Annabelle was the one who saw them first. She saw them through her binoculars, she made sure that there was never a time when nobody was on guard even if she had to be that person herself.

The Mamlish had come back. The past week had been unlike anything that she had experienced before. She didn't know whether she like it, but she was sure that she never wanted to go back to how it was before.

The ships were filled of fighting soldiers, men who had been trained from birth to be killing machines, they didn't need a traitorous herbalists to make potions for them because they had something far more reliable. They had training regiments and commanders to prepare them in person for the job of being a killing machine.

She blew on the siren and it wailed like a wolf under the full moon. (Not that she had any idea what a wolf sounded like) Every person who was willing and able started scrambling to come to shell beach. Doubt filled her mind and she realised that it was possible that every person that she had ever known might be dead by tomorrow. But she knew that if they didn't fight now they would be killed anyway in the coming months.

The crowd before her were impatient to attack. "Should we shoot, Ferne', or should we wait until they are nearer to us."

'Annabelle if we can see them, they can see us" said Ferne' in reply and then impatiently added "Just attack"

"That's a good point Ferne', all that study of the Mamlish's ways has paid off. Everybody attack"

"With what?" cried one of the adult volunteers.

"I don't know, did you bring guns? Use that?" said Annabelle.

"On the count of three" said Ferne' taking over the reins. "One, two, three" – the sound of gunshots was loud, but the bullets went flying across the sea. "Duck" cried Ferne'. The row of adult volunteers all ducked simultaneously as they managed to avoid being hit by a returning volley of bullets. "Shoot" he cried again.

The shots, the return shots went on in a similar manner for over an hour. In the meantime, Annabelle went to go find the Madame Green and Veronique. They had set up a makeshift hospital behind the rocks at Shelly beach. Madame Green was dashing around mixing herbs and animal secretions at an almost sonic speed while Veronique was applying them liberally to everybody who walked into the tent.

"What are you doing here" said Madame Green the second she saw Annabelle. "You should be out there leading the people."

"But I'm not worthy" said Annabelle. "I don't have the skills or the training to be a war hero"

"It was never about being worthy" said Madame Green "It was about being able, and if my second potion didn't make you dead, it made you able. Now go back and do your job, you will only get in the way over here"

Annabelle left the tent and went back to Shelly Beach. Scrapping her leg on the way. The thin line of blood, shining brightly against the white clothes that she was wearing. Ferne and the volunteer adults were still shooting, but many of the line had fallen, and the boats were much closer to making land than they had been before she left.

'Annabelle" said Ferne. "We need more bullets, go fetch bullets."

Annabelle picked up the box and started throwing the bullets to each of the adult volunteers. She then realised, that if she timed it right and aim correctly, she could reload the guns for them. She did this five or six times, before she screamed out. "Ferne' I think it's time to fight"

She jumped and hit a kick into the air. "We need a bomb; do we have a bomb."

Every person shook their heads. "We don't even have enough bullets. The Mamlish emptied their armoury before leaving the island and we don't access to gunpowder over here."

"Then we have no choice you will have to shoot me. I can fight them all," said Annabelle.

"Don't be a fool Annabelle" shouted Ferne'. "If we lose you, we lose the war. We are badly outnumbered, we are badly out supplied, we are badly out morale. You must stay with us. You have to lead us"

"We chased the Mamlish away" said Annabelle in a stroke of inspiration – "We've already won once. We can do it again. And you guys, you are the ones who raised me, who made me who we are. There is no need for us to be out morale."

"Great Annabelle, that's the spirit" said Ferne' "Now how do we fight the Mamlish without weapons"

"We hide, and then we steal their weapons when they make landfall I think, or we just joyfully accept out deaths. I can't decide which is nobler."

Annabelle didn't need to decide because all the adult volunteers started to run for cover. Some dug holes in the beach, some hid behind rocks, some went to help at the medicine tent. A few went home.

Vanessa sat on the one side of James; Paul sat on the other. He couldn't believe that this might be the last time that he might see them. He had spent so much time with them in the past year, both physically sitting in the same room and mentally in his head. He watched the screen, the song brought tears to his eyes, even though he had not written it. Maybe he liked the song so much because he had little to do with it, he didn't really know.

Annabelle came onto the screen, and he could tell that Vanessa still felt a little bit uncomfortable whenever she saw herself on screen. Paul on the other hand was loving it. Annabelle went through a range of emotions during the last episode, she started off cocky and confident. She told Madame Green what her place was, but with Veronique being a useful sounding board and Ferne' being so good at making reasonable decisions, she fell into self-doubt. Eventually Annabelle was unable to make a single decision.

It had been a couple of weeks since James had written the work. In fact, he hadn't even been on the set for a month, since it had entered into post-production. So, he had forgotten some of the lines, some of the turns of phrasing. It seemed more seamless than it had in his head. It also seemed to be about him. At first, he had been so sure of the decisions that he made with regards to Annabelle but when others started to point out all the ways she failed as a convincing character he became unable to make any decision.

There was a difference between his stories and hers, she learnt to listen to those around her and eventually she managed to prevent the Mamlish from coming back. But the show was at end, nobody wanted to hear his story anymore.

He saw Vanessa grab the side of her chair as the final came in. He turned and saw Paul watch, his mouth opened slightly. He was completely unaware of James's gaze.

There was a flash of light, and the credits came rolling down. An imagine of Andrew Kortley came onto the screen and his date of birth and date death were displayed. The entire room was crying. There was so much emotion. James was not sure if it was because the crew was remembering Andrew, or if was because everybody was relieved that it was over or maybe, just maybe, they were all proud to be part of the something bigger than themselves.

James was crying too, he didn't know why, but he was happy to be crying, it made him feel more connected to all those around him. They jumped up and he hugged Vanessa.

"Thank you" she said "Thank you for making this all possible"

"No" he replied "Thank you. You did so much more than what you originally signed up for, you landed being a pawn in a politically mine field. I put there and you fought valiantly"

"Oh, I didn't," said Vanessa.

"Paul" he said turning around. "How are you feeling? I see you are crying too"

"I don't know man. But I see why this show gave people hope. I used to be a sceptic. I thought it had fallen off the rails. But you pulled it back and now it is fantastic. I am so sad that it is finished, but I guess that watching people try to manage a badly run country is a bit too close to home for the generally public."

"I guess you can say" said James "And I got burnt enough with the politics of this show to know that I really don't want to attempt that"

"You are a coward James, a coward" said Paul with a good-natured laugh.

"I am braver than I ever thought I was." murmured James. "Thanks for all your passion. It made the show a better show."

"Wow, I didn't think that you ever say anything so nice to me": said Paul.

"It's not nice" said James "Well it is, but that doesn't mean that it isn't true"

He left the viewing room. Two or three members of the media were there. It wasn't as packed as with the launch, but he supposed that the network didn't spend as much money on the finale as they had on the launch.

"Mr Mitchell, that show was breadth taking, how did you manage to keep the show so fresh all the way through."

He launched it his pre-prepared speech, half not aware of what he was saying. He just thanked everybody that he could think of.

"Don't you think that it is sad that the show is coming to an end so soon. Many had hoped that it would run for multiple series."

"Sometimes, a show has got to end. Sometimes, the story is finished. It's just a privilege to tell the story"