The red liquid within the hypodermic needle was injected into Jason's arm, but he kept his eyes tightly closed –he hated needles.

"Listen," the medical ward's doctor was telling him quietly, "But don't react –spy cameras are everywhere in this place."

Jason was surprised but he stayed still and kept his eyes closed even after the doctor had taken the needle out of his arm.

"I'm with the rebel movement," continued the doctor in a low voice, "We're going to free Spectra from Zoltar, and you can help us –our leader is Mala, your mother."

Jason opened his eyes at these words!

He briefly stared up at the light above him, noting with dismay that his vision was blurred.

But he found that he was able to suddenly snap up into a sitting position on the examining table.

The two soldiers who'd brought him into the room hastily brandished their guns at him, but the one facing him said "We're with you –play along with us!" in a piercing whisper.

"You're lucky it's my duty shift," remarked the doctor softly as Jason just sat there, trying to process these bewildering developments, "I didn't give you truth serum."

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Still huddled in the corner of the soldiers' barracks room, Cronus made final adjustments to Jason's wrist communicator as his companion looked on.

But then his companion glanced through a doorway and saw Jason being led down the corridor outside.  He was shuffling awkwardly and the two soldiers escorting him were still holding him upright by keeping the barrels of their guns beneath his armpits.

He tapped Cronus on the shoulder, staying silent, and Cronus looked up just in time to catch a glimpse Jason before he returned his attention to the workings of the wrist communicator.

A moment later, his repairs were complete at last and he closed the small yellow pentagon down over the inner components.

"I'll try a long-range beacon," Cronus whispered, wiping his face with one hand.

He began to press the communicator's surface, "That might get relayed to Earth."

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Far away on Earth, even as Mark still stood near the window of Chief Anderson's office at the Federation headquarters, his wrist communicator began to beep.

"Everyone, I'm picking up an incoming signal!" cried Mark as everyone startled and turned their heads his way.

"From who?" gasped Chief Anderson, and he and the others all rushed over to the window where Mark stood.

"It's a weak signal, just a beacon –no words-" Mark told them as he scrutinized his wrist communicator's display carefully.  Then he looked at them all, adding "But its origin ID is Jason's!"

"Then it could only have been transmitted from Jason's wrist communicator," said Chief Anderson, holding his chin pensively.

"Is signal," burbled Keyop, "Coming from Spectra?"

"Yes," answered Mark, studying his communicator again, "Considering the distance, a beacon is all that would have a chance of getting through."

He turned excitedly towards Chief Anderson.

"Chief, we can track this –it can take us straight to Jason!"

"You do realize, Mark, only the Council can authorize that," said Chief Anderson, still holding his chin.

"But now we won't just be wandering Spectra aimlessly.  I have a set of coordinates, where we know Jason must be –or must have been recently!"

"Find Jason, then try to save Spectra," added Keyop, raising a fist enthusiastically.

 
"You're right, Mark, this changes everything," said the Chief, closing his eyes wearily, "Go –I'll deal with the Council- but be careful."

"We understand," said Mark as he stood with his teammates, all their faces grim and intense.
 

Turning to them, Mark called "Let's go to Spectra!" with a sweep of his arm.

 "G-Force!" they answered, and as one they dashed from the room.

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The Phoenix swept through the Spectran sky –a clear blue, this far north.

Far below were the jagged peaks and deep valleys of the Damruk Mountains.

On the bridge, Mark glanced over at Princess as she studied the radar screens.

"As soon as you've got the beacon's exact coordinates, Tiny will find a place to land."

"Big ten, Mark," she replied, tuning the screen's resolution for the most precise fix possible.

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Cronus, along with his companion-in-infiltration, was still huddled in a corner of the  barracks, and still sending out a long range beacon from Jason's wrist communicator.

What they failed to realize, however, was that they were being observed onscreen, via a spy camera, by two soldiers in another area of the base.

The soldiers exchanged a look of mutual suspicion.

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"Welcome, nephew," said Zoltar as Jason stood before him in the mantle procedure room.  Jason was still propped upright by the two soldiers' gun barrels, but his head was slumped forward and his eyes were closed.

"Did you know," remarked Zoltar conversationally, seated in his throne-like chair, "That Mala was only nineteen when you were born?"

Jason remained silent, not even looking up at Zoltar.

"She spent much time off Spectra in those days," he continued, "Studying abroad, or secluded away here at the university –I never knew she'd been pregnant."

Almost involuntarily, Jason raised his head and opened his eyes.

Answers, answers he so desperately craved.

But his vision of Zoltar was blurred, and he was wracked with nausea.  Sweat trickled down his forehead.

"And then she hid you, as an infant, with her old nanny, and visited you in secret."

Jason blinked, hoping that somehow that would enable him to see straight, but Zoltar remained a shifting red and purple blur.

"Amazing what I've learned from Mala, with my new truth serum –like that Colonel Cronus is your father!"

Jason's eyes widened in utter shock, even as his vision was briefly restored and he stared at Zoltar, lounging in his chair with one leg crossed, his fingers steepled together.

"And you'll truly be amazed at the report I've just received," continued Zoltar smoothly, with a flourish of his arm.

"Cronus is my father?" gasped Jason.

"Yes," said Zoltar, standing up, his tone becoming a shade harsher, "And now he's here, likely for Mala –seems they had a… liaison on Riga, twenty years ago."

But Zoltar was gesturing towards the mantlemeter, where time was continuing to run out.

"I don't have much time, but enough time to finish off him!"

"No," cried Jason, "You can't!" as his face filled with anguish.

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