SEASON SEVEN

EPISODE 7: HEARTBREAKER

By: X_C

 SPACE: THE FINAL FRONTIER. THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE WWF TITANPRIZE. IT'S MISSION: TO EXPLORE AND ENTERTAIN NEW SOCIETIES AND NEW CIVILIZATIONS.  TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO WRESTLER HAS GONE BEFORE!

TITANPRIZE/NYTRON CREW:

Captain Vince Russo (aka High Commander)
First Officer, Commander Jeff Jarrett (aka The Chosen One)
Chief Engineer, Commander Stephanie McMahon
Chief of Chiefs, Commander Linda McMahon
Chief of WrestleFleet Security, Commander Kane
Chiefs of Nytron Security, Commanders Hall, and Nash
Chief WrestleFleet Medical Officer, Dr. Taker
Chief Nytron Medical Officer, Dr. V. M. Piro
Diagnostics Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jericho
Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Austin
Transporter Chief, Lieutenant Commander Debra McMichael
Communications Officer, Lieutenant Rock
Counselor Al Snow (assisted by H.E.A.D.)
 

... And many more!

WWF TITANPRIZE-CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM

    "Captain's Log, Stardate-oh screw this!" Vince Russo exploded at the same time his logbook did, the steel shell shattering against the wall in a shower of sparks. "That TRAMP! That SLUT! That BIMBO!"

    Bishoff was a trembling mass of muscles strapped to a chair with industrial tape. Each outburst from the High Commander was like a bullet fired into his chest, making him flinch.

    "She BROKE it!" Glass rained to the carpet in a sparkling mist as Russo swept one of Vinnie Mac's valuable million dollar vases to the floor. Too bad, but the disgraced Captain had more to worry about than antiques right then - much more. "Jericho ain't nothin' but a worthless piece of crap without that emotion chip! I can't re-program his loyalties if he ain't got any! That idiot Kimmie turned him into a fancy calculator!"

    Bishoff's eyes rapidly darted back and forth as Russo paced the room.

    "I gotta do something about Stephanie! She's causin' riots in the Smackdown, she's been cured of her looney tunes - I don't know what the hell is going on! You can't trust those damn McMahons as far as you can throw them...except for Shane. God, like the son I never had Bishoff, like the son I never had...."

    The door chirped at him. Russo stopped mid-tirade.

    "Come."

    "I believe you already know Eric." Russo nodded at his bound and gagged captive. It didn't bother him that his visitor was going to bear witness to Bishoff's humiliation. "Now feast your eyes on this!"

    He spun his modified padd around, the specifications for the ultimate Nytron weapon flashing like a neon sign on the screen. "Whadd'ya think?"

    "A quantum explosive." Benoit said flatly. "A bomb in theory only. It can never be successfully developed or used."

    "Think again, sucker!" Russo was chomping on a cigar, removed from Lt Farooq's private stash by JJ. "I didn't call you in here so you could rain on my parade, Wolfman!"

    Benoit stayed silent.

    "Let's just say that Earth and the rest of the Milky Way will expire in 30 days, Lieutenant!" Russo chuckled. "Thanks to this so-called theoretical device being driven into the heart of the galaxy. You scientists just don't know how to live on the edge, how to believe!"

    "I believe you will never cause the death of billions with this fantasy weapon." Benoit's laugh was so mocking it set Russo's teeth on edge. The scientist with the sub-arctic personality felt blessed that his precious homeworld of Kanata was light years from the blast site. A shame he was not capable of feeling empathy for the sappy little earthlings aboard the ship...."The most you can hope to accomplish is opening a very minor and unstable wormhole-"

    "You're a heck of a techie." Russo ignored Benoit's doubts-he had to. His ego would not allow him to accept even the most remote possibility of failure. "You can put the finishing touches on this little sweetheart here."

    A glimmer of anger flashed in Benoit's eyes. "I will not."

    Russo merely smiled, stabbed his cigar out on Bishoff's bare hand. Both he and the Lieutenant ignored the muffled squeals of pain.

    "Tell me, Benoyt...you tried to assassinate the lovely Mrs. McMahon-Helmlsey once, did you not?"

    "I'm afraid you're mistaken." Benoit replied calmly. "I had no intention of murdering Stephanie. I merely pretended to in order to further a high-stakes Wrestlefleet Intelligence operation."

    "Intelligence operation my ass!" Russo laughed like it was the joke of the year. "But you got brass ones to run that bull past me! You and Shane...you're my kind of people."

    Benoit's jaw clenched instinctively. He was no traitor!

    "Would you say Stephie baby was a threat to my occupation?"

    "You have already eliminated those Aerialian pretty boys, so you needn't fear any noble heroics from that end." Benoit said thoughtfully. "Jericho without passion is useless.....Stephanie is the only one left who may ruin your plans."

    Russo raised an eyebrow. He couldn't know that Benoit cared little if an officer like Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley lived or died. In fact, Benoit cared very little about anything except himself...."A shame she recovered from her psychosis."

    "Indeed."

    "You failed to kill her once." Russo pointed an accusatory finger at Benoit's massive chest.

    "My intentions-"

    "Would you like a second chance?"

    Benoit smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "I'm not Shane. I will not murder a superior officer for you."

    Russo speared his comm badge. "Jarrett? Please come and escort Lt. Chris Benoit to the brig!"

    "Be right there, slapnuts! Sir!"

    Benoit sat like a statue across from Russo, unmoved by the fact all his freedoms would soon be stripped away. He saw no reason to mention Bishoff to anyone either-it wasn't his business if the maniacal High Commander wanted to have a pet.

    Russo kept his back turned as his first officer escorted an annoyingly calm Benoit from the Ready Room. Thirty days! Surely word of the quantum explosive would spread through the ship like a virus, making the Titanprize crew edgy and eager to try something foolish....but they wouldn't. Vincent Kennedy McMahon was now his own personal bitch and didn't even know it!

    Because Russo had a plan, a scheme so evil and treacherous that Satan himself would have wept with envy....

SHUTTLEBAY-4

    "Ensign."

    "Commander."

    Icicles hung in the space between Stephanie and Lita as they each faced the grimy mirror in the ladies room of their spartan shuttlebay-turned-quarters.

    "Too bad we're not friends anymore." Steph was feeling pouty about having to share a bathroom with every wench on the ship. "I have something really juicy to tell you."

    "Too bad."

    "It's about me and Chris." Stephanie persisted, sweeping her glossy chestnut hair into an elegant French braid. Hunter did so like it that way....

    "Jericho?" Lita laughed, though it sounded distracted. She hated the overly chic, glamorous fire-red evening gown that Shane had brought her for that night's....celebration in the Smackdown.  No matter how many credits it was worth, the clingy silk simply wasn't daring or cutting edge enough for her. "His personality has sunk below Ensign Blackman's!"

    Stephanie scowled to cover up the twinge of pain in her chest. Maybe she would never tell her "friend" about almost kissing Chris...upon reflection, it did seem disgusting that she'd almost, almost put her very human mouth against those icky synthetic lips! The more days that passed, the more she was reminded that Jericho was incapable of feeling anything without a stupid sliver of silicon underneath his fingernail!

    He was a good-looking computer whose smart-assed comments and moments of compassion were tripped by some sort of internal trigger - a machine! She closed her eyes tight, the sensation of moisture behind her lids a sign that she still had her heart....

    "I can't believe you're going to the ball with Hunter tonight." Lita cursed herself for not holding it in.

    "You can't believe me?" Stephanie opened her eyes again, wondered what Chris might say about her teeny tiny silver mini-dress. It was like he'd forgotten the word "slut" even existed. "Your boyfriend's body is in the morgue and that doesn't stop you from being Shane O' Mac's trophy trollop."

    "My boyfriend never got me shot." Lita said coldly. Hah! Wouldn't Stephie feel lower than dirt when Matt and Jeff rose from the "dead"!

    "True." Stephanie smiled sweetly. "Jeff was too busy shooting me twice. Oh - when he wasn't using me to play kissing games with, that is. Say....did you ever ask yourself how your little freak got his promotion anyways?"

    I must not slap my commanding officer no matter what, Lita reminded herself. "You know what, Steph? I'm getting a little suspicious of just why you care so darn much about my reaction to Ensign Hardy's death! It's like....well you do have a certain thing for men with long blonde hair!"

    Stephanie's face turned green. Okay, Lita had won that game of chicken. "That's...that's disgusting! Like I would ever have a crush on your little...your little whatever the heck Jeff is! And I like men, not boys! Especially inexperienced boys!"

    "Sure Steph." Lita just smiled knowingly at her. "Now that I think about it, Jeff was acting a lot like Jericho before he died, and we all know exactly how you felt about your Chrissie!"

    "Yeah well Chris is fully functional and there's no chance Jeff-" Stephanie blushed furiously. How dare Lita trick her into thinking about that! "You just shut up! Wasn't helping my brother beat me down with a phaser humiliation enough?"

    Lita just shook her head. God, how she hated her hair pinned up and looking so disgustingly elegant! If she looked too cutsie, she'd have a hard time taking herself seriously! "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have a brother like Shane?"

    Stephanie practically choked. "Lucky? Yeah, lucky like someone with a deadly disease. Good-night Lita."

    Lita kept her gaze on the mirror as the Commander stalked out.

    Taking Jericho's loss of emotion a little rough, are we Stephie?

THE SMACKDOWN

    "Get your filthy, slimy hands off me!"

    "Come on little lady!" Ensign Big Poppa Pump's hand brushed a little too close to the backside of Trish's anatomy, making her shudder with revulsion. "I don't want a simple synthehol when I can get a whole lot of watermelon!"

    "Oh my god!" Trish gasped, almost dropping her tray full of drinks. Why did she have to do all this silly work stuff anyways? Shane never said anything about it being soooo hard! "That is sexual harrassment! I'm reporting you! No - I'll sue you!"

    "Don't sing it, honey!" Last Call Hall slurred. "Bring it!"

    "You're as repetitive as Lieutenant Crock!" Trish snapped. "Hey-Nash! You better not be looking up my skirt!"

    "I dropped my spoon, baby." Nash was laughing. "It happened to fall at your feet!"

    "You idiots got some sort of mental block against respecting ladies?" Ensign Helmsley was glaring daggers into each of their hearts. "Maybe my foot in each of your old lazy asses will remind you how to treat a woman!"

    "Whoa, take it easy Game!" Hall snickered. "We respect the ladies, man! But what's that got to do with Trishy here?"

    Hunter was mad enough that he and every other Wrestlefleet officer aboard the ship had been forced to take part in this horror show, a grand celebration, a typically gaudy Nytron affair to pay tribute to the glory of High Commander Russo. He didn't need to put up with crap from these overrated, no-talent rebels who acted like they owned the place!

    "I'm - I'm fine, Ensign Helmsley." Trish assured him, daintily smoothing out the brief whisper of a skirt that Russo had forced all the help to squeeze into. "I can handle these pigs."

    "Oh you sure can." Pump roared with leering laughter. "I got a whole lot you can handle, blondie!"

    "Keep this in mind." Hunter said, his smile menacing. "Pigs might have their fun, but they always get taken to the slaughter. Let me know if they bug you again."

    "I - I will." Trish nodded, backing away from the table slowly. They just oozed so much sleaze! "Thanks! I guess you're not as bad as everyone thinks..Hunter."

    "I'm not." He laughed. "I'm far worse."

And Jericho calls me a slut? Stephanie thought scornfully, watching Trish watch her husband cross the room with long, arrogant strides. She knew the look in the blonde Kanatian's eyes well - predatory, manipulative, and downright wicked!

    Well you already poisoned me, Trish dear, she thought coldly. Why not try and steal my property too? You think you can have whatever you want just cause you're so damn beautiful men would die just to touch you?

    There was one thing Trish was never going to get, Stephanie would make sure of that! "Lt Commander Jericho?" Formality was the only way to deal with the stupid 'bot anymore. She watched with angry eyes as Hunter just blew past her, headed straight to a table full of Degenerates. There were some nights where she would honestly care less if he did crawl into bed with every skank in the universe!

    "Commander McMahon-Helmsley."

    "Care to dance?"

    "Dance?" Jericho frowned, slowly sipped a synthehol. It seemed the "human" thing to do.

    "Uh yeah, Chrissie." Stephanie said impatiently. "Sort of like Eddie and Chyna are doing, but not quite so...so - don't put your hands there, okay?"

    "Putting my hands there is equal to insubordination, Commander." Chris furrowed his brow. "Why would I show such blatant disrespect to my superior officer?"

    Stephanie counted backwards from ten. She hated this Jericho!

    "Are you ordering me to dance with you?" the Y2J Unit asked, appearing mildly confused.

    "Yes!" she hissed. "Now, dammit!"

    Jericho was as obedient as a puppy dog, taking her hand in such a gentlemanly manner that it would have turned Ensign Angle's stomach. For a gentle touch, it was so damn cold...

    Those amazing blue eyes no longer gave off that radiant supernova light they used too - even the way they widened with shock as she moved her slender body so close to his there was no room to breathe between them was feigned - a mere imitation of surprise.

    "Commander - this style of dancing is highly unorthodox-"

    "Shut up!" Stephanie whispered in his ear. "Russo doesn't want you to have another emotion chip. He turned down my request for lab time. I can't build one now."

    Jericho was rapidly processing the sudden change in temperature against his skin, the way Stephanie's oh so warm lips murmured in such close proximity to his throat caused a minor heat wave...his positronic net struggled to adjust, to make the bizarre electrical tingling in his flesh just stop....

    "An emotion chip is not necessary." he asssured her. "All other systems are functioning at 100% efficiency-"

    "You need your passion, Chris." The void inside disappeared in a rush of adrenaline, the colored lights swirling together as the room spun in a whirlwind of vertigo. Jericho could've sworn he'd felt her soft, sweet mouth brush that little spot just behind his ear...."To save the ship."

    No! His chip had been fried. Maybe other systems had been thrown into chaos as well, explaining the major fluxes in body temperature, balance, optics-

    "Passion is an illogical choice for a weapon." the Y2J Unit commented in that dreadful monotone. "The Nytron cannot be defeated through overzealous emotion and-"

    "Chris-" The 'bot talk should've angered her, but it just created a vacuum inside her heart. Was this what Jericho felt like? How terrible for him...."I've been looking through Matt's research and the original plans from Irvine Inc. and I think...I think I can make you feel again, if you want. Chris?" She was so careful to talk lightly, her face hidden by a curtain of his blonde hair so that Russo's lackey couldn't read her lips. Jericho's fingers seemed to dig into her back with every word she whispered....

    "Chris?"

    "Ensign Matt Hardy's research was inherently flawed." Jericho's lips curled with disapproval. "He was unable to repair several glitches-"

    "Matt found some intriguing things." she remarked softly, searching his glittering blue eyes for a reaction. Of course they only glittered because of the way the strobe lights reflected off the specially enhanced glass...

    "Ensign Hardy's research methods were extremely unprofessional." Jericho said flatly. "Any results are therefore suspect and non-scientific."

    "It's not nice to speak ill of the dead, Chrissie." Stephanie scolded him. "I found Matt's work very helpful. I could make you feel anything you wanted, take away things you didn't like feeling before. Of course, this would all be on the sly, mind you, but if it's worth the risk to you-"

    It didn't seem proper that Commander McMahon-Helmsley conduct this conversation just a breath away from his lips! Her body language was offensive to every level of Wrestlefleet protocol!

    "If you stepped back one foot and modulated your voice point seven eight decibels, this exchange would be just as satisfactory."

    "Sure Chris!" Stephanie glared at him. "And have Russo's rats hear me planning to defy his direct order not to build you a chip?" She jerked away, appalled at how mechanical he was. It grossed her out to realize she was practically dirty dancing with a talking tin soldier! Ick! "What? You think I like being close to you, slimebot? You think I'm whispering sweet nothings in your ear to give you some sort of thrill?"

    "I have no idea."

    "Let me clarify!" Stephanie slapped him viciously, mildly surprised when he didn't catch her open hand in mid-air. "Just forget it okay? Sorry I offered to give you your life back, Chrissie! You know, you make one hell of a fantastic zombie!"

    He stood rooted to the spot as she fled the Smackdown, although his legs were tense with the agony of not chasing after Stephanie. There was no logical reason to pursue the argument or to console her. After all, he didn't understand female emotions, especially that one's.....

SICKBAY

    "Damn." Stephanie shivered, the filmy silk jacket that matched her microscopic dress no barrier against the frigid cold of the morgue. She could almost feel her tears morphing into icicles as she leaned against the metal wall.

    Why did she bother humiliating herself? Offering Jericho so much when he wanted absolutely nothing from her! What a fool she was!

    "I'd like to be alone, Ensign Angle."

    "Commander McMahon-Helmsley." Kurt chewed on his lip, eyed the cold storage drawers nervously. "Let me add a fourth I to my list - I don't think so! Dr. Taker-"

    "Oh to hell with the Jolly Dead Giant!" Stephanie glared at the Olympic twit. He was so nauseatingly noble, so charming, and just so masculine, yet so utterly unable to generate a spark of anything inside her. Funny - he made her feel less than a sophisticated, walking, talking computer did! "I outrank Taker by a mile!"

    "Er-I believe you meant to say "heck", Commander." Kurt corrected her piously. "Not H-E-Double Hockey Sticks!"

    "I appreciate your integrity, Ensign." Maybe she'd take the sniveling suck-up approach he seemed to favor. "But I think you can be assured I have nothing to fear from the dead."

    "Well, it's not the dead I'm worried about, sir." he explained with a frown. "It's how deeply Dr. Taker's boot will be imbedded in my as-- butt if the bodies were to become contaminated in any way, shape, or form. He's already threatened to kick me so hard that I'll travel back in time from the sheer force of it!"

    Stephanie stifled a snicker. "The truth is, I really am grateful to have such a big, strong man here with me...I mean, corpses are kind of scary and they make me a little faint - all that decomposition and I know this is crazy, but just the idea that maybe...you know...what if they're not really dead and they - god." She shivered.

    "Uhhhh..." Kurt knew he was in deep sh-trouble for accidentally re-crossing Nurse Saturn's eyes with the optic lazer, but could Taker blame him for leaving Stephanie alone when he was feeling so queasy? It would be far less intelligent to hurl all over the floor and taint the bodies that way! "I suppose a few moments alone with the deceased couldn't hurt. Just...umm....don't mention this to the good doctor please!"

    "Oh no!" Stephanie smiled sweetly. That would be the first thing she did! "Say Kurt Cute.....before you go...ummmm." She batted her eyelashes. "Wouldn't it be like totally freaky to get your innocence stolen right here?"

    "Don't be too long, sir!" Angle was out of there so fast she could have sworn he was Houdinian! And my, my, my - his face was just about as red as those goofy tights he liked to wear during training exercises! Still, she could easily grow bored with such a naive little toy....

    "Alright, now that you guys are dead, I feel comfortable saying this." Stephanie sighed, not quite looking at the Hardy coffins set side by side. "This is like really hard for me, but er....." She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper, just in case someone was listening. "Thanks and stuff. You know, for saving my life all those million zillion times. Well, that's it."

    "No, that's not quite it!" Stephanie angrily kicked Jeff's stasis chamber. Someone on this damn ship had to feel something! "You idiot! You stupid jerk! How can you be so damn selfish? Weren't you even thinking of me when you were plunging towards your death in that cheap-ass Nytron shuttle? Russo is going to kill me - I know he is! And where's my guardian angel? Dead!"

    She kicked his casket again, just for good measure.

    "You think Hunter is any use? Someone has to actually be around you to save your life and we all know my devoted husband fails that requirement! And Jericho - well sweet Chrissie may be programmed to rescue me if necessary but considering he has all the emotion of a damn wind-up toy, I don't have high expectations! So actually Jeffrey - thanks for NOTHING!"

    Her foot was throbbing, but she still let Matt have it too. "And you! You're an idiot just for being related to this idiot! I need you Matt! I need some help with Jericho's emotion chip! What I need most of all is your damn password for getting into the oh so top secret aspects of your research! What is so damn precious about Chris's feelings that you gotta hide em from me? Does he hate me?"

    Wait a minute....something wasn't right here....

    Jeff's hair was still vibrantly rainbow, yet he was dead? Perhaps her knowledge of Aerialian biology was sketchy at best but his locks should have turned that scuzzy washed out dishwater blonde color almost as soon as he drew his last sarcastic breath.

    Yet he and his geeky brother were in airtight containers - they couldn't be alive....

    Stasis! Of course! She kneeled down and tapped at the control pad on Matt's coffin. Manual override was proving to be very difficult.

    "Sis!" She was wrenched so violently away that she stumbled backwards over the casket, striking her head against a metal shelf. Stephanie moaned, feeling sticky moisture in her hair. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"

    "What are you doing to them, Shane?" Stephanie was woozy as she dragged herself to her feet. "I need Matt and Jeff in Engineering! They can only stay two more weeks like that, three at the most!"

    Shane paused. If Lita knew the truth, that he'd stuck her precious love muffins in stasis fields composed of super-charged, rapidly-degrading power cells, he'd be digesting his own teeth for months to come. He still cringed at the memory of the way she'd sprained that sleaze Nash's neck in the Smackdown with a devastating Aerialian Hurricanrana. All he'd done was wink at her....

    "I'll have Pop's ship back in our hot little hands by then, sis." He nervously raked his hands through his hair. There was no way Shane could allow her to free Matt and Jeff. He and Lita would be brutally tortured for their deceit, Russo would use his baby sister for his own perverse games before throwing her out an airlock, and he'd make sure the Hardyz were good and dead the second time around, not that Shane O' cared about that! "Just take it easy Steph-chill out!"

    "Do you really think I'm that much of a fool?" Stephanie's lower lip trembled. Oh she wanted to be furious and angry with her brother, but all she felt was completely broken-hearted by what he'd become.  "The way you're kissing Russo's ass, I know you'll never hand this ship back to Daddy! And you won't ever let Matt and Jeff out of stasis will you?" She was shaking as she backed away from her brother. "You did try to kill them!"

    "Listen to me Steph!" Shane felt his eye starting to burn too. It had to be the frostbitten air in the morgue..."I want you to know that I love you and I wish this didn't have to happen but..."

    Stephanie screamed bloody murder as Shane yanked her away from Matt's coffin kicking and scratching. He hadn't expected her to put up such a fight, like she was some sort of rabid wildcat or possessed by a demon, but she wasn't about to go down quietly....

    "I am so sorry Steph." Shane shoved a hypospray deep into the back of her neck, flooding her spinal cord with a particularly nasty Nytron sedative. "Damn! Oh god, Stephie...."

    There was nothing he could do now. It wasn't his fault, really, that she'd spazzed so much when he was trying to drug her, was it? Shane had accidentally given her the whole needle, a lethal overdose.

    "I promise, Steph, I will get the ship back for the McMahons." He took one last look and left her. At least she'd die around her precious little pals, who were more like brothers to her then he'd ever been....

DECK 10-GARDEN DECK

    "It's alright, Eddie!" Chyna rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to be in the mood every single night you know!"

    "Ey I'm Latino Heat!" Eddie frowned as he stared into the strange Nytron space, at comets and gauzy blue nebulae that made him ache for the stars of home. "And you're the most beautiful woman in the world! How can I go five minutes without kissing you, let alone a whole evening?"

    She laughed. "I'm just going to sneak over there and pick a Houdinian flower okay? Crash accidentally spilled chocolate milk on Lita's bed and wants to make it up to her."

    "Sure Mamacita!" Eddie winked. Well, at least the little blonde ensign didn't have his silly crush on Latino Heat's lady anymore! Not that it wasn't cute of course.....

    Ah well, maybe she would take an extra few minutes and test the theory that absence made the heart grow fonder! Chyna kneeled beside a lush Houdinian plant, admiring the yellow and blue petals that bloomed so brightly amid the emerald green leaves. It was then that she heard urgent whispering.

    She froze. One voice seemed familiar.

    "....didn't know anything about the whole planet man!" It was Chavo. "When Russo recruited, he said only Wrestlefleet Headquarters and the Academy! My family lives there, Billy!"

    "Damn - you've been spending too much freaking time letting Eddie bend your ear!" Kidman sighed with exasperation. "You don't make a statement to the whole federation with some lazy ass bombing of a single building on a single planet!"

    "It ain't right!" Chavo hissed. "A galaxy colonized by billions and you just make it like the those lives never happened? Not cool!"

    "What the heck has gotten into you, Loco?" Kidman demanded suspiciously. "Every other galaxy, all those other planets will join Russo once they see the alternative-to end up like the Milky Way! Think of the power, the credits, the honor we'll have!"

    "Honor?" Chavo spat. "Ain't no honor in murdering that many people. I knew a few people would have to die, but no way man, that ain't even a war. That's a wholesale massacre."

    "You're just scared right Chavo?" Kidman was acting concerned, but the underlying tone of voice was menacing. "I don't need to repeat none of this conversation to Russo right?"

    "I'll do what I have to." Chavo said grimly. "I don't go for being a traitor. The Nytron cause has been good to me!"

    Chyna eased a particularly radiant flower from the rich Houdinian soil. It was such a contrast to her dark spirit.

    She wouldn't tell Latino Heat. She'd give young Chavo one more chance to change his heart.....

SICKBAY

    "Such a pretty pretty girl." Stephanie's hair was being caressed by icy fingers. "The more beautiful something is, the more pleasure I take in destroying it."

    She groaned, but her agony was faded by the potent sedatives that were casting a spell over her. She knew she was dying and that one of hell's own was hovering over her, but yet there was something blissful and dreamy about the whole surreal affair.

    Heaven must be a glacier, she thought drunkenly. Or maybe it was just the chilled steel of the morgue floor.

    But heaven wasn't supposed to have angels like this one-ones with colorless eyes that were gateways to nothingness, skin so clammy and translucent that it made a corpse look flush with good health. She recoiled from the probing touch of the... thing.

    "High Commander Russo can own your father's mind, but he would also love to possess a McMahon's body." Dr. Piro smiled, revealing a mouthful of inhumanly sharp teeth to his hallucinating victim. "Some men are content to steal innocence, but I sense he will be far more happier murdering yours, my dear."

    "No." Stephanie whispered, eyes frantically searching the room for something sharp to cut her wrists, even her own throat if she had to...Gruesome death was the only preferable option to-

    "It will only hurt...forvever Princess."

    It felt like a spider bite-a hot stinging sensation on the back of her hand.

    Helpless, she slid into a void, praying she would never return to the waking world...

THE BRIG

    "I said WAKE HIS ASS UP!" Russo was screaming at Nurse Saturn from outside the gleaming emerald green sheet of electricity that stood between McMahon and his beloved crew of do-gooders. "What part of that didn't you understand, baldy?"

    "You have him heavily sedated!" Nurse Saturn growled back, pushing another hypospray into Vince's doped up bloodstream. To think, he could've been enjoying a nice stiff synthehol and staring across the bar at Terri's luscious form while she giggled at all his jokes instead of doing Russo's loathesome bidding!

    "I'd tell you to look at me when I spoke to you, Nursie, but I have a feeling it's physically impossible!" Russo felt like a kid on Christmas morning, about to open the best gift of all! "Ahhh Vincie! Welcome back."

    McMahon's face was bright red, his salt and pepper hair sprawled in all directions, eyes feverish and nearly glowing. "Screw you Russo."

    "No, no, no - screw you McMahon!" Russo laughed wildly as his nemesis tried to spit at him through the force field. "Remember that fateful day when you had the Big Red Retard cart me off to a Wrestlefleet prison-do ya Vincie?"

    "Happiest damn day of my life." McMahon snarled.

    Russo waited for Saturn to slink off like the two-bit coward he was. "You'll recall that I vowed to come back and make you my New York bitch! Well here I am Vinnie Mac, and guess what time it is?"

    "I'm your bitch?" Vince had his turn to laugh. "You got the Titanprize on some glorified joy ride and you think that's something to brag about? My crew still runs the ship cause your Nytron movement is staffed by jobbers and you blow hot air about how big your grapefruits are? Hah! You're still the second rate hack you always were!"

    "Hack on this old man!" Russo poked his finger at Vince, careful to avoid contact with the electrified shielding. "In twenty-nine earth standard days, the Milky Way and every pathetic little Wrestlefleet citizen in it will cease to exist! Shane O' Mac has adopted me as his new father-oh you'd be proud of the little devil Vincie! He's like a little cannibal, eating his own crew alive, killing 'em when they look at him wrong. And oh what he does to his little sister? Cold man." Russo shivered for effect.

    McMahon sank down on the cold, hard bench, his face draining of color. "No. Not my boy."

    "Oh definitely your boy, Vince!" Russo chuckled. "I don't what the hell you did to him when he was growing up, but it's paying off very nicely for me! Heck, he begged me to execute you when I took this little paper airplane over! Didn't like the way you were running the show, I guess." The High Commander shrugged, but the delight was evident in his maniacally dancing eyes.

    "What has he done to Stephanie?" Well, Vince just had to let his son go then. A traitor with his blood? As far as he was concerned, Commander Shane McMahon had never been born into his family! "Tell me dammit!"

    "Ease up old man!" Russo frowned at him. "You'll blow a valve and I'd hate for my favorite toy to get broken! Shane's just been practicing his pistol-whipping techniques on baby sister is all. Actually it's his little wench Lita that's done most of the damage!"

    "Lita?" The room was spinning. Heck, reality was spinning. Vince thought Lita was the closest thing Stephanie had to a girlfriend on this ship. The feisty Aerialian had even risked her own life during a dangerous operation to rescue his daughter from a miserable, short life of being paralyzed from the neck down. A relationship with Shane didn't make any sense.

    "Ahhh Stephanie." Russo was smiling now, like the cat who ate the canary. "You've got such a sweet, sweet little angel McMahon. So soft and lovely and so...so tempting you know?"

    "You haven't touched her!" It wasn't a question.

    "Kimmie is such a bimbo." Russo complained. "Stephanie is so different, so innocent. She's got lips like a flower, Vinnie and the way her hair smells-my lord, it's more beautiful than roses. And the way she cries her gorgeous little eyes out when you put your hand on her knee or pin her to your desk-it gets me right here."

    Russo mocked having a dagger thrust into his monstrous heart.

    "Shut up!" Vince lunged at the force field, thrown back in a violent shower of sparks. He didn't even feel it. "YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!"

    "I'm just yanking you Vincie!" Russo was doubled over with laughter. "Maybe. No time to act out bedtime stories with your baby when ol' Vamp is testing out some new Nytron medical devices on the little darling."

    McMahon was filled with a horror that had never touched him before. Dr. Piro....the ghoul had been stripped of his medical credentials in every damn galaxy that existed for the ungodly human experiments he'd carried out. Even those who survived them usually committed suicide rather than cope with the nightmares that were destined to violate them....

    "Please." Vince didn't care about his own pride anymore. "I'll give you anything. Don't let that demon ruin her..."

    "Give?" Russo was trembling with rage now. His mood swings startled the captive. "You won't give me a damn thing! I will take what I want from you!"

    "Fine, fine."

    Glorious! Vince was on the verge of tears and he hadn't even stuck the last knife in!

    "The Titanprize will arrive at the heart of the Milky Way galaxy in exactly twenty-nine days, three hours, and fifty-four minutes." Russo sounded like Lt Commander Jericho, spitting out detailed calculations. However, the Y2J Unit rarely sounded this arrogant! "A quantum explosive will be placed at the event horizon of the supermassive black hole there, detonating after the Titanprize has warped out of your charming little solar system."

    "You can't do that!" Vince cried. "Quantum explosives don't work, and even if your second rate wanna be ass created one that did, that is billions of people! Innocent people, children!"

    "Oh be still my bleeding heart!" Russo taunted him. "As that slapnutz first officer of mine might say-don't ever piss me off Vinnie Mac!"

    Vince was sweating-he was starting to feel claustrophobic in the cramped cell. There was nothing but helplessness here, no way to save his ship, his crew, the billions of federation citizens who looked to him as their protector.

    He'd let them all down; his hands would be soaked in their blood, never to be clean again.

    "My crew won't let you do this!"

    "They will, because you'll order them too!" Russo said smugly. "Each and every one of them will stand down and watch as the Milky Way disappears into thin air! They will say nothing, do nothing as billions of living breathing humans beings are blown into interstellar cosmic dust!"

    "Never!"

    "Never say never, Vinnie Mac." Russo was beaming with pride as he thrust a tiny sliver of metal in Vince's face. Upon closer examination, the disgraced Captain could see it was a sophisticated chip with a miniature capsule attached to it. It appeared to have a self-contained energy source that he couldn't discern without a tri-croder.

    "What the hell is that?"

    "A little medical device I asked Dr. Piro to develop." Russo said casually. "Funny thing is we have a hard time keeping some Nytron loyal and in line, so I wanted insurance. Insurance that can't be beat."

    "I don't give a damn what you do to your own people, Russo." Vince scowled in frustration.

    "You'd be surprised at how much you care." his mortal enemy assured him. "See, this little gem gets clipped to the patient's heart and will then time its energy pulses to match heartbeat."

    "Cyberbiology." Vince's mouth went dry. That branch of science had been banned because of the potential lethal applications that could be developed by less than ethical scientists.

    "Little hobby of Vamp's." Russo shrugged. "Anyways, once this attached to a person's heart, it can never be removed. It's programmed to fire a deadly charge if it's tampered with. Also, Dr. Piro has possession of the sole trigger, so he can kill the carrier of this device at any time."

    "Clever."

    "No Vincie, it's brilliant!" Russo corrected him. "Cause see, if someone destroys or harms the trigger in any way, the patient still dies from a massive heart attack caused by a painful chemical charge. There's no way to beat the system!"

    Vince could feel his own chest tighten, hot daggers of pain slicing through his brain as the nightmare came to life for him. "Oh god. Stephanie."

    Russo smiled like a teacher whose star pupil had just found the secret of life. Or better yet, death. "You'll make them listen Vince, or little Stephie's heart gets broken. You don't want to break your baby's heart, do you?"

    "You're sick." McMahon whispered, as if it were a revelation. Maybe it was. He'd known Russo was a cheap shot artist, morally repugnant slime, even a little evil. But never this, not in his wildest dreams...."It's experimental. My daughter could die anyway."

    "You're always focusing on the negative, Vincie!" Russo complained. "Look on the bright side! She doesn't know she's always a whisper away from death and I'd hate for her to be burdened by that kind of news! And the crew-well this kind of thing would just crush morale! It'll be our little secret, 'kay Big Mac?"

    His young, beautiful daughter...Vince McMahon did not cry often, he wept now. She was just starting out, yet so close to the cold embrace of death. It wasn't fair; it should've been him.

    Without saying a word, Russo had given him the impossible choice.

    An entire galaxy containing billions of lives or the life of his daughter?