Congressman Markus Aquinas adjusted the soft Thai silk tie, buttoning the cuffs of his simple blue shirt before pulling on his jacket. Finally it was the big day, months of primary elections, promises, negotiations and campaigning had brought him to the National Convention. Senator MacDonald would be nominated, and he in turn would name Markus as his running mate.

The President of the United States was present at the convention, under heavy security. The military had moved in to cover the event. National Guard troops imposed mandatory curfews and kept the area around the convention hall as clear from traffic as was feasible. The damaged, but valiant USS Colombia was in geo-synchronous orbit over Chicago providing cover against any kind of attack, while the remaining orbital defence platforms continued their sentinel over the world, enforcing their choking blockade.

Markus wasn't worried about his safety, walking back across the floor to where his aide stood patiently. "And are you ready Sebastian?"

The aide feigned confusion, as he stared at Markus for a long moment, his face melting and reforming into another face, one so plain that it could have passed for anyone.

"How did you know?" Sebastian demanded.

"I can sense you, you stand out as being alien, your emotions and your presence," he waved his hand around the alien assassin, "it radiates off of you."

"And you are not human if you can sense that," Sebastian pointed out, "it appears that we both have secrets to hide."

"Yes," Markus nodded, "and once this night is over, I promise you that you will be rewarded."

"We shall see," Sebastian murmured, his face reforming back into the aides, "be certain."

"Of that, there is no doubt," Markus bowed his head and indicated to the door, "we should head down."

Special Agent Maya smoked a cigarette, knowing that he wasn't supposed to, he lurked by the elevators, watching the far doors down the hall slide open as the Senator was escorted out of his rooms, through the hotel halls, festooned with balloons and bunting. Through the chaos of a National Convention.

Lobbyists lurked around every corner, trying to get a few minutes of time with the important delegates and officials in attendance. Plying everything from agricultural reform through to defence contracts. Waving bulky petitions and hefty documents that no one had time to bother reading, especially not amidst the madness around them. Everywhere echoed the usual cliché lines 'I'll look into it' which meant that the delegate in question was still searching for the nearest bar, where the smart liquor lobby had positioned the best lubrication for politics in an abundant supply.

The first National Convention had occurred in 1831, where the Anti-masonic Party had used it to select its presidential candidate, of course it had been a fiasco, overloaded with delegates selected by the party to ensure that the right candidate secured the nomination, it had been simply a tool to start the presidential campaign early. However it had evolved through the use of the direct primary, but it still remained a tool for the party to push through their own agenda.

Over the years, attempts to regulate the National Convention beyond the federal law had failed. There were no formal regulations that covered the National Convention. Three thousand or so delegates and alternates jumping up and down and screaming as they were consulted for their "suggestions" which were usually ignored.

Of course there had been publicity stunts, news reports inaccurately reporting that a man had base jumped off of the roof of the convention building, unrolling a large cloth banner bearing the names of at least five thousand people upon it. A massive petition that of course had hit the news being reported as 'The biggest petition ever', which other news stations had jumped upon, inflating the reported number of signatures up to close to the million mark. All for one simple cause 'Senator MacDonald's Nomination'.

"Senator," Agent Maya called out, being jostled by the crowds of people, "Senator!"

MacDonald turned, his face blank as he extended his hand, giving a radiant smile as he shook his ready to move on.

"Senator, Special Agent Maya, FBI, I need a moment of your time, sir."

A secret service agent pushed him back, "today isn't the day...."

"Sir!" Maya ignored the Secret Service Agent and addressed the Senator directly, "sir, there is going to be an attempt on your life today.... you need to...." He was pushed back again by the snarling Agent.

"We know, we have your briefing," the Agent snapped, "just stay out of the way, and do your job."

Maya cursed as the Senator vanished into the elevator and he was left to straighten his creased suit, glaring at the Agent who stood barring his way. Shaking his head again at the stupidity of the people surrounding him, tugging down as he marched back up the hall.

Sebastian drew away from the Congressman as he walked into 'Aquinas Headquarters' on the south side of the building. Markus pushing through the doors, smiling at all the signs around him depicting his name 'Aquinas for Vice-President'. Over the next series of hours he would be receiving the perspective candidates for the Presidency, their managers and key officials. Making deals, negotiating his support and securing his consideration, should a candidate other than MacDonald be elected. Of course there were so many others in the building, people making plays for cabinet positions, knowing that the current President intended to take most of his Cabinet down with him, many of the old guard and war hawks were looking to secure their positions.

Of course General Morgan's name had arisen for the Secretary of Defence position a few times, but Markus was careful to ensure that his promises of support contained the caveat that Morgan never set foot in the White House again. Of course there was nothing that said MacDonald would oblige him.

It was to be a gruelling couple of days and Markus positioned himself well, knowing that his convincing nature would ensure that he would succeed no matter what occurred. But with the dice rattling in the cup, he felt anxious, knowing that it was the difference between four years, four long years in his plans.

Tomorrow would come the nominations, speeches, demonstrations, more nominations and so on until the night was adjourned until the next day where the delegates would meet to debate over its choice of candidate for the office of Vice-President, and then it was a matter of waiting until the announcements and acceptance speeches of both leaders the following night.

Everything was a matter of ritual. Everything had its place, and Markus knew how to play the game. Looking up at the technician that was shown into his office sometime late into the evening.

"You're late," Markus observed as the technician set the small case down upon the desk.

"I am sorry, it took a great deal of skill to get this through the tiered security." The technician unlatched the case and drew back the lid, showing the modular weapon inside, "courtesy of Doctor Rikard, as per your request. It's a mark two Psi-kinetic disruptor, or PKD. Capable of a number of different settings, mostly designed for incapacitation rather than lethality, R and D are working on a next generation civic police weapon. However on the right setting this weapon delivers a deadly shock capable of causing neural feedback and overloading the brain. It will kill almost any living being set high enough."

Markus eyed the weapon and then nodded, closing the case, "excellent, thank the good Doctor for me." He stood tucking the case under his arm as he walked out of his office, gesturing to one of his Secret Service Agent's he handed the weapon over to him, "ensure that a Special Agent Maya is handed this weapon."

"Yes sir," the Agent replied marching away, allowing Markus to return to his office and look up at the technician again, "in a few hours you will have the genetic sample Rikard requires, wait and I'll have it brought to you."

The technician was shown out as Senator MacDonald was shown in at last, Markus rising from behind his desk, shaking Randy's hand as they both moved to a set of side couches.

Markus rubbed his ear as he sat and crossed one leg over the other, "long day," he blew out.

"I know," MacDonald responded accepting a mug of coffee Markus's secretary brought to him, "but a productive one. I have a choice in mind for Secretary of State, Doctor Morvanor, Harvard university professor in global politics, he's been the UN ambassador for the past ten years. A familiar face on the world stage, and a popular name amongst die hard party members."

Markus nodded his head, "agreed."

"You might remember his son, he's about your age and went to your university." MacDonald smiled.

"My university was a sizable campus," Markus warned, "and I tended to be very solitary in my youth. You could say there wasn't much opportunity for me to meet people growing up."

"I know that feeling," The Senator agreed, "when I attended university for my Law degree I had a similar problem, it took Liz to pull me out of my shell."

Elizabeth MacDonald was the future First Lady and a graceful and elegant woman possessed with the poise and dignity that would suit her future role. But anyone that made the mistake of thinking her a Stratford wife obviously hadn't spent any time with Liz. She could take the skin off a fat cat with a few choice words, her essays on political theory were almost legendary as well as taught in several key universities in the United States. Combined with her own two terms in State legislature she was a feared politician more than capable of dealing with the American lobbies.

One of the Senator's aides pulled back his sleeve and coughed politely gesturing towards his watch.

"For whom the bell tolls...." Markus remarked wryly standing up, "I want an early start for tomorrow, and you, sir, should as well."

"I wish I could," MacDonald said with a sigh, "are we sure we've spent enough time in here together to make it seem like we're negotiating for each other's support to appease the other candidates?"

"I believe so," Markus replied, "it's common knowledge that I support you, however if they believe the position of the Vice-Presidency is still up for grabs they will bend over backwards to position themselves in the running." He extended and shook the Senator's hand; "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Assuredly."

Bruce stared at the weapon inside the case, looking up at the Secret Service Agent who had brought it to him, suspicion flickering across his face as he looked down again.

"What the hell is this?" he inquired.

"It's believed that 'Sebastian' the would-be assassin is not human, and so our department is issuing these weapons to all active agents charged with security. Since you have seen our man, you should be armed as well." Bill Bowmen had been a Secret Service agent for about ten years, becoming the head of a potential Vice-Presidential candidate was seen as a big break for him, a chance to rise with the candidate and a little luck into a coveted presidential position. And if that meant he had to be creative in following Congressman Aquinas's orders then he would do so.

"E.T. with a high powered rifle in the rafters?" Maya shook his head, "beat's Colonel Mustard hands down." he pulled out the heavy pistol checking the charge as he powered it up, switching it for his standard sidearm and tucked it into his shoulder holster, "my first ray gun."

"We're co-ordinating with the other protection details in the building," Bowmen reassured, "if this creature surfaces you'll be the first to know."

"Really?" Maya stood and moved towards the door, "because traditionally when someone blows this much smoke up my ass...."

Bowmen hesitated, had he overplayed his hand by being too genial? Interdepartmental co-operation was always difficult but there were still instances where it went smoothly, despite the opinions of all involved. He did his best to shrug, "I'm not on Senator MacDonald's detail, but I know there are those of us that have a vested interest in his becoming President, namely a cushy promotion for me. That won't happen if he gets himself dead, y'know?"

Maya re-seated the PKD under his arm, "sure, figured there'd be a motive behind all this 'nice' warm and fuzzy bull." He jerked a thumb towards the door, "I'm going to go take a turn around the convention hall, get away from all these Democrat's acting like frat boys on Spring break. Keep me posted."

He wasn't buying the motivation for a second. He'd spent too many years dealing the FBI internal politics to have his suspicions so easily mollified by some story of personal gain. You didn't just hand over a valuable piece of military hardware to me in the name of inter-departmental co-operation, he was being set up and could smell it.

The empty convention hall was still having the finishing touches applied to it and resembled something out of an old World War Two propaganda film. A circular podium with red white and blue primary colours everywhere. Banks of monitors behind the candidate that some graphic artist would turn into a fantastic multimedia light show as soon as the Candidate was named. Fanfare, bands, lights and smiles that would herald the beginning of a long quest to the White House for whoever was named.

The multimedia display flickered to life with a test pattern, and a man standing before a camera somewhere looked down at the FBI agent, "good evening and welcome," he said in an educated voice, "Special Agent Maya I take it?"

Bruce's hand went to his weapon under his coat as he looked about the convention hall, a few people had stopped their work and were staring up at the screen in surprise. Maya turned his eyes about looking at the empty projection booth, then flicking across to the wings of the stages.

"Who wants to know?" he barked out.

"I am Sebastian, but then you know that." The figure on the monitor smiled, "I simply wanted to greet you properly and to inform you that I have planted a bomb in Senator MacDonald's offices, set to detonate in five minutes." He stepped aside and gestured at the device counting down behind him.

There were a few gasps of shock from the assembled volunteers and Maya cursed pulling out his cell phone, looking back up at the screen before he rushed off, sprinting towards the stairs that would take him up to the Senator's offices. Yelling for people to get clear as he ran, frantically dialling as he took the stairs two at a time and ran across the landing, bellowing into his phone for an emergency evacuation.

He hit the doors at a dead run, sliding into the outer office panting, his PKD drawn as he tried to catch his breath, looking at the collection of Secret Service Agents that had moved to cover the Senator and the President of the United States as they had been greeting each other. He had to be staring down the barrels of two-dozen guns.

"I-I'm sorry sir's," he coughed as he tried to stand up, "but I have reason to believe that there is an explosive device...." Pandemonium broke out as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

"He should be commended," Markus stated standing beside the limousine, staring up at the convention centre. It had been decided to evacuate everyone outside. The President being whisked off to somewhere secure while the building was swept for explosive devices.

Senator MacDonald sat in the back seat just inside the car, a ring of National Guardsmen encircled the collection of cars keeping the general public and the journalists at bay, he toyed with a crystal decanter, wanting desperately to take a stiff drink but knowing that all it would take is a lucky photographer snapping a picture of him taking a drink in the midst of a crisis and the media would roast him alive.

"Have they found anything?" MacDonald demanded, "I mean he's shut down the National Convention for Christ sakes!"

"His story has been corroborated by several other people in the Convention hall," Markus reassured, "he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing to ensure our safety...."

There was a dull boom followed by a roar as two entire floors of the hotel exploded outwards violently, causing the crowds to duck as the National Guard hefted their weapons, APC's gunning their engines as Secret Service Agents pushed Markus into the black car, slamming the doors as they started to drive. The vice-presidential hopeful climbing into his seat as he stared out of his window at the black cloud still rising into the sky, and gestured.

"As I said, I believe Special Agent Maya just saved all of our lives." He sank into his seat again and stared across the car at the Senator.

The motorcade rushed through the city streets heading for the airports and the waiting planes that could take them wherever they needed to go until the dust settled and they could figure out what to do next. Four black limousines bearing presidential candidates splitting into four different directions, shadow cars and military APC's covering them from potential attack.

Ahead at the bridge, two black troop carriers pulled to a halt, troops spilling out, black visored helms and Kevlar body armour completely unadorned, carrying assault rifles rushed to establish a roadblock. A pair of them setting up anti-tank rockets to await the arrival as around the city identical roadblocks were established by identical teams.

Special Agent Maya was in the car ahead of Senator MacDonald, he'd been relieved of his PKD by Bowmen who was sitting next to him in the SUV, his hands cuffed. Sitting staring ahead of him unaware of the trap that had been laid for them.

They were taking no chances, they had to be certain that Maya wasn't a part of the bomb plot. He could understand and appreciate that. It had to be late evening, and the motorcade roared through the empty city streets sirens blaring as they went. Maya taking a deep breath as he leaned to one side looking towards the river and up towards the bridge, his head tilting at the bright burst of light and the streaking object heading towards the APC ahead of them....

It erupted, jumping at least four feet into the air as it exploded crashing back down to careen into oncoming traffic. The driver of the SUV cutting the wheel and swerving to avoid the burning wreckage, not moving fast enough as the SUV hit the curb and flipped, rolling end over end to crash through the front store window before coming to a rest.

Maya blinked and frantically tried to get free of his seatbelt, crashing to the roof of the car below him as he looked up towards the crumpled forms of the Secret Service Agents, on instinct half standing to wrench his PKD out of Bowman's holster, ducking back down and throwing his weight against the door of the truck. Pulling himself free and shakily getting to his feet.

The fire fight was fierce, assault rifle's chattering as the troops gunned down the SMG wielding Secret Service Agents around the limo, the American troops rushing forward their own rifles returning fire to drive back the attackers.

Maya, his hands still bound ducked out into the street, swinging the PKD up and firing, sending one of the attackers flying backwards to crash sickeningly into a mail box. The FBI agent taking a confused step forward as the helmet fell from the attackers head revealing a white eyeless face, vaguely humanoid except almost albino white. Maggoty.

They were under attack from more aliens.

He sprinted back towards the limo; the front end of it, having been peppered by gunfire, smouldered. But the armoured body was still intact, troops keeping post around the car as they fought. Ignoring Maya as he ran through their ranks, slowing to a stop as he saw Bowmen pulling open the car door and yelling for the passengers to get out and to follow him to cover.

It took a moment for Maya to process that scene.... Bowmen was dead. Maya looked back towards the shattered storefront where the SUV still smoked, ducking as a bullet whistled past his head, dashing forward as he yelled out, "freeze!"

Bowmen turned, "what the hell Maya?"

"Freeze!" Maya commanded again, staring at the confused faces of the Congressman and the Senator, his PKD up as he advanced on the duplicate Bowmen, "put your god damn hands up!"

"Agent Maya!" The Senator began.

"That's not Agent Bowmen," Maya yelled back, keeping his weapon trained on the impostor, "Bowmen's dead back there...."

"What the hell is going on?" the Senator ducked as a row of assault rifle bullets stitched their way up the door of the limo, causing the Senator to jump back in shock. Bowmen went for his gun, turning to aim at the Senator as the PKD in Maya's hands roared again. Sending the impostor backwards, his face melting and reforming into Sebastian's. He snarled as he turned his weapon raising again.

Maya ramped up the charge on the PKD to full and emptied the power pack into the alien, felling him and slamming him kinetically into fish paste. The fighting behind them abated as the attackers began to retreat. And Maya moved to help cover the American troops from the door to the limo, looking over at the Senator and nodding.

"That's two that you now owe him," Markus calmly pointed out from his seat in the back of the limousine.

Senator MacDonald nodded his head in wonder.

"And you have your peace at last," Markus remarked looking at the goo that had been collected from the street. A sample to be sent back to the genetics lab with the Technician that had brought the PKD. A gift for Rikard as thanks for his participation in the plan.

He shook his head at the body, a terrible waste of a perfect assassin. The Nano-bots that had allowed the aliens face to alter its appearance were unrecoverable, however the genetic material, the capacity to regenerate almost as fast as a GN-2 would prove useful, as would the total lack of bone structure the creature possessed. If Rikard could recreate it then an army of perfect assassins would be born, ideal for the wars to come.

His plan had positioned the pieces he needed. Two other senior Presidential candidates were dead, and with the attack on Senator MacDonald well documented, he was sure to secure the nomination.

Given the light of the attack and the heroism that was entailed MacDonald had a solid boost heading into the election. Any man that could survive two assassination attempts had to be tough as nails, the kind of man that the populace wanted running the country in war time.

Future Vice-President Markus Aquinas nodded as he drew the sheet back over the goo and walked away. Straightening the little American Flag pin on his lapel, he had a press conference to attend where he would praise the valiant efforts of the Secret Service, Army and naturally Senator MacDonald.

"They performed well within expectations Doctor," Tthe Colonel reported sounding pleased, "Exactly as you predicted."

Enarbrem Sul'Rikard looked up from the tank where a group of larva crawled eating vegetable matter; behind him was a large glass observation window that overlooked a massive stone chamber, the Queen, now as large as a ship was under construction. Spitting out eggs that were being tended by worker drones, shifting them and sorting them into batches. Workers, technicians, and lastly warriors. Thousands of eggs, an Army that would, in a couple of years, be ready to match the Red Army.

"The AMSUS project will continue to meet and exceed expectations," Rikard vowed as he stood, "we have the resources we require, and now with a successful field test, I trust we can now begin production of the full army."

"I'm taking the liberty of securing them equipment," the Colonel reported, "mainly the Russian DT-09 rifles, the next generation AK-47's that have been cropping up since the war began. With our own manufacturers and defence contractors churning out weapons for our troops I thought it prudent to secure our supplied through the Mexico boarder. Mainly we have small arms, but once the forces are turned loose we can acquire additional resources that are captured from the enemy."

Rikard nodded his head, "in four years you will have an army a million strong. You merely have to equip them."

The colonel bowed his head, "and what keeps them under our control?" he tapped the glass as the hissing beetle larva snapped at his hand.

"I have altered their genetic structure, evolved them to a point where they can use and operate weaponry, however lack the mental capacity to do more than the simplest of tasks. I am not creating an army of one; they are incapable of a lot of the intuitive battle strategies that make human beings such effective killing machines.However I am working on advanced models, officers, capable of basic battlefield strategy, but I am still a number of years from that stage." He shifted and smiled tightly, "they are bred to be loyal, unimaginative and dependable. Many things the modern Army lacks, as you well know. They won't grow long hair; sit in parks and light candles. They won't sit in circles, passing drugs around and questioning authority. Give them an order and it will be done, without question."

"The ideal infantry," the Colonel smiled, "General Morgan is going to be pleased."

"General Morgan had better be," Rikard warned.

"Eastern Russia, Korea, China, Indo-china, the Philippines, Indonesia, and now Australia," Sephradon lowered the newspaper, shaking her head knowing that her bandages were due to come off that day, a happy day for her to finally be free of the curse that they had set upon her in the Phobos labs. She had been enjoying the news up until she had read the news of General Chow's latest conquests.

No one seemed to be aware of the danger that was rising in the Eastern Hemisphere, so consumed with war in the west. But then the middling human beings were so consumed with their own selves that they often forgot the larger picture. Like the fact that the Baltic states were uniting under a dynamic Slavic man, who's principal aide bore a striking resemblance to another of her sisters. Or the consolidation of the Japanese market behind the Denver Corporation, the first time in history that a national economy had been bought out by a consortium. Of course there was always the news of Sarah, who had turned her attention from Africa and was responsible for the Eastern Front, preparing for the inevitable conflict with Chow.

There were others hiding in the wings, secretly gaining control of the world out of survival. Embroiled in the war that circled the globe, fighting it, some of them unaware that they were fighting people they used to play games with on Phobos. It was almost laughable to Sephradon, except for the fact that she had been abandoned.

Everything she had, she had scratched for. And she had earned her place and no one, not even her power hungry brothers and sisters would take that away from her. She swore that adamantly.

When the doctors came to remove her bandages at last she felt a flurry of excitement, watching happily in the mirror as they pulled back to reveal a beautiful woman again. It was a timeless face, one so altered by the surgery where it was impossible to tell how old she was. She would never be young though, nor old, simply stuck in that limbo in between reserved for women with money and who could afford to stay that way forever.

She touched her features, her hands going up to her platinum blond hair and across her face again, a tear welling up in her eye as she felt the absence of the wrinkles that she had been forced to endure for so many years.

She opened her mouth to thank the doctor, the words freezing in her throat, her voice, cracked with age could not be hidden, she sounded like an old woman, and her tears of thanks turned cold, freezing to her face as her joy turned at first to pain at what she had lost to vengeance about what had been stolen from her.

The doctor died first, not even seeing the ice shards that she conjured from the humidity in the air, propelling into and through him with such violent force that it tore him apart. Blood splattering her white hospital gown as she strayed out into the halls of the clinic, her face a picture or righteous fury that she directed at them all.

It wasn't until her anger abated that she saw the old woman sitting in the chair at the end of her bed, unconcerned by the temper tantrum that had slain so many. Madam VonGrippen merely waited patiently for it to pass as she sat.

"Finished?" She asked as Sephradon sank back to the pillows.

Sephradon's eyes fluttered as she breathed heavily, "I...."

Madame VonGrippen rose from her chair, her silk skirts settling as she shifted the stole about her shoulders, she tapped a file of papers against her arm, "your pain will never go away," she said softly, "betrayal cuts.... especially when you are forgotten about. That pain is what drives us, because while they forget, we never do...." she turned the French paper over and showed Sephradon the cover of it, the headline detailing what had happened to the USS Colombia, talking about VonGrippen in a heroic light.

Sephradon's eyes drifted over the page as she looked to the other headline, the assassination attempt upon the Presidential candidates, looking past the photograph of Senator MacDonald to the smiling face of a man that had abandoned her.... Markus Aquinas.

"Vengeance is all we have," Madame VonGrippen insisted unaware of what held Sephradon's attention.

"Yes...." Sephradon murmured, looking up at the old woman and smiling coldly.