Suddenly the door burst open and a tall slender woman dressed in a black leather cat-suit and high stiletto heels entered. Raking her long black hair away from her face with slender fingers she looked around the room at the others with haunting deep blue eyes almond shaped eyes.

“Oh, good lord!” Her disdain for the gathered group was evident as she glared at everyone in turn. Looking at the clock on the wall that showed eleven in the morning, she shrugged her shoulders. “Only an hour late. Whom ever picked this ungodly early time should be punished.”

Walking around the room she inspected each person in turn as she purposefully removed a long glove from each hand. “I really don’t have time for this but the judge said I had to show up or face the consequences. I assume you have all said your little ‘hello my name is...’ I don’t want to sit through all that. Don’t get up and repeat yourselves, I don’t care. I’ll make this brief and be on my way.”

Finishing the examination Dr. Ryon patted the young woman's shoulder reassuringly as she shuffled past carrying the tissue and blood samples the she had taken."You can get dressed now, dear."

Moving at a haltingly slow pace Dr. Ryon entered the small lab off her exam room. The smell of disinfectant and solvents made the room feel close and stuffy, even though it was well ventilated. Placing the samples in a tray, she stopped to steady her hands for a moment resting them on the cold black stone counter top. She had run these tests thousands of times in her life, but this case was special, she could feel it in her bones.

Dr. Tayan Ryon had been a doctor of genetics for sixty-nine years. Before retiring to this small village to become the only trained obstetrician within one hundred kilometers, she had been a professor and respected researcher in the field of clone genetics at Pator Technological Institute for the last forty. One of the few Minmatar in the field and the only one from the Brutor tribe in the early days of the Republic.

One of her main area's of research had been to find a way to reverse some of the genetic flaws the Amarrian geneticist had caused in her race, while they were enslaved, especially the damage they had done to the Brutor tribe in particular. That had always been her true passion. She only became a clone specialist because no one else applied for the job when the technology was first given to the Republic by the Gallente Federation.

Silver gems drift from sky of night,

Illumination by lone lantern's glow

Shimmering with quiet points of bright

Gather in mounds of snowy down

Solo steps enter circle of light

“Shields are down, Captain.” Willa’s tactical officer reports over the scream of warning alarms.

Looking around the bridge Willa’s gaze is met by worried looks on the faces of her crew. Duckeye's angry voice roars once again over the open comm channel, mixing with the din of alarms signaling failing systems across the ship. “Who is it? Who is he? I want him dead! Who is it? I will kill him! I’ll fuck you on top of his still warm corpse! He’s a DEAD MAN!”

Looking back at her private channel screen, Willa watches Ducky ripping a man’s shirt, not his own, to shreds as he screamed more obscene threats at her. Steel jawed she looked up to watch the main view screen as the camera drones beam back the image of Ducky's typhoon unleashing a flight of drones toward her new battleship. She knows what is coming before tactical even reports. He is going to tie her up and shut down her defenses. She had seen him do it hundreds of times before to war targets, now she was his target. Knowing there is no way for her to beat him, she decides to call his bluff.

“NEVER!” Willa answers then disconnects the transmission.