[b]Vasilia![/b]

Molech smiles when the glave hurtles towards his face; he smiles more when it stops.

"Azura technology," his voice left no doubt as to why he was called a sage. Such wisdom and careful contemplation in each tone! Such precision in enunciation! "But that is not how the Azura use it. I should know; I destroyed the Meridian Arch after dueling each of the Cobalt Ancients, and none of them took the stance you took there. Hmm... I sense individuality about you. Individuality and a determination like few others, for few in this ancient galaxy would even dream of creating something new."

Bloody feet sizzle to a halt on burning metal. The soles of his feet are as blackened as stone but and the steady drip of blood from his eternal wound surrounds him in wisps of cigarette-fine smoke.

"I was once known to this world as Imperator Molech, as the Warsage. No longer. I am defeated and ruined, cast down and left to ceaselessly tend my wretched machine lest I be crushed under its shattering gears. I no longer deserve my grandiose titles, so please refer me to the name of my origin: Liu Ban."

He spread his arms expansively, and in that moment commanded absolute attention. It was impossible for one to become an Emperor without knowing how to be grand. "And yet I am all the more sorry for you, unfortunate stranger! For if the hospitality this wretch can offer you is the finest you have received on your voyage you must have walked a hard road indeed! Well, come then! Come and sit! Let us lick the condensation from the steam-pipes for wine! Let us chew the lice that roam across my back for meat! For in you I believe I see the Thunderer in disguise, as mighty Zeus often walks in the world of men, and she shall know that for all the burdens she has given me to bear she has not yet made me a mean host!"

[b]Alexa![/b]

It was never asked of you to learn the expressions of machines. Of all your studies, contemplating the hidden or subtle expressions of a Cavel unit was never one of them. Are there emotions that swim under those painted eyes? Is there a heart, a soul, a pounding tension, a manic boldness? Are you dealing with a thinking being or are you talking to Dionysus' puppet as he whirls it about on strings?

If there was a question as to Dionysus' manipulation of the situation, there was none when it came to Aphrodite's. The God of Love saw no need to conceal his good humour as one ten after another was raised by the judges.

"It seems," said Cavel-4954, "we are to be married."

[b]The Chamber of Aspects[/b]

The Kaeri arrive in flits and starts, taking perches at random before the statues, hunching above like gargoyles. One after another they bow their heads and close their eyes. For all that they have followed their orders and achieved their aims, they now wait upon the Imperial Princess, and it would not do for them to show anything other than flawless respect.

In turn too comes the Kaeri [i]Giatros[/i] - feathers striped ochre yellow and blue-black beneath pristine white robes. They approach the Imperial Princess without waiting for the Praetor's leave, carrying their tools and ointments and incenses atop velvet cushions. They are closely watched for any sign of deviation. Doctors are dangerous for they might see Empresses as simple girls. The rituals of care are necessary to remind them of the semidivine nature of the one they tend to, and so they silently bow and offer their sacred surgical instruments to Princess Redana for inspection.

To Bella, they pay no heed. They are under no obligation to obey her orders any more, and so they disregard her command to bring the Princess' belt. The hunt is over, and the Kaeri have never forgotten that their prey will be Empress someday.