The Knights spent the next two days frantically trying to learn the cause of Blye’s blindness. Every test they ran her through came back negative, while a diagnostic of the implant itself showed it was functioning properly. They attempted to contact the Aggaaddub to learn if they knew anything, only to have their calls go unanswered. By the third day, she could get up from her sickbed and move around, with someone acting as her guide. Thankfully, her child had survived the ordeal unscathed, but that was the only bright spot to be found in the midst of this crisis. Throughout it all, once she was past the initial shock, Blye bore her impairment with stoic dignity, though her friends all knew just how deeply the wound had cut.

On the fourth day, the Kaihautu returned.

Blye was on her feet the instant she heard the shuttle landing, steadying herself against a nearby column before taking up her staff. Cautiously, she made her way through the clinic towards the main entrance, relying on her memory of its layout and using her quarterstaff to probe the ground before her. She was halfway to her goal when she heard Velsa approach.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she chided her, taking her arm as she tried guiding her back to her cot.

“The Kaihautu is here for me,” she answered, waving the nurse off, “and nothing other than possibly my death will dissuade him from his mission… and frankly, I wouldn’t even bet on that. So best I face him head-on, on my own two feet.” She pulled away, thumping her staff onto the floor as she resumed her trek.

The sound of approaching footsteps gave her pause, as she recognized Prash and Amar by their gait. Unlike Velsa, they wouldn’t be so easily put off. With a sigh, she came to a halt once more, holding out her hand.

“I’m not having this discussion again,” she told them. “You can’t stop him. You know that. He’s taking me to see Aleph, and nothing short of an Alliance fleet suddenly appearing in orbit will prevent him from doing exactly what he wants. So what do you say we just skip to the end and get on with it?” Blye leaned on her staff, awaiting their reply.

There was a pause before Prash finally responded. “I hate this,” he swore, “I hate everything about it.”

Blye gave him a wistful smile and shrugged. “Mother Terra, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference,” she quoted, reciting the ancient prayer. “This falls under the first category, unfortunately.”

“At least let us come with you,” Amar implored her. “You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

“That’s not up to me, I’m afraid,” she told them, “but I would welcome your company.” She put a hand out and found the former Valkyrie’s arm, letting him guide her before stopping just inside the entry, awaiting their arrival, taking strength from their presence.

They didn’t have to wait long. Kaihautu Yugha and his entourage arrived with heavy footfalls and the sound of rain and thunder, the door crashing open as they arrived like an invasion force.

Which, of course, they were.

“Chevalier Tagata, how delightful it is to see you again,” the alien commander chuckled, thoroughly enjoying his twisted little game. Amar growled angrily in his throat, earning him a squeeze on his forearm as Blye cautioned him to back down.

“I wish I could say likewise,” she replied, far more bluntly than usual, “but I can’t… as I suspect you already know.”

“Oh? Complications from the surgery?” he said with feigned surprise. “I hope it's nothing too serious?” He sounded like an escapee from a bad comic opera. The Troika’s sense of humor definitely left something to be desired.

Letting her staff rest against her, Blye put out her other hand, grabbing Prash as she heard him tense, warning him off as well. The creaking of his jacket around his shoulders was unmistakable.

“Let us not play games, Kaihautu,” she said evenly. “You are responsible for my blindness. Perhaps you did it to punish me, or as a means of control, but whatever the reason, you and I both know this is your doing. So perhaps we could dispense with the false pretenses and get down to business?” She looked at him expectantly… or at least, where she thought he was… awaiting his response.

“As you wish,” he told her, the phony levity disappearing from his voice. “You are correct. I disabled your vision to keep you from acting against my wishes. With this,” he said, apparently holding up some device, based on the sound of his movement, “I can restore your sight at any time. And I will gladly do so… once my mission is complete.”

Liar, her mind whispered, you have no intention of giving me back my sight… just as I suspect you plan on leaving no witnesses behind either. She couldn’t say it out loud, of course, but that made it no less true. The fact he’d taken this step proved it.

“I assume you have returned intending for me to access the Precursor computer,” she deduced. “What am I supposed to be asking it now?”

“We will discuss that once we arrive,” he informed her, as one of his guards grabbed her bicep, shoving her towards the door. Without thinking, she pivoted on her metatarsal and drove the butt of her staff into the torso of the Aggaaddub warrior, feeling a sense of grim satisfaction as she felt it connect. The grunt of expelled air was a pleasant confirmation she’d hit where she’d aimed. Holding her staff at the ready, she faced the Kaihautu once more.

“I have made it clear from the beginning I will obey your commands,” she said in a rush, “but I will not be manhandled. One of my fellow Knights will act as my guide.” That said, and not wishing to provoke him further, she returned the staff’s butt end to the floor and awaited his response.

In retrospect, she really should have seen it coming… no pun intended.

A scaled fist came out of nowhere and slammed into her face, driving her to the floor and sending her staff clattering from her hand. Spikes of pure pain exploded in her head, her body spasming in agony even as she felt firm hands protecting her and keeping her safe.

“Are you insane?” Prash snarled, cradling her head as he checked for injuries. “She just had brain surgery!”

For her own part, Blye wasn’t processing well. There seemed to be a disconnect between mind and body, her limbs flailing as she fought to bring them back under control. Even her thoughts were jumbled, a discordant choir shrieking inside her head as she moaned in torment, when she felt her body being hauled roughly upright, as the others loudly protested the Aggaaddub’s actions.

“You do not give orders to me, Terran,” the Kaihautu hissed menacingly. “You will do what I say, when I say, or I will ensure those you care about suffer tortures even you cannot imagine.” His spleen now vented, he tossed her contemptuously aside, the others scrambling to catch her before her body hit the ground. Once more, she felt their efforts to shield her from further injury, as she slowly clawed her way back from the pain-filled abyss.

“Furthermore,” he continued, in slightly calmer tones, “I forbid any other Terrans’ access to the site. They shall remain here.”

Blye panted slowly, trying to catch her breath. She sensed more than felt being carefully examined for fresh injuries before the others hastily applied a surgical dressing to her skull.

“Can you stand?” Amar asked, as they helped ease her back to her feet.

Holding onto the others for support, Blye had a rough few moments on wobbly legs until she could find her balance once more. She nodded, releasing her grip, and asked, “Did I re-injure myself?”

“Just some leakage from the surgical site,” Prash assured her. “There doesn't appear to be any new trauma, thank Terra.”

“Thank Terra indeed,” she nodded in relief. She felt her staff pressed back into her hand as she faced the Aggaaddub commander. “You’ve made your point, Kaihautu Yugha,” she said guardedly. “Hopefully, I have also made mine. I will obey your wishes… but I will only be pushed so far.” Turning her head, she summoned their Ksot nurse. “Velsa, if you would lend me your arm, please.”

She heard the Troika officer seethe with barely controlled fury, as well as Velsa’s cautious steps as she approached. She sounded nervous by the sound of her gait; like a fawn, ready to bolt at the first hint of danger. Sadly, Blye could offer her no promises in that regard. It was all too likely they were all heading deep into the lion’s den. Bowing to the inevitable, the covered her head with a shower cap followed by a poncho, before topping it all off with a wide-brimmed hat. The rains were showing no signs of letting up, and they were doing their best to protect her from the elements.

Finding their nurse’s arm, she readied herself for the brief journey. “Look after our people,” she told her fellow Knights.

“We will,” they said in unison.

Nodding once more, she faced the reptilian. “I am ready. Please, lead the way.”

Blye could almost feel the anger coming from him, boiling off in waves. The Kaihautu could strike her down repeatedly, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. He could take her very life, and she would be powerless to stop him. But doing so might well be seen as him losing control; not just of her, but also himself, as well as the situation at large.

She was no expert on the internal workings of the Troika, but it was clear they were all predators of the highest order. If there was any universal truth in the galaxy, it was that predators never showed weakness to another of their kind, for fear they might suddenly find themselves looked upon as prey.

As the saying goes, it’s a dog-eat-dog world.

There was a brief moment when Blye wondered if he would hit her again, hearing his tension expressed through his movements and grinding of teeth. But then the moment passed; apparently, he had worked through the same logic chain she had, and come to a similar conclusion. Lashing out now would tarnish him, so instead he would wait… and see what opportunities tomorrow might bring.

Descended from ambush predators, he could afford to be patient.

As the Kaihautu exited the clinic, Velsa fell in behind him, with Blye lightly holding onto her arm for guidance. The rain pelted them as they made their way to the vault, the thick mud pulling at their every step. It was miserable going, and without her staff and Velsa’s help, she would have soon been lost. Three times she stumbled over some unseen rock or divot in the earth, only regaining her footing because of the nurse’s nimble reflexes.

“Thank you,” she said once again, as she tripped for the fourth time, only to be brought to an abrupt halt by the party. “What is happening?” she asked her guide in confusion.

“It’s… I… I don’t know how to describe it,” she said in a nervous stage whisper.

Sliding her hand up the nurse’s arm, Blye gripped her shoulder in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. “I need you to be my eyes, Velsa. Now tell me… what do you see?”

“... people,” she said in a hoarse voice. “The camp has been watching us since we left the clinic, scattered in small groups, but now…” The nurse froze, struggling to find the words.

“Tell me,” Blye implored her, shielding herself from the driving rain. Around them, she could hear the Aggaaddub turning this way and that, looking for orders but anchored with sudden indecision.

Velsa swallowed and tried again. “They’re… they’re on their knees, and they’re praying, Blye,” she finally got out. “All around us, from every race and species.”

She nodded in understanding. “These are troubling times we live in,” Blye agreed. “I pray often myself, for strength.”

“No,” the nurse said vehemently, “you don’t understand. They’re praying to you.”

Her jaw dropped. “To me?” Blye squeaked. “I’m no deity… hell, I’m not even an angel. Just ask Prash and Amar,” she said, flabbergasted. This was insane!

The Aggaaddub were milling about now; on edge, and the fact the Kaihautu wasn’t reprimanding them for it? That scared her.

Something in Velsa’s voice changed as if she were seeing her for the first time. “To them, you are,” she insisted, her tone now hushed and reverent. “They’ve watched you intercede on their behalf, against… powerful forces,” she said nervously, “and they say you possess the healing touch.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m a doctor, Velsa,” she sighed. “It’s just my training. You’re a nurse, for Terra’s sake. You understand that, right?”

“It doesn't matter what I believe,” she tried to explain, “and there’s more. There have been whispers since the beginning, but most chose not to listen. But now…”

“Now what?” Blye demanded. “What’s changed?”

Instead of speaking, Velsa gently touched her face. “This,” she whispered.

Blye winced. “They know about… my affliction?” she said uncomfortably.

“Of course they do,” she said, surprised by her confusion. “Do you believe anything happens here they do not learn of?”

“I suppose not,” she said in defeat, “though I was hoping to keep this… private. I don’t understand why that should change anything. I’m still me.”

Everything Velsa was telling her made absolutely no sense. She was just a person, struggling to survive like everyone else. She wasn’t great. She wasn’t special. Mostly she was too busy scrambling from one crisis to the next to think about the bigger picture, but when she did, it left her feeling frightened and alone. She was the last person anyone should be venerating.

She could hear the Kaihautu speaking with the ship in orbit, his voice hushed and fervent. If he wasn’t planning on opening fire, then what…?

If Velsa’s previous statements had left her reeling, what she had to say next shattered her.

“... they say you have been touched by the Ancients,” she said in a rush, “and that you are being tested. They speak with hushed voices of your child, born without you ever knowing a male. And some say…”

Blye could hear in her voice the Ksot nurse was overwrought, swept up in a whirlpool of emotion she could no longer control. It was as if she had kept those forces at bay through sheer force of will, but now the dam had burst, and what was flooding through frightened her.

When she found her voice once more, it carried with it the power of pure belief, both magnificent and unnerving to behold. “And some say,” she continued, “that your child will one day… lead them to a better world.”

Her head reeled. “But… but…” she struggled to get out, “... that’s crazy! I’m no prophet! And my child isn’t some miracle because its father was a test tube!” She shook her head frantically. “I need to talk to them… make them understand…”

Velsa gripped her arm. “They won’t hear you,” she cautioned. “They’re scared, desperate people… and in their eyes, you are their guiding spirit. No words, not yours, or mine, will change that.”

Suddenly, what she was saying was all too clear.

No wonder Kaihautu Yugha was spooked.

The camp was rapidly becoming a powder keg… and all it needed was a match.