360 | John W. Warner IV sheep wool and tartans, sweetest toffee biscuits, silkiest clotted cream, finest oatmeal stout in the soddy olgalaxy. Stew probed her mind for weakness, but she pushed him back mentally, a Spanish bull knocking down an over-curious Matador. Owl Shes got talent, brother. He tried again, making Bea wince with pain while she held her head. A battering ram. Sensing his brothers struggle, Lew joined in. A cape buffalo. They both pinched her carotid artery with their minds. Arrggnnnnnn… Bea fell to her knees in agony, screaming, her darkened mind under fierce attack by Stuka dive-bombers, her limbs bleeding red, but within seconds she remembered how to align her chakras and breathe deeply Shieldmaiden-style, focusing her mind and spirit for a fight. Slowly arising with new vigor, she punched Lew in the gut and pitched wine in Stews face, the ram and buffalo meeting a giant granite bull with horns of Krupp steel. Dont even try me with that consciousness claptrap, Ill mentally bare-knuckle the both of you to the floor! Thats right, Im helter-skelter, a fritzy, a discombobulated booby-hatch. As a Shieldmaiden, they tried to break me psychically time after time. Drugged me silly. Red lights, electronics, hypnotherapy. Torchlight satanic rituals for Moloch, Hei, and Odin. Rape and torture. Guess what? Didnt work. This ships weird vibrations have somehow sharpened the old brain box, as it were. Dont know how or why, but they did. Now, given all that, kindly stand down, or Ill circumcise you both with a rusty mental razor. Oo-o-h-h, I like this one, shes got hutzpah, wheezed Lew, aborting his attack. How rare, how exciting, a true descendent of the infamous Madame du Barry. Sit, sit and be cordial. Stew rubbed his stomach and sat. Oocb. Youd have made an excellent boxer, madame, or, more likely you were one in some other lifetime. Fine. But what do you really have in trade besides rotten oatmeal and sticky toffee pudding? asked Stew, calmly folding his hands, not one for being outplayed by a lowly surface-dweller. What are you really interested in? She held up the Justice card. Wrongs righted. Porsche and Gerlach attempted to fix the bullet damage on the Tellus. Hand me a needle-nose plier, said Porsche. He pulled out a gear and mainspring. Ill have to fix this on the workbench. So intricate.