforcers but poor investigators, and the first few years of their careers were marked by a series of spectacular failures of both judgment and execution, as well as an exceptional tendency toward sheer bad karma. The only reason the agency kept them on was the simple fact that, when the dust settled, the 3WA central computer always found sufficient extenuating circumstances to excuse the worst of their conduct.

It said something for how far they had come that both women managed, in the midst of a full-scale security lockdown, to reach the headquarters building's reactor room in Subbasement G without running afoul of any security personnel, tripping any anti-intrusion system, or setting off any alarm - and by two completely separate routes, to boot. They did it without any time to plan, without any specialized equipment beyond what they normally carried, and without outside backup.

Kei arrived in the core chamber first, emerging from a secondary service duct high in the vast room's domed ceiling. Two hundred feet below her, connected to the circular walkway that constituted Level G by a pair of radial catwalks, was the core itself, a vaguely hemispherical, heavily shielded collection of hardware about the size of a bus. Below that, the master cooling shaft stretched away to a dizzying vanishing point, seeming like it must plunge clear to the center of the planet.

Slowly turning at the end of her jumpline and scanning the chamber, Kei saw no one, no sign of movement. She let herself down, releasing the line when she was just above the core, and dropped lightly to the top of the containment housing, then crept slowly forward. The manual override controls for the core - the logical target for an infiltrator bent on taking out the building - were on the side of the core housing, at the end of the north catwalk. Kei moved toward this, staying low against the armored reactor cap, so that she could cover the approach. When the infiltrator arrived, assuming Yuri was still on his tail - and from the movement of her blip on Kei's portable tracker, it seemed she still was - they'd have him pincered between them before he ever had a chance to approach the controls.

On the far wall, at the other end of the catwalk, a series of lights above a recessed door started to blink quickly downward.

Man, how brazen is this bastard? Kei thought as a bell sounded and the elevator door opened. Whoever it is, he knows something about the way this building is put together, she mused. Or he's just a competent enough slicer to rascal the elevator without setting off an alarm - no mean feat in the middle of a full lockdown.

Rising to one knee for a better sightline, she held her blaster in a textbook two-hand grip and leveled it at the doorway. Inside the car, a figure stirred, then emerged into the low bluish light of the core chamber.

Kei blinked.

Yuri! But... where's the guy she's following?

Puzzled, Kei raised herself up and called, "Hey! What'd you, lose him?"

Yuri looked up sharply, surprise on her face -

- then drew her weapon and opened fire.

"What the CRAP - " Kei yelled as blasterfire laced the air around her. She dropped instinctively, hugging the reactor casing. Blaster bolts skipped off the housing's heavy armor. One of the ricochets clipped her in the upper arm. Kei dropped her blaster, rolled to the side, and nearly lost her balance, sliding partway down the sloped side of the casing. With her good hand, she grabbed at an irregularity in the plating, stopping herself before she could go over the side. Her weapon tumbled the rest of the way down, bounced off a secondary cooling vane, and fell into the bottomless-looking space below, disappearing from view.

"Yuri, what the hell's the matter with you?!" Kei demanded, trying to pull herself back up the side of the core housing. "It's me! Kei? Your partner? Stop shooting at me!"

The plea only seemed to spur Yuri to double her rate of fire. Cursing, Kei huddled against the reactor housing, waiting out the storm. When Yuri paused to switch in a new powerpack, Kei gritted her teeth and, with a supreme effort that brought tears to her eyes, hauled herself to the top of the housing, then leaped off. Yuri finished reloading, but Kei plowed into her in a flying tackle before she could raise her weapon. Yuri twisted away from the blow, preventing herself from being carried over backward, but Kei turned her fall into a crouch and then swept Yuri's legs from under her. The raven-haired Trouble Consultant fell, her blaster spinning from her hand and ricocheting from the safety gutter at the edge of the catwalk.

As quickly as she fell, Yuri bounced up again, launching a kick at Kei's head, and the fight was on.

/* Rollins Band
"Disappearing Act"
Come In and Burn Sessions */

Yuri and Kei had always been fairly well-matched in hand-to-hand combat. They had sparred together often enough that they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses well. Kei was the stronger of the two, and marginally the tougher, though since both women were Detians, they both had endurance and pain tolerance to rival large farm animals. Yuri was quicker and slightly more agile. Kei was a bare-knuckled street fighter with a variety of special-forces dirty tricks and tae kwon do techniques she'd picked up over the years; Yuri was a sometime practitioner of wu shu kung fu and knew a bit of aikido.

Kei was hard-pressed to stay abreast of her opponent in this fight. Yuri was holding absolutely nothing back, coming at her partner with every technique she knew and every bit of speed and strength in her body. Kei was confused, not to say entirely flummoxed, by the unexpected turn her day had taken, and she didn't want to hurt her oldest friend if she could possibly help it. Plus, only one of her arms was really working, though the blaster burn to the other was already beginning to heal.

Rather than try to take Yuri out, Kei at first just tried to keep her guard up and stay between her partner and the reactor override panel. For a few seconds, she tried talking, striving to get through, to no avail. Feverishly she tried to think what could have happened to Yuri. Some kind of mind control? Her eyes weren't blank or glassy like your average Manchurian Candidate-type carrying out a program; she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, even if she refused to reply to Kei's entreaties. Android double? No, she had Yuri's transponder tag, and not even Yuri knew exactly where on her person that was; anyway, they were designed to self-destruct if removed. Some kind of clever counterplot that relied on Kei not realizing she was faking until some critical moment? Uh... no, not likely under the circumstances. So what -

"Aaaaaaaah!" Kei yelled as Yuri caught her a little short on an attempted block, seized what had been her good arm in a painful joint lock, then deliberately overpowered the hold so that it separated the elbow. Only by sacrificing the shoulder as well, earning herself a second starburst of pain, did Kei manage to break free and reel away. Yuri pressed her advantage, launching a kick combo that Kei could only feebly try to block with her blaster-shot arm. Battered first one way and then the other, momentarily stunned, Kei was unable to defend herself effectively as Yuri closed in, seized her by the throat, and bent her backward over the catwalk's safety railing.

Grabbing ineffectually at Yuri's wrist, Kei fought back as best she could, trying to get a leg under her apparently deranged partner and push her away. Yuri's strength seemed to double; teeth gritted, she forced Kei back and down, her eyes wild.

"Yuri... why are you... doing this?" Kei managed to gasp out - and then she was overmatched, her balance pushed past its limits, and she went over the rail and vanished into the darkness below.

Yuri stood at the rail for a moment, gathering her composure. Then she turned, went to the override console, and started methodically overcoming its safety protocols.

So intent was she on this task that she failed to notice her partner's survival.

It took Kei nearly five agonizing minutes to crawl through the open steelwork superstructure underneath the catwalk to the far end. There, the walkway widened slightly into a short platform just before debouching into the elevator bay, offering a small gap in the gutter where she might be able to climb back to right side of the catwalk. Slowly, painfully, she worked her way through the crossbars and grabbed the edge of the platform. Her blaster wound, now bleeding, twinged as she closed her hand. Only her iron self-will prevented the hand from opening reflexively, sending her plunging into the cooling shaft to the doom Yuri had planned for her.

That same will fueled her as she dragged herself upward, her dislocated arm slithering along beside her like a separate entity, until she could finally get a toehold on the catwalk frame and use her legs to help propel her onto the platform. With a grunt, she pushed herself forward, falling full-length onto the catwalk. Twisting her body as she fell, she used the impact to drive her shoulder back into position, letting out another strangled cry through her teeth.

Kei would have liked to lie there for a few minutes, her face pressed to the cool metal of the catwalk, until the throbbing in her shoulder and elbow subsided a little - but there wasn't time for that, so she hauled herself to her knees, then tried to get upright. A burst of vertigo convinced her that might not be such a good idea. Blinking away tears, she saw Yuri standing at the reactor console, her back to the elevator, still working away at the keyboard there.

For a second she didn't know what to do - she was in no condition to charge back into a face-to-face confrontation, much less drag Yuri away from the console, and she had no weapons - and then she saw Yuri's compact blaster, lying where it had slid to a stop after Kei's flying leap from the reactor casing had knocked it from its owner's hand. Still dragging her right hand, Kei half-limped, half-crawled toward it, picked it up, and tried to aim it.

The enormity of what was happening to her pressed close on Kei's mind, more traumatic in its way than the pain in her battered body. She'd been beaten up before, and much more comprehensively than this, come to that. Physical pain was transitory, doubly so to a regenerative Detian. But the knowledge that she'd been beaten up by Yuri - that Yuri had tried to kill her, believed she had succeeded, and was now calmly trying to self-destruct the building and kill not only herself, but hundreds of co-workers and friends (to say nothing of the thousands of Eleanor City citizens who would perish in the blast)...

... it all reminded Kei almost paralytically of another day, decades before, when she had felt the carefully maintained order of her universe falling in around her for no understandable reason.

What if I'm wrong? she asked herself, her hand shaking violently. Like I was before? What if there's an explanation for all this that I just can't see?

But even as she asked it of herself, Kei knew the question was fallacious. What explanation could there be for Yuri shooting her, beating her up, and throwing her off a catwalk? This wasn't like Musashi, where she'd seen leading circumstances and jumped to a conclusion. She was witnessing these acts first-hand. They were terrible, they were incomprehensible, but they were happening, right in front of her.

"Yuri," she rasped, then coughed and tried again. "Yuri! Yuri, stop! Get away from that console! Do it now!"

Yuri stiffened, obviously surprised to be addressed from beyond the grave, as it were. Slowly, she turned and saw Kei half-kneeling on the catwalk a dozen yards away, braced against one of the railing uprights, Yuri's own blaster leveled at its owner in one unsteady hand.

The reactor chamber's lighting turned red and an alarm started sounding. For the first time since this strange dance began, Yuri spoke.

"You're too late," she said. "The codes are all entered. All I have to do now is press one key." Reaching behind her for the keyboard, she smiled coldly. "You won't stop me."

Tears streaming down her face, Kei cried hoarsely, "Yuri, I'm begging you. I don't know what's happened to you, but... don't make me do this."

"Goodbye, Kei," said Yuri. She started to bring her hand down.

"Yuri! Don't make me! Don't make me do this again! YURIIIII!"

The sound of the single shot was nearly drowned out by the alarm siren. Yuri's hazel-green eyes widened in shock, then went utterly blank, as she seemed to acquire a third eye - a neat-edged, dime-sized black circle, dead-center on her forehead. As if in slow motion, she fell to her knees, then pitched forward on her face and lay still.

Weeping uncontrollably, Kei threw the blaster over the edge of the catwalk, forced herself to her feet, and walked past her partner's body, then punched in a code to abort the reactor overload. As the lights returned to normal and the siren ceased to wail, she turned and crumpled to her knees next to Yuri's sprawled form.

"Yuri," she whispered, putting a hand on her partner's back. "Why? Why did you do it?"

Awkwardly - her right arm still had virtually no strength, though at least it was working again - she managed to turn Yuri's limp body over and gather it up, holding Yuri's upper body against her chest. Wracked with misery, Kei knelt there, sobbing, knowing that this time there would be no convenient replicant or GENOM plot to blame. Her partner had gone mad and Kei had killed her. That she'd had to, that she'd saved thousands of lives by doing so, meant nothing. Not right now. Right now, Kei saw only black and tasted only ashes.

Had she been slightly less wrapped up in her wretchedness, she might have noticed the blaster burn on Yuri's forehead close, fade, and disappear entirely; but had she been in any position to take note of that, she would hardly have been human.

Only when Yuri twitched, stirred, and then began to struggle did Kei snap out of her miserable fugue.

"Owww," Yuri moaned, pushing at one of Kei's arms. "Kei, you're crushing me. I can't breathe."

"AAAAAHH!" Kei yelled, recoiling. Released, Yuri fell to the catwalk, then pulled herself up to her knees and shook her head.

"What are you yelling about?" she asked irritably. Then, looking around, she blinked in surprise. "And what the hell are we doing in the reactor room? I was just on my way in for the - ... are you crying? Kei, what the fuck is going on?"

Kei blinked, staring at her, absolutely unable to believe what she was seeing. Not only was Yuri alive, she seemed completely unaware of what she had just done, what had just happened to her. The snap in her voice, the spark in her eyes - that was the Yuri Kei knew.

She would never be entirely sure why she did what she did next, but she did it anyway: lunging forward, she caught Yuri up in a crushing hug and kissed her.

When she did - when their lips touched - a flash of light filled her cerebral cortex, followed by an image of another place and time.

Somewhere hot and dusty, ash crunching underfoot. Kei in combat boots, jeans, one of those reflec-taped thermal jackets firefighters wear; she had a pair of green-lensed flare goggles hanging around her neck and a strange gold-metal rod in her hands. Yuri in black, tails of a red trenchcoat snapping in a cold wind, a hard white light from somewhere off to the side casting half her face in deep shadow under the brim of a scarlet duster hat, and a sense... a sense of heavy foreboding mingled with a strange exultation.

The Lovely Angels are going to war...

Kei snapped back to reality to see Yuri regarding her with an expression combining bafflement and faint amusement.

"I hope," she said dryly, "you weren't trying to, uh... reveal anything to me with that."

Kei blinked, then blushed slightly.

"Um... no," she said. "I just, um... got a little carried away."

"Good. 'Cause, as you well know, I'm not into that kind of thing."

"No. Uh, me neither. I... I dunno." Kei looked a little sheepish and sniffed back a fresh wave of tears, these propelled by relief rather than grief. "Been a long day. I guess you don't remember."

"I guess not." Yuri looked thoughtful for a second, then grinned faintly and said, "Though I have to admit you're not bad."

Kei snorted, a giggle supplanting the sniffles. "Er... thanks," she said.

A few seconds later, the security officers piled out of the elevator, summoned by the reactor alarms, and found them half-laughing, half-crying in each other's arms.


On the top floor, Chief Goulet listened to Kei's report via telephone from the ground-floor medical center.

"I understand," he said. "I want you both fully checked out by Med-Sci. Especially Yuri. We have to be absolutely sure whatever control the Mysterons had over her really is broken. Mm-hmm. All right. Full report in the morning. And Kei? ... Good work."

Goulet hung up the telephone, then sagged in his chair, sighing. "They came through again," he said to no one in particular.

Turning in his chair, he looked out at the lights of Eleanor City. Five million people going about their Friday nights - well, Saturday mornings now - sublimely unaware of how close they had all just come to annihilation.

Another day in the 3WA. Another day on the razor's edge.

Goulet's console beeped. Swiveling, he saw his new-mail icon blinking. A moment later, the new message popped open.

YOU WIN THIS ROUND, EARTHMEN.

WE WILL STRIKE AGAIN.

THIS IS THE VOICE OF THE MYSTERONS.

"Mysteron" - an Exile Mini-Story by Benjamin D. Hutchins
with thanks to Gerry & Sylvia Anderson
Special to the Eyrie Productions Discussion Forum
© 2007 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


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Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story [View All] Gryphonadmin May-29-07 TOP
   RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story twipper May-29-07 1
      RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story Star Ranger4 May-29-07 5
          RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story BZArchermoderator May-29-07 6
   RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story O_M May-29-07 2
      RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story BZArchermoderator May-29-07 3
   RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story zerosumgame May-29-07 4
   RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story MOGSY May-30-07 7
   RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story asuffield May-30-07 8
      RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story Gryphonadmin May-30-07 9
          RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story E_M_Lurker May-31-07 10
              RE: Mysteron: An Exile Mini-Story Peter Eng May-31-07 11


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