"C'mon, one more! You can do it!"

Arria growled at Osip's all too cheerful face hovering above him, exhaled slowly and bent his knees until the weights rested once more on their supports. He fumbled blindly for a small towel from the floor beside him, grabbed it and wiped away a large drop of sweat that'd been tickling its way towards his eyes. His leg muscles were trembling faintly.

"I still can't begin to understand how the hell I've let you talk me into this," he grumbled as he rolled to his side and extricated himself from the torture instrument some twisted individual had ingeniously labeled 'leg press'. Osip chuckled and sat down on the floor beside him.

"You're the voice of reason, and you couldn't deny that it'd do you good," the tall pilot said sensibly, eyes glinting with the usual hint of mischief. "Besides, you enjoy it."

Arria shot him an exasperated glance and rubbed his neck above a drenched top. That was indeed true by now, after he'd forced himself to follow the regime of at least three early morning workout sessions a week for some time, but he'd be damned before he admitted as much.

Osip handed him a bottle of water which the blond gratefully raised to his lips.

"Bah, you just decided all of a sudden that I wasn't good enough any more," he snorted.

Osip looked deep into Arria's eyes, smile nearly vanishing, and shook his head.

"You, not enough?" he said softly. "Don't even try that. I'm just concerned for you, Mr. Serious. You need something to get your mind completely away from the duties every now and then, and we can't be tumbling in bed all the time."

He grinned a little and raised a large dark hand to caress Arria's thigh gently. "And it's done you good. You're much more laid back nowadays."

"And you're much more laid," Arria retorted and swatted him lazily with the towel. "Damn you, Osip, I'm almost convinced that you did it just because you thought a fitter Arria might be a hornier Arria, hmm?"

"Well, you can't deny it's worked!" Osip chided as he ducked the towel. "Not that I'd have had any reason too complain before... Peace, lover, peace!"

"What? The mighty Head Pilot of our base is surrendering without a fight?" Arria stood up, only to drop on his knees to straddle Osip's legs. "Where's your stamina, man?"

"I'll show you," Osip promised and kissed the sweaty blond voraciously. "Right here, if you like – uh, hello, guys!"

Arria jumped up so quickly that he nearly knocked Osip down in his haste. Osip scrambled on his feet as well, though much more slowly, and threw an amused glance at his usually undemonstrative partner before winking to the four big men standing at the door. Arria was drying his hair with the towel, avoiding the knowing smiles behind his back.

"Sorry to disturb, but I thought this'd be the time when I'd find you here." Base Commander Orwel Dahomey, currently the only fully dressed person in the gym, put his hands on hips and shook his head. "You don't look awfully presentable, though. I don't think Maurice would like to view you quite like that."

"Maurice?" Arria turned around, his blush already beginning to fade. "He's contacted? What is it?"

"Yeah, he wanted to talk to us. Asked to have a talk as soon as you have time. I didn't ask for details, he said it's rather urgent but not a matter of life and death." Orwel stepped aside to give way as Fonzo approached the equipment next to him and casually flicked the load up quite a few notches.

"We'll just shower and get dressed," Osip said. "Then we're ready to shine again. Command Center, twenty minutes?"

"Suits me fine," his brother nodded. "I think I'll get going now. There'll soon be enough testosterone in the air to choke on, once these muscle men get themselves pumped up..."

Corinn and Vanya laughed, while Fonzo was content to smile at the friendly jibe.

"Yeah, Orwel, we know you prefer to torture yourself in solitude," Vanya said. "We've seen you, you know, when you think nobody's around..."

"What, don't you have enough to ogle in each other?" Orwel threw back and shook his head. "Duties calling... see you soon, Commanders."

"Sure thing." Osip picked up the water bottle and headed to the showers. "C'mon, Arria, we'd better get lost now and leave the hunks at it!"

"Watch your tongue, Commanders," Fonzo grunted jovially, "think about my poor eyes, just in case they decide to do just that..."

Arria shook a stern finger at Vanya and Corinn who were waggling their eyebrows at each other, before closing the changing room door behind him.

When they entered the Command Center, freshly showered and uniformed, Orwel had already set up the connection. After an evaluating glance at his fellow commanders he nodded and touched a contact. The screen lit up and they saw the stylish figure of Maurice Radysson behind a polished desk.

"I'm glad you could see me so soon, Commanders," he greeted with a smile. Arria took in the relaxed expression and easy posture and sighed in relief. At least the reason for the call, whatever it was, could be nothing too bad.

"Wouldn't dream of keeping you waiting any longer than absolutely necessary, Maurice!" Osip said. "What's up?"

"There's one of my transports coming your way," Maurice stated and glanced at the time. "It should be there in about three hours from now. It's bringing two people. One of them is from Ashanti, a dark guy called Juri Lombard. I checked his identifications and they're good. The other one is a T-clone."

"A T-clone?" all three Commanders blurted at the same time. Maurice nodded.

"Yes, a T-clone. And there's something badly wrong with him."

Orwel's hand was already on his comm, he stood up and stepped a little aside. Arria and Osip didn't need to listen, they knew well enough whom he was contacting.

"What do you know?" Arria inquired.

"They've arrived early this morning on the liner from TerraFour. Lombard was there on business, saw the clone and recognized him for what he was. He showed me a live picture," Maurice added a little ruefully, "and no, there's no doubt of it. He's a T all right, going by the name of Salvador Marquina. Lombard wasn't eager to give many details, but the long and short of it is that the clone got in trouble and Lombard managed to get them both permission to leave. They're now here, and the first thing they did was to contact me. I ran a quick check, sent a van to the spaceport to pick them up, and they're on their way as we speak."

"Right!" Osip nodded. "Thank you, once again, Maurice. You're invaluable."

"Hardly," the dark man chuckled. "I wish I could tell you more, but I judged it best to send them over as soon as possible. And I trust you'll find out all there is to know, once they get there."

The commander trio didn't need to wait long before a flurry of voices reached their ears, and a few moments later the room was full of eagerly babbling beauties followed by the more placid Rori.

"What's this about a new T-clone?" André cried enthusiastically. "Someone coming from TerraFour?"

"That's right," Arria confirmed and proceeded to give a quick summary of what Maurice had told them.

Terry, Adrien and André looked curiously at each other. Everyone had by now got used to the initially rather disturbing feeling that inevitably hung around them whenever they were in the same place, to the invisible flood of communication passing between them with the speed of light. The commanders waited patiently, knowing they wouldn't need to wait long for an explanation of whatever had taken place in the surrounding airspace.

"I'll go and run a check," Terry nodded and disappeared, as swiftly as he had come.

"He'll see if he can identify who it is," Adrien stated. "He's got access to the databases anyway, and there's at least information on who's still alive and who isn't."

"Maurice said there's something wrong with him," André said with a thoughtful frown. "I wonder if we could try to contact the transport and find out more?"

"It'll only be about three hours," Orwel pointed out. "Then you'll have every chance of finding out all you want to know. Let's not overreact."

"We'd better go and see that there's a place for him," Rori suggested. "If he's unwell, he'll probably need a solitary room to start with. I'll go check our stock of medication, and talk to Edmé as well, just in case he's been injured or something."

"Good idea!" André jumped on his feet. "And we might go to see what Terry finds out."

"Don't go drooling over his shoulder," Arria warned. "He might not be able to dig up all the information at the snap of his fingers, after all."

"This is a fascinating development, no mistake about that," Orwel sighed. "Another stray to return to the Base... How about getting some work done now, and then going for lunch? I'd say we have just enough time to get today's things sorted out before they are here."

"Good idea," Osip nodded. "Especially the bit about lunch."

He ignored Arria's long-suffering snort.

When they were informed that the transport was only about twenty minutes away, the commanders found themselves clustered with the three adult T's and Rori just outside the T-clone building that'd been turned into medical center. Terry was looking displeased and glaring at his datapad.

"It doesn't make sense," he repeated once more for good measure. "It's got to be either 030, 033 or possibly 035, they're the only ones that are still unaccounted for. But it still does not make any sense."

"Why not?" Rori insisted through the thick fog of disbelief that he could feel hovering around the disgruntled clone.

"Because the latest missions they've been primed for are listed there as well," Terry explained. "And there is no Salvador Marquina among them. Nothing even remotely like that name, and nothing on TerraFour or anywhere close to it."

"That doesn't make sense," Adrien agreed. "It's not possible. They must've omitted this mission from the records, for some strange reason."

"Why would they do anything so stupid?" Terry retorted. "I can't see any reason. Of course they'd need to know exactly where he's been sent and to do what. They'd need the mission data to make sure they've wiped everything once it's over."

"André?" Rori asked softly and touched his partner's shoulder. "You all right?"

André was standing like a statue, luxurious hair cascading over his shoulder and nearly hiding his face. He straightened a little, eyes half closed, then shook his head slightly.

"I'm all right, but he definitely isn't." He gnawed on his lower lip in thought. "I tried to reach him, but he's almost completely closed. Couldn't get anything out of him. He's a real mess."

The others perked up.

"Nothing?" Adrien repeated. "I could try, too."

"Don't," André said. "I'm afraid I just confused him more, even though I was very gentle. He was shocked to feel me trying to reach him."

Osip took a deep breath. The abilities of the golden-haired miracles never ceased to amaze and spook him at the same time... He realized that he'd thought that a little too loud when Terry shot him a wryly amused glance, and he grinned apologetically.

"Nothing spooky about it," the clone mumbled. "It's just how we've been made."

Terry and André kept up a half-hearted debate, arguing about the meaning of the missing data, while Adrien listened to them in apparent wonder. Of course he could follow even the soundless communication, and especially that seemed to baffle him. However, the discussion came to an immediate halt when he gate opened and a deep lilac-colored van appeared. Osip waved a hand, it turned towards them and then stopped a few meters away. The door opened to reveal a man dressed in a uniform that matched the color of the transport.

"Greetings from town, gentlemen!" he said with a quick salute. "Your guests are here now."

"Thank you for bringing them so swiftly," Arria replied. "How was the journey?"

"I have to admit I was speeding," the driver said. "The blond one is definitely ill... ah, yes, come on, Mr. Lombard, we're here!"

Juri stepped out of the car and looked curiously at the assembly of people who'd obviously gathered there to welcome them. The first one to draw his attention was an impressive, imperturbable blond standing between two very tall, smoothly athletic dark men who obviously were closely related to each other. Wow, his brain whispered at the collective sight, and then that train of thought was promptly derailed when his gaze fell on three blond creatures and his knees nearly buckled underneath him.

Salvador... but no, even though the features were similar enough, these were three different individuals, with slightly different build. Besides, the real Salvador was still inside the car standing behind him, Juri reminded himself. And in need of help. Which was why he was right now here, on Jainah, facing the trio of T-clones. Okay, get a grip now, gape later.

Juri hesitated for a moment, unsure of what degree of formality would be required, but before he had time to open his mouth, the uniformed blond man beat him to it.

"Welcome to the Plains Base. You must be Juri Lombard." The tone was direct and distinctly friendly, the words spoken by the richest, most deliciously bone-melting voice that'd ever caressed Juri's ears. "I'm Commander Arria Hamidha, and these are my –"

"Sidekicks," said the taller of the two and winked at the blond who raised an eyebrow. "I'm Pilot Commander Osip Dahomey, pleased to meet you."

"Base Commander Orwel Dahomey," added the other and smiled. "You're very welcome, Mr. Lombard."

"And I guess the person you arrived here with looks deceptively like us, right?" The T-clone with nearly waist-length hair joined eagerly in. "I'm André Lemotte, and I'm awfully sorry to be this abrupt but we'd like to get him inside as soon as possible. I can feel that he's really ill."

"Uh – you're absolutely right there," Juri nodded. "And please, just call me Juri, if that's all right with you. I'll go see if I could rouse Sal."

"We'd better stay outside," another clone warned his companions. "Just go right ahead. How's he?"

"Having a headache, but that's nothing new," Juri said. "It's just been getting worse, though, and unfortunately we ran out of those painkillers of his a little before landing here."

"Have you given him anything else?" All T-clones looked alarmed.

"Once, one of my own," Juri confessed. "But I soon realized it wasn't a good idea. Didn't seem to help him at all, and for a while I was fearing that he'd go catatonic."

He heard a chorus of relieved sighs behind him as he stepped back into the van. Salvador was huddled in his seat, chalky pale under a sheen of sweat, and hardly reacted when Juri put a gentle hand on his arm.

"Do you think you could walk, sweetheart?" he murmured. "You'll feel better soon, I promise. We're here now, you'll get into a nice cool bed to rest..."

It took him a while, but he managed to coax the clone up and to the door. Salvador was like a puppet, and to Juri's relief the others had in the meantime produced a stretcher. Within moments Salvador was being whisked indoors by three worried-looking T-clones and a dark-haired man, and Juri couldn't hold back the deep sigh that escaped him as they disappeared inside.

"The journey must've been tough?" the taller Dahomey asked sympathetically and Juri grimaced a little.

"A journey from hell, to be honest," he admitted. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little out of it myself, but I haven't been sleeping much, either."

"We're all dying to hear your story, but it can wait until you've had time to unwind," the blond commander said. "Besides, Rori and the T's will want to hear it as well, and I guess right now they'll be otherwise occupied for a good while. Orwel, will you have somebody show Juri to his lodgings?"

"No, I'll do it myself. I'll come to the Command Center then." The apparently somewhat younger Dahomey turned to look at Juri. "You can take your time to get some rest first."

"Thank you, Commanders!" The mere thought of some rest was almost enough to make Juri dizzy, and he was nearly knocked off of his feet when the blond commander smiled to him and said just about the most unexpected thing he could think of.

"Call me Arria, please. And for the sake of clarity, these are Osip and Orwel, because 'Commander Dahomey' would give two hits anyway."

An indeterminable time later, Juri blinked as he realized he was staring at a very unfamiliar-looking ceiling. It didn't look like their cabin on the liner, nor was it the ceiling of his suite in Hotel Laguna... shit, how's Salvador?

He nearly jumped up, then relaxed again when his memory returned with full awareness. The Base. They were finally on Jainah, they'd reached the rebel base, Salvador was at last in expert hands, and he himself was taking a post-shower nap before heading to the Command Center. Commander Orwel Dahomey had instructed him to relax a while and then call when he'd feel refreshed enough to have something to eat and to talk about his adventure with Sal.

Juri rolled on around and stretched lazily. A moment spent horizontal had left him feeling a lot better, and for the first time in days his stomach was actually grumbling with hunger.

That much for a moment, Juri thought dryly when the time registered fully: they'd arrived nearly four hours ago. He scrambled on his feet, went to splash some cold water on his face to get his eyes properly open, dug up some suitable clothes and glanced at his reflection in a mirror. Presentable, he decided. Better not let them wait any longer.

He turned to the left from his door, keeping his eyes open for signs and directions. The corridor was empty, steps and laughter echoed from further away but they came from around a corner and Juri couldn't see their source.

As he picked his way to his destination, the words of the blond commander kept ringing in his ears. 'Call me Arria... these are Osip and Orwel'... this sure appears to be an interesting place.