"Lieutenant Kizer to see you, sir." Said the male military secretary.

Duke Dermail was sitting behind his desk reviewing a file intently.

"Yes, Yes. Send her in." he replied impatiently.

Katja walked in straight and tall. When she came to stop in front of his desk, she snapped to and saluted.

Duke Dermail didn't pay much attention but motioned her to sit down and waited for a second while he finished reading a line on the report. When he was finished he looked up at Katja.

"First of all, Lieutenant Kizer I would like to congratulate you on your successful escape from the Lunar Base." He began.

"Now this next assignment is very sensitive. And I expect you'll handle it very well." He paused again as he pulled a piece of paper out from underneath the file, which she recognized as her own.

"Your new assignment is to guard Trez Kushrenada. And to make sure that he is neither assassinated or escapes."

Katja's eyes grew as wide as saucers.

"You've got to be kidding, sir!" she exclaimed.

Duke Dermail glared at her for speaking without permission. Katja didn't seem to notice, but promptly asked permission to speak freely.

"Go ahead, I want to hear your thoughts," he answered.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm supposed to baby-sit, Trez Kushrenada? I joined Oz to fight and use my knowledge of tactics, not to baby sit a grown man!" she exclaimed with contempt.

"This is only temporary, Lieutenant, you will be reassigned as..."

"As soon as he is assassinated I'll be assigned to grave detail then back to doing something worthless!" Interrupted Katja, furious with the assignment and the way Duke Dermail was leading Oz.

"Ever since Zechs Marquis became a traitor, you divided up his superior division and scattered them to the wind, most of whom have been killed because of the incompetence of the soldiers fighting along-side them. I've been lucky because you've seen it in all your great wisdom to send me anywhere there isn't a need for my services…" Shouted Katja.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!" Shouted Duke Dermail, who had jumped out of his chair to tower over Katja, who was still sitting down.

Katja froze and listened to what he had to say.

"YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN WHERE YOU GO, OR WHAT YOU ARE TO DO THERE. YOU ARE A SOLDIER AND YOU WILL FOLLOW ORDERS, IF NOT YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH ACCORDINGLY!" He shouted, paused and took his seat. Then picked up a gold letter opener, and absently fiddled with it.

"You've seen what happens to soldiers who don't follow orders or talk back to their superiors." He said, still absorbed with his letter opener, then paused.

"They are flogged for the first offence then shot for the second. You've just more than adequately filled the requirements for punishment. But I'm going to overlook that, considering it wasn't to long ago when your superiors turned against you. But one more outburst and trust me you will receive your punishment in full." He warned, sternly.

Katja rose and held her hand out for the paper. The stoic mask of an obedient soldier covered her rage as she unwillingly accepted the assignment.

Duke Dermail looked up at her with her hand out-stretched.

"Are you saying you accept?" asked Duke Dermail mockingly.

"Yes, sir. I accept the babysitting job, sir." Responded Katja short and seriously.

He handed her the paper.

"Dismissed." He snapped.

Katja saluted, turned on her heel and walked to the door.

"Oh! And Lieutenant!" called Duke Dermail.

Katja paused as she reached for the doorknob and turned to face him again.

"I hope, for your sake, no harm comes to him." He said mockingly.

Katja's eyes narrowed in disgust. Then she turned to the door and left.

"You've been issued a vehicle. You are to drive and or accompany Mr. Kushrenada where ever he goes," said an older soldier as they both walked up to the mansion.

Katja followed the older man into the main hallway.

"Yadda, yadda, yadda. Why don't you leave me the keys and I'll figure it out with Trez," snapped Katja.

The man turned around and sneered at her disobedience, and held the keys dangling just over her head.

Katja returned the glare and held her hand out at approximately her waist.

"Humph. Just because you outrank me doesn't mean that you don't show me respect," he snapped, dropped the keys into her hand, and walked away.

"Master Trez is in the drawing room. Find it yourself," he called as he walked towards the door.

Katja waited until the doors closed behind him, then turned and went to look for Trez.

She walked down the main hall.

The clumping of her boots, on the polished wood floor was the only sound, in what seemed like a deserted house.

The eloquently wood-paneled walls were adorned with enormous portraits of the previous owner's family. The gorgeous antiques that fashionably lined the walls, reminded her of her home before the war.

At the end of the hall, approximately ten feet away, were a pair of sliding doors, which were cracked slightly to allow a pillar of light to shine through; the only sign of life.

Katja froze at the sight of the doors.

This place is too familiar, she thought as she began to panic.

"Trez?" she called from where she was standing.

One of the doors slid open and the figure of a man filled the gap.

"Come in, Lieutenant Kizer. I've been expecting you," Said Trez in his usual calm, cool manner.

Still a little taken back by the familiarity of the hall, Katja slowly walked through the doors.

The room had the same paneling as the hallway. One giant window took up one wall. The window showed that night had fallen.

In front of the window was a large wooden desk with small stacks of papers neatly situated upon it along with a tray of tea.

The rest of the room was lavishly accommodated with French couches, and antique chairs. A red and gold Turkish rug, surrounded by most of the chairs, was in the center of the room.

"Why don't you take a seat," Offered Trez once she was in the room.

Katja accepted the offer and sat down gently in an antique pulpit's chair, which was upholstered in fine red embroidered cloth.

Trez walked around where she was sitting and took a seat across the rug on another pulpit's chair.

"Does this place look familiar?" he asked.

Katja didn't reply but remained silent and kept a stoic look upon her face. She looked around the room, amazed at how much it did remind her of her beloved home in Aurora.

"I've heard that you once lived in a home just like this," He continued, ignoring the fact that she obviously wasn't in the mood to talk.

"In fact I remember visiting your home once, when you were still very young."

Katja's head snapped forward to face him. The stone look gone, replaced by one of confusion and interest.

Satisfied with her attention, he continued.

"Yes, I do believe you adjourned that meeting for your father," He paused, rose and walked to a tray of tea that was on his desk and began to serve two cups.

"High ranking members of the Alliance were meeting that night. And we were talking about what to do if a war ever broke out," He smiled as he turned with two teacups, balancing nicely on saucers, in his hands, and brought one to her. She took it and held it in her lap like a refined lady, but didn't drink of it.

He walked back to his chair and continued. "You were dressed in a white flannel nightgown and told your father that you weren't feeling well. With that he adjourned the meeting and we filed out of the room. That was the last I saw of your father."

There was a long pause between them. While Trez enjoyed his cup of tea, Katja just held it in her lap; it began to shake along with her hands.

Not being able to stand the silence or being in the same room as him anymore, Katja rose quickly and placed her teacup on an end table without spilling a drop.

"Mr. Trez, I'm here to protect you, not to chat about my past. Now if you please, I'm going to find a bedroom and am turning in for the night."

Katja turned and walked out the door. Trez didn't say a word just let her go.

Katja had found a room on the second floor, dropped her bag near the bed and fell upon it.

Although physically comfortable, her mind raced through the happenings of that night, when she was rushed to the hospital. She tried to remember seeing Trez in the room with all of the other diplomats, but it never came.

So she sat up and walked towards the adjacent bathroom. She took off her clothes and turned on the water. As she removed her pants she stopped and looked at the nauseating black and blue bruises on her shins, and remembered the accident on the L3 colony. And Duo, at her bedside, holding her hand. She smiled at the thought of him. Then continued to undress.

The feeling of having the dust of the circus removed from her hair, and her body, revived her. She put on the same sweatpants and t-shirt that she did at the circus, and went to wander around the mansion.

Lets see how much like my old home this place is, thought Katja as she exited her room, her hair still dripping wet and bare footed.

She walked through the entire house. The floor plan was similar to that of her childhood home. Every once and awhile she would pause at the opening of a hallway, and looking down it, saw scenes from her childhood. The memories would fade in and out like passing spirits, and she would move on.

It was very late when she reached her room. On the door was a note.

She jerked it off the door and walked in and went to bed. Strangely she felt quite at ease in this house, and was able to have the best night's sleep since her parent's death, four and a half years ago.

The next morning, Katja was up and standing against the four door, hunter green Chevy Blazer, before eight o'clock.

Trez walked out of the front doors still buttoning up one of his cuffs. He walked directly to the Blazer and got in himself.

"So where are we going?" asked Katja as they neared the end of the long driveway.

"Just around. You choose which direction." He responded from the backseat.

At the end of the driveway Katja turned right. After that she would randomly choose which direction to go in.

About fifteen minutes into the drive, Trez started up a conversation.

"So who do you have to meet in the forest, tonight?" he asked as if it was a common question.

Katja's head snapped up and she looked in the rearview mirror at him.

"What are you talking about?" she asked even though she knew exactly what he was talking about.

Trez unfolded a small piece of paper and read. "Katja meet us at the clearing in the forest nearby. We come bearing gifts."

They had come to a stop sign. Katja whipped it into park and turned in her seat to face him.

Trez sat there like a statue. His hand containing the note held up, offering her to take it.

Katja snatched it from him and put it in her pocket, as she turned back around in her seat. She didn't reply as a cautious measure. Her hand itched to reach for her side arm and pull the trigger. To seek the revenge her primitive mind demanded.

But instead they sat there in silence.

"I know that you hold me in contempt for ordering the murder of your parents. But know that I also want to help you get out of Oz," He said calmly from the backseat.

Katja paused, staring at the staring wheel blankly.

She put the truck back into drive and looked in the rearview mirror at him.

"Keep talking," She ordered sternly, accepting the offer of possible freedom.

About two hours later they had reached the mouth to the driveway.

Their plan set. Tomorrow Katja would go out on a permanent errand in the blazer.

"Tonight's top story. It is believed that an Oz soldier, identified as Lieutenant Katja Kizer, was killed in a five-car pile up, which occurred earlier today.

The vehicle she was driving seemed to have malfunctioned and she was not able to stop in time before running a red light of a busy local intersection.

Upon impact the vehicle she was driving burst into flames. Sadly, the body of the driver was affirmatively identified as Lieutenant Kizer by her dental records.

Friends of Miss Kizer praised her as a perfect soldier, very obedient and determined to protect the people of earth. She will be missed by many."

"Click" the radio was turned off.

Only the hum of the motor and sound of the wind filled the cabin.

She smiled as she drove around a curve, thinking of Trez's words. 'A body stolen from a near by morgue claimed to be you, placed in a white car, that would be rolled into on coming traffic. By the time the body would be claimed, the real you would have driven to the meeting point and begin new, free of Oz forever.'

Thanks Trez, she thought as she exited the city limits.

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