Title: The Final Preparations

Author: Spock

Feedback: Feedback is the result of having your amplifier turned too on
too loud; please turn it down and send your comments to: spock101@hotbot.com

Distribution: Of course, but be sure to tell me.

Spoilers: Uh, Seasons 1-7, including the movie (It?s hard to say for sure.)

Rating: PG, there?s no major violence, cursing, but there is a slight
bit of genetic mayhem...

Classification: Post-Colonization

Summary: It?s the time of After. The aliens have come, fought, and lost.
Now, one searches through the remains of the country for those who saved
Earth the first time.


/Author?s Note: I love the characters Mr. Carter created. I really do. I
love the LGM. Really, honest. I didn?t try to make any of our characters
evil or nice or mediocre. I tried to age them, change them as I thought
they would change after WW3. Honest. I don?t know if you?ll believe me,
but try to.
/





She rode into the dusty town with no more than what she wore and what
was in the saddlebags. Her horse was a tawny brown with a black tail and
mane. Horses of such quality were rare in these parts. Within minutes,
before she even had time to find the tavern and dismount, everyone knew
of her arrival.

She stepped into the tavern as she pulled back the hood of her robe. She
had hair the same color as her horse's mane and it fell in long, tight
curls to just past her shoulders. She removed her sunglasses to reveal
jade green eyes and took a seat at the bar. She asked for a mug of beer
and was served a few minutes later. As she waited, she turned to the
mass of people, mostly men, sitting at the tables.

The tavern reeked of sweat, spilled whiskey, and week old vomit. The
people sitting at the scarred round tables reeked of sweat, spilled
whiskey, and week old vomit. Her eyes searched for one face. She still
carried his picture, but she didn't need it now: his face was engraved
in her memory. But as she searched, she couldn't find his face.

/By now,/ she thought, /he knows and he's on the run./

The men stared back as she sipped at the warm beer. She finished it and
turned her gaze to the barkeep.

"What's upstairs?" she asked.

"Something you don't wanna see."

"Mind if I take a look around anyway."

"Why?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Fine, dearie, take all the look you want to."

She rose and headed for the stairs. She climbed the stairs slowly,
warily. She could hear the men snickering over their beer. As she
reached the top of the stairs, she could smell the lust in the air. She
sat down near the top of the stairs and waited. Several doors opened and
several men went down the stairs past her. None of them were who she wanted.

After what felt like hours, and may very well have been, a door opened.
A shadow was cast over the hallway floor and a man walked out slowly,
buckling his belt. He didn't wear a shirt, but carried it tucked under
his arm. He made his way to the middle of the hallway and pulled his
shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned. She could see the gun hanging from one
hip, and the knife hanging from the other. Her hand went to one of her
own guns. He saw her and rubbed one eye tiredly.

"Waited long?"

"Since I found your warrant."

"I don't understand why it's taken you this long."

"You're a hard man to find."

"Am I?"

"If you don't struggle, don't try to run, you can help me find everyone
else."

"Who are you searching for?"

"The entire group."

"That's quite a large task for such a young woman."

"I'm quite capable."

"Are you?"

"Quite."

He looked her over, his eyes lingering on the scar running down her
right cheek, the two guns, her 12" Bowie knife. She also looked him
over, studying the gun and 10" Bowie, the scar running over his heart.
She stood and realized she was nearly as tall as he was.

"Will you come peacefully?"

He began buttoning his shirt. "Indeed."

The two walked down the stairs, her behind him, and out of the tavern.
She untethered her horse and followed him down the street.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I'd like to have some of my supplies. Is that all right?"

"I suppose."


/XxXx/


They sat together on his wagon, jerking back and forth with every bump
in the road. They didn't speak and hadn't for several days. They were
concentrating on their upcoming task. They had managed to track down two
of the group and were bearing down on the town, which was a growing dot
on the horizon. She crawled into the back and lay down to rest. She had
the feeling that these two would resist the offer to rejoin.


/XxXx/


She sat at a table in the tavern. He sat at the bar. They waited until
the two men entered to set their plan in action. She waited until they
had set down at one of the tables to make her way over. She leaned down
next to the taller, broader, older one and smiled.

"Yes?" he growled.

"I was just wondering if you'd enjoy some company."

He looked her over. A slight grin passed over his lips. "Maybe I could."

She led him to one of the backrooms she'd rented from the barkeep and
closed the door behind them. He had already begun to unbutton his shirt.
She pressed up against him and drew her knife, pressing the flat of the
blade against his belly.

"I'm offering you the chance to join the group once more. You can come
along peacefully, or I can drag you along. The choice is yours."

He put a hand on the side of her face. "I'll go peacefully." Silence. "I
guess that means company time is over."

"Says who?"

"Says me."


/XxXx/


The four of them rode. One of them was in the back of the wagon, bound
with rope to prevent him from running away as he had the day before. It
had taken them until sundown to finally capture him again. He ran as
fast, if not faster than, the horses. Even as she fought him, he had
already given up. She could see that in his eyes. She'd brought him
back, bound with rope, slung across the back of her horse.

"What's your name?" she was asked by the first man she'd encountered.

"Why does it matter?"

"I don't like the idea of going 'Hey, you' when I want your attention."

"My name . . ." she paused and looked around uncertainly, "is Kerys."

"Well, Kerys, my name is Cristoff. Everyone just calls me Cris."

"I'm Sergei, and this is William," said the tall, broad one.

"Indeed. Now, there are five more I'm seeking. Several of them are in
the next town according to reports."

William had managed to spit out his gag and sit up. "Since Sergei and I
have been with you, you haven't talked to anyone. Yet, you claim to have
knowledge of reports that may have lost their truth. Why are you
following them?"

"I know the reports are accurate because I received them this morning."

"This morning?"

"William, there are some things you don't need to know. If you need to
know, I'll tell you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

The rest of the trip to the town was mostly in silence. The four of them
curled up in the wagon at night, snuggled together to fight off the
cold. During the day, they sat either in the wagon or on the front bench
to keep watch for any interesting developments. There were none.


/XxXx/


He was dreaming of the Before.

He remembered sitting in his office, watching two people sit in front of
him, cowering. They had nearly died in some ice-ridden area of the
planet and had crawled back to him, licking their wounds and looking at
him the way a dog looks when they have done wrong and seek forgiveness.
They knew he wasn't happy, but they also knew that he was the key in
their grand scheme.

He remembered watching them walk away from his office and remembered
trying not to cry as he realized it may very well have been the last
time he ever saw them.

He woke.

There were tears in his eyes. He sat up and saw Kerys watching him. Her
eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

"Don't you ever sleep?" he growled.

"Not when someone is crying in their sleep. What's wrong?"

"I was just . . . Remembering."

"Was it that bad?"

"Not really. It was just . . . it was a time in my life when I was very
unhappy. When people had control over me. Now, I'm happier than I've
ever been."

"Liar. You're feeling worse than you ever have in your life. And they
still have control over you."

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him so that he lay down. She
then put her hand on his forehead. He closed his eyes, and, with a boost
from her, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Kerys leaned down and
kissed his forehead before returning to her watch over the men sleeping
beneath the woolen blankets.


/XxXx/


They were tired of wandering through the dust of the plains. They were
hungry and thirsty and sick of each other. They were growing tired of
the fact that their mission was to find people, although the final
reunion would, undoubtedly, be one of the best moments of their lives.
And as tired as they were, there was a glint in their eyes that could
only mean one thing: They had not yet given up.

The next man they sought was not in one of the taverns they so despised,
but was waiting for them on his porch. His things were already in his
small wagon, horses chewing at their bits, and when he saw them pulling
up, he climbed into the wagon. Kerys climbed into the wagon with him,
hand clenching her knife. All the man did was smile.

"Good day," he said cheerfully.

"Indeed. Do you know where this woman may be found?" Kerys asked,
holding up a faded, worn picture.

"Yes. Shall I take you there?"

"If you'd be so kind."

He clicked his tongue and the horses began walking. At the intersection,
he spoke a strange word she'd never heard before and the horses turned
left. When they made it to the church, he said another word and the
horses stopped. He had never picked up the reins.

They entered the church, each kneeling and splashing a few drops of Holy
Water on their face. The parish priest walked out, hands folded inside
his brown robe.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"We're looking for this woman."

The priest studied the picture for a moment, nodding. He motioned for
them to follow him. They moved through the back hallways of the church
into one of the inner chambers. The priest knocked quietly and the door
opened slowly. They went into the chamber. Stack after stack of papers
and folders lined the walls. A woman stood at the door, gray streaks in
her once red hair, tears rolling down her face.

"You've aged so much," she said in William and Sergei's direction.

"So've you," William responded.

The woman turned to Kerys. Kerys put her hand on the woman's shoulder.

"My name is Kerys. I'm bringing everyone back together."

"I'm Kate. Can I just ask, how did you know who to find?"

"It's a very long story I'd prefer to tell another time. But, I'll ask
this, will you join us?"

Kate didn't hesitate to gather her things and buy enough supplies to
last for nearly a year. And as a sign of the rebellion that ran in her
blood, Kate bought her own wagon and horses. And in a mini-wagon train,
they left the town, Kerys in the lead wagon with the man who wouldn't
give his name.

They rode for days, stopping occasionally to hunt and rest, but always
pushing on. They rarely talked, and resigned themselves to staring
ahead, the sun tanning their skin, squinting their eyes, and making them
hard to the world. Kate and William, who should have spoken the most,
spoke the least. The man who wouldn?t give his name found that Kerys
wouldn?t talk unless she absolutely had to.

It was this way until they came to the next town. It was larger than
most and smaller than some and was still looked like the cities of
Before. As they rode into the town, they realized that there were no
people in the streets, no animals, no sound but their own, and almost no
wind. They all shivered except for Kerys, whose hand went to her knife.
They stopped their wagons just outside of the city?s wall and Kerys
jumped down, scanning the city blocks from behind her sunglasses. She
started forward, the blade of her knife glinting in the noonday sun. She
made her way into the city noiselessly, the gravel under her feet never
crunching. It was as though she floated. The second she passed beyond
the open gate of the wall, a worn and tired looking man stepped out,
brandishing a knife of his own.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Kerys of Alteran."

"Alteran, eh?"

"Yes. Take me to James of Derbin."

"What business would he have of you and your people?"

She sheathed her knife. "If you do not let me enter," she began, "he
will have you gutted."

"He would do nothing of the sort."

"Willing to beat your life?"

The man squirmed a moment before sheathing his own knife. "Follow me."


/XxXx/


James of Derbin was a short, balding man who appeared to be totally
blind. He sat in what appeared to be an aging wheelchair and was missing
his left leg from the knee down. As soon as Kerys and the rest of the
party entered, his head snapped in their direction. Another man with
thinning blond hair stepped out of the shadows. He was incredibly thin
and wore torn clothes from Before.

"What is your name?" the blond man asked.

"I am Kerys of Alteran."

Her statement caused James to smile. "Come forward, child," James said.
His voice was little more than a growled whisper.

Kerys stepped forward and knelt next to him, wrapping her arms around
him tightly. He wrapped his own around her and smiled again. She sat
back and ran a hand down his cheek.

"You've assembled them?"

"Yes. Five of them."

"Do you know their names?"

"They have given me aliases under the assumption that I do not know who
they are, but I have collected Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully,
Cristopher Spender, and Alex Krycek. The last refused to even give an
alias."

"I doubt they recognize me. I've changed much since they last saw me."

"Where's Byers, Frohike?" Mulder asked. "I see you've got Langly here,
but where's John?"

"He's somewhere around here. Is the lady Scully still lovely as ever?"

"Slightly gray-haired and worse for the wear, but still lovely," Mulder
answered.

"Daddy," Kerys said, "should we tell them why we've assembled them
again? I think it would be their right."

"I think you'd better tell them, Langly."

Langly stepped forward. His glasses were cracked and needed replaced.
But he carried a dignity none of them had seen before. "We managed to
revive some of our equipment from Before and modify it. We've been
scanning the skies for a very long time. Recently, we found evidence
that there may be another Invasion soon. We tried to engage contact, but
we got nothing." He paused for a moment. "You are the only leaders we
have left. Walt, we're going to need tactics, Mulder, Cris, we'll need
your research and information skills, Dana, we'll need your recruiting
skills, Alex, you've got some spies to train."

"What about weapons?" Skinner asked.

"That's your department. But, you'll have help. Kerys, take him to the
store-room." Kerys led Skinner away. "We?ve been developing fighters and
spies and informatives here. We've followed the notes all of you left,
but there's nothing like an original."

"I'm sure you've done a wonderful job," Mulder said.

"Well, either way it goes, you've got some people to train. There are
some left who served under you and they'll show you around, introduce
you to your students. Dana, you've got a room full of letter-writers
who're waiting to go."

Langly clapped his hands twice and several men and women stepped into
the room, going immediately to whomever they would be showing around.
They led their "Trainees" away and to their departments. Langly and
Frohike stayed quiet for a moment. Langly walked behind Frohike, clasped
the handles of the wheelchair and rolled him into their main information
room. Langly stared at Byers, who was part of the machines. Wires ran
into and out of his body, his eyes were closed, but they opened when the
other two stepped in. He was in no pain, that much they had been able to
confirm. The machines ran off the energy his body created. As long as he
lived, their systems would be enabled. And when he died, they could hook
up one of his trainees who had helped him develop the technology and the
machines would keep running.

"Are they assembled?" a metallic voice rang. Byers had also figured up a
way to give himself a voice.

"Yes, and they've already been sent to their areas. It won't be long
until we're ready again," Langly responded. Frohike could never bring
himself to talk to this shell of his longtime friend.

"Do they know of me?"

"They know you're around, but they don't know the entire story."

"They may not be able to handle it. Especially Mulder."

"I think Mulder will handle it best of all. He was always the one who
was the most open. Of course, Kerys already knows."

"What Kerys doesn't know is that she's found her mother."

"She also doesn't know that all of the men she's gathered together and
the three she grew up with are her collective father. Shall we tell her?"

"When it is time. Who is she most like?"

"Walt. She has his determination and strength. I shall hate to send her
into battle. We'll never be able to create another like her."

"We shall try. Now, please, attend to your portion of the students. The
Time is nearly at hand."


/XxXx/


The End's