Mike felt as if he were floating on a sea of clouds, the exhaustion he felt before was slowly slipping away. It was moments like these that Mike felt at peace with himself and memories of the past just remained in the past. His peace was short lived, as the dreams started again. Mike was five years old again, he was awoken by the sounds of screaming coming from down stairs in the kitchen. He crept out of bed and soundlessly walked down the stairs.

It sounded like his daddy was drunk again, mostly complaining loudly about his rotten life, his rotten job, his ugly wife, and his no good bed-wetting son. Mike was always frightened when his dad got like this, sooner or later Robert Anderson would start taking out his frustration out on his wife.

Some days' mom would have bruises on her face, arms or legs, and would jump at the slightest noise. One day when Mike came home from kindergarten, his dad was just starting in on his mom. After the first blow to her face, Mike ran to protect his mom from the violent drunk. That only pissed his dad off even more and finally 'noticed' his son.

From that day forward Mike received his fair share of the beatings. Robert was 5'10 and out weighed Mike by at least a hundred and sixty pounds, Mike was only 3'6 at the time. It wasn't even a challenge for Bob. The dreams start to collide into each other and reforms in another time. Mike had just turned thirteen, and when he had gotten home from school expecting to a least get a cake to commemorate his birthday, he was sadly mistaken. Bob sneered at Mike, when he had mentioned his birthday, and had a good laugh at his expense.

Bob told little 'Mickey', that he had spent the money meant for cake and presents on beer and parts for his old Dodge Charger. Well Mick was upset at this and called his dad a 'good for nothing lazy fuck up, who took out his frustration out on his family for his own personal failures.' Well, after that Mike was severely beat worse than before. Only on his thirteenth birthday instead of the presents and cake, Mike was in the Emergency Room with: two fractured bones in his right arm, a broken rib from being kicked in the ribs repeatedly, a busted lip, and laceration to his right eyebrow.

Bob had his wife put makeup to cover the bruises she had and had her make up a convincing story about how some older neighborhood kids ganged up on their son. The hospital officials were suspicious, but couldn't prove anything to the contrary. Mike later had two pins and a metal plate placed inside of his arm to reinforce the bones.

The laceration on his eyebrow left a permanent scar, running down vertically from his forehead through is eyebrow and along the outer edge of his eye. From that day on Mike hoped and prayed that his dad would suddenly die and both his mom and Mike would be free. The dream collapsed again swirling like a kaleidoscope of color until it focused on the worst memory of Mikes' life.

He had turn seventeen three months before and was on his way into his house when the phone rang. He ran to pick up, on the other end a police officer asked if this was Mike Anderson. Mike confirmed this, and the officer reported that there had been a car accident involving his parents. Mike thought at the moment that his dad had gotten drunk again and drove off with his mom to somewhere and he died as a result. The officer shot down the theory even before he voiced it. His parents were hit by a drunk driver killing them instantly.

Mike had no one in the world now except his friend Emily. He wasn't going into child services, so he got himself emancipated, finished up school, and applied to college under a scholarship. Apparently, the house was bought and paid off years ago, and his parents had large insurance polices to cover the essentials for the time being and put the rest of the insurance money in the bank to earn interest. He had the house, money, and peace at last, but he was alone in more ways than one. This time the dream fizzled from his conscientiousness as sweet darkness enveloped him.

He woke with a start, gasping for breath, and disoriented with his surroundings. For several moments he couldn't remember where he was. Then the scenes of carnage came back in a rush. He looked up and noticed that all of slaves were milling about talking to each other. The bodies of the fallen slavers still lay where they fell. Pools of blue blood covered most of the deck.

Talking among the slave's stop as they notice that Mike was stirring. They pulled back to the far corner of the bay and huddled together. Mike realized that they were afraid of him. He needed to get up and figure out what he was going to do with these people. He slowly stood, keeping his hands down at his sides avoiding any hostile gestures. "They can't tell what I am underneath the suit. Maybe if I took off the suit they would relax a little," thought Mike. He reach up and unsealed the helmet, a loud hiss resulted. He took the helmet of and he heard the slaves' gasp as they looked upon his face. Apparently he was not what they expected.

The small child that he had saved came forward from the group and looked at Mike with awe in her eyes. She did the last thing Mike would have expected her to do. She ran towards Mike away from the group of slaves. Some tried to grab her, but she yanked herself free and made to Mike without complication. She lunged at Mike and grabbed him in a fierce hug, which he returned.

He smile at the antics of the child and picked her up an walked towards the slaves. She held on around his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. One of the slaves, a middle aged man with a sour expression on his face, walked towards Mike. He looked at the girl with disdain, before he spoke.

"Release that thing right now, Cerelia" "I just wanted to thank him. You don't have to get mean about it Gannon" replied Cerelia.

"You, put her down this instant," said Gannon, while making the obvious hand gesture as to where he was suppose to let her down. Mike was wondering what had crawled up this guys' ass and died. Mike complied with his 'request', though he didn't like the treatment he was receiving.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is pal, but from the looks of things I just saved all of your lives' and the attitude towards me really isn't helping," said Mike.

Gannon was surprised at what Mike had just said and apparently the others were as well. Mike removed Crimson from his back and laid him on the deck so he could remove his combat suit without any interference. The slaves watch as the suit came off of its' own accord, to reveal Mikes' uniform.

When the suit was completely off, Mike stretched his aching muscles and worked his stiff joints. He earn a couple bone popping sounds form his back and his shoulders. Mike crouched down so Cerelia could thank him, just as she was about to come forward when Mike saw Gannon reach up his sleeve for something. Everything seem to slow down, Cerelia moving to hug Mike as a smile slowly spread across her face. Gannon withdrawing a filed shive from his sleeve and gripping it in his right hand brought down the sharpened weapon in Mike general direction.

The shive was moving towards Mike, but saw that it would intercept with the girl before it completed its' journey. Mike had to act now if he was going to save the girls' life. He grabbed the girl and swung her around shielding her with his body. The shive struck Mikes' shoulder, the sound of ripping fabric could be heard throughout the bay. There was a lot of pain in his shoulder and couldn't believe that this fucker just stabbed him.

Mike released the girl and rose up to face the piece of shit behind him. If Mike had the opportunity to look into a mirror, he wouldn't be able to recognize the person starring back at him. His eyes were mere slits of smoldering green fire, while the muscles in his face were like hardened marble. He was pissed. And Gannon just realized how screwed he was.

Mike didn't mince words in a situation like this, he just acted. Gannon took a defensive posture as he saw Mike coming his way. He lashed out at Mike with a right cross to his face and following it up with a left upper cut. When the hits landed Mike didn't even bother to put up a defensive, he just took them and was amused at how weak these hits were. Mike aloud himself a small chuckle. He then kicked the shmuck right in the nuts.

A high pitch scream later, Gannon was vomiting the contents of his stomach on the deck. He then picked the nearly conscientious man under his arms, not even noticing obviously how heavy he was. Gannon was on his feet by then with a barely thought out idea came to his mind. He tried kicking Mike in his abdomen, but Mike caught his leg before he made contact. Mike held on to the leg and swung the shmuck with all of his might.

Mike was surprised at what happened next, like the alien he tossed before, Gannon went flying further than the alien did. The man struck the floor, tumbling and rolling fifteen feet. He slowly got up, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his left arm hung limply at his side. Mike thought that it was time to finish this fight. He ran toward the slave, deciding to tackle him to cause the least damage. Less than five feet away Mike leaps at the broken man. Mike flew at the man at an amazing speed, but didn't stop when he made contact. He had the man around the middle and still kept going for at least another seven feet. When Mike finally got up, he wonder what in the hell had just happened. He looked down at the slave, he was definitely not going to get ever again. Mike walked back to the group of slaves, some skirted away from him, watching with awe expressions. Cerelia didn't back away from Mike and came right up to him.

"Sir, exactly what are you?" the little girl said. "Kid, at the moment even I don't know the answer to that question," replied Mike. A much younger man came forward, curiosity written on his face. At first, he had difficulty trying to speak to Mike. The young man apparently had been punched in the throat, not nearly hard enough to kill him, as a punishment for slacking off.

"Who are you? Where do you come from? And why are you so strong?," said the man in a hoarse voice. Mike went into sparing details on the who's and the where's. The last question threw him through a loop. He thought Crimson might be able to answer that question. But now was not the time. He wanted some answers from the slave and any info on the empire would come in handle.

"Where are you people from? Who or what are these things? And what is the current status of the empire?," asked Mike. The young man, whose name is Jax, started to answer Mike's questions.

"All of us, even Gannon, are from a world called Callisto. About seven hundred years ago, these slavers came to our world and took us by surprise. Callisto was a beautiful paradise, abundant in resources and it's natural scenery. When the world was theirs, it became a slave planet. No one was spared, any who resisted were put to death. They are called the Dagons.

Their civilization is built on the backs of slaves and stolen resources. When they first attack they were using primitive technology, we were confident enough that we could repel them indefinitely. What they lacked in technology, they made up for it in numbers. Thousands upon thousands of ships and soldiers crashed into our defenses. For every one we killed three would take their place. Soon our defenses crumbled under the oppression of their forces. They used our technology to improve their own and used us as they saw fit." Jax stated.

He took a pregnant pause to gather his thoughts. The look on his face showed a small amount of strain on his vocal cords. He took a deep breath and continued we his tale. "The empire is nothing more than a few weak confederations with strained alliances with each other. It all started back with Emperor Shinza and his expansion program. He already had one third of the galaxy, but he wanted more. Some groups found that this was a waste of money, resources, and people. These groups started sabotaging ships meant for colonization and exploration, in hopes of curving the emperor's thoughts toward expansion.

That only made him try harder. A total of over twenty-six-hundred ships, disappeared and all hands presumed lost, in little over two hundred years. These saboteurs eventually got fed up with the emperor and started a civil war that spanned his entire territory. Billions died either from military action, starvation, or disease.

That was the first time the empire fell. It later reestablished itself after a hundred years of infighting among the scavengers trying to piece together a enough power to conquer the galaxy as warlords. Over the next several centuries the empire fell and arisen from the ashes of its' death. All sorts of information were lost during this time, including technological specification for ship and weapons designs.

Five hundred years ago the empire fell again and stayed that way as small groups gather all the ships and supplies they could and mark out their piece of the galaxy. Compared to the ships that existed in the time of Emperor Shinza, our ships are but pitiful and weak tugs. It was said that the old ships had cloaking devises and powerful weaponry. But who knows if that were ever true or not. The Dagons came from another part of the galaxy and took over half the territories when the last empire fell. Many have fell to their slave holds and are never seen again." Jax appeared to be done talking.

All of this information would need to be discussed with Sam later. Right now Mike had more questions for these slaves. A slow throbbing from his shoulder made its presence known and reminder what had happened earlier. Mike had Jax come over to have a look at his shoulder to see how much damage Gannon had done. Jax came forward with Cerelia on his heels, concern for her hero was plain to see.

Mike turn around and peeled back the uniform so they could see the damage. Both of the slaves gasp when Mike peeled his uniform off his shoulder. Mike could hear mummers from the others, but couldn't make out what they were saying. He was getting anxious about what was going on. He turned back to face the group of thirty or so slaves and asked what was wrong.

A stooped old man came towards Mike, the shackles on his wrists clinking with every step. He stopped three feet from Mike, his violet eyes piercing in their brightness.

"Your wound is not serious, in fact it looks like a simple scratch. We all saw Gannon strike you, he is one of the strongest among the slaves here, but when the blow landed it only cut your clothes and merely scratched your skin. We have seen Gannon deliver similar blows to others back in the slave pens, they did not last more than five minutes after the blow was dealt."

Mike was beginning to worry at what the old man was saying. Was he in danger from some sort of slow acting poison? The old man watched Mike's features and spoke in a annoyingly calm voice.

"The shive was not poisoned, poison is very hard to come by even on the slave planets. When we saw the blade strike you the blade chipped and shattered. What we saw was impossible. It appears even you were unaware of this happening at the time. So this means that you haven't had the opportunity to be stabbed."

The old man bent over to retrieve something from the floor, it looked like a very worn piece of wood with metal shards jutting out of it. Mike was trying to figure out what that piece of wood was supposed to be. Then it clicked. This was the shive that Gannon tried to stab him with. When he first notice the shive the blade was at least three inches long, now it appeared to be less than one and a quarter inches long.

"What in the hell was going on?" thought Mike. This shouldn't be possible. Answers to some of his questions only brought more questions to be answered. They unfortunately will have to wait for later. Mike needed to get these people out of here and back to the ship for medical treatment. And Mike definitely needed time to alone to think about what he learned.