A/N

This entire cosmic storm arch has been months in the making if not a entire year and used to be one chapter.

Please listen to Evil Angel by Breaking Benjamin.

You will know when it is the time to do so. I trust you will. If you don't, just replay this song throughout the story arch. Was getting close to 20k so I decided to split this sucker into parts because it was getting so long and some parts were either completed enough to be their own chapter or needed to be their own chapter.

Enjoy.

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The camera panned over to a office where it was raining. The rain was gently going down the see through window then panned away to reveal two figures sitting in two couches silently smoking in front of it. The chairs were across from a desk and a pool of warm orange light making the room feel alive. The camera went back over toward the chairs then rotated to reveal Smith was sitting across from Duktok holding a empty glass in one hand while sitting in a black couch that seemed to be decorated in white glitter which sparkled in the lighting.

Duktok waved his long, glowing cigar that released a thick line of smoke in the dimly lit room. Smith stood up, gently picking up the extra empty glass, then walked over to the bar. He placed the glasses onto the table then took out a vial from his pocket. Frank Sinatra's New York, New York was playing in the background on repeat.

"We can get over this and be friends, right?" Duktok asked.

"My friends are people in high places," Smith said. "and they are powerful."

"Such as your Intergalactic friends up there in space," Duktok said.

"Precisely," Smith said, dipping some contents of the vial into one glass then put the vial into his pocket. Smith slowly refilled his glass.

"Speaking of them, I like some business of mine dismissed by your friends," Duktok said, as Smith returned with a glass.

Duktok blew out smoke into the air.

"Hmm. . . I am not exactly that close of a friend," Smith said. "I would have to end up killing someone for that."

Duktok looked over toward the approaching Earthling.

"I am sure you can find other methods of getting favors," Duktok said.

Smith handed Duktok the glass with a smile.

"I am sure I won't," Smith said, then sat down into the chair. "I made a mistake last time and I will make a mistake next time."

Duktok took a sip of the glass. The imprint of his silver-glitter lipstick made the glass sparkle. Smith twirled his glass, gently, looking down toward the contents in contemplation. Smith took a sip from the glass leaning his elbow against the arm rest. Smith flinched, then situated himself into the chair and painfully relaxed. Duktok took another sip as Smith rubbed the side of his head visibly bothered by the old, humiliating shame.

"And that mistake was staying behind longer than you should have?" Duktok asked.

"Indeed, indeed," Smith said, briefly closing his eyes. "I have some business to finish here before I return."

Duktok's eyebrow rose in surprise.

"Thought you were staying," Duktok said, twirling the half full glass in one hand.

"I never said I was staying," Smith lowered his hand down to his lap.

"So the rumors are true," Duktok said. "You are becoming a spider hybrid. Yet, they let you stay among them."

"They are under the impression I would die first before harming them," Smith said.

Duktok took another sip from the glass.

"I can't see why," Duktok said. "They don't know you as well as I do."

Smith's warm, guilty facade with the smile slowly faded off his face in the span of a second morphing into a cold and murderous glare.

"Let's say for arguments sake that they don't want to use me," Smith said. "Unlike some people I know."

Duktok let go of the glass then his hand fell to the arm rest.

"What did you do to me?" Duktok said, his eyes darting toward Smith.

"I like not to have long standing associations with people like you," Smith said.

Smith came over to the panel on the table then pressed a few buttons.

"You don't have to do this," Duktok said. "we can still have a alliance."

Smith had a good laugh at her that was very unsettling.

"You tossed your life aside when you put the Robinsons in harms way," Smith said. "What can I expect based off that? Another failed attempt."

"I don't make the same mistakes twice," Duktok said.

"Which is why I paralyzed you," Smith said. "I would like to die. . . . Just not here." Smith's attention was on the computer screen where he went in erasing every mention of his name and replaced with the name of someone else. The green text changed before his eyes as his fingers flew on the keyboard.

"We can work out a deal-" Duktok was interrupted

"You're not at the top of the food chain," Smith cut Duktok off, pressing enter. "You're weak, you're vulnerable, and easily deceived by a spy," he looked up toward Duktok. "You're prey."

The orange light was replaced by a dark-blueish gray depressing light slipping into the room. Sweat was dripping down Duktok's skin. Smith put on a pair of gloves then slid out a drawer and took out a laser pistol. It seemed to be long, sleek, and dark. Duktok was terrified, listening to Smith approach him. He stood in front of him applying a small pillow underneath the laser pistol. He pressed the trigger. A single bloodshot wound landed in Duktok's forehead then the head tilted back and blood came spilling out from the side of the mouth with the corpse's eyes staring at the ceiling.

Smith silently posed the scene cleaning off where he had held the handle then applied her fingers to it. It was done carefully, making sure that her fingers left the fingerprints behind. He moved the laser pistol into Duktok's hand and made his way off to the recycling machine that was set within the bar. He pressed a button using the side of his hand. He walked over toward the chairs, picked up his glass, and the faint shapes of light through the window flicker before his eyes admiring the dreary city. He took another sip from the glass. Sinatra's voice drew long at New York lyric as the camera slowly drew away from the crime scene.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

The arrangements were made and pieces of the plan came into shape. The silence that echoed through out the Jupiter 2 was disturbing. Empty quarters belonging to Judy and Don was very eerie to the Robinsons. More eerie then being in their current predicament. It was strange to have the space pod taken out of the ship and be given a impromptu landing pad ten feet away from the Jupiter 2. It was even more strange to send one man alone to do what would lead into a frenzy of phaser firing and defense systems being offline.

If the doctor's comment was true, this fire fight was going to go exactly the way that John had foreseen. Maureen didn't want to imagine what could have happened if John and Robot went in there to the ship for the couple only to never come back. Smith was silent staring at the space pod that was set outside of the Jupiter 2. He was set in a wheelchair with his hands clasped in his lap looking on quite worried of the events ahead. She could see the older version in his place with the same visible tremble that echoed throughout his soul. Maureen joined his side so he turned toward her.

"What is going to happen if you scan you and they do things that isn't very light to happen?" Maureen asked.

"I survive," Smith said. "A certainty for me."

"How are you so sure about that?" Maureen raised a brow.

"People like me don't just die cruelly," Smith reassured. "Where I am from. . . villains die with a bang. That's a given."

"I hope that bar code works,"

"Madame, where I am from. . It wouldn't work because it is out of use," Smith said. "QR code asides. It will work because there is hope and suspension of being very intelligent on the side of the villains here." He had a laugh at the comment. "It is something I find amusing. Anyone not of your family can believe any lie I say. Such as that I like spiders."

"Inconceivable coming from you," Maureen said. "You don't look like a spider person."

"Or that I dislike dogs," Smith said.

"Of course you do," Maureen said.

"I like dogs," Smith amended. He tilted his head, taken back, concerned then raised his brows. "He doesn't like dogs?"

"There was this alien dog one time and he hated it," Maureen said.

"Ah," Smith said, understandingly. "I dislike alien dogs."

"What is the worst that can happen if. . ." Maureen said. "If your universe spills out even more in the rescue mission?"

Smith snickered at the thought.

"Major West returning with a broken nose," Smith said.

"I don't want any of your lies about this mission," Maureen said. "This is very dangerous."

"It's always dangerous," Smith commented.

"Even having a different version of someone I know with everything that he touches gets a darker shade or changes going along. . . ." She couldn't bring herself to finish that comment

"The worst is. . . Madame. . ." Smith said. He cringed at the thought that his mind was already picturing. "Judy, Major West, your husband, and Robot not making it out alive. And my demise." Then his tone turned more cheerful than normal. "Good news is: none of that is going to happen."

"I thought you were the pessimistic kind," Maureen raised a brow.

"Someone is doomed, yes." Smith said. "Very doomed." He had a smile that reeked of evil. A smile that was unsettling. "Just not your family." The words were reassuring. "You have demon-no, no, no- a evil angel owing you a favor so you will be immune to what is going on up there."

Smith pointed toward the sky.

"Do you honestly see yourself as a fallen angel, Doctor Smith?"

"Angels are seen as monsters in their true form," Smith said. "And it drives people to the path of hysteria."

"I saw your real form and I haven't became hysterical," Maureen said.

"That was a picture," Smith said. "You haven't seen how nasty he is. Face to face."

"Have you?" Maureen asked. "From face to face."

"I have seen his entire form in my nightmares," Smith said. "It is like. . ." he looked off, haunted, disturbed. "he is haunting me. He never really died that day." Smith lowered his head with a shaky sigh.

"I can say the same about you," Maureen placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," Smith carefully patted on her hand with a small smile.

"Smith, let's go," John said.

"Professor?" Smith wheeled forward in the direction of the professor visibly startled.

John stopped from across the man.

"You think I would let you go to the shuttle alone?" John asked.

"Given the events that are going to be happening," Smith said. "I would think so."

"We don't know if Nipoz came with back up and they are hiding," John said. "Another pair of eyes is better than one."

John looked on toward the concerned matriarch then nodded so she visibly relaxed.

"I thought we killed them all,"

"We may or may not have," John said. "They could have left one of their own behind to guard it."

Smith flipped a silver switch on the arm rest then the wheelchair wheeled forward. His toes felt tight against the edges of the boots. "Tight means it fits," His own comment had came back to haunt him. But, the shoe was too tight for his liking. And it was outright concerning at best. His boots hadn't felt that tight the last time that he had worn them. They made their way further and further from the Jupiter 2 that it vanished among the outcrop of rocks and trees.

"Professor,"

"What is it?"

"Last week I had a corrective lower body surgery,"

"And?" And a bad feeling started to come to in the professor's gut.

"It came back,"

"How soon?" John asked. "How close are you to laying eggs?"

"I am not sure," Smith shook his head. "It is happening so fast."

"Soon as this mission," John said, hopefully, a tone that alarmed Smith looking up toward his direction.

"If it comes down to the worse possible situation, I may lay the eggs and it will be very chaotic when they hatch. It is very vital you get out of there quickly should the worst possible situation begins playing out."

"What if I need you to lay those eggs?" John turned toward Smith raising a brow.

Smith looked toward the left, thinking it over, then lowered his gaze.

"I don't exactly know how to lay eggs," Smith said. "It is my first time becoming my inner demon."

"A female knows how to lay eggs," John said. "It seems male and female space spiders don't care about the normal arrangement of biology."

"Biologist, now?" Smith asked, raising a brow.

"It is fact," John said. "It must be like how female animals and women deliver their young. When the moment arrives. . . their body knows what to do."

"It could be that way," Smith admitted.

"Space insects are very strange, Smith," John said.

"As are humans," Smith agreed. "It's one thing we share in common with lower lifeforms. Wait ten minutes before going to the ship."

"It won't be instant?"

Smith paused considering the question.

"Fifteen if getting to the stamp scanning room is a long walk," Smith said. "Technology is older here and it isn't instantaneous."

"So if this were happening where you're from. . ." John started.

"One man alone cannot protect two people with one laser pistol when surrounded," Smith said. "Worst case scenario. I knew a colleague who did that on Earth during the war." he grew saddened recalling the memory. "There were no survivors."

"The universe is a lot kinder here," John earned a nod from the colonel. "We have a chance to survive it."

"The first face that Judy may want to see is her mother after this very troubling experience." Smith lowered his hand. "This rescue mission could be an all out family outing if you want it to be. A unconventional one."

"Speaking of family outings . . ." John said.

"I like not to be part of another one with your family," Smith said. "For all things considered."

"I agree with that assessment," John said. "You look very close to becoming a different species."

"Professor," Smith said. "If it were you in my place, I really believe your inner self would be angelic."

"Angelic," John snickered. "You know as I do that I would bear the appearance of a king."

"True true," Smith agreed. "If. . "

"If what, Smith?" John asked.

"If I completely mutate to him," Smith said. "Would you be fine with no trace left behind of the creatures?"

"Depends on what you mean by no trace left behind," John looked down toward the doctor.

"I was thinking of being aboard the ship while it fell into the sun," Smith said. "That way no one else would have to go through my nightmare and face certain tragedy."

"As much as that would be appealing, Smith," John said. "That isn't the answer for you."

"This is because your family won't like this sacrifice," Smith looked up toward the man.

"Not because of that," John shook his head. "I believe there is still hope out there."

"This close to losing my humanity," Smith said. "That is the finish line of the whole ordeal."

"If everyone were like that then we wouldn't be in space," John said. "Hope only runs out when there isn't any room for it. I still see room for it."

"You are better than your father,"

Smith's comment earned sharp head turn from the younger man.

"My father is a farmer,"

"Deceased military serviceman where I am from. Excellent tactics. Lots of bloodshed. Died by his own combat mission."

"Did you know him?"

"Well, I tended to his last operation. . . Before the combat mission and he was the most mission focused man I ever met," Smith said. "I want to think you are lucky for dodging the bullet that makes our universes so unique."

"My family is lucky," John agreed. "Very lucky."

The rest of the stroll to the shuttle was silent. John went into the shuttle then exited shaking his head. Smith went to the entrance of the shuttle then faced the professor. There was so much apologies that he wanted to make. Leading them was never on the table. All he wanted was not to lead them down this path but they had regardless went down the road and into the dark forest. Smith wheeled himself forward coming to the pilot's chair. He lifted himself out of the wheelchair then into the seat. John walked away from behind him speeding away from the shuttle.

The shuttle lifted into the air then flew up toward the starship. The starship was quite long and wide to his eyes. Different compared to the Proteus in all respects. It reminded Smith of a long piece of cake with buildings on the top and hundreds of lights decorating its figure. There were at least five rows of lights from the lower half and at least three rows of lights on the stations on the top glowing against the darkness. It was eerie walking willingly into doom on a space mission. It had a long tip at the front in the shape of what reminded Smith of the entrance bay the other Jupiter 2 escaped through fleeing from the space spiders.

It lacked a ring, a large hydroponics core, and a thin band that had the primary engines located at the back. And yet, Smith could feel that something was very wrong about the image of a triangle starship. Something was there when it shouldn't be just like him. Or a lot of somethings that didn't belong. The shuttle went toward the entrance then flew on through the long entrance bay until it came to a stop at the entrance bay. With a line of code typed on to the console and his seatbelt was unbuckled. The shuttle lowered down then he lifted himself into the wheelchair and flew out of the shuttle. He whirred around then returned by the side of it taking off the cloak and putting it aside to the floor.

Smith lifted himself up then grabbed hold on to the edge of the shuttle. Something felt like it were stuck in his throat. He reached his hand into his mouth then felt around for the strange addition that had been bothering him during the trip. He leaned forwards, his legs feeling funny and readjusted as they took on a new alien position that hurt at first. The sting coming from his legs stopped as he used a free hand to balance himself up to his feet. He took his hand out of his mouth feeling along his teeth. Something was stuck deep in his mouth somewhere further along the air tube and the tube leading down to the stomach.

He walked away from the shuttle coming closer toward the doorway. The guards arrived to the scene no less than two minutes after his unexpected arrival and aimed their weapons at him. From behind him, the shuttle craft was destroyed in a blaze of fire and the shuttle craft beside it exploded. The officers stepped back with a tremble. The fire roared from behind the man. Smith held up his hands in surrender. The officers exchanged a glance then warily took a step forward. They regained their confidence to the point that they stood by his side then escorted Smith with considerate force down the hall. The Kavalarian officers ignored his odd legs bringing him into a dark room with black screens strewn by green lines of code flickering on and off in between bar codes around diagrams.

A figure turned away from the screen as he was forced to his knees with difficulty. He yelped, pained, after being shoved hard to the floor. His legs refused to move in the position that was once a possibility. He can feel their large hands on his shoulders. A bright purple light momentarily blinded his eyes erupting from the darkness. His eyes adjusted to the dark making out the shape of a Kavalarian's head and body armor that stood out more than other alien species did in this universe. Something that stood out as another red flag. A admirable red flag in all its detail. Sharp, pointy and very gothic appealing.

The other Penny would have loved this. It was the first thought that came to mind. He felt cold metal brush against his neck and the red light went across from the side of his face as the Kavalarians stood upright staring at each other in the dark. He can sense the confusion lingering in the air from the unexpected discovery. It was dark compared to the well lit halls that were decorated in lamps radiating orange. They resembled torches with metal casing from around them as though appealing to a different era set in fantasy. The Kavalarians were all looking back to the medieval past. Could be they are currently living it with highly advanced technology in the age of swords and horses. Technology that was out of place in the optimistic universe.

"The Earth man already has a code,"

Smith closed his eyes, wincing, his mind focusing on the pain coming from his hip sockets.

"Scan him," Tsew said.

A officer reached forward then performed the scan.

"Scan complete," Came a matter of fact strange voice.

The officer turned toward Tsew.

"What is it?"

The officer looked down toward the scanner.

"It won't do it,"

Tsew rolled his eyes.

"Scan it, again,"

The officer turned back toward Smith.

"Yes, sir,"

The next scan burned Smith's neck unlike the initial.

"Scan complete, successfully," came the voice. "Person is in registry."

Tsew looked down toward the Earth man.

"Take the Earth man to interrogation," Tsew said. "Harsh interrogation." the others looked up toward Tsew.

"But sir, that is only for times of war,"

"This man didn't just board our ship alone," Tsew turned toward the junior neck scanner glaring them down. "Just to hitchhike." The words came out harshly in a demeaning tone.

"Yes, sir,"

"Take him away, officers," Tsew said.

Smith raised his head up, looking up squinting in the direction that Tsew's voice came from.

Why did his voice sound so familiar?

Smith squinted at the figure cloaked by the dark. He was forced up to his feet then turned around and dragged away from Tsew. It was difficult to get up to his feet during the long walk from one part of the ship to another with two officers trying to make sure that he remained in custody without being apart. His legs gave up the fight in getting back to his feet. Just to stand any further with a body that wasn't quite ready. The thought of being tortured just to save the two members of the crew was a sacrifice that Smith found himself dreading by each passing second.

The doors opened before Smith leading into the torture room that had several types of equipment laid around. There was what appeared to be a electric chair, a steel bed of spikes, a tall spear with dried blood, and a humanoid brown dome that resembled a Russian doll that had bars in the placement of eyes. The horrors left before him made his skin crawl and feel genuine terror.

Whatever his presence had done on the matter of being here wasn't just impacted by his touch but his very presence was warping the light into a dark landscape that villains left for their victims to be hurled through. His eyes wandered off from the assortment of torture devices toward one in particular that was resting across from him under the bright white light.

"You are going on the rack,"

"The what?" Smith asked.

"It will make you taller," was replied with a smirk.

His eyes grew big in horror.

"Spare me! Spare me!" Smith was dragged toward the rack as he struggled against the aliens turning his attention toward them. "I am a desperate and lost traveler seeking a ride!"

"We are all lost travelers, Earth man." was retorted to him in response.

Smith was guided over to the rack then helped on to the board. His boots were yanked off without prompt. Smith was first to notice that he did not have any toes. His feet looked very wrong. There were no toenails. Neither could Smith feel his feet as he tried to point them up much to his horror. Something was wrong. Something had gone terribly gone. Something had changed during the escort to the interrogation. The nightmare he had weeks ago came back in his mind.

He was changing rapidly. And there was nothing that he could do to stop the events that were to be set in place. Events that he had participated in. But it was being done for the sake of rescue. Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear! It wasn't good news. Yet, Smith could still feel his ankles were attached to something. Very hard thick sharp cords were wrapped around his ankles that were shifted under a bar even his wrists as his arms were raised above his head fasted against the bar. The long cord connected to his ankles went down to the rolling pin.

"Who helped you aboard?" it had to be the interrogator.

"I did," Smith said.

"That shuttle went out with highly trained professionals," the interrogator said. "One man can't take them all down."

"But I did," Smith said. "They were so easy to eliminate. Say the right things and the problem took care of itself."

The interrogator glared back, irritably.

"Stretch the earth man," the Kavalarian growled.

One of the the Kavalarians moved the wooden pole from beneath him and tugged at his leg tightly. His terror faded as the pain from his back was slipping away by each tug. The Kavalarians kept tugging and tugging all the while taking the kinks out of his back. Then the lights in the room turned off abruptly and the cords grew loose on his wrists. His back felt better than it had in months. His back felt good. Just the way it had been when he went into space. He threw his head back then began to loudly laugh that grew in intensity and tone. It sounded of evil than of a good laugh by the way it made Kavalarians pause what they were doing staring what they had done.

There was a certain victory in bring free of pain for the first time in months. The true pain of the transformation was over with. There were times that being himself was so good just to be evil on purpose. This was beginning to appear one of those moments in time that Smith liked being who he was and what he was. He had all the power in the ship. Smith yanked his arms off the rack, tore off the rope from his wrist, then silently stood up on the top of the rack looking down upon the short humanoids looking up toward him in horror. His feet balanced on the long pillars of the rack.

"You should have spared yourselves, gentlemen." Then, Smith lunged toward them and dispatched the officers amid a lone blue phaser shot.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

Don paced back and forth in the cell. His hands linked behind his back with his eyes peering out the bars searchingly for a opening to make their escape. Judy was across from him in another seat fiddling with the ring on her ring finger gaining doubt by the passing minute. Will was laid on a separate bed across from the couple in a different cell recovering from the phaser burn on the side of his head.

"Urgh. . ." Will leaned halfway up from the bed then began to look from side to side. "Doctor Smith? Robot?""

"Will, we're right here!" Judy said.

Will turned his attention directly toward the source of Judy's voice.

"Judy?" Will covered his forehead then looked on toward the source of her voice. "Are you and Don okay? What about the others?"

"We're okay," Judy said. "They didn't get caught."

"Will, how are you feeling?" Don asked.

"Head is sore," Will touched his wound leaning up from the cot. "Ah." He got up then balanced himself against the wall of the cell. "What happened?"

"They over powered us," Don said. "They got the Robot back in one of their labs. Where, I am not entirely sure."

"How long have I been out?" Will asked.

"About two hours," Don said. "Did you get that from them?"

"No," Will said. "I got it from Doctor Smith. He tossed me into a tunnel. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Smith threw you?" Don asked, raising his brows. "Like full on grabbed you, tossed you, like a doll?"

"Like a rock more like it," Will said. "Something is wrong with his hips. Really wrong. He wasn't able to walk right," he grew worried. "They could be torturing him."

"If they were," Judy began. "We would have heard him scream. He is perfectly fine. Better than we are."

"One thing about Smith doesn't change," Don paced back and forth. "How easily he hides when trouble comes knocking!"

Don smacked his hand into his fist. Just as his hand smacked into his palm, the lights went out and it was pitch black. Shouts of surprise, fear, and confusion echoed through the chamber. Rounds of laser fire stretched out before Don's eyes then he stepped back to Judy's side taking her hand. Kavalarians sped through the halls screaming, shouting, and barking orders. Each cell door propped open letting out the imprisoned aliens that fled out.

"That is our rescue mission!" Don said. "I like to get my hands on that chief of security Tsew! Calling me a hot shot? That I am not."

"Not by a long shot," Judy agreed.

The passage way between the cells paused as all the other officers were fleeing on screaming from the top of their lungs.

"Escape! Escape! Escape!" A member of the Kavalarians shrieked waving their hand in the air. "We have a exotic bioweapon on this ship! Escape! Escape! Escape! Bioweapon, everyone, get out of here! Ignore the escaping prisoners! GET OUT OF -"

A Kavalarian shot down the officer then went forward resuming the running. It wasn't a moment later that the Kavalarian was shot down then the professor came out of the dark as the lights flickered above his head scanning the room from side to side. He opened Will's door then Don and Judy joined him.

"Where is the robot?" John asked.

"They got them in one of their labs," Don said. "I am not sure where he was taken."

"Don, get him," John said. "We can't leave without that vital piece of equipment. We will meet you at deck five. We are on deck ten."

"The belly of the ship," Judy took Don's hand then squeezed. "Don. . . Be careful."

"I will be extra careful," Don said. "How did the power go off?"

"Smith," John said. "He is somewhere around here and doing just what he does best at. Terrorizing people."

"Being a terrorist," Don said. "Really fits him. Go," Don let go of her hand sending it back. "I will meet you back at the space pod."

"You better," Judy said.

"Dad, I like t-" Will said.

"No, son," John said. "No buts about it. This way!"

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Smith was silently stalking the halls in the form of a illusion that couldn't be seen. He had sent the prison guards fleeing for their lives and just, just once, he had lowered his illusion as a whole to be seen. Five officers were standing across from him. Only three ran away and the other two fired back at him. Their loud announcements rang through the halls. Smith was focused on ripping out the panels and tossing them aside. Any panel that could restore power was one that could bring light to the escape.

Some were sabotaged and left intact on each level of the ship to take out the most advanced pieces of Kavalarian technology or knock them down should the escape be thwarted. New pain rang from his waist once lowering his illusion as the klaxons wailed repeatedly. He turned to face the attacker then loudly hissed. The attack stood before him quite shocked and startled.

Smith smacked the attacker knocking them down to the ground with the back of their head hitting a beam and landing to the ground. His hand traveled to the area behind his ear then yanked out a internet port connector and dropped it to the ground. He fell against the wall then slouched closing his eyes crouching over feeling the fresh and new pain wash over him. He looked up to see a Kavalarian look upon him then aim at him. A long trail of blue electricity struck them down.

"Danger has been neutralized," Robot said.

"Go to deck five," Smith said. "Now! The others will be waiting for you."

"We all go or not at all,"

Smith lifted himself up against the wall then squeezed his eyes shut.

"How chivalrous of you," Smith said. "Cover them before you can't make it on time. I have little time left," he lifted his hand up seeing the blood on the tips of his fingers then covered the wound up. "As a Smith." He closed his eyes, painfully, as it occurred to him. "Robot, your orders are to help the Robinsons. Not I! Do as I order. They need a battle ready machine not a organic monster!"

Robot twirled then silently went on ahead of Smith. Smith relaxed against the ground, regaining his bearings, regaining his state of mind, feeling a lush of hunger stirring in his belly. The wound out stung the agony bearing in his bones and muscles and nerves protesting against the change. A change that he did not want to be part of. He laid there paralyzed by the pain that had undoubtedly damaged a kidney and bleeding out. A human kind of reaction when a monster would ignore it.

He forced himself up to his feet. The Robinsons need all the help that they can get to come out of this in one piece. Not in pieces. The other members of the Robinsons had to be behind Robot. Notably Don of all people. Someone that he highly respected and liked enough to call a friend despite the antagonist relationship they shared. He was the West that Smith never had gotten lost with. Someone most preferable. Childish, a little. But someone who didn't allow hate to cloud his judgement.

"Smith!"

Smith struggled the long walk forward despite the aching in his arms. The pain. The agony. The request to be released and the pressure against his bones were screaming to be relieved. The pipes broke apart and smoke fell down from above clouding his visual. Smith came near the edge of the corner looking on. He froze, grasping on the wall, anticipating the lone shot. A shot whizzed by and a body collapsed behind him. He looked over spotting the Kavalarian on the ground. He turned in the direction of the shot then Don came out of the smoke into the red light of the klaxon.

"Oh good, major," Smith smiled. "Just the person I liked to see."

"Smith, you're hurt," Don said. "Why aren't you leaving? You're no position to be carrying your part out."

"It is a graze," Smith said.

Don glared back at the older man incredulously.

"If it were a graze, you wouldn't be cupping your wound at all," Don said.

"Major, catch up with your girlfriend!" Smith snapped back then closed his eyes leaning against the wall. "I can manage it on my own."

"You can't walk with a injury like that," Don said. "I am not leaving you behind."

"Don't make this difficult for yourself," Smith said, opening his pained blue eyes.

"What is the difficulty?" Don asked, ducking behind the wall then looked over toward Smith. "There is nothing that makes this difficult. Lean on me."

"Judith needs you," Smith shook his head. "She doesn't need a halfway mutated man making her fiance collapse and be unable to leave because of the exhausting weight."

"You're not halfway mutated," Don frowned. "Don't look like it!"

With that, the illusion was lowered as Smith lifted up to his feet. Smith tore off his sleeves with his left hand then discarded the clothing to the floor pressing a hand against his injury. Smith turned toward Don as his arms split into two. He was taller than Don averaging at six foot nine that made Don seem like a dwarf. Don was frozen where he crouched alongside the wall as his eyes attention was lifted up toward hm.

Smith was a giant compared to the man nearly ranging to seven feet tall. Don's face slowly changed into shock mixed in with 'damn' and horror. A bridge of understanding began to form between the two men. The fear that Smith held toward Spider Smith made complete sense. The saboteur crouched over toward the ground then ripped two phasers from the lifeless hands belonging to fallen security teams and lifted himself up looking toward the major very grimly.

"Do I," Smith was nonchalant. "Now?"

"Yes, you do," Don said, as he saw the man's secondary set of arms were a shade of orange skin contrasting against the purple-gray armor.

"Go," Smith said. "I'll be right behind you."

"Don't be a hero and sacrifice yourself," Don said.

Smith had a long but incredulous look toward Don as he tilted his head.

"You know what I am, Major," Smith said.

"Now, I am not entirely sure," Don said.

"A spider, the unsinkable cockroach, a insect that will always be around. I am not the kind of being who makes a self-sacrifice," Smith glared back at the man. "I am a villain in someones story even if someone else sees me as the hero. I am not sure what made you think I am the hero. Heroes die in a blaze of glory and young. " Smith said. "Villains never die. They get to grow old and change form." he placed a hand on the major's shoulder, lightly, genuinely. "Be what Zachary knew you as."

"What are you planning?" Don asked.

"A demonstration of what can happen if someone crosses paths with you," Smith said.

"I don't suppose you're planning for a back massage this afternoon," Don said.

Smith tilted his head sideways raising his right brow up.

"Oh, what are you planning this fine evening?" Smith asked, casually but sarcastically. "Yoga?"

"Actually-" Don started.

Smith shoved Don away from him down toward the floor across then his set of arms extended firing back at the blasts ducking out of view that had restarted. Don scrambled to his feet as the man covered him, on the wall from across, ducking in and out of view.

Smith climbed the wall fast with speed that belonged to a insect heading into the heavy dog blocking view of what was going on. A yelp and a scream was the only sound that he heard in return. Out of the fog came a flying phaser pistol. Something hit his boot so Don looked down and spotted the phaser pistol. When he looked up, Smith was handing out a cartridge toward him.

"Earth man are incredibly fragile during a gun fight when they are overwhelmed," Smith said. "Promise me that you will join the others."

"I can't keep that promise,"

"Major West, you are not expendable with I around," Smith said. "That is I." He shook the weapon once nothing came out with a mumbled swear. "It used to be you and him expendable," he slid out the old cartridge out of the phaser pistol then pressed his hand against the man's chest sending him out of the line of fire pressing him carefully against the wall. "Living bioweapons are expendable."

"If we're being honest with each other: you're not a bioweapon to us." Don said. "You're a hybrid. A really messed up but interesting one."

Smith was holding on to phaser recharging it with a new cartridge with his back to the wall visibly in a rush and the old cartridge flew past Don's face.

"I and Robot will cover you," Smith said. "Go!"

Don nodded then ran from the scene.

Phaser blasts were firing at Smith's direction only instead they were stopped by several blasts in return. Smith stepped in the way firing on the security teams. He walked forward watching them fall one by one making his way on. He had been merciless before on the field and this was simply a massacre to protect the ones that he cared about. A justified yet cruel attack.

Smith slipped to his side as a blue energy wave crashed throughout the ship. He propped himself up taking another turn to the left. Silence hung in the air. He looked around spotting the figures to several Kavalarians laid on the floor. He scrambled up to his aching feet then used the wall as his support up to his feet. His hips ache renewed. He came over to the corner of the hallway then slid out a radio device and pressed on a large button.

"Smith to Professor Robinson, over," Smith replied. "Have you joined with the space pod?"

"We need another distraction!" John said. "Roger."

"What more else do you want, over." Smith asked. "That virus is doing all it can."

"We need something big, Smith." then John emphasized. "Very big! Over."

Smith lowered the radio as he placed his secondary left hand onto his stomach then raised the radio with a sigh and closed his eyes as if knowing the next question.

"Just how big," Smith said. "Over."

"Big enough to send a squad running," John said. "I am running low on fuel for the laser pistol. Over."

A small spider slipped out from underneath the shirt collar, crawled up his chest, down his shoulder, then crept onto his hand. It seemed pink and gray at the same time looking at him with innocence. Different from being translucent to his eyes. Half human, half alien spider. Smith closed his eyes then raised his head up killing the spider with a squeeze.

He paused for mere seconds. Precious seconds that could be spent for another purpose. Seconds that were spent debating about using his unfortunate predicament that was continuing to make him a alien in all respects. What little of his Earthling half was remaining was still in control. The decision was easier to make than initially believed.

"On my way," Smith said. "What level? Over."

"Level 5!" John shouted. "Hurry! Over."

The line went dead on the other end.

"So much for not taking the big gun out," Smith said. "Roger that."

Smith put the device away into his vest pocket then sped his way down the hall to meet his fate.

//////////////////////////////////////

Smith walked through the night looked from side to side. It was dark and dreary. Little hoots belonging to owls echoed in the night. A soothing sound that was capable of bringing a person down to the ground. He looked from side to side then walked through the darkness. He looked form side to side scanning the titles on the signs hooked int the wall. Smith had a feeling that he were being watched. He turned around then leaped and extended his arms out yelling, "Ha!"

There was no one there.

Smith shook his head.

"Paranoia, Zachary," Smith rubbed the back of his head. "Just like the millennial war."

Smith turned away from the direction that he had been initially going in. He tapped his fingers looking from side to side until coming toward a very messy and had figures lurking around dressed in colorful but inappropriate clothing. He went under a balcony then went into the alleyway strolling toward the dark door at the bottom. He opened it up then strolled into the main facility. A wind of cold bitter air flew into his face sending chills down his skin. He walked inside surveying the contents of the room. Aliens of different species in the building were speaking with medical professional dressed in white lab coats and some dressed in strange outfits that screamed of medicine.

Smith went toward a tall machine then typed on to the keyboard. The keyboard was outlined in each letter by bright purple. A blue card appeared from the machine then he went over toward a chair and sat down on to it. Smith carefully lifted up his lower section then slipped it through the large space beneath the back rest and had his back off the chair then leaned forward with his hands clasped on to his knees looking off quite bored. Waiting patiently for his name to be called.

His eyes briefly shut and close. Ready to flutter close in the waiting room. He was jolted awake with a startle then looked both ways. It was quite difficult to relax in the room. His mind sensed that he was being followed and being watched. He looked around searching for the preying eyes. Once made sure that people had their eyes on else where, Smith visibly relaxed in his chair but took on the hunched over figure tapping his fingers together. His heavy eyes began to close and darkness enveloped him.

Will and Robot arrived into the traveling hospital to find the older man slouched in the chair with notable differences in his features. Will stood by the doorway shocked at the creature, that once was completely human, resting in the chair, snoring away while hunched over. His clothing was a pitch black two piece outfit contrasted by the colorful vest that he had entered their lives in. His shoulders lowered and raised in a rhythm that only a Smith counterpart would have. His hunched figure stayed off the back rest by five obvious inches.

Will took a step forward into the hospital with Robot lagging behind him. His skin taken over by the armor like appearance that had been part of his alternate self. It was worse than how the Dragonian empire had tried changing the older Smith, giving him pointy ears, blue skin, and a cap that covered most of his hair-but it was less drastic and painful to the older man.

"Doctor Smith," Will started, softly, approaching the chair. "This isn't the place to help you!"

Smith's eyes flipped open, the hair on his skin rising, then slowly looked over to see Will in his orange PJ's standing beside Robot. Will saw . Saw what Smith really looked like.

"This is quite the place to do the dirty deed when it comes to my liking," Smith said. "You should be back in bed fast asleep."

"You should be sleeping in the bed that was made for your specific liking," Will said. "Not in a chair."

"This is a cheap shop," Robot replied. "It does not have great reviews."

"It's the best one that I can afford," Smith stood up to his feet. "And one I can live with."

"I don't think you can live with your body being butchered," Will said.

"I am getting myself corrected," Smith said, sharply. "The way I want to be."

"By surgeons," Will said. "Not by people who have a idea how to operate on your physiology."

Carefully, and tiredly, Smith put his hand on to the boy's shoulder.

"When I came here to your universe, I had no hope." Smith said. "Now, I do. I appreciate your concerns and-" Smith glared toward Robot then his face changed from a glare to one of ease shifting down on toward the boy with appreciation. "worry, but it will be fine."

"Hope doesn't mean taking the wrong way to the sun light," Will shook his head. "Hope means taking the right way for you that is beneficial. This isn't. It won't work."

"This is my light, William," Smith said. "I can be proud of it because I fought against it and drew lines. Lines that I wouldn't have drawn in the. . ."

"Dark universe," Will offered.

"If I want to be a hybrid that is a gentlemen then I must set up my trenches and arm my fort with all that is in my arsenal until the very last moment," Smith continued. "Isn't that what a gentlemen is? Or a soldier? Or a warrior? Or a scientist," Will looked off giving it some thought. "All those people take paths I take to become who they are and what they are but it all means something to them in the long run. A mistake, redemption, or a lifesaving act."

"Zachary Smith, we have a operation room available for you,"

Smith began to turn away from Will.

"Doctor Smith, don't!" Will stopped Smith. "I got a very bad feeling about this." Smith looked down upon the boy, alarmed, but startled. "Very bad. You are going to regret doing this. But it won't be a mistake, it won't be redemption, and it won't save you. It could disable you from walking."

Smith turned away from Will, closing his eyes, reconciling over the child's intuition, then turned toward the robot.

"I can't walk away from this operation, William." Smith said, softly. "I am sure he would have felt the same. The risk is acceptable." He looked up toward Robot. "Take the child back to the Jupiter 2."

Smith turned away from Will.

"Doctor Smith!" Will cried, as Robot grabbed the boy by the shoulder stopping him from going after the older man. "There is a better way of going about this!"

Smith stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes if only briefly, sighed, then turned toward Will.

"Name one way," Smith appeared to be tired. Tired of everything that he had been through and was currently going through. "Name one that your family can afford. One that doesn't mean any more sacrifice and pain than what you have been put through in the last three years."

There was silence from Will then Smith shook his head as he began to slowly turn away.

"I figured that much," Smith said, bitterly.

There isn't. . . There isn't. . . My boy. Softly replied a voice that wasn't there from beside Will as Smith walked through the doorway.

/////////////////////////////////

The sound of laser pistol blasts being exchanged was loud and clear. They even sounded by baby crocodiles chirping on repeat. Smith looked over then saw Judy being shielded by John against the wall. He kicked off his boots sending them to the both sides of the hallway. The new found freedom allowed the growing thorn on each foot to spread out, sharply, and shining into the mist.

His thorn toes clicked against the floor. Small rounded metal additions ripped out from his knees trailing up along the side of his thigh to his waist. Smith yanked off two of his left hand fingers leaving a fresh flat surface behind on the hand. Smith turned his attention up toward the army of humanoid officers looking into the mist with their phasers held up.

"No need to fear!" Smith stepped forward in the direction of the officers as the firing stopped. Some of the officers began to slowly look up, some horrified, some calm, and some seemed as though they were looking at a demonic monster that was disgusting. A sinister grin spread on his face. "Smith is here."

Smith turned his back to John changing his attention toward the security team and raised the numerous phasers up.

"I have a lot of pieces to share, gentlemen." Smith said. "Would you like a civil discussion or be eaten alive?"

In response was laser firing. Pieces of equipment fell down to the ground and klaxons shattered during their wails. Smoke came out of the long pipes settling into the area. The klaxon's were wailing quite loudly as a tall figure lifted into the clouds. With that cloak masking the figure fell down to the floor with a silent and muffled thud. The figure walked through the red lighting echoing in the room among the smoke. The next moment tiny bright balls fell down from below the quite alien spider's abdomen filling up the large space in the wall with the sounds of several marbles landing to the ground with a clatter.

The officers from across Smith were unable to move frozen by terror. The terror enough had caused their firing to come down to a standstill with the introduction of the new comer. The phasers lowered from his head toward the mountain of white mass that seemed to stir. The officers kept their position. The alien hybrid spider stepped back with a wiggle knocking one of the last of hundreds if not thousands of eggs to the pile. There was a short moment of silence as the officers aimed their weapons toward the large pile. Little spiders hatched out of the eggs then began to make their climb down after the Kavalarians.

"Charlotte is not in the mood to make spider webs,"

The look of horror growing on the security team's faces was something not easy to forget. A few of the officers started firing as the sea of spiders fled toward them.

"I recommend you get going, Professor," Smith said. "There is only so much you can do before the monster's minions revolt against the summoner."

Smith walked on toward the officers through the smoke standing up erect while wrapping his wound up tightly with his torn uniform. Judy looked over with horror in her eyes at the tall and unfamiliar figure. She covered her mouth, terrified, stepping back against the wall. John turned in the source of what terrified his daughter then he, too, grew alarmed. John took Judy's hand then fled the area resuming on the well planned path that left Smith in the middle of the destructive scene.

His secondary set of hands were linked behind his back while his other held on to the phasers looking around the area searching for survivors. He can see through the eyes of his children- his minions- feeling their thoughts through his very being as they ate and feasted on the flesh. Chills went down his skin at the thought of it. His stomach reveled in it. He closed his eyes licking his lips with a smile. There was a ache coming from his neck that was throbbing painfully distracting from the carnage that was unfolding all around him.

Smith followed after the spiders and picked up the phasers. He destroyed the spiders that began to walk past him with all four arms. He slipped the guns into his lower two hands then placed his fingers under his chin and lifted his head up with a pop sliding it up. Further and further it went until it could not go any further. A surge of relief crashed over his mind. A pleased smile and a light head were what he got in return. He cracked his knuckles with another satisfying pop.

A pop that he had once enjoyed. Suddenly, abruptly, he was struck by a image from his nightmares. A four legged humanoid creature with four arms and skin that reminded him of armor. There were screams all around as he sent more of the creatures down the way of the surviving officers. He fired the phasers in the direction of those who were hiding from his line of sight keeping a good cover over the space spiders. The crew were holed up in the upper deck that a piece of the cieling missing showing another deck from above their heads.

Tsew fell to the floor with a thud then Smith slowly approached the fallen officer.

"You really should have thought this through, you mindless plankton," Smith said. "You have no intelligence to offer to your offspring."

Smith lifted the groaning figure up then smacked them against the wall and sent them falling down to the floor.

"S. . . S. . . Smith?" came a familiar voice from Tsew.

"Yes?" Smith tilted his head studying the silent horrified man.

Smith looked down toward the source of the voice to see a very well aged version West that he had known.

How does he know my name?

Tsew appeared at least nineteen years older than what West had been. The look alike, Tsew, wore horror. Genuine, pure horror. Then there was disgust that took over the horror and all too familiar anger that he had been the brunt of. It all felt to have happened a very long time ago. Being thrown into the air lock by West after a certain pirate had framed him. If it wasn't for one of the Robinsons convincing West to let Smith stay overnight then he wouldn't have been here. That was his third near-death experience being in the company of the Robinsons.

Smith stepped forward preparing to aim the gun at Tsew's face in the mist of their shock.

Tsew ducked missing the blast.

Smith's lower hands pressed on the trigger to the guns tailing after the man. Making a clear path for the Robinsons escape was a very easy task. Only one person could go through the weak barrier and that person was him. West would never go after him after it became clear that there was no cure to his demise. It could not have been the major. Why bother going into this pure and loving universe after Smith had?

I will kill every officer aboard this ship, Smith thought, The Robinsons should leave without a hitch.

Maureen, Will, and Penny were manning the Jupiter from above safe and sound. The Space Pod hooked into a port that wasn't visibly seen from outside of the ship. Just as how the plan had been dictated in the meeting after the arrangement had been made. It was going to be fine. It was going to be okay. It was a strange feeling in his mind that it wasn't going to be exceptionally bitter. Not as the last plan that he had been part of under someone else's money.

Get in then get out.

Just as he had to.

This time had no room for being trapped aboard the ship to its gruesome demise.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

Robot stood guard in front of the hallway that had been designated as the escape route.

"Robot!" John's voice was carried down the hall.

"I will cover your six, Professor Robinson!" Robot announced wheeling down the hall.

Judy was covering her head as she ran from beside her father heading down the hallway. Robot knocked several of the officers to the ground with a extended but powerful charge. Robot wheeled backwards following after the Robinsons continuing his firing. Blue bands of electricity contrasted against the darkness of the ships interior and smoke was traveling down the hall.

"We got smaller fish to kill," shouted a Kavalarian. "Retreat! Retreat!"

The officers fled leaving the pathway that was taken by the Robinsons and Robot stopped in his tracks scanning for any further lifeforms coming near. John and Judy boarded the space pod. Maureen and Penny lowered their armed laser pistols then gathered around Judy as John closed the door from behind him.

Judy hugged Maureen and Penny joined in the group hug. Don piloted the space pod away from the ship. The Robinsons grew relaxed in the calmness that overtook the space pod but Penny looked around the chamber searchingly.

"Mother, Father," Penny started. "Where is Will? And Robot?"

John turned his attention toward the closed door then grew horrified.

"John to Smith, John to Smith, can you read me? John to Smith!"

Smith staggered into sick bay and the doors closed behind him. He was visibly in pain even wounded to a point from the combat mission. He grasped onto a pipe standing out against the wall leaning forward and balanced himself up to his feet looking down toward the floor.

The small metal tapping from the spider legs were heard through out the room. Smith slid down to the floor then turned his back against the wall. I want to be me. He grasped onto his leg then shoved it down with sharp jolt of pain fleeing through. There was shouting coming over the radio belonging to the professor.

"John to Smith, John to Smith, can you read me? John to Smith!"

He lifted up a small radio device from his shoulder strap.

"Roger. Smith here." Smith said. "Don't shout. I can hear you loud and clear. What is the report?"

"We made it out," John said. "But Will left the space pod during the commotion." Smith yanked himself up to his feet with his lower legs then forced his knees into shape with a loud satisfying pop. "Over."

Smith collapsed near a biobed that had a body on it.

"Roger," Smith lowered the device, hissing in pain, then raised it back up over the sound of static. "I presume this must mean you want me to find a escape pod and get them into it."

"Affirmative," John said. "Over."

Smith looked over toward the left where he saw a deceased Kavalarian lay on it being feasted on by the baby spiders.

"I can do that," Smith said. "Over."

"Smith. . . How far along are you? Over."

In disgust, Smith got himself up then flung over toward the nearest biobed lacking a corpse.

"Not far. Over."

A simple reassuring lie.

"How far," John's voice came over. "Over."

More irritating than his counterpart when it came to a matter as this. It was more irritating because this John cared. It was still strange to be nagged by someone calling themselves Professor Robinson. The revelation gave the doctor some pause over the matter. Contrasting the other John who didn't ask about how the back was going along only letting his wife be concerned about it.

The only thing that the other John cared about was how they got to Alpha Prime A and think about Smith's predicament later. This John cared about both simultaneously. It was a wonder why the professor had yet to get any gray hair. From the right side of his head behind the professor's ear, Smith noticed that he had a quite odd balding spot.

"I am fine, professor," Smith assured. "Over."

Lies were the only thing that he could offer.

"Robot and Will are searching for you," and he was trembling more than he had before in his life. "Over and out."

Smith crushed his makeshift radio device then dropped it to the floor.

Into the shadows to face my demons I go. . . Smith thought. Leaving behind the husk that walked in the light.

Smith spotted the baby space spiders quietly eating away at the still corpses laid about the sick bay. It was quite off putting bringing memories back to the surface from his time in the war. Smith picked up the phaser then shot all of them down. Every time there was a blast that struck them down, there was a high pitch pained scream pierced his mind reminding him of a boiling teapot that was screeching.

The shooting was continued until there was splotches of goo decorating the sick bay. Their screeches stood out against the personal agony that he had been forced to endure. His eyes scanned the room for pockets with the flash light on searching for discolorations in the wall. There was none that seemed to be warranted enough to draw his alarm. Smith began to relax.

They were not that developed. As of far. But, the ship had to be destroyed with thousands if not hundreds of spiders lurking in the area capable of hibernating and waiting for the next victim to lurk into the ship. Unwitting victims unprepared for the remainder of their life being hell as a existence of pain, horror, and terror. Hell could be recovered from but this version was unrecoverable from. He knew of various hell that could come back from. This was beyond walking out in one piece.

Smith lowered the phaser down to his side then came over to the left out medical equipment. The equipment was in the highest and intact appearance. He picked up a bag then carefully placed the unknown equipment into the bag. He had last checked the surgical supplies earlier. Earlier that told him they needed new equipment. He spotted a vial then a idea formed in his mind. A simple white lie that would do. A lie that could ease the thoughts of the Robinsons for the time being.

This disaster had came around in the nick of time. Each machine was turned on as he knelt down to a corpse and watched it operate. With that done, it was easy to determine how to best heal his wound. He slid it up to his shoulder then left the scene. He had to find a escape pod and retrieve the two companions. He struggled to walk with how different his body needed to be and wanted to be. His body parts was more capable of being moved and negotiated to his will leaving only agony. A sheer part of the mutation.