The Sontarans were always on the lookout for new blood. Literally. The DNA pool from which all Sontarans were produced would eventually become stale. In order to stay ahead of their enemies, they needed new soldiers with better capabilities.

They would scour through history, searching for proper candidates. They already had some of the best warriors of Earth history in their files. Spartacus, Crixis, Onemaeus and Gannicus' samples had been collected from the blood they had all spilled in the arena of Capua. They had even collected from Batiatus and Ashur for their guile and cunning in the face of enemies.

The Sontarans didn't stumble across these names by accident. One of their chief analysers, Stomvic, had received transmissions of these fights in the arena and was incredibly impressed with their swordsmanship.

Sontarans didn't really understand the concept of television. Stomvic had taken the show 'Spartacus: Blood and Sand' to be a documentary, rather than a re-creation. He was always surprised when the gladiators themselves looked nothing like they did on his console screen.

Another "documentary" that had piqued his interest was 'Xena: Warrior Princess.' To Stomvic, it outlined the adventures of one of the greatest warriors in history. A female human whose courage changed the planet, as the documentary said. Stomvic didn't quite understand what that meant but it sounded impressive. Her genetic material would be precious to any Sontaran sqradron leader. Stomvic quickly packed his gene-splicer into his shuttle and set a course for Earth 147 B.C.

It had been a smooth journey so far, so Stomvic decided to watch another episode of the documentary. He muttered with disappointment. Another Gabrielle story. Stomvic didn't understand how the program could be explicitly called 'Xena: Warrior Princess' and not have the warrior princess in it. He couldn't fathom why a destroyer of nations would let a girl shadow her every move. Was to draw prey, like a sacrificial lamb?

'That must be it,' thought Stomvic.

As Stomvic's ship entered the Solar System, he was so engrossed in the show that he forgot to factor in the asteroid belt between the fourth and fifth planet. The ship hit the belt at 2,183 miles per second causing little damage to the sphere, but completely destroying the ship's rockets.

Stomvic tried desperately to regain control of the vessel, attempting to fire the reverse thrusters. However, the thrusters had be ripped clean off as the ship had passed through the belt.

Now with no rockets or reverse thrusters, the silver sphere span out of control at high speed towards the blue planet, the vacuum of space offering no resistance to its current velocity.

The Gods of old were never big on star-gazing. There was no point in them contemplating higher powers. They were the higher power.

So when a vessel from the stars crashed-landed outside Ares' temple, he just HAD to check it out. It was a silver sphere. Not large, but enough to fit one person.

He teleported down from Mount Olympus to where the ship lay smoldering. It was a bright and sunny morning. Birds were chirping and there was a sweet smell in the air. Artemis was really working her magic today. Nature wasn't really his thing, but Ares had to give his sister props. She did good work. Work that was being ruined by the smoke from the wreckage.

Ares walked around the outside of the silver sphere, trying to find an entrance. As he walked past it, the door to the ship burst open and a hideously deformed creature stepped out. It was a short stocky figure with a dome shaped head. In its hand was a weapon that Ares had never seen before.

Before Ares could remark on the weapon, the creature turned it towards Ares and fired. Ares ducked and jumped to the side quickly throwing a bolt of lightning at the soldier.

The soldier stood stunned for a moment before falling to the ground, dead.

Ares stood up slowly and walked towards the fallen creature.

"Ugh!" he said in disgust.

He turned back to the ship. He cautiously walked to the front door.

"Hello?" Ares called, timidly.

He checked himself. He was the god of WAR.

"HELLO!" he bellowed, this time more manly.

When he received no answer, he stepped inside the ship.

He took one look around and instantly recognised it for what it was. A warship. Weapons, food, medicine. All the bare essentials, no frills.

"My kind of people," he said to himself.

He went over to the control station of the ship. The station was covered in switches and dials. They were all dark and silent.

Ares began searching for the power source of the vessel. It may be a loose connection or something.

"Ah!" he pulled away suddenly, clasping his finger.

He saw blood on the console. He had pricked himself on a protruding needle. This worried him. Gods don't bleed. He leaned over and examined the needle. Its metal looked familiar, similar in texture to the metal of Hephaestus.

Just then there was a noise of something electric behind him. He turned around and saw a booth that lit up and seeming to be filling with a strange fleshy liquid. The form became denser and more defined as ares stared in wonder.

'What in tartarus?" he said.

The glow disappeared and the door opened. The fully formed man stepped out of the both. He was tall, with dark curly hair and handsome rugged features.

A smile spread across Ares' face as he stood there looking at a perfect replica of himself.