The Royal Court of Chandilar is unused to celebration. Majestor D'Ken is a hard ruler who demands perfection from his people and himself, and so wastes little time on frivolity. In fact, the one whimsy he has ever been known to allow himself was the training of his little pet. There were those who said (never where it could be heard, of course) that his fondness for the boy was of a deeper and les pure nature. But that was, of course, pure fabrication. D'Ken had never used his toy in the way a man might use a woman. In fact, D'Alken spent most of his nights in the arms of the giggling chambermaids who found his feather-less body pleasing and took great pleasure in tangling their fingers in his yellow head fur which now stretches below his shoulders, a shiny corn silk waterfall.

That temptation is taken from the giddy girls, tonight, his fur hidden out of sight by the high wig he wears. The royal court is dressed in their finest to honor the return of the Lady Lilandra and D'Alken is no different despite his status as a slave. He is the chosen of the Majestor, and he must not disgrace him. In his capacity as such, he works closely with the servants, all of whom are chosen Shi'ar, only he himself representing another race. There are few who take offense at the off-worlder's sharply barked commands. They know he will be generous when referring to their performance to his Master. D'Alken is a strict taskmaster but a fair one.

D'Alken has a special reason for wanting this celebration to go well. He is enamored of the Lady Lilandra, and this is the only way he will over be able to express his affections, considering her elevated status. Not for the first time does he wish for a different circumstance of birth, but this time the longing is so much more urgent.

If Lilandra knows of the slave's feelings, she doesn't show it, though she watches him closely. At her side, her brother notices her attentions.

"He is perfection, is he not?" D'Ken asks, "Far better than I ever expected."

"He is so well trained." Lilandra muses, sipping her wine and watching D'Alken laugh lightly at an off-color joke told by one of the old men of the court, "Having spent so many years with his kind, I cannot believe it would be possible to tame an Earther."

"D'Alken was a frightened child when he was sampled. It took only a little kindness and manipulation to make him mine." D'Ken says with a shrug. "His father was not so easy. Beatings, tortures, years in the Mines and the fool was still not broken. He tried several times to escape, until finally I showed him what his son had become. Once he understood that D'Alken was mine and any misbehavior would result in punishments given to the boy, he became as docile as the child."

"By taming the son, you broke the father." Lilandra ponders, stroking her head feathers, "Interesting technique. Where is the Earther now?"

"Still in the mines." D'Ken says, his tongue loosened by drink and the joy of the evening. "Corsair is my eyes and ears. He tells me of impending revolts or of dissatisfied thoughts of my own people, in return got my promises to keep his child safe. The idiot clings to the hope that he will be reunited with the boy one day. He has no idea that D'Alken doesn't even know he exists."

Lilandra is shocked at the deviousness of it all, and wonders if her time on Earth has mellowed her, or if she had simply never realized before how evil her brother truly was, "The Earther has turned informant to save a boy unaware he needs saving." She says, softly. "D'Ken, you are truly a monster."

The Majestor smiles, proudly. "Yes, my sweet sister. That is why I rule worlds in all dimensions and all realities."

Lilandra raises her glass to her brother, "You are a credit to the House of Neramani."

D'Ken returns her toast, "We will bring glory to our family name."

Sulking alone on the other side of the room, surrounded by fawning court ladies, many of whom have affixed false wings to their gown in imitation of her, Lady Deathbird glares at the couple. She is no fool. She knows she is an evolutionary throwback, substandard breeding material, despite the fact that her title has made her ridiculously recessive wings fashionable. D'Ken had always preferred perfect Lilandra and she had been nothing more than a poor second choice.

Dr. Abdol takes Dr. Andrew's pulse, silently. He lifts the woman's eyelids and shines hie penlight into them. Very little response.

"It this Good?" Kathy Summers asks, stroking her son's hair, soothingly, "Is this what's supposed to happen?"

Abdol frowns, "I honestly don't know, Kathy."

A few moments after making contact with Alex's mind, Dr. Andrews had slumped, senseless to the bed. Alex's only reaction was to allow his head to sink to his mother's lap. The doctor's eyes have closed but Alex's remain wide open.

""She is in a trance." Abdol says, worriedly. "Self induced hypnosis."

"I don't see that it is doing Alex any good." Kathy says.

"Give her some time." The Doctor's eyes are flashing white in his dark face. "He has been lost for fifteen years. It might take sometime for her to find him."

Kathy bends over her son, and whispers, "Alex, are you trying? Are you trying to come home?"

His eyelids flutter closed and though no one notices and he makes no sound, the catatonic mouths the word, "Lilandra..."