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[NightCrawler 85]

*Events and characters are based on the chronicle Khumaak. - https://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Khumaak_(Chronicle)

The Starkmari girl and her almond eyes.

Prologue

She was laying on the bed, staring at the high ceiling lost in thought.

The emperor was dead, killed by one of his own slaves, someone he trusted and, to some extent, respected. The irony was that the slave, Drupar, had used one the Amarrs leaders own rod to commit the crime. During the past few days she had seen many rebels walk around with replicas of the emperors rod, raised over their heads and calling it "KhumaaK". She found the idea that the emperor had been killed using one of the Amarr's most sacred symbols of power quite ironic, and couldent help but smile.
You could question if Drupar had been in the right to do what he did to the late emperor Arkon. After all, him and his family had provided many Minmatar slaves with a good life, and opportunities few people born into slavery could have hoped for.
But, Minmatars are proud, and while many have accepted a life of slavery, deep down they have a wish, a hope, for something more for their children, and their children's children.

She sighed and turned over on her side, feeling the silk skirt slide to the side and expose her legs, long, smooth skin, and a deep dark color.
She smiled and started to think about the young heir, and how many times he had sneaked in late at night waking her up by letting his hands slide over those legs, then across her stomach and over her chest.

He was no longer just an heir, he was the new emperor, emperor Idonis. The thought made her shiver, both with fear and excitement. She knew very well that the heirs feelings for her was one of the reasons she had been kept safe all these years. While no one "officially" knew about their relationship, there were rumors, and this was enough to make sure that the guards, while still admiring her body, dident dare to lay a hand on her, and she was allowed to do more or less whatever she wanted without anyone daring to question her.

That was one of the reasons that Drupar had involved her in his plans, and not just on some small level. She used her looks to get the heirs attention, and then the... lust any young man has to gain his trust. She almost started to laugh. Men, especially those that have some level of power, control, are so easily fooled. Let them into your bed once and they are convinced you could never betray them because your "blinded by love". He would tell her things, oh the things he would tell her. Sometimes she would ask him questions, carefully guiding the conversation, getting information about the emperor, who was loyal towards him, who in the council objected to his ruling, his plans.. She could get anything out of him, and he always answered willingly, never suspecting that she was using him.

She got up from the bed and looked around.

It was a small place, far from as cramped and worn down as other the quarters other residents of Minmatar origins on the planet. In fact, Idonis had made sure that her quarters where quite pleasant. Maybe it was because he was used to a certain.. standard and felt that the usual quarters reserved for slaves weren't good enough for him, but she thought that in a way he had gotten her a new place, a place for her self, because he wanted to please her. Ironically enough this was also something that had greatly helped the cause. Since their "relationship" had to be maintained secret he had gotten her a place in the nicer part of the city, where people rarely bothered to pay attention to anything but them self's. Thus it had been easy for the rebels to have regular meetings there and not be noticed.

Again she caught her self almost laughing, this time because of the naivety the Amarr people showed whenever slaves where involved.
Obviously they had to be careful when having these meetings, since even the most snotty Amarrian's would notice a group of 5-10 slaves and various employees of the emperor walking in a group, but they came one by one, and no one had ever questioned them. Especially not when a slave accompanied some of the higher ranked Amarr employees, since it was not uncommon that the slaves followed their master wherever they went. And since the guards knew she had a.. special guest staying over on a regular basis, they never searched the property. Oh if they had known the amount of weapons, documents, holoreels, ISK and other illegal possessions she had stored below the floor boards... Not to mention a list that contained the name of every person who was a supporter of the rebellion, both Minmatars and Amarr.
These most important possessions had been destroyed of course. As soon as word spread about the late emperors death the documents and recordings got burned to ensure that the information they contained would not reach the new emperor.

Its almost time. She goes over to the small mirror, ruffles up her hair a bit, just the way he likes it. She stares back at her self in the mirror, almond shaped eyes. So much pain and suffering is hidden behind those eyes, so much hatred for the people her life depends on, and hatred for what she has become. Not just a slave, but a whore, using her body in a last desperate attempt at redemption to what has been done to her people, to her self.
In her desk drawer she had a Kri'tak. Now she removed it from the drawer and put it on the table, then just stood next to it, listening, waiting for the new emperor to arrive.

What few knew was that before Drupar had drawn his last breath, he had been tortured.
Drupar was a strong man, and a clever man, but in the end, everyone gives in to the Amarr's vicious ways of gaining information. One of the last things he had done, more unconscious then conscious, was looking at the young emperor and laugh, taunting him about how he had been a great supporter of the rebellion by freely giving them all the information they needed to end the rule of Amarr once and for all, and all just because he couldent control his lust for the dark skinned woman with the mysterious eyes and alluring smile. The emperor, blinded by rage and desperation and heartache screamed and launched at Drupar, slitting his throat.
She had obtained this information from someone within the Amarr ranks, someone in the council that had been present when it happened.
She didn't blame Drupar for what he had done, she would be dead anyway since there was no way the council would accept the new emperors "play toy" to walk around and potentially say something she shouldent, and at least this way she got the pleasure of knowing that the young Emperor knew what she had done, how he had gotten tricked, and how weak minded he really was. It gave her an immense feeling of pleasure and pride, and she knew that the shame, the embarrassment he would feel whenever he looked at a guard, spoke the the council, addressed "his" people would eventually drive him mad.

She could hear him now, and she stood up straighter, facing the door, knowing it would be opened any second. She wouldent bow, she wouldent look down, she would not address him in any way or form. She took the Kri'tak with both her hands and pointed it towards her chest. He would not get the pleasure of having her one last time, he would not get the pleasure of ending her him self. She did not want to give him any chance of redemption.

The first thing Idonis saw when he kicked in the door was her smile, no longer alluring, but triumphant and proud, and for the first time he saw the hatred in her eyes, and the hatred, hatred so strong that it made her glow, made her even more beautiful to him.

Those almond shaped eyes would be in his dreams for the rest of his life, and she was right, he did go mad.

[NightCrawler 85]

*Events and characters based on the chronicle Khaedra - https://www.eveonline.com/creations/fiction/khadrea/

Part 1.

20 years earlier a Starkmari girl can be seen running trough the fields towards a small house on the outskirts of the town. She has a big grin on her face, excited to tell her mother what she had found. She is slowly followed by a small group of men carefully carrying a Sebiestor that looked more like skin and bone then a living human being. Her name is Khaedra, and her almond shaped eyes are glowing the way only a kids eyes, one that is still innocent, uncorrupted, not yet destroyed by the cruelty she will face in her later years.

Her mother is not really her mother. At least not in the sense that she gave birth to Khaedra. Her real mother died during child birth, and Asela being a widow with no children of her own and nothing left to loose raised Khaedra. Maybe because she was lonely, maybe in the hopes that one day someone would take notice of her great sacrifice raising a slave child and decide to take pity on her, and help her recover some of her former glory and respect, or maybe she simply did it out of compassion. Whatever her motives where, she never told anyone, and while she was very strict with Khaedra, she still acted like a holder and treated her well.
Asela is what you would call a Destitude Holder.

Khaedra came running into the kitchen, still smiling and practically yelled "Mom! I found a strange man! I found a strange man! i found a strange man! They are bringing him over now! He looks like me!". Her babbling got abrubtly cut off as Asela hit her with the palm of her hand, hard enough to leave Khaedra's cheek red for the next half hour, but not enough to really hurt her.
At this point most kids would have sat down and screamed their head off, but Khaedra who was raised as a slave girl was used to this treatment and knew exactly why she had been slapped.
"Lady Asela, please forgive me. I meant no disrespect."
Pleased by hearing Khaedra address her properly, she sat down on a chair next to the kitchen table and invited Khaedra to sit on the floor in front of her with a simple nod.
Obideantly Khaedra sat down on her knees, with her head bowed as a sign of respect she told her mother about the strange man she had found collapsed near the city limits.

Other slaves had quickly arrived and it had ended up with a discussion about what to do with the man, who was obviously in bad shape. For reasons beyond Khaedra's knowledge the discussion had quickly evolved into a fight. Some wanted to kill the man, some wanted to turn him over to the guards, some wanted to just leave him to his own faith. Needless to say that Khaedra did not approve of any of these options.

Young as she was she was still not able to fully understand how things worked, in her mind there where no slaves, no masters, no holders. Of course she knew she had to be more respectful to some then others, but she had never really questioned this, its just how it had been ever since she was born. Maybe this is why she went in between the group of men and just started to scream. Just one loud scream, sharp enough to make everyone who heard it cringe and cover their ears.

When it was all said and done the slaves decided to bring the wounded Sebiestor to Khaedra's mistress. Her kindness was one of the things that had caused her to fall in ruin, and they felt sure that no matter what faith was in wait for the scrawny man they carried between them, she would not tell their masters what they had done, or even that they had any knowledge about the man.
Little did they know that this man would help change the faith of every Minmatar across the entire galaxy, and help start the biggest rebellion there had ever been.

Khaedra was 6 years old, and the innocence she now possessed would soon start to corrode.

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 2

Asela ordered the slaves to lay the wounded Sebiestor down on Khaedras bed which was standing in a corner in the small kitchen. She then sent them on their way knowing they would not mention a word about this to their masters out of fear of being punished. In the mean time Khaedra had gone out to the well and brought back some fresh clean water in a bowl, together with a piece of cloth before she quietly went back outside.
She knew that Asela wouldent want her to hear the conversation they would have, but she put her self right outside the door, knowing that she would easily be able to hear what was being said.

Asela looked down on the wounded Sebiestor laying on the bed that was, truth be told, way to small for a man of his size. Even with how skinny he was he was a large man, and it was clear to Asela that while he was a slave, he had been a slave for someone of nobility. The Sebiestor did not have calluses on the palm of his hands, he had no scars that could indicate whipping or severe beatings, both very common methods of punishment, and while he was well built he did not have the muscles you expect to see on someone who works in a mine or a field. This man had smooth hands, almost delicate, and his skin showed no sign of damage, except the quickly evolving bruises that was rapidly turning purple and black all over his body.
However, she did note with interest that the man had wounds around his thin wrists, fresh wounds, and it left her with the conclusion that whoever this man was, he had recently been held captive, and the only reason he was here on this bed was pure luck.

She noticed that the man was looking at her, and startled she looked away, feeling shame being caught looking so closely on his body.
"Water, please." he asked, his voice cracking up, but yet very strong and deep. A voice that could have belonged to an authority figure, someone used to giving speeches, or shouting orders. Asela took the ladle and filled it with water from a bucket that stood next to the bed, and slowly guided it towards his moth while he was doing his best to sit up. As soon as he tasted the water he started to drink more greedily, quickly emptying it and she gave him a second one, this time letting him hold it on his own, and then sat down on the chair across the room.

She sensed no danger with this man. She suspected he was as broken mentally as he was physically, and that he had no more strenght,or willpower to fight, and she allowed her self to relax while carefully observing him using the cloth and basin Khaedra had brought to clean off him self until he was ready to talk.

"My Lady, I don't know what you are planning to do with me, but you showed me mercy by letting me drink your water, and showed me respect by letting me clean off my broken body, and for that you have my gratitude." He ended this with a small bow, but he kept her eyes pinned to hers.
She scowled.
"Then the least you could do when facing a Holder is to show enough respect to look down when addressing me". The Sebiestor gave her a weak smile, and kept looking at her, but his eyes turned dark.
"I do not wish to offend you Lady, but it has nothing to do with your race, or you rank. I address you as Lady, because its proper, not because i feel i have to, and i look at you because its my damn right to look at whoever i want, when i want" He saw the bewildered look in her face and laughed, because of her confusion. No one had ever dared to speak to her like that, but his laughter was kind and she caught her smile smiling back at him. He sat back down on the bed and took a deep breath.
"My name is Errus Ankarrek, and im a fugitive wanted for killing my former master. Listen to my story before you pass judgment."

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 3

"Like most of my people i was a slave," he began, "but i was a happy slave."
"I had my beloved, while we were not married we were sworn to each other by oath, and i had a son."
His eyes filled with compassion as soon as he mentioned his son, but also a deep sense of sorrow.
"His name was Seru, and he was a dimwit, a retard." He nearly spat out the last word, like it was dirty.
"I loved that kid, he was my pride and joy, not much older then the slave Starkmari girl that found me and convinced the others to bring me here. Our family had worked for the priests family as butlers for generations, and we where fortunate to be born into such a kind and respected role. As respected as it can be for a slave at least. Me, like my father, my fathers father, and as far back as anyone can remember have always strived to please our masters. We where loyal, and while we knew that we where nothing but slaves, we felt that we were treated with respect, and we repaid that by working hard and not causing trouble."

Asela could hear the well controlled anger in Eruss's voice, and nodded to show understanding and encouraging him to go on.

My son liked to be outside, watching people pass by, admiring the nice clothing the more wealthy Amarrians would wear. My master caught him in my masters closet once, just letting his hands slide over the priests many robes. He said he liked how it felt against his skin. Oddly enough my master dident punish him, instead he found a robe that had belonged to his son, and gave it to Seru so he would have a robe of his own. My master never told me why he did it, but i think secretly he liked the kid, even with his.. condition."

Errus took another sip of water before he continued.

"My masters son was a few years older then mine, a spoiled little brat. And he couldent stand my son. Maybe he knew that his father secretly liked him, even if it might have been more as a mascot then anything else. This kind and loving little kid that would never act like he was more then 5.
He used to tease Seru, him and his friends. They would never really hurt him, just trick him. Like pretending to want to play hide and go seek and they would have him hide and then not go looking and Seru would be hiding for hours until someone found him and sent him home. That kind of thing.
About 6 months ago I had accomponied my master for one of his trips, and wouldent be back until late at night, while his mother was at the market getting groceries.
My son, bored being inside alone, unwatched, went outside to play, and he was wearing the robe my master had given him. Not realizing how disrespectful it would be for a Minmatar, the son of a slave, to wear clothing normally reserved for the Amarr people only.
He was seen by my masters son, and i guess the sight of a retarded slave kid wearing "his" robe triggered something in him. He started to throw stones at Seru, taunting him, telling him how he was worthless, how he was stupid, how he would would get Esus executed as soon as he was the new master.
Seru, unable to comprehend what was really happening, started to run towards my masters son with his arms spread out, most likely to try and hug him to make him happy again so he would stop hurting him."

Eruss's voice cracked up, and he twisted his hands in his lap drawing deep breaths trying to get him self under control before he continued.

"My master had slaver hounds like most wealthy families do, and one of these where this big dog, Tila ,that had grown up with his son. Trained from day one to protect him no matter what, Tila leaped at my son, throwing him in the ground, tearing his robe, his skin, his flesh, ignoring my sons cries of pain. She just kept biting and tearing, biting and tearing..."
His mother had been at the market, on her way home with that nights dinner for the priest family, and heard Seru's shrieks of pain and fear. She dropped everything and came running, trying to tear the dog off our son."

Even if she knew it was pointless, Asela looked at Errus with a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes, a hope that maybe the boy survived the viscous attack from the Slaver. Errus picked up on it and said coldly; "Even if she had managed to pull Tila off him it would have been to late. I was told his screams had already stopped, and he was nothing more then a piece of bloody meat wrapped in shredded silk."

"The screams had alerted some close by guards that came to check what was going on. What met them was a hysterical slave woman trying to beat on a slaver hound with her bare hands, and a panic stricken Amarr boy claiming that she was trying to kill his dog. Of course the guards could see the body the slaver hound was shaking back and forth like a rag doll, and knew that the priests son was not telling the truth, not the complete truth anyway, but they they took my beloved Ania and pulled her off the dog, then proceeded to hit her several times before they dragged her off into a nearby passage way where they proceeded to beat her.
Many people saw what happened, slaves and Amarrs, and no one interrupted, just looked down and kept on walking."

Errus looked at her with what was now pure rage in his eyes, unable to control his voice anymore.
"They just kept on walking! Even our own people are so afraid of you Amarr scumbags that they were willing to let one of ours get beaten to death, and for what? Because she had tried to save the life of her own son, a retarded kid that had done nothing wrong except enjoying the feeling of silk on his skin! How can anyone, anyone, say that is right?"

Not really expecting a response Errus continued.
After his outburst of anger his voice had turned cold, and in many ways this scared Asela more then his anger had.

"After the guards where done with her, they left her to die.She had tried to crawl over to our son, and she died reaching her hand out towards him, broken and alone. By the evening someone came by and picked up the remains, brought them away and burned them. I never even got a chance to say good bye, or give them a proper burial.
Devastated i went to my master and i said "My Lord, you have always shown us kindness, and we have always showed you the respect a slave should show his master, but your son is now responsible for the deaths of my son and his mother. He needs to be punished. Please give me some kind of redemption, i beg off you".
My master looked at me and said "Your son was wearing a robe that belonged to my son. He had committed the crime of theft, and he was used to set an example. Your beloved Ania, shameful as it is, tried to interfere and attacked my sons life guard, Tila. The guards had no other choice but to get her out of the way, even if they had to use force. While its very unfortunate that she died, accidents happen Eruss, and my son cant be blamed for that. Now, leave me be, i need my rest. Its been a long day".
My master went over to the bed and laid down, patiently waiting for me to come over and fluff his pillow and make sure his covers where decent, and i walked over to the bed, not really knowing what i was doing. All i know is that i felt this.. rage... I could hear my own blood rushing trough my veins, and when i lifted his pillow to fluff it i saw the knife he kept there in case of intruders and it was like a white light exploded inside my head. I grabbed the knife and i stabbed him, screamed, and stabbed him again. Over and over and over again. I have been told i had stabbed him over 70 times."

Asela had grown pale, and the he smiled at her.
"Don't worry, i have no reason to harm you, and in my current condition even a scrawny little Amarr woman like your self could have ended me."

"I spent the next 6 months on the run, going from ship to ship, sometimes paying, sometimes threatening the pilot to let me on-board, sometimes as a blind passenger. I just wanted to get to the Republic, grieving my son and Ania in peace. But they caught up with me, and only by a miracle did i manage to escape. The escape pod crashed on this planet, why they dident come after me i dont know, and i walked until i got to the edge of the town. The rest you know."

She looked at him, wanting to ask him a question but not fully daring, feeling a deep sense of respect that she couldent explain for this man. Luckily he saw and understood.

"No, it dident feel good to kill him. At the moment i did it i felt nothing, and now.. I feel no satisfaction. I killed one master, one of many. I wont feel at peace until my people can see a helpless women get beaten,and chose to step in and save her knowing they wont be killed for treason against an empire we don't belong too."

Outside Khaedra wept silently.

[Callista Dalmore]

11 years earlier - Starkmanir Prime, Royal Education Center – Engineering and practical sciences
The mote of light dances erratically just above the black board.  Generally it stays quite high up above Mentor Benelanin’s round and pudgy head but at times it swoops down daringly and almost kisses his fat fingers as they sprawl yet another barely comprehensible fluid flow partial differential equation upon the board.

“And so, class, as we can see here when we try to reconcile experimental data with our derived theoretical models, the discrepancies, at standard temperature and pressure…” continues the Mentor in his deep throaty drone.

Whispers, pointed fingers and meaningful glances all point to the new boy sitting in one of the few shafts of direct sunlight to make it into the auditorium.  He clearly enjoys the attention, especially from the smiling girls.

He now maneuvers his datapad to make the reflected light appear to bounce atop the edge of the blackboard, imitating the dynamics quite well by slowing at the top of each arc and then rapidly descending to hit the edge and then leaping back up.  When the “ball” is about to bounce into the school’s motto it stops, as if surprised, and gingerly wobbles its way around it.  Emblazoned in the Hamri’s greens and golds are the words “All Knowledge from God”.  When the light comes around to the word “God”, it pauses and suddenly jumps up and down on it as if it were a child jumping on a bed.

A flurry of suppressed giggles burst out.

The Mentor interrupts his equation and turns on his heel to face the class.  Quickly the boy’s datapad slips down into his lap and his mischievous grin is replaced by a mask of exaggerated boredom.

“What is so humorous?  Mentor Benelanin barks as his chalked hands lower slowly and deliberately while he scans the room. “What in ‘laminar to turbulent transition zones’ has you all quite so tickled?”  His tone clearly indicates that he is anything but, “tickled”.  Let me remind you that several of you are currently failing this class and many more of you are barely getting by.  It would be a shame to test your inadequate knowledge at this point would it not?  Let me remind you of the incredible privilege each and every one of you sitting here today are enjoying.  Was it not for the infinite grace and generosity of your Lord Arzad, where would you be?  Hmm?  His gaze shifts to the windows where work was still underway clearing a swath of jungle for the new sports fields.

His threat has the desired sobering effect.

“Since we are in fact, interrupted, I would like to take this time to present to you a new student.  Heir Idonis Ardishapur, could you please stand up and say hello to the students of class 219 “Hydraulics and Irrigation Systems”?

Astonished, all heads turn towards the new boy who, standing too quickly sends his datapad crashing to the floor. A boy next to him retrieves the datapad.

“Idonis will be auditing this class for the rest of the semester and I am quite sure his father will be particularly interested in any problems in discipline or any other goings on in this class. Now, Idonis, would you be so kind as to describe what happened to be so funny in my lecture?”

Feeling the warmth of a flush begin in his cheeks, Idonis looks around the room.  His gaze falls back to the front of the hall and onto the black board.  Suddenly, it comes to him.

“Ah, yes, Knowledgable Mentor, I believe that it is due to the omission of the partial derivative in the second equation which, if solved would have the theoretical system create energy which as I guess some astute students found amusing as it violates the laws of thermodynamics and would therefore quite corroborate your earlier statement the difficulty of reconciling experimental data with the theoretic.”

As he spoke his gaze fell upon a strikingly beautiful girl a couple of rows down and across from him.  He momentarily lost his train of thought.  Looking away, back towards the Mentor, Idonis  continues, “And I assume, out of deference to you, were perhaps too shy to point out the mistake but their exuberance got the best of them and when you copied the error into the third equation they could not hold it any longer.”

Mentor Benelanin looks back at his equation and nods slowly clearly embarrassed at having made such a mistake in front of the heir.  Turning back to the class, he says to Idonis, “I see that your formal Amarrian education serves as a wonderful example to us all.  Thank you for your candor.”

Idonis, relieved, sits back down.  As he does so, the boy next to him leans over and whispers, “Three rows down and five across.  She’s mine.”  Looking in that direction, Idonis sees that it is the girl which made him stumble while he was speaking.  He leans over to his friend ans whispers, “Zoriac my friend, you are going to have to fight for her.”

They settle back into their chairs both seeming to be listening to the lecture.  Both, however, are picturing her lovely almond eyes.







 

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 5

Three years had passed since she was seen running down the road, excited because of the arrival of the strange man.
Three years since she understood that she could never expect to be treated like Amarr...
Three years since she started to learn what she really was, a slave girl.
Three long years.

Her hair is tied back in a braid that goes down to her waist, wearing a discreet beige dress. She is still young, and while no one can yet guess what she will look like once her body evolve, she still hold a certain level of beauty that no one can really describe. Some might say its animalistic, maybe because of her stern expression, her posture and her smile...The kind of smile that makes you feel uncomfortable, makes you instinctively look down to study your feet even though you cant explain why it makes you feel that way. Maybe its because the smile never reaches her eyes.

But, despite this, no one can say anything bad about her.
Among her own people she is known as a kind girl, the kind of girl that will always help when needed, always willing to run errands or help cover up mistakes so that they wont get in trouble with their masters.
While she does not have much contact with the Amarrians living on the planet, the ones that do know her like her. Well..like might be the wrong word for it.. They have high hopes for her, that she will embrace their beliefs and religion and at some point help teach new generations what is proper and what is not.

Khaedra kept her eyes down, focused on an invisible spot on the desk in front of her. She had noticed the new kid looking at her, the "heir" as the teacher had pointed out. She is used to being stared at, but it still makes her feel uncomfortable, and having an heir paying attention to her could end up badly.
She knows she is a good actor, but she still feels like people can look straight trough her and figure out everything she is thinking.. Her fears, her hopes, her dreams... and Errus.
Of all things she did not want someone to find out about Errus. If she had dared to tell anyone about her feelings for the man they would tell her she just idolizes him because she subconsciously views him as a father figure and think it was cute. But who can expect a 9 year old girl to understand such complex emotions, especially when there is so much at stake, and she is feeling under constant pressure.

Asela, whom she no longer viewed her as a mother, had allowed Errus to stay for four days to recover from his injuries.
During those days Khaedra just observed him, rarely saying anything, never asking questions. On the fourth day she surprised Errus by telling him that she knew a place where he could be safe. A small hut far from the town limit, barely standing after years of neglect, but still in decent enough condition for a man to hide out in.
Most kids have their own secret play ground, whether its a hut, a tree house, or some odd twisted cave formation. Khaedra was no different. The hut had been her little play ground, her sanctuary. She had a small treasure of broken toys Amarrian kids had discarded, shiny rocks, drawings she had made that showed her self and how things could have been if her parents where still alive. All the things she wanted to keep safe, make sure no one could ruin or spoil for her. Thus, taking Errus there had been a hard decision for her, but she never regretted it.

During the next few months Khaedra would bring him food and clothing when she could get her hands on some, often handed to her by other slaves that knew about Errus and had heard the rumors about his families demise.
For Khaedra this was one of the most powerful events that helped her understand how loyal the Minmatar people are to their own people. This man was a traitor, a man who, if ever discovered, would have nothing but death to look forward to. And anyone who assisted him would meet the same faith. Yet people kept giving her clothes to bring him, sneaking food out of their masters kitchens and other various things that is essential for a comfortable living.
It made her proud to call her self a Minmatar.

Some whispering in the back of the room caught her attention and she titled her head just a tiny bit, enough to see them out of the corner of her eye. It was that new kid, the heir, and a boy named Zoriac.

She actually liked Zoriac. A couple of years older then her, his definition already becoming more clear. High cheek bones, black ruffled hair that looked like he had never seen a comb in his entire life, and pale blue eyes. More then anything those eyes attracted her, always a hint of a teasing glimt, but yet serious. Made it hard to read him, causing him to appear more...mysterious...alluring.
Zoriac noticed her looking, and smiled at her. Khaedra quickly went back to staring a the invisible spot on her desk feeling her self blush.

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 6

A few hours later Khaedra found her self sitting on the edge of a fountain in the school park, her finger tips casually playing with the the surface of the water.
She often came here during breaks, or after school.
This particular fountain was secluded, hidden away, and the old dark trees made you feel like you were surrounded, dampening the sounds from the outside world. The fountain portrayed an Amarrian male kneeling next to a Slaver Hound. The Slaver was baring its teeth, eyes fixed on whatever the Amarrian male was pointing towards.
It was not a nice statue, and she did not like to sit in front of the Slaver or its master, but sat next to them, her back turned towards whatever they were looking at.

Suddenly she felt someone grabbed her braid, pulling her head back and next thing she knows she is staring up into Zoriac's grinning face.
"Hey girlie! If i hadent knows better i would think you were avoiding me!" he said while pretending to sound hurt.
"I'm sorry Zoriac, its just that sitting listening to you brag about how great you are to that new kid all day has left me with a massive headache which the only cure for is avoiding self important brats such as your self".
For a moment they just stared at each other, still seeing each other upside down, then Khaedra,realizing how silly they must look, started to laugh uncontrollably and Zoriac quickly followed.
Releasing her hair he sat down next to her, watching her move her neck, getting rid of the tension after having kept it in such an unusual position.
After the laughing ended, Zoriac broke the silence.
"I saw you looking at me in class today."
Khaedra dident say anything, just kept letting her fingers run trough the cool water.Zoriac looked at her for a few seconds, then pretended to be really interested in his surroundings.
"So whats so special about this place? It took me a half hour just to find you, and with a hiding place like this its just luck that i found you at all."
Khaedra shrugged.
"Well.. if you don't want people to bother you hiding is the only option. Thus, i go here. None of the other kids go here, not even the grounds keeper, so i always have the place for my self. Until today at least." She briefly looked at him as she said the last part, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"Don't worry, i wont spill your secret, you know that." He looked at her with his most charming smile and she cursed him for the fact that he could always win her over. She never managed to stay angry at him. Zoriac grinned knowing he had won.
"So the new kid..Idonis.. He actually dosent seem that bad. You would think being an heir and all that he would act like he was better then everyone else, but he seemed.. normal... Just another kid." Zoriac looked thought full for a moment then added "He has an eye for you tho, but thats nothing unusual..Seems like everyone drools over you, Amarr or Minmatar."
Khaedra grunted. "I wish they wouldent. I don't like it when people stare at me. It makes me uncomfortable."
Zoriac looked at her with a sad expression. "I know.. and i wish i could help. But know that i will always watch out for you. I wont allow anyone to hurt you."
He put his arm around her, and she let her head rest on his shoulder.

After a few minutes Zoriac broke the silence.
"Are you going to see Errus today?"
"I was planning on it. Its been a couple of days since i have seen him now, and i enjoy listening to him. His stories about his life, his son, all the people he has met and things he has seen. Its fascinating." She stretched lazily, moving away from Zoriac. "Will you come with me?"
He looked at her and grinned "Your not the only one that enjoys the company of the old man, so yes, i would love to come with you."

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 7

Errus was sitting outside the hut, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin, now whole with no other indications of what he had gone trough but faint scars around his wrists where the constraints had been.
It had been a long day. He had become sort of a hero among the Minmatar slaves living on the planet, and while many very still reluctant to come and meet him in person, more came to see him every day.
Some of them just wanted to greet him, a bit of polite courtesy talk, dropping off some small gift then leave. Others wanted to ask him questions about his previous life, how it felt to have been a slave for so long and now be free. Well as free as you could feel while you were a fugitive at least.
But some of them wanted more. While never saying it directly he could feel their hate towards their masters, towards their own life for accepting having to serve someone else for generation after generation.
He never knew what to tell these people. He knew what they wanted, his blessing to kill their masters. Some indication or word that would make them feel it was "ok" to take the life of someone you have feared and bowed down to your whole life. The people you have come to depend on because you dont know how to function without someone ordering you around.
So far he has been content with just listening to them, careful to not encourage their ideas and wishes, but still avoiding crushing them, while pondering how he can use the situation to his advantage.

The sound of breaking branches and laughter caught his attention, and shortly after he could see the perpetrators who had disturbed his solace this quiet afternoon.
"Can you two kids be more noisy?" he growled as they got closer, not really angry, but wanting to get some of his frustration out of his system.
Khaedra and Zoriac halted, keeping their distance until Errus gave them a motion to come closer and sit down on the wooden log that worked as a bench across from him.
"So how are you two kids doing this fine day. Anything new and interesting happening?"
Khaedra shrugged indifferently, leaving it to Zoriac to answer him. "A new kid started at school today,he seems ok." Zoriac looked thoughtful for a moment then added with a grin "He has an eye for Khaedra tho."
"Does he now? And im assuming that Khaedra is not to pleased with the attention considering the scowl on her face." Errus responded grinning back at Zoriac.
While Zoriac was Amarr, he was also Khaedras best friend, and she had told him about Errus the day after Errus had ended up on the planet. As time moved on she had come to understand how much danger she had potentially put Errus in, but Zoriac had never told anyone about him.
Because of this Errus had come to trust and enjoy the company of the boy.
"Why would i take it as a compliment that a spoiled little brat like that kid looks at me? I bet he stares at any girl the same way, and expect all of them to faint as soon as they see him just because he is the heir!" she hissed while staring at them, giving them a glimpse of the angry look on her face, before she went back to studying her feets.
Zoriac shrank next to her, but Errus leaned forward and looked studied Khaedra closely.
"This boy is the heir? And am i correct in assuming that if he was not an heir you would not mind the fact that he has taken a liking to you? Most girls would be flattered to be in your position Khaedra."
"Well maybe im not like any girl then." she said, still looking down into the ground.
Errus looked at Zoriac, and without speaking they decided to not push the subject any further.
However, while he kept the conversation neural and careful for the next hour, talking to them about school, his new life on the planet, his mind was starting to form ideas and plans.

Now the only question was, if he could make his plan work, if he could use this to his advantage, would it be right to abuse the innocent girl, who's only mistake was to save the life of a traitor?

[Callista Dalmore]

Part 8

Starkmanir Prime – Hamri palace, audience chamber

“The reports, Holder Hamri, are at the least, how shall I say? Troubling?” stated the holographic figure dressed in Amarr diplomatic uniform.  He continued, “You are treading a very fine line, my friend, if there is truth to them”.

Arzad Hamri clasped his hands together and replied confidently, “It is the will of God, my good Arkon.We bring them the holy light of truth in scripture.If good Amarrians also learn trade and crafts from them, what can be the harm? Truly it is a situation where everyone benefits.”He’d been preparing for this ever since he’d had the dream. He knew it would bring change and if there was anything The Council was against, it was change.

“They do not think so,” rebuked Arkon Ardishapur.

Trying not to let his exasperation show Arzad answers, “They would cry blasphemy and anathema to whatever I would propose, you know that! The inertia of their past successes has blinded them to the possibility of integration! Think of the souls we could save if I were successful! Rather than sending them back to be reborn, we could save them now, in this incarnation.  Wouldn’t you say that is worth at least consideration?”

“It is not the souls you are saving, Arzad, it is those which are at risk of being lost.  As it is written:  “Be Careful. Pure Thought is the Instigator of Sin.  Be Watchful. Free thought is the Begetter of Disorder…” started Arkon.

“Don’t quote scriptures to me!” cried out Arzad. “Do you not think I am a good Amarrian?  That I do not deserve to be Holder, that I do not give my all to our Emperor?  Every day I wake and do God’s work, from sun rise to sunset on seven different worlds now. And everywhere I have been, I see souls lost to hate, to pain to revenge.  Those that are put down come back and the echoes of their sins back with them and around and around we go.  Since you allowed yourself to quote to me, let me return the favour:

So the Lord sent forth the Chosen,
to bring forth the light of faith
And those who embrace his love
Shall be saved by his grace
For we are his shepherds in the darkness
His Angels of Mercy.
 
“I tell you now, Arkon, I bring forth the light of faith to the heathen of this world.  These Starkmanir learn so quickly and so well, it is as if they had already been shown the way.  Perhaps our own fallen have been brought back as some of them?”

Startled, Arkon drew a quick breath and began to cough chokingly. When his spasms subsided, he managed, weakly, “It is of incredible luck that the only direct link to you is this encrypted line! Inquisitors have been dispatched for less, Arzad! Are you insane? How could you ever say such a thing? They are Minmatar! Spiritually they are hardly above breeding stock! You have already earned the wrath of several members of The Families, and if you do not wish to lose any more you will seek penance for these thoughts!”

He’d gone too far, too fast, thought Arzad. He’d not laid out his arguments, he’d rushed to the conclusions, no matter how breathtakingly beautiful they were, and was near breaking his friend. Tact. Patience. Why were they always so elusive to him? The tone Arkon had taken was unmistakable; he would have to make amends.

“You are right Arkon, I have let my mind run wild with the joy I have had at the successes here on Starkmanir. They have clouded my judgement and will do penance. You may request a Flagellant to oversee my penance,” said Arzad.

Arkon considered the request even as his blood ran cold. The ritual expunging of sin through an ordeal of the flesh had once been common but hadn’t been in seen in many years. However, the suggestion had many merits, especially in light of the reports.
 
Sighing heavily, he addressed Arzad. “Yes my friend, that would in fact go a long way to repairing the damage you have made to your relationship with The Council. Have it done publicly so that all may know of your straying from the path of righteousness and learn from it. I will make the necessary arrangements.”

The hologram vanished.

Arzad looked about his audience chamber, at the emptiness of it. The knock at his door startled him.

“Yes, come in?” he beckoned.

The Heir, Idonis Ardishapur, walked into the room and bowed properly.He then asked, “You asked me to see you Holder Hamri?”

“Ah, Idonis,” said Arzad as he rose from his throne, “yes, I did ask.I am so pleased you were able to take time away from your studies to visit me. Come in, come in and have a seat. Are you hungry, thirsty?”

“No, Sir, Thank you for offering,” replied Idonis.

“I was just speaking to your father, he is very proud of you and of your progress at the education center,” said Arzad.

“I try to please him, and God, sir,” answered Idonis.

“Spoken like a true Heir!” exclaimed Arzad, “Excellent. Excellent.”

Arzad considered his next move carefully. After a moment, he said, “I understand you have taken a liking to a certain girl in your class?”

The Heir’s deep blush was all Arzad needed to see.

[NightCrawler 85]

Part 9

"Stupid old fool!"
Errus could feel spittle hitting his face as Drupar kept yelling.
"So far our 'meetings' have been nothing but vague ideas! And lets not forget the countless hours filled with mindless chatter while a bunch of cowards sit twiddling their thumbs pretending they are doing something important!"
Drupar glared at Errus and mockingly said "You are the self proclaimed leader of these people, its about time you man up and act as one instead of wasting everyones time."
Errus took a deep breath and slowly counted to ten.
Drupar Maak.. A very important person in the Ardishapur family, mainly because of the fact that he worked side by side with the Emperor as his secretary. The information Drupar could provide was essential to the cause, and he knew that if they lost Drupar, they could just as well give up before they had even started. Still it was difficult to put up with his attitude, and while Drupar was a much needed asset to the cause, he was also a risk.
Publicly Drupar was known as being calm, level headed, and providing the Emperor with good constructive advice that had benefited both the Amarr and Minmatar alike. However, on a personal level he had bad a temper, no patience, and his fame had gone to his head making him very cocky and demanding. He almost always lost his cool whenever someone dared to question him or disagreed with his advice, something that often frustrated Errus to beyond belief.
How he managed to hide these traits around the emperor was beyond Errus, but it also helped prove just how good of an actor Drupar was, when needed.

Khaedra, who had been sitting at the table yawned and stretched, deliberately overdoing it, as to make it obvious how bored she was and how little Drupars outburst affected her.
Seven years had passed since Errus first proposed the idea that she should get closer with the heir, and while it had taken a lot of smooth talking and persuasion from his part, she had reluctantly agreed. The "friendship" between her and the heir had eventually lead him to Drupar, who had quickly agreed to join the cause. Of course things had been made even easier with Zoriac befriending the heir early on, so any information that the heir dident trust Khaedra with he would rely to Zoriac who in turn delivered the information to either him self or Khaedra.

Zoriac and Khaedra's relationship had grown increasingly complicated over the years.
It was obvious that they had feelings for each other, and Errus knew that while they werent officially in a relationship their flirting had increased over the years. But Zoriac also knew that Khaedra had to pretend to be in love with the heir, and emotionally it was rough on both of them. Which had become a lot more obvious with Khaedra the closer she got to her teenage years.
She had grown more distant and cold with him. She often participated in their meetings, and she often mocked the participants. Never something really obvious, just small things and comments with a sly smile. Enough to make even the emperors soldiers, hardened by years of mental and physical abuse, training and fighting blush while grinding their teeth's trying to control their anger.
Errus knew that part of it was because she was still angry at him, or at least wanted to be, giving her someone to blame for the things she has had to do. But he also suspected that some of it was her way of lashing out at the world for the unfair position she felt forced into, more by a sense of responsibility towards her fellow people then anything else. So he let her keep doing it, and he kept her in the meetings and involved in more or less everything that was going on, and gave her tasks he felt he could trust no one else with.

Errus looked Drupar straight in the eyes, but his tone was mild.
"I can understand your frustration, but if we make a move right now.. its simply to risky. We only have a couple of houndred people, and very few of them that are in positions where they can really do something that will make a difference. If we tried something it would only lead to a lot of meaningless deaths, and we would be made an example out of to ensure that no one else ever dared to try something similar."
Drupar grunted and looked away.
"The problem is that no matter how many people we get you will keep saying the same thing. Your right, few of them are in powerful positions. But you have people like me, im his secretary for crying out loud! I alone could cause havoc, and the captains could start giving out fake orders, causing a lot of "casualties" on what would appear as routine missions, efficiently cutting down his army and breaking their morale, which in turn would get us more recruits. Use the people we do have!"
"And you dont think half his army going missing on "routine missions" would make him suspicious? Or he would start to wonder if he found his secretary snooping around in his private chambers forging his signature? I know you want to see action, but we need to wait for the perfect opportunity before we strike. And before we can even do that we need a plan! Right now we have nothing."
Errus shock his head.
"Im sorry Drupar, but unless you had an epiphany while you where sleeping last night, all the ideas we have would be suicide for us, the cause, and a lot of innocent people that has done nothing wrong except being suspected of being related to those who supports us."
"So come up with something! Your supposed to be the brain behind all off this, but so far the only "clever" thing you did was asking that bitch of yours to fuck the Heirs brains out. Not that that has done us any good so far since i have ways of getting the exact same information, and I'm a more reliable source anyway."
Before Errus could respond Khaedra started to talk.
"Is that really what you think of me Drupar? A bitch.. Very interesting. I would think that you more then anyone would understand how difficult and frustrating it is to always have to pretend, to hide who you are, what you are. And that you would also be able to appreciate the fact that I, just like you, know that if my deceit is ever discovered I would not see another sunrise. Perhaps your jealousy has clouded your mind."
She looked at Drupar, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth, staring at him without blinking, piercing him with her eyes.
"I have seen you watching me and the heir. Watched him caress my body, watched me naked with him, pleasing him. You wish it was you don't you? That you got to touch me just like he does. And all you get to play with is a cheap whore once in a while when your "master" is done ordering you around for the night."
Drupar gave her a look of pure fury, and made a move towards her.
Errus quickly stepped in between them and Khaedra causally leaned back and just kept staring at Drupar with that small smile remaining on her lips.
"Maybe your right Drupar. Things have been moving to slowly, and who knows, maybe you are right and I am just an old fool. But at the same time you have to understand that we only have one chance at this. Never in our recorded history has something on this scale been done, and the small attempts that has occurred only lead to more pain and misery for our people."
Errus took a breath, then continued allowing both his desperation and passion to show in his voice.
"We share a common goal, ending it! And I know that with your help we can do it, we can give our people the freedom they deserve. A chance to be happy and not have to live in fear because we were born as the "wrong race", ashamed because we will never be accepted, never be as good as the Amarr. But, if we start to fight amongst our self we can just as well call it quits right now, and the sacrifices you, Khaedra, the guards, the advisors, I... all of us... have already done will be for nothing."
Drupar looked at Errus and snarled.
"So what do you propose we do? We cant waste more time on chatter, we have to start coming up with a concrete plan, get more of the higher ups involved, find his weaknesses."
"I don't know, but I want you to help me. I know that right now I'm considered the "leader" of this rebellion, but I think that its about time that changes."
Errus took a deep breath, knowing he was probably making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.
"I want you to become my right hand man. For the public you will be the one that leads the operation while I'm just your advisor. This will enable you to issue commands, get things done when needed, as well as make us look stronger for those that are still doubting us. Your rank within the Amarr will make people take us a lot more seriously, and sway them to join our cause."
Errus halted for a second, then quietly added.
"And, if we can pull this off, you will be forever remembered as a hero amongst the Minmatar people, our savior."

Drupar appeared to take a moment to consider, but Errus knew that the mans greed for attention and fame had already decided for him. He just hoped that he would be able to control him, and prevent Drupar from doing something that they all would regret.

[Callista Dalmore]

Starkmanir Prime – Hamri palace, holding cells

“It’s time,” said the gravelly voice from deep within his hooded robes.  His black robes were shot through with red calligraphy of an age gone by and stood in gory contrast to the blazing brightness of the hallway.  His retinue of four polyweave armored bodyguards was augmented by an equal contingent of Hamri House guards who looked nervously to Arkon Ardishapur for consent to execute the command.

Arkon looked through the holding cell’s monocrystal window at the naked figure lying upon the medical cot, still manacled at the ankles and wrists.  A single filament rose upwards from a small circular bandage on his right temple to where it disappeared into the ceiling. His eyes were open and stared upwards, unblinking and unmoving.  His face was relaxed and peaceful and his breathing was deep and regular.

His body, however, told an altogether different story.  Massive lined welts rose criss-cross seemingly everywhere: his feet, legs, his arms and hands.  Large regions of skin on his upper thighs and chest had turned black and erupted in blisters some of which had given way and clear liquid either pooled or ran freely across the devastated skin.  A grotesque patchwork of blue and purple and yellow bruises covered the rest.  His knees were both swollen to such a size as to have deep divets at each kneecap.  Each joint in his arms, from should to elbow to each and every finger seemed to have suffered the same fate.

With some effort he unclenched his fists and then his jaw, and nodded.

Two of the house guards quickly stepped forward.  As one keyed in the appropriate sequence on the door’s number pad, the other took hold of the chromed handle and pulled.  A low hiss could be heard as the environment seal was ruptured and the thick door swung outwards. The remaining two guards stepped though and assumed positions on each side of the entrance, their weapons drawn but pointed to the floor.

“You know what must be done, Heir Arkon Ardishapur,” said the robed figure next to him.

Arkon, his face frozen in a mask of feigned composure, stared a little longer at his friend through the glass.

“Wake him,” said Arkon.


10 days earlier – Office of the Ministry of Internal Order, Bashakru

He sat at his desk and puzzled as the last of the trid message unspooled for the second time, “…and thus, I would sincerely hope that this message be submitted to his excellency at his earliest convenience,  yours with God, Arzad Hamri of Starkmanir.”  He leaned forward, laced his fingers and rested his head upon them.  Khanos Belaak had been and was still, surprised by the request.  Khanos didn’t like surprises.  They made him feel, unclean.

Apparently the Ardishapur’s had a holder who had taken it upon themselves to “educate” their slaves in the Amarrian way.  This was of little interest; it had been done countless times in countless ways for ages.  What was of interest was the fact that very same holder was now requesting a public correction.   Why?  Who would want to subject themselves to that ridiculous custom, on purpose?

The other piece of the puzzle was Starkmanir, he’d had to look it up, there were simply so many systems.  It was a fairly ordinary system and the habitable temperate planet seemed altogether mediocre in all respects.  The history even mentioned that the subjugation had been one of the shortest in known times.

Ardishapur must have something up his sleeve, which, truth be told was a ridiculously redundant thing to think, which Heir didn’t have something up their sleeve?  Their constant jostling for position continued to be the single most disruptive activity to his Ministry’s mission.  Couldn’t the Emperor simply do away with the whole Heir nonsense?  It would make keeping order that much simpler.  But those thoughts were also worthless and blasphemous and so he added five Our God-My God’s to his daily repentance.

Khanos had risen fairly quickly in the Ministry and in no small part due to his intuition for things that are amiss.  And his intuition certainly yelled that right now.  However the surveillance tech who had intercepted the transmission had told him that it had been destined for someone on the Theology Council.  Direct intervention would ruffle feathers over there, so that was out of the question.

The original recipient had been a fairly low-level priest, a certain Vanalan Cariif who was tenth or eleventh circle if he remembered correctly.  Requesting a public correction from the Theology Council but requesting it directly from a low level officer…who was, who exactly?  He brought up the Vanalan’s datafile and browsed through the priest’s background.  As expected, he’d served with Arkon on Starkmanir for his Becoming.  Ahh, fifteen. Such an impressionable age.  Yes, Khanos saw it now.  The Heir must have impressed the youth so much that now he felt he could possibly use some misplaced loyalties.  As for Vanalan, well getting a call from an Heir could do nothing but advance his career, if handled properly.

Khanos called up his contact list on the Theology Council.  He was about to make sure that it was handled improperly.  Very much so.