Chapter 3 The Banished Prince

The halls of Eltonweil stirred quietly as the dreams of ambition rolled through the minds of the crew. Thoughts of praise and recognition found parapets and soared. The potential of the discoveries within discoveries had all congregated in the hold of the biomass that could be the yellow brick road to power and glory.

Osma slept silently by his wife with a wistful smile on his face. To celebrate their possibilities, the lovers had a little mixer and tuckered themselves out. He was sure that the captain would reprimand them in the morning, but his sleep would not be bothered by such things as the young officer's reproach.

However, while he slept in solace, Mem could not even close her eyes. She wanted to sleep. She felt tired, so tired, but she couldn't just fall under Orpheus' song of slumber. Not wishing to disturb her husband, she carefully removed her legs from the weave they had made amongst the damp sheets. Thankfully, Osma was a heavy sleeper unlike the captain who seem to wake from the slightest sound from the opposite room. She walked across the room, bare as the day she was born. Mem felt her skin glisten with goose bumps from the cool air. Ignoring the slight discomfort she grabbed a metal chair, sat it by the window, sat down and looked out in the darkness that space made 99.9% of.

As she looked out into the void from her quarters, Mem slightly wished they were back on Ori. These long voyages at space were only exciting at the beginning and when a new discovery was made. These four years off-world had made the young Orian woman long for solid ground beneath her, the sand between her toes, a home in gale of the wind.

What a lovely thought.

Mem almost fell off the chair. Was that her thought or something else? She looked around to seen Osma still asleep, his snores synonymous with a sound of a Nicolin bear. Besides, the tone that had rung in her voice did not sound as gruff as the average Orian species. Nothing like she had heard before.

I wouldn't have guessed many have heard my voice in some time.

The botanist turned and looked around the room. Other than herself and Osma, not a visual soul had entered the room. She calmed herself and pulled a knife off the dresser. The darkness of the bedroom shrouded everything in mystery. Mem remembered her study at the University of the Assassins that made up the Roloian Black Wind. If her new acquaintance was one of them, she would never have been the wiser. But why would the killer have a conversation with her mind? Could it be that she was just imagining this? Could this all be a hallucination brought upon by loss of sleep, sex, and small dose of alcohol?

I wish. I haven't had any of those for many an eon. Though the alcohol would probably the most appreciated.

Where are you? Mem thought.

Obviously not in the same room with you.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She had read in books of people being talked to by unseen forces. You read those things but you pass them of as fantasy; Funny things that could happen when you're buzzed. Again, Mem looked around the room for any hidden mikes. The possibility was not farfetched. Her sister had done something similar to her boyfriend and it was all on tape for their families' viewing pleasure.

How I wish it was all just a novella. I could make an ending, a true ending that could suit me. The way the story of the last pure Son of Ildrama.

Mem brought her knife up. Ildrama! That was impossible! Both of the ancient empires that had spread from Ildrama had vanished epochs ago. The War between the two had destroyed a galaxy. Only one had come out the victor, completely whipping out the original race that had once populated the world. The Black Arms had then left their enemy in ruins to conquer what remained of the Old Empire.

Pure Son? Mem thought back. What do mean by that?

Hearty laughter came from the other end of the link. The young Ori tired to imagine the body the voice belonged to. She couldn't. The soft caressing of his voice seemed to defy her imagination as she tried to mold the sound into a persona she could understand. My brethren, were eliminated from power ages ago. I am the last who remembers the glory days, when our ancient enemy had yet to be born.

Her heart began to rise in pace. The implications of what he was saying were infallible. The Black Arms had wiped any trace of the Old People from modern knowledge. Only legends persisted. This could be the greatest discovery since the early days of space travel!

Mem slipped on some more science worthy cloths, and traded in the knife for her stunner in case some one interrupted her while she made the scientific leap of the millennia. The voice guided her to his location. He led her all over the ship. When she reached a point he would simply tell her to turn around so he could pinpoint where she was again. Though it was annoying, she could understand that while it appeared they were completely still, the Eltonweil was moving at several light-years though the void. His mental powers might have the ability to track her at such speeds.

She thanked God that the ship was asleep. The last thing she needed know was any of the security patrol droids alerting the captain of her unauthorized jaunt through the whole damn ship. The noise would not only be annoying, but attract way to much attention from too many on edge scientist.

Do not tarry, he warned her, calmly and coolly. I cannot lose you to any form incarceration. You're the only one whose brainwaves were receptacle to mine.

Her heart soared. She had never felt so important, so needed. Her family had been pretty much well off. She had had to work every now and then for a little extra money to keep in middle school but otherwise, her life had been relatively easy and dull. Now, someone needed her. For what, she did not know. At this point, she didn't care. This could be here chance. As long as she could learn what she could about the Old Ones, this would all pay off in the end, consequences be damned!

I like that about you.

Mem followed the voice deeper and deeper into the craft. He was getting louder. She must be getting closer. It was almost like he was echoing off the clean metal walls. However, as she got closer, no matter how warm and jovial he seemed, the Orian couldn't shake the feeling that she shouldn't be here; that this whole effort was wrong. Wrong in what way was completely unknown to her.

Finally.

She turned a corner and gasped in shock. The door before her would lead the young scientist to her greatest discovery. She had been here earlier yesterday, as it was well past midnight upon the ship's clock. All that she could wonder was if? It couldn't possibly be what her mind began to entertain. The thought was ludicrous in the fact that it was substantial.

You're a smart one.

In front of her, was the observation deck to the biomass.

The discovery of the millennia awaited her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

BEEP BEEP BEEP

There was no other sound in existence that was more annoying. It was the center of all creation's hatred. Why? WHY! Whoever had invented the blasted things should be drug out into space and thrown into a star. A hell of his own to populate after the hell he had sentenced the populace to after making a clock with the ability to shrill and sing and do whatever the hell was needed to wake the poor fool of person who had bought the damn thing.

He took his left arm and smashed his hand on the thing. He hoped it didn't break like the predecessor. The last thing he needed was to go out—God forbid that ever happening—and buy a new one. This one had served him deviously well the past three years and though it was really an incarnation of Satan, it worked.

He pulled off the sheets and stood onto the water. His room had been decorated so that there was an illusion of there being water right beside his bed for him to walk on. The fabrication had been a big hit at parties, that was, of course, when he still entertained. He could make the scene be anything he wanted. The best part was that he could make it appear to be anything. The black sand of Goyip was one that strangely enough didn't get used as often in his home as it had been advertised it would be.

Nevertheless, he stretched and entered back into the days worth of troubles of living as a hermit. Though, he thanked the thrice damned fame and fortune of his that he didn't actually have to live in a smelly cave like a real hermit. He would make especially sure that this was never a stinky hole. Not the best thing for public hygiene.

He put on some pajama pants and a t-shirt with the words 'screw you' emblazoned upon it in Russian. He had bought the shirt a couple of years ago under a different name so the delivery people wouldn't ask for autographs. Too much of anything was bad anybody. Publicity was one thing one should have none of. He could live perfectly without it, thank you very much.

With a wave of his hand, the blinds furled away to reveal the double suns that reflected light onto his moon. The vision before him was defiantly worth the billions he had spent on it. Though it was as barren as his home planet's moon, the biosphere he had set around it with the help of several now deceased scientist, made about three percent of the floating wasteland habitable paradise.

He was glad that he hadn't needed any medical add-ons. Lucas was much more outgoing than he had ever been. He had never understood why the dork even needed the thing. His arm worked just fine without it.

Sighing, he scratched his fur. He really should get out more. Scratch that thought. He should really just call up everyone from the old days. Man, that makes me sound old, he thought as he straightened his quills in the mirror. He wouldn't let his all hang out like some of the hooligans that flew around his moon trying to get pictures for the paper.

With much coercing from his own conscience, he picked up the ear bud and began to mentally dial the number. He shouldn't be doing this. She'd never let him hear the end of it to begin with. He hadn't seen her since his last showing. That hadn't done her pride any favors.

"I wish they would invent these things where I could punch you through the speaker."

He smiled. She hadn't changed after all this time. "Thanks, sis, always nice to wake up in the morning to such a comment."

"Well," she said taking on that too-sweet-for-words voice she had used Pause Lock, "You might have a morning on your little space paradise, but on Ori, we like to go to bed around this time. Thank you!"

"Thanks for the exposition, Crystal. I thought you would be happy to hear from me after all this time."

A laugh barked from the other hedgehog on the line. "Time? More like forty years. Be glad you still have your looks going for you, little brother. Otherwise you'd be the most unpopular man in the universe!"

Her brother smiled. "I could live with that."

A sigh came across the line. "Did you have a real reason for calling us? Lucas has a meeting with the Holy Sovereign tomorrow and I would like to spend my day off not sleeping a hangover I know you'll force me to get."

He laughed. "Am I that bad news to you?"

Silence reigned upon the phone.

He ground his teeth. "Fine. My idea of a Fortress of Solitude doesn't really work.

"And?"

"And! I'd like you and Lucas to come over here. A little get together."

He could see her smiling on the other end. "Are you sure we won't intrude upon your work?"

He scowled at the jib. While he hadn't painted anything in a while, that didn't give her the right to do that. "I'll be fine. Just come over after his meeting."

"What's the magic word?"

"Bitch."

Crystal laughed. "That's probably the best I'll get from you. Oh, and, Shade?"

"Hm?"

She must have hesitated. He bit his lip dreading she would say it. Don't do it, sis. I can't stand it.

"They would be proud of you. Especially dad and—

Shade shut off the call. He wouldn't hear that again. Not when they're six feet under. Don't think like that! He chided himself. She wouldn't—NO! Don't think about it. It will only bring pain, pain that should have dulled after all this time. The bastard that said it must have been a sadist and a moron to begin with.

The Son of Shadow took the phone out of his ear and put it on the table. He wanted to just smash the thing. He wouldn't be such a child. But still . . . It was tempting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

So soft. He loved it. Her flesh was so supple. Soft like that of the softest Mezion silk. Nothing could compare to this. Though, he couldn't see her as his eyes closed from the tired of their lovemaking. The night had done something wonderful to him and he just couldn't describe it fully.

The evening aboard his home had been made into a flurry of sheets and love, of keys to doors that open new possibilities for them. He couldn't let it go. Now, he had taken the plunge once before when he had asked her to marry him. He would do so again. This time, it would be different but no different He would ask her to continue their difficulty. They would end the problem now. They would have a child.

Osma opened his eyes. There was not the young beauty whom he had married a year before their voyage out into the vastness of space. Only blankets in a mired of chaos remained. The Orian tossed the sheets off him and scanned the room. The darkness did not shield the fact that Mem had left the room. Going commando, he went over to the her notepad to see if she had left any note for him not to worry. She wouldn't leave otherwise. She was too responsible to just leave without informing him.

There was no note.

He checked the room for any signs of struggle. Though he had been in the same room, he knew that his problem of heavy sleeping would have kept him from hearing anything. Everything was set the way had been before they had gone to 'bed.' He took up a light tube and shined the vertical light down on the floor. There was nothing overtly disturbing on the floor. He lifted it around again, wait! The chair was not at the desk anymore. He turned frantically. Even the slightest detail could lead to where she was. The char had been turned backward, back facing the space that loomed outside the plasma window. Osma bent down and inspected legs. There was no binding around the legs of the damn thing.

Osma checked the rest of their room. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. "Mem!" he called. He expected some form of note, a letter, a lock of her hair, something! No, all he got was a chair facing the wrong way. That tells one all they would need to know where their naked wife was!

Naked! Osma almost barfed at the thought. She wouldn't go out naked would she? Her cosine might be a nudist but she would be appalled at such an action. Her clothes were gone so that gave him two theories, one he could hopefully throw to the wind: one, she had lost semblance of sanity and was walking around the ship, her clothes in hand rather than on her body. Second: that she actually had put on the clothes.

"I must be going out of my mind," he started to go to the door, but he had a thought. He grinned at his own cleverness. They had installed a security camera that only directed itself to her computer instead of the ships' so that they could keep watch over their room and for kinkier waves of entertainment. He picked up her electronic notepad and entered into the system of the camera after skipping the explicit sections he saw that Mem had gotten up, and started talking to thin air, naked.

That was new, but four years of space travel could do that to a person. He watched as she slipped out of the room. The clock on the camera showed that she had gotten a thirty minute head start on him.

Grabbing a stunner and the notebook, Osma ran from the room! He ran down the halls not caring to avoid any of the security measures. Soon enough the entire ship was alerted that something was off.

Osma didn't notice that the scientist were appearing out of their rooms, bleary eyed and in various states of undress. He ran past them all looking for his wife. Security drones were strangely absent but he never gave it any thought. There had to be more going on her that the fact that his wife had just gone for a nighttime stroll.

The Ori passed the cargo hold but for once his eyes saw something worthy of his attention. Light shone out from the doors but ht lights had been shattered and the glass strewn across the ground. He started to the door when—Ouch! He bit his lip in pain and looked down. The glass had stabbed his bare foot. He could not stop now. Grimacing with pain, he moved on.

He swiped his hand across the door. It slid open to disclose his worst nightmare.

"Mem!" he breathed.

She stood there, or truthfully, she floated above the ground, her eyes glowing red. Malicious light shone out from her. He could feel thoughts brushing up against his mind. Memories of his own childhood mixing with ones he did not remember. Worlds of old, worlds and battles where mortal and the supposed immortal fought for the right to rule. How dare they! He thought with a rage that he had never known before. We are perfection! We are the ultimate force of life and death!

Osma shook his head to clear the thoughts. Where they came from did not mater. All that mattered was getting his wife back. He approached her and tried to take her down by the hand. The instant their skin touched, a jolt shot through him rocketing him back.

Osma didn't feel himself hitting the steel wall of the hold. He opened his eyes and saw in horror his life ambition and the love of his life together in a horrible union. He saw what was going on or at least the outward surface of it. The biomaterial that had once been contained in a plasma window was free and tentacles had wrapped themselves around Mem and were sending pulses of electricity through her body. She did not scream. She had screamed when he had entered the room. The pain had turned into cries of joy. Laughter. He felt angry and he didn't know why. He felt something his profession had never made him come in contact with: bloodlust.

The botanist licked his lips and looked for something, something that could stop the urge. Only one thing would fit the bill, one body with fresh flowing blood.

He lunged at the laughing form of his wife. He never got close. He was sent back into the wall, but Osma didn't care. Blood oozed from his forehead where the skin had broke. The scientist didn't even bother swiping it away as it went over his eye. Letting out a bestial snarl he attacked again. But this time the effect would be different.

A hand grasped around his throat as his vision cleared. The red had left his sight. He looked at who held him. Mem grinned as she tightened her grip. She blinked. Her eyes were green and red. "Well, well," she spoke in her voice, but her voice was matched with another, more ancient and more primal, "it's been sometime since my power has escaped my grasp like that. I'll need to be more careful." Osma tried to speak, but she only tightened her hold on her husband. "Tired, need some help, little Osma," she cooed. "I'll bring you out of your shock!" Osma screamed again as the electricity surged into him from those eyes. Those hate filled eyes.

Suddenly the pain stopped. He gasped for breath as he fell to the floor. He tried to open his eyes but now it was too painful. That didn't stop him from hearing it all. Sounds of laser discharges. "Pesky Ori. Your weapons are of no consequence to me. Your drones have been deactivated. What game shall we play now?"

For those of you who don't know, I've been planning his return since I wrote Legacy. I just could get rid of him. Umbra is awesome! Now, on to other matters. I apologize for the time it took to write this. I've been swamped with school projects and my book Ravenloft.

REVIEWS!

White Keyblade Oathkeeper-Yep, I'll be changing scenes a lot as will be a lot taking place over a lot of space in the universe. Hope you enjoy.

Flowergirl220- Phosphora will appear just give it time and her life is about to take some nasty turns. Oh and just to let you know, Shade will be a lot different in this story than he was before. A lot can happen to a person in 400 yrs.