s on Earth, cutie. To face them, you'll need, oh, about half that number of troops, since you're going to be fighting a guerilla war. Now, not every one has to have talent, but about one out of three does, so they can protect the others. That's a hundred thousand or so_ trained _telepaths, Jayce. There's like no possible way to find that many, train them, then hide them. Then consider that there are about fifty thousand_ Imperial _troops here, and they_ will _fight. It would be really, really hard to run by an Imperial Marine and tell her that your fight isn't with her, cause she'll shoot you in the back. And if you do fight her, you just got Empress Dahnai pissed at you. It makes it really hard to plead your case with her when you're shooting her troops._

_But, I'll tell you what, some of your ideas make sense to work for_ even if _you never go to that next step. Faey-proofing a piece of this place is a good idea. Being able to move around in the skimmer is a_ great _idea. Arming some people we can trust out here with weapons that my old house will respect is another good idea. Creating a hiding place to use as a last resort in case we have to run is another very good idea. Inventing a few new things to whip out as surprises is a good idea. This is_ our _turf now, cutie, and we should defend it, even from my former house. If they poke their noses around, they get them shot off. After we give fair warning, anyway,_ she sent with a wink.

Jason sighed. He didn't consider some of those possibilities, and she was more or less right. _Okay, so it_ is _a bit far-fetched,_ he admitted. _But I won't ever give up on the idea of it, Symone. Even if it's utterly hopeless, I'll still work towards it, because so long as I do, then I haven't given up, and I'll be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning._

_Nothing wrong with that, cutie,_ she sent quite seriously. _Nothing wrong at all._

_Thanks, Symone. I didn't realize you were so military-minded._

_I_ did _manage to stay awake during basic combat training,_ she grinned, looking over at him. _Actually, I'm pretty good at it. I have my first class sniper ribbon, I'll have you know._

_Have you ever fought anyone?_

_Sure,_ she answered. _House soldiers fight a hell of a lot more than a Marine does. I've been involved in four separate_ incidents _between my house and another. Basically all four were just skirmishes, but we did shoot at each other. The Empress frowns on it, but it goes on._

_What kind of skirmishes?_

_Just basic stupid shit,_ she answered. _Defending my post from raids. Once they slated me to go on a raid, but it got called off._

_Raid?_

_When one house sends soldiers to attack a position belonging to another house,_ she explained. _This military position, that factory, just idiotic stunts the nobles pull to piss each other off and get commoners killed. The Empress doesn't like houses to raid each other because she says it weakens our overall defense and industrial output. Personally, I think she's right, but they should stop it just because it's damn silly. So you didn't like what that Countess in that other house said, fine, but that's no reason to send a dropship of armed women down to a hovercar windshield factory and blow it up. That's just stupid._

Jason chuckled absently. "I guess it is at that," he agreed aloud. "So, we have a date tomorrow. You feel like you'll be ready?"

_Hell yes,_ she answered, putting her hand on her injured shoulder and rotating her shoulder a few times. _The only place it hurts is right on my skin, everything else is healed up. There wasn't any permanent damage, and what little's left'll probably be healed by tomorrow morning. I already tried on my armor, and those patches you did really look good. Those cloth swaths inside feel weird, but until we get some extra gel-back, I can live with it. How we gonna play it?_

_Disarm, round up, then lay down the law,_ he answered. _No killing unless they start throwing explosives at us or something, you know, like using weapons that might actually hurt us. I want this to be as bloodless as possible._

_Aren't we chasing them out?_

He nodded. _But we're not throwing them out with nothing. We find their food storage and split it up evenly between them, then let them leave with it. We'll hit the west end gang first, then hit the downtown, then hit the east end gang. With some luck, we'll have all of Huntington cleared out by sunset._

_We giving them any warning?_

_And ruin the surprise? That's not smart,_ he smiled. _You'll use the hoverbike, I'll use the antigrav pods in my armor. That way we can move fast if necessary._

_Trelle's Garland, I'd_ love _armor like yours,_ she said with a lusty sigh. _That's what we get issued when we're just about anywhere other than here. Most of the career types buy their_ own _armor. I think now I wish I would have done that, but a good suit of armor costs about a year's salary._

_What, about thirty thousand or so?_

_Try about fifty thousand._

_Hmm,_ he mused. _I think I need to find a way to get access to my bank account without anyone noticing. They're_ still _sending royalty payments to it._

_Call that overly clever Trillane. I'm sure she knows someone that knows someone that can pull it off. She'll probably keep half of it, but getting some of it is better than getting none,_ she added with a wink.

_That's an idea,_ he sent with a nod. _In fact, I'll do that now._

_Cool, I'll go make something to eat._

He went back down into the house using the attic window, then went to his bedroom. He moved everything back into the master bedroom, mainly because the itcher wasn't in use anymore. Now all he had were his street mines and proximity sensors, but with Clem here, that was enough time to get back to the house and get weapons. His panel was open and up, currently just showing a map of Chesapeake and the status of his sensors and traps, for the panel now ran the defenses. He put that process into the background and brought up the comm, then called Kumi's private number.

She appeared wearing a floppy shirt of some kind, and the room was dark. Jason cursed to himself and blew out his breath. "Damn it, I'm sorry Kumi," he said before she could say a word. "I misread the time."

"Not a problem, babe," she answered alertly. "I was _about_ to go to bed. If you'd have called twenty minutes later, then I'd have been mad."

"What time is it there?"

"Midnight," she answered. "I'm turning in early. So, what'cha need, babe?"

"How hard would it be to find someone to make the royalty payments I'm getting from the Ministry of Science to go to another bank account?"

Her eyes brightened. "I've been waiting for you to ask me about that," she grinned. "Hold on a second." She vanished from in front of her vidlink for almost two minutes, then came back and furiously typed something. "Okay, babe, thumb your panel."

"Why?"

"Just do it, nit," she told him brusquely.

Uncertain over her motives but trusting her, he did as she asked. "Okay, babe, there should be an account file uploading to your panel."

He looked down, and saw that there was indeed. He also noticed that their comm session had shifted into a secure mode, something he'd never seen before. "Yeah, welcome to Trillane's _Goreda_ Security Protocol," she winked. "Not even the Secret Police can track what we're doing now. Okay, that account file is a bank account out of Moridon. The First Bank of Moridon, to be precise. It's a neutral planet, sovereign, that specializes in banking and finances. Nobody conquers them because most governments in the galaxy use Moridon as a kind of neutral meeting place."

"And I bet that's where you have that secret bank account you have set up," he smiled.

She nodded. "Moridons don't tell anyone _shit_ about their customers," she told him. "And their computer security makes us look like we're still using electricity. Now, open the file."

He did so. It was a bank account file, and to his surprise, it had his name on it. "You already set it up?" he asked in surprise.

"I set up that part of it," she answered. "When you thumbed up, you activated the account. I can't fake that, like I said, Moridons have pretty strong security. Now, just give me a few minutes. Those royalty payments right now are being channeled to _my_ account," she admitted with a grin. "I figured what the hell, you couldn't use it, and the Ministry won't stop sending the payments unless you're confirmed dead. That's the law. Even if you were in prison, they'd still pay you."

"You were stealing my money?" he asked, then he laughed. "Kumi!"

"Hey, I never said I was nice," she winked. "I'll give it back to you. Minus a twenty five percent fee, of course," she said with a smirk.

"Kumi, you're _evil_!" he laughed.

"I know," she admitted. "Hold on, I gotta remember how to do this."

"Do what?"

"Redirect the money. Someone else did this for me, and he left me instructions on how to change it if I ever wanted it to go to a different account. He's a computer wiz, someone I met at one of my parties. He's a _zarinen_ in House Trefani. Trefani's infamous for being the main house behind organized crime," she told him. "Here it is. Give me a few minutes. I have to go to the Ministry and change the account number. Hold on a few."

Jason wasn't sure whether to be mad or amused. Kumi had had that friend of hers hack the Ministry and redirect Jason's royalty payments to her own account, and hadn't said anything. She could have offered to do it for him, but had instead kept quiet. But, on the other hand, the instant he asked about it she came clean. So, it wasn't like she was going to be deliberately deceptive... she was just seeing how much she could get away with. He watched her face as she typed on the keys of her comm panel or panel or whatever she was using, and decided that he'd forgive her this time. "Okay, I'm done. The contact info for the bank is in that file, you just connect to them through CivNet or call them. They'll demand a retinal scan before I can send any money into the account, you thumbing it just activated an application. So call the bank and get that done, then call me back."

"Got it. Talk to you in a few."

She nodded and her picture vanished. Jason noted that the panel came out of that secure mode, then deleted a bunch of data out of its memory. Probably the client program for that security protocol.

Jason called the number in the file, and found himself looking at a rather scary-looking creature with black skin, glowing red eyes, and large curled horns growing out of its head. If Jason had ever imagined a demon, that's what it would look like. "First Bank of Moridon," the creature said in a surprisingly pleasant voice.

"Uh, yeah, I just activated an account I set up over CivNet," he told the creature. "I was told I needed to call in and provide a retinal scan before I could deposit money in it."

"Race?" he asked.

"Human-er, Terran," he corrected, recalling that they weren't called _humans_ by the Faey, at least officially.

"One moment while I call up a biological profile. Retinal scan is an identity method we use for _some_ races," it explained, obviously seeing the question in Jason's eyes. "Once I have your biological data, I'll connect you with a bank officer which can assist you."

"I understand. You have to find a way for secure identity with my race."

"Yes," it nodded. "I have the data. One moment while I transfer you."

Jason found himself looking at a tasteful logo for the bank, with three pyramids pointing corners at a white globe in the middle, almost reminiscent of the old nuclear symbol that used to be prevalent on Earth before the subjugation. After just a few seconds, he found himself staring at another black-skinned horned creature, but this one had glowing green eyes, and had a sharper face. "Mr. Jason Fox?" it asked in a higher-pitched voice. A female? "I am Gurath Ka'Than, assistant account officer. You wish to verify identity to fully open the account you applied for?"

He nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"One moment please," it asked, reading something to the side of the window where Jason's face probably was. "I see here that I have several options for secure authentication. You're remarkably similar to the Faey," it noted. "You used a unique external signature to activate the first phase of the opening process, a unique digit print. Our policy is to require at least three separate and unique biometric signatures for personal transactions. This print pattern of the thumb will serve as the first. I read here that your retinal patterns are also unique, so that will be the second. A spectrographic pattern will serve as the third." It typed something on its keyboard, then looked at him. "Look at your monitor please, and remain still."

Unsure, he did as it asked, and there was a dull red flash over his monitor window. He blinked a few times and got a minor headache. "Thank you. Your biometric data is being added to your account. Remember that any time you wish to conduct business over CivNet, you need access to a vidlink-enabled communication device. Our automated computer banking services require video ability to authenticate your retinal pattern and spectrographic pattern."

"That's all you need?"

"For authentication, but there's some paperwork that needs filled out before your account is fully open. I'll need your thumbprint signature on this form," it said, and a text form appeared in place of its face. "Please take a moment to read it, then sign on the line at the bottom and press your thumb to your monitor in the red box when complete."

Jason read it over. It was a contract agreement between him and the bank, spelling out the bank's services and fees and its security, and a list of conditions that went with the account. He found their banking policies quite attractive, but also noticed that the fees for this account were rather high. But then again, this was a "numbered account," completely anonymous to the outside world and all information about it savagely defended by the bank, the kind of account a criminal or very rich person would have. The fees were high, but the account offered quite a few services. Virtually any financial service he could dream of, legal services, all conducted with the utmost privacy and anonymity, and since his was a very prestigious kind of account, they even offered transportation services and concierge services on planets where the bank had a branch.

Jason pressed his thumb in the proper place and then used the rarely used dowel to sign on the line, which caused the form to flash a few times and then vanish. "Very good," the creature whose face reappeared said. "You account is open. Verification is being sent to your comm panel now. May I register this comm panel as your personal contact number? I assure you, it will _never_ be used unless there is an emergency that requires your immediate notification. The privacy of our clients is our utmost concern."

"Yeah, that's fine," he answered.

"Welcome to the First Bank of Moridon," it said with a smile that showed all kinds of nasty-looking, pointed red teeth. "You account is now active. Please keep in mind that you need to transfer at least five hundred credits into the account by the end of business tomorrow, standard time, to cover the initial fees."

"I understand."

"If you have any questions about our services or your account, feel free to call or access us through CivNet."

"I will. Thank you."

It nodded. "Have a pleasant day."

Jason had to shudder a little bit. _That_ was a Moridon? They were _creepy_.

He called Kumi back quickly. She appeared again, but with the lights on this time. "You done?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I already changed things at the Ministry so your payments go to your new account. Now I need to transfer over what I already got, and you have to set up the transfer of my twenty five percent to _my_ account," she said with a greedy little smile. "You'll do that through the bank. Just call them back and tell them that you want a quarter of payments from the Ministry transferred to another account. They'll be able to set it up."

"A quarter? Well, we might have to talk about that, seeing as how you tried to steal it in the first place," he said with a slight smile.

She laughed. "Okay, you got me. Twenty percent."

"Let's try ten."

"Fifteen."

"Deal," Jason said immediately.

"Okay, I'm transferring your money over. You _do_ trust that I'm sending what I'm supposed to, don't you?" she asked winsomely as her fingers flew across her keyboard.

"I guess," he chuckled. "Do you need me to authorize it?"

"Nah, the bank will accept any _deposit_ without you having to authorize it. In fact, it's there now," she told him. "I've got three royalty payments, totaling about two hundred thousand credits, so I'm sending over a hundred and fifty. I _still_ get a quarter of what I already have," she said with an outrageous grin. "Besides, I need that money. I threw a wild party a couple of days ago, and I paid for it using this money. I'm sending over one fifty cause it's all I _have_."

"Well, you might just have to go into debt," he mused, then he laughed at her outraged look. "It's alright, Kumi," he assured her.

"Don't make a young girl old, babe," she said darkly. "Oh, is that other one with you now?"

"What other one?"

"I'm a _Trillane_, babe. I heard about another human expressing, one that's a friend of yours. They shot down him and a Faey who helped him not far from where I met you, so I guess they were coming to see you. Did they reach you?"

"They think they're alive?" he gasped.

"Not for sure, but they sent back a recovery dropship to find the bodies and recover the wreckage of the skimmer. They got the skimmer, but couldn't find the bodies. They think they were swept away by the river current, but then I got to thinking. If that Faey was in her armor, she'd survive the crash easily, so I think they're still alive."

Wow. Tank and Willy must have collected them up, then Jason arrived and took everyone away before the recovery ship arrived. Luck and _timing_ had saved Tim and Symone... and him too.

"I see from your reaction they made it to you," she winked. "Well, your secret is safe with me, babe. Okay, I'm sending you my bank account number. Remember, fifteen percent. I trust you."

"I'll take care of it. You need to get to sleep, Kumi."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I have a long day tomorrow," she said.

"Doing what?"

"I have _bartha _practice in the morning, then I have my _tumiya_ lessons," she said, looking down. Bartha was a game, vaguely similar to hockey or soccer, played by teams of seven. The objective was to knock a ball through the opposing goal, but the ball had a suspensor field in it that made it float, and the players wielded large bat-like devices to hit the ball. What made it different was that the goal was about thirty feet in the air, and was defended by a robotic blocker operated by one of the players, the "goalie." That person had to both play the game and defend the goal, which made it the most demanding position. He remembered watching it late one night on TV. A tumiya was a ten-stringed instrument similar to a guitar, but it sounded more like a plucked violin. It was one of the instruments played in most Faey orchestras. "I also have a doctor's appointment. I forgot about that," she grunted. "After that I have a party to go to," she winked. 
"Sounds like a full day," he noted.

"Yeah, usually I don't have that many things happening on one day. Just a schedule convergence, I guess," she chuckled. "Oh, yeah, thought you should know something."

"What?"

"All my girlfriends think you're _gorgeous_," she said with an outrageous grin. Then she ended the call.

Think he's-she _didn't_! She did! She showed that picture of him she took to her friends!

That, that, that _rat_! She promised she wouldn't do anything with it!

He felt a sudden flare of indignation, and not a little embarrassment, then he laughed helplessly. She did say that, but she didn't promise not to show it to her friends.

Oh well, he'd have to come up with a way to get her, that was for sure. No way he could leave that alone.

Awful brave of her to say that _before_ he set up giving her her split.

But he was a man of his word, and giving her 15% wasn't much to ask for getting access to his money. With an untraceable panel (also thanks to Kumi), he could buy things... he just had to figure out how to get it to him.

Kumi, of course.

He'd have to avail himself of the Kumi Delivery Service soon. There was something he wanted, and besides, he had to get her back.

                                        * * *

Clearing out Huntington was an exercise in amusement if anything else.

By sunrise, they were armored and ready. Symone fidgeted a bit as she got it settled on her, and Tim, his cast now covered in little drawings and sketches that Symone had put on it (many of which were quite nice, Symone was talented as an artist), sat in front of Jason's panel with a headset on his head and ready to do his part. Jason had reconfigured both his and Symone's telemetry to broadcast on a threaded hyperfrequency with a range of only about five miles, and the receiver was patched into his panel. That telemetry included audio and video, for Faey armor came standard with cameras, microphones, and sensors that kept track of the wearer's vital signs. Armed with an accurate map of Huntington and surrounding towns, Tim was ready to track their movements and serve as a second pair of eyes for them. Though his broken arm and lack of armor meant he couldn't directly help, he could still do what he could to further the cause.

"Ready, Jayce?" Symone asked as she had Tim push down on the shoulders of her armor, to settle it into place.

Jason nodded, and then went over and turned on the CB he'd gotten. He tuned it to channel 19, which was the channel everyone used, and a channel he was positive all the gangs listened to in order to try to track down and catch others. "Keep an ear on that channel, Tim," he told his friend. "That's what the locals use. And on the desk is a radio the downtown gang uses. If you hear anything interesting, let us know."

"You got it, Jayce," Tim nodded, sitting down and slapping the tabletop. "I'm ready."

"Let's go clean out some low-lifes," Symone winked at Jason before putting on her helmet.

With Tim directing them, they quickly and efficiently swept Huntington clean. They started in the west end, all the way in Kenova. Symone and Jason used their talent to track down anyone in the vicinity, then Symone did the honors of subduing them with telepathy, to hide Jason's talent from them. It was done at a distance, and since at first nobody realized what they were doing, it was ridiculously easy. They were disarmed, tied up, then Symone transported them to a central location with her airbike while Jason tracked down their next target. Symone was putting them in the old Redmen Bingo hall at the foot of the west end bridge. Tim would guide her back to Jason, and they'd do it again.

It took just two hours to round up the west end gang, first by capturing their patrols, then assaulting their home base. Jason was impressed by Symone when she barged in and quickly subdued twenty humans in a matter of moments, letting them shoot at her to their heart's content. There had been one injury when a ricocheted bullet hit a man in the shin, but it wasn't serious at all. They then ranged up into downtown Huntington, and it took them about three hours to round up the sixty or so members of the downtown gang, first the patrols and then the two concentrations of unmoving gang members. The east end, though, was a bit trickier. They had more territory and were spread out, and besides, by then they knew that something was going on. The last remnants of the downtown gang suspected that someone was out there taking out their patrols, and the east end gang immediately realized it when their first patrol didn't respond. Rounding up the last remnants of the gang had required some actual firing, because they'd lobbed some hand grenades at Symone as she approached the State Police barracks where they holed up. Jason and Symone backed off, and Jason demonstrated some of the more interesting aspects of his railgun... such as its ability to go through concrete and steel like it wasn't there. Seeing an array of bluish corkscrew trails appear over their heads, and seeing the neat holes that it put in the walls-_both_ walls!-even punching holes in glass without shattering it, took the fight right out of them. They quickly realized that Jason could just stand outside and turn the building into swiss cheese, and there was absolutely _nowhere_ they could go to escape from it.

Surrender was inevitable at that point.

By sunset, they had captured all three gangs, which were tied to chairs at the bingo hall, and it was over. Jason and Symone transported the sixteen gang members that were the last ones caught back to the bingo hall, and then they got up on one of the tables so they could all see them. They weren't surprised at all when Symone took off her helmet, but they were a bit surprised to see Jason under the other suit of armor.

"Good, I have your attention," Jason told them as he looked over the hundred and twenty or so people tied to chairs in the hall. "As you can see, I've been joined by a Faey. She's a good friend of mine from the outside world, and after a little altercation, she decided that living out here was better than spending the rest of her life in a prison. But enough of that. When she got here, she raised some pretty valid arguments as to why I tolerate you people living over here, especially since I _know _you know that another family's moved in down the street from me. She also raised some interesting notions about attracting people to this area and forming a community that works together instead of fighting each other, and wouldn't you know, I think she had some damn good ideas.

"So, this is what's going to happen. My lovely assistant here is going to find out where you keep all your weapons and food stores. All of them, right down to your oldest pellet gun and dented can of beans."

"That's me," Symone said in English with a wide grin, waving at the crowd. "Emphasis on the lovely, of course."

"Of course," Jason drawled. "Given she's a Faey, and it's pretty obvious _how_ she's going to find out, we can all be pretty sure that we're not going to miss anything. If you know about it, _we'll_ know about it. Once we collect up all your guns, explosive, knives, sharpened toothbrushes, women's frying pans, rubber chickens, you know, everything, we'll let you go. Each of you will be rationed an equal portion of the food stores we collect, allowed to gather your personal possessions, and then you're on your own. That basically means you'll be run out of town, and you'll have to find somewhere else to live.

"But, if you decide you'd rather stay and be a part of the new system, you'll get your chance. My lovely assistant here will verify the sincerity of your claim, and if she deems you honest about wanting to live a more peaceful life, you'll be allowed to remain. Anyone she deems untrustworthy is gone. And do keep in mind, she _is_ a Faey. You can't lie to her, you can't hide anything from her, and if you decide later on after you win your chance to live here that you change your mind, she'll know about it immediately."

Jason looked around, and listened to their thoughts. They were shocked, afraid, nervous, and very, very uncertain, but not a few of them seemed to contemplate the possibilities of living without carrying around a gun. "Now, everyone's going to be untied in small groups so you can get a break. I'm sure that some of you need to go to the bathroom, and some of you have been here for a while, so I'm sure you're hungry. We have water and some cans of food in the other room for you, so don't worry."

It went rather well. In groups of ten, Jason and Symone untied them and let them relieve themselves outside, then let them eat and drink quickly in the other room, whose only door opened out into the main room. That left twenty at a time free, but given that their captors had put their helmets back on, which rendered them absolutely invulnerable to anything that the unarmed gang members could throw at them, took the fight out of them almost as fast as the first and only time Symone used her telepathy to subdue one of the first men she untied. He'd lunged at her, but she didn't even flinch as she took total control of him. She paraded him back and forth for the benefit of the others, even made him strip down to his underwear and sing _I'm a Little Teapot_. That display sucked the resistance right out of them. Some of them had never seen a Faey in person before, having run off to the hills before the evacuation, and only had stories and rumor to go on about Faey telepathy. Seeing it in use, in person, was an eye-opening experience.

By ten, Symone had correlated with Tim on the location of every weapon and food stash owned by all three gangs. By two in the morning, with the help of Luke, Clem, and Mary, they had every one of those stashes. By five, every single scrap of food held by all three gangs was stacked neatly in the bingo hall. All the gang members were all tired from lack of sleep and sore from being tied, which made them perfectly set up for Symone, for their responses would be much more genuine. One by one, Symone took them into the back room. Jason sat in on those sessions while Tim, Luke, and Clem kept guard over the others, as he observed how Symone went about probing the deepest thoughts of the gang members. She would ask them questions, and those questions would trigger thoughts and feelings that she would read, which she used to probe even deeper until she got at the truth she wanted. The time of mindscape was much faster than the physical world, and each interview only took about five minutes.

When all was said and done, 127 people, over 90%, were deemed too much of a risk to be allowed to remain. Oddly enough, the woman who had replaced Joe Bueller as the downtown gang boss, a sharp-faced woman named Regina Thompson, was allowed to remain. Those people were given an equal share of the stockpiled food, and wer