A search of the palace revealed nothing and no one suspicious, leaving the disconcerting thought that the assassination attempt was made by someone near to the throne.

D'Alken stands alone on the balcony that over looks the city, watching the sun rise, eschewing his wig in favor of a hooded cloak that hides his mane. His tattooed eyes are disturbed and he wears a sword on his hip. He feels someone behind him and he turns around quickly, his blade out swift and deadly.

Lilandra doesn't move, allowing the blade to rest against her throat, perfectly aimed so that it doesn't even nick her fragile skin. Had he not perfect control though, she might have suddenly found her shoulders lonesome for her head. "Peace, D'Alken." She says, softly. "I came to ask you if you had eaten breakfast yet, you have been here since the attack."

He lowers his sword and says, grimly, "While my master and mastress were attacked, I was dallying in the arms of giggling chambermaids. I am not hungry."

"Ah, so you are punishing yourself for not being able to see the future." Lilandra nods, wisely, "Yes, you should sleep at the foot of his bed and never have a moment of privacy. That makes for a healthy man."

"I used to do just that." He says, a bitter smile on his lips, made lopsided from the scar on his cheek caused by the shrapnel. "There were times I lay awake all night to hear my master's breath."

"I doubt even Deathbird is so loyal." Lilandra says.

"She believes I am the assassin." D'Alken murmurs, turning away from her, and leaning heavily on the rail. "She doesn't understand that I owe my life to the Majestor."

Lilandra puts her hand on his shoulder, "D'Alken, where is your family? Your real family. Not my brother and sister, but your parents."

The slave shakes his head, dislodging the hood, but not seeming to notice. "I don't know. I was injured somehow, and the Majestor saved my life. I don't remember anything from what came before...except..." His voice drifts away.

"Except?" Lilandra prompts.

His face pales in the dim light of the rising sun, "A burning in my hands and...an explosion..."

Lilandra feels her heart skip a beat and she looks away quickly lest her face show what she is feeling. "I wonder what happened." She says.

"I don't know." He says, distractedly, "Forgive me, My Lady, for not being particularly good company. I am just angry at myself and concerned that there is someone in the palace who is not who they appear to be."

"It is my fault." Lilandra sighs, "My presence is causing problems."

He turns his face sharply towards her. "Your presences could never cause problems, my Lady. Forgive my boldness but you are like something I did not know I was missing until it was found again. Something about you makes me..." his fair, abused face reddens. "I am sorry." He drops the formal speech, and meets her eyes, "I'm sounding like a love sick hatchling. Its just, I don't feel like I belong here when I am with you. I feel like I am far from home and you are my only way back. It makes no sense, but it makes me...uneasy. I feel like you want me to be something and I'm failing at it and it disappoints you. I don't want to disappoint you ever."

Lilandra nearly breaks then. She wants to grab him and tell him everything, sending him home before it is too late and he is used to unwittingly leads her brother to earth, before he is destroyed by what D'Ken would make of him. But fifteen years trapped in a dimension that she should have just been able to pass through had taught her patience.

D'Alken was simply not ready to bet Alex Summers, yet.

She is spared a comment by the arrival of Gladiator, the imperial guardsman's face stern beneath his mohawked plume. "D'Alken, the search is completed. The Majestor requests your presence in the council rooms so we may plan a heightened security routine." If the guard leader feels degraded to be sent as a messenger for a lowly off-worlder's slave, he doesn't show it.

D'Alken looks into Lilandra's eyes, for a second, and then the coldness returns. "You should not be alone, my Lady, it is not yet safe to be unattended."

She bows her head in acknowledgement, "I will find a companion for the day." She promises. Without another word, she goes inside, and returns to her room, her head and her heart full of anxiety. She steps into her chamber, carelessly and discovers she is not alone.

A hand clamps around her mouth and she is pulled back against a strong male form. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" a cold voice with a metallic reverberation growls in her ear.

She knows that voice, "Raza?" she mumbles around the hand over her mouth.

The cyborg spins her around and his wrist is at her throat, an energy blade emerging from his cybernetic appendage. "What game are you playing?" he demands.

Lilandra narrows her eyes, "I don't know what you are talking about." Her gaze is drawn to the blade where it shines in place of a flesh and blood hand. "Put away your weapon, and we will talk like the civilized beings we both are,"

Raza lowers the blade but it stays lit, "You are a foolish woman. You speak treason to the Majestor's lapdog?"

"And, you attack the Majestor's sister in the royal palace." She scoffs, "Who is more the fool?"

The cyborg narrows his eyes, "Do you honestly think the coward Corsair will not run panting to his master to betray you?"

"I am a daughter of House Neramani..."

"All the more reason to suspect you." Raza says, "The human is an informant. Its what he does. Its who he is."

"He is the father of the Majestor's pet." The woman defends, "And he believes if he doesn't cooperate his child will be injured."

Raza's one visible eyes widens, "D'Alken is Corsair's son?"

"The Majestor broke the man by threatening the boy and tamed the boy by erasing all trace of the man." Lilandra says.

The electronic blade goes dark and Raza's bionic hand appears instead. "That is treachery of the highest order of evil."

Lilandra frowns at the words. "You speak ill of your Majestor."

Raza glares at her and says, "D'Ken is Majestor by for not by right. He sets his sights on the universe and ignores the suffering of his people." He holds his cybernetic arm up and says, "This is my reward for years of devoted service. Injured in battle, I was not given the honor of a noble death. Instead, I was modeled into a machine, a tool and given dominion over slaves and ex-patriots."

The woman's elegantly long-fingered hand touches the metal of the prosthesis and says, "You are an anarchist, then. Did you instrument the assassination attempt on his lordship?"

Raza scoffs, "You haven't figured that out yet? Lady Deathbird arranged the attack, to discredit D'Alken and more than likely lead the trail back to you."

"To me? How would..." Lilandra's voice trails off for a moment. "D'Alken is a threat to my sister because of the love my brother has for him, just as I am."

"And D'Alken's love for you implicates you in his downfall." Raza says.

Lilandra shakes her head, "He is not in love with me. His connection with me is not easy to explain, but it is not love. He only thinks it is because he doesn't know what else it could be. How do you know about that at any rate?"

"The mines are not the only place where there are spies." Raza says, quietly," A revolution is coming, one so secret that not even the coward...not even Corsair knows what is happening. All that is missing is a new Majestor to raise in D'Ken's place." He looks at her pointedly, "Or a Majestrix."

Lilandra draws back, "You would make me ruler over you?"

"I heard your words to Corsair. You are the true heir to the throne and you will be a just ruler." Raza says, "Say the word and we will attack."

"Not yet." The woman says.

"The longer we delay, my lady, the more likely it is that the Informant will do his work. Corsair is not to be trusted, particularly if what you say is true. He is likely to tattle like a hatchling all the quicker if he believes your presence endangers D'Alken."

The woman shakes her head, "I have faith that Summers will find his courage. This is a man whose dying act in his home dimension was to bring his family to safety and whose birth here was filled with enough defiance to require my brother to use manipulations of the 'highest order of evil' to humble. This is not a weak man, Raza, no matter what you or he believe."

Raza stares a moment at her and then he says, "The fate of my people lies in the hands of a known mole."

"Faith, Raza." Lilandra says.

He looks at her with a look as hard and cold as ice. "I had faith in my leaders before I was transformed into a metal shell. A machine cannot pray, My Lady. It can only know what it is programmed to know, and I have been trained to know that the human will betray us."

Christopher Summers has never slept well ever. He was a high strung child, too much energy and intelligence to shut his mind off at night. As a young man, his thoughts were of the sky and various crafts that were to carry him through its unknown spaces, As a husband, he sat up at night watching his wife and wondering how he had gotten so lucky. As a father, his nights were spent with first Scottie, then little Alex, calming colicky cries and chasing monsters from under the bed with broomstick weapons.

As a prisoner, there is even less chance to sleep well.

First the terror of the interrogations as D'Ken tried frantically to discover why his gate to earth had failed, then later the humiliation of being made to reveal all he knew to keep his son protected.

Now, there are the constant threats on his life from the other prisoners, who only know his betrayals and have watched as he was rewarded for those treacherous deeds. Corsair has bent knee before D'Ken and meekly allowed the Majestor to give him extra ration and supplies. The captives don't care that the human sneaks the rewards to those who otherwise were destined for the furnaces.

Hepzibah rarely sleeps either. Her people were felinoid in appearance, but they are not the lazy beasts like their domesticated kin. She shares Corsair's separated bunk house, watching while he sleeps fitfully, comforting him when he lays awake. She knows his pain, though she had never know what caused it, and it had often made her wonder at the courage it took for him not to give up. The little bird had met with him and the things she had said made him upset.

She does not like Corsair upset.

She owed her life to him. He had saved her from men who would have hurt her, demanding the only thing he had ever dared from D'Ken, that the young kitten be allowed to remain his companion. The Majestor allowed it, finding it amusing that the human would rut with what the Shi'ar considered lowly beasts.

Corsair never touched Hepzibah as a lover, though it was plain he did indeed see her as one. When she asked once why it was, he had answered, "You serve a man, Hepzibah, not a soulless carcass."

He watches her stalk about the room tonight, checking as is her practice for those who might wish her beloved harm. Corsair's eyes are filled with something more than weary sorrow. "Hepzibah, come sit by me." He urges.

She hurries to do so and purrs when he strokes her head with unaccustomed affection. "Corsair..." she murmurs.

He brings his lips close to her ear, "I am going to the palace, my love, and no matter what you hear about me, or what they tell you is true, you must trust that I will be back for you."

She turns her head, "Corsair, what are you going to do?" she asks, warily.

"I am going to reveal to my master the treachery of his sister." Corsair says, rising, "I am going to bring Lilandra's rebellion to light."

Hepzibah rises too, "I will go with you."

Corsair shakes his head, "No, you must stay here. I don't want you with me, Cat. You will only get in my way."

She is stung by the bluntness of his words, "Corsair."

"This is the last insurrection my master will ever have to crush." He looks at her with naked maliciousness in his eyes. "Lady Lilandra opened my eyes. This is not my world and it is using me up. If I don't look out for my own interests, there will be nothing left of me. My son is not safe if cooperate or if I rebel, so I will make my own decisions from now on, and do what pleases me." Without another world, he storms away.

Hepzibah waits until his smell has faced before she steps into the darkness. She is a soft white and orange ghost as she moves through the work camp. Passing one of the barracks, she exudes a signal of pheromones and slips further into the night.

"He hassss gone, hasssn't he?" hisses a voice, "To D'Ken?"

Hepzibah narrows her eyes, as the tall creature emerges into her line of vision, "He has, Ch'od."

Ch'od, a reptoid, bulky and scaled, with fanged jaws, yellow slit eyes and a row of spikes down his spine, makes a low noise in his throat. "We knew he wassss weak."

The cat's tail cracks in anger like a whip, almost as if she has no control, so enraged is she, "He is not weak."

"No? Then why issss he getting ussss killed." Ch'od snaps. "Tonight, we musssst sssstrike before he betraysss usss all."