Beloved by TransmuteJun, Madilayn
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Chapter 7

Using Time Warp, it only took another three quarters of an hour before Earth came into visual range. Regretfully, Zoltar knew it was time to awaken his Beloved. Whilst he had some comprehension of their exhaustion, the Leader of the Spectran Empire could not be seen arriving on Earth without a proper escort, lest he appear alone and vulnerable to the masses. Additionally, the cockpit of the small transport vessel was covered in blood, and the bodies of the two traitorous pilots and five dead Rigan rebels still littered the floor. No, it wouldn't do to arrive as the solely conscious occupant of the transport in this kind of situation.

"Beloved," he said, gently shaking Shadow by his shoulder. The soft movement instantly awoke him, and his icy blue gaze stared piercingly at Zoltar before shifting, and gazing over the Spectran Leader's shoulder. Shadow's eyes widened and he sat up, as if transfixed.

He was still holding Nox's hand, and Zoltar noticed Shadow squeezing her fingers gently. The subtle pressure was enough to cause her to awaken, and her emerald eyes joined his cerulean ones in mute astonishment.

Zoltar turned, and instantly realized what fascinated his Beloved. The blue-green visage of Earth, so different from the orange-yellow appearance of Spectra, held them in its thrall. The Spectran Leader cursed himself for a fool for not anticipating this development. To be fair, he had many other concerns on his mind, but this only made his desire to visit with Anderson more urgent.

He looked up to see Blade also awake and staring at the viewscreen. Quickly, Zoltar re-programmed the main viewscreen to show the view to the rear view from the transport vessel, instead of what lay ahead.

Shadow blinked rapidly, as if only waking up just now, and then turned toward Zoltar.

"Master," he said slowly, as if struggling to recall the word, "are we landing?"

"Yes, Beloved." Zoltar replied. "We will be at our destination shortly."

Shadow nodded sharply, pulling himself together as the spacecraft jolted its way through the atmosphere. Zoltar returned his attention to the autopilot, instructing it to take them to the Main Docking Port for Center City, which was the largest metropolis on the planet, and the seat of the Spectran Governor, a man by the name of Gantor.

Zoltar did not know where his Beloved had lived on Earth Before. He did not wish to remind them of their pasts, and yet, he had to land somewhere. Center City was the obvious choice, being the base of Spectran rule and also the location of William Anderson's holding cell. The seat of the former Federation government had been nearly halfway around the world, in Brussels, and Zoltar hoped that it was this area of the planet with which his Beloved would be most familiar.

But until they arrived and he saw how his Beloved reacted, he wouldn't know.

The ship landed and the rear hatch opened, sending two Rigan corpses tumbling to the ground below. Zoltar heard gasps of astonishment from outside and nodded to Shadow. His Beloved put on their usual serious visage and strode forth, clearly unaffected by the carnage through which they had to pass. Shadow departed first, and then Zoltar exited the craft, flanked by Nox and Blade, the four of them marching down the small ramp to the ground below, where Gantor stood waiting to greet them.

Gantor's normally sly face was unusually anxious, and his eyes were fearful as he beheld his Leader.

"Lord Zoltar," he said, bending low in a sweeping bow, "I hope your journey was…" his eyes wandered over to the bodies at the foot of the ramp, "pleasant."

"Hardly." Zoltar fixed his underling with an icy stare. "We were attacked by Rigan rebels, two of whom were masquerading as my pilots. Fortunately, my Beloved are well-trained to handle the unexpected."

"I see." Gantor replied. "Then, would you care to be escorted to your accommodations?"

"No." Zoltar snapped. "I have other business to attend to. We will seek our accommodations later, when we retire."

"Sire…" Gantor swallowed nervously and his voice lowered. "I must speak with you… in private. It is an urgent matter, that must be attended to immediately."

Zoltar wanted to scream with rage. He needed to see Anderson now! He could not afford to delay! But if Gantor thought the matter was urgent, it likely was. No matter how pressing Zoltar's personal concerns, the welfare of the Empire had to come first.

"What is it?" he hissed through his teeth, his displeasure clearly evident.

"A matter best not discussed where there are ears to hear, Sire." Gantor whispered imperceptibly, his eyes darting about to indicate the civilians and military personnel stationed around the landing site.

Zoltar allowed himself the small pleasure of letting the man squirm in uncertainty for a moment, yet he knew that he would have to agree. Clearly this was an issue of the utmost urgency.

If it were not, he would have Gantor's heart on a platter.

"Fine." Zoltar smiled brightly, speaking loudly for the benefit of the surrounding crowds. "Take us to our accommodations, Gantor. It has been a long journey. I will deal with the people of Earth on the morrow."

"Very good, Sire." Gantor nodded, his relief quickly replaced by a demeanor of quiet, yet vicious, efficiency. Zoltar and his Beloved were whisked into a waiting armored limousine, and within moments they were stepping out onto the steps of the famed Castle Hyatt-Fairmont, Earth's most luxurious and prestigious hotel. The Spectran Leader and his bodyguards were rapidly escorted up to the penthouse: a lavish three-bedroom suite with a sweeping one hundred and eighty degree view of Center City.

Outwardly, his Beloved appeared strong and vigilant, but knowing them intimately, Zoltar could see the minute signs of stress and exhaustion that plagued his loved ones. Still, they did not shirk their duties, nor ask for respite, but simply stationed themselves around the sumptuous living room that was the center of their suite.

Zoltar did not sit down, but instead rounded on Gantor the moment the door closed behind them.

"Is this 'secure' enough for you?" he snarled, his arms spreading wide. "I have urgent matters of my own. This had better be as important as you say!"

"It is, Sire!" Gantor bowed low, his body trembling nervously. "I would never have insisted otherwise. You know my loyalties are entirely to you, and the Luminous One!"

"What is it, then?" the Spectran Leader demanded.

"It's President Xander." Gantor explained rapidly. "Just this morning, I discovered evidence that contrary to her insistence that she is cooperating fully with the Spectran Empire, she is in fact behind the recent drops in resource production. It seems that she has been funneling supplies and resources to the rebels; goods that rightfully belong to the Empire."

"You are certain?" Zoltar asked, his eyes gleaming. If this was true, and the President was indeed the source of his troubles, making an example of her would bring a quick end to his problems, leaving him free to concentrate on getting necessary information from Anderson.

"Yes." Gantor nodded. "However, the evidence I have obtained, while valid, is unlikely to be believed by the Earthers. We need Xander to make a public admission of guilt, to strike fear into the hearts of all who would oppose us. Then we can make an example of her." Now that he had delivered his message to the Spectran Leader, his confidence had returned, and his manner was crisp and businesslike.

"And why did this matter have to be dealt with immediately?" Zoltar asked, his eyebrow rising in amused suspicion.

"The moment I obtained my information, I 'invited' the President to a 'private meeting'." Gantor smiled thinly. "She has not been 'missed' as of yet, but if we linger much longer, the lengthy duration of our 'meeting' is certain to be remarked upon."

"I understand." Zoltar nodded. "I will attend to this matter myself, with your assistance, of course." The Spectran Leader's eyes swept over his bodyguards. This kind of coercion required those who were talented at administering pain in just the right degree. But if there were too many people involved in this, it might backfire. The President might feel backed into a corner and refuse to cooperate, assuming that her fate was already sealed.

"Blade." Zoltar snapped his fingers, and the Blackbird immediately stepped over to join his Master. "You will accompany us."

"Yes, Master." Blade nodded. Zoltar knew he had made the right choice. Shadow and Nox were too wrapped up in each other to be separated at this moment, and they both appeared to be even more exhausted than Blade. Nox's fingers were trembling slightly, and Zoltar knew that she would not last much longer.

"Rest." he ordered the pair, more sharply than he would have liked, but he was aware of the Governor witnessing the exchange. "Do not leave this room."

"Yes, Master." Shadow acknowledged, his face expressionless.

Zoltar departed, Blade and Gantor following behind. Once he had secured the President's cooperation, he would be able to find answers to the problems that plagued his Beloved.

88888

Blade sat in the rear of the vehicle, which was being operated by Governor Gantor's driver. The moment he had seen the control wheel at the front of the car, Blade had wanted to touch it… to feel it beneath his palms; feel its smoothness and the vibration of the engine through its round shape. He had nearly asked for permission to do so, until he had remembered himself.

Still, even now, sitting in the vehicle with the driver in plain sight was torture, and so he closed his eyes, doing his best to think about other things. Outwardly, his expression was rigid and stern, but inside, his head whirled with images of the past few hours.

Foremost of all in his mind was the image of this planet, as it had appeared from space. Blade knew that he had never been here before, and yet… it had seemed familiar to him, in an intimate way. Its blue-green color had been cool and welcoming, and he had almost felt as if he had been coming home. Now, on the surface of the planet, the feeling had diminished somewhat, but only because he sensed that something wasn't right. The windows in their accommodations should not have looked out upon the city. They should have been looking out at… he wasn't certain. He concentrated very hard, his mind wrestling with the vague image as it should be… Fish! There should have been fish outside the window! But that was ridiculous. Fish only lived underwater, and there were no underwater buildings. Clearly he was hallucinating in some fashion.

Blade briefly wondered if he should tell the Master that his mind was playing tricks on him. He might not be performing to the full extent of his abilities, and Zoltar needed to know that.

Zoltar… Blade had never called the Master by his true name before today, and yet he had addressed him in that manner only a couple of hours ago. The Master had been in danger of being seriously hurt, and Blade had told him to fasten his seatbelt, and had used his name, rather than his appellation. The Master had never explicitly forbidden his Beloved to call him by his first name, and yet, none of them ever did. Why Blade had chosen to break that unwritten rule today was unknown.

And it wasn't just the Master. Blade, Shadow and Nox had used alternate names for each other… Jason, Mark, and Princess. And he and Nox had addressed Shadow as 'Commander'.

Placing the names side by side, he wasn't certain which one was right. He was Blade. He had always been Blade. But perhaps that wasn't true. Before, he might have had a different name.

Could that name have been 'Jason'?

It sounded right to him, the more he thought about it. In a way, it seemed more comfortable and familiar than the name he had used for the past five years. When he thought about Shadow and Nox, and placed those other names with them, they seemed right as well.

So who were they? Were they Shadow, Blade and Nox, or were they Mark, Jason and Princess?

At this moment, he didn't know.

The car stopped, and he was jolted back to reality. The Master called to him, and he exited the vehicle, following as he was told. They entered a stately building that was apparently the Governor's place of residence, the front entrance lined with Spectran guards in their green uniforms. Gantor took them all inside and into his office, where he shut the door.

"Your man… can he be trusted?" Gantor asked Zoltar, his eyes darting toward Blade, who seemed wrapped in shadows.

"Of course." Zoltar snapped. "I wouldn't have brought him otherwise."

"Fine." Gantor nodded, reaching underneath his desk. Then he turned, moving toward a shelving unit on the wall, which was filled with antiquated paper documentation.

"It's amazing how the Earthers cling to these books of theirs." Gantor commented. "No matter how technologically advanced they become, they still desire the presence of their words on paper."

"Clearly a weakness of intellect." Zoltar sighed impatiently. "Can we get on with it?"

"The elevator takes a few moments." Gantor explained. "For security purposes, when it is not in use, it is held at a repair station off the main shaft. Additionally, it operates quite slowly, to minimize noise. I can't risk having anyone discover its existence."

The elevator finally arrived, and Blade was only mildly surprised to see one of the shelving units split in half to allow access. He followed his Master inside, then placed himself directly in front of the doors, so that if there were any threat upon exiting, he would be the one to face the danger.

The metal doors dully reflected his face back to him, and in this cloudy appearance he thought he saw something surrounding his head: something dark, hard and round. A helmet? He had no idea why such a thing would be on his head. Imagine how it must impede his hearing and vision! Yet suddenly, he could picture himself in this mysterious helmet, and his wings were blue instead of black, and he was fighting…

He was fighting men in green uniforms.

The lurch in his stomach did not come from the movement of the elevator. If he had fought Spectran soldiers, then they must have been spies: enemy agents like the men who had masqueraded as pilots of the transport vessel. They must have been.

But suddenly he wasn't so sure.

When they reached the bottom of the shaft, the elevator doors opened, revealing a sterile metal corridor. Blade checked in all directions and found their path to be clear. He stepped out and aside, allowing his Master and the Governor to pass.

There were four identical doors along the corridor, each with a handprint access control mechanism. The Governor stopped at the third door, then used his palm to open the portal.

The room beyond was small and bare. It looked like the inside of a metal cube: its floor, ceiling and walls all made of the same smooth dull-grey material. In the center of the room was the only piece of furniture: a chair.

A woman was tied to the chair.

The woman looked to be in her late fifties, her brown hair streaked with silvery-grey. It had been pulled back from her face, but now messy tendrils hung down, the perfect complement to the smudges of dirt on her pale skin and rumpled clothes. She was both blindfolded and gagged.

"Her ears were plugged and her eyes blindfolded to prevent her from knowing where she was, or how to access this place." Gantor explained. "But I will remove the plugs if you so desire, Lord Zoltar."

The Spectran Leader waved his hand dismissively, and the Governor leaned over, reaching into the woman's ears and pulling out two devices too tiny to be seen. Zoltar looked at Blade and jerked his head, indicating that Blade should stand behind him.

"So pleasant to see you, President Xander."

"What?" The woman swung her head around, trying to locate the source of the voice. "Zoltar, is that you?"

"My, haven't you become careless?" Zoltar taunted her, delivering a stinging slap across her cheek. "You should at least remember how to properly address the Leader of the Empire."

"L… Lord Zoltar…" the woman said haltingly. "I don't understand… what is going on? Did I displease you?"

"President Xander, I'm a busy man." Zoltar hissed, leaning down so that his mouth was next to her ear. "I resent being taken away from my own affairs to attend to yours."

"S…Sire… I never requested your presence here…"

"Of course you didn't." Zoltar smirked. "You wanted to keep me away as long as possible, so that you could aid those rebels of yours."

Blade did not miss the way the President's fingers twitched nervously, all but admitting her guilt. Neither did the movement go unnoticed by Gantor or Zoltar.

"You do recall what happened to your predecessor, don't you?" Zoltar asked her. "That old fool was too staunch an opponent of the Spectran Empire to be allowed to remain in his position. Tragically, he met with a fatal accident enroute to Spectra, where he was to be tried for his crimes." Zoltar sighed dramatically.

"Hiram Kane was a good man." the President cried. Her face paled even more as she realized what she had just admitted.

"You humans are weak, and not to be trusted!" Zoltar raged, reaching out in his anger and ripping off the woman's blindfold. "We generously let you govern yourselves, and this is how you repay us? By supporting those who would oppose our legitimate rule?"

"Of course there are factions here on Earth who oppose Spectran rule!" Xander replied, her eyes darting about nervously. "Spectra takes all of our resources, and we barely have enough to feed ourselves! In many countries, people are dying for lack of food and medical care, and we are not allowed to make use of the crops we grow or the medicines we produce! Those who cannot survive under Spectran rule have to find another way! If you would only increase the rations given to each Federation citizen…"

"The Federation no longer exists!" Zoltar reminded her furiously. "That abomination was stamped out by the forces of Spectra! And now, you and your rebels seek to take what is rightfully ours!"

"No, no…" the President shook her head. She was attempting to remain calm, but Blade could see the fear gathering in her eyes.

"Your food, your medicines, they belong to Spectra! We do not give them to the weak! Your resources belong to Spectra! They are not to be wasted on your puny planet! Everything that belonged to the Federation now belongs to Spectra!" Zoltar declared, stepping aside. His movement gave the President a full view of Blade's face.

"Is that…?" she whispered, her voice trembling in terror. Despite himself, Blade found that her expression struck a chord within him. He had never met this woman before, and yet she knew him. How was that possible?

"He is my personal bodyguard." Zoltar smirked. "He has saved my life more times than I can count. He obeys my every command. I am his Master."

"I heard stories…" The woman's eyes widened in disbelief. "No, it can't be true! Not him!"

"Break her arm." Zoltar snapped at Blade.

Without thinking twice, Blade stepped forward, his hand shooting out, cutting down across the woman's bicep. There was an audible crack. She howled in pain, her restraints rendering her unable to cradle her injured limb.

"That was simply a demonstration, to prove to you that what I say is true." Zoltar smiled viciously. "Those who defy me have reason to fear my wrath, and the wrath of the Great Spirit."

"I understand…" the woman whispered weakly, her head lolling.

"Then you understand that if I order him to find your family… your grandchildren… and exact punishment on them for your crimes, he will obey." Zoltar said quietly. "Of course, I do not have to give such an order."

The woman's face grew hard for a moment, then drained of its feeble show of defiance. Her eyes rose, meeting Blade's, clearly pleading with him to help her.

He could not help her. He had to do what the Master ordered. And yet… he felt pity for this woman.

Pity. It was a strange emotion, and one he couldn't recall ever feeling before. Why was she pleading with him? Hadn't he just broken her arm? Didn't she understand that he had to do what the Master ordered?

"Tell me the name of your contact with the rebels." Zoltar demanded.

"I don't know."

Zoltar gestured to Blade, and he stepped forward again, twisting the woman's broken arm.

"Aaaah…!" she cried, overcome with the pain, and yet her gaze held Blade's, begging him… for what?

"I'm not going to accept that answer." Zoltar insisted. "You're the President of this pitiful planet. Surely you know something…"

The interrogation continued, and Blade continued to torment the woman, increasing her pain each time she delivered an answer that Zoltar found unacceptable. This was nothing new to Blade. He had assisted in interrogations of rebels before, as had Shadow and Nox.

Yet this time was different. No matter how much pain he caused her, the woman did not look upon him with hatred, or revulsion, or fear, but with some kind of desperate hope.

And a part of Blade wanted to answer that hope. No, not a part of Blade… a part of Jason. Jason wanted to help this woman: to protect her. But why? Why would Jason want to disobey the Master?

Another thought suddenly occurred to him. This woman was pleading with him… pleading with Jason… to help her. She knew Jason.

Had she known him Before?

He couldn't do this. He couldn't fight two sides of himself, who both wanted to please, but whose motives were in conflict.

"Blade!" Zoltar said sharply.

He looked up at his Master, his internal struggle telling him one thing, and then another. He tried to respond, but found that he could not.

"Blade…" The voice had softened now, and the Master's expression was anxious.

"That's enough for today." Zoltar told Gantor sharply. "She's not in any condition to return to her 'duties'. Bring in her entire family and hold them here. Let it be known that President Xander has gone on a 'vacation."

"I understand, Sire." Gantor nodded.

"Come, Blade." the Master ordered, leaving the room.

And Blade followed.

But it was Jason who could not forget the President's silent plea.

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