A squat-looking shuttle craft drifts toward one of the orbital stations – one that looks like a magnificent palace, no doubt drawing frequent comparisons to the notion of a heavenly city of paradise. The two cheetah pilots in the cockpit up in the nose handle the details of bringing the craft closer to the station, and the eventual detail of matching its spin in order to dock properly. In the rear passenger compartment, a black Khatta and a gunmetal-grey Skreek await landing, for the moment being subjected to a sensation of near-weightlessness, though that will soon end as the craft starts its deceleration – which will turn "forward" into "down" for the duration.

Sebazhan habitually checks through his pouches of material components – untouched for the most part during the entirety of his journey beyond Sinai, since magic is of little use in these parts. He's checked the pouches several times before, but given the gravity of the situation, is unabashed about checking "one more time" or three or four if necessary to make sure there are no unpleasant little surprises. There are bound to be enough of those already.

Due to the nature of the visit – that is, under the pretense of coming for peaceful meditation, not armed assault – the Dacks haven't been provided with very much in the way of firepower. Such things as daggers and swords evoke little concern, since they are routinely carried about even in the most peaceful of places, as a matter of tradition and marks of station. Guns would prompt far more eyebrow-raising … so, for the time being, all the firearms are in the possession of the pilots. (After all … they might have to fight off boarders.)

However, both Sebazhan and Willow have some handy little devices called "stunners". The easily palmed devices can be used to send an electric jolt that should stun most normal-sized humanoids, though it requires skin (or fur) contact, and it's an "up close and personal" sort of device. The only real advantage it has over bludgeoning someone at that range is that it's less likely to kill, and it would probably make less noise and mess.

As an interesting bonus (?), it's not that difficult to set the devices to overload, at which point they vibrate, hum loudly, then detonate a few seconds later in a shower of sparks and molten plastic.

The Dacks are on a pretty tight schedule. The plan was to allow them about a half hour to get in to the Crystal Cathedral, using whatever means necessary to get access to the crystals without interruption, then there's another hour for Sebazhan to start warming up with spells todisrupt communications and anything else that can be disrupted.

About that time, another group of "visitors" should arrive. If their hosts don't get suspicious, Sebazhan can use the time for more mayhem. If they do, then the assault is on. Once word is given, more shuttles will be coming in with troops, focusing on strategic locations based on what information spies could provide. Fortunately, the location of the Crystal Cathedral is pretty well established … so care will be taken to spare it from any damage, if things get ugly.

While this whole operation is going on, a fleet of starships and Titans are massing for a "parade", ostensibly in honor of the expected upcoming announcement of the new Archon. The unspoken double purpose is a bit of insurance, in case Star's-Light has a card up his sleeve and calls in some sort of heavy reinforcements. And if not … well, no harm done in a little overkill for a good cause, when so much is at stake.

The Skreek pats herself down. "I don't feel at all ready for this, but I suppose that shouldn't be too much of a surprise. Still think you can lock the doors down, Sebazhan?"

Sebazhan nods. "Yes, I think I can manage that." He takes another deep breath. "Must … be … calm. We are star-struck, naive, backwater tourists from Sinai. Here to pay homage and seek enlightenment. Not to wreak havoc."

Willow bites her lip and undoes the clasp holding her in her seat. She floats over and grips the straps on Sebazhan's shoulders. "It's alright. We'll be doing this together, remember? We just do our jobs and things will work out." She clumsily kisses the Khatta's forehead. "I think we make a pretty good team, personally."

A chime, a flicker of the lights, and a projected set of hand-signs alert the passengers that the shuttle is about to decelerate for docking … and that they should secure their harnesses, if they hadn't done so already.

Sebazhan starts to relax, but his tail bottlebrushes at the signal. "Ah! Back to the seat!" He checks his own harness.

The Skreek sticks out the tip of her tongue in dismay as she floats back to her chair and starts latching herself back in. "Just remember not to fidget with your pockets or any of the toys we were given. And if you have something to say, say it in Krozite. Try to look somber like we're about to make a big decision; it'll help you hide your nervousness."

Sebazhan nods. "Good idea." He sighs. "With Shadow Magic, I can hide my scent, obscure myself, and generally be sneaky. It takes some getting used to, being a scoundrel without one set of toys … and with another set to take their places." He jiggles a pocket, and winks at Willow. "But I catch on quick."

"You married a scoundrel; I'm sure you've been around me long enough to pick up some of my habits." The gray rat winks back and then settles into her seat.

It turns out that Willow has ample time to get to her chair, and even once the deceleration begins, it's fairly gentle at first, slowly building, but never putting much force on the passengers. Soon enough, the dreaded signal comes that the shuttle is about to start spinning to match the rotation of the station. Sebazhan braces himself. He really hates this part.

Willow grins her teeth. "If Nene were here she'd be yelling wheeeeeeee! right up until the big bump where it'd take a minute or so to make her stop crying… " She feels a heavy sensation in her stomach, not from the landing but from the thought that she might not ever see Nene again, or Nene might not see her father again, or some other horrible fate. No, this isn't the time to be a cynic. Just do the job and hope for the best. Her fingernails dig into one of the armrests on her seat.

The shuttle starts spinning, and though the whole ordeal actually only lasts a few seconds before the shuttle is able to descend down one of the docking shafts and stabilize itself, it's still the sort of thing that results in some disorientation and discomfort that lasts a while thereafter. The gentle "descent" toward the rim of the station, however, is slow enough for Willow and Sebazhan to have a chance to recover and make final checks before disembarking. The passenger compartment shakes with the landing, and after the usual routine, the boarding hatch unseals and folds out into a ramp. In a repeat of the scene last time, there are several cheetah attendants awaiting at the reception area. It looks like the shuttle was even sent to the same landing area.

The Skreek slowly pulls her straps off and rises from her seat. She shuffles a little to work out some stiffness in her joints and then starts to walk out to meet the reception group. She holds a hand out to Sebazhan as she adopts a professional yet slightly sad air about her. "Hello again. Thank you for allowing us to visit this second time."

The guards, dressed in ceremonial sashes and uniforms, show little response to the visiting dignitaries. A female assistant – the same one who showed the Dacks around before, bows, signing, "We welcome those who seek the Light. I am Chosen-Wind, and I am glad to once again be your guide as you visit and join us in our quest for enlightenment."

Willow bows back. "I and my husband have come here to meditate. I believe I have reached my decision for the new Archon, but before I make it known to the world I wished to spend some spiritual time. For some reason the monastery on Zion does not fill the need I require, so I have come here."

Chosen-Wind's face breaks into a wide smile, and despite her restraint, she looks as if she is about to burst with happiness at the news – no doubt having certain ideas about just who Willow should be nominating. "Splendid! Please, do come in. Might I be able to get you anything to make your stay more enjoyable and less distracting?" She turns, gesturing toward the disc-shaped platform that leads "down" further into the palace.

The Skreek grips Sebazhan's hand a bit tighter. "This is not an easy decision for me, and one of the things that has jostled my thoughts on Zion is that I have over twenty candidates running around plus the staff of the monastery. I would like to do my meditations in the crystal chamber, but I also would like some privacy if at all possible … just for an hour or so? I know I'm asking for a great deal … but it involves such a great decision and I do not wish to leave with the guilt of making the wrong one staining me when I return to my homeworld."

Chosen-Wind seems for a moment reluctant, as she leads the Dacks to the platform, but then she throws out her hands in an expansive gesture, and brings them together again, signing, "Well … I don't think that would be normally done … but given the great gravity of the situation, and your need for a time for contemplation … how could we refuse?" She smiles broadly.

"Bless you. It means an immense deal to me." She brushes her head against Sebazhan's shoulder in a soft gesture of comfort, for her and for him. "Have things here been well? I don't know how the lack of your leader has affected the daily goings-on of the temple."

Chosen-Wind signs, "Oh, we have adapted. He is a very busy man, and cannot be expected to have to tend to the minutiae of running things here. So, we have long been expected to look after ourselves in his absence before. We are eagerly anticipating his return, of course."

The disc comes to a soft stop at the bottom of the shaft. Curved doors at one side of the cylindrical shaft open up, revealing the garden beyond, unchanged since Willow's last visit. "Welcome to the Heavenly Palace of Divine Light," Chosen-Wind signs with even more enthusiasm than the first time.

"There must be a lot of excitement in the air here with word getting out that I'm about to make my decision. How are things here in that regard?" Willow smiles sheepishly. "My apologies if I'm sounding nosy, but I've been cooped up in Zion my whole time while in the space of the People that my visits here have been my only contact with anyone on the outside world, really. Well, except for the visits to the market, but they just wanted to sell me things and not really chit-chat."

Chosen-Wind's hands flutter a bit, as she leads the Dacks into the garden, but then she signs, "Well, what is there to sign? We are all eagerly awaiting word of the results. Until then, we have nothing to do, really, but to be faithful stewards of what we have been entrusted with, and to wait patiently for the truth to be revealed."

"I understand." The Skreek looks around for the statues she vaguely remembers seeing in the garden. "Have you been with the order long, Chosen-Wind?"

The statues are still in their places, here and there in the garden, positioned in such a way that it is not immediately evident that they form a rough circle until one is standing amongst them. Chosen-Wind signs, "For almost a year now."

The Skreek glances back at the statue of the multi-armed cheetah woman, her grip on Sebazhan's hand tightening a little. "So you've been here awhile, but not all your life? What did you do before you came here?" She tries to smile a little, and does manage to put some genuine emotion into her words, despite the fact that her meaning might not be what Chosen-Wind may think it to be. "I'll bet you were a student in college or something similar before you came here. For some reason I could easily see you as such."

Willow doesn't feel any strange sensations, no whispers in her head, no dizziness at all. While her surroundings appear unchanged from last time, the sensations on an unseen level are entirely different. Chosen-Wind nods, smiling. "You are quite correct! I found, though, that my studies here are far more rewarding – especially the chance for me to find a more spiritually fulfilling use for myself, rather than pursuing a selfish 'career'."

The Skreek pauses in her step and looks up at the statue of Light-of-Star. "Ah, and here we meet again." She looks up at the statue in the manner an artisan would study a painting. ( I wonder why things feel different? I hope they're not onto us… Bah, but it's too late to stop now.)

Chosen-Wind nods, and walks over to the double doors. She signs, "I will make certain that you are not disturbed while you are in the Crystal Cathedral. If you should have need for anything, there is a summoner panel on the wall near the door." She gestures to a similar panel visible on this side of the double doors.

The whole time, Sebazhan just looks about, feigning interest in this or that, keeping his mouth shut.

The Skreek points towards the statue. "I know this sounds odd, but were the statues in the garden replaced since my last visit? The statue of Star's Light looks like the one I remember from last time … but something's missing … I can't quite explain it. The one I saw here before was so regal and masterful. I almost fell in love with it the moment I came here." She shrugs. "Perhaps it's nothing. Perhaps I don't require inspiration this visit."

Chosen-Wind's brows furrow in puzzlement. "Oh? I … I am not quite certain that I understand you. Maybe … " She smiles slowly. "Maybe you were awed by the image of an Enlightened One … but perhaps you have, in the intervening time, been blessed with the presence of a truly enlightened being in your own life. Statues, after all, no matter how lofty the ideals they represent, are still only icons and symbols."

Sebazhan casts Willow a concerned sideways look when he supposes Chosen-Wind isn't looking his way.

"Perhaps that is it," Willow agrees, rubbing her nose with her free hand. "Anyroad, I appreciate your guidance yet again." She squeezes Sebazhan's hand again instead of nodding. Something is different, and she hopes it hasn't spread all the way to the crystals in the meditation room.

Chosen-Wind beams. "I am honored to be of help, Lady and Lord Dack." She bows.

Sebazhan smiles to Chosen-Wind, nodding in kind, then speaks up, though still in a quiet voice. "Is this the way to the Crystal Cathedral? There are so many passages this way and that, I can't remember for certain."

Chosen-Wind nods, and gestures toward the doorway. "This way. I do not mean to detain you."

The Skreek flicks an ear and nods, looking slightly sad again. She says nothing more as she follows along after the guide and simply looks around, trying to nonchalantly spot any useful doorways to duck into or anything of note like guards or security cameras.

Tastefully concealed behind some hanging plants are some security cameras – their range of vision necessarily limited a bit by the very plants that conceal them, but still likely to pick up movement in the garden area. Most of the doorways, alas, are fairly flush with the corridor – The doors don't swing open or closed, so there's little need to allow much room for them, aside from enough wall on one side or the other for the door to retract into.

At last, they come into the Crystal Cathedral. It seems as dazzling to the eyes as ever, filled with crystal shards here and there and everywhere. In fact, it may only be Willow's imagination, but it seems as if Light-of-Star might have somehow acquired several new additions to his collection since her last visit. Many of the crystals aren't even necessarily attached in place, but rather perched on pedestals or in alcoves … though many of them don't look like they'd invite casual handling, since they have very sharp, sometimes dagger-like points on them, and most of them are so awkward as to make it difficult to find anywhere to grab hold.

Swallowing, the gunmetal rat finally releases Sebazhan's hand as she enters the room. "As beautiful as I remember, but there are some new ones I see." She cautiously walks over to one of the new crystals and then nods to Chosen-Wind. "Thank you again. I'll call if I require anything, but for now I believe I should begin my meditations."

Chosen-Wind bows, and exits, closing the doors behind her. They make a somewhat unsettling click as they engage.

Sebazhan looks about, scanning the room. "Yes, a few new additions," he says, reverting to the Krozite tongue. "I can't tell just by looking at them what their purpose might be. I believe there's a whole branch of the Technopriesthood devoted to that sort of thing." He smirks.

The Skreek leans over and gives one of the crystals a good sniffing, trying to see if the scent of dirt or plants on the new crystals. "I wonder if these were planted in the garden and were dug out for some reason," she chitters.

A few odd scents reach Willow's nose – not the scent of dust from the room, or the local environment, underscoring the idea that they might be recent additions – but nothing that seems to give credence to this theory (nor discount it, either).

Sebazhan looks around some more … then locates the purple shard he had made use of earlier, and hastily sets up. In Krozite, he murmurs as he works, "Well, I had best start my meditations. Here are my fragrant incense candles, to help me focus. Here are my chalks, so that I may 'find the center'… "

The Skreek lashes her tail nervously. "Sebazhan, what does this room feel like to you?" She walks out into the center of the chamber and studies the walls, looking for signs of cameras or listening devices.

No such things seem evident. Of course, there is always the possibility of such things being cleverly hidden about – There would be no way to know for certain, shy of dismantling the place – but according to the things taught to her about Silent-Ones surveillance equipment, it just doesn't look like anyone has gone to the trouble of spying on this particular chamber. In fact, it seems that there's hardly anything technological in the room at all, save for the doors leading in.

Sebazhan pauses a moment, breathing in deeply as if sampling the air, then says, "It seems like a pocket of uncertainty. An oasis. A little piece of Sinai … just left in a terrible mess."

"It doesn't feel like the garden?" Willow slowly circles the room, judging the sized of the crystals and checking to see if there are any that look small enough to carry.

Sebazhan pauses again, then says, "Hmm. No … I didn't notice anything happening in the garden. And … you did give that statue a pretty good look this time. I can't explain it."

There are a few that are small enough to carry, but none that are small enough to realistically hope to conceal – at least, not anywhere within reach. The hosts don't seem to be quite that trusting of those who might linger in here.

"Perhaps the statues had been previously set up to try and trap me, or someone's coming over and they're sweeping the dust under their rug … or they're onto us, and if that's the case it's too late to do anything except continue with the plan and hope they don't know everything. Best get started." Willow circles the room again. "I'm going to see if I can build a barricade so that if they manage to get in here, we can have something to use for cover against any potshots."

Sebazhan says, "But Light-of-Star has not been here since you last visited. Unless there are other mages here – or others capable of using his powers – there is no way they could do anything with what is magical."

Sebazhan snaps his fingers. "Unless … unless it's simply because Light-of-Star isn't here, and hasn't been here for a while. Magic needs to be recharged. You can store up energy for a while, to be released when it's 'triggered' by something … but it can't just keep going indefinitely. Magic needs a mage to keep stirring it up. And if Light-of-Star is off in a contest … he's not here using the crystals and 'casting' spells, or however he's using them."

Willow kneels down in the center of the chamber. "I hope that's the case. I doubt he's the type to let cronies in on his big scheme, especially if he can get them to follow him with other methods." She shivers for a moment at a distant memory. "He doesn't strike me as much of a pirate captain."

Sebazhan keeps setting up his circle, and Willow can feel the magic starting, as the crystals resonate with the energies of his incantations. The purple crystal in particular lights up, letting off a low hum, and the other crystals appear to react in various degrees throughout the chamber.

"Blink, if you can still talk … do you see a crystal here that might involve chaos magic? I've got an idea." She rubs her nose and eyes the locked door.

Sebazhan continues his chanting for a while, then, in gaps between "beats" of having to keep up chants, he quickly says, "… I'm not sure … (chant) … That would require some testing … (chant) … though if this shadow crystal … (chant) … is purple, odds are a … (chant) … chaos crystal might change … (chant) … colors?"

At first glance, no color-changing crystals immediately present themselves. But then, it's a big room.

"Thanks." Willow checks to see how much time remains and then goes circling the chamber to try and find such a crystal.

It takes several minutes of hunting around, poking around, and nearly getting nicked by some of the sharper crystals … but Willow's keen senses (and stubbornness) pay off. She finds an oddly shaped crystal that is fairly lumpy at the base, but with a sharp blade-like top, looking like a cross between a candlestick and a dagger, that changes colors and flickers at seemingly random intervals.

Meanwhile, the "buzzing" in Willow's head is more distinct, as Sebazhan's magic is being powered and amplified in some mystical way by the purple crystal.

The Skreek hefts the crystal, testing its weight. Next on the agenda will be setting up a barricade to protect her and Sebazhan in case some errant shots end up in the chamber. she looks around for materials – more pedestals, chunks of crystal small enough to move but large enough to stack up and potentially hide behind, or even a table.

The crystal might conceivably be able to cause much bodily harm to someone if presented with the blunt or the sharp end, but it is not weighted as a weapon, and would probably shatter if used to block a blow. As for barricade material, there are actually several pedestals and even some benches that can be shoved about. It looks like Willow has her work cut out for her.

"Well, I've got an hour to work with. Let's make the best of it. Sebazhan, just to warn you I might be making a bit of noise… ," and with that she starts dragging one of the benches towards the door as the first step to making her barricade.

Sebazhan hardly makes any response at all. He's gotten into a fairly deep part of his spell … the part of the ritual where he's pretty much sealed off from the world, and where interrupting him would probably result in undesirable results. What sort of results? Who knows? It's one of those annoying things about magic, but odds are, it'd attract attention, and maybe even knock poor Sebazhan out. Fortunately, at this sort of state, it's pretty difficult to break his concentration.

Or, that is, it would be fortunate in most cases, except that one could argue that he might be interested in knowing that one of the doors is opening up at the moment. It would seem that someone is about to disturb the Dacks before they have properly finished their meditating.

Swallowing, Willow quickly sets the bench upright and kneels down beside it, trying to look as though she simply moved it to be able to pray close to her husband as she warily watches the door. ( They've never seen magic before. Hopefully I can bluff them into thinking this is part of the 'meditations'… )

The door slides open, and in strides a regal-looking female cheetah, with cascades of black, curly hair spilling down her shoulders, and an ornate circlet upon her brow, framing a glassy bauble set in the middle of her forehead, with radiating spires of metal that each terminate in clasps that hold carved sections of ivory or perhaps moonstone. She walks with an imperial bearing, and shows not the least bit of surprise or concern at the scene she walks in on.

Her bluff forgotten, Willow rises up slowly. Her first impulse is to cry out, but she neither wants to draw more attention to the scene, nor does she wish to distract her husband. She wants to say something nonchalant, something absent like "I'm sorry, but I thought we were going to have our privacy," … but the words don't come.

As Willow gets a chance to look directly at the woman, rather than just out of the corner of her eyes whilst pretending to pray, she is met with the unmistakable familiarity of that visage. The face of this woman is that of Jezebel – or Third-Vision – and the bauble in the middle of her forehead is in fact but a frame about a milky white, blind eye. The face is that of Jezebel, but her eyes show no recognition as she looks upon Willow … no emotion, either, just a cold, implacable gaze, as if it might as well be the moons of Zion looking down on Willow just now.

The Skreek's gaze falls from the eye to the cheetah's lips, a spot where she remembers seeing a scar so long ago. Some anchor that proves that she's only staring at an artificial construct, a fake. It hurts just to look at her as the memories flood back, but she forces herself to study the face … to look for the truth.

As nonsensical as it might seem, on a form that seems so perfectly formed even in the malformity of a third eye, there is the scar on the lip, precisely as Willow remembers it. But before Willow has so much time as to draw a breath upon this realization, another enters the room – For a moment, it seems as if nothing so much as the statue from the garden come to life – the chiseled perfection of an idealized cheetah form, standing seemingly taller than any Savanite or Silent-One Willow has known, with a light mark on his forehead matching the spot where Jezebel has an eye. He, in contrast to Jezebel, is not quite cold. He's smug, if anything, and utterly ignores Sebazhan – just as Sebazhan is oblivious to his entry – as he looks directly at Willow.

Out of the corner of Willow's eye, there's a flicker of a shadow. That and the buzzing in Willow's head seems to suggest that Sebazhan's spell is nearing its completion.

( All I have to do is keep from going mad in the next few minutes and then they'll be locked up in here with me. Oh Star … how I just want to run and scream right now until my throat pops… ) The Skreek steps around the bench and draws her hands into her pockets. "Well, are you going to say anything or will we just stand here and stare at one another?"

Light-of-Star's smug grin turns into a smile, and then he signs, "I was simply allowing you a moment to adjust to the truth of the moment. It was a bold and daring plan. The parade. The visit. Even using the crystals," he gestures about the room with one hand, then continues, "but there was one flaw in the whole plan. One little problem. Right there in your head."

"What do you mean?" Willow's tail switches back and forth. "The fact that I'm more affected by your powers?" She's trying very hard not to look at Light-of-Star's companion. "Come on … you're obviously here to gloat, so go ahead and gloat."

Light-of-Star signs, "Yes, I will freely admit it. I am here to gloat. It is not enough to merely crush you and be done with it. You have dared to oppose me – me! You have committed the unpardonable sin. You have committed blasphemy against the Star." All the while, his face is still a grin, not a visage of anger. He looks as if he's entirely – and almost obscenely – enjoying every passing moment. "Events have already been set into motion – made possible by you, my little spy. No one yet knows that a new Archon has been selected. No one who will live to tell anyone, that is. No, there will be a great and glorious battle, as the enemies of the People attempt to disrupt the announcing of our new leader. Sadly, many great heroes will die in this battle … but the Light of the Star will emerge victorious. And, being as grand as the Star is … ," the cheetah's grin becomes more wicked, "he will even bring those heroes back to life."

All the while, Jezebel just stands there, more a statue than a living being, and Sebazhan's chants continue in the background. As the power culminates, the buzzing in Willow's head is almost unbearable … except for the gravity of the situation she is presently in.

Willow's tail lashes as an outlet for the bubbling feelings. All she wants to do is curl up and scream … but she can't … not now. "You think you're so scruddy smart. You think you know just about scruddy everything, don't you." She finally forces herself to look at Jezebel. "What about your bride there? Is she a clone as well? I saw the real Third-Vision's body back on Sinai, although I'll admit that this is a pretty Dagh impressive copy."

Light-of-Star's grin doesn't fade in the least. "Ah, yes, you're on to me. That she is – a clone. And I have cloned many others, and I will clone many more. It's a most impressive technology. It brings a whole new meaning to 'making friends', don't you think? Oh yes … and, actually, I do know just about scruddy everything. And I have the power to do something about it, too." He looks over toward Sebazhan, and holds his right hand up, fingers together, as if about to snap his fingers.

The Skreek knows enough about magic to know the danger of a botched ritual, and a feeling of protectiveness wells up inside of her as she sees Sebazhan about to become the object of an attack. In that instant she loses all rational thought – in that moment she's just a bolt of pure instinct and emotion. Her hand shoots out from her pocket, clutching the stunner as she leaps at Light-of-Star in a wild attack.

In that split second, Willow realizes that, somehow – and it defies rational explanation – she has the crystal "dagger" in her hand, sharp end out, as she lunges for Light-of-Star. The buzzing in her head is painful at this point, and even in this split second, before any recognition of danger can reach Light-of-Star, she catches his leering grin, mocking her.

Willow tries twisting her hand before impact, hoping at least to strike with the blunt end of the weapon instead of the sharp end. She wants this man to see justice, and not only by her.

There's a crack as the blunt end impacts …

…

"Ow!" cries Sebazhan, as he lurches forward from the impact of Willow slamming into him. The Skreek skids past him, sliding across the floor, narrowly missing the outside ring of his magical circle.

Willow sits up abruptly and looks around. "Where is he? Oh Dagh … did I just interrupt the ritual?"

There is no Light-of-Star. No Jezebel. Just a barricade of benches, a crystal "dagger" lying on the floor near Willow … and Sebazhan sitting in the center of his circle, rubbing the back of his head. He gasps … then mutters a few more incantations … and stops. He takes a deep breath, then says, "No, you didn't. What happened?"

The buzzing in Willow's head fades away entirely.

"That filthy mind-raping bastard!" Willow punches a fist into the floor and then curls up, breaking down into trembling sobs.

Sebazhan gets up, wide-eyed. "I … mind-rape … By the Star … " He looks around, as if expecting to see soldiers charging in … but the doors are still closed. In fact, the lighted crystals on the panels next to the doors are darkened … and crashes and other sounds of chaos can be heard past the doors. He lets out a breath, then carefully steps out of the circle and rushes over to Willow. "Are you all right? That is … "

"I almost killed you … oh Star. I almost stabbed you with the crystal… and Third-Vision was there. He had to rub my nose in it." The Skreek gets up and throws her arms around the Khatta. "I'm sorry … I'm so sorry."

Sebazhan, still looking a bit dazed, puts a supporting arm around Willow. "It's all right. It's all right. We knew something was bound to happen, sooner or later. Just not when or how."

The Skreek puts a hand to Sebazhan's cheek and kisses him in the manner that people do when they're full of emotion and relieved at the same time. She slowly releases him and leans on the bench. "You'd best get back to work. We still need to conjure up a distraction to give the guards something else to shoot at. I'll finish the barricade."

Sebazhan nods, looking a bit shaken. "Right." He gives Willow another concerned look, then reluctantly returns to his supplies and gets back to work.

Willow no longer has much concern about being discovered. Instead she focuses on piling up the benches and loose chunks of crystals as rapidly as she can to build up a barricade. She starts knocking over some of the pedestals and piling them in front of the door as well to make entering the room a bit more difficult.

This work continues for some time. Since this is a Silent-Ones station, there are no screams or shouts to indicate a state of panic elsewhere in the station, but there are still many sounds of rushing about, and the humming and whining of machines and the rush of air from air vents has halted entirely. (Shutting off life support wasn't part of Sebazhan's plan, but that eventuality was covered in the attack plans – If it were shut off, the station would still be habitable for quite some time afterward, and the gravity is caused by rotation, not artificial "grav plates".)

The room is still illuminated, thanks to the crystals, and by that illumination, Willow is able to see, some time later, when she's just about moved everything that can be moved … shadowy spirits flitting about, passing through walls and floors and ceilings. And outside, she can hear the muffled pat-pat of small arms fire.

Satisfied with her barricade, Willow does all she can for now. She sets a few paltry objects at her spot behind the barricade to be used as missiles to throw as well as some of her old throwing daggers. As she listens to the noises outside she starts to work on a few improvised fire projectiles made out of her medical supplies and some of Sebazhan's magical supplies as well. As she works she quietly whispers her prayers to the true Star, asking for protection and mercy.

Even once the "shades" are let loose, Sebazhan keeps working on more spells for as long as he can do so without interruption. Outside, more commotion can be heard – and there are reverberations through the walls as it sounds like heavy things colliding with them – perhaps the boarding assault shuttles, taking on the hazardous task of trying to latch onto the outer rim, in order to blast holes through, and send troops in.

The Skreek hugs herself in the dim light as she listens to the noise outside. "She had a scar on her lip. Can you clone a scar?"

There's a loud banging on the door. Three knocks. A pause. Three more. A pause. Three more. Not very creative, but that's the secret knock. Not that Willow has any way of opening the door at this point.

Willow drags herself up and picks her way to the door. "I'm okay, and so is Sebazhan!" she shouts through the door, hoping she can be heard on the other side. "We're stuck, but Sebazhan might be able to open it with some work, or I could. Knock once if you need us to come out, and twice if we should stay put!"

There's a pause, then, one bang … two bangs.

"We'll hold up then. One knock for yes and two for no – is the battle going alright?" The Skreek crosses her fingers.

There's one bang on the door.

Sebazhan gets up from his circle. "I'm at a good stopping point. Do we need to move?"

"Good going! Now listen… make sure you secure the security area out here. It is essential that youconfiscate the recordings from the security cameras here, understand?" Willow rubs her nose. "No, Sebazhan. Keep it up, it looks like things are going fine. Besides, you can finally get these past few weeks with no magic out of your system."

Sebazhan grins. "As you wish, Madame!" He executes a quick bow, then goes back to business. Meanwhile, there's a single knock at the door.

"Good!" the Skreek shouts through the door. "Keep a guard here if you can spare it. We don't have anything besides stunners and some rocks to throw if we're attacked. Meanwhile we'll do what we can to keep the mischief up. Good luck! We'll be waiting for you to come back and tell us when it's safe to come out."

There is a single knock in response … and then, save for the occasional sounds of combat outside, Willow and Sebazhan are undisturbed for the next few hours…

"We caught them with their trousers down," boasts a cheetah warrior, as he strides down the corridor, alongside the Dacks. The illumination is back on, and through an open doorway to one side of the hall, some technicians can be seen extracting the data-modules from the unwieldy security system. There are a few signs of battle here and there, but by and large it seems that most of the "defenders" gave up without much of a fight. Here and there can be seen torn-open panels where explosive devices were defused and removed before power was restored. It would seem that if a straight-forward approach were used to taking the station … all evidence would have been quickly eradicated … no doubt blaming the invaders for the resultant destruction and bloodshed.

So far as Willow has been able to pick up, the "parade" of vessels was not required to join in with the assault – but better safe than sorry.

"What about the cloning chambers? Did they survive?" Willow leans tiredly against Sebazhan's side, although at the same time she's rigid and tense, as though expecting something to blow up in her face despite the reassurances.

The warrior looks back to Willow. "We've only opened a few of them. The power outage seems to have triggered some sort of deadlock mechanism – but, thankfully, no traps that we've run into yet. We've gotten into a few of the chambers. I think we have ample evidence." He comes to a stop in front of a passageway – the same one thatWillow sneaked into earlier, thanks to her quick thinking when a janitor had happened upon her. Some technicians stand aside, and he gestures to the door, signing, "We thought this might interest you."

Inside the doorway is a long corridor, and though some of the lights flicker here and there at various segments, it can be clearly seen that there are several suspended vats. Their contents, at first glance, seem not to have changed since Willow's previous visit.

Willow looks questioningly to the warrior and shrugs herself from her husband's shoulder. She hugs her arms to one another and walks into the opening and slowly steps down the open corridor. "What is it? I've been here already… "

The cheetah seems to be fairly disappointed. "Ah. Well … this looks like what had been described to me as… " He gestures toward the large tank containing an oversized golden Naga. Yes, Willow has seen it before. It's just that the lighting is better now. Ah well. Can't have a melodramatic climax every time.

Sebazhan, however, raises his eyebrows several degrees. "I am glad I am not an Imperial courtier."

The Skreek wipes her hand against the moisture on the glass of the tank. "Is it alive in there?"

"Yes," answers the cheetah. "The tanks are operating by chemical processes and, in essence, have their own power supplies. They were unaffected by the measures taken to pacify the station."

Sebazhan's ears flick at the suggestion. "That … is a relief."

The cheetah continues, "We found more … though it's a bit of a walk."

"Have you found one that looks like a female of your people with a third eye in the center of her head?" Her words are cold as she watches the glass fog around her fingers pressed against its surface.

The cheetah starts at this, then shakes his head. "No, we have not, Lady Dack. But we have not explored the entirety of the station yet. There is still some interference with our equipment, slowing down our progress. We have not yet entered the private chambers of the heretic."

"Well, when you're able to I wish to come along. I've had ghosts haunting me long enough and it's time to start dealing with them." She looks back to the large Naga. "Get some doctors that know about this kind of technology in here and start waking these people up. Try and revive the less dangerous ones first and we'll see if it's safe to wake up the big gold one. I'm sure he'll be popular with the Nagai Imperium out here in space." She turns back around and grips onto Sebazhan's arm again.

The cheetah nods. "We will be most careful with them. Right now, we mostly have technicians here. It will take a little longer for properly trained medical personnel to set up here, since they were not involved in the initial acquisition of the Palace." He starts moving along.

"And make sure someone gets to Zion and arrests Light-of-Star! Make sure he doesn't have any crystals on him and put him someplace secure until someone can scruddy put him on trial." The Skreek realizes that she's grinding her teeth and pauses to rub them with her tongue. "As for now, I think all I want to do is lay down for awhile."

Willow does get a chance to lie down for a while, as control of the station partially passes from assault troopers and combat engineers over to medical personnel and better-equipped technicians to puzzle over the business of what to do with some of the station's more … exotic occupants.

Sebazhan has been all but dragged off by scientists trying to make sense of crystal structures in the Crystal Cathedral and in certain locations elsewhere in the station. So it is that when Willow is summoned to come witness the opening of the private chambers of Light-of-Star, she's brought alone.

The antechamber outside the multi-pronged door is filled with numerous warriors – some in power armor – technicians and scientists … the latter ready to pounce on whatever is uncovered inside, as soon as the bomb squad determines that it's safe.

The door is slowly splitting open, much like the separating shards of a Gateway window, only in a much more regular and less spectacular fashion … and with the goading of groaning machines rigged up to force them open.

Willow simply watches for now until the chambers are open. Her tail flicking back and forth is the only thing that distinguishes her from a statue as she watches. ( Thought you knew scruddy everything. I hope that they do to you whatever it is they do to rapists on this world… )

The door is pried open, revealing a circular portal, accessed by steps leading up from the main floor of the antechamber, into a darkened interior chamber. There is a flickering of lights as technicians work with the power conduits, and then they settle into a steady glow, illuminating a scene of lavish decadence that might seem appropriate for a self-appointed god, except that the decorative appointments make the idols in the garden look tame by comparison.

It is a picture of decadence, full of silk and gold fittings, jade and ivory, every last thing ornamented and decorated, and so many fixtures formed into the shapes of feline women. There's something perhaps insane about this room. It is not merely an indulgence in tantalizing imagery for self-gratification. No, perhaps, in a way, these are of religious import. This seems, if nothing else, a shrine to self-indulgence, carefully arranged in meticulous manner.

A team of warriors and technicians moves in, methodically checking the central chamber and the smaller chambers that branch off from it for traps or other surprises.

Nothing explodes, nothing goes off. Perhaps Light-of-Star was not comfortable with the prospect of having his most private sanctuary laden with booby-traps.

Willow relaxes somewhat as she soaks in the scene. It's another sign to her that Light-of-Star was only a mortal man… a very very sick man, but a man nonetheless. She starts her own room inspection, looking for a journal or anything else that might be a recording of Light-of-Star's opinions and activities.

As Willow looks about the room, she finds a number of finely crafted holders for pieces of Sifran crystal, especially complex in their structure, with countless "veins" running through them, and glowing with an inner light. For the three crystals on bases, however, there are two bases that are missing their trophies.

The Skreek taps one of the bases. "Hey, somebody contact the group going to arrest Light-of-Star. It looks like he might have some Sifran crystals with him and can use them to cast magic. He'll probably use it as an excuse to claim maltreatment at our hands, but I suggest that someone call in and give the order that he should be stripped down to make sure he's not hiding them anywhere. Might see if there's a way to knock him out from a distance before he's arrested." She hesitantly touches one of the remaining crystals, too frightened to pick it up just yet.

The crystal lights up faintly at Willow's touch … but she doesn't feel any sort of "buzz" in her head in response. Not, that is, that she has been feeling any buzzing in her head, come to think of it, after that little "episode" back in the Crystal Cathedral. None of Sebazhan's other spells provoked so much as a "ping" in Willow's head. While she examines the crystals, one of the cheetah soldiers waves to the others, "Found something! Bring a doctor!" He then ducks into one of the rear chambers, inside which can be seen a large spherical structure that occupies a significant portion of the room.

The crystal is completely forgotten for now and Willow quickly dashes after the soldier into the chamber. "What is it?"

As Willow moves in, she can see that the spherical object's outer shell is formed by twining cables – and spines of some sort that don't serve any immediately obvious purpose, other than to enclose the interior, glassy shell.

The Skreek can only scratch her head. "What is it? Some giant scrying sphere? Might explain how he was able to see so scruddy much."

Some technicians come in and kneel down, working with what appear to be the controls. There is a buzzing, humming noise … and the spines enwrapping the shell alternately splay open like the opening petals of a flower, or retract, disappearing behind the orb. Inside the glassy, roughly spherical shape … is a humanoid figure, seemingly floating in a mass of cables and tubes. Although her face is obscured by a mask of sorts that covers her nose and mouth, it does not take much imagination to fill in the missing details. It looks like Jezebel … or something very much like her.

Unlike Willow's "vision" earlier, though, she has not the least bit of a regal bearing, evidently unconscious and suspended in the machine. Furthermore, she sports a grotesque addition – Six arms, just like the statue in the garden. It remains to be seen whether these are functional appendages, or some sort of macabre decoration thanks to toying with genetics.

Something inside of Willow burns, a cross between anger and a dozen other emotions that she can't even think to name. "Can she be revived right now?" the Skreek grunts out.

"Possibly," signs one of the medical specialists. "But if there are any problems, we will have to sedate her immediately. It appears that she is fully developed, but is in some sort of stasis."

"Then go to it. I'll wait right here." Willow's tail lashes more wildly. ( It's not her. It's just a freak in a glass cage with her face. A monster, probably just like him. )

The doctor looks to Willow a moment longer, as if to make sure she hasn't any more to add, then turns to his aides. They set to work, monitoring gauges and setting controls. The machine throbs to life, and there is a stirring inside the sphere. The glassy surface slides, then opens like a translucent eyelid. Fluids rush through transparent tubes, and the body moves a bit … then jerks and convulses.

The Skreek stiffly walks to stand in front of the figure. She's faced demons and dark gods and pirates and angry mobs … she can face this. And deep down she wants to be the first thing it sees upon waking up.

The process goes on for some time longer, as the medical technicians exchange hand-waves full of technical jargon or alien words that Willow can't make much sense of … and if she'd not been a healer herself, it would be total gibberish.

But for all she can tell from glances out of the edges of her vision, it would seem as if they're actually getting this device to work. This is evidenced, as some of the tubes and cables retract, at last leaving the creature free of such supports, seated in an odd sort of chair or throne, though her eyes are still closed.

"Wake up," Willow barks out, probably a few measures harsher than she should. Her knees hurt from standing so still and rigid for so long, and the little bit of pain hasn't help her tone.

The lips of the creature part – lips free from any sort of scar – and it takes a breath. Slowly, two eyes open … hesitantly, as the pupils are dilated, and they flicker several times, adjusting to the light.

"Sign to us your name. Who are you? And do you know where you are now?" The Skreek's tail cuts through the air like tense whip.

Although the eyes do not seem to be focused on Willow, it would seem that the creature's ears are functional, and two of its hands … no, three … fumble to form signs. It's not a very graceful sight. "Three … Eye," it manages to sign out.

The Skreek's teeth grind again. "How did you come to be here?"

Suddenly, the third eye snaps open, blindly looking at Willow. The hands stop their fumbling. There is a pause, and then, "My mind is full of shadows," two of the hands sign. "I do not know."

"Then what do you remember?" Willow turns to look at one of the doctors. "Can you give her anything to help her see? I want her to be able to see me."

One of the physicians brushes some stray hair aside, as she'd been leaning over the consoles, then signs, "The eyes just need a little time to adjust. It looks like this equipment is fully functional, despite local problems with interference."

The Skreek nods and waits for the creature's reply.

"My hands?" the creature signs. Two of the hands start touching the others, as they twitch and fumble about. They recoil, then sign, "What is this? What have you done to me?"

"Lower the lights in here," one of the physicians instructs a technician. The technician nods and the lights dim considerably, though the consoles are still illuminated, and there's still more than enough for Willow's keen eyes to see by.

"We found you like this. I'm sure the doctors can remove them and cover up your extra eye given time. Now calm down and answer my question. What is the last thing that you remember?" The Skreek swallows. ( It's not spouting praises to Light-of-Star at least… but it could just be an act. )

"I remember … death? … and Paradise … except that a mockery sat on the throne. I remember feelings that were not my own. I remember … NO! No more lies! Leave me alone! Get out of my head!" The signing becomes especially erratic and violent toward the end of that. It looks as if two of the hands are definitely the favored pair, as the others just seem to follow in vague echoes of their movements. One of the hands reaches up, feeling through the curly black hair, running along the middle of the scalp.

Willow shakes her head. "I remember the funeral, I remember seeing what they did to the body and how it looked after they left it up for the scavengers to pick at and the peasants to deface for weeks. Not even the greatest life mages of the City of Hands could restore it fully for the funeral. You are not the person that died. You can't be. You may think you are, but you're not." She sniffs slightly but forces the emotion in. Her pride won't allow this thing to see her cry.

The creature's eyes slowly open. "Then I know not who I am," the hands sign. "I remember so many dreams, I do not know what is real. Maybe this is another."

"Then it's a dream for both of us, or maybe a nightmare. But as far as I know it's quite real." Willow motions to one of the technicians. "Turn the lights up a bit. We'll see how her eyes are doing."

The technician nods, and the lights brighten a fraction. The creature's eyes focus on Willow's face.

"Damn it all. I don't even know what to say. Talking to Dagh was easier than this." Willow takes a moment just to breathe and try to slow her heartbeat to a pace where it doesn't feel as though its about to leap from her chest.

"You are from my dreams," the creature signs. "You were sad because you did not know your sisters. But you were glad to find one. We signed of the Star. We cried." The creature's eyes tear up. "But that was just another dream?"

The female doctor squeezes in next to the creature, probing her with instruments, taking measurements, while another takes notes. The creature seems almost oblivious to it, as if it were part of some routine.

The Skreek stares intently at the floor. "It was real. Imet Third-Vision in the Himaat while she was on her way to her honeymoon. I converted to the Star that day. Probably five years ago now. I suppose I should be flattered that I aged so scruddy well." She brushes a hand through her white-streaked hair.

"Third-Vision," the creature repeats. "That was someone else. But I have her dreams. I remember the Creen-ship. I remember my – her husband. He … he … tried to stop them."

"They took her. They tortured her," the creature signs, then sinks back. "They killed her."

"SHUT UP! You think I don't know that! You think I wanted to hear that?" Willow scrubs her arm across her face. "Thank you so very dearly for that bit of truth. I'll sleep so much better now that I know that the dearestperson to me was tortured and murdered and I was helpless to stop it! Maybe if I had gone to Abaddon things would have been different. Maybe if I had gone to the City of Hands with her things would have been different… but I had to go and be scruddy selfish and leave. The only thing that kept me from killing myself when I heard the news was that I heard it on the day before my wedding, which she never got to see. The only thing that keeps me from killing myself now is my daughter, and it hurts to call her by her name because I named her after that woman that I loved so much." The Skreek is seething, trembling…

The creature recoils, its face going through a variety of emotions – shock, fear, shame … and maybe even a moment of anger. A good deal of the work on the chamber stops at Willow's outburst. One of the doctors signs, "Maybe we should continue our tests, and call for you… ?"

The Skreek presses her palm against her eye. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault… I've no right to take it out on you. I'm just looking for someone to be angry at. Just … it's scruddy hard, alright? I don't claim to be righteous or to have perfect control. It's a very big pit I've dug and there's still a lot of garbage in it."

The creature nods, with a sober expression, sits through some more prodding and probing … then, a serious expression crosses its face. The six-armed cheetah abruptly stands up … and nearly stumbles forward on its legs, leaning on the sides of the structure … then starts to walk out.

Willow takes a step back. "Where are you going?"

"Out," signs the creature. "This particular episode has lasted longer than usual, so I figure I may as well wander. If this is just another dream, you'll yank me out of it and into your next device for trying to mold my brain to worship … It. If it's not a dream … " The creature shrugs. "… then I'll have to think of a better excuse."

The Skreek feels sick to her stomach – a mix of guilt for her outburst and the remaining shreds of her anger. "The one you're talking about is hopefully in custody by now. And considering that there's armed guards around here, you should be careful where you go. I suspect that the embodiment of a goddess after they came here to fight a god might provoke some unpleasant reactions. We … we should at least drape a blanket over you or something." She rubs her head. "Oh Star, how am I going to explain this one to Jade-Eyes?"

The creature stops in mid-stride, looking back to Willow. "Is she here? Where is she?"

The doctors hand-wave protests at their uncooperative subject, and catch up with the creature. "I believe we may have to sedate her," one signs to Willow.

"She's back on Zion watching after my daughter. I wasn't sure if we were going to come back, and the Twelve have made such a muck of things that I didn't want anything to happen to her that might allow them to put another person in charge that lets them run wild," the Skreek sighs and nods to the doctor, holding up a finger to indicate that they wait. "And in case you don't remember, my name's Willow-the-Wisp – although there's a 'Dack' tacked onto the end now. You should probably let the doctors look at you. At the very least they might be able to figure out a way to get rid of your extra arms, and there might be some bad after effects from taking you out of that … machine … thing."

The creature looks to Willow, and signs, "Yes. Willow-the-Wisp. And 'Foxfire', too. But that is only for your friends to call you that."

Just then, a warrior strides in from the outside. He pauses a moment to recover from the sight of the six-armed creature walking about … but there are plenty other strange things to see in this "Palace". He turns to Willow, bows, then signs, "Lady Dack, I am pleased to report that the heretic has been apprehended. He attempted some manner of sorcery to facilitate an escape attempt, but was subdued."

The Skreek's hand clenches in a fist and opens again. She jerks as if stabbed. "I'm trying my best here. It's taking all I can to not run screaming from this room, but I'd regret it later and it would be unfair to you. You're a victim, and I've got no right to hate you. It's just that … well … how would you have felt if you'd heard that I'd died after we met, attended my funeral, named your daughter after me, and then found out that someone was making a copy of me for some horrible purpose? I'm sorry that I'm not rushing to embrace you and recall old times, but it's hard. I am grateful that you look to have your own mind, that you apparently have managed to fight him. It might be what made him delay his master plan and allow us to come and deal with things here. Just… don't bite at me. No matter how angry I get, I don't think I deserve it."

Willow acknowledges the announcement of Light-of-Star's capture with a weak head nod and an even weaker smile.

The creature looks to the warrior, then back to Willow, then signs, "It is not my intention to bite at you. And I am sorry for what difficulty I must present to you. I am struggling as well, and I apologize for any thoughtlessness on my part as I attempt to put ideas to sign."

The warrior bows again to Willow, pointedly does not look in the direction of the creature, and departs from the room.

The Skreek nods sluggishly. "I'm very tired, and I'm sure you are likewise. Please, let the doctors finish looking at you. We'll both talk easier with clearer heads." ( I hope Sebazhan isn't too busy right now, because I think I need a handkerchief that can hug me right now. I doubt I want to get drunk in a place like this. )