A doctor stepped up, a tall Ghaleran. He began speaking in his psychic voice that for some reason sounded more distinct than ever to Ben, and less fri...ghtening. "Hello Ben. I am Doctor Vla'por. You are currently in the infirmary of Black Base, the forward base of the Missouri Defense Lines. You were brought here when the Chicago base fell to the Liodammians. You were in horrible shape. The missile that hit you was especially designed to home in on and kill Warriors. Not only did the shrapnel. I’m sitting at my mom’s personal computer so I can write down what all happened. Sometimes I remember more things, and now I can go back and insert them in the story at the right time they happened. I don’t want my wife to know I’m writing this, so I’m doing this at mom’s house.Dad left her years ago. A lot happened.Mom and I had a personal secret. I was about 11 when I remember it started. My mom started touching me. Just a little at first, letting her fingers wander around my body. She liked. You had already left. They say parting is such sweet sorrow and I have to agree. I cried for days after you had gone, hating myself for being so weak, cursing you for leaving and not feeling what I felt. I know it’s futile to write this, but I feel that I ma receive some closure in expressing this torment I am going through. I do not intend to send this letter, not that I have your new address anyway. I hope to find some comfort, some peace in the act of putting my thoughts on paper. You will. Yet you and Berthold seem to have known each other for a long time. Jake here hides behind his ignorance of my language. But give me some credit. I am not totally daft. I too can feel it when someone is shirking. The way you reacted to the doctor, and the disdainful way you treated him, proves that you must have some inroads which are closed to me. Because you are right. I too feel that he is not an honourable man, but cannot put a finger on it. Please?" Helmut, call me Alfred. – Berthold told.