Name: Betha (no surname)

Nicknames: None, so far

Age/Birthdate: early 20's, isn't quite sure. Around 22/24

Marital Status: Single

Children: None

Hair: Dark brown, very slightly wavy, down to the small of her back

Eyes: Very pale gray, almost white

Height: 5'4"

Weight: around 120

Body Description: Curved, but taunt. She's heavier than she appears, due to carrying quite a muscle load. Her face is oval, and slightly "babyish."

Physical Condition: Conditioned from a hard life of primitive self- sustaining work

Family Background: Father: Davin, Mother: Siri Orphaned at age 10, when both of her parents were killed by a tree felled in summer thunderstorm. Survived on her own, educated herself by the records her parents had brought with them. Betha is a humanoid alien.

Her parents were xenoanthropologists/xenoconservationists, with a mission to befriend the local tribe of Native Americans, and convince what of them they could, to relocate to a planet terraformed for their needs, where their culture would be allowed to flower unmolested by Caucasian interference.

Betha discovered Vin lying unconscious, after being thrownn from his horse. Even though he was one of the race her parents had instructed her to avoid, she couldn't leave him to the mercy of predators, so took him in. After a few days, she traveled with him to the town of Four Corners.

Favorite Sayings: Ayesheala!

Temperment: Insatiably curious. A bit conniving, she has had to survive on her own wits and abilities, and this isn't a trait that will disappear any time soon.

Fears: Being killed for being different

Special abilities: Betha is a Caller, and a Motivator. Meaning: She can sense the presence of metals and minerals, and "call" them to the surface. Metals she can sense from a reasonable distance unaided (say, for reference, "earshot" distance) Minerals, she usually has to hold a sample of such, to sense and "call." She is also a Motivator. Meaning: Able to make things move. From the molecular level right up to things as big as she is. She should be able to levitate, but as her parents died before her gifts emerged at puberty, she is untrained in them, and unaware of how to work her gift upon her own person.

She is also able to see auras-- therefore getting a rough read on a person's current emotional state. Her sight, hearing, and sense of smell are keener than a Terran's, but not as keen as an animal. She can differentiate people by their scent, but wouldn't give a bloodhound any competition. Can see in dimmer light than most, but a cat still has her beat.

Best Friend/Confidant: None so far, although Ezra is a good match for her more conniving side, and JD is her equal in merry youthful exuberance.

"Don't dislocate your neck," Vin cautioned lightly, feeling Betha swiveling back and forth behind him, as they entered the dusty little town.

"There's so many people," she whispered, and unconciously pressed herself more closely against his back.

"Yeah... well, this is a pretty small place, but it sure seems swarmin', after the wilds," he agreed. He soon reined Peso in, by the hitching rail fronting a building with "Gem Hotel" written in slightly sunfaded letters across its false front.

"I'll get you set up here, till you decide what you want to do, permanent," he told her, and swung down from the gelding, then, reached up for her.

She dropped down, touching his arm just to be polite. "What is this place?"

"It's the Gem..."

At her blank look, he elaborated. "A hotel. A place where folks passing through can stay."

"For money, I assume." Betha's face twisted in a moue of distast.

Vin rubbed his forehead once more. That discussion had eaten up most of the trip, and had left him feeling as if he were mentally chasing his tail. "Yeah, for money."

"I ain't got none."

"I do. I'll pay fer ye're room and board."

"And that's charity, which, I gathered, y're dead set agin-- so why's it now fine for me to accept it from you?"

"T'ain't charity, for you to let me pay for yer room and board for a while, till y' get your pins under ya!" he burst out.

"Why not?" she asked, her tone one of genuine curious inquiry.

Losing patience rapidly, Vin gritted, "Consider it payment in kind, Betha, fer all y've done fer me over the past few days."

Her faintly fey face drew into an expression of solemn contemplation. "That sounds as if it would be a fair trade, for a short time."

"Thank you..." Vin's eyes rolled heavenward.

"Y're welcome, and thank you, Vin." Her attention distracted by the passing of a wagon, Betha hadn't caught the expression on the tracker's face that would have alerted her to the fact that she wasn't the recipient of his gratitude.

"Come on, then," he grunted, and led her into the Hotel.

The desk clerk raised his eyes and smiled at the pair. "Mister Tanner, welcome! Who do I have the pleasure of --?"

"This is a friend o' mine, Miss Betha. If you've got a good room, she needs one for a couple a' weeks, at least."

"I've got a perfect one on the second floor."

"That'll do... It'll be room and board." Vin put his mark in the register, and shoved the required amount of coins across the counter.

~*~

Betha whistled as she lay Blanket down on the bed. "Amazing!"

"What?" Vin looked around the clean, but spare, room.

"It's just...amazing."

"Feels more confinin' than amazin', to my mind," he confided, already edging towards the door.

She followed. "Where to now?"

He turned and looked at her as if she were a stray that had left a generous handout to follow him-- unexpected, and not quite welcome. "Don't know where you're goin', but I'm goin' to the saloon and let 'em know I'm still on the grassy side."

"Let's go then!"

"Ain't you... tired or somethin'?"

"No! I'm fascinated!"

Vin rolled his eyes heavenward once more. He wasn't sure what he'd done lately to evoke the displeasure of the Creator, but he had a feeling somehow that he had. "Come on, then. Stay close, and stay quiet. I don't feel like shootin' some poor sonuvabitch tonight for mishandlin' ya!"

~*~

They made it to the saloon and Betha studied the batwing doors with such interest that she forgot to watch Vin and smacked into his back when he stopped.

"Sorry," she mumbled, rubbing her mashed nose. "Aysheala! It _stinks_ in here!"

"It don't."

"You like this smell? It's considered pleasant?" She peered around his broad back with a bit of trepitation. More people than she'd seen in her entire life, all put together, were drinking and laughing and doing things she had no names for, inside that smoky building. Rather discordant music came from a large wooden box in the corner, part of it pounded enthusiastically by a rather disoriented-looking man.

"It's normal. Now hush up and go set somewheres."

Her eyes slid to peer at him sideways, a bit scathed by his tone. She slunk along the outside walls, till she found an empty chair, at an empty table, in a dim corner. Having two walls at her back, and the night air coming through a large crack between the wallboards, made her feel a bit more at ease.

He threw her an approving grin and got two glasses of beer.

She couldn't help it. Her nose wriggled like a rabbit's, taking in the sour smell of stale beer and fresh, the sharp tang of liquor, tobacco smoke so rank it made her breath seize up in her throat when a particularly thick whisp would come her way, and the overpowering smell of unwashed humanity-- most of it male.

"Y'okay?" Vin sat down.

"Yeah... I still say it stinks in here... don't these people ever bathe? You weren't dirty, except for the mud, when I found you... "

"It's not p'lite t'talk like that."

"Like what?"

"Bout others."

"Why? It's truth. Why is speaking what's true unacceptable?"

"Cause talkin' that way can get ya killed."

"How come? Speaking the truth is a mortal offense?"

He leaned over and whispered, "White men mostly don't believe in bathin' every day. DON'T! ask why, cause I don't know."

"Why didn't you just tell me that to start with? Far be it from me to criticize someone's born culture, but ayesheala... to not bathe... well, that's one custom I don't think I'll adopt."

"Smart gal. I didn't either."

"This place is called a saloon, right?" she asked, rolling the unfamiliar word over her tounge. Some of his words were almost amusing to enunciate. That was one of them that struck her fancy.

"Yeah, a saloon."

"What's its purpose?"

"Where people come to drink, eat, an' have a good time."

She nodded, and sat in silence for a space, her wide, pale eyes scanning the place as if it were full of a new sort of game animal she hoped to stalk. "Those women, up on that upper level, are those the ladies you were referrin' to earlier?"

"Nope. Those ain't no ladies."

"What's the difference in 'em, then?"

"Those ladies sell themselves t'live."

Her eyebrows drew together. "They're... um..." she searched him for the right word, "slaves?"

He tilted his head, then nodded. "Ya might say that."

The look Betha turned on the laughing prostitutes then wasn't one of intellectual curiousity, but deep empathy. "To live out a life without One to care for, and to be cared for by One... that truly must be hard. Must all women with no One become slaves?

"There's four women I can tell ya right off top o'm'head that ain't. An' they're right here in town."

"Then, it isn't forced upon them?"

"That tends to be a matter o' opinion..."

"Well well well! Look what the cat done dragged in!" Buck's merry voice boomed over the latent noise of the saloon.

"Aw, shit...." Vin sighed. A bit louder, "Hey, Buck."

"Where you been, pard? Chris was bout t'send out the bloodhounds!" The mustached man dropped heavily into one of the vacant chairs. "Then agin, maybe the explanation's right before m' eyes. Hello, beautiful... would y' grant me the favor of gracin' my ears with the sweet sound o' y'r name?"

Betha just blinked at him.

"This is Betha. Betha, this is Buck Wilmington, a friend of mine." /And if I'm lucky, you'll stray off after him, tonight./

"Hello," she said.

Buck smiled and leaned toward her. "Hello, to you," he touched her cheek. "My, you're a purty thing."

Betha drew back from his touch warily, casting a questioning glance at Vin. "Thanks... I guess."

"Let ol' Buck buy you a drink?"

"I... think he already has..." She swung her hand at the untouched glass in front of her, and under the table, gently kicked Vin's shin.

"Yeah, I bought her one."

"Well, then, we can all sit back and enjoy 'em, and get t'know each other!" Buck lounged back in his chair, enjoying himself immensely. Something about the pretty young woman had the unflappable Vin Tanner visibly agitated, and Buck was of a mind to rub a little salt on whatever was making the man break out in an emotional rash.

As if to aid in rasping Vin Tanner's nerves, Ezra ambled over. "My, my, what a lovely young woman."

Betha dipped her head and smiled tentatively at him. He not only smelled clean, but had applied some sort of aromatic scent that she found a welcome change from the general pong of the bar.

"Mister Wilmington, for once you have shown impeccable taste."

"Glad t'see you're finally comin' around t'see th' light, but I'm afraid I come up in second place with her. Vin's the one that brung her."

Ezra's comment to that was to look at Vin and raise an eyebrow.

Vin glared back. "She helped me out, that's all. She needed a ride into town."

Ezra nodded. "Charmed, my dear." he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

"As am I. May I ask y'r name, sir?"

"Standish, ma'am. Ezra Standish. And yours?"

"Betha."

"Betha. What a lovely name for a lovely lady."

For some reason, Betha found herself flushing. She found that a curious reaction. And, stealing a glance at Vin, she saw he looked relieved, and a bit smug. She found that more curious, and a bit suspicious. "Thank you," she murmured, for lack of knowing anything more intelligent to say.

"You're very welcome. Allow me to escort you to a table with better lighting?"

"Why?" She was loathe to leave the security of the corner, and the breath of fresh air, but if he gave her enough reason... it wasn't entirely an exaggeration that more of her race had died from the side effects of curiosity than from old age.

Vin's shoulders started to quiver. "Scuse me," he said and stood up.

Ezra frowned after him, then smiled back at Betha. "Because a beauty of your calibre should be upon a pedestal for the multitudes to admire."

It took a few halfseconds longer for her elucidator to handle the switch in brainwaves, diction and vocabulary. Her chin lifted, as the translation worked its way through her synapses. "I'm not certain I would enjoy being gazed at by multitudes."

His eyes widened in shocked delight. "No?" he said a bit lighter. "What alternatives would you suggest, then?"

"Oh lord," Buck sighed. "You two're makin' my head hurt."

"I'm not sure," she murmured, feeling suddenly deserted by the scant bit of security she had in this strange place, as she watched Vin's back retreat across the room, to the mirrored counter on the far side. "I haven't been here long."

"Ah, new to our fair municipality," he said.

"Yes, very new." She glanced from him to Buck, and under the table, wiped her palms on her thighs. She was apprehensive, but exhilarated. As if she were on a stalk, of something that could be fascinating, or dangerous-- or both.

Buck got up and left, with a touch to his hat, wandering after Vin.

Betha blinked, and looked at Ezra in bewilderment. "Have I been offensive in some way?"

"You were spectacular," he smiled. "Mister Wilmington is unused to having a woman not .... well....that." he pointed over to where Buck and a soiled dove were kissing.

"Oh..." Betha wondered what mating signals the man had given her that she'd missed-- and how she would have reacted, if she hadn't.

"Don't fret," he smiled. "I for one find it a most refreshing change!"

"Thank you. I'm relieved that you do. I'm afraid V... Mr. Tanner, must not have found it so."

"What do you mean?"

"I make him highly uneasy, apparently by my mere proximity."

Ezra's eyes widened a bit. "I find that hard to believe, m'dear'."

"It's true... his heart rate increases, his breathing speeds up and becomes more shallow, his muscles tense, and, well... he reacts as if I'm some threat to his physical well-being."

"You're hardly that."

She smiled, and tilted her head. "No, I'm no real threat to anyone."

"I can see that. Would you care to join me whilst I hold court?"

"I would consider it a privilege," she murmured, not having a clue what he meant, but was amused by observing how the changing shadows turned his eyes from leaf green to the color of the lushest moss.

He rose and held out his hand to her. "Madame."

She rose, Garment obediently falling into a skirt as she stood, rather than the bifurcated form it had been in when she entered. That was one of her observations, that all the females wore an undivided lower garment. Betha laid her hand in Ezra's, hoping she made the right gesture.

He smiled and crooked the elbow of his other arm as he shifted position and lay her hand in it. "Shall we, my dear?"

"Lead on, sir!" she smiled.

They moved to a lushly carpeted table, where Ezra sat her down, pushing her chair in, and sat down in his usual seat. He began to shuffle the cards.

She arranged herself comfortably, her arms draped along the battered arms of the chair, to watch in silence. The movements of his hands with the paper rectangles was captivating to her.

A man came and sat down. "Ya lookin' for a game?"

"Always, my good man.... always."

"Then deal. She in?"

"As you wish," Ezra's hands flicked the cards out. "And no, the lovely lady is... " His gold incisor gleamed, "My good luck."

"Pity. Was hopin' t'win a bit o'luck o'm'own," the man grinned -- or rather leered -- at Betha.

THAT expression-- and the wave of emotions that rolled over her with it-- was unmistakeable. A low, lupine growl rose from her throat, and her hand drifted of its own accord to the knife she wore in a quilled sheath at her waist.

At the bar, Vin's head swung around. He gave her a frown and a shake of the head.

"What's with her?" the man asked, frowning.

Ezra glanced over at Betha with startled quickness, but recovered even quicker. "Obviously, she took exception to your demeaning insinuation, and responded in the same spirit."

Tanner nudged Wilmington, at the bar. Both took their beers and casually crossed the room to join in on the game.

The man lost spectacularly, his attention more on Betha than on the game. Which suited Ezra just fine... He smiled charmingly at his companion. "M'dear, you do indeed seem to cast the aura of benevolent fortune upon those in your favor!"

She smiled at him. "Thank you, kind sir. Within my power, I endeavour to do so."

The man left the table, growling and giving Betha one more once-over. She stared at him, withdrawing her knife just enough for the worn, bright blade to gleam.

He retreated, muttering darkly about crooked card games and crazy bitches.

Ezra decided a distraction was in order."Charming accent you have m'dear. Are you from Texas, as is our intrepid Mr. Tanner?"

"I hail from nowhere near Texas, Mr. Standish-- but as I learned your language from Mr. Tanner, I suspect I adopted his accent and diction along with his vocabulary." Betha smiled demurely at the gambler. "However, from our brief aquaintance, I owe you a debt for continuing my education..."

"I'm gratified to know I've been of assistance to you, Miss Betha, but I'm afraid I cannot follow your line of reasoning."

A soft chuckle. "Mr. Tanner began my education-- you are completing it. Another hour in your presence, sir, and I shall be your equal in elocution." She dimpled, and continued slyly, "Although, I must confess, it is my hope that I shall be seen as more honest and trustworthy than my current mentor..."

"Madame, you cut me to the quick!" A manicured hand pressed over a fine linen shirt front with a graceful fall of wrist ruffle.

"I would be deeply disillusioned, Mr. Standish, to see you fail to be as gallant in bearing the wounds of wit as you are skilled in inflicting them..."

"Far be it from me, that I should disappoint such a worthy opponent," he smiled, green eyes and gold tooth glittering in a vulpine expression of sly amusement. "Or such an apt, alacritous pupil."

"Kinda scary t' see a breedin' pair of 'eggheads meetin' up, ain't it?" Buck snorted gleefully, in an aside to Vin.

"Terrifyin'," he replied, blue eyes narrowing a bit as he watched Betha and Ezra almost as carefully as he monitored the other denizens of the tavern.

Betha nodded toward the deck Ezra toyed with, with absent-minded expertise in his movements. "This game you were engaged in, what is it called?"

"That, m'dear, was the noble game of poker, of the five card stud variety." Ezra surrendered the deck to her extended palm. He watched with hooded eyes as she examined the deck, fanning the cards out onto the table to study them.

Her seemingly casual inspection allowed her to absorb their patterns, colors, logic-- and Ezra's own scent and emotional stasis, faintly vibrating as an overlay, an echo. Satisfied, she scooped them back into a semblance of a tight pack and handed them back. "This game... is it one of chance, or of skill?"

"Ah, therein lies the eternal attraction, for it is an intriguing blend of both. Chance, in what one is dealt-- skill in knowing how to play the hand, and in how to read your opponents."

"And in being able to keep track of which cards have come into play, and which haven't?" she ventured hesitantly.

A dark eyebrow lifted. "Exactly. I suspect, Miss Betha, that you would grasp the fundamentals of the game with amazing rapidity."

"I would be honored if you would deign to teach me," she answered with disarming humility, then rose. "But I've interrupted your amusement, gentlement, long enough. Perhaps later, Mr. Standish?"

"It would be my pleasure, Miss Betha..." He gave her his most charming smile, various profitable possibilities beginning to coalesce somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Good afternoon, then, gentlemen-- and good luck to you all," Betha smiled, and left the Saloon.

"Fascinating waif you rescued, Mr. Tanner," Ezra drawled, as the doors swung shut behind her. He began to smoothly deal.

"Yeah, she's real interestin', that one," he grunted, shrugging his shoulders deeper into his jacket. Betha make his skin creep, the way she changed so quick-- right in front of his eyes, she'd picked up Ezra's high-flown speech as if she'd lived all her life in some big mansion-- when just minutes before, she'd sounded like himself, as if she were Texas bred and born, with never a day inside a schoolhouse.

Vin Tanner lost that hand of cards, distracted by wondering just what sort of unnatural presence he may have unleashed on the populace of Four Corners.

~*~

There still being a bit of daylight left, Betha decided to explore the town, before going back to the hotel and attempting the feat of obtaining the meal Vin told her was hers for the asking. She made her way down the boardwalk slowly, glancing in the windows, and open doors of the shops.

Several people nodded, or wished her a good afternoon. She did the same, but kept walking, not quite sure of herself. It didn't take long to circumnavigate the main street of the small settlement. Before long, she found herself at the end of the main road, looking at a whitewashed building, with colored windows that glowed in the low light. A very tall man, dressed in dark pants, and a white shirt, was sweeping off the steps.

"Good afternoon, Sister!" he called.

Sister? No one had adressed in that way, before. Betha drew closer, taking in his stance and the odd ornament that hung around his neck. "Good afternoon, sir... " She paused at the foot of the stairs. "May I ask-- why do you call me sister?"

He leaned his broom against the doorframe, and stepped down to stand before her. "Because you are my sister, in the sight of God."

As the translation came through, Betha's face lit up with recognition. "Your God is The Creator?"

"That's one of His names."

Her smile brightened, "Sir, if you have the time, would you tell me what you know of the Creator?"

A soft smile touched his lips. "I"ll make time for that, Sister. What I can tell you is what I understand of Him. I wouldn't presume to say I _know_ much of anything about the Almighty. Come in..."

He led her into the building. It was filled with glowing color, from the late sun shining through the tinted glass in the windows, and the light from dozens of candles turned the ever-present floating dust to motes of gold. The air was heavy with the sweetness of warm beeswax, and peace.

"How lovely!" Betha breathed. It was the first place in the town, where she felt at ease.

"Thank you. With all the beauty of creation, I kinda figure it'd be an insult to the Lord, not to make the church beautiful, too."

"Church... A church is a place for worship?"

"For organized worship, yes... One doesn't have to be in a church to commune with God..." Josiah's brows came together. He didn't quite know what to make of her odd blend of educated speech, and utter cultural ignorance. It was plain she was a white woman... but what white woman-- or brown, or black one, for that matter-- had never heard of a church? He sat down on the first pew, and gestured for her to join him.

"That's certainly true, in my experience," she nodded, sitting down on the smooth oak, her skirt falling in folds around the calves of her soft-soled, deerskin boots as she turned to face him.

Josiah nodded. "Exactly what do you wish to know?"

"Everything, I suppose," she answered, with palms up as she shrugged. "I know one of the quickest ways to make enemies, is to break a taboo, or to insult someone's god. I need to know about the belief system here, so I don't give inadvertant offense."

"As opposed to giving advert offense?" Josiah chuckled.

"Well, if you're gonna pick a fight, it's always best to do it on purpose!" she laughed, sounding very much like Vin Tanner.

"Wise woman," he chuckled, and then, in his deep, measured voice, told her of the beliefs of the people of the area, white, brown and red. And, of his own, personal beliefs concerning the Almighty.

She sat silent, listening intently, head to one side. When he finished, she nodded. "Thank you. That will help me greatly."

"To do what, Sister? Fit in with a race not your own... a world not your own?"

"Why do you ask that?" Betha drew back, startled, her heart tripping into an adrenalinized rhythm.

"Several reasons, Sister-- the most obvious one being the fact that the embroidery on the hem of your skirt has shifted pattern three times as we've spoken. And I'm no authority on women's dress, but I do know there's no skirt on this world that can do that." Josiah folded his arms, seemingly completely undisturbed.

"Oh, Garment!" she burst out, lifting the hem and staring at it in dismay. "You should know better than that, when we're not alone!"

Dropping it, she raised her eyes to Josiah and admitted softly, "It's how she amuses herself... She's quite artistic, actually."

Another deep, rich chuckle. "It's alive, then?"

"Yes... Garment is... a ... a... symbiote. You know that term?"

"Yes. Although I've never heard it applied to anything like your skirt. Where are you from, Sister?"

"A cave a few days ride from here. We were... a sort of castaways. My parents died, several years ago. I was alone, until I happened upon Mr. Tanner."

Josiah shook his head. "Before that?"

"A planet circling a star far distant from this one," she admitted, in a near whisper.

Steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, an elbow propped on the back of the pew, Josiah took a while to turn that information over in his mind. "Who else here, knows this?"

"No one, but Vin Tanner."

"I think it would be wise, Sister, if that information stayed between the three of us. Sad to say, humanity often fears what it doesn't understand, and what it fears, it usually tries to destroy..."

Fear flickered in her eyes. "I understand. Thank you."

"You have nothing to fear from me. The Lord may well have hinted at your people's existence, in his Word," he smiled, reassuringly. "What's your name?"

"Betha..."

"I'm Josiah, Betha. Josiah Sanchez. Anything you need, ask."

"Thank you, Mr. Sanchez, I'll remember." She rose. "I've taken enough of your time... " she added, realizing that dark had fallen around the church, as they spoke.

"Do you have somewhere to stay, Miss Betha?"

"I have a room at the Gem Hotel."

"Considering the hour, may I escort you there?"

"I would appreciate it, sir. Thank you."

As they walked through the darkness, Josiah and Betha continued to talk, although this time, he was the questioner. But, she felt so instinctively at ease in his presence, she had no qualms about telling him anything he wanted to know.

By the time he opened the lobby door of the Gem Hotel, Josiah had enough novel information to ponder, to fill his quiet hours for days to come.

~*~

Sleep eluded Betha. Despite Blanket's trilled lullaby, and warm embrace, the bed was too strange for comfort. Used to the darkness of her cavern, the light from the street fires seemed dazzling, coming through the faded gingham curtains.

And the sounds... people everywhere, talking, laughing, walking up and down the hall. Betha folded the thin, oily-smelling pillow around her ears, and that helped a bit. Until the inhabitant of the room next door settled in for the night. His headboard banged against the wall by hers, and then, he began to snore. Loudly, raggedly, and with wet gasps at the end.

Time to give it up. Blanket released her with an apologetic sound, as Betha swung her legs over the side of the bed, then stood and dressed. She made her way out of the hotel, and slipped into the semidarkness of the night.

When she passed a darkened alleyway between two buildings, something closed around her arm and she was yanked off the sidewalk. A strong arm held her captive, and a callused hand clamped over her nose and mouth.

"Well well well, looks like my luck's gonna change after all!" The man's foul breath against her cheek almost made her gag. "And so's yours-- but I don' think fer the better!" He laughed, ramming her back against the rough boards. His bodyweight held her pinned. She was beginning to see black spots, as her oxygen ran out.

But that stunning blow unlocked her shock-paralyzed mind. Betha closed her teeth into the man's hand, so hard she tasted blood.

With an enraged screech, he jerked his hand away, balling it into a fist. The blow never had a chance to land.

Every ounce of energy she had, went directly to the center of her attacker's chest. The release lit up the alley for a splitsecond, and sent the man slamming into the side of the building behind him.

He slid down to land in the dust, eyes staring lifelessly, limply folding into a position acheiveable only by having a spine broken in several places.

Betha followed him to the dirt, her panicked output robbing her of the energy necessary to make any voluntary muscle twitch. Dimly, she heard shouts, running footsteps, but she couldn't so much as lift her head... much less escape.

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