The S.S. Olympus -under refurbishment

XXIV: Vindicta -new

Hera watched her last moments of happiness from the golden haze of a daydream. A gilded marble mansion stood tall in the sun-drenched gardens of Olympia. Bare feet skipped along the cold stone path as her mother, Gaia, despite her wealth, tended to the flora herself.

A white dress of purity whispered around her ankles. Young Hera's heart soared with the song of the birds hidden amongst the foliage. She whistled back to them, keeping in time with their melody. A willow tree, moved by the wind, waved to her with long green branches as she approached. Manicured hands parted its limbs as she moved to curl up against the rough and sturdy trunk, and soak in the late summer heat. The delicate petals of a tropicana rose tickled her nose as she took in its luscious scent. 

"No!" Hera's sleeping body cried out into the darkness, "no, please."

That was the end of her happiness because she would never get to settle in for her traditional afternoon siesta. Her family would shun what she would become, and Hera would never be able to don the white robes of purity again. Hera knew what would happen next, and she was powerless to stop it, having to watch the dream through a voyeur's eyes. 

"It's not what you think, run!" Her sleep mumbled cries heard by only her. The younger hopeful Hera continued unaware of the danger. 

The low warble of a cuckoo prodded her heavy eyes open, and an injured bird hobbled into the peaceful world within the willow tree. Hera reached out a gentle hand and beckoned for the poor bird to come closer. He gave her a startled cry and fell on its 'injured.' From the waking side of the nightmare, Hera called to her younger self but could do nothing to stop the past. Nothing could save her from the end of her blissful world.

The cuckoo came closer, pitting cries called to her warm heart and young soul. Nothing was more magical than a wild animal seeking the aid of a young maiden, nothing in existence could stop her from wanting to help.

If only I had known.

The bird came closer, it's slow hobbled steps broke young Heras heart, but she dare not move, dare not scare the beautiful young bird away. It stepped into her hand, and she held it to her breast, whispering words of wonder and soothing the creature. A creature that did not need any such attention.

The golden haze vanished and made way for the dark rancid nightmare that came next. It was not a cuckoo she held to her breast, but her brother Zeus. His vicious grin flooded all her senses as he slammed her into the ground, and sullied her white robes forever.

A gasp escaped Hera's lips as she burst up from her bed. Pristine white sheets mocked her as she wrapped them around her as the only comfort she had in this lonely world. Zeus, once again, did not lay beside her. His part of the bed long since cold, her world long empty.

"you took everything from me," A golden band on her finger reminded her of the shame that forced her to marry him. Hera recited his words to the vast emptiness of the room, "No Olympian man would marry a woman taken by another. Especially if that other was her brother." It did not matter how far advanced her world had been; their marriage beliefs remained in the past. It did not matter that the willow tree had shielded her from view. Her screams as he ravished her, drew enough attention that it was no secret, and never would be.

Tears stained her cheeks. A massive rock ground into the pit of her stomach, and she sucked down a goblet of wine to numb her pain. It was all in vain. Her memory would never change.

One foot then another touched the cold metal floor, and her body followed sliding out of the unassuming standard-issue bed—a far cry from the luxury and comfort that she once called home.

The door swisher open at her behest, and she wandered into an empty hallway. Voices called to her, one familiar, her husband, and one not. Grimacing Hera followed the sound of the only man that would touch her. All others feared him or were disgusted by her.

Hera watched her husband from the entrance of the S.S. Olympus; she gritted her teeth, not enjoying the expression on his face as he spoke to the handsome stranger. She had seen it before; it was the mark of something devious and devoid of feeling. "Why do I love you?" She whispered to herself as she disappeared back into the ship. "That is the worst part of all of this. I still love you."

She knew that he had continued his dalliances even with the pathetic human race, "Why? trick me into marriage if you are just going to rub my face in your infidelity."

She moved to the only part of the shop that gave her comfort, the creatures of the world she had collected in her private menagerie, an elegant peacock called to her from a metallic rafter; its' regal plumage fell in a bright curtain of blue and green.

As the door closed behind her, a fawn limped over to her. "Hello old friend," Hera wrapped her arms around it and wept. In her other hand was a view screen. She watched Zeus follow the stranger to a wagon covered in dark silks and gilded fabric. She listened as delicate female voices cried out in manufactured glee as the two men entered. Nausea ran through her like fire, as Zeus caressed the bare breast of a buxom brunette.

"Foul creature! Cursed whore!" Hera hurled the tablet across the room.

"Petaqing bastard," she slammed her foot down, shattering the screen further, she enjoyed watching it crunch under her foot. "I will make him pay for everything."

A smile crept across her face, "I will make him pay with his children."

"Starting with Hercules. He remains here as a constant reminder of Zeus' infidelity. His every movement and exists to remind me of my shame."

Rage pure and unending took over every facet of her being. Hera's foot slammed down again, as she pictured the android's face instead of the broken tablet. Hercules shared his father's face. Destroying it was good enough. "A face crafted by Dr. Alcrmrena, robotics engineer, in Zeus' honor." Hera's chest puffed out in a horrid mockery of pride and vindication.

The crashing of mirrors and vases punctuated Hera's mocking tone as she kicked and threw them across the room, " for the honor of him sharing her bed." Her nails dragged through her hair, and she pulled some out with a maniacal scream.

The peacock trumpeted her call, feeling her wrath but not fearing it. Her song called out with the sound of the peacock. Its voice and hers echoed through the hall. The other creatures joined the chorus of her war cry.

"My children," she raised an arm out for the peacock it flew down with elegance and grace, "have nothing to fear from me. Hebe," she called out to the ship, the ship she and Zeus had built together, "begin construction on project taipan."

She scratched its chin, and it leaned into her touch,  "but the other children of his do, no matter their make." She smiled at the shattered view screen, the sound of the hired women giggling rang in her ears, "they all do."