Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Action Pack 12: Second Skin

   Disclaimer: The characters, settings, etc.  contained within this story
all belong to paetrasslave and may not be used in other media without
express permission.  Why anyone would want to, she's not sure.
This story is incredibly sexual in nature with many preferences and
depictions on display that will probably offend many people.  Anyone under
18 or possessed of an easily offended mindset should leave now.  For

everyone else, that's probably all the reason you need to stay.
Codes: ff, inc, gratuitous fanservice

   ------

   Synopsis: Jein uncovers a conspiracy to weaken the Free Territories, as
well as the strangest character she's met yet.
As quickly as she could, Jein crawled out from under Cathallis and got
to her feet.  She'd liked to have been dressed for battle rather than a
date, but the last thing she was going to do was run off.  One thing she
did do was pull a ribbon out of a pocket and quickly pull her hair back

into a ponytail to get it out of the way.

   The dust had dispersed by then, and the creatures who'd exploded through
the wall zeroed in on the museum's only visitors who weren't fleeing with
all haste.  The female huffed and jutted her jaw out contemptuously,
half-inch-long canines jutting from her lower jaw.  Jein had to stare,
since they had a pale green tint to their skin, and she'd never seen the
crystalline spikes before.  But the lop porcine ears, the teeth, the
overwhelming stench.  They were orcs.  A different strain than the ones
she'd met briefly before, but orcs all the same.

   The male ran off into the museum, while his partner spotted Jein running
closer rather than away, and charged her.

   The words of her aunt's bodyguard flowed into her mind as the first
punch came, the crystalline spikes on the orc's knuckles gleaming
menacingly as they grew bigger and bigger as they neared her face.

   A fool will always make the first move, so sure are they of an immediate
victory, he'd said.  Let them.  When they strike, you evade, then strike
back while they're still recovering from a cold dose of reality.  Her aunt
had only consented to those lessons because she'd hoped Jein would only use
them in attacked, but she didn't intend to ignore a problem like this.  She
leaned back and the orc's punch arced through the air without touching her.
Then that hunter's eye that came as part of being a Sword Daughter took
over, and she smashed her elbow into the back of the creature's neck before
kneeing her hard in the stomach.  Her arm and leg went numb for a second.
It was like hitting a brick wall, not at all like the last time she'd
gotten violent with an arc.  But nonetheless, her enemy groaned from the
pair of blows.

   Then the orc turned and lashed out with the spikes sprouting from her
knuckles.  Jein was backpedaling already, but the tips caught her across
the midriff and tore into her shirt.  She twisted away backwards just
before it could touch her breasts.

   "Watch it, lady!" Jein yelled.  "I'm proud of those!"

   The creature leered at her.  "You should be," she replied in a voice
that sounded like she was talking around a mouthful of food.  "The boys'll
have lots of fun with you." Then she rushed at Jein again, snorting with
laughter.

   This wasn't good.  Obviously this one was trying to keep the only
apparent resistance busy while her partner was elsewhere probably grabbing
something important.  She needed to finish the fight quickly, but she was
unarmed, and not entirely sure of what she was up against.

   But every second she wasted weighing her options, these things were
probably getting closer to finding whatever it was they were looking for.
She had to wrap this up quickly and deal with the other one.

   So she balled both fists, planted her feet, and smashed her fist into
the side of the orc's jaw as soon as she was in reach.

   There was a crunch that she hoped wasn't her hand, and the creature
staggered back.  A trickle of blood was oozing over one lip, and she spent
a second trying to reorient her jaw.  Jein was on top of her in that
second, slamming her other fist into the creature's other cheek.  Finally
Jein threw an uppercut that sent the orc staggering.

   Then the orc roared and kicked Jein in the ribs.  She gasped in
surprised as the wind was knocked from her lungs and went flying back, her
skirt flaring up around her waist as she did.

   Jein was tempted to push it back down to hide the dark lace on display,
but as she went falling onto her back, something she'd learned from all
those times her aunt's bodyguard had knocked her down overrode the urge. 
She held out her hands behind her head and curled herself into a ball just
before she hit the floor.  She somersaulted back once, landing in a crouch,
then quickly swung her legs and knocked her opponent's legs out from under
her.

   But Jein didn't get to her feet as fast as she'd meant to.  A stabbing
pain from her ribs where the orc had kicked her gave her pause for a
second. This was a real fight, and her enemy was really trying to kill her.
And if she wasn't careful, there'd be more aches and spilled blood of hers
to show for it.

   The orc screamed in rage as she landed on her back and the crystal
spikes sprouting from her knuckles grew three inches.  She rolled onto her
side and started to get up, but Jein quickly cocked back her legs and then
thrust them at her opponent's stomach in a powerful kick.

   She half-screamed, half-gurgled in pain as she slid across the floor
into a metal statue of Shile about to execute a foe.  As she crashed into
its feet it toppled over, and the axe in its hands landed with finality on
her neck.

   Jein turned and called over one shoulder.  "Cath--"

   "I'm fine!" Cathallis replied.  "Hurry!"

   She did.  Somewhat surprisingly, there was no trail of destruction
through the exhibit to follow.  All the statues and paintings where exactly
where she'd seen them before.  That made Jein uneasy, because it meant her
suspicions were probably right.

   The male creature was standing in the middle of an exhibit full of
ancient pottery and tarnished weapons--about some ancient civilization, no
doubt, but Jein had no time to take it in.  He was dropping something into
a bag as she dashed up--a plate-sized disc of pure black stone--and as he
turned to face her, his expression darkened.

   "How did you get past Rela?" he snarled and tied the bag to his belt. 
Obviously to have his hands free when he attacked, because that was what he
did next, not waiting for Jein's answer.

   Quickly she spun out of the charging brute's way and yanked a scimitar
off the wall.  He swung his fist at her head, aiming his fist right at her
temple.  She waited until the last second and ducked, the spikes shearing
off nothing but a few strands of ivory-white hair.  Then suddenly she
lashed out with her borrowed weapon.

   It was a powerful swing, but he saw it coming and jumped back.  A ribbon
of red sprang up on his shirt, but he only grimaced.  With all her speed
Jein jumped and kicked at his chest.  He grunted but didn't budge.

   Then it was his turn to kick back.  His foot connected with Jein's side
and lances of pain ran through her body.  She wasn't sure she hadn't heard
a crack as she went spinning away, either.

   She crashed into a pedestal and knocked an ancient black and gold vase
of it.  The vase fell and missed her head by inches, but it shattered as it
fell and a jagged piece of shrapnel flew into her cheek.  The warm trickle
of blood down her face helped Jein to focus on something besides the pain
of her enemy's kick.  She looked up to see him standing over her, a long
spear taken from one of the walls in his giant hands.

   Jein panted, her eyelids sunk halfway down.  Weakly she clutched at her
aching side with one hand, and feebly reached out for the scimitar with her
other.  Without firing off any glib one-liners, but not hiding a sinister
smile, he stabbed down at Jein's heart with his spear.

   And in the blink of an eye she'd rolled out of the way and the tip of
her attacker's spear snapped off as it slammed into the floor.  Gripping
the scimitar in both hands she aimed the tip at his arms and her weapon bit
deeply into one wrist.  Blood squirted onto the floor and he let out a
scream that seemed to shake the walls.

   His weapon dropped from his hands, and he fixed Jein with a look of
confusion.  She jumped up and swung her sword at his neck but he jumped
back, took one last look at her and barreled out the front doors museum
clutching his wounded wrist.

   Immediately Cathallis dashed up and started to poke and prod at Jein. 
"Oh gods, are you all right?!  Where does it hurt??" She tore off a strip
from the bottom of her blouse to bandage Jein's cheek, and paused at the
realization she had no idea how to tie a bandage around someone's cheek.

   "I'm fine.  I need to get after that guy, though.  He stole something."

   "And you got knocked all over the room," Cathallis reminded her.  "Let
me see where he kicked you."

   "Why?" Jein asked resignedly, but started hiking up her shirt.  "You
learn how to be a doctor while you were away?"

   "No," Cathallis said.  "Although as it so happens, I am qualified to be
a nurse for most bipedal mammalian species." Jein stopped at once.  "Do you
have a uniform?" "Yes, as a matter of fact.  Two." "What color are they?"
"One's white, the other one's pink...wait, why are discussing this?  Just
show me your side," Cathallis insisted.  So Jein did, raising it just high
enough to give Cathallis a good view of her bared side, as well as two soft
half-domes of milky-white underboob.  Cathallis prodded Jein's side with
one hand and gently caressed her sister's boob-flesh with the other.  "Now
who's getting off-topic?" Jein grumbled.

   "It FEELS all right," Cathallis said.  "Does it hurt here?" She poked
lightly at the rest part of the mark left by the monster's kick.

   Jein bit her lip for three whole seconds before she answered.  "No.  It
feels fine.  I really gotta go NOW, Cath." She yanked her shirt back down
so hard they could both hear a seam popping somewhere.  Cathallis held out
a hand to stop her sister, which not coincidentally sank half an inch into
Jein's right breast.

   "Fine, but we're going together."

   "Fine, whatever!  Let's go!"

   Luck was with them.  As soon as they finally managed to get out the
door, the orc was finally managing to wrestle the burly owner of a burly
hover truck out of the driver's seat with one hand.  He jumped in and the
engine roared, and the truck peeled off down the street.

   Jein threw her bloodied scimitar in the backseat, damage to the
upholstery the last thing on her mind.  She gunned the engine and stomped
the gas.  The truck was just careening around a corner, but with an ease
born of months of practice, Jein shot around the corner right after it at
top speed.

   "You know, you really shouldn't throw sharp things at people you like,"
said a voice from the backseat, and Cathallis screamed as the head of a
raccoon poked out between their seats.

   "What the fuck are you doin' in my car, Jeer?" Jein demanded, but didn't
take her eyes off the truck as it wove in and out of early evening traffic.

   "You KNOW it??" Cathallis screeched.

   "I feel like I already know you," Jeer crooned over at the dark-haired
twin.  "You must be Cathallis.  Jein's told me everything about you."

   "I did not!" Jein retorted.  "I only told him I had another sister who
was prettier than me.  Cath, this is the guy who helped Jasami out that
time she snuck out of the house and ran into a bunch of monsters."

   "I thought she made that up for attention," Cathallis replied.  "And I
am NOT prettier than you."

   "Are too..."

   Jeer tapped Jein on the shoulder.  "You might wanna back off a bit. 
He'll know you're tailing him if you follow this close for too long."
Lights flashing, a police car whizzed around a corner in front of them and
Jein had to swing briefly into the other lane to avoid hitting it.  It
pulled up behind the truck, which suddenly slammed on the brakes.  The
police car hit the rear bumper and went careening off it at an angle. 
Straight at Jein's car.  Her knuckles white, Jein swerved around the police
car as it spun across the road, leaving it behind as she kept speeding
after their quarry.  "He's driving like a maniac!  Speed's kind of the name
of the game!"

   "So...do you two do this kind of thing often?" Cathallis asked slightly
as they shot around another corner.

   "No," Jein said.  "I haven't been on an honest to god adventure since
the thing with the vampires.  No matter what Jeer calls going to those
clubs."

   The coonkin poked her.  "Are you that jaded already?"

   "If I could save the world by putting money in chicks' g-strings, I
would, but I don't think I can.  Now shut up and let me drive!"

   Following the truck didn't prove hard, but Jein slipped back and
switched off her headlights as traffic started to thin and they neared the
perimeter wall of Zenith.  As the buildings got a little seamier and houses
were replaced by warehouses, Jein hunched her shoulders and she heard a
clacking sound that she realized was Cathallis nervously biting her nails.
After another few minutes, the monster stopped the truck, jumped out and
ran down an alley.

   Silently, cautiously, Jein stopped the car.  "Cathallis, can you drive?"
Her sister nodded, so Jein said, "Go call the cops.  Tell them that guy's
around here.  We'll find him and try to make enough noise they won't have
any trouble finding where he is."

   Numbly, Cathallis nodded.  "Good.  Now get going.  Go home and wait for
me," Jein said and leaned into the backseat to get her borrowed sword, and
Jeer scampered out of the backseat on all fours.  He followed as Jein ran
down the dingy street where the orc had disappeared.  Behind them, the car
silently retreated into the night.

   Making as little noise as possible, Jein hurried after the faint sounds
of her enemy's receding footsteps.  Every few seconds they would stop, and
she and Jeer would jump into the nearest patch of shadows and cling against
the wall of the building they were passing.  Jeer had a slightly easier
time of it, it seemed to Jein, but that was because of the gigantic blade
she carried.  What the four-foot raccoon would do if they found themselves
in a fight was something she was wondering, though.

   A few minutes of furtive following, they ended up outside an only
moderately decrepit building.  Jein couldn't read the sign above the door
in the darkness, but Jeer had already scampered up to the front door and
looked to be checking for booby traps as he prodded at the sidewalk slabs
and the outer door frame.

   "Find anything?"

   "No," he said, not looking away from his work.

   "Is that good or bad?"

   "Probably bad.  If I was a total amateur I'd go right in the door, and
there'd be a trap on the inside."

   "But you're not."

   Jeer shook his head.  "So, as a non-amateur, I'd say we need to find a
less obvious way in." So saying, he dropped to all fours and ran around the
corner of the building.  Jein followed after him as quickly as she could
while moving quietly, and peering into every shadow for more like the
monster who attacked her.  She wrapped her fingers tighter around the hilt
of her weapon, and there was something familiar, something reassuring of
its heft in her hands.  Even though it was the first real sword she could
remember ever touching.

   Cautiously, Jeer pushed at the panes of a couple ground-floor windows
with his nimble little raccoon hands.  He jumped back and ran out of view
when one rattled at his touch, but a second later returned and gave it
another prod.  The pane swung inward, leading into a dark, apparently empty
room.

   "You bring a light?" Jein asked.  "I didn't think to."

   "Tsk tsk!" Jein shook his head in playful derision.  "What would your
mother say if she heard you weren't properly equipped when an adventure
landed in your lap?"

   "You know who my mom was, right?  Because that'd probably be funnier
with somebody else."

   He didn't answer directly, instead fishing a pen light out of one pocket
and flicking it on.  Slowly he swept it across the room, which looked to
have once been a storage closet, and was about to crawl through the window
when Jein put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

   "The warrior should go in first," she said.

   "No offense, but you said yourself you haven't had a lot of experience."

   "I killed one of those things tonight.  And I bagged a vampire on my
first time out."

   Jeer nodded.  "Hmmm.  Not bad.  Okay, after you, destroyer of evil."

   With a sigh, Jein sank to her knees and started to crawl through the
windowpane.  She was in up to her waist when she felt a gust of cool air
blow across her hip.

   "You better not be looking up my fucking skirt," she warned.

   "Perish the thought," Jeer said with a voice that sounded an awful lot
like the bulk of his attention was elsewhere.  She glanced over her
shoulder and saw he did indeed have a stick clutched in one small hand, the
other end of which was being used to raise the hem of her skirt.

   "God damn it!" Jein almost yelled but remembered they were meant to be
sneaking in and lowered her voice.  She awkwardly lashed out with a kick
behind her but Jeer dropped his stick and easily scampered out of the way.

   "The dark colors suit you, you know?" he said, sounding almost
philosophical.  "They contrast really well with your hair."

   "Will you quit playin' fashion critic?  We're on a serious mission
here."

   Jeer grinned roguishly.  "I'm not playing fashion critic, I'm playing
underwear critic.  My job's way more fun.  Besides, you're the top-heavy
warrior princess, I'm the rakish rogue.  I have to admire the ladies.  It's
in the job description."

   Jein crawled inside and dropped to the floor, then turned back to Jeer.
"Fine, fine.  That's a double standard coming from me anyway, isn't it? 
Let's go, okay?"

   He slipped into the room with her and stood just behind her as she
peeked into the hallway to see if anyone was coming.  The hall was vacant,
but the lights were on within it.  Obviously not as abandoned as it looked
on the outside...

   They crept out and clung to the walls.  Despite the lights being on,
there were no sounds of the orc or any of his friends making their way
toward the pair.  She wasn't sure she'd admit it to Jeer, but it was
unsettlingly like her first adventure, where she'd been sneaking into a
vampire's crypt, only to be caught and almost made into one of his slaves.
The sore ribs that the monster from the museum gave her, right near the
scars she carried from the fight with Lucius Handred, were a stark
reminder.

   "Hey," Jeer pawed her hip to get her attention.  "What did that friend
of yours take, anyway?  Why's it so important we get it back?"

   "It was some kind of black disc made of rock."

   "Hmmm," Jeer replied.

   "Hmmm?"

   "Hmmm," he nodded.  "Doesn't sound like something worth stealing. 
Unless..."

   "...unless it's part of a set, or part of something bigger," Jein
finished for him.

   The coonkin chuckled.  "You're already sounding like a thief, you know
that?"

   "Don't try to tell me what class to pick."

   He tilted his head.  "What WHAT to pick?"

   She held up a finger to her lips for silence to answer him.  He perked
an ear and nodded, then both ducked into a door just on the outside of one
of the cones of light shining down from above.  In a second a pair of
unsavory-looking characters walked into view.

   The two men didn't look much like the ones from the museum.  One of them
had pale blue skin and long white hair just a shade darker than Jein's own,
and a slight build reminding her of the elves she'd accompanied on her
vampire-slaying quest.  One had gray skin and a metal plate covering the
left half of his face.  He looked big enough to play chicken with trains
and win.

   "Is it the real thing?" the blue one asked.

   "It's the real thing," his half-faced friend assured him.  "We can get
rid of him tonight."

   "Good," the blue one shivered.  "How long do they really expect us to
keep him locked up anyway?  I swear, every time I wait for that door to
bust open and--"

   "Stop it," the half-faced one growled.  "This entire thing was planned
in advance from top to bottom.  Everything was accounted for.  Not that
you'd know anything about how that brain of yours works..."

   They were nearly up against the doorway where Jein and Jeer were
crouching.  Suddenly something poked her in the leg and she stifled a gasp
of surprise.  Jeer was daubing some kind of jelly in a small jar on his
little raccoon claws, and pointed to her sword and then the two monsters
that were almost upon them.  She nodded.

   The two passed the doorway, then the bigger one stopped and turned their
way.  But before he knew what was going on, a screaming raccoon had
launched itself at what was left of his face.  Jeer started to claw and
rend at the monster's face and chest, and the blue one turned to come to
his cohort's aid.  Jein flew out of the shadows, jump-kicked him in the
stomach and then chased after him swinging her sword.

   Her first hit bit deeply.  He clenched his teeth, but then swung his
fist and belted Jein in the face.  She groaned but held onto her weapon as
she backed off to ride with the momentum of the blow.  As quickly as she
could Jein steadied herself and eyed the blue monster to see if he'd attack
again next and how to defend against it.

   Indeed he did attack again, but he did it by staying exactly where he
was and holding out one cupped palm.  Bluish-white light was starting to
swirl there, and Jein ran at him as fast as she could to cut him down
before he could do whatever he was planning with it.  She raised her sword
high, and brought it down on his outstretched arm with all her strength...

   ...then was blown off her feet by a blast of arctic cold.  She heard a
tearing sound and could only hope it hadn't been her skin as she went
flying back and slammed into the wall ten feet from where she'd stood.  The
blast of cold relented a second later, but Jein still instinctively wrapped
her arms around her shoulders.  That was when she noticed how hard her
nipples had gotten from the sudden chill.  Which was probably owing at
least a little to how she saw a pile of rags that looked a lot like what
might have once been the shirt and jacket she'd had on.

   "Oh my god, are you kidding me?!" Jein demanded of no one in particular
as she looked down at acres of her own naked breasts.  The blue monster
leered but he was already charging up another blast.  She had only a second
to cross ten feet and try to stop him, and hadn't thought to work much
running into her fitness regime.

   If only she'd actually gone jogging with the cute girls instead of
simply watching them go by...

   She took a few running steps, then jumped and curled into a ball as she
went flying at the blue creature.  The first rush of cold air blew over her
but she thrust her legs out.  Her ribs ached in protest but she slammed her
feet into her attacker's chest.  He groaned and went down like a felled
tree, but Jein was too busy bobbing her head from one side to the other to
avoid being clubbed by her own massive breasts as they bounced wildly up
and down from the force of her kick.

   A shrill screech filled her ears as Jeer was thrown through the air and
landed next to the blue elf.  Jein lopped off the elf's head as neatly as
she could with one cut and quickly slashed at the plate-faced one's leg.

   He snarled and dodged out of the way, but just barely.  Jein's blade
skimmed down his hip and blood dribbled from the wound.  There were several
trails of blood running down his chest and abdomen too, exactly in the
shape of Jeer's claws, and with a slight greenish tint to the vital fluids
leaking from them.

   That probably accounted for the monster's punch at her head coming in
slow enough for her to duck under it with ease.  Another swing of her sword
and the offending arm landed on the floor with a splat, and then a clang as
his head joined it.

   "God damn it," Jein looked down at her naked breasts and stomach again,
and the shreds that had been her top.  The only thing keeping her modest
now was her miniskirt, and even that sagged dangerously off her right hip,
a large chunk of the waistband no doubt torn away by the same blast that
left her topless.  "Jeer, you ok--" She turned toward where he had landed,
but he was gone.

   Then she heard the sound of fabric tearing and her skirt and panties
slid to the floor.  Jeer stood beside her, one bony clawed finger held
exactly where the sagging waistline of her skirt had been.

   "In my defense, that was gonna happen as soon as you moved anyway," he
said.  Then he looked down at her legs.  "Nice leggings."

   "I oughta bust you over the head for that," Jein sighed.  "But we should
hide the bodies first."

   "Why?" Jeer asked.  "Oh, wait.  You meant their...yeah.  Yeah, we
should."

   After Jeer fiddled with the lock on the door where they'd been hiding,
Jein dragged the two corpses into the closet inside and then returned for
their severed body parts.  With disgust she dropped them onto the heap
where she'd left the bodies.  Then, knowing she was probably hoping for the
impossible, Jein started looking through the stacks of boxes in the back of
the room.

   "Whatcha after, honey?" Jeer inquired.  He was wiping his claws clean on
the grubby shirt of one of their opponents.

   "Clothes.  I'm not saving Zenith in my bare ass," Jein answered.  "Was
that poison you put on your fingers?"

   "Something to dull the reflexes, yeah.  He stood up to it better than I
expected, though."

   "Is that why he knocked you off him?" Jein said before she sighed and
dropped another box full of moldering papers.

   "Uh, no.  He knocked me off when I got distracted because the other one
blew your clothes off.  Anyway, he stood up to that a lot better than any
orc I ever used it on.  There's something weird about those guys."

   "You ever hear of orcs growing crystal spikes from their hands or
foreheads?" Jein asked as she sighed and threw another box aside.

   "No, but they aren't usually thieves either.  Trust me, I know plenty of
guys who'd like to have guys as strong as orcs in their gangs.  But there
just aren't any orcs in Zenith.  Even here, they have too much of a bad
rep."

   Jein pulled a black box with a hefty padlock out from behind the other
boxes she'd checked, and after a few hacks with her scimitar managed to get
the lock off.  Inside, to her relief, was a white jumpsuit she slipped on.
"Wonder why this was locked up..." she muttered as she zipped the front up.
The fit was awfully loose, but she reasoned it was better than running
around with her ass hanging out.  Now, if only she could find some more
appropriate shoes too...

   "Wonder why you're so sure you need clothes to be heroic," Jeer
muttered. She didn't answer him, her attention was seized by a sound of
static that seemed to be coming from her new clothing.  Within seconds a
small face, with a texture like white porcelain, and two free-floating
hands appeared in front of her.

   "Awaiting designation," it said in a friendly, feminine voice.

   Jein fell on her ass in surprise.

   The mask-face gave a sheepish smile.  "I'm sorry if I startled you...?"

   "...what the hell's going on?" Jein asked.

   "Omnigarb unit activated and awaiting designation," the mask replied,
then stuck out her tongue.  "That means I'm waiting for my owner to give me
a name."

   "Omnigarb?  As in...this changes into other clothes??" Jein asked, her
face lightning up.  The mask-face just smiled and nodded in midair. 
"Interesting..."

   Jein squinted at the floating face in front of her, which regarded her
with a smile of pleasant curiosity.  Finally she found what she thought was
a diplomatic enough combination of words, "So...what are you?  What were
you doing in that case?"

   "I'm Omnigarb unit, and I was waiting for my mistress to find me," the
mask said and smiled playfully.

   "Why was that case there?" Jein persisted.  "Who made you?  Was it
the--...you don't know, do you?  You just got turned on for the first time,
I bet."

   "That could be read a couple different ways," Jeer said to nobody in
particular.

   "This was indeed my awakening.  I know my function, and it's to help my
mistress look her absolute best.  That's all I know."

   A thoughtful second passed.  "So you can turn into any outfit I want,
huh?"

   "May I suggest something with red lace?" Jeer indeed suggested.

   She ignored him.  "How about something with a good sports bra, pants
that are good for running?  And some combat boots?  Maybe with a steel toe?
Is that doable?"

   "Awaiting designation," the mask said again, her tone teasing this time.

   "Okay, fine!  You sound kind of like a...Clarice," Jein answered.

   Jeer gaped at her.  "Clarice??"

   "Ooooooh!  Mistress is classy!" the mask beamed.

   "I don't know if I'd call that `classy,' " Jein replied, but then her
new outfit started to unravel, the threads hanging in the air on either
side of her naked body, and then started weaving themselves together around
her feet.  Purple and black threads, the remnants of the leggings and shoes
she'd still had on, were expelled from the mass slithering up her body.

   It felt like a second skin was bonding itself to Jein, invading every
nook and crevice.  It crept up her legs, around and between her ass cheeks,
over the folds of her vagina, up her waist, over the curves of her breasts
before stopping just below her neck.  Her eyelids fluttered at the
sensation.

   "So this is what it feels like to be Cutie Honey," she mumbled.  Jeer
whistled, but kept a safe distance.  Jein looked down, and supposed she'd
look right at home on the cover of a poster for an action movie.  She now
wore black combat boots that did indeed look to have steel toes, black
form-fitting pants that didn't feel as confining as they looked like they
should've, and a white half tank top under a black vest.  All she needed to
complete the effect was a shiny gun to point at whoever was looking at her.

   As for what she had on underneath, it was hard to tell just from the
feel and she had no intention of giving Jeer any chance to see.  At least
until this was all over.  All the same, after a few practice jumps she was
sure there'd be no split seams and nailing herself in the face with her own
breasts.  But even as she was assured of the stability of her chest, there
was a strange feeling of rubbing at her nipples and the underside of her
breasts...

   "Oh my god!"

   "What is it, mistress??" Clarice asked in alarm.

   "My clothes are feeling me up!"

   "How could I resist?" Clarice grinned.  "My owner has such a fine form.
It would be a crime not to admire it."

   "She's got a point," Jeer added.  Clarice smiled at him.  "Enough of
this," Jein finally said.  "We're wasting time.  We need to find who
they're going to kill and where they went with that thing they stole."

   "Allow me," Jeer suggested, then ran to the door, hopped through,
dropped to all fours and started to run off, occasionally sniffing at the
floor.  He whipped around corners with Jein on his heels, and twice they
stopped and hid as more people passed them by.  These ones they followed as
best they could while staying out of sight.

   After a few minutes the people entered the main storage area.  Standing
in the large, nearly empty room, was a veritable mob.  Jeer and Jein crept
onto a catwalk for a better vantage point, and Jein froze.

   "There's got to be at least thirty guys down there," she whispered.

   "Closer to forty," Clarice corrected her.

   "Forty!" She peered down to get a better idea of what they were up
against.

   About half of the gathering appeared to be creatures like Jein had
fought already that night.  Scattered throughout she could make out three
blue-skinned, white-haired elves, a number of humans with crystalline
extensions on their shoulders and foreheads.  One or two were particularly
strange, with the heads of lizards or birds, complete with feathery wings
beneath that one's arms.  One creature on the outlying edges of the group
caught Jein's eye; one with eight legs, a shiny black segmented body, and
numerous glistening eyes like a spider.  Strangely he had small growths on
the end of each foot that looked almost like fingers, and below his
jewel-like eyes was the toothy mouth of some kind of animal.  He climbed
halfway up the wall off their left, and the two intruders held their breath
in nervous anticipation, but he looked away from them and toward the other
side of the room.  Jein and Jeer looked the same way and saw a metal vault
door built into the far wall.  Every few seconds a faint pounding sound
came from the other side.  Three more people melted out of the shadows. 
Two of them were brawny orcs with long knives hanging from their belts
(probably the only kinds of weapons a bunch of civilians could get away
with sneaking into Zenith), while the third was a gaunt, pale-skinned man
in a hooded gray robe, looking like some kind of priest.  He held in his
bony hands the black disc that had been stolen from the museum that night.
One of the orcs held up a large golden triangle, and the other held a
palm-sized silver carving of a skull.  The gaunt one held up the disc and
the mob fell silent.  "Brothers!" he said in a surprisingly deep and
powerful voice.  "Tonight we behead one of the Free Territories' most
powerful defenses!  Tonight, we forge a weapon capable of slaying any foe!"
A loud cheer went up.  A bloodthirsty cheer.  The thumping from the other
side of the vault door started coming quicker.  Then the priest held the
black disc out in front of him.  "Xa!" he cried out, and a shimmering white
outline formed along the rim.  The orc with the golden triangle pressed it
against the flat side of the disc.  He exclaimed, "Tro!" Then the second
orc pressed the skull against the front of the disc, and called, "Dis!" The
skull sank into the front of the disc, and it was all Jein could do not to
let out a horrified gasp.  She recognized the object now.  It was the Black
Icon, an evil artifact of horrifying power.  Such that stopping its
reformation was the entire point of the Tri-Quest game on the Action Pack
collection.  There, forces of evil were assembling it to kill the
Benevolent One, some kind of immortal being who some people believed ruled
a remote civilization somewhere on Akton, but nobody knew for certain.  But
the Black Icon was supposed to have the power to kill anything.  From
crowds of people to the biggest, strongest of dragons.  For one horrible
second, Jein could see the priest striding into the palace of the goddess
Amoril, and holding the Black Icon high as bolts of energy shot from the
eyes of the skull and burned right through the goddess.  "Hey," Jeer
prodded her, "You got a plan?" "Maybe.  You got something that can make a
good diversion?" He held up a handful of long, white objects.  With fuses
on the ends.  "I got these." The priest held the completed Black Icon high
above his head to another cheer from his followers.  "Now let the door be
opened, and the execution commence!" he yelled over the noise.  The
corbites beside him ran back and began to spin the release on the vault
door, as the cheering of their cohorts rose to a fever pitch.  One orc near
the back of the mob suddenly fell silent as something bumped into his foot.
"What's...?" he murmured as he crouched to pick it up.  In the next second
Jein and Jeer covered their ears as his remains were propelled around the
room by the bomb that had just gone off in his hand.  The priest just had
time to look up in surprise before a silhouette came hurtling off the
catwalk at him and chopped off one of his hands before he could raise the
Black Icon to defend himself.  The evil thing clattered to the floor and
Jein kicked it toward a stack of crates on the far side of the room. 
"Stand together!  We are one!" he cried out defiantly before Jein sent his
head to join his hand.  Then the priest's two bodyguards who'd gone to open
the vault door were charging at her, murderous looks in their eyes.  She
gripped her sword and ran to where the Black Icon had landed, then gave it
another kick so it skidded under a pallet supporting two very heavy-looking
crates.  As the first orc came close enough to throw a punch she swung her
leg up until it was completely perpendicular to the ground, and she was
leaning back far enough for the tips of her hair to brush against it.  The
feeling of her boot slamming into his chin was therapeutic after all the
slapping around she'd taken that night.  Time seemed to slow to a crawl. 
The rest of the group was crying out in surprise and looking around to see
what had happened.  None were swarming toward the exits, merely spreading
out into smaller groups to deny whoever was attacking one large target. 
One elf saw Jein standing over the corpse of his leader with a bloodied
sword and shouted to alert his comrades.  Just before another bomb landed
in his hand.  And went off.  "That's...sixteen titty-fucks," Jeer said to
himself as another mass of bodies was torn apart by an explosion.  Two of
the humans were charging toward him, gleaming machetes in their hands.  But
Jeer had been dodging bigger and scarier thugs than them for years, and
nipped between their legs and dropped another grenade on the way.  "And
that's nineteen," he said as the heat of the blast blew against his fur. 
As if from nowhere, one of the bodyguards drew his knife, and with it out
Jein could see it was a full-fledged machete.  With disturbing ease, he
used it to parry Jein's slash.  The other swung at her side with a blade of
his own but over the din of the chaos she heard the whistling of the weapon
and her reflexes took over.  She ducked, rolled forward and vaulted into a
kick at the first orc's stomach.  He wheezed and went sprawling.  While
she'd been busy with his friend, the other bodyguard dashed behind her and
was ducking down to stick his arm under the pallet where she'd kicked the
Black Icon.  In one vicious motion she turned and brought her scimitar down
on his wrist.  He yanked his arm out just in time to avoid losing his hand.
Then Jein dodged a slash from the other orc just in time to keep her spine
intact.  This wasn't going well.  The creatures she'd fought before had
been strong, sure, but once she'd been properly armed they seemed much more
manageable, even if a few of them had special wardrobe-decimating powers.
These ones, though, were going to overwhelm her if things kept going the
way they were, and probably very soon.  Her ability to spot openings didn't
seem to be working.  Maybe because they were coming at her too quickly, too
forcefully.  Maybe she just hadn't been in enough real fights to know how
to use it to its fullest yet.  Maybe being so close to something as
powerful as the Black Icon was screwing her up.  She darted away from the
two orcs, panting heavily, and clutched her ribs as they started to ache
again.  "This will only hurt for a second, human," one of the orcs said,
then his blade whistled toward her neck.  It only skimmed the soles of her
boots as she suddenly threw herself headfirst into a slide along the floor
and quickly pushed herself up, headbutting him in the balls.  Her forehead
blazed with pain, but for as big and strong as he was, the orc's reaction
was exactly what she'd expected.  He let out a wheezing gasp and collapsed.

   She couldn't believe that trick had worked twice in one night.  "You
could've asked me for a helmet if you were going to do that," Clarice said
as Jein got to her feet.  "If I did they would've--uhn!--expected it!" Jein
grunted and caught the wrist of the other especially hulking orc as his
blade flashed out.  It wasn't likely she'd be beating these two through
brute strength, so she used his own strength against him.  Suddenly she let
go of his arm and he stumbled forward, letting her aim a kick at where she
hoped his kidney was.  He groaned and sank to his knees.  "Ooooh, you know
your stuff!" Clarice bubbled.

   Jein didn't reply.  She'd dealt with the strongest two of whoever these
people were, but she doubted they'd be down for long.  In the meantime, a
mismatched bunch of six of their friends had broken away from the chaos
Jeer had been providing.  The explosions had stopped; she had the awful
feeling they'd caught Jeer.  The element of surprise was gone, and the tide
was shifting against her in a hurry.

   Her hands closed around the hilt of her sword.  If she let them get
their hands on the Black Icon, who knew what they'd-

   She paused.  She did know what they'd do with it.  And she was being an
idiot by not acting on that.

   As the first one entered her reach, Jein carefully interposed herself
between him and where she'd kicked the Black Icon.  Then before he had a
chance to show her how sharp he kept the blade of his weapon she lunged
low, and impaled him through the midriff.  He gurgled and slumped back,
letting her pull her scimitar free.

   Her side flared up again as she performed a vicious diagonal slash that
took off the head of the next one to come too close.  It was all Jein could
do to keep going with her admittedly desperate plan and not clutch at her
side, but she reminded herself this was a real battle.  In a real battle,
she'd get hurt for real.  And somehow, she didn't feel like finding out if
Akton had autosaves.

   Another came and Jein cut him down, then another.  As surreptitiously as
she could, she backed toward the vault door as more machetes kept swinging
at her.  She jumped, spun and beheaded another enemy, then froze as she
heard a familiar whining sound...then threw herself to the ground as
quickly as she could.

   A blast of energy ripped through the air, and Jein was dismayed to hear
the sound of sundered fabric through the assault on her ears again.  A
second later it was over, but she could feel cold air on her ass cheeks and
back.  She got up as fast as she could, glad in a strange sense that her
pants were tight enough not to immediately slide off with the seat gone.

   She got up in a hurry as the gang of creatures came up to her like a
screaming tidal wave.  Desperation lending her strength, Jein waded into
them.  She sent a head flying here, lopped off a leg there.  Her enemies
fell but her sword was growing heavier with every swing.  It was almost as
if they were glad to sacrifice themselves to see her brought down.

   Then she heard a *THWIP* sound above the death rattle of another elf,
and something jerked the sword from her hands.  It shot up toward the
ceiling where the spider-guy she'd noticed before was hanging.  He seemed
to grin between his mandibles before letting go of the roof and falling
straight down at her.

   The lightning reflexes she'd honed over months of gaming came to her
rescue and she jumped back just in time to avoid being crushed underneath
him.  The ground impacted inward when he landed, and as soon as he did he
reached out with one front leg and grabbed Jein by the ankle.  She yelped
and fell down.  The ragged concrete dug into her soft ass.

   His mandibles and teeth both slavered with a dark purple slime as he
gazed down at Jein.  It was a look she was getting tired of seeing already.
He reached out to grab her other leg with his other front leg, but in a
second it was no longer there.  Jein kicked his other front leg at the
joint, knocking it off her ankle.  She rolled and got up, and before the
spider could recover from his surprise she jumped at him and punched him as
hard as she could on the chin.

   His head jerked back and somehow his faceted eyes took on a dazed look.
Jein grabbed him by the shoulders, flipped over him onto his back, and
grabbed the hilt of her sword where it was still stuck to the back of his
rear-segment.  Whatever that was called.  She hadn't paid much attention in
science.  She was able to yank on the web just far enough to be able aim
the blade at his back and stab it in with all her strength, then twist it
more out of spite than anything.  He started to convulse and shriek
horribly as Jein jumped off him.  By then the priest's bodyguards had
recovered and were almost on top of her.  One thrust out his foot and
rammed his boot into her midriff, and she went rolling across the floor.

   The two of them loomed over her, and the rest of the mob loomed behind
them.  "Got a nice set of cheeks for a human, eh, Forn?" one of them
leered.

   "Maybe I'll enjoy them a little before I pull her arms off," said Forn.
He reached down to grab her by the shoulder.  She reached up to grab his
arm and flip him over, but he pulled back and kicked her hard in the
stomach, then the forehead.  Jein gurgled and clutched her stinging torso.
She felt an urge to vomit that she was thankful she was able to force down
after a second.

   "Get the Icon, I'll take care of her," the other bodyguard barked at
Forn, who growled at him, but got up and went to do as he'd been ordered.
The other bodyguard came up to Jein, but he didn't leer at her naked ass,
he didn't gloat at her pain or her imminent death.  He simply picked up the
weapon of one of his fallen comrades as the rest of the survivors started
to gather behind him to watch as he finished her off.  The blade gleamed as
he brought it back to ram it through her rib cage...

   And she lunged forward and bit him as hard as she could on the leg. 
There was nothing skillful or majestic about such tactics, but perhaps for
that same reason it seemed to be the only kind of offense that managed to
take them by surprise.  They saw a daring plan, they expected a daring
hero. Not one willing to fight dirty.  He yowled and Jein let go and
crab-walked awkwardly to one side to stay out of the way as he dropped his
machete in surprise.

   Jein got up and went into a staggering run at the vault door, mooning
her attackers the entire way.  It didn't matter.  She had no idea where
Jeer was and if her stupid hunch didn't pay off they were both dead.  She
was only a few feet from the door when she heard Forn yell an alien word,
his voice amplified by some infernal power so as to be heard even among the
blood-crazed screams of his remaining allies.

   "Mo-AH!" he cried.  He held the Black Icon above his head, and a
glistening green cloud started to flow from it.  A few of his friends who
were too close behind Jein were enveloped as they rushed to catch her.  The
flesh was seared from their skeletons and then even the bones disintegrated
in the evil green miasma.

   With the strength of desperation Jein threw herself against the vault
door and spun the release wheel, then leaned back on it as hard as she
could.  The pounding on the other side continued, but it stopped after a
second when the clunk of the mechanism opening issued forth.  Then,
whatever had been banging on the door gave it a heave and Jein was tossed
to the floor.

   From behind the door stepped a human man.  His shoulders were broad, but
his physique otherwise unremarkable.  He wore nothing but a pair of ragged
pants, and a scraggly gray beard hung most of the way down his chest.  He
smelled of stale sweat and a strange sharp odor that Jein figured was
probably blood, but his eyes--the color of steel--were alert, and all it
took was a second for him to size up the situation, seize Jein around the
waist and FLY straight up into the air just as the cloud singed off the
backs of her boots.

   Forn trained the Black Icon on them, and the sinister cloud it emitted
followed them.  Jein's savior clutched her tighter as he flew toward Forn
in an arc to avoid the cloud.  In a second he was right next to Forn, and
kicked the miscreant's head off his shoulders.  The Black Icon tumbled from
his hands, but Forn's ten or so surviving friends didn't make any move to
grab it.  Gently, he set Jein down on the floor, then flew toward them.

   She looked away before the shouting started, laid herself down on the
grimy floor as gently as she could to clutch at her head and ignore what
happened next as hard as she could.  The pain was bad enough for the
moment. A few hours later, or what seemed like hours, the screams stopped
and were replaced by wailing sirens.

   "Are you all right, Miss?" a deep voice asked.  She looked up and saw
the bearded man kneeling over her.

   "I'm fine...Agent L," she said with a soft smile.

   "Where did you hear that name?" he asked, more curiously than
suspicious.

   "I hear a lot of things.  You used to be a guy called Liberator, didn't
you?  You were in Legion Alpha, until you stepped down to be the
administrative leader instead of combat leader a while ago."

   "Hrmph," he grunted and pulled at his beard.  "They told me growing this
out would make it easier to hide..."

   "I have some unusual sources.  Sir, did you see a big raccoon over
there?" Jein interrupted.  "Was he okay?"

   "A coonkin, you mean?  Yes, but he was running out as fast as anything
I've ever seen when I got over there.  And don't call me sir, please.  I'm
not THAT old yet."

   "Okay," Jein nodded.  She said nothing about being glad Jeer got out. 
Liberator wasn't exactly his kind of people.

   Liberator gave Jein a hard, scrutinizing look.  "All right then, you
know who I am.  Let's hear who you are."

   She rubbed the bump on her forehead.  "I'm Jein Devyre, and--"

   Liberator bent down until he was almost lying down next to her.  "You're
WHO??  Don't mock me, little girl.  I'm in no mood to hear someone tell
tasteless jokes."

   "How long were you in there??  A bunch of perverts ran all these tests
on me and my sisters to prove who we are!  That was weeks ago!" Jein
snapped.  She couldn't help it, her forehead hurt like a son of a bitch. 
"NOBODY heard about that?  Did Paetra shut that up or something??...God,
sorry.  This thing just...really freaking hurts."

   He didn't reply.  A second later the room was full of men and women in
dark blue uniforms who brandished their weapons around until.  Jein curled
up and shut her eyes.  Her head hurt enough already.

   Risk her life to save a guy, and this was the thanks she got?

   --------

   Somewhere in the cacophony of officers of the law investigating what had
happened in the warehouse, Cathallis appeared next to her sister.  Somehow
they ended up on what looked and felt like a bed in the back of an
ambulance.  Strangers gathered around Jein, until she heard Cathallis make
a few pointed statements that sounded like medical jargon.  A second later
the strangers were gone and her forehead was soothingly cool while she felt
Cathallis's familiar delicate hand stroking affectionately at her cheek.

   "I hope we can have normal dates sometimes, too," Cathallis whispered.

   "The call to action can come any time," Jein said, then glanced around
before whispering, "Are they gone?"

   "They're checking out that man you saved.  But in my professional
opinion, the only treatment he needs is a bath." Her hands moved down
Jein's neck, to her bare belly and then started to slip her vest off with
one hand.

   "Hey..." Jein protested, but feebly.  She sat up to let Cathallis remove
the vest, and then achingly raised her arms to let her twin remove the rest
of her upper garments.  Her shirt let out a disappointed whine as Cathallis
set it aside.

   "What was that?"

   "Oh yeah.  My clothes are kind of alive," Jein explained.  "Kind of. 
Right, Clarice?  And, uh...I don't really know how it works for you.  Are
you gonna be okay?"

   The mask appeared hovering over Jein's discarded top.  "I'll be fine.  I
can grow back, after all." Cathallis shrank back from the face for a
second, then helped Jein out of her tattered pants.  She blushed a little
for some reason as she looked at the missing seat before setting the pants
aside, then covered her naked twin with a blanket.

   Gently, Cathallis prodded at Jein's body underneath the blanket in a way
that seemed intended to discern where any injuries were, but her impromptu
examination stopped when her fingers were resting between Jein's thighs. 
Shamelessly, she stroked slowly at her sister's folds and bumped Jein's
clitoris with her thumb.  In appreciation Jein reached out and stroked
C'thallis's cheek with her toes.  "Cath," Jein gently moaned after a
minute, "are you sure you're really a nurse?"

   "Of course I am.  But the medics already checked you out and made sure
you were all right before I could push my way through," she smiled
impishly. "Things have gotten quite a bit more advanced while we were
away..."

   "I'll say," grunted a man in a blue suit and reflective sunglasses who
seemed to appear out of nowhere next to Cathallis.  He grabbed up Clarice
and strode away, shooting Jein a dirty look over his shoulder as he did. 
"This is royal property, missy."

   "Unhand me this instant!" Clarice shrieked.  "I've been claimed!  If you
think for one second that I'll let anyone else wear--"

   Cathallis gave Jein an apologetic look.  "Maybe it's just as well...by
the way, what was that friend of yours doing hiding in the backseat?"

   "Waiting for a chance to try to talk us into a threesome, I'll bet you
anything," Jein answered.  "Damn it, though.  I was kinda looking forward
to having an instant wardrobe..."

   "Jasami would've stolen it as soon as she knew what it was."

   Jein sighed.  "Cath, can I ask you something that's probably a little
out of the blue?"

   "What's that?"

   "Well, you know how I don't have my memories of when we were little...do
you think I'm that different from, um, before?"

   Cathallis smiled then she stroked over Jein's clit with her whole palm.
"Not really.  Except now you're hitting boys with real swords instead of
wooden ones."

   "I did that?" Jein moaned.

   A surprisingly impish smile was on Cathallis's face as she nodded in
reply.  "I found some of the pictures.  I'll show you when we get home."

   "Which might not be for a while," one of the agents said over his
shoulder to her, a bit darkly.

   "Oh, what now?" Jein groaned.

   The agent turned and was about to answer when Liberator stepped in front
of him.  "These good people are worried about how they're going to explain
to their superiors, who they fear are ultimately going to have to explain
things to the queen herself, that they recovered the Omnigarb...after it
had locked itself to a user."

   "Herself," Jein corrected him.  A soft giggle from somewhere nearby
echoed the statement.

   It was hard to tell behind his thick beard, but it twitched around his
mouth, as if she'd gotten a smile out of him.  "Herself.  Nonetheless, the
point still stands that you've effectively stolen something meant for the
queen herself.  Even if those people who were trying to kill me did steal
it first."

   "So...what?  Am I under arrest or something?" Jein sighed.

   "Nonetheless," Liberator continued as if he hadn't heard her, "you also
saved my life, were responsible for breaking up a conspiracy intent on
weakening the Free Territories, and prevented an object of deadly power
from falling into the wrong hands."

   Jein perked an eyebrow in bemusement.  "Yeah?" There was a knowing
looking in his eyes as he went on.  "Miss Devyre, I think I can convince
the queen to overlook the loss of the Omnigarb if, as I suspect, you're
interested in serving your queendom."

   Cathallis clenched the blanket nervously in one hand, sure of what she
was about to hear.  Jein looked up at Liberator, and had the feeling her
aunt was going to hate whatever offer he was about to make.  "Go on..."