Solae was at a loss of how to properly console Rene on this recent revelation. All of nobility's offspring had been raised to suppress their emotions, to deal with the world pragmatically, and to react with shrewd cunning rather than feeling. It was no small wonder that nearly every aristocrat was secretly the patient of therapist and psychiatrist that helped them deal with the unhealthy amount of baggage that came from such a mindset. The marquise did not know how to soothe her fiance's invisible wounds. Both her education and upbringing would have her tell him that this was nothing to be upset by as his father marrying was only the execution of a business contract.

But her heart knew that this was so much more than the cold calculations the courts might make it out to be. Rene loved his father and undoubtedly sought his approval despite the passage of time and his ascension into adulthood. Even if he had managed to break free of that desire for affirmation, every child regardless of status wanted to be special to their parents. They wanted to be cherished, adored, a source of pride. Intellectually Rene knew his father would need to sever their connections due to the serious accusations levied against him and the subsequent enlistment into the marines. That did not make it any less painful to face the reality he had been discarded. Solae doubted Alric du Quentain had forgotten his son, but the speed with which he had moved on with his life was almost cruel in its efficiency.

"The Chastaians married into the Falias a few generations back," she explained slowly. "I believe my great, great grandmother was a Chastain? She had to abandon her family name to become a Falia, but it did create an alliance between the families that has persisted through to my father. He was of the opinion we have achieved so much because of both our connections and our contributions from the bloodlines that wed into ours." Solae had never formed an opinion one way or another. Both her mother and grandfather were Falias by marriage (since her paternal grandmother inherited the title and holdings as an only child) but neither had spoken of their past. Because she had always known them as members of the esteemed Falia she never dwelt on the notion they were not always devoted members of its lineage.

"I don't know the details, but my father has been... or rather he was 'bailing them out' so to speak. They made several poor investments and after the empress took the throne people have been very reluctant to honor the same agreements they had before." Noble families were almost universally wealthy but the exact assets each possessed was a private affair. There was pomp and circumstance to be certain, but the liquid currency they had at their disposal, the holdings they owned, the precious collections tucked away in their vaults was not public knowledge. There were allusions to it, there was boasting and grandstanding, but a duke could go bankrupt while maintaining a decadent appearance. Similarly, 'lowly' viscounts could hide their recent returns made them twice as rich as their social superiors.

"I can only assume they arranged for this union with Gisella in part to help their finances," Solae murmured more to herself than to Rene. "Father was talking about cutting them off when I was a teenager and was getting increasingly annoyed with them. Mother was paranoid they had discovered our yearly profits had increased significantly, and so they didn't need as much as they were asking, and instead were trying to take advantage." She shrugged with indifference. It hadn't been her decision to make and neither of the late Falias would have sought her opinion and advice on the matter. More than once she had been told explicitly she would get the 'whole story' of their net worth once she inherited. That her father was unwilling to put a figure on it with his own daughter made her suspicious Duke Tan was not actually the most affluent man on New Concordia.

"Mia, are you still processing data?" she called out.

"Yes, Lady Solae. I am capable of running additional analysis concurrently. Do you wish for me to analyze the Chastain family's history since Sir Rene's exile?" she asked breathlessly from a speaker overhead.

"Pull in records for a year preceding the murder just to be certain, Mia. I'll look over the information on hand as well but it is possible either of us or both of us will miss something significant," she decided as she changed the screen from an image of Lucrecia to clippings about one of the Chastain's mining companies on an otherwise barren planet at the edge of the sector. Rene had enough to digest without a visual reminder that a tiny baby had been borne from a woman young enough to be his sister or wife; instead she was now his stepmother. Solae resolved herself to breach etiquette if Rene became her legal husband and anyone tried to compel her to address Gisella with matronly honorifics. The marquise had not just survived a harrowing assault on the embassy, a brush with death escaping New Concordia, and landing a ship for the first time through the hurricane to call someone a few years older than her anything other than her first name.

"Do you want to go lay down, Rene?" she asked as she glanced over her shoulder. "I can't promise Mia will behave herself, but I solemnly swear I won't get into any trouble until we get closer to Zatis. And I won't try to land without waking you if only so I can make you suffer through my lack of experience with me," she declared with a good-natured smile and a wink.

Rene seized Solae’s hand and squeezed grateful for the comfort implicit in the offer. His mind raced with the potential implications of what they had just learned. Had someone in the Chastain family arranged his disgrace to forge a marriage alliance with his father. On the face of it, this seemed an insane risk as unless it were pulled off perfectly, the vengeance of the Empress would be swift and terrible. Young Mercedez Vilantre was, but having grown up watching people endure the mad whims of her father, she made rather a point of dealing out justice with a firm hand. If it came out that a noble family had conspired in the murder of a handmaiden, they might be stripped of titles, their property seized and the ring leaders imprisoned and executed.

A failing noble family would gain much from an alliance with the Du Quentains, whose holdings, Rene knew, were vast. Though neither Alric nor his father had been particularly focused on the acquisition of wealth, the Du Quentains enjoyed hundreds of lucrative imperial monopolies, held tax rights on several of the core worlds of the Empire and even had their own colonies on the Western Marches, many of which were already high profitable. That kind of old money, focused as it was in a single bloodline was beyond that even most nobles could imagine. Rene’s father and grandfather were taciturn men, with no interest in showing off their wealth and power as many of their peers did, but it wasn’t exactly a secret either.

“It makes sense that the Chastains would want a marriage connection,” Rene said slowly, realising only after he spoke that he had been silent for long minutes.

“But why would my father agree to it and why so soon after my arrest? He would have had to have..” Rene trailed off, the kernel of an idea growing in his mind, though not yet developed to a point he could articulate it. The Empress’s Justice. Rene had always assumed that his father had played a role in allowing him to escape custody long enough to enlist in the marines, banking on his status and connection with the Empress to shield him from harm, but what if that wasn’t what happened. What if his father had made a deal to save him, a deal that included taking another wife and producing an heir who would in turn, destroy Rene’s claim to his father's titles. Such an agreement would leave him disinherited but alive and it would account for the unseemly speed of the union. That didn’t necessarily mean that the Chastains had been behind it of course, but they were an unusual choice for such a match, politically there were better candidates, one of the Hesperii or even one of the cadet branches of the the Vilantre family, someone who would bind the wealth and power of the Du Quentains to the Imperial family and preventing them from becoming the focus of a rival power block.

It didn’t mean they were behind it, but someone had killed Amelia and framed Rene for it as so far the Chastains were the clear winners, they had been in position to make the match at the right time and they had had the political backing they needed to make it happen, that was even more suspicious if they were in the kind of financial trouble Solae indicated. They had to at least be involved. Something he couldn’t have known if he hadn’t met Solae, he realised. Their meeting and her knowledge were something the conspirators could never have counted on, it was a minor miracle he had ever even seen another noble much less one with the family connections to give him this intelligence. Ordinarily he would have been horrified to realize that this put her in more danger, or would if anyone involved found out about thier relationship, but given the events in the Eastern Cross at the moment, a threat from a cabal on Capella was a problem for another day.

“He did it for me,” Rene breathed, realizing that Solae had been patiently silent while his mind wheeled through rings of conspiracy. In hindsight the conclusion was an obvious one. He had been escaped the custody of the Imperial Guard in the most secure area of the most secure world in the Empire. What were the odds that he could have made his way to a recruiting station without people deliberately turning a blind eye. Rene shivered and sweated as his body roiled with unfamiliar combinations of thoughts and feelings. Grimly he tried to lock down his emotions and regain his ordinary equilibrium.

“He must have done it in exchange for letting me enlist, and so that I didn’t have an ‘accident’ during training. That is the only explanation I can see,” he murmured.

“They had to have at least known it was going to happen…” he told Solae. The veins in his temple throbbed with anger even though he kept his face in a calm disciplined mask.

“Sir Rene, you heart level is elevated,” Mia commented in the tone of a hopeful flirt. Renes head swam as he stood up unsteadily. Thick walls of glass appeared to be closing around his mind and his vision narrowed.

“We will know more once Mia has a chance to dig,” Rene said haltingly.

“Lady Solae, Sir Rene may be going into shock as a result of a combination of emotional trauma and the wounds he …” Blackness stole over Rene, cutting off the end of the sentence as he slumped into unconsciousness.

After Mia had talked her through some basic first aid, to make certain that Rene was stabilized and in no real medical danger, they had come to the conclusion it was impossible for Solae to physically drag the soldier to the captain's quarters. She simply did not have the strength to support his weight. With no other options she put a pillow under his head, covered with him with a blanket, and tried to make him as comfortable was feasible. There were stimulants that could have brought him back to consciousness by force but the marquise decided against utilizing them. It was better for Rene to rest. There was little doubt they would have further opportunities after landing on Zatis and beyond to put such pharmaceuticals to better use. Traveling through space was not an emergency that merited forcing him out of repose.

"All right, Mia, let's get back to work," she said after she was finally satisfied with Rene's arrangement. The noblewoman had pulled a cheap metal chair from one of the other rooms on the ship. It was the only one she could locate that was neither broken nor bolted to the floor, but it was wildly uncomfortable and the legs were slightly uneven. Their furniture could certainly stand to be upgraded.

"Would you like me to keep running the same analyses?" Mia purred as Solae scrolled through a listing of the compressed files she had downloaded at the communications center.

"Yes, I have some manual searches I want to do independently," she murmured as she selected a data set and pulled her pen and scrap paper closer to her. It was an archaic way of taking notes, especially by aristocratic standards, but she knew it would help her focus and create a better mental map of the information they had.

"Mia, I'd like all our analyses and conclusions to be accessible by only myself," Solae said as she started to scribble down some shorthand. Instead of delving into the Chastain's family history she was digging into her own. The last matriarch and patriarch of the Falia family had connections, secrets, and resources at their disposal, but they hadn't prepared her to assume all the responsibilities she had as a future leader quite yet. If Solae hoped to realize herself as heir without the luxury of someone on Capella that could hand her all the documentation in their wills, she'd have to search for what she needed herself.

"Only you, Lady Solae?" Mia asked with her seductive undertone suspiciously absent. This abnormal request seemed to have short-circuited her sultry vocal subroutine.

"Yes, only me, Mia." Solae sighed and leaned back in her chair, glancing back at Rene where he lay on the floor so peacefully. In truth this was a reprieve from the heavy tax reality had on psyche- even if passing out like he had was one of the worst ways to earn such a respite. "I don't expect you to fully understand, Mia, but I blame myself for Rene being in this state. I should have tempered myself and chosen a better time to deliver the news to him. Right now I don't think that... that it's right to ask him to shoulder the burden of this investigation, not until I'm sure it won't bring him harm like this. Our findings at least for now should be inaccessible to him."

"Lady Solae," the artificial intelligence began to protest, "Am I to deny access to the gathered data itself? What you downloaded was largely public information, correct?"

"Yes, it was. No, it would be wrong to try to prevent Rene from reading whatever articles and press releases he wishes. I know this is unusual Mia, but I don't intend to keep these things from Rene forever. There's no sense in having him upset, though, over preliminary findings. Once we have more concrete results, that I am relatively certain are factually accurate, then I'll broach the topic with him. Do you understand."

"Yes, Lady Solae," Mia said with a synthesized sigh of resignation. Solae couldn't help but smile. It was clear that the program's loyalty lay with her for whatever reason, and deferred to her over her fiance, but it was undeniable that Rene was only second to Rene and no other. If life ever favored her with a family she could imagine a highly modified Mia (to not sound so inappropriate) showing the same favoritism to her future children. Lord Armon might be dead but with his death he had given his ex-beau a truly precious gift.

Hours passed in silence save for the scratching of an antiquated pen on mismatched pieces of parchment. As Solae studied, alternating between the subjects of the du Quentains, Chastains, and Falias, she had tacked notes around the hold. All of it was in abbreviated shorthand, with half-formulated theories unintentionally made cryptic by her methodology, and almost all of them with enigmatic numbers that corresponded to each other, sums of money, trade contracts, or other such things- though none were labeled. It was utter nonsense to anyone except Solae and perhaps someone patient enough to spend time decoding.

More than once she had dozed off for a few moments and then woken. Sometimes it was the sensation of gravity pulling her down that made her bolt upright, sometimes it was the sheer discomfort of her unforgiving chair, sometimes it was the panic that seizes many people right before they drift off, but no singular serenade had been successful. She was on her third cup of coffee when she started to realize that the answers she desperately wanted to be hidden in these monotonous texts would not be found. It was not her lack of effort that stymied her; she had pieces of the puzzle, but not enough to complete it. This was the figurative outer rim but she would have to gather many more pieces. What was doubly frustrating is she knew that they would not be easily obtained.

People she wanted to seek out were not in this sector. Places she wanted to visit were several jumps away and not anywhere convenient to the PEA they sought. They were fugitives running from Duke Tan without an army to protect them, without the security that money could give them (as it was hard to seek out a bank or her inheritance just yet), and without the luxury of the imperial archives. Solae had very good clearance as a marquise, but she was not a duke or duchess, and she was not a handmaiden, so she would have limits in the best of environments. Only the empress herself could change that- and there was no guarantee how much reward she'd be given at the end of their adventure, assuming they survived.

Solae groaned to herself silently, leaned forward, and rested her forehead on her makeshift writing desk.

Stars formed and broke apart in Rene’s mind. Psychologists claimed that jumps had no effect on the minds of those who undertook them but spacers knew better. Some people enjoyed a deep dreamless while in the jump, others, less fortunate, suffered vivid nightmares. Rene’s mind spun queasily through a series of disconnected thoughts and images. The Crystal Palace on Cappela grew out of the void like an organic thing before morphing into flare bursting over a training ground on Kappa Virgio. The muzzle flashes of distant machine guns spun into the brilliant blonde of Solae’s hair as she rose, nymphlike from a pool of water as black as night. At some level he realised he was sleeping but days of operating at a hundred and fifty percent combined with the linger effect of the stun needles conspired to prevent him from waking.

The jump phantoms spun outwards in a web mapping the stars in an outward spiral spreading into the Eastern Cross. The Bonaventure sailed between the stars as a dark figure in the regalia of an Imperial Duke reached out towards vessel, snatching at it with fingers the size of starships. Rene swatted at the fingers furiously trying his best to keep the hand from closing around Solae. No matter how quickly he smote them down another finger was always there closing off their means of escape. In the background his father glowered at him, judging his performance with grim disapproval as Gisella Chastain stood behind him sharpening a long knife. Mercedez Vilatre sat atop her throne, Ameilia’s mutilated body lay before her as she arched an inquiring eyebrow at Rene, he couldn’t see it but he felt the sword of damocles hanging over his neck. Solae stood by the shoulder of the Empress, her face vaguely disappointed.

The sudden burst of deceleration jolted Rene awake. He came to his feet unsteadily his hand grasping for a weapon for a moment before the disorientation passed. The deck of the Bonaventure vibrated as the engines began the long burn to bleed off the excess velocity of the jump. A tingling shimmer ran through Rene’s body as the subatomic particles resumed their normal configurations. The jump drives whined quietly as they finished their work. Rene grabbed the hatch coming to steady himself and looked around the hold. The results of Solae’s work loomed before him, his eyes flicked over the pictures, articles and holograms. For a moment he hesitated wanting to try and take in what, if anything, she had discovered but there were other more pressing concerns.

Rene pushed his way forward into the cockpit where Solae sat, he squeezed her shoulder and leaned forward to kiss her before sliding into his chair beside her. She glanced up him with concern in her eyes and he tried to smile comfortingly, his fingers brushing the dressing on his shoulder. It occurred to him that she had removed his shirt to treat his wounds, and that it wasn’t exactly professional attire. The thought of being professional aboard a stolen ship as they flew towards a contested planet filled with people who would turn them over to their enemies in a heartbeat made his smile even broader.

“I’m ok,” he told the woman he loved.

“Thanks to you,” he expanded as he turned his eyes to the sensor readouts for his first look at Zatis.

“What have we got?”

"We're still a few hours out but no issues thus far," Solae reassured as she dimmed the cabin's lights. Without overhead illumination it was easier to take in the glow of the stars. The cockpit itself was not completely devoid of any light, as there were many controls and screens that could not be safely toggled off now that they were in their destination solar system, but there was an ambience to the darkness. The Bonventure was private, quiet, and peaceful as it sailed, and it was easy to imagine they were a pair of wayward teenagers sneaking out after curfew to gaze at the night sky. The marquise let out a soft sigh as she gazed upon the dazzling jewels of incandescence beyond their heavily shielded windows.

"Lady Solae has entered an REM cycle for approximately twenty minutes cumulatively since our departure from Panopontus," Mia crooned to Rene. The noblewoman was her mistress, but the artificial intelligence system was clever enough to know that Rene could persuade her when a computer could not. Her programming had a prime directive to keep its human or humans safe and well- even if that meant it might annoy, frustrate, or be forced to 'tattle' on them.

"There is quite a bit of traffic in and out of Zatis, and from what I understand they are rather lax with confirming identification or cargo. I don't think we'll have any issues landing," Solae continues as if she had not been interrupted by Mia ratting her out to her fiance. "I've set our course to touch down in their capital city as that's where the PEA is located. Most of the ships are coming and going from that city in particular so we'll blend in with the crowd rather well I suspect. I wouldn't be surprised if we saw some models exceedingly similar to our vessel's manufacture."

"Lady Solae, I am able to automate the piloting until we reach orbit above Zatis if you would like to rest with Sir Rene," Mia suggested with such sultry inflections it sounded as if she were making innuendo. In this particular case there were no such intentions. Mia wanted Solae to actually sleep so that she was not deprived when she set foot on soil. While Mia didn't quite realize how dangerous Zatis truly was to the couple, she was sophisticated enough machinery to have a basic notion, and thus was compelled to keep prompting Solae the longer that she was awake.

Solae shrugged her shoulders and rubbed her eyes. There were worse things to be nagged about. She felt guilty, however, about making Rene sit alone by himself seeing as he was undoubtedly no longer tired. Leaving a man who was injured, still shocked about multiple revelations, and uncomfortable flying a spacecraft felt like a crime in and of itself. With some hesitation she rose and stretched, neither committing to leaving or staying, and instead trying to work out the stiffness of her back and posterior that had been in uncomfortable seating for an extended period of time.

"On the subject of your family and Amellia... we don't have all the information we need. Our priority is to get to the PEA to send the empress a warning about Duke Tan's coup, but we might have a window of time afterwards to see if I can access their communications center. Not only will their library be more robust, the time it takes for me to send or receive messages will probably be a lot shorter as well, which will allow me a chance to see if either of my contacts can be reached." What went unsaid was that if they did manage to send their message to the empress's forces through the PEA they would desperately need allies- perhaps even moreso than they did now. Duke Tan would be more determined, more panicked, and less cautious about trying to seize them, and the empress would not send reinforcements instantly. They would need to hide for days, weeks even, mayhaps longer, with people that would not betray them as the war escalated and the rewards for their capture increased. If they sent the warning through the PEA they would need help. Without knowing anyone on Zatis the communication center and her prior acquaintances might be their only hope of long-term survival.

“I know a command when I hear one,” Rene said with a ghost of a smile. He stood up and scooped Solae up in his arms carrying her like the newlywed she was to the small captain’s cabin they shared. Unfortunately, and probably much to Mia’s electronic disappointment, he couldn’t join her and settled instead for laying her down and sharing a lingering kiss with his betrothed. While she might not have been happy about being ordered to bed by her computer, Rene waited until she succumbed to what must have been exhaustion. All nobles possessed superior physiques but the athleticism favored by males was less pronounced in females who made concessions for the sake of an aesthetic of beauty that didn’t run to chiseled musculature. Rene wondered if one day the ruling classes might become a different species from the rest of humanity, biologically speaking. Geneticists claimed that this wouldn’t be the case, as nothing was actually added to the genome, merely that certain traits, which had already existed in the gene pool, were hyper emphasised. To Rene that sounded like every example of natural selection he had ever heard cited. In their minds the ruling aristocrats were a different species already, even those who professed to populist leanings made it clear who they thought ought to be leading those movements.

When Solae’s breathing had grown slow and regular, Rene reluctantly returned to the cockpit and began to review the sensor screens. In contrast to Panopontus and New Concordia, the space above Zatis was busy. With few natural resources the Zatis system might not even have been colonized, but what it lacked in material wealth it made up for with its stellar geography. The pale blue sun of the Zatis system had once been part of a binary pair, the elder of the two stars had gone supernova at some point in the distant past and collapsed to form a black hole. The young star continued to orbit it, trailing a tail of light and matter into the black hole like a long streamer circling the may pole. The supernova had sterilized the system, but the planets had been distant enough to survive destruction.

The combination of the black hole and the dense blue star meant that the gravity shadow of Zatis was both massive, and highly distinctive. This meant that the system boasted an inordinately large number of jump points, making it a hub for commerce and, more importantly information. Once upon a time the Imperial Fleet had maintained a base in the Zatis system, as a customs point and as a convenient place to base a rapid response force in the early, dangerous days of colonization. While the fleet had been based on a moon of one of the large gas giants, the inner planet, Zatis itself, had been left uninhabited. Over the years a community had grown up there as merchants serving the fleet had built their own facilities and eventually embarked on terraforming projects though typically under massive domes rather than a complete atmosphere creation project. Eventually civil wars had stripped the naval base away from the system, leaving behind the merchants and mercenaries who found that they did just as well without any Imperial overseers and the modern polity of Zatis was born.

Rene cycled through the screens, briefly checking dozens of small freighters as well as a number of suspicious ‘private yachts’ which certainly became pirates whenever and wherever it became convenient to be so. There were also a trio of large ‘anti pirate cruisers, functionally naval vessels in the employ of the sector duke orbiting the planet. The vessels didn’t appear to be actively interfering with traffic, though they held a high guard around the world. Rene instructed Mia to passively monitor the ships while he checked the Bonaventure’s log. Conveniently, but not unsurprisingly, the Bonaventure had visited Zatis several times in the past two years. On those occasions two of the orbiting cruisers had been present, though not at the same time. It made sense that given Zatis’ importance that Duke Tan would at least want to keep an eye on the place, though this didn’t make Rene feel any better.

With several hours of travel ahead of him Rene busied himself by going through the publically available data that he was able to access with laser or microwave links. To his lack of surprise there was no word of the Rebellion, though if one knew where to look, the ‘civil emergencies’ and ‘unexpected losses of communication’ were a little too frequent to be the result of the normal natural order of a chaotic galaxy. Nor was there anything to be found on the military nets Rene was able to detect. The Imperial Navy kept a database of sailing directions, to alert ships to local conditions, and while Rene couldn’t access the database without code authorization, he was able to determine that it hadn’t been updated in over a week. Theoretically any navy ship that jumped in system would update the database and a week was an unusually long stretch of time for a location like Zatis. Rene also knew that the Marines maintained an emergency net, mostly so that men on leave could be quickly recalled than for any really secure communication, but he didn’t dare attempt to patch into it, incase the Duke’s spies were monitoring access. It would have been a logical way to sweep up Imperial troops who missed the initial purges, as soldiers checked in to see what was going on, certainly something Rene would have done if he wasn’t aware a rebellion was breaking out.

“Incoming vessel Bonaventure, state your cargo and destination. Over.” an unfriendly voice crackled across the communications system. Rene jolted out of his research into the Zatis PEA, a topic that was surprisingly difficult using only public records, and glanced up at his communications screen. The computer identified the transmission as originating from one of the Duke’s cruisers, the thirty thousand ton City of Rheims.

“Mia is this a normal practice,” he asked quickly.

“They have interrogated each inbound ship in a similar manner Sir Rene,” Mia responded breathily. Rene felt some of the tightness of his chest relax.

“They are using a coded transmission but several of the captains of the other vessels are complaining about it,” Mia added unexpectedly. Rene frowned, it sounded almost as though Mia were bragging about how she had come by the information, an emotional response that ought to have been beyond her programming. Pushing the thought from his mind he opened the channel, wishing that Solae was here to handle the talking.

“We are inbound for Zatis, running empty,” Rene responded in what he hoped was a bored tone. He deliberately bit back the reflex to end the transmission with the word over, figuring that proper comm discipline had no place on a tramp freighter. Rene watched the range finders tick steadily downwards, uncomfortably aware that they were already within the outer limits of the warships guns.

“Running empty Bonaventure? That is no way to run a business,” the communications officer aboard the City of Rheims responded with slightly more than idle curiosity in his voice. Thinking very fast Rene pulled up the past few stops from the Bonaventure had made.

“Tell me about it Rhiemy,” Rene improvised, “We took some damage landing on Cromwell’s World, took everything we had just to get airborne again. We are going to take a real bath on this one.”

There was another pause that was probably longer in Rene’s mind than in the real universe.

“Roger that Boney, better luck next time. Rheims out.”

Rene let out a long breath of relief, they would be in orbit within the hour. So far, so good.

Approximately an hour and a half before they would need to make their descent onto the surface of Zatis Mia provided an alarm- a gentle beeping noise that rose in intensity every thirty seconds- to awake Solae as pleasantly as possible. The marquise was reluctant to leave the comfort of her bed and only did so begrudgingly, largely due to the nagging insistence of the artificial intelligence (who had the best of intentions). With time to spare before she was required in the cockpit she showered, changed her clothes, fetched a nutritional bar as a meal substitute, and made a mug of instant coffee in an effort to make herself more alert. Exhaustion had not only made her sleep deeply, it had also made her exceedingly groggy when she was ripped out of the world of dreamless repose, so she was hopeful the chemical stimulant of caffeine would assist. They had less than an hour, yet more than half an hour, when she finally made her way to the pilot's seat.

"Mia, how close are we to Zatis? No, let me rephrase. How much time left in the approach before we breach the upper atmosphere?" she inquired as she stifled a yawn. "I assume there is a shipyard where we can safely land and store the Bonaventure since we don't have a shuttle."

The Bonaventure was a perfectly functional spacecraft and spacious for only two occupants, but it was one of the smaller freighters; as such it was a popular choice for merchants transporting delicate precious goods and smugglers similar to the previous owners that needed to keep their vessel light, cheap, and fast. What lacked in the ability to ferry large amounts of heavy cargo it made up for in the boon of not needing to dock at a space station. Carriers typically had to put themselves in orbit or dock at a station because their size made it burdensome, if not impossible, to safely land on the surface. Even the most elite aristocrats had private yachts that toed the standards of what was allowed to pierce the sky. Depending on what sort of business they had, and nobility were notoriously paranoid about privacy unless they wanted it broadcasted, taking a shuttle could be anything from an inconvenient to an embarrassment or detriment to their plans.

"Fourty-three minutes, Lady Solae. Did you want to set safety protocols in place while we are en route? It is my understanding that you will not be disclosing your identities once on Zatis and that I should not allow anyone to board while you are away," she purred affectionately.

"I hadn't thought about that yet," the linguist replied honestly as she leaned forward and pulled one of the screens on a swinging arm closer to her to scrutinize. Mia obediently displayed an array of counter-measures in the event that someone was trying to break into the Bonaventure. If Duke Tan's forces located them they would undoubtedly try to prevent the engaged pair from making it within a hundred meters of their getaway vehicle, but Zatis was not populated with honest folk, and it would be madness to park their traveling home without any precautions taken against theft or damage. It would only take one overly curious and morally bankrupt individual to stumble into their sanctuary and find the means to expose their true selves.

"Lady Solae, as you make your selections, may I be of any assistance in locating accommodations for your stay on Zatis?"

"I'm afraid that we'll probably be using aliases and using the sort of establishment that doesn't take reservations, Mia, but thank you for asking," Solae murmured as she rapped her fingers on the side of the console thoughtfully. There was something almost exciting about waltzing into a seedy hotel with Rene. It was dangerous to be certain, but it was one of many places that had been forbidden to someone of her stature growing up, and thus there was a childish thrill at 'breaking the rules' even if her parents would never again be able to enforce them. As her thought turned to her parents she wondered quietly if there were assets they possessed of which she was unaware. Preparations for empowering her to inherit their title had been cut short with their untimely deaths. Duke Tan had unintentionally crippled her from using all the resources at her disposal simply by eliminating the elder Falias.

"Are there any public logs of visitors to Zatis or public property records for the planet?" Solae asked suddenly.

"I do not believe so, Lady Solae. Is there something in particular you are seeking?" she asked with captive wonder in her sultry tone.

"Just wondering if there is something I am missing. I don't believe this is the sort of place my parents would be caught vacationing but they were... eccentric, so I can never be certain what they did or did not do in their private lives." It was refreshing to talk to a computer because, as machinery without an ounce of emotion, it could not and would not judge her for her confessions. Mia might react with a pre-programmed response to a topic or sentence for which she had a trigger, but she couldn't feel appalled, she couldn't roll her eyes and deem something 'crazy.' It was painful to speak of her mother and father but it kept their memory alive. There were few others in the universe she'd discuss them with as freely as the algorithm that was inappropriately seductive. "Once I turned thirty they planned to give me full disclosure of every holding they had, every account, every connection and its nature. I didn't really care about how much money we had but I hoped it'd give me more insight into what sort of people they were when they weren't reprimanding me, or dictating my behavior, or criticizing a count for poor etiquette. I don't know what they did when they were my age, or who they had affection for outside of their political marriage, or what hobbies they explored in their free time."

"I am sorry to hear that, Lady Solae. Would you like me to seek more information on the deceased Falias?" Mia cooed.

"If you can covertly access any information about them it'd be appreciated," Solae smiled. "Here I've been investigating Rene's family and Amellia's family, and now I may very well know more of them than my own."

Rene quietly cursed himself as the Bonaventure began the gentle breaking thrust that would bring them into Zatis orbit. It was one thing to make a mistake in the chaotic confusion of a firefight or in the heat of the moment but he didn’t have any excuse for this current screw up. They had been so intent on reaching Zatis that they hadn’t really planned for their arrival. Three holographic screens hung in the air in front of him, all the details of the Bonaventure’s previous visits displayed. It wasn’t much to go on, little more than logs of trajectories and automated communication hand shakes. With Mia’s aid though it was possible to translate the information into something useful. Trajectories became landing platforms and repair facilities, communication codes could be back tracked to a list of known associates. If Rene had the time he supposed that someone with Solae’s skill could peel back the information further to uncover the shadowy world of slave trafficking that the Bonaventure’s late and unlamented captain had travelled. All that could wait however. The current problem was that Rene needed to find somewhere to land them, that was close to their goal, and yet not out of character for a ship like theirs. He had to avoid places the ship and her crew might be spotted by people who knew the previous owner and he had to find some way to pay for landing privileges. The small store of credits they had captured with the ship would cover the landing fees that the various starports charged, but only just, and Rene doubted they could afford much in the way of bribes. Accessing money was going to be difficult as any spies the Duke had would certainly have flagged any accounts linked to Solae. Rene’s own accounts the few thousand credits of an Imperial Marine’s salary, might be accessible, but by now the Duke might have identified him as well. There was a remote possibility that he could access his family accounts if he could find a banking house of sufficiently interstellar scope, he wasn’t sure if his father had sealed his access, but even if he could, the sudden appearance of an Imperial noble wasn’t likely to go unnoticed by any watchers.

Zatis swelled in the viewscreen as they reached orbit, the slightly grey blue world pocked by occasional electrical storms of its on going terraforming. Down there, somewhere, was the PEA array that would let them contact the Stellar Empire and spread the word about Duke Tan’s treason. But Zatis wasn’t like New Concordia or even Panopontus. On those worlds they had found allies, Oanh Park and his wife, and Damaris and her family, without whom they would likely not have survived, but he was less confidant of such aid here. Zatis was a wild place, a haven for criminals and mercenaries, all of whom would be amply motivated to turn Solae over to the Duke for his generous reward. Even if the PEA were still working and they could get to it, what then? An Imperial squadron would take weeks to reach the Eastern Cross, weeks in which they would have to face the vengeful wrath of the Duke and his forces.

Rene sighed and tried to clear his mind of worries and doubts. The door opened and Solae entered the bridge, looking radiant as always. Some of the tension ebbed out of Rene at once, Solae’s mere presence made him feel like anything was possible and that good things could happen even in the darkest situation. He had been putting off waking her for as long as possible, but he had to admit to a feeling of relief that she was going to be at the controls for the landing. Mia’s blunt critique of his piloting skills hadn’t improved his confidence, and though he was sure there was a simulator somewhere in the freighters ancient and disorganised database he had not had the time or inclination to find it.

Standing Rene crossed the bride to Solae and wrapped her in his arms kissing her passionately even as the console began to beep as they reached the end of the autopilot. Ever since he had met her they had been operating on someone elses time table and Rene dearly wished they had time just to be together. Unfortunately the universe did not seem inclined to comply.

“I love you,” Rene whispered before, reluctantly, releasing Solae so she could take her place at the pilots station.

“What is the plan?” he asked eagerly.

"Years ago my parents arranged for me to take a couple classes in subterfuge and deception, just in case it was absolutely necessary. I think they envisioned it as just being part of courtly training, since hardly anyone is truthful, but my instructor had some insight I think we can use in our present situation. She said the most important thing when you are 'faking it' is acting like you belong. If you are looking around, second-guessing yourself, people will doubt you. If you stroll along an exude confidence, and as if you know your exact purpose and destination, they will be much more likely to believe it as well."

"Lady Solae, we are at the correct distance Zatis's exosphere to begin our descent," Mia reminded her mistress gently as if attempting to seduce her from the attention being paid to Rene.

"Thank you, Mia. I don't really have a plan," Solae stated sincerely, "except to go straight to the PEA once we touch down in the space yard. While you were asleep I was too busy dissecting the data gathered and attempting to solve a mystery, and right now my focus is on landing us safely. I might be piloting but I am not a pilot; because this is not committed to muscle memory it takes all of my concentration. Even if I had all the time and energy in the world I doubt it'd help me fashion a true plan on Zatis. I've no contacts here, no allies of which I am aware, no holdings, no assets- we're on our own. We'll have to improvise unless you devise another course of action."

The marquise strapped herself into her chair, securing the safety harness straps meant to keep her from ejecting through the cockpit in the even of disaster, and moved her hand across the screen of a console. In the wake of her fingers various displays flickered back to life from where they had been dormant. Zatis was a haven for criminals but not without bureaucracy. The space yard alluded to seconds before kept most moving in an orderly fashion to pre-assigned spaces determined by ship shape, size, and arrival time. Guests could access their vessels at their disposal, order maintenance, or even contract engineers and mechanics to make improvements during their stay. Efficiency was the bedfellow of profit and while Zatis might not respect law, it certainly respected economic incentives.

"Mia, I would like you to talk us both through the landing process. I will still be driving us, so to speak, but I want for Rene to learn this with me as well," Solae ordered casually.

"Lady Solae, you are an excellent pilot," Mia re-assured with her typical overly amorous flattery.

"Thank you, Mia, but this isn't up for discussion- from either of you," Solae insisted.

What she did not reveal to the artificial intelligence, if only because she didn't want to be derailed by a philosophical debate with a synthetic consciousness, was that she knew things could go horribly wrong at any given moment. Perhaps decades from now she and Rene would be sharing cocktails on an alien shoreline laughing about her dalliance into the realm of aeronautics. It was more probable, however, that her future would result in incapacitation, capture, and/or death, which would force her fiance to know how to helm the Bonaventure as well as possible. If something tragic occurred to Solae she would be damned if she'd let her arrogance and pride result in Rene's downfall as well.

"How long from now until we have our feet on the ground, Mia?" the diplomat asked, both of out of interest and as a means of smoothing things over now that she had asserted her authority rather sternly.

"Less than an hour accounting for traffic in Zatis's atmosphere," Mia purred, referring to the transportation vehicles that was used to cross terrain on more advanced planets. There was a wide variety of such vehicles; public transport that carried many people and used minor gravitational manipulation, more archaic creations of the poor that could barely hover if at all, and the 'jets' of the aristocrats that were sleek, fast, and conveyed them from one point to another without requiring a full spacecraft crew (as well as the resources).

Rene opened his mouth to object, but an arched eyebrow from Solae was enough to quell the impulse. Obediently he touched a series of holographic key and brought up the piloting display. Like all Marines Rene had been around enough landing craft to know the basics, but his instructors had been careful to keep him away from any specialty training that might have offered him a chance to distinguish himself. The Marines might technically have been a new life, but that didn’t make them immune to the political pressures that wanted Rene to remain as inconsequential as possible. Fortunately, while the Bonaventure was an ill maintained ship, even the clunkiest tramp freighter had a sophisticated software suite, that included a training mode. The training suite allowed Rene to control the ship as an auxiliary, the computer accepting his inputs only when they didn’t clash with Solae’s.

“Ok, I have a space yard within about fifty kilometers of the main administrative complex that is cheap and nasty enough for a boat like this,” Rene said, transmitting the coordinates to Solae’s terminal. Almost at once the Bonaventure thrummed as Solae fed power to the thrusters and eased them down into the atmosphere. It was far smoother than their previous decent, Zatis not only lacked an active hurricane, it also possessed only the thinest of atmospheres. The early stages of terraforming had been begun only decades ago, and even under the best circumstances the process could take nearly a century to complete. They were descending towards the darkside of the planet and so Rene could see the soft phosphorescence of the shallow seas that teemed with genetically engineered microbial life that slowly broke down the carbon dioxide into water and oxygen and strung the spare carbon together into precursor organics and fixed harmful elements like sulfur into thin layers of rock. It was unusual that a world was settled before terraforming, as the process, particularly at the early stages, could be very energetic, but Zatis was an unusual world in many regards. Even now, its atmosphere was breathable, but so thin that no one could stand it for long without a respirator to concentrate oxygen. Rather than deal with the atmosphere, the denizens of that world had constructed vast domes of modular hexagonal crystal, that kept processed air under pressure. Without the central direction of the Empire to give it form, the process had been haphazard and the domes bulged and twisted like cancerous growths, wherever this entrepreneur or that had tried to add a little extra space. The panels were originally clear but grit blown in the air had tarnished the majority of the panels, particularly those in the poorer areas and they were frequently all but opaque for lack of maintenance.

Air traffic buzzed through all levels of the stratosphere as they descended towards the largest of the domed cities. Fortunately the landing fee Rene had agreed to pay at the space yard covered access to local navigational aids which mapped the progress of all the aircraft. Without roads, or other surface transport, all intercourse between the cities had to be conducted via aircraft, of which there were a dizzying array. Rene didn't doubt that the small air cars and jets had much more to worry about from the freighter and its blazing plasma thrusters then they did from the few tons of an aircraft colliding with them, but he would just as soon not put that belief to the test, particularly not when they were trying to be inconspicuous.

Solae guided them down towards the Lysin Yard, the name of the landing area they had rented a space from. In order to avoid opening the domes, the space yards clustered around the edge of the irregular domes, like the white of an egg with a particularly massive yoke, or perhaps the red inflammation ringing a boil that was about to burst. Solae, whose prior experience had been under much more adverse circumstances, bought them in with hardly a wobble. Rene mirrored her action on his own console, though his corrections were too quick and too large for the mass of the ship and the program frequently canceled his maneuvers. As they got closer to the ground he fought down his frustration and tried to think of it more like shooting, calming his breathing and deliberately waiting an extra few heartbeats before making corrections. This seemed to improve his performance, but the ship still took Solae’s commands the vast majority of the time. He was so engrossed in the exercise that when the landing skids settled onto the concrete it came as something of a surprise.

Lysin Yard was perhaps ten acres of open concrete, dotted with outbuildings and maintenance shops. The concrete itself was burned and scarred from thousands of starship landings,those areas that were not charred black, shone with an opalescence of spilled hydrocarbons. Unhealthy vapors rose from the shimmering spills in a way that wouldn’t have happened in a true atmosphere. Two other ships shared the landing space with them. Both were larger the the Bonaventure but were equally dilapidated. One of the behemoths had a large section of hull plating removed, exposing her innards, though no repairmen currently seemed to be attending the ship. The other was being unloaded by a team of men in respirators to allow them to breath. They had formed a daisy chain and were unloading sacks of what might have been rice or flour, passing them man to man before depositing them on a big aircusion truck for eventual transhipment. Both ships were attached to a large corrugated iron building that abutted the side of the dome by long umbilicals of rubberized white fabric on steel rings. The material might once have been white, but was so stained and so frequently patched that it resembled disruptive camouflage. The umbilicals tethered to the airlocks of the ships, allowing passengers and crew to go back and forth to dome without having to don respirators.

“Well, on the plus side, it seems vanishingly unlikely anyone is here to arrest us,” Rene joked as he surveyed the situation. While it was possible that men could be waiting inside, it seemed unlikely that even professional actors could continue to unload the freighter with the bored nonchalance the ground crew was managing if that kind of excitement were in the offing. A man in a protective suit emerged from the terminal building and shouted something at one of the men unloading sacks. The laborer looked up, nodded and then grabbed a second man who seemed to be taking a break. Together they began to extend a third umbilical, manhandling it towards the Bonaventure’s forward airlock.

“Well, time to meet the locals…”

"Just remember to be confident," Solae reminded Rene as she engaged the safety protocols that would effectively keep the Bonvanture parked even if an unscrupulous individual managed to board. The marquise didn't doubt Mia's abilities, but she wanted to make certain that if anyone had the expertise to disable the artificial intelligence they would have difficulty stealing the spaceship. It was rather hypocritical of her, who had committed felony larceny to obtain it in the first place, to take more precautions to keep another thief from doing the same. The metal groaned as locks slid into place on the underside of their vessel. The smugglers who previously owned their home-away-from-home hadn't bothered to use the safeguards since they needed speedy departures on the regular, kept it hidden, and undoubtedly had a reputation for murdering anyone stupid enough to cross them.

Before opening the hold door, which was now connected via a large tube to the port terminal at which they had parked, she pulled out the scarf that had been gifted to her. Solae carefully pulled back her hair, twisted it into a silken rope, and tucked it into the back of the scarf as she pulled it over her head. Satisfied every golden strand had been tucked away she also shrugged on an oversized men's coat. The sleeves were long enough to cover half her hand and the bottom seam was past her hips but it disguised her figure. On Zatis a lady with her physique was not as rare as on Panopontus, but she didn't want to be associated with a woman in the profession that it would be naturally associated with. The hood of the coat was layered on top of her scarf to complete the look. On close inspection she would still stick out like a sore thumb, but she looked far more inconspicuous for Zatis dressed this way, and it was immeasurably better than strolling out there without any outerwear.

"We should take our weapons just to be safe," she told Rene. He already knew, of course, and was slinging a pre-packed bag over her shoulder as she made her observation aloud. Her paramour gave her a slightly nervous, yet handsomely roguish smile. Solae steeled her nerves. They would be fine because they had to be fine; failure was not an option. With her own butterflies in her stomach she kissed his cheek.

The terminal was manned by a bored security guard who was not there to ask questions or investigate in any capacity; his sole directive was to keep anyone from parking that could not or would not pay the fee. He didn't even so much as glance up from his sparse, worn down desk littered with discarded snack containers. One could only surmise what he was watching on his personal screen. Because he knew Solae and Rene's ship had arranged payment before they docked, accomplished via a wireless credit transfer, he wasn't motivated to let their presence interrupt him any further than it already had.

"Mia gave me directions to the location of the PEA," Solae whispered once they were out of earshot. "We can visually gauge what we're up against, walk past it a couple blocks, and discuss some options. I don't want to try to fashion a plan before we see the building itself. Obviously New Concordia's was housed in an embassy of stature but we can safely assume the one here on Zatis will be quite different."

The fringes of the city were unlike any other metropolis she had visited. Biodomes obscured the sky, giving everyone on Zatis the impression it was constantly overcast, or they were all trapped below a cloud of fog. Filtration units pumped impurities out of the bidomes and into the atmosphere of the terraforming planet but the air did not feel clean necessarily. Solae did not feel as if she was choking on pollution, but it feel comparatively stale to other worlds, and there was a faint taste of chemicals when she breathed. With each passing minute she became more accustomed to it and thus less aware of it, but that did not make it any less present.

Scraggly trees and hedges lined the streets but none were the blooming beauties found on worlds favored by aristocrats. Rene and Solae had set foot in one of the business quarters, rather than a pleasure district, and thus everything around them was more pragmatically utilitarian. Buildings were fabricated of sturdy material that would withstand the test of time but was not pleasing to the eye. Signs and ads were on every corner, and many in-between, advertising all the services and goods that were forbidden elsewhere. In front of an antiques shop (which was most certainly a smuggler's operation) was a holographic woman dressed to seduce talking about a night club in the adjacent biodome. This was the subject of most the ads she spotted, but there were also brightly lit ads for bars with 'special cocktails,' venues with dancing individuals of both sexes, dens encouraging experimentation with 'the sciences,' and one corporation that pledged it could make any dream come true. Solae doubted they knew the substance of her dreams.

Zatis residents either walked with confidence that bordered on arrogance, passively asserting themselves as they passed, not sparing a glance to anyone because of their self-importance, or they scuttled along half-hunched, as if trying to hide from absolutely everyone in proximity, the very stereotype that children's tales had of rogues. The marquise suspected these were people in disguise like she was or were struggling with shame, guilt, and/or poverty. Regardless of their situation no one truly looked at Solae or Rene. They caught an errant look here or there but they were mentally dismissed just as quickly as they were inadvertently spotted. No law enforcement or soldiers were looking for anyone- and that worked in their favour. With thousands of criminals all about them, and people with almost as much coin traveling here every day, they weren't as special.

Except for one woman who surreptitiously picked up their trail at a distance.

"I think we're being followed," Rene noted to her in a low tone just as she was noticing herself.

"Just keep walking," Solae said nervously without an inch of conviction. "Maybe we can shake them when.."

"It's dangerous for you to be here," a man whispered to her as he seemed to melt out of the shadows on the other side of Solae. He pushed her into Rene roughly just as their tail, a middle-aged veteran mercenary, withdrew her pistol and took a shot from the hip at the pair. The stranger's intervention forced Solae into Rene, doing him no favors, but made the plasma burn graze her side rather than penetrate a valuable section of her torso that would have caused significant trauma.

Rene spun smoothly, the heat of the plasma bolt close enough to his arm to singe his hairs. It burst on the facade of sculpted concrete half a block ahead of them spraying passers buy with shards of sharp hot stone. People screamed and ran for cover, most of them probably didn’t even realise what was happening, merely following the crowd, though in this case the impulse probably was a good one. Rene reached into his jacket, a heavy spacers garment meant to be proof against the mishaps of shipboard life, and pulled his own pistol free. Like their assailant, he opened fire without taking the extra few seconds to aim, more intent on preventing a second shot than putting down the attacker. The electromotive pistol cracked sharply and the mercenary dodge backwards as one of the shrubby plants in a planter beside her burst into splinters. Rene corrected his aim even as he used his body weight to force Solae and the newcomer into an alley and out of the immediate line of fire. His opponent fired a second time but she was clearly rattled by the failure of her ambush and it flew high splashing harmlessly off the distant dome. Rene settled his sight picture, finger taking up the slack, but before he could fire the mercenary sensed her danger and dived behind the cover of a large industrial trash container. Tracking automatically Rene fired into the obstruction, spraying a shower of sparks in all directions.

“Rene!” Solae called and the soldier yielded to a tug on his arm that drew him into the alley and out of sight. A flash of frustration shadowed his mind for a moment, Marine training was always to attack and not to leave an enemy alive while they could still do you harm, but his rational mind quickly overtook the conditioning. The shooter wasn’t a problem, unless she was crazy enough to run a block and turn into an alley where, for all she knew, Rene was lying in wait. That was unlikely as no one who lived to the apparent age of their attacker was stupid enough to pursue a dangerous opponet blindly. Plus there was the newcomer to consider.

The man was cloaked and difficult to make out, as Rene and Solae followed him quickly down the alleyway. Rene briefly considered that this might be some sort of ruse, designed to lure Solae into a trap by threatening her with false danger, but if that were the case the mercenary gunwoman had come way too close to killing Solae outright. Like the rest of Zatis the alley was dingy but not the trash piled midden Rene had expected. There must be some sort of sanitation service, even if that was as simple as bulldozing refuse into central locations for incineration

“I have a car!” the stranger was calling glancing back over his shoulder at them. Rene followed behind Solae, keeping his gaze over his shoulder in case he had been wrong, until they emerged from the alley. They stepped through a shimmering curtain of light which Rene belatedly realised was a holographic advertisements, and onto a broad boulevard. The street here was still filled with people though there were nervous glances in the general direction of the gunfire of moments ago. Zatis clearly wasn't a world where shootings were an unusual event. Air cushion vehicles moved up and down the street. Though most of the conveyances appeared to be commercial rather than personal, there were a number of air cars and sedans both in the street and parked along the sidewalk.

The stranger removed something from his pocket and the doors of a large aircar folded upwards like gull wings. It was an older model, though it must have been expensive when it was new, and appeared to be of a Cappelan design. The interior bespoke wealth, with fine paneling of some kind of dark polished wood as well as a high grade synthetic leather. The stranger climbed into the drivers seat as Solae jumped into the passenger seat, nursing the near miss from the plasma bolt. Rene half stepped half dived into the rear compartment, keeping his pistol muzzle trained on the advertisement hologram, which distance had resolved into a shimmering naked woman beckoning with a crooked finger. The text beneath read: Paradox - Where Nothing is as it Seems. The fans of the aircar hummed to life and it lifted in a spray of dust and grit, angling along the street in the direction they had originally been going, optimum for putting distance between them and their attackers. The driver, whoever he was, kept them close to the ground for a hundred meters or so, a professional move that kept the vulnerable fan nacelles safe from gunfire, before lifting them to a safer altitude.

"We need to get you medical attention," the mystery man said half to himself and half to Solae, who was leaning against the window of the aircar.

Her side was burning from where she had been grazed but the pain did not concern her as much as the events that had just transpired. There was a bounty on her head she knew, yet Duke Tan needed her alive to access the PEA, and the mercenary woman had been undeniably shooting to kill the marquise rather than debilitate. The last few days had forced the diplomat to confront her mortality. Dying from injuries sustained in risky escapades with Rene was a distinct possibility- but it was a choice. They had elected to save the enslaved Syshin, to steal the Bonvanture, to run headlong into danger knowing the risk. The would-be assassin did afford her any choices. Had this stranger not intervened she could have been murdered in cold blood without any agency, without choice, without even the knowledge of why she was being targeted now and to what ends.

"Cristeta," the man said as he pushed a button to his left. The screen between the driver's seat and the passenger seat lit up but there was no visual of the woman being summoned. Instead of being greeted with a digital display of her face there was only a solid green line indicating a connection and moving blue waves that indicated the tone and pitch of the voice being transmitted. "I need you to meet me at my safe house on Kadiev."

"Understood," the other side responded. "What sort of injury do I need to pack for?"

The man put a finger to his lips to indicate Solae and Rene should stay quite before he replied. "It's not for me. A young woman in her twenties who was grazed by a plasma bolt. I'd like you to make preparations to also give her a proper check-up and none of your assistants this time. It's in our best interests we act with the utmost discretion this time, Cristeta. Our ETA is about twenty minutes."

"I'll see you then, Ten," she said hastily before ending the call. One could only presume this meant she had little time to make her way to the safe house mentioned before their helpful companion would be considering her tardy. The entire exchange had a passive sense that the 'good Samaritan' was in a higher position than the physician either in terms of wealth, socially, and/or politically. He was not overly condescending to her but he was definitely giving orders he expected to be obeyed.

"Who are you? Is your name Ten?" Solae asked once the call had been obviously terminated.

"Ten is the name I go by but obviously not my real name," he stated calmly. "I had my suspicions when New Concordia went dark that something happened to you or your parents, but I am relieved to see that you are well. You must be the soldier I've heard rumors about traveling with Solae," he to Rene.

"I am," Rene confirmed with more than a little suspicion. No one wanted to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth but this man was still suspicious enough that he was keeping his guard up. Just because he and Solae were safe now was no guarantee that Ten's motivations might not shift and convince him to betray them for the lofty rewards offered.

"Why are you helping us?" Solae demanded with thinly veiled frustration as she favored her side.

"That is an excellent question but there is not an easy answer for it I'm afraid," Ten said smoothly. "Your parents, grandparents, and generations before them have been active in the courts of the empire. What I doubt they told you was that their ties were not limited to business arrangements with other nobility. The Falias have been collecting information since before they even realized what they were doing. People like to share with the Falias because they are charming, trustworthy, loyal, and judicious- you do not hear of the Falias using their clout to topple dynasties simply because they can. Some opportunists would rather see you dead than have you inherit the fortune of secrets the Falias keep and store. I would much rather help you now and ensure that no one else finds the skeletons in my closet. That and I rather liked your parents. They were eccentric individuals but shrewd and sensible, which is more than I can say for most of their standing."

"The Falias keep secrets?" Solae asked mystified. "What sort of secrets?"

"They know much I imagine- everything from the illegitimate children of the upper class and their torrid affairs to the crimes that have been committed, known and unknown, against each other and the general populace. I've no doubt that if Duke Tan hears about this cache he will try to exploit it to undermine the Empress's power, though a man like him must have his own secrets, or family secrets, to which the Falias are privy."

"Were my parents... criminals?" the marquise asked quietly.

"No, not at all. They listened but to the best of my knowledge they didn't dabble in illicit trade. If anything it likely taught them about how easily destroyed a duke or duchess could be if the truth about them was exposed. They had the wisdom of caution from what I've heard. I am, however, a criminal," Ten remarked casually.

“Are you all right?” Rene asked Solae, pulling open the small first aid it he carried and spraying the wound with a combination sealant and antiseptic. The wound wasn’t serious, just as Solae had said, but he was conscious of Oanh Park’s advice about not overestimating Solae’s stamina.

“A criminal?” Rene asked his eyes narrowing slightly, the pistol in his hand had cooled so it didn’t blacken the leather finish as he pointed the barrel at the driver. At this range the seat wouldn’t slow the slug appreciable, but shooting the driver of an air car in mid flight posed other problems.

“What kind?” Rene asked, his voice so casual that only Solae, who knew him intimately, would have recognised it for the warning it was.

“I’m a broker of sorts, goods, information,” Ten, or whatever his real name was, responded evasively.

“Do you deal in Syshin?” Rene asked still casual. Ten laughed and shook his head. Rene lowered the pistol though it still pointed at the pilot through the seat and the man probably knew it.

“I wont claim I’m too pure,” the man admitted, “but that particular market is pretty well cornered on Zatis.” Rene grunted, now was not the time to continue the work they had begun on New Concordia, but the day would come when the Empire would smash the trade and he suspected Ten would be able to provide just the information needed to do it.

The aircar banked, having covered several dozen blocks in the space of a handful of seconds. The more or less commercial landscape had given way to larger structures of less definite purpose. Some were clearly workplaces, offices or warehouse, but others were just as clearly residences set apart by landscaping mostly with genetically altered stock that could live in the artificial light of the domes. On many urban landscapes tall buildings were the sign of status. The domes foreclosed such construction and so on Zatis power was commanded by the size of a buildings footprint rather than its height.

“If you deal in information then you know about our situation?” Rene pressed, uncomfortable with this unexpected turn of events.

“I know that Duke Tan has declared Solae Falia a rebel and offered a huge bounty for her capture,” Ten admitted. The aircar was slowing appreciably, dropping towards a large building of tastefully finished grey stone that shone in the domes artificial light like buffed granite. The roof had been carefully landscaped and was planted with a variety of trees, that had lush green coloration, despite the fact they were probably engineered for the low water conditions on Zatis. In the center of the roof shimmered an idyllic pool of cool blue water.

“I suspect…” Ten hesitated, making some pretence of fiddling with the controls.

“That given the lack of other communications in the past few days, it means something is majorly wrong politically,” Ten concluded. Rene neither applified nor contradicted the statement as the aircar sunk towards the pool. The car touched the pool and slid through the apparent water in a shimmer of light. Holograms used convincingly to provide privacy were nothing new, though Rene rather suspected there were electronic countermeasures also. They slipped into a large garage area in which several aircars, ranging from the ultra luxurious to the battered and inconspicuous sat. There were no staff in sight.

Ten motioned for his passengers to exit the vehicle as he clambered out himself. He was an odd fellow by all accounts. The criminal moved with a practiced grace and fluidity as he stepped onto the paved ground, which had a dull sheen under the lights above, but he was also unassuming rather than using this poise to give an air of passive dominance. His garage proved that he had great wealth but Ten's clothing was neither expensive nor inexpensive. To the casual observer he was strikingly ordinary. He did not dress all in black like a thief, but was also not ostentatious; that was the true secret to his success undoubtedly. Aristocrats and commoners alike paid attention to someone that was dirty, poor, and suspiciously covered, and they paid attention to the well-groomed, rich, and decadent attired. Ten was neither of these. By maintaining an air of banality it was almost impossible to notice him, much less recall him later in great detail. Solae could almost imagine describing him to law enforcement officials. Tall, but not freakishly tall, dark hair and eyes, medium build, shirt and slacks, no visible scars or tattoos, no identifying facial features or marks.

"Is Cristeta here yet?" he called out to no one in particular.

"Miss Cristeta is waiting for you in the drawing room," a clinical male voice retorted from one of the speakers camouflaged into the walls.

"This way," Ten motioned. Solae hesitated but, after glancing towards Rene, followed their host. If he had wanted to harm them he had ample opportunity to do so, and he could have also easily delivered them to someone aligned with Duke Tan's interests. That he was taking precaution to keep her hidden meant at least, for now, she had a tenuous amount of trust in the mysterious broker. He had professed his loyalty to the Falias and thus far had acted with sincerity towards that fidelity. She knew nothing of this 'vault' she mentioned but having a reason for his alliance that was reasonable and practical gave her an ounce of faith.

Through a pair of double doors on the north side of the garage was a tastefully decorated hallway. Lord Armon and the slaver's mansion were displays of ego and prestige but Ten's dwelling was neither. The wooden floors below their feet were exquisite, and the framed paintings on their left and right worth a small fortune, but it was all done for Ten's enjoyment only. No strange sculptures obstructed their walkway, not everything was coated in gold or another fine metal, and there was no furniture that suggested it was a congregating space for when he entertained. It was reminiscent of the style of nobility that was so secure in themselves they no longer took an effort to prove their station.

"On your left," Ten instructed. He stepped around Solae and opened the door for her amicably.

Inside the drawing room was a large marble fireplace that saw little use, a large ornate woven rug in shades of crimson, muted gold, and shades of both black and brown, a sofa upholstered in an animal skin more luxurious than leather, and accompanying wooden chairs upholstered in a silk stripe fabric. More intriguing than any of this, however, were the large bookcases that dominated the wall opposite the door. Tomes, delicate figurines, and scrolls of parchment were displayed behind a protective glass that allowed view but disallowed handling.

"Cristeta, this is my guest for which I requested your expertise," Ten remarked as he strode towards a cabinet in the corner and pulled out a large decanter of amber liquid as well as a trio of glasses. "Do not worry yourselves over Cristeta," he assured Rene and Solae casually as he ran a hand through his hair. When it was disheveled it had made him look to be in perhaps his late twenties, but now that it had been smoothed back away from his forehead he had a regal maturity of someone in their mid-thirties at least. "Cristeta is a woman with discretion. My associates with loose lips do not last long. Would you like a drink, soldier?"

"Ten, I appreciate your help but we need..." Solae began.

"It can wait until Cristeta makes sure you are well and there is no further aid she can give you. You can use another room if you would like some privacy," he suggested. "Or you can stay here if it will make you more comfortable. As Cristeta can attest I have no interest in either of you other than discussion."

"His taste is in older men," Cristeta whispered to Solae discreetly, though Ten did not seem to mind if she broadcast it to the entire sector. It was her sense of propriety that made her hesitant to talk about such things too loudly. "Much older men," she emphasized.

Rene settled into one of the chairs feeling the same peculiar sense of unease he had at Lord Armon’s manor. Though he had grown up in environments even more luxurious than this, since joining the marines he had worked hard to put that part of his world in the past. Being back among such splendour now seemed somehow surreal. There could be no doubt that Ten was a man of considerable means. Rene was no bibliophile but he knew enough about books to recognise that the library on the wall was a true collection and not merely the standard collection of works many minor aristocrats curated to give the allusion of erudition.

Ten certainly wasn’t an aristocrat, the lack of genetic modifications made that as obvious as Solae’s unnaturally golden hair, but he had certainly risen to as high a level as any commoner could dare to aspire. That made Rene uncomfortable, though he couldn’t have articulated quite why. Entrance into the aristocracy was the next logical step. Sexual desire was hardly an important factor in aristocratic unions, given that children were designed rather than born. Perhaps he simply had as much as he wanted, or perhaps he was smart enough to realise what was likely to happen to those who allied themselves with Duke Tan. He might simply be playing the long game to curry favor with an important noble family, or trying to avoid ruinous secrets being made public just as he said. Rene supposed that he had saved them from the ambush, and for that he owed their host at least a tenuous trust.

“No thank you,” Rene replied declining the drink politely. Ten nodded without particularly inflection as Cristeta went to work. She was an attractive woman in her early thirties with short closely cropped brown hair. Her skin was very slightly two toned with lines of a slightly paler shade overlaying her normal colouration, tell tale signs of tattoo removal surgery though with a standard skin graft rather than a genetically tailored version which would have matched perfectly. She lifted a medical multiplexer and ran the sensor probe over Solae’s burn. The snake like probe retracted into the instrument with the sample of DNA and began to hum as it synthesized stem cells. Cristetalooked at the palm sized view screen and made few more adjustments with the deft skill of an artist at work, then began to make slow passes over the burned area. A fine mist of medications and stem cells sprayed from the multiplexer’s nozzle, binding with the wounded area before a laser communicated the desired configuration. The cells bonded and debrived the burned tissue while the analgesics blocked the pain receptors. Cristeta paused and retrieved a small set of forceps before tugging away the layer she had just deposited, removing burned and damaged cells.

Rene watched the process with fascination. The technique was similar to the medi-comp he had used back on the slavers plantation, though it didn't require full immersion. The multiplexer clicked as Cristea made another adjustment and began laying down additional layers, the stem cells adopting the computers desired configuration and rebuilding the skin one dermal layer at a time. Cristea made frequent adjustments, though she rarely took her eyes off the injury, seeming to know that to adjust the way a painter knows how much color to mix. When the process was completed a few minutes later all trace of the wound had been removed, save for the fine hairs which had been burned away. Even those would return quickly, once the follicles had a chance to develop. It was a very neat piece of work and judging by the pleased expression on the doctors face, she was pleased with it.

“How do you feel m’lady?” Cristeta asked, casting a sidelong look at Rene. The soldier arched an eyebrow at her but she turned away and flushed slightly. Solae lifted her arm and moved it experimentally.

“Good as new,” she said with a smile. The doctor looked pleased with the praise and looked up at Ten who nodded his approval before she began packing away her instruments.

“Now my lady,” Ten went on smoothly, “shall we discuss what further service I can be to the house of Falia over dinner?”

The dining room was, if anything, more splendid than the library, though here too the expression of wealth was in simple good taste rather than gaudy extravagance. The same tasteful wood flooring had been continued but it rose to a small dais in the center upon which sat a large linen draped table with three chairs spaced around it so that the open side was to a large display of brightly aquatic fish. The water that held them hung in the air, suspended by projected force fields. Creatures that looked like tiny rays with long vanes of silver and gold flitted through the water curvetting and darting in time to some internal logic that escaped the watching humans. The table itself was laid with a variety of dishes, ranging from roasted meat of unfamiliar source, to candied nuts and fresh fruit. Several crystal pitchers held what appeared to be wines or liqueurs.

“Please be seated,” Ten invited and Rene steeped forward and drew out Solae’s seat allowing her to be seated first as befit the highest ranking person present. Ten seated himself next before Rene took the final seat beside Solae.

“To business then,” Ten said with a smile.

"What brings you to Zatis?" Ten asked pointedly as he served a thick slice of marinated meat to Solae. It was a polite gesture, selecting one of the best cuts with the least amount of spice that might overwhelm a sensitive palate, and a motion that would not have been out of place in the courts. While he was following etiquette it was not because it had become ingrained or there were mindful bystanders. Ten was proper simply because he wished to be in the current company. Regardless of how much his guests might doubt his intentions, he genuinely was interested in at least the marquise seated next to him, and would rather be her ally than a disliked acquaintance.

"Thank you," Solae said before hesitating a moment. Trusting Ten was a high risk, the very embodiment of danger, but had the most potential for guaranteeing their success out of everyone they had met. This self-proclaimed criminal had more resources at his disposal than all the individuals they had talked to on New Concordia combined. That he had utilized this power to save rather than crush them underfoot she took as a positive sign. "We came here for the PEA."

"The PEA?" Ten asked with raised brows and mild surprise. As he settled back into his chair and churned over the notion in his thoughts he nodded. With careful precision he began to slice into a starchy orange vegetable that had been grilled with a light char blackening its edges. It was one of the many fragrant healthier choices available for their meal. "You wish to reach someone in another sector, I presume, for assistance?"

"Duke Tan has started a rebellion and has put out a bounty, almost certainly because he can not function a PEA without me. It is a race of sorts," Solae admitted, "to whether he will capture me first to send out his missive or if I will to alert the empress of his treason."

"He always was a prideful idiot," Ten said with a barking laugh and dismissive shake of his head. More to assuage than Rene than Solae he put up his hand as he steadied his emotions quickly. It was more disconcerting that he could shift from jovial chuckles to a stern and serious expression than almost anything else he had done thus far. Even the most well-composed aristocrats may not be able to do so in the blink of eye as he had so effortlessly accomplished. "This does not change anything for me, soldier. I would not give Duke Tan the name of my least-valued asset, much less hand them over. Solae is safe here."

"Do you know Duke Tan personally?" Solae inquired tentatively.

"No, but I hear things and know things by my trade," Ten replied. "The empress has a legitimate claim to the throne and everything that she could need to be successful, yet by every objective measurement she is having difficulty keeping the Stellar Empire intact and at peace. Do you think Duke Tan will stop his coup with this sector? Do you think he is better suited for rule than the empress or, for that matter, anyone on Cappella? He has ambition but he is overestimating himself. Millions, perhaps billions, will die no matter whether he takes you or not, and he will never have the glory of the empress." Confident in his judgment Ten served himself a helping of a fruit with a thin purple outer skin and a bright red juicy interior not unlike native Earth citrus varieties, though this was a touch more sour.

"Can you help us?" Solae asked since they had launched the conversation with an immediate dispensing of small talk.

"I could," Ten answered truthfully, "but I do not know we will have a congruence of methods. What do you intend to do if you are able to send your message to the empress or her representative?"

"You ask that question because you have something in mind?" Solae countered shrewdly.

"Your reputation does not do you justice, my dear, but indeed. I would see you assume your inheritance as soon as possible in exchange for my assistance in getting you to the PEA," he explained as if they were discussing the weather rather than life-and-death political chess. "With you truly the keeper of secrets as your parents were I will feel much relieved, as we will be able to secure them from falling into the wrong hands. I am sure Rene would appreciate that as well as, while I am not privy to the intimate details of the cache, they are likely to shed some light on the past."

Satisfied that he now had his male companion's attention he moved a slice of decadent cake, oozing with chocolate, caramel, and similar confections, to his plate and smiled. "The PEA is under the control of the local diplomatic office. It gives me no pleasure to tell you that they do not have your moral scruples, but this might make you agree with the easiest plan to gain access to the PEA and all the time we need to see if you can make it function."

"You want to kill him, don't you?" Solae ventured candidly.

"I do."

Rene ate carefully, aware that his familiarity with the table etiquette made his aristocratic background painfully obvious. He wondered how Ten would react if he began stuffing his face with the quick efficiency soldiers had learned during the grueling basic training courses where meals were frequently interrupted with drills or trumped up punishments. The thought brought a grin to Rene’s face and Ten’s own smile widened, misinterpreting the expression as bloodlust.

“Why do you want him dead?” Rene asked, taking a sip of wine. There was no point in worrying about being poisoned or otherwise subdued. If Ten intended that he had plenty of options, including simply locking the doors and having sleeping gas pumped into the room. Ten examined his manicure for a moment before responding.

“We have had certain dealings, Octavius Ralch is the son of a minor noble family, a client of the Tan’s and mostly depended on the largess of the Duke and his court. He is not however a favorite son and has, or I should say had, very little in the way of personal resources. For reasons that I didn’t fully understand until now, the Duke appointed him as chief Consul here about 18 months ago,” Tan explained. Solae was nodding along, it stood to reason that the Duke would want to control the PEAs. That was very difficult even for a sector duke, as they were under the control of the Diplomatic corp and the Imperial Fleet, neither of which was particularly vulnerable to pressure from the sector level. The array on Zatis was the sole exception, its unique arrangement meant it was under the control of a consul rather than an ambassador, and consulate positions were appointed by the Sector authorities rather than from Capella. When Tan had began planning his rebellion, one of his first moves was to put one of his flunkies into the position to secure control of the PEA.

“And he used his position to build up a personal fortune?” Solae asked, delicately prodding Ten along.

“Yes, he charges outrageous fees, bribes effectively, for access to information from the PEA, worse yet he sells information about who takes an interest in what. Some of my rivals purchased such information from him. We use encryption of course but just knowing who is sending and receiving can be used if one knows how. Some of my rivals purchased such information from him and some of my people were killed .” There was a hard edge to Ten’s voice, not upset about the bloodshed, but iron certainty that he would not allow such a challenge to his organisation to go unanswered.

“So if the Duke controls the PEA why does he need Solae?” Rene asked, frowning in puzzlement. If the PEA were to be of any use it needed to be able to send as well as receive. Ten laughed in amusement.

“The only authorized individual on the planet was an old rogue from the diplomatic corp named Kampyr Fenn. He and Ralch didn’t get along, partly because Fenn didn’t approve of the corruption that was going on and partly because Ralch is an insufferable ass. My informants tell me that Ralch killed Fenn in an argument a few weeks ago, but is covering it up,” Ten confided with a slight titter that raised the hair on the back of Rene’s neck.

“I suspect that Tan will have a few words for his flunky about that at some point,” Rene observed with considerable understatement. The revelation shone light on the events of the past few weeks and explained more than a few things. Duke Tan had intended that Fenn be captured by Ralch at the moment of revolt, an insurance policy if other attempts, like the one on Solae, failed. Tan must be furious with Ralch and it was unlikely that the minor functionary would survive the Duke’s displeasure.

“I am willing to help you reach your goal,” Ten went on, swirling his own wine languidly.

“I cannot claim it will be easy, Zatis is a dangerous place and Ralch keeps are large retinue of body guards. He has to you see, or the people he is shaking down might take steps…”

"If this man is a thorn in your side like you suggest, you've surely already come up with more than one plan to deal with him and his forces. You wouldn't offer to help if you didn't already have some notion as what would tip the odds in your favor," Solae observed shrewdly. Her words were calm and measured yet pleasant; she was not trying to chastise him but rather put into perspective that her youth did not make her naive.

Ten was no different than an aristocrat in that he did mental calculations with each and every interaction. He would not be a successful businessman if he could not do constant risk assessments and analyses, as well as be able to improvise solutions to urgent issues that could cause a pitfall if not immediately addressed. Solae had no doubt her arrival had been a surprising turn of events. They had not known they would go to Zatis until they had set the course, so unless Ten was harboring precognitive abilities the universe had never seen, the criminal had not anticipated them crossing his path. What she was wagering on was that his cunning mind had been churning as soon as he set eyes upon them. Now that time had passed and they were eating dinner he might have a plot. Perhaps it was imperfect, perhaps it was just invented, but it existed nonetheless.

"Your talent was wasted in that embassy on New Concordia," Ten mused aloud as a small smile alighted on his features. Picking up his fork he dissected a piece of fresh fruit, carefully stabbed it, deposited it in his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and then responded. "While I do have a plan in mind to help you..." he began.

"With all due respect, Ten, it would benefit us both. I do not mean to be rude, but you wouldn't be helping us achieve our goal out of selfless benevolence. You have things to gain as well as you have already explained," Solae boldly pointed out. Rene tensed slightly as if he suspected this might ire their host but he remained unperturbed. If anything he found it amusing that Solae had so much courage, such an intimate understanding the players, and the wisdom to know her candor would not be construed as a threat.

"The plan in mind that would help us all," Ten corrected with a slight polite incline of the head to Solae, "would require both your assistance and cooperation. Until now my resources would not favor a direct assault on Ralch, I believe you could help tip the odds as it were. More specifically I theorize that if Solae assumes her mantle of Marquise Falia to access the local cache we could recruit a few parties that are on the fence as to whether or not to intervene. As for Rene, I believe your expertise as a soldier might more efficiently guide my own assets when we are forced to draw weapons."

"I don't know anything of this cache you keep referencing," Solae said skeptically, "Even if I did, how can you be certain that I will be able to access it? Thus far Duke Tan has prevented the spread of information from New Concordia. Any protocols that might be in place upon the deaths of my parents would not yet be activated because, as far as Zatis is aware, they have not yet been declared dead."

"There is a bank in the medical district that allows you a small safety deposit box that can be accessed with a very rigorous series of tests. Any items in the box are destroyed if the owner dies with no instructions as to the next of kin, and the contents are often destroyed if there is suspected illegal access," Ten explained casually.

"And you think this is where the cache is?" Solae asked with obvious doubt in her voice.

"No, I believe the location of the vault is located in a box there. The boxes have technology that allows them to incinerate the contents- within certain parameters- remotely by the banking staff. They are not the best solution for items of great value, but they are for sensitive information you might want accessed under certain circumstances."

"So it's a method of setting a contingency plan," Solae sighed. It sounded like something her parents might do- especially her father- if they thought they might meet an untimely end and did have this fabled vault. The only reason she was even entertaining the thought this mythical treasure trove of incriminating evidence existed was because Ten was so confidently factual. He wouldn't waste anyone's time, most of all his own, on a mere whim.

"It requires a blood test, both hand prints, a full body scan, and a short questionnaire with rapid fire questions you must answer in ten seconds or less," Ten elaborated. "Needless to say this can not be done with a corpse or easily faked- if at all. To the best of my knowledge it has not been breached since they have started the four-step verification process."

"And you want to go there after we eat?" Solae asked.

"By the empire, no. Zatis is an unusual place. It is extraordinarily busy in the afternoon and at night, when most indulge their vices one way or another, and is less crowded in the early morning hours. I would suggest that we set out shortly before dawn. Almost no one willingly goes out at such an hour so you'll attract the least attention then. The bank operates with discretion so they will not alert Duke Tan or his goons that you were there, if at all. In the interim I recommend you get some rest. I have a spare bedroom for you to share unless you require separate bedchambers. I will have my staff prepare some clothing for both of you as well as a wig if you will wear it. Without your golden hair visible it should be easy to get to the bank without issue. It's what will come after that will be considerably more challenging."

Rene woke in the early hours, though in truth he had done little enough sleeping. Solae shifted her naked form against him and he instinctively tightened his arms around her. They had retired shortly after dinner, both being exhausted and in the rare circumstance of not being in immediate fear for their lives. They were also both very cognisant that their luck was likely to run out in the near future and making love had seemed far more important than sleep to either of them. It was possible, perhaps even probable that Ten was recording them, but in a galaxy where sophisticated video editing could conjure people more realistic than the original models, the value of such footage was minimal. Even in peace time, the fact that a noblewoman might take a common soldier to her bed would hardly have caused titillation, much less been cause for blackmail. Given the fact Solae wasn’t yet married, it wouldn’t attract enough attention to make it worth the effort.

“Time to wake up?” Solae asked sleepily, roused by the pressure of her lovers arms around her body. A soft musical chime sounded as the alarm they had set to wake them cycled on for a moment, detected their wakefulness and disengaged. Waking before an alarm was a trick that most Marines mastered early on, afterall it was better to be awake before a segment kicked you awake for a watch.

“I’m afraid so,” Rene told her leaning down to kiss her lips lingeringly. They hadn’t made any detailed plans last night, agreeing that there was little to be gained by speculation until they knew what was in the Falia vault. Judging by the fact they had already been ambushed once, even getting that far was likely to be a good deal more complicated and a good deal more dangerous than it sounded. The room, or rooms more accurately, they had been given, were luxuriously appointed. There was a bedchamber, a bath and a general purpose room that seemed to combine closet and communication center that opened raidally of a central sitting room paved in cool stone tiles. Several plants, expensive ultra realistic synthetics, rather than the real thing, were artfully arranged to give the impression of a garden, despite the fact it was completely in doors.

Reluctantly, Rene climbed out of bed stepped into the discrete refresher unit, the water ran hot over his naked body for several long minutes, the warmth easing his muscles and enhancing the sense of well being that suffused him following a night in Solae’s arms. By the time he emerged from the refresher Solae was up, sitting naked on the edge of the bed watching him with a smile as he emerged. He offered her a courtly bow and then swept her up into his arms, ignoring her squeal of mock protest as his damp body touched hers. He kissed her lingeringly for a long moment, stealing an intimacy even though they knew that they had no time to indulge it. Reluctantly he allowed her to step into the shower and turned to his own duties.

As per the discussion last night, Rene’s clothing was already laid out for him. Ten had provided a suit of expensive black and gray silk, the kind which was currently in vouge with the type of high end security a noble might keep on retainer for conducting business in dangerous regions. It was stylish, but the weave was reinforced with carbon fibre and discrete ceramic plates. It wasn’t armor per se, but it provided a man a modicum of protection and more importantly gave Rene an excuse to stay close to Solae as she played the part of a minor noble woman. He pulled it on carefully surprised to find that it had been tailored to fit him, possibly from scans made by concealed electronics in the building. A pistol had been provided, a civilian variant of the standard marine side arm. With mechanical reflex he snapped open the action and checked the load, thumbing one of the plasma cartigges free and replacing it at the bottom of the clip before tucking the pistol into the concealed shoulder holster. A pair of reloads balanced the weight in the right inside coat pocket, but if he needed them things would have already gone badly wrong.

By the time he had finished dressing Solae was emerging from the refresher. He turned to face her with a wry smile. He supposed private security was a step up in the world from a marine private.

“Well?” he joked, “How do I look?”