| And while the vixen is smiling and getting ready to rise to meet
a new day with her new husband . . . . . .
In a dim, vast complex, in an unrevealed location, a structure that
used to look like a crystalline version of some modern art exhibit, but
now is just a smoking pile of smoky glass, flickers feebly flickers one
last time. A fat spark of blue light sparks from the ruined item and swirls
to form a torus of multi-hued light. A small, half frozen form is spit
forth. The light fades, and the little dog's form shifts and grows into
the form of a middle aged, darkly handsome bearded man. The man groans,
and rises painfully to his feet. His bones creak in protest.
The long time between realities has worked wonders on the dragon's fractured
mind. A measure of relative sanity had returned to his eyes. Oh, not that
the wyrm felt remorse for what it had done. No amount of time in the freezing
void in between universes could nor would bring remorse to this monsters'
black heart, but the solitude had brought a measure of peace to the raging
monster's heart.
In the final analysis, he HAD avenged himself on the ones that had .
. . . in his mind . . . . had REALLY been responsible for this disaster.
While spinning in the void for the seconds or centuries between that "landing
site" and his laboratory the dragon had time to reflect on what had happened.
It was so DAMN obvious now!! He had been played for a fool.
It had started a mere half year ago . . . . .he had been casting about
in the misty realms of the Otherspace . . . . . probing for the answers
to a vexing problem.
Minestus glances back at the pile of flesh that had been his latest
test subject. The experiment had stripped away the flesh of the subject,
producing screams and cries of pain, and cries for mercy. The test results
had been . . . pathetic. His lab subject from one of the enclaves had lasted
TEN times longer under analysis! The dragon's mind was made up, his creations
were by FAR superior to these . . . . pathetic beings who called themselves
human beings! Oh, he was the first to admit in his circle of dragon comrades
that the human race had potential. The race had gone MUCH further than
any of dragonkind had expected when the hairless apes had first treaded
the world . . . . so long ago. However, there was always room for improvement.
The improvements . . . . gifts that he had given his subjects on the enclaves
would prove to be useful . . . . As soon as he perfected that vexing "Forsaken"
factor. He knew that the answer was just around the corner!
What bothered him was that . . . . . even the most deadly disease
the dragon could find, even modified by his gifted hand, would be easily
countered by a human mage. He needed something otherworldy . . . . that
would confound any would be human savior. Something deadly . . . . alien
. . . . .there!
The grand royal researcher pats his creation sadly. It had shown
so much damn POTENTIAL! Then he finds that spy intelligence proves that
the Alliance already has countermeasures for his bioweapon. If it had worked
. . . . . the Alliance would be at unable to mine worlds while the Empire
could! It would be a great way to deny the humans resources, while NOT
denying the resources to the Empire!
A wave of dizziness proves to be the only warning that the researchers
has as he, the container, and a large chunk of his lab gets yanked to another
place.
The researcher looks up, and he locks his knees to keep from collapsing
as he looks up into the gleeful form of Minestus.......
The researcher blinks at what the dragon proposes . . . . and then
blinks again at how this . . . . lesser lifeform can be used when it is
revealed by the dragon that . . . . Tiberium is as common here as dirt!
Initially, the dragon was happy with his new found friend. His knowledge
of the makings of life was impressive. But a sixth sense that had served
the dragon for so long was . . . tingling. Contingency features were put
in the Race's ingenious "gift" to this world as he modified it. It might
lessen the punch the gift had, but it would prove to be useful as a revenge.
Minestus' laugh carries no humor. Revenge he had, but . . . . it was like ash to his tongue. The final blow the Enemy had thrown had nearly caught him flatfooted. The means he had used to escape had been desperate, and costly. The Crystallianic, the device that he had used for centuries on end to transport others . . . . and do so much else like keeping track of his test subjects and snapping off spells at a drop of the hat. . . . was ruined. The ancient device had NEVER been intended to transport it's owner. . . . . Not only that, but his sudden . . . exit from this plane of existence
had severed YEARS of conditions he had put on his test subjects . . . .
. The results probably looked much like . . . . .
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