Amateur Author

The spaceship “Lady of the Stars” gently set down in the hangar bay of space station Auracar. A little while after it had powered down most of it’s systems, the brandnew, state-of-the-art vessel excreted its passangers by means of a teleportation beam. Jaydon and Emma Octar appeared on the deck. Almost a year had passed since they first met.

Emma looked at her timepiece. ‘We are supposed to meet Nakita in the Luccai Bar in half an hour,’ she said. ‘That darn ion storm certainly knocked our schedule out of wack.’

‘Yeah, I know. I’m just glad we even got here in time. For a minute there, I didn’t think we would make it,’ he concurred.

‘Why don’t I book us a room while you go to the bar. I’ll catch up with you,’ she proposed.

‘Sounds like a plan,’ Jaydon smiled, and gave her a quick but lovingly pech on the mouth. He walked towards to hangar exit, leaving Emma to make the necassary arrangements.

After Emma had booked a nice bedroom for two with a romantic view of the nearby gas giant, and its third and seventh moon, she strolled in the direction of the Luccai bar, where Jaydon would be. In the opposite direction, a man walked towards her. Emma hadn’t forgotten the events just after her `birth`, and was on her guard.

It was an elderly gentleman, with grey – almost white – hair, a beard in the same colour, and retreating hairline. His face had a friendly smile, but she noticed his eyes were weary. ‘Excuse me, miss. I need to speak with you,’ he said as they passed each other.

Emma stopped, and turned around towards him.

He did the same.

‘If you’re looking for a cargo runner…’ she started to say.

‘No, no. It’s not about any cargo. But I need to speak to you in private. It’s important,’ he replied.

His long coat fell open, and she noticed the collor, indicating he was a priest of the House of God. Emma froze for a second. She hadn’t forgotten what the House had done to her orignal, and had tried to do to her. ‘I’m not a big fan of the organisation you work for, father,’ she calmly stated. ‘Who send you? What do you want?’ She took a step back, just to be safe.

The priest grinned. ‘Technically, you send me here to deliver a message. Many many years ago.’

Emma felt as if she was struck by lightning. She send her a message? It was possible; she could see the future, and probably knew that Emma would be here at this particular point in time. Lacking the powers herself though, she wasn’t sure they actually worked like that.

‘She warned me you would be wary. Your name is Emma, isn’t it?’ he probed.

‘She told you that too? But you have to admit the leaders of your church probably all know that, so it’s not really proof, is it?’ She took another step back.

The priest stayed exactly where he was. ‘When you were captured by that cult, the Brotherhood, the man you were with invited you to stay with him. She told me to tell you that if you still weren’t convinced.’

Again, lightning struck Emma. ‘Only Jaydon and I know that. We never talked about that to anyone,’ she gasped.

‘She saw it. She saw it all. And she told me. She told me to meet you here today to relay a message, and answer some questions you have. But not here, in private.’

Emma nodded. ‘My room is just around the corner. We’ll be private enough there,’ she suggested.

‘It will do just fine,’ he replied, and followed her to it.

Once inside, he sat down in a chair, and moaned a little. ‘At my age, my legs tire quickly,’ he explained.

She felt a bit sorry for him. ‘Would you like to have a drink or something?’ she offered.

He politely declined. ‘There is much to discuss.’

She squeezed her lips together from tension and nodded. ‘Please, go ahead.’

The priest leaned forward. ‘I’m father McDougan. I became a priest about fifty years ago, and as all priests back then, part of my initiation was a private meeting with the Lady.’

Emma had tried to get as much information about the last Lady and her life, in hwe quest to understand more about herself in a way, but this she hadn’t learned up to now.

‘It’s a practise kept secret within the House. The idea is that the Lady would know what path to put a priest on. A path best for his career, and most importantly; the House itself. I was a young man at the time, and she was roughly the same age you are now. You look exactly like her, which is no suprise considering your background.’

Emma appreciated that he stayed clear of the word `clone`. Although she was, she always felt it had a `you’re not a real person` ring to it.

‘Later, they told me the Lady rarely had such short talks with initiates. But of course it is a taboe for anyone in the church to ask about anothers conversation with the Lady, or to tell people about it. I was dissapointed in one way, but on the other hand, I was very excited; she told me to go to the Argolanis system for five years and then return to her, exactly five years after setting foot on the fourth planet for the first time. I knew little about such things, but I knew for certain she very rarely asked someone to visit her again later.’

‘And you went?’ Emma asked.

‘Of course!’ the priest stated firmly. ‘I was a young man, my head filled with the idea that working for the House is the same as working for God himself. But you see, on Argolanis IV, at that time, there was a world war going on. The House was present there for humanitarian aid, which we supplied, and I was assigned as personal assistent of the archbishop of Argolanis. The conflict was coming to an end, and only two mighty factions had managed to survive the war; the continent of Zadello and the large country of Pucallas. The Pucallians were powerful, and gaining ground on the Zadellans at an alarming rate. Then the Zadellans sought out an agreement with the archbishop; they would convert to the teachings of the House, dropping their own indigenous heathen beliefs, and asked the House to aid them to convert the rest of the planet. To my astonishment, the archbishop agreed, and made arrangements to supply the Zadellans with better weapons.’

‘That’s horrible,’ Emma wailed, adding another reason to the long list of why she didn’t like the House very much.

‘It was indeed,’ father McDougan agreed. ‘The tide turned and within three years all that did not want to convert were irradicated. I love God with all my heart child, but I do not believe he would ever condone genocide in his name. I can’t believe that. It was then that I realized, the House had strayed from the teachings of God, brought to us by the Great Prophets, and was now nothing more then a mallicious political organisation. It was with this insight I was ready to return to the Lady for my real purpose.’

Emma held her breath. She felt a lump in her stomache, but said nothing and listened intently.

‘The Lady told me the House had been abusing their power for centuries, and that the Ladies before her had played an important part in this. Not that it was their choice; they were all indoctrinated and abused by the leaders of the House. She taken it upon herself to take this power away from those who wielded it so carelessly. She explained me that the power of the Lady was twofold; she not only could see into past, present and future, she could also see the alternatives.’

He paused for a moment, and leaned back in his chair. Emma was at the tip of her seat now.

‘She knew I would now help her accomplish this. She told me I would be the only one within the House that would be aware of her plans, and that I would never betray her. She was right of course. She had started to move certain individuals into certain positions for years, and would continue to do so. She set the board so the House would slowly start to loose most of its power. Getting the Lady out of their hands was pivital for these plans. It was she who nudged a young priest named Nacavilla down a dark path which lead him to the Brotherhood with indepth knowledge of the Lady herself. This is how she arranged her own demise, you see.’

‘… and my creation!’ Emma cried out.

The priest nodded concurring. ‘She told me she felt she deserved a life, and this was the only way to have it. She also must have known you would make it out alive and well, knowing part of your true background.’

‘So she knows what my life will look like! Is that her message? Will I be happy with Jaydon? Will we…’

McDougan laughed, and shook his head. ‘Her message to you is this, she made me memorize it exactly. You now know the truth, or at least the part relavent to you. From beyond the grave, I give you this message. You are a duplicate of me, but also your own person. Your `future flashes` will stay with you until death, this I reveil to you. Trust them above anything else, they will save your life on several occaissions. At birth, I was gifted with the power of foresight. You have been gifted with the power of ignorance. Like all humans, you will not be able to see what will happen within your own lifetime. I envy you, my daughter. Live your life as you see fit knowing from here on, you will make your own choices. Follow your heart, and it will take you to places you never thought you could go.‘

Emma had hidden her mouth behind her hands. Dozens of feelings swirled in her mind, some conflicting with others. A tear rolled down her face.

‘You must tell no one of this. It was for your ears only. Even the man you came aboard with,’ McDougan strongly encouraged her to heed.

Emma nodded. She didn’t like to keep secrets from Jaydon, but she realized the advice came from the Lady herself; she wouldn’t have asked if there wasn’t a good reason for it.

‘It doesn’t mean you can’t trust him at all,’ the priest smiled. ‘It’s just that she wanted this to be known to you. Think not too much of it.’

‘I won’t,’ she vowed.

The priest got up from the chair. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I have done what I came here to do, and have other matters to attend to.’ He smiled at Emma before leaving the room much like a father would smile to his daughter; full of pride and appriciation of they way she was handling her life. ‘Have a good life, child.’ With these words, he left Emma to her thoughts, and made his way to a small shuttle parked somewhere in one of the cargo bays.

It took Emma some time to calm her mind enough to rendezvous with Jaydon in the bar. There was too much to contemplate right now anyway. She realised it would take her many years to give all this information a proper place in her mind, and somehow looked forward to the process.

As she arrived in the bar, she greeted Nakita, and kissed Jaydon.

‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, sensing something was afoot.

‘No, it’s nothing,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Everything is perfect.’

Several thousands of miles from the station, the warpcore of a small shuttlecraft overloaded. Investigation would label it as a pilot error. The pilot had been an old man, in his eighties, who must have pushed a few wrong buttons causing the overload.

‘We’ll be right outside,’ the chief ensured her.

Emma nodded bravely. She was a little scared of this man that stood for everything she had come to loathe in the past week.

‘You did turn off all recording and scanning equipment, didn’t you?’ the monsigneur asked him before closing the door.

‘Audio will be muted, but other then that, we are keeping an eye on things. For both your safety,’ he smiled.

The priest knew it would be futile to ask him to shut everything down. He turned his attention to Emma. ‘Do you know how important you are to us?’ he asked.

‘You’re willing to lie and kill to get me, so I’m guessing you think I’m vital in some way.’

‘The House is your home. It has been for a very long time.’ He tried to look calm and benine, but couldn’t fool Emma.

‘It has never been my home. You know that as well as I do.’

‘Sure it is.’

He took a few steps towards her, she took a few steps back to keep the distance between them the way it was.

‘There’s no need to be afraid. There are millions of people who love you. They’ll be happy to learn you’re alright.’

‘I’m not her,’ Emma stated firmly. ‘I’m Emma.’

‘I know your memory is a little foggy, but in time…’

‘No!,’ she cried out. ‘My memory is fine. I know what happened. The Brotherhood killed her. Then they took her DNA, and they made me. I look like her, I share her DNA, but I am not her!’

‘Sure you are. You are everything she is. Everything we loved, and have missed so much,’ the monsigneur spoke gently.

‘I don’t have her powers.’

‘That’s impossible!’ he said, shocked. ‘You’re just saying that!’

‘No, I am not. I can’t see what she saw. Not even a little. The Brotherhood thought I could, but they were wrong, and so are you!’

‘Lies! Impossible!’

‘No!’ she hollored. ‘If I had them, do you think they would have caught me? That’s why you always grabbed the Lady as soon as she was born. If she would be old enough to speak and interpret her visions, she would know you were coming, and always stay a few steps ahead of you.’

It hit the monsigneur that she was right. It made perfect sense. The Brotherhood would have never caught her, unless she wanted them too. And if she wanted them too, the police would have never stood a chance against her power of vision. ‘But… but she never predicted the next Lady! The Lady is vital to our church!’

‘You’ll have to learn to do without her,’ Emma said harshly, not feeling sorry one bit. ‘Now I want you to leave. I don’t want anything to do with you or that institition you work for. You should be very ashamed of yourself. I’m glad you will never be able to abuse innocent women like her anymore.’

His last piece of hope shattered, the monsigneur slowly walked to the door. He was in what one could consider to be a state of shock, his mind had difficulty hanging on to any coherent thought. As if hypnotized, he walked out of the room, and without a word, walked to the elevator. Those that accompanied him to his shuttle also never heard him speak the entire way, and aboard the shuttle itself, all he uttered was incoherent mumbling. His entire world had been shattered by Emma’s truth; as of now, his church would have to survive without the visions and clearvoyance of the Lady of God.

‘Are you alright?’ Jaydon asked her as she walked out of the room.

She fell into his arms. ‘It’s finally over,’ she sighed relieved.

‘I know,’ he replied and kissed her forehead.

‘We’ve got a shuttle ready to take you to your parents, Mr. Octar,’ the inspector stated. ‘We’ll keep an eye on you to be safe, and we’ll notify you of courtdates. I suggest you get a lawyer for a civil suit against the Brotherhood. We froze their assets, but once we’re done with them, there should be plenty left for you to claim damages for the loss of your ship and livelyhood, as well as further economic and psychologic damages.’

Jaydon held out his hand towards inspector Lohawk. ‘Thanks for everything, inspector. We owe you our lives.’

The inspector smiled, and shook the hand. ‘All in a days work, Mr. Octar. All in a days work.’ With those words, he turned around and walked away.

‘Inspector!’ Jaydon hollored. ‘Tell me; when you pulled your gun on me, were you really going to shoot?’

Without turning around, the inspector stopped, smiled broadly, and continued on his way. Jaydon would never know.

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‘Where is she?’ the monsigneur demanded as he hurried out of his shuttle. He was escorted by his aid and eight Vanguard soldiers.

‘She is currently in one of our interrogation rooms,’ the chief replied. ‘If you will follow me, I’ll take you to her.’

‘Good,’ the monsigneur replied. ‘We were happy to learn that sister Margaret was still alive. Our prayers have been answered. I assume you have already made the proper arrangements to release her to our custody?’

The chief looked surprised – which he veined, because he had anticipated the request – and shook his head. ‘No, I’m afraid not. I wasn’t aware there was any necessaty for it.’

‘That’s alright. As long as you get them ready now, so we can take her with us, I won’t lodge a formal complaint with your superiors,’ the monsigneur spoke, veining a kind and considerate smile.

The chief glared over his shoulder at the eight soldiers, who followed them towards the hangar exit. ‘First of all, your men will have to stay here.’

‘What?’ the monsigneur hollered. ‘I demand…’

The chief interrupted him. ‘You can demand all you want your emminance, but if they set one foot outside of this hangar, my men will consider them to be armed intruders, and will respond accordingly. You have no need for them, so they aren’t going anywhere.’

‘But… but…’ the chubby face of the priest turned bright red.

‘Secondly, I can’t release the girl into your custody, because she isn’t in ours.’

‘But you just said she is here!’

‘She is, she’s just not in our custody. She hasn’t commited any crime, so she was never arrested. She is however a witness for the state in two major cases… Which reminds me of the fact that she is not who you said she is.’

‘This is outragous. I demand that you hand her over to me immediately. You can be sure I will contact your superiors, and by the time I am done with you, you will be lucky if they will let you scrub the lavitory’s at ILEA headquarters!’ the monsigneur bursted out.

The chief grinned. ‘I suggest we continue this conversation in my office, shall we? If you still feel like contacting my superiors, I’ll even let you use my comm.’

It didn’t take them long to reach the office, and the tension between the two men could be cut with a knife. The chief closed the door to his office as soon as the monsigneur had entered, but only after instructing his secretary that they were not be disturbed.

‘You’d better have a good explanation for all of this,’ the monsigneur barked.

Without a word, the chief threw a datasheet with the supplied picture of sister Margaret on his desk, in plain sight of the monsigneur. ‘I’d like for you to explain to me,’ he said, and slapped another datasheet next to the first, this one a picture of Emma taken a few hours earlier, ‘… how your nuns seems to get younger over time?’

The monsigneur looked at both pictures, and glared along his eyebrows to the chief. ‘Is this some sort of joke?’

‘You tell me,’ the chief responded dryly. ‘We have also been able to date that picture by experts, and it is at least fifty years old. Still you claim that the girl on the other picture is the same person, this sister Margaret.’

‘This is propesperous!’ the monsigneur hollored. ‘You have no proof…’

‘It’s right there in front of you. Although I must admit both women could have been identical twins, you could never have confused them. Your sister Margaret should be about eighty these days, but Emma, the woman you claim is sister Margaret, is still in her early twenties. Do you care to explain to me how you came to make that mistake?’

‘This conversation is over,’ the priest snarled, having no answer he really wanted to share with the chief. ‘I demand…’

The chief was fed up with the monsigneur’s broken record act. ‘Destruction of private property, reckless endangerment, attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, terrorist activity, intimidation of witnesses, bribery of witnesses, withholding information from investagating officers of the law, obstruction of justice, and not to mention giving false testimony,’ the chief rattled off. ‘That’s quite a list of charges you could be looking at.’

‘You wouldn’t dare! You have no proof!’ he hollored indignant.

‘I have two witnesses who are willing to testify that your soldiers attacked them in an attempt to kidnap her – he pointed at Emma’s picture – and kill the trader you had us arrested. You attacked a space station when doing this, took it over, locked it down – thus keeping over a thousand people hostage, damaged it internally and externally, intimidated and / or bribed several witnesses to your crime into silence, you send us after Mr. Octar on fake accusations to get your hands on your so called sister Margaret, who turnes out to be someone else, and you expected us to hand her over to you. Believe me, monsigneur, I can make this stick on you, and your millitant Vanguard like flies on honey. By the time I get through with you, you’ll spend the rest of your life in a maximum security prison getting butt fucked a two meter tall Horallian named Bromm!’ Now, the chief’s face had turned a nice bright red.

The monsigneur gasped for breathe, plummeted down in the nearest seat and stared at the two pictures. ‘But… but…’ he murmured. He looked at the chief, who was looking at him with a penetrating stare. He descided to surrender. ‘What do you want?’

‘That Vanguard of you has been a thorn in my side for a very long time. You people think you can do anything you like, and get away with it, just because you pretend to work in name of some deity. I’m giving you a choice; dismantle the Vanguard, and reduce it to a small security force in charge of guarding your temples, churches and convints, or I take these charges, and all of the evidence and slam it onto the desk of the minister of Justice. Believe me; it will be a stack of datasheets he’ll not be able to ignore or put a lid on even if he wanted to. Besides that, it is also quite possible some of it gets leaked to the press.’

‘That’s blackmail!’

‘I consider it a leaneant deal,’ the chief responded. ‘I know you like neither options, but I never told you to abuse your power. Looks like you got careless, thought no one would touch you. Sloppy and stupid. You have yourself to thank for this. May I also suggest an early retirement for yourself?’

‘And the girl?’ he wanted to know. ‘We need her. No deal without the girl.’

The chief laughed mockingly. ‘You’re not in a position to make demands. You should be grateful she even wanted to talk to you after you tried to kidnap her! She’s where I said she i. Give me your definitive answer, and I will take you to her. If she is willing to go with you voluntairily, she is free to do so, but I wouldn’t count on it.’

The monsigneur sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t see a way out of it, and couldn’t believe he had been so careless. This entire affair had been one big nightmare. Not only had he lost the Lady, but he had destroyed the House’s private army – the Vanguard – in the process. Early retirement needn’t be a demand by the chief, the leaders of the church would demand it of him after this disaster. ‘Agreed,’ he sighed. ‘Now take me to see the girl.’ He hoped he could convince her to come with him. That would at least save his career.

‘The Lady of the House?’ the inspector asked, slightly skeptical.

‘That what I have been told,’ Emma replied.

‘Do you think it’s the truth?’ the inspector asked her. ‘She is said to be able to see into the past, present and future. Given the events of the past week, I doubt you have that power.’

‘You are right, I don’t. All I have seen is flashes of the future. Only a few times so far, and I didn’t have any control over it.’

The inspector let these new facts sink into his mind for a moment. ‘We can assume that whoever they cloned you from is dead. We had no report about her death, even though she is one of the most influencial members of the House,’ the inspector reasoned. ‘On the other hand, the House does seem to know who you are; they even supplied a photograph, but were very frugal in supplying us with personal information.’

‘Jaydon told me about that,’ Emma nodded. ‘But why would the overlord lie? He was convinced I was some kind of oracle, as was she.’

The inspector got up, and started to pace up and down the interrogation room. ‘Still, if the Lady never named her successor, and you don’t have her powers, who is the next Lady?’

Emma shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I have no memories of her life. Sometimes things seem familiar, but it’s nothing but a faint impression.’

‘So they way they `recruit` these oracles is something you can’t confirm yourself?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Knowing the House, they covered their tracks very well. At least they won’t be able to do that to anyone else anymore. The chance of finding this oracle amongst many billion people is almost nill,’ he pondered. ‘Too bad we can’t get them for their past indesgrations. They would never admit it of course.’

Emma had a thought. ‘They’re still after me, right?’

‘They think you are dead right now, but as soon as they find out that’s not true, I suspect they’ll go after you again, yes.’

‘Jaydon and I already talked about this, and I really want to be left alone, live my life in peace. They might leave me alone if they learn I’m no oracle, but they might descide to get rid of me all together. Either way I won’t get any rest until I get them off my back.’

‘Are you proposing something?’

‘Jaydon and I agree that they might tell me more. If you hand me over to them,’ she suggested.

‘Could be very risky.’

‘I know, but I feel I owe her that much. They kept her in involuntary servitude for her entire life, and they would do the same to me if I had her powers. They should pay for that.’

‘I doubt we’ll get enough to even get them in front of a judge,’ the inspector stated. ‘Even a taped confession of that monsigneur of the Vanguard wouldn’t be enough. You need hard evidence, something they got rid of long ago.’

‘So they’re going to get away with it?’ She looked dissapointed.

‘Looks like it,’ the inspector answered, equally dissapointed. He became a police officer to serve justice. He learned long ago that justice is not always served. Sometimes, the `bad guys` get away. It was a universal truth. ‘But,’ he suggested, ‘We could arrange a meeting between you and them. So they learn that you don’t remember anything incriminating, and you are not the person they think you are. You can do it somewhere safe, like aboard this ship. You can at least confront them… If you feel up for it.’

Emma thought about it and made a descision. ‘I would like that.’

One of the dropships had taken Jaydon, Emma, a number of wounded police officers, and wounded cultists to the cruiser that was in a stationary orbit dozens of kilometers above the planet, where they were received by the sickbay staff. Some agents were rushed into an operating room, the rest, most of them having only minor injuries, were treated in order of urgency.

The doctor was just finishing suturing Jaydon’s fleshwound when Emma was brought in. She had been enabled to wash the gastly make-up off her face, and slip into some alternative clothes, in his case a grey trainingsuit with the letters ILEA written on the back, which stood for Interstellar Law Enforcement Agency.

‘Ah, I see our next patient has arrived,’ the doctor stated friendly, and instructed the nurse to bandage Jaydon’s wound.

‘I’m alright,’ Emma grumbled.

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ the doctor replied, and instructed her to sit on a chair in the corner of the room. He noticed the fear in her eyes, and tried to comfort her. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

Emma was afraid the exam might reveil her secret.

‘It’s alright, Emma. They already know anyway,’ Jaydon said.

This revelation startled Emma. ‘They know? But Nakita said they cancel…’

‘I know,’ he interrupted her. ‘But I made a deal with the police, and the Justice department. Your life for the location of the Brotherhood, and through them, the chance to round up a group of doctors involved in the cloning of sentient beings.’

‘I just want to examine, and treat your face. I am also told there is a transmitter which may be removed,’ the doctor said.

‘Transmitter?’ Emma cried out. ‘Where?’

‘According to Doc somewhere near your bellybutton,’ Jaydon answered. ‘It’s how the Brotherhood tracked you down, and how we found you. I’m sorry I kept it from you.’

‘Why did you keep it from me?’ Emma demanded to know.

‘I didn’t know what the Brotherhood would do to you. I was afraid they if they learned you or others knew about it, they would deactive, and remove it. Considering the effort they put into getting you back, I assumed they would keep it on in case you managed to escape them. They just tracked us down sooner then I thought when we got jumped in our room. I truly am sorry, Emma, but it was calculated risk I took. I hope you understand, and forgive me.’

Emma thought about it and nodded. ‘It saved me,’ she replied. ‘I don’t think I could have made them believe I was the oracle they thought I was for very long. I’m sure the overlord would have killed me as soon as he found out.’

‘Oracle?’ Jaydon asked.

‘Let’s postpone the Q&A for a later time, shall we? I really would like to get started. There are still a few other patients I need to see,’ the doctor stated, and moved a little closer to Emma to take a closer look at her face.

‘Sorry, doctor,’ she appologised.

‘It’s okay,’ he smiled as he looked at the extend of damage to her face, making sure no bones had been broken.

He injected a solution into her bloodstream that would kill the pain, reduce the swelling, and make the contrusions heal quicker. By that time, Jaydon had been bandaged, so the table was clear. Emma layed down on it, and lifted her shirt to expose her belly. It didn’t take the doctor long to find the transmitter.

‘It’s subdermal,’ he explained her. ‘It’s also not protected, so removing it should be a peace of cake. I will use a local anastetic, and remove it right now. I will only require to make a very small cut, so the procedure won’t even leave a scar.’

‘Fine by me,’ Emma replied. ‘Just as long as you get that thing out of me. I don’t need it anymore.’

‘Damn, I knew this wouldn’t be easy,’ the inspector grinded as he hid behind a large bolder. ‘Stay down, Octar.’

Jaydon had squatted down next to him, keeping his head out of the line of fire. ‘I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.’

Airsupport started firing on several positions to give the five squadrons of SWAT teams enough cover to slip into the stronghold. It had been build halfway into a mountain; it’s hallways, corridors, and chambers partially carved out of the mountain wall. At the back, there was a large hangar bay, which would need to be secured by several other squadrons. According to the information at the missionbriefing – which Jaydon had been allowed to attend – the old fortress must have belonged to a viceroy that had several of these bases when he kept the region in his grip several centuries ago.

A loud bang heralded the sucessful penetration of the front gate, blown to pieces by the SWAT’s demolition team.

The inspector jumped up from behind the boulder. ‘Wait until I give the `clear` signal. Until then; stay put,’ he ordered Jaydon, and then yelled to his men: ‘Let’s get these bastards, men! Remember that they have a hostage, and she should not be harmed!’

Jaydon also jumped up from behind the boulder, and bolted after the inspector. ‘Like hell I am! Emma is in there!’

‘I don’t have time to protect you, Octar,’ he snarled.

‘I know, I’m on my own!’ Jaydon hollered back, and dashed up the hill towards the gate of the stronghold, unarmed, but quite determined.

As he got there, he pressed himself against the wall for cover. The SWAT officers were dressed in full body suits, constructed of special material to prevent them from getting killed by a pulse blast. One of them had mentioned it still hurt like hell though. Jaydon had been given a vest with the same properties, but that only protected his centre mass. Automatic pulse rifles fired repeatedly at the cultists, who returned fire equally fierce. Casualties fell on both sides.

A squadron sergeant ordered his men to move forward after they had cleared the courtyard of the stronghold. Jaydon followed them in, much to the annoyance of the inspector, who really didn’t want to loose Jaydon to the combined misfortune of his stubberness, and a well aimed or stray pulse bolt.

As the seizure progressed, the police managed to penetrate deeper and deeper into the keep. One team had already secured the dungeon and was checking for Emma room by room. Jaydon figured that at the very least, the leader of the cult would have kept her close by, considering her appearant worth, although he still was fuzzy on the details. He had already figured out it must have something to do with her preminitions, but though they had proved their use in the past, so far, she only had them when in danger, and only seconds before the actual event.

The team Jaydon had followed in headed directly towards the throneroom. As the halls got wider, resistance grew. No longer willing to be a millstone, the young trader had grabbed a rifle from a dead cultist, and had also opened fire at anyone who took potshots at him or the men around him. His aim sucked, proving his innocence once and for all.

‘They are headed this way! Cut them off! Don’t let them enter this room!’ the overlord ordered the guards.

He would watch Emma himself. The Eluvians were still held down in a corner of the room by the microwave blaster set for automatic activation when they moved around to much – or tried to run.

Emma stayed on the throne, petrofied of fear by the overlord. His eyes now spat fire and rage, and his already earie appearance now looking forthright demonic.

The two guards were suprised by half a squad of SWAT agents, and a tradesman. They never got off a shot as they tumbled backwards to the floor, a large scourchmark center mass.

‘Behind us!’ Jaydon hollored, and rolled to the side.

The officers swirled their rifles around, and immediately opened fire on the cultists coming up behind them. They regrouped, and started to hold their position, which was all they could do until reenforcements arrived.

Jaydon heared a woman scream down the hall. ‘Emma,’ he panted, jumped up and ran towards the sound.

‘Where the hell is he going?’ one of the men asked no one in particular.

‘I don’t know, but we don’t have a man to spare to help him. He’s on his own,’ the squadronleader replied.

Jaydon ran down the hall, and nearly bumped into a cultist that was just as suprised to see him as Jaydon was. Without thinking, he swirled the butt of his rifle towards the head of the man, and knocked him out. ‘And stay down, you sick bastard,’ he puffed, and continued his scramble towards the throneroom.

‘Emma?’ Jaydon cried out as he entered the circular room, and looked around.

‘Jaydon?’ Emma cried out from the throne. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘Aaaargh!’ With a fierce battlecry, the overlord bolted towards Jaydon, pointing a sharp blade at his chest.

‘Jaydon!’ Emma cried, now panickstricken in stead of suprised.

He aimed the nossle of his rifle at the overlord that was heading for him. The yancked the trigger, and the weapon powered down. Jaydon looked down in astonishment, and mumbled ‘What the…’ Then he realized the overlord was still headed towards him at high speed, and with a drawn knife.

As he looked up, the overlord lept, and swooped the knife down. Jaydon swang the rifle upwards, holding it horizontally and parallel to his torso. He caught the knife several decimeters before it was rammed into his flesh, but lost has balance, and tumbled backwards, pulling the overlord with him.

Emma screetched.

The overlord managed to recover himself quicker then Jaydon did, and slashed down. Jaydon tried to roll away, but the overlord was sitting on top of him, limiting his movements. The knife ricochet off one of his ribs, leaving him with a shallow but painful wound.

Gasping for breath from the pain, Jaydon saw the knife already hovering over his head for a second stab. Ironically, his vest could stop a pulse bolt, but the material could easily be penetrated by a sharp object.

‘Hubby?’ a voice behind the overlord said cloyingly sweet.

He looked over his shoulder, blade still ready to strike.

‘Consider this a divorse,’ Emma growled and smashed one of the earthenware vases into the side of his head.

It broke into hundreds of pieces which were hurled into the chamber along with water and longstemmed black roses. The overlord was knocked out, and fell flat on his face.

‘Hi,’ Jaydon said, a bit baffled. ‘I came to rescue you.’

‘I thought they killed you!’ she cried out. She rolled the overlord off him and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Hi.’

They kissed pationately.

‘Octar!’ they heard the inspector holler. They looked up, and saw him bolt into the room, followed by at least two squadrons, who immediately started to secure the room. ‘I didn’t suspect to find you here alive, you little twit.’ He noticed the overlord, and random peaces of vase. ‘What happened to him?’

‘His face ran into a speeding vase,’ Jaydon grinned, laughed and immediately grabbed his side, clearly in some degree of pain.

‘Looks superficial,’ the inspector observed. ‘But those still hurt like hell. I’ll have a medic look at that.’ He turned his attention towards Emma. ‘You must be Emma. Are you alright?’ he asked, refering to her face, which was clearly brused, and a little swollen as well as her generic state of mind and body.

‘It’s just a little sore,’ she replied. ‘But thanks for asking.’

The inspector turned his attention back to his team. ‘Let’s round them up, men. Get those Eluvians to vessel twenty three, they have a lot of explaining to do. Divide the rest over the remaining paddy ships.’

Some of the more technical agents were already trying to shut down the microwave turret aimed at the alien medical experts.

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Jaydon asked, a bit worried.

‘You should worry about yourself,’ she smiled, poking his side.

‘Ouch, don’t do that!’ he hissed. ‘You look silly.’

‘I know,’ she grinned, glaring down at herself. ‘You sure can see a lot of me.’ She allowed him to lean on her a little, and helped him into the hallway.

Jaydon clutched his side. ‘What did you mean with divorse?’ he asked.

‘There was a wedding,’ she started to giggle. ‘I’ll explain later. I doubt it was even legitemate. Why don’t you tell me how you found me?’

‘I’ll explain that later too. Right now, all I want to do is lay down. I’m exhausted.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ she agreed.

‘Arm yourselves!’ the overlord raged. ‘Destroy the infidels! They shall not conquer us!’ The followers were more scared of him than of the police. The men and women scrambled, and ran in every possible direction carrying a gun, rifle or dagger. The Eluvians stepped towards an exit, but were stopped but the voice of the overlord.

‘Leaving so soon?’ he hissed, and a turretlike device popped out of the ceiling, and aimed itself while swirling it’s nossle towards them.

The Eluvians knew he was mad enough to kill them on a whim, and froze.

Then, he turned his attention to Emma. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ he sneared.

‘I did!’ she hollored, no longer hiding her fear.

‘Not very long in advance, did you?’ He walked towards her with fast, long steps, and grabbed her by her shoulders. He shook her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? What is going to happen? How can we stop them? Tell me, you wench!’

Emma acted on instinct. With a sudden and unexpected move, she freed her right shoulder, and heaved her hand above her head. The eyes of the overlord followed her movement, not considering her next move, which was slashing it downwards along his face, ripping open the flesh on his face with the metal nails.

He yelped and jumped back, grabbing his face. Emma startled herself and took a step back. She realized she had done something potentially stupid.

The overlord looked up at her with pure hate, and loathing was oozing from his eyeballs. He bolted towards her, and smacked her across the face for the second time that day, but this time used his fist. Emma was hurled back and smacked onto the floor. Some blood had gathered in her mouth, and a combination of the red fluid and saliva dripped from her black lips. Her cheek felt as if it were on fire.

‘I will deal with you later!’ he snapped his promiss, and turned his attention to delegating his followers. ‘Guard her, and keep her here,’ he ordered two men with rifles. ‘Knock her around a bit if you have to, but don’t kill her, or I will torture you for a month.’

The guards nodded, walked up to Emma, picked her up from the floor, and threw her onto her throne. They had the good sense to quickly remove her gloves so she couldn’t hurt anyone with them.

Ignoring his very painful face, and the blood dripping on his fancy clothes, the overlord barked orders to his men and women, despirately trying to keep the police from overrunning his stronghold. He didn’t know how they found him, but he was determined to let none of them leave alive.

Emma was led into the throneroom. She assumed the tapastries portaying horrible acts of death and destruction were not decoration placed on the walls for the wedding. The guests consisted of nothing but hooded and robed men and women, all positioned in a broad cresent shape around two thrones. The less elaborate and slightly lower placed one would be hers, she guessed. In a corner, several Eluvians patiently awaited what was to come. They had obviously been invited by the overlord, wanting to spend his moment of victory with as much people as possible.

The cultists started to chant. Emma couldn’t understand it, because it was all in latin. It did sound earie to her and she suspected whatever they were saying, it wouldn’t be something very pleasant. The room was engulfed in a dark, evil atmosphere.

Her bridesmaids guided her towards her husband to be, the overlord of Ragnarok, leader of the cult. His face, especially his haunted looking eyes, made her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Her bridesbouquet were black roses, nicely matching the weddingdress in the cult’s colours; pitch black and blood red. Her clevage revealed more then she would have liked, and the entire ensamble was far from comfortable. Her face was covered by a hood attached to a long cape and a black lace mask. She wore gloves that had sharp metal claws attached to the fingertips. Emma suspected they had planned to `program` her to be exactly what the overlord had wanted her to be, but her premature awakening must have foiled their plans. They must have not had time to change the attire, or simply assumed she wouldn’t resist. The were right; she wouldn’t.

When she ended up next to the overlord, the chanting stopped abruptly. A short old man emerged from the shadows, wearing a preverted version of a priests attire.

‘Mylady,’ he said with a greeting bow. ‘Mylord,’ he said and bowed in a simular fashion to the overlord. He then turned his attention to the congrigation. ‘Brothers of Ragnarok, Sisters of the Abyss. Today, on this gloriously dark day, our order will rise from the pits of hell, and claim its rightful place in the galaxy. Today, we will unite wisdom,’ he turned towards the overlord to point him out, and then turned to face Emma. ‘… and vision, to lead us to our destiny.’

The men and women cheered and stomped their feet. Emma was glad her face was hidden from sight so they couldn’t see how scared she was. She gathered all of her courage, because she suspected the ceremony would not be a lengthly one. At least, she hoped it wouldn’t be.

‘Now, let the unification commence!’ the dark priest continued. ‘Do you, overlord of the Brotherhood of Ragnarok, leader of the Abyss, Iramus Zerecuse, take this woman to be your bride in darkness?’

‘I take this woman in darkness,’ he replied with a horrible lustful smirk.

Emma wasn’t sure it was powerhungry lust, physical lust or a combination of both. Either way, she wished she could just close her eyes and be somewhere else, somewhere very very far away from here.

‘And do you, Lady of the Brotherhood of Ragnarok, sister of the Abyss, Malice Haydes, take this man to be your husband in darkness?’

Emma hated the name they had come up with for her. Suck it up, Em. They’ll kill you if you don’t. Play along, she thought, inhaled deeply and spoke; ‘I take this man in darkness.’

‘Then, reveal yourself to your subjects!’ the priest wailed.

As rehersed with the women that had dressed her – a few of the Sisters of the Abyss, the female counterparts of the cult – she turned to face the crowd, and removed the hood from her head.

They chanted something in latin, three times over, and she faced the overlord again.

‘Ragnarok and the Abyss approve!’ the priest translated, as if they had any real say in it. ‘Overlord, reveal her to yourself.’

The overlord removed the lace screen from her head, and revealed her face. They had even done her make-up in the cult colours; black lipstick, red eyeshadow and an attempt to make her look a malevolant by emphasizing certain lines with black eyeliner. They had only partially succeded. He spoke the same words as the clergy had spoken, also three times in a row.

‘The overlord approves!’ the priest wailed. ‘Let a kiss now seal this unity, and bind these two in sacret matremony!’

For the second time, Emma encouraged herself in her mind; It’s only a kiss. Can’t be that bad. Pretend it’s Jaydon. She couldn’t, but managed to keep a straight face, as the overlord grabbed it, and pressed his mouth onto her lips. His tongue twisted, and turned like a rabbid snake. She needed to concentrate really hard not to retch.

‘Glory to the happy couple!’ the priest shouted and the clergy joined in to cheer.

The overlord waved at his people as if he was a very loved man. Emma, still believing beating them would be impossible at this point, so joining them would be her only viable option, waved at them too, although a bit shy, and tried to look happy in stead of nausiated.

The overlord gestured his followers to stop cheering. They obeyed almost instantly. She hesitantly lowered her arm and held onto her bridesbouquet with both hands again.

‘And now…’ the overlord hollered, ‘… your lady will use her gift to peer into the future and prophesize the arrival of Ragnarok!’

The crowd cheered, they loved it. Finally they would know when they would become higher beings. Emma gulped and tried to hide her worried frown. She estimated she had about five minutes to live if she didn’t play along convincingly enough… or worse; much, much longer.

With the words screw it bouncing around in her brain, she took a step forward and theatrically held her hands above her head, the black roses still in one hand. ‘Brothers! Sisters!’ she yelled, giving a performance that could make a seasoned actress jealous. Fear can be a great motivator.

The suspence in the room could now be cut with a knife. The breathless crowd awaited her words impatiently. She could even hear the overlord holding his breath.

‘As I turn my eyes towards the future, past the mysts of revelation, I see…’ She added a dramatic pause.

At that particular point in time, her natural ability to see into the immediate future kicked in, and turned her catatonic for a second. As usual, her pupils narrowed, and all external sensory was shut down for the process. As the moment passed, her senses went back to normal and she stammered ‘… hundreds of police officers storming the building.’

‘What?’ the overlord hollored while a worried murmer emminated from the followerd. ‘When?’

‘This is the police.’ A demanding voice flooded the interior of the stronghold the cult had taken as their home. ‘You are all under arrest. We order you to surrender your weapons, and stay where you are with your hands on your head facing the nearest wall. Comply and we can do this without unnessacary bloodshed.’

Unfortunately, the cult liked unnessacary bloodshed very much.

After three days, Emma was taken from her cell and brought to a beautiful room somewhere in what seemed to be some sort of castle. The overlord had `visited` her on several occaisions, and it didn’t take him a lot of effort to get Emma to comply to his wishes. Se seemed numb, her eyes had lost their spark. Everything good in her life was gone. This realization had sucked the life from her, and she didn’t have much of a choice anyway. She was clever enough to realize that if the overlord didn’t get his way, he would make her comply by any means he felt nesaccary. She saw in his pitchblack eyes he was a ruthless and crewel man, capable of anything.

Four women undressed her and bathed her. They seemed very excited about it, and a little envious. But Emma noticed something artificial about the respect they showed her; it seemed fearinduced. Still, they constantly called her `lady`. She thought the term was unsettling and yet familiar, but wasn’t sure why.

‘Your weddingdress, mylady,’ one of the women announced and two others rolled in a mannequin dressed in an elegant and extravagant looking gown.

Emma would give anything to slip into some pants and a shirt right now.

The women helped her into it as if she was a mannequin herself. They didn’t need to adjust anything; it was a perfect fit. Not surprising, considering for all intent and porpuses, the Brotherhood had fabricated her – or at least payed others to do so.

As the women finished dressing Emma, the two large doors giving access to the room opened and the overlord walked inside. ‘Leave us,’ he ordered.

Without thinking twice about it, the women left the room in a hurry, but not after each of them honoring the overlord with a respectful bow.

‘Isn’t it supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?’ Emma asked.

‘A silly superstition not worthy of the Brotherhood,’ the overlord replied dryly.

A very bold assumption for a man wanting to bring on the end of the universe because he believes it will make him a god, Emma said to herself.

‘So, you have gotten used to the idea of becomming my bride? Of joining the most powerful man of the universe in wedlock?’

Emma added megalomania to the her list of `things seriously wrong with the overlord`. ‘The thought alone is making me sick to my stomach,’ she snapped, then sighed: ‘… but I have no choice, do I?’

The overlord grinned malevolantly, which he felt was a sufficiant answer. ‘You should know I am looking forward to consumating our union.’

‘By the gods, you might as well kill me now.’ The thought of sex with him was far worse then marriage.

The overlord smacked her across the face with the back of his hand and snarled: ‘Never ever disrespect me like that again, woman! Don’t think I won’t punish you severly! There are plenty of horribly painful wounds I can make that can be covered by cloth. Obey or learn to obey the hard and painful way!’

Emma touched her burning cheek. She felt humiliated. Jaydon would never have touched her in anger, but he was dead. She slowly got up. A strong feeling of familiarity creeped up on her, as if she had been in a simular situation before, eventhough she knew she hadn’t been as far as she could remember.

The overlord walked towards the door. ‘I will see you in a two hours, when we will be wed in my throneroom.’

‘Who was she?’ Emma hollored, her fists closed. She trembled with anger. She had to know.

‘What do you mean?’ the overlord replied without looking over his shoulder.

‘You killed her, didn’t you? You killed her, and then you made me!’ she said it with an accusing tone of voice.

Now the overlord did turn around. ‘You know?’ His surprise was bigger then his anger for her insolence.

‘Just that I wasn’t born like other people, and that I don’t have amnesia, but simply don’t have a memory yet.’

He glared at her, his hands behind his back. ‘Who else knows?’

‘No one,’ she lied.

‘Not even that trader of yours?’ The overlord spat out the word `trader` as if it was something revulting.

‘Especially not him,’ she fibbed. ‘I didn’t want him to know I was some sort of freak of nature. I figured it out all by myself.’ She kept the truth from him to protect the two other people who knew the truth; Nakita and Doc.

‘Naturally,’ he nodded, ‘that shouldn’t surprise me, considering who you are, or who she was.’

‘I want to know,’ she stated, quickly adding the most respectful ‘Please.’ she could muster.

‘You – she – worked for the House of God. They never named her you see, they simply called her `the Lady of God`. Her and those before her. The Lady is a seer, an oracle. Some say she is as powerful as the Man of God, the religious leader of the House, but in reality, she is nothing but a drone. Everytime before one dies, she predicts her successor. The church fetches this girl, often within hours of birth. The parents are either forced to silence, or killed if they are unwilling to comply. The Lady sees future, past and present, so you can see why she is such a valuable commodity. I, as leader of the Brotherhood, descided to break the chain. So, we erradicated the convint where they kept her, killed everyone and used her genetic material to make you.’

‘You killed her too?’ she gasped.

‘She was an old crone, well in her eighties. You don’t expect me to marry that? And her successor, which she hadn’t revealed yet, would be a baby. I don’t want to wait two decades! I just traded her in for a younger model; you.’

His indifference shocked and nausiated Emma. She felt as if he had killed her, and in a way, he had. Still his story held some facts she didn’t completely comprihend; she didn’t have the power to see the present and the past. Sure, there were her preminitions, but they were short, uncontrolable flashes which only showed her events about to happen and they had them only three times so far; all three times to alert her to danger. She realized this put her in an even more dangerous situation; as soon as the overlord realized his goose with the golden eggs was nothing but a common hen, she would suddenly and rapidly become highly expendable. He would most certainly kill her, if only out of anger.

‘So, now your bloodline, the Line of the Oracles belongs to the Brotherhood. To me!’ he laughed. ‘I will see you in a few hours, woman. But then again; you already know that.’

As he walked out the door, the women hurried back inside to continue preparing Emma for her big day. She just stood there, frozen, and let them do what they wanted. She was trying to figure out how to fake fortunetelling long enough to come up with an escape plan, at least long enough for her to escape – assuming that would be possible. She couldn’t think of anything.

Emma woke up. Her mind was still groggy from the narcotics that had been used to sedate her. She pushed the palm of her hand against her forehead, but it felt as if it was putty she could push through. She tried to get up from the bed – which was little more then a wooden board with some hay and stale smelling old sheets. She was dressed in a simple black robe, tied around her waist with a red braid chord.

She was barely able to move her legs and when she finally managed to get her feet on the floor and cautiously put some weight on them, she felt a sharp pain shoot through her legs.

‘Ouch, damned,’ she narled, and heaved herself back onto the bed.

As her eyes started to get used to the surrounding darkness, she noticed more and more details about her cell. It was damp, constructed with very large bricks or stones of somesort, and the only source of light was a barred window very high above her head. Emma gleamed up and sighed. She knew there would be no way she would be able to get out of here.

Her mind started to clear up enough to remember what had happened just before she had lost conciousness. Her eyes widened. ‘Jaydon!’ The last thing she had seen was him being knocked out and pounched on by several cultists. There was no doubt in her mind that they must have killed him. She felt her stomach turn and twist and she regurgitated. She curled up in the fetal position and cried.

Outside her cell, the overlord of the Brotherhood glared at a viewscreen showing the interior of the cell. He turned off the monitor, and swirled towards the Eluvian physician standing behind him.

‘So you are absolutely sure you can’t program her anymore as planned?’

‘Positive,’ the reptile hissed. ‘She has been awake for a week now. She has memories and thoughts, and her base personality – the non-genetic part of it – has almost completely formed itself.’

‘Can’t you erase all of that?’

‘Not without a very serious risk of massive brain damage.’

The overlord kicked a pebble down the hallway. ‘All because some moron accidently bumped into the controlboard of her slumberpod, and tripped the wakening sequence,’ the overlord growled. ‘Is there any other way to get her under my control?’

‘Possible, but it will be extremely costly.’

The overlord thought about it for a few moments. ‘I’ll break her myself. Looks like she is already halfway there on her own. I’ll have my lady at my side, no matter what.’

‘As you wish,’ the Eluvian bowed and went back to his guestroom.