Eternal Heavens Disclaimer: I'm poor, so don't bother sueing. I only own my original characters. Hell, I don't even own some of them, heh. I don't own any Tenchi characters. To be honest I can't afford them, though I think I'm handling them better than AIC is. >_< Author's forword: I warned you all; I'm going to meander around a lot. Trust me though, all loose ends will come together...though I expect if they don't I'll be beat 'til I'm black and blue. Heh. Now I'll beg for C&C (hey it works for Morgan Hudson, sorry dude, just had to point that out. ^_-)!!! PLEASE OH PLEASE CORRECT ME!!! ^_^ I'm at kthardin@yahoo.com , so feel free! ^_^ Gathering of the Children -Vengeance Come to Me Among the greatest mysteries of life is the one that states, "Looks can and are almost always deceiving." Which should lead one to wonder why we are given such a sense, if it quite often feeds us such false information. That answer is actually very simple. It is not the sight that is false, but our own perception of it that leads said sight to be false. Take for example, The Hall. The Hall, for that was the name given to the place by those who had built it, stood silent; save for the rustling of clothing as those present fidgeted or walked about on some errand or another. Not a word was spoken aloud; barely any were whispered. Most of the people simply sat in the tiered seats of the hall; many of whom glanced at each other in thinly veiled hatred. Some others noted the glances among their neighbors and made plans to take advantage of the situation for whatever reason, be it for alliances or for treachery. Still others typed on data pads on the tables provided before them, checking on various reports, issuing orders, and even sending written messages to loved ones. Other forms of communication were also being employed...from runners to subspace comms, from semaphore to interdimensional warping. Though perhaps one would think direct mind to mind communication would be by far the fastest and most useful. Possible misunderstandings such as, "I am going to kill you in ways that will make your descendants feel it for the next twelve generations," would be avoided, as the meanings and feelings would be made perfectly clear; and the lag time between such messages would be absolutely zero. Certainly all in the room were capable of simple telepathy and more, but not one would dare power up even a whiff in a room filled with people ready to kill each other. Despite the look and feel of a more organized Wall Street stock exchange, this large group of people made the cutthroat economics of that particular institution look like the play of only a few day old kittens. There was enough hatred and instilled anger (much of which had become genetic by this point) that were anyone to even think about gathering the minute amounts of energy necessary to send the shortest of transmissions that one would wind up contracting himself a rather bad case of perished as weapons of nearly every conceivable type were shoved through all his vital organs in alpha-numeric order. Needless to say, this is something most would choose to avoid if they could. Even if that were not enough to cause the stupidest soul to quake with fear at such a fate, a simple look to the north end of the hall where the tiered seating trailed off and then into a throne which took up the entire north end, would be all that was needed. Its beauty was awe-inspiring. It was fashioned from hyper-dense, multi- colored crystal that spread out from the obsidian seat, perfectly situated on the floor right in the center of the northern wall. The light from the suns, that filtered through the skylight above reflected off the crystal in ways that made their colors seem to shift and move all over its wide expanse, and doubly so when both suns were high in the sky. Truly a sight to behold for anyone; yet this wonder was not what caused the fear that would have cowed even the most insane of spirits. It was the darkness, the inky blackness which seemed to suck up the light refracted by the crystaline seat of power, who resided there. It was the man who occasionally looked up from his data pad and, in that glance of baleful purple within purple eyes, gazed at everyone in a way that promised one day he was going to kill everyone in that room with his bare hands...slowly. It was him, that evoked the terror which kept those in the hall from displaying even the least of their natural abilities. For it was known also, that the man, who was named Emperor (for who else would have the gall to sit on such a grand seat?), had the power to do such a thing, and quite possibly all those in the hall combined would not have the power to stop him. Indeed, he was known to be the strongest of their race. The fact that there had been others stronger before him, one of which was his very own father who had killed the first Emperor in single combat, was of no consequence now. All that was relevant was that the man sitting on that throne was the one who was now the most powerful of all...and more than enough to eliminate them in any case. Strange, many thought, that the Emperor of their entire race would seemingly hold nearly all of them in murderous contempt. The way he glanced up every so often ever since he was elevated to his august rank many centuries ago, had only gotten steadily worse; and still chilled each and every one of them to the bone when he did let his eyes rove the various leaders, military commanders, delegates, representatives, and what have you that actually ran his empire and all the clans, families, and other associations therein. "WILL THE EMPEROR OF ALL TETRAN CONSENT TO RECEIVE THE HEIR?" A startled silence followed and all activity ceased. All eyes turned toward the large ceremonial doors, and it's guardian who had made the announcement, that covered the southern end of the hall. Like the throne, it too was constructed of the same multicolored crystal and took up the entire expanse of the southern wall, and the tiered seating tapered off before it reached said entrance. The man on the throne looked up from the forms on his table, his eyes boring into the door's guardian with such an intensity that it was no wonder the protector was not reduced to a pile of ash on the spot. It seemed the Emporer spoke barely above a whisper, yet no one could deny that they heard the words he spoke or the power that was carried with them when he said "Let the Heir come forth." The doors on the south wall began to lumber open soundlessly, and impossibly without mechanics, for they were too large for simple physical strength to be used without destroying the door. Still no one did so much as touch the shimmering brilliance around it, and still it opened outward of the room. At the same time, the Emporer's desk withdrew into the floor; removing all barrieres between himself and the Heir. Within moments it was revealed that it was indeed a solitary man that was causing this to happen. He stood, with his arms stretched out before him, opening wider as the door moved...a force that shimmered and warped the air emanating from his arms and surrounding the doors. His body shimmered in a soft colored orange light as the power continued to flow from to open the doors with the utmost care. A most interesting effect; considering the reflective property of his blue colored full body armor. A strange thing happened to those in the room then. Where before everyone had their own agenda, now all combined looked upon this newcomer with a mutual respect and, in some cases, adoration. All put aside their hatred, their anger, and their imperative to kill their neighbor and practically genuflected in the Heir's presence, as he walked through those massive doors with a small entourage in tow. The aura remained around him, as he used it to smooth back his long blue- black hair and close the doors behind him in a far less melodramatic fashion. This man was not pretty in any way shape or form, but his power did not lie with his looks. He carried his power with sheer force of will; he radiated authority and charisma in such mass quantities that one could not help but give him the respect he demanded. He could be walking into The Hall right now, naked as the day he was born, and still command the very same obeisance. Well, maybe not the same, as it would be likely that the females present would be in various stages of fainting, but then again that could be considered a form of err...respect. Maybe. Quite a number of the female persuasion were almost at that point regardless of his clothing. Still it was a strange thing that when he came here this time for all his attention was directed at the seat of power itself; his face set in an expression of cold inscrutability. Considering he was smiles and nods during previous visits, this was indeed a cause for some concern. It seemed that the Heir had bad news for the Throne. All wondered what it could be. Was the empire being invaded? Had perhaps the Juraians or some other empire declared openly hostile intentions? Did some sort of disaster, such as the great T'larian massacre, happen? Speculation, such as this, was inevitable, but quickly pushed aside and dismissed as needless. They would know the answer soon enough. Some eyes then roved over those that came with the Heir. Behind him, walked his wife and his daughter. A vision of loveliness his wife was, with strange hair that would seem to shift colors from white to purple in patterns that responded to the way the suns would hit her tresses through the crystalline skylight above them. She too wore the severely metallic blue armor, but in her case it only highlighted what was already a flawless figure. Indeed, she was the target of much jealousy and envy by the women present; for she had the most perfect figure, and the most desirable husband that could be imagined. Not only that, but she was wise in the ways of politics, and a shrewd commander, both on the field and in the home. She was the perfect compliment to her husband, who shared that genius. Honestly, if ever they decided it was time to remove the current holder of The Throne, they would find all the support they could ever hope to have within the families of The Eternal Tetranian Empire. This despite the fact it would be suicide for them to try. It was also easy to see, however, that as those in The Hall looked upon the pair with a worshipful adoration, the Heir and his wife looked upon the Emporer in the same fasion. Their daughter however... How was it possible that two, who were so perfect and so perfectly matched, could produce...that?! She had inherited what seemed nothing of what either of her parents should have provided her. She was rather thin and underdeveloped, and quite a bit shorter than them both; which caused the blue armor she wore to seem to hang off her pre-pubescent frame. Her hair was an unhealthy looking shade of platinum blond, which was rather stringy and unkempt, though if you were her maids, they'd tell you how impossible it was to do anything with her tresses. Worst of all her eyes, which were the same blue on blue color as her parents, and seemingly the only trait she had inherited from either, had a vacant look to them. Perhaps even a bit of boredom, but whatever it was, it was certain to those present she was hardly the genius she should have been, considering who she had for parents. All three began to traverse the distance to the seat of power itself, their foot steps being the only thing heard in The Hall as all had grown silent after sensing the Heir's move. They stepped in time, each amplifying the other, and all echoing loudly off the walls surrounding them, seeming to herald in a doom that would shortly be realized. As the Heir and his family passed, each felt the passage of the One Who Brings Eternal Night in his bone. None could escape the chill it brought. All too briefly, the steps ended, and the three stood face to face with their lord and master. They kneeled before him upon one knee; their heads hanging low. "You have failed." If one could have seen the faces of the Heir and his wife, a slight tightening, akin to the reaction to the pain of taking a blow, would have been evident at the Emperor's statement. Their daughter, at least, knew enough to keep silent being that she was way out of her depth. The Emperor stood then, his table sinking into the floor; he stood, and kept on standing. He stood until he was fully erect, all seven feet of him. He was indeed very tall, but he was also incredibly broad of shoulder; making him a veritable Titan physically. Like the Heir, he too projected an aura that demanded the respect due him, but unlike the Heir, it was not the kind that instilled loyalty through love, but then that was more than evident before. Now, standing at full attention, the menace that he exuded permeated the room; overpowering the respect those in the room bore the Heir. There was calculation, consideration, even curiosity, but mostly fear. For he had failed. The HEIR had failed. It was hardly conceivable, considering the Heir had never failed at any task set before him, no matter how daunting. Still it was known that the Emperor had little tolerance for failure, and usually only one punishment was administered. This was the Heir though. Surely there would only be a small penance for this, before he was sent to correct this error...whatever it happened to be. It was inconceivable that there would be anything else. "How long has it been? Seven-hundred years? Eight-hundred?" The Emperor asked casually. "I asked you to look into why our empire was suffering what looked to be some sort of attack upon our sovereign. Pirate raids, random destruction, and even whole lesser families being destroyed every now and then. Yet you report that there is no clue, there is no trace? No god we might have offended? No revolutionary activity? No setup for a possible coup attempt of any family? Not even a chain of natural disasters? Nothing, but destruction for no rhyme or reason, and completely random." As the Emperor spoke, his voice became more and more hoarse, his anger seeping through, and in doing so agitating the wound he suffered to his throat long before he became the Emperor. If one were to look closely, assuming they dared to, one could still see the messy scar right along his voice box. There are many stories as to how he might have acquired it. Some say he dueled the original Emperor in The Hall, and was wounded in this manner before his father interfered and finally put the old Emperor down once and for all. Others said he received this wound as some kind of lesson in his training as a Deneign warrior priest; the symbol for which was branded forever more on the back his left hand; that of a Dragon, wings spread wide, atop a Phoenix, screaming with joy as if it had just arose from its ashes, signaling it's rebirth. The most unbelievable one, however, was that he was defending his second wife in one of the innumerable battles that took place between the families as they jockeyed for position in the ranks of their empire. In that one it was said he did indeed fight the Emperor himself, as the K'thardin family to which he hailed had grown so strong as to challenge the old Emperor's power. Rather than kill his enemy, the Emperor rendered him helpless, wounded his voice (which was said to actually be his most beautiful feature, for what is a handsome man) and then forced him to watch as he raped and murdered his second wife; which was meant to be a message to both him and everyone else that to attempt to usurp the throne was to invite a fate worse than death. While that story was not believed by most, it did amuse all somewhat. For if true, it was quite obvious now, that little message had the opposight effect. Then again, it would be another explanation why the current Emperor did what he did to the one he usurped just after the old Emperor's defeat. The old Emperor screamed for forty days and nights before he was finally allowed to die. During that time the current Emperor and his father carted all the current heads of the families and the various other associations in to watch the entire gruesome ordeal. Needless to say that assassination and coup attempts were few and far between. Now what the Emperor was saying about the attacks were well known to all present. In fact, most of them had suffered from these...disasters in various degrees ranging from the equivalent of a bug bite to having one's legs and arms slowly chewed off. That the Heir could not find the cause of this was disturbing in and of itself. "The most you have gotten for us is that all of these occurrences are related somehow. You received this information from the oracles, prophets, and truth-sayers that are in our fair empire. A dubious, but as of yet, ONLY source of information." The Emperor walked toward the kneeling Heir and his entourage. Kneeling down, he placed his hands upon the shoulders of the Heir, and lifted him to standing; though he only came up to the Emperor's chest and kept his head bowed before the taller man. His wife and his daughter were then silently motioned to rise as well; haltingly they did so, keeping their heads low as well. "You who were responsible for conquering the Jinai, the last of the autonomous empires within this galaxy and facilitating its assimilation into ours. You who discovered why and how the T'larian family was annihilated (may we never offend the Mad One again). You who actually negotiated a peaceful settlement with the Juraians over the intergalactic trade routes between our two galaxies. You who have never failed at any other deed and task I set before you." His scratchy voice grew quiet again, but as before all heard what was said as clear as distilled water. "C'mon! This is really messing The Empire up. Not only is it inconveniencing us, it's making a fool of us. Of all of us! Every man woman and child in the empire! Did you lose your pride, man? Are you not the Heir to all Tetran? Are you not the one who will inherit everything when your time for ruling comes?" "Please My Lord! Please! My husband has serv..." As quickly as the Heir's wife tried to speak in her husband's defense, so too was she silenced as the Emperor cast a baleful glance in her direction. The daughter began to tremble ever so slightly, as the enormity of the situation began to sink into her young mind and fear began to take over. "Have you nothing to say for...yourself?" The Heir's head shot up, and for a brief moment anger flashed across his eyes at the Emperor's somewhat obscure insult registered upon his mind. Quickly dismissed as the Heir nearly broke down in tears before his master and said with as much humility as he could muster, "I beg of you My Emperor Ryuken. I only wish to serve you. I beg for another chance. This will not happen again, I swear to you on my soul." "Indeed," the Emperor nodded his head grimly, "This will not happen again." It happened so fast; that it seemed nothing had happened at all. Yet, the Emperor's movement, and flash of power, was felt. The two of them stood there for what seemed an eternity, before both the Heir and his wife fell heavily to their knees making a clanking sound that echoed throughout The Hall. They hovered in that position momentarily, then they fell to the floor limply in unison, their armor ringing out, like a final tolling of the bells at midnight. Only when they hit the ground, did their heads roll from their bodies; their faces still set in masks of humility, and now set like that forevermore. A shocked silence fell over The Hall, no one believing what had just happened. Surely..? How..? What...? Can't be...just...can't be. No one spoke, but they did move; many to rise from their seats, and even one to draw her weapons. How could the Emperor possibly do...THAT!? The Emperor eyes noted the bright flash of a psi weapon being activated, and with the barest flicker of his power, destroyed it's source. Not to mention a few other unlucky individuals that happened to be too close to her. Everyone sat back down quickly as his eyes roved over each again, promising he'd do the same given even a fraction of an excuse. "It is true this will not happen again," the Emperor Ryuken stated as he continued to gaze at the congregation before him, "but it is also true I now need a new Heir." Without hesitation he pointed. "You. You will be my new Heir." And the former Heir's daughter, still unable to believe that her parents were laying dead at her feet, their crimson blood now pooling below her yet not gaining purchase upon her armor, turned a shocked look to her sovereign. All color had drained from her face, and her shaking causing a slight rattling sound as the various bits of her armor tapped against each other. "My first command to you is to complete what your father was incapable of. If you should repeat his failure, this will be your fate. Do you understand, my Heir," he asked placing an extreme emphasis on her new title to drive the reality of it home. A shuddering nod was the only response she was able to give. "Good. Now leave, and when next I send for you, have the answer with you. If you find it before then; make me aware of this." To her credit, though how she did it was anyone's guess, she managed to turn and walk calmly to the huge double doors that were opened by their guardians for her, for once outside, she ran for dear life. The Emperor then instructed the guards to remove the bodies and have the mess up on the seventh tier cleaned up, but all the while he kept an open eye on the masses of the Leaders of the Tetran before him. The daughter of the previous Heir was not someone that the families would follow without question. That ungangly and ugly girl did not have the genius or the charisma that were the trademark of her parents. How could the Emperor make her, of all present, the new Heir? How could the Emperor just KILL THE HEIR LIKE THAT?! Amidst all the outrage, and anger and shame he saw reflected in many faces, Ryuken also saw the beginnings of calculation, of how best to make use of this new situation. He saw alliances crumble, new ones form almost instantly. Old hatreds began to flare up, while new ones were just forming. Others were buried, and forgotten in light of what was done to their Heroes. Yes, Ryuken thought, as he took his place upon the crystalline seat of power. Perfect. A truly satisfied smile appeared on his face. "Let the endgame begin," he said quietly.