[IC] Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

[Syrenrei]

"It wasn't what I expected," Solae admitted aloud as she sank into the passenger seat of the vehicle. The marquise fished the two data sticks out of her bag as well as the device she had brought but not yet had a chance to use. She plugged in the first of the pair of information loaded objects and started the de-compression process on her compact computer. The car's system was much more sophisticated and could run the program faster but she did not trust it. Until they saw precisely what was in her haul from the vault she was reluctant to upload it anywhere that could be compromised. Solae was uncertain if torching or exploding the vehicle could sufficiently destroy all the evidence beyond retrieval. Modern technology made it increasingly difficult to keep secrets from falling into the wrong hands. The precautions taken by the Falias might have been considered unnecessary bordering on paranoid centuries ago but now they were merely practical solutions.

"It's not just documents," she finally said to begin her explanation. "Going in that's what I thought it would be from what little I knew. It was more like a museum to corruption, greed, and excess. I barely had a chance to look around and I saw proof that would destroy reputations and rip apart esteemed families joined by marriage. We both have seen and experienced how the nobility is not as virtuous, as faithful, as moral as they feign they are, but to glimpse tangible validation... it's frightening." She stared out the window as they whirled by drab buildings intermixed with garish attempts to lure in the freshly rich. A tall hologram pranced above a club advertising the latest in Zatis entertainment. From the way the woman was dressed she doubted it was an award-winning theatre production.

Silence fell between the lovers for several minutes. Rene was content to let her take her time mulling over her thoughts as he guided them along their course to a distant edge of the dome. Absently Solae removed the first data stick, threw it into her back, and inserted the second into her device. She didn't mean to keep anything from the noble-born soldier but there were topics that were difficult to broach even to oneself. While she could dismiss and try to forget the truth that haunted her from the underground room, such a feat would be impossible once she gave voice to its existence, as speaking aloud gave a potency to what dwelt purely in the mind.

"Genetic material," she said quietly. "Once of my ancestors was allegedly storing it in case there was some sort of catastrophe. But it's not that simple, is it?" Solae queried without pausing for his speculation. "I can't tell you with absolute confidence that every Falia that walked into that vault or any of the others did not bring out with them the means to make a human being from people dead for countless years. The implications... I'm not the first woman heir. What if my great, great grandmother took it upon herself to bear a child of a war hero and cousin to the imperial line? What if my own mother did not use my father when she decided to try to conceive? We both know that it's not as organically done as with the common folk. I don't have any reason to believe I'm not my father's but I never performed a paternity test."

For now she would not dwell on the prospect of cloning. This was less likely to have gone undiscovered given the imperfect science behind it. The intro-fertilization was harrowing enough. She could not say for the right price her diplomatic predecessors had not sold one-half of an embryo for a bloodline to which they had no claim. Everything she knew had been called into question. Weeks ago she had been content with her job on New Concordia at the embassy, with the quality of life she enjoyed, with her parents' endorsement of taking her time in choosing a future husband so long as he was of the correct stock. Quietly she mused if they had all along been so permissive because they knew they didn't need to adhere to the specimens their daughter's mate had set aside from his procedure. Wealth unmeasured was at their fingertips and no one was the wiser.

[Penny]

Rene let out a low whistle, his mind reeling at the import of Solae’s words. There were many good reasons, both medical and political for the blanket prohibition on outright cloning. The potentially destabilizing effect of noble families that no longer needed to make alliances through marriage was incalculable. In a matter of a few generations the upper echelons of Imperial society would atrophy into a few increasingly powerful families. The lower level nobility, forever locked out of advancement and faced with a regime of increasingly genetically unstable masters, would naturally seek to redress the scales with violent revolution that might bring on a second Collapse. Even when Emperors had been fools, or insane, they had maintained the ban with ruthless efficiency. What a family with the power of the Falias might do with illicit technologies and their collection of black mail material was an even more staggering thought. Marriages could be broken, lines of decent questioned, wills undone, it would be easy to force other families, especially the middling ones, to their will. If they had been slicing DNA into their line a little at a time, they might one day claim a tie to the Imperial line. It wasn’t inconceivable that their might be a Falia Emperor or Empress one day. Rene looked over at the woman that he loved. She looked fragile, shocked, shattered. He reached over and took her hand in his.

“You are still you,” he told her gently, lifting her hand and pressing it to his lips.

“You are still you,” he repeated, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. Neither of them were their parents or their families or even the Steallar Empire. They were just two people who loved each other. Rene was silent for a long moment, the closeness of his body conveying the fact that this knowledge changed nothing more eloquently than any words could have done.

[Syrenrei]

"This changes everything, doesn't it?" she asked softly. Solae hadn't been brave enough to look through the names of the individuals for which there were genetic samples. The marquise knew that no one would have bothered with sophisticated equipment and the upkeep of medical material unless it was worthy of such effort. Some part of herself felt it was safer, that her ignorance would shield her from exponentially more emotional pain, if she didn't know the precise extent of the vault's reach. Traditionally when a nobleman or woman died such pieces of themselves were destroyed. That didn't mean many wouldn't prefer to skirt this moral obligation. During times of conflict many heirs to prestigious lineages died without a child to carry on their pure bloodline, or someone fell ill before they had a chance to conceive with their suitor, or they could not quite get permission for more offspring but wanted more descendants.

It was societal pressure that kept this ethical gray area from being explored. Dukes and duchesses, who were held in the highest regard unless they staged a coup like Duke Tan, would shun anyone who greedily tried to have an entire brood rather than the more acceptable one to four children. There would be whispers about deranged, desperate parents if they volunteered an egg from their deceased daughter to a surrogate- and they would find nearly impossible to find anyone willing to concede their sperm for such a ghoulish affair. The aristocracy found it tasteful by and large; however, this did not make it any less powerful. If Solae truly had any hidden ancestors of high stature she could be elevated by virtue of her pedigree and innocence relative these machinations.

With a sigh she rested her head against Rene's shoulder and tried to put it out of her mind. None of it mattered if she did not find a way to survive Zatis. It was comforting that her fiance thought no less of her but his opinion would not cure their situation. This planet was hostile to them now that the bounty had been broadcasted. There were few worse places to be than on a world filled with criminals and mercenaries that unabashedly worshiped the coin. Only extortion and threats might make them stand down or consider shifting their loyalties.

The device let out a soft ding to alert it had finished decompressing and decrypting all the data that had been recently uploaded. Rather than move from where she was curled up in her seat as close to her soldier paramour as was humanly possible, Solae gently lifted the screen and pulled it closer. The AI had found records relating to almost three-quarters of the names on her list. This ought not to have been surprising but it was a pleasant turn of events all the same. Most of the people who had been on this more distant colony came from a long line of, as some of her ancient stories called them, 'ne'er do wells.' What ones for which there were no scandalous secrets they were either exceedingly clever or relatively new to the city.

Scanning the list there was quite an array of damning evidence, not the least of which was a man whom had decided to forego the proverbial snip- some found it emasculating and refused on principal- and fathered an illegitimate son with a married woman. "I always children of my own," she mused aloud, "which my mother found surprisingly maternal since I think for her I was more something she did out of obligation. She loved me, more fiercely than she might have after the miscarriages, but I never got the sense she dreamed of having a baby, that it was a fulfillment of need she had herself. I was worried that the empress might deny us when we get back to the central planets because you are still a marine. Now I'm not sure she'll discover something infinitely more appalling in my history. To have all this information on the underbelly of the empire the Falias had to have met at least a few. What if I've got as many skeletons in my closet as Ten?" she worried.

It was unlikely. Solae was visually very similar to her mother, a woman who also had unnaturally golden hair, and some selective edits had probably been made to the embryo that became the linguist to carry on this preferred trait. If her father or one of her grandparents had been compromised the temptation would have been to meddle with the acclaimed, accomplished, and revered rather than the dredges that had been exiled. Because she didn't know with certainty one way or another the marquise couldn't help but fear the worst irrationally.

[Penny]

“Solae, it changes nothing,” Rene assured her.

“You are the Marquessa Falia, whatever is in those genetic records it dosen’t change who you are. A wonderful, brave, noble, woman,” he told her, squeezing her tight.

“When this mess is over, we will deal with whatever is in the vaults, but whatever is there hasn’t been discovered by Imperial Intelligence yet, so either it is hidden so well that it is unlikely to be found, or not shocking enough to shake the pillars of creation.”

The air car began to bank as it approached the far side of the dome and the navigation unit blinked querying Rene for a destination. Touching the controls he turned them back over the city in a slow graceful curve.

“Speaking of which, while you were in the vault we found out that Duke Tan’s troops have reinforced Ralch and his mercenaries at the PEA. While it sounds bad, I think if we can move quickly we might be able to turn it to our advantage.” Rene was far from certain his plan would succeed but it was the only thing he could think of that might give them a chance..

“I think our friend the Duke is probably at the end of his patience with Ralch, and he is probably smart enough to know it,” Rene explained. While Solae had been in the vault he had made some preliminary arrangements with Ten, though he had no intention of taking Solae to any facility controlled by the kingpin until she had a chance to sort through her data and destroy anything that might prove compromising.

“What we need is someone who has had dealings with Ralch, enough for Ralch to take them seriously, but not friendly enough that anyone would question it if they sold him out,” Rene explained. For this to work they were going to have to play things very carefully, and get rather lucky as well, but the mistrust between Ralch and the Duke was the best weapon they had. Ten had made it clear that he didn’t have enough troops simply to storm the PEA compound, and even if he did, there was every chance the Dukes troops would choose to destroy it rather than let it fall into Solae’s hands.

“I know it's pretty vague,” Rene apologised, “but if we can find just the right person, we might be able to get Ralch’s men shooting at the Dukes, and slip in during the confusion.”

[Syrenrei]

Solae remained somewhat unconvinced it changed nothing but she mentally conceded his point that this revelation did not shake the 'pillars of creation.' Imperial Intelligence would almost certainly never find the vault and even if they did she doubted they would gain entry and access to the goods stored therein. The security system was was remarkably sophisticated and had numerous contingencies is place. If it so much as suspected a breach was imminent protocol would mandate it self-destruct. She could only imagine what the vault hidden close to Capella might contain; proximity to the center of the empire suggested it had the most spectacular of secrets and the most demanding authentication process to preserve the integrity of its exclusivity. Perhaps the contents of that vault would be earth-shattering for more than just the Falia heir.

"I'm not certain how my data can help us," she admitted with a frown. "Everything is sorted into a folder by the names that Ten gave us," she further elaborated with a discouraged sigh, "and it's only the records relating to that individual. It could be something about their father, about them, about a cousin, but it's not a complete snapshot of their relationships, only the one or ones that are worthy of having information collected. Take this one for example," Solae said as she flipped through scrolling text with her forefinger, "The data on him is about how his mother smuggled illicit drugs for her husband's rival."

Leaning back in her seat she stared out the window in contemplation. "I think the plan could work in our favor but I think the person you ought to be soliciting for advice is Ten, not me or what was ripped from the computer. Before we can hope to apply what is in the archives we'd need a bead on something more current, something that a criminal mastermind might have observed more recently. I'm sure there is an appropriate match to what you need, but any social tension or distrust from ten years ago might be irrelevant now," she pointed out. The diplomat couldn't be precise as to the date of the last upload because it had not been anything for which she was searching. Her only goal was to pluck out threads of importance as quickly as possible. The last thought on her might as she descended into the darkness underground was about how quickly they must move. Rene and she did not have the luxury of time anymore.

"Duke Tan doesn't even know the vault exists," she mused aloud as she sat up and furrowed her brows in thought. An pincer attack could turn the forces against each other most effectively but there was another more crude avenue of assault. "If Ten can't shed any light on the correct person we could always release all of it at once," the linguist said with a wave of her hand. "If all of this was disseminated at once and tensions were already high, but none of Duke Tan's men were implicated, they wouldn't make assumptions we were to blame. They would be suspicious about the one person they think they all have in common that is aggravated with them."

"Do you want to look through the data? I'm not sure how much it will help until we have someone to narrow it down to, though," Solae offered as she handed over the device once he had slowed sufficiently to allow the auto-pilot to take over if he so wished. Perhaps her ancestors had meant it to be for the eyes of their descendants only but she trusted Rene implicitly. Whatever she had that was hers was his now as well.

[Penny]

Rene shook his head. He wasn’t the person to make this kind of decision and it felt intrusive to look at the private data so soon after it had come into Solae’s possession.

“Ten did give me a couple of possibilities,” Rene explained. Under normal circumstances the kingpin himself might have been the right man for the job, but his recent antagonism to Ralch meant that the Duke’s flunky was unlikely to trust anything that Ten told him, plus it laid him open to retaliation before Imperial Forces could arrive. Ten’s compound was only a few minutes away and the air was growing more cluttered as the afternoon traffic began to increase. Even with his desire to steal a few more minutes with Solae it was time to return to Ten’s compound.

“One was a woman named Alayla Thorne,” Rene told his paramour, his hands tensing sightly on the controls.

“Apparently she control most of the trade in Syshin slaves. I think Ten is a little afraid of her,” Rene went on, his stomach twisting slightly in the memory of the hold of the Bonaventure when they had first captured it. The idea of blackmailing someone involved in such a vile trade was an appealing one, but he was reluctant to let his personal feelings dictate an important tactical choice. He knew that Solae’s feelings were even stronger than his, with her greater familiarity with the aliens.

“Ralch apparently does some business with her,” he added evenly.

“Is there anything in the files that we could use to force her to cooperate?”

It was foolish to think that they could right the wrongs of the Eastern Cross single handedly, but if they were going to put someone in danger of Duke Tan’s retribution, Rene would prefer it was someone who actually deserved it.

[Syrenrei]

Solae did not not hide her disappointment that Rene did not want to so much as glance at the device in question. While she understood the information was hers and hers alone by birthright, as the direct heir of the esteemed Falia lineage, that it even existed only added to her shoulders more weight of responsibility. She had hoped to share with her fiance if only to not be the sole individual carrying this knowledge. It was her mother that was the heir of the last generation. Her father had taken her mother's last name as, despite tradition typically requiring the wife to amend her last name to the husband's, in cases of a difference in stature the more titled surname prevailed. Though there were many secrets hidden from her by both parents she could only imagine after they were wed her father had been made privy to these vaults, that they had shared the burden, and that they were comforted by knowing they were a team.

"Alayla Thorne," the marquise repeated as her fingers slid over the screen with a deepening frown. Initially she had taken a course on the Syshin language for a number of reasons completely unrelated to the race themselves: she had been curious, she relished a challenge, and she wanted to add it to her repertoire as a linguist. Solae had pursued the impossibility of being fluent in every tongue of which she knew. Even with her engineered brilliant intelligence there were inherent limitations; however, there was no reason not to let that stop her from chasing a dream.

Over time she had come to feel sympathetic to the plight of the Syshin. The did not have the superior technology of the empire. They were taller and stronger, but without any way to manufacture arms that were comparable to the blasters of the imperial forces they were doomed to subjugation. There had been only a few failed rebellions against their harsh conditions. That they had been treated so callously was what she personally considered a blight on the image of humanity as a whole.

"It looks like more than a few people have confirmed they know she murdered Gilles Thyes. The Stellar Empire's understanding with Zatis is that they will allow it to govern itself with relative impunity as long as they are allowed spies to report back any threats of importance. Thorne had several personal disagreements with Thyes over the course of a few months, not certain what about, but it culminated in her shooting him six times in the chest and ejecting him out of one of the bio-dome's hatches. Everyone was afraid to testify against her," Solae told her lover with raised eyebrows as she scrolled through the records in question.

"She's also been hiding and sheltering a young woman to which she's taken a fancy," she added. "It might be the sort of vulnerability that, if threatened, would make her take a risk. The young woman is someone she purchased off the human slave market and been grooming to be her partner once she's of age. Poor child never had a choice or a chance, did she?" Solae sighed with a shake of her head. "The girl would be about fourteen years now if this is accurate."

[Penny]

“Well,” Rene said, leaning over to give Solae one more kiss before shaping course for Ten’s compound.

“That sounds like a place to start.”

The townhouse was one of several that Thorne owned. A pyramidal structure with rooftop gardens faced with a black reflective finish. Rene found the effect strikingly ugly but he was beginning to notice the way Zatis wore on him. The omipresent confinement of the Dome, the garish lighting, it made him feel cramped, the thought made him laugh.

“Sir?” the driver of the nondescript delivery van asked. He was a balding heavy-set man in utility coveralls that didn’t quite conceal his over developed muscles. Ten had recommended him as a dependable man, but he seemed to have little to nothing in the way of personality.

“I was just thinking that I have seen starship crashes in hurricanes that I like better than this place,” Rene told him, thinking back to Panopontus.

“Yes sir,” the driver responded, though without context he couldn’t possibly understand what Rene was thinking. Rene returned his attention to the townhouse. A pair of guards stood before the wrought iron gates. They were dressed in a semblance of noble livery of red and green with gold piping around the seems. Thorne obviously styled herself as a noble, though the gaudy livery was more suited to holodramas than the way servants of the noble houses were actually attired. The contrast with their brutally functional carbines made them look even more ridiculous, though it made them no less lethal.

“Rene?” Solae’s voice sounded through the communicator clipped to his lapel. Rene had exchanged his bodyguard disguise for gray battledress of an unfamiliar pattern. Zatis was a center for mercenaries as well as spies and hardware and surplus gear was not hard to comeby.

“I’m here my love,” Rene responded. He wouldn't normally have spoken so informally in public but he didn’t like being seperated from Solae, particularly when she might be in danger. Ten had agreed to set up a meeting between her and Alayla Thorne but he had made it clear that no security, on either side, would be allowed to attend. He also pointed out that the two of them appearing together would make it instantly obvious that they were the pair of wanted fugitives. The reasons might be good, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

“We are about to head to the meeting,” she told him.

“Then we will get started here, good luck,” he replied. The plan was a simple one, but it depended on rather exact timing.

“To you as well, and be careful,” she responded. Rene smiled and closed the link on his communicator. The driver, Sykes, Rene thought his name was, gave him a questioning look.

“Lets get started,” he told the man. Sykes nodded and shifted the truck into gear, trundling up the road toward the townhouse. With most of Zatis’ traffic either pedestrian or by air car, the streets in this upper class area were fairly deserted. Another delivery truck was pulling in to a compound further up the street, but other than that they had the place to themselves. Rene checked his equipment one more time and then opened the door, climbing out onto the running board of the moving vehicle, the bulk of it shielding him from the view of the liveried guards. Sykes slowed to a stop and wound down a window.

“Where do you want it dropped,” he called to the guards in a disinterested voice.

“What are you talking about,” one of the guards snapped irritabley in response. Rene circled the rear of truck and crouched down to peer under the wheels. He could see the polished boots of one man close to the drivers door, while the other remained at his post.

“Look I don’t know what it is I just deliver it to the address on the file,” Sykes wen’t on, warming to his role of underpaid delivery driver. Rene stepped from behind the truck and leveled his modified sub machine gun. The gate guard’s mouth dropped open in shock as Rene squeezed the trigger. The weapon spat out a half dozen stun needles in the space of a heartbeat with a sound like a monstrous insect beating its wings. They stippled the chest of the guard and he dropped to the ground spasming uncontrollably. The guard by cab tried to swing his gun up but Sykes kicked open the door, smashing the man to the floor and sending the carbine clattering across the street. Rene shot him twice in the chest before he could rise.

“Clear!” Rene called and sprinted towards the gate. It was locked but the intricate wrought iron wasn’t difficult to climb and Rene boosted himself up and over in a few seconds. Behind him Sykes swung the unconscious bodies of the guards into the truck, one of the carbines laying across the driver's seat. It was possible that no one had seen the brief attack, but speed rather than stealth were the key to getting this done.

Beyond the gate lay a narrow strip of ornamental gardens, predominantly phosphorescent fungi of some sort. Rene darted to the door and tried it. Unsurprisingly it was locked and he pulled a small breeching charge from his equipment belt, fastened it to the lock plate and flattened himself to the wall.

“Fire in the hole,” he called, a useless reflex seeing as he was on his own, and thumbed the detonator. The charge went of with a sharp crack and the door bounced open as it recoiled off the frame. Beyond the door lay an elegant marble floored foyer the center piece of which was a grand stair case with a carved banister. Paintings and other items had been knocked to the ground by the blast and a pair of ceramic vases were shatted on the floor, scattering their burden of dirt and flowers across the shining marble. A plump woman gaped at him in shock, Rene suspected from her black and white clothing she was a servant.

“Where is the girl!” he snarled, pointing the sub machine gun at her. She gaped in terror and he waggled the barrel of the gun in emphasis.

“The girl, where is she!” Rene demanded.

“Sec.. second floor,” the woman stammered pointing up the stairs. Rene shot her once in the chest. He regretted the necessity, but he had bought a non lethal weapon for this very purpose. Clearing a building was a tricky business under the best of circumstances, and for a single gunman, there was less than no margin for error. Marble chips exploded from the floor beside him as a shirtless man carrying an automatic carbine burst from a door on the upper level and opened fire. The panicked fire shattered a cabinet and sprayed Rene with fragments of glass and shattered timber, wreathing the upper story with the smoky discharge of burning propellent. Rene pivoted smoothly as he sank to one knee before stuttering a short burst into the gunman. The thug convulsed spastically and tumbled over the ballistrating, falling to the marble floor with a crack of breaking bones. The body continued to twitch spasmodically as the stunner needles discharged the remainder of their energy.

Rene let out a breath as his hands mechanical stripped the magazine and dropped it to the floor, replacing it with a fresh one with quick economy of motion. Pushing himself to his feet, he raced up the stairs and started pulling open doors. A fire alarm began to whine as the vapors from the breaching charge reached the sensors inside the house. The third door he opened revealed a large hall like room. The floors were padded with soft foam mats and a variety of equipment put him in mind of gymnasium. The initial impression was somewhat belied by various other stations scattered along the walls, a formal dinner setting, a reader, a large four posted bed with a screen displaying pornography. At the rear of the room two figures stood. One was a teenage girl in a tan one piece sleeveless leotard, her tear streaked face was heart stoppingly lovely, as close as nature could come to the the sculpted perfection of the aristocracy. Red welts lined her arms and probably continued beneath her clothing, older injuries were black and blue discolorations against her pale skin. She cowered in the corner with her hands up toward the other figure, as though to ward off further blows. The second man was tall and almost skeletally thin, he was completely hairless and dressed in an expensive tunic of natural leather. He held a switch in his hand, and glared at Rene with the hatred of a balked predatory in his eyes. He had obviously heard the gunfire, but seemed to have a natural arrogance that prevented him from associating the sound with any danger to himself.

“What is the meaning of this,” he snapped in a surprisingly nasal voice, taking a threatening step towards Rene.

“Mistress Thorne will have you flayed alive for this,” the man, or maybe a woman, the timbre of the voice made it hard to be sure without the usual visual cues, snarled raising the switch and touching a control on the handle of the weapon. Powerful electrical currents sparked at the tip of the switch, designed to inflict pain without leaving obvious damage. The gesture was evidently intended to be intimidating, though what the bald figure intended to accomplish against an armed man more than ten meters away Rene couldn’t begin to guess.

“Friend, I have whole star systems after me, Miss Thorne will have to wait her turn,” Rene replied, giving the figure another second to step clear before he opened fire. Stunner needles struck the figure in the chest and arms, throwing them to the floor in a spasming heap and sending the switch clattering to the padded floor. The girl screamed and hunched in her corner as Rene slung the sub machine gun on its patrol strap, the muzzle shimmering slightly from the heat of rapid fire. He crossed to the girl and knelt down beside her though she cringed away from him in fear.

“It’s all right,” he told her in what he hoped was a comforting tone, “It is going to be all right.”

Rene helped the girl to her feet but she pulled free and rushed to where the neural switch lay. Picking it up with both hands she began to thrash her unconscious instructor.

“Solae,” Rene said, activating his communicator. He lifted a small camera and beamed several seconds of video to his paramor. Proof, if Thorne needed it, that they had her slave. Rene winced as the switch slashed a bloody gash atop the fallen jailors bald head.

“We have the girl.”

[Syrenrei]

"Ma'am, we're here," the driver informed Solae as the vehicle glided to a stop in front of an unassuming building. Protocol for this sort of rendezvous necessitated it being exclusively private, with no armed entourage or personnel of any kind allowed in the room, but neither party was expected to arrive alone. Each woman had a driver and a singular attendant who was to wait outside. Ten had been insistent on making certain both escorts be veterans of his service. While he could not accompany her, and neither could Rene, the least he do was ensure that there were two individuals that could extract the marquise or die trying if the negotiations soured. He was quite aware that the noblewoman was both his ticket to ensuring his success in the future and someone so dear to her soldier companion he'd be summarily executed should she be seriously harmed.

The non-descript property was easy to overlook given the gaudy and garish surrounding businesses. According to Ten this was the site of a 'pleasure club' that was run by an associate of Thorne. Even on Zatis it was uncouth to advertise the erotic services of the exotic Syshin. It had been explained to a horrified Solae that Thorne kept only a few members of the subjugated race and sold the rest as slaves to other interested parties, such as this one, which is why she was able to levy a favor for its closure. It was as close to a neutral premises as they would be able to coordinate with such urgency. Her stomach churned at the thought of what went on behind the drab gray walls. On New Concordia she had not imagined this level of exploitation of the species.

"We'll wait outside for you," her 'attendant' confirmed aloud. Both were women as Ten thought that was what Thorne would expect and would find least suspicious. He had not explicitly divulged the background of either, but the linguist strongly suspected they were both ex-soldiers given the way they handled themselves, and because he alluded to the fact that many of the well-trained mercenaries in his employ had served in the military. In its own way it was comforting. They were not Rene, that she knew, but some of their mannerisms were similar and that put her at ease. They had the same strong aura, the same assertive posture, the same succinct way of speaking.

"I'm ready," she declared to the driver. The woman in question shifted the vehicle into idling, circled around, and calmly opened the door for Solae.

The earlier disguise had been discarded and replaced. She, Rene, and Ten had elected to err on the side of caution since the other costume had been flagged and her doppelganger apprehended. Her new wig was a dark honeyed blonde that was in line with current dye trends and styled to fashionable shoulder length. Brown colored contacts concealed her natural blue irises and the dress from earlier in the day was exchanged with a modern version of the skirted suit. She wasn't sure if Rene was more disappointed he wouldn't see her stay in the shapely gown he had chosen or relieved that she'd be attired more modestly professional while out of his sight.

Not wanting to waste any time she rose from her seat and strode confidently to the entrance. The door to the establishment slid open automatically, granting her access without the need for servants, none of which were permitted to be in proximity to the clandestine meeting. Her heels clicked on the pure marble flooring. It was revolting how much decadence there was now that she was inside. Gilded portraits of Syshin in extraordinary poses decorated the small foyer. No expense had been spared yet freedom had been robbed of these gentle, kind, misunderstood people. The profit that must be made here to be able to such afford flawless stone must be significant yet no Syshin would ever see the wealth. She was willing to wager that their quarters were little more than austere cages.

Alayla Thorne was not nearly as physically imposing as her reputation might lead others to believe. Her hair was copper red and pulled into a formal bun at the nape of her neck, creating a severe look with her angular features, but Solae could discern even seated she was shorter than average. The slave trader was adorned in ordinary black slacks but her top was of a slick, shiny material accented with dyed animal skin that left portions of her torso exposed almost scandalously. While Ten had suggested his fellow criminal dabbled deeply in illicit activities, not the least of which was 'tasting the goods,' the marquise had to stifle an expression of disgust. Inwardly she had hoped this was hyperbolic speculation. Apparently it was not.

"Ms. Thorne," Solae greeted coolly without any warmth in her voice.

"Ms. Pruhl," the other woman acknowledged her fictitious identity with a curt nod.

"I know you are quite busy, so I will try to be as brief as possible," Solae said as she lowered herself into an upholstered chair opposite Thorne. The room around them was dimly lit with the surrounding furniture nothing more than dark shadows in her peripheral vision. One long stage glittered demurely as it stretched from the darkness to the front of the establishment. Little niches with drawn velvet curtains suggested intimate encounters could be indulged for a price. Crystalline translucent stairs to the left and right led to a second floor. If it had not been a sanctum of debauchery it would have been beautiful to behold.

"I would like you to inform Mr. Ralch that Duke Tan had decided to his liquidate his assets after the recent string of failures," she requested casually, though the way she spoke suggested it more of an order she was giving than a favor she was asking.

After shooting her a mildly incredulous look, Alayla Thorne raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms defensively. She had falsely presumed that this was going to be an entreaty from one entrepreneur to a possible benefactor. Ten had warned Solae ahead of time that as a wealthy merchant of flesh she had a certain level of entitlement, both in respects to respect and what people would give to earn her approval. To have a demand made up her immediately after greeting had turned this into a confrontation instead of a friendly conversation.

"And why would I do that?" she asked haughtily.

"Because I have a certain protege of yours," Solae explained as she crossed her legs languidly. "Taking a young child and overseeing its rearing yourself an undertaking. I can only surmise this is because you wanted to ensure you mold her into someone worthy of succeeding you, but it is both a large risk and investment, is it not? If something were to happen to such a child all your work is lost and without the fruit of your efforts. What would you miss most, I wonder, the promise of a companion or someone to carry on your legacy?"

Some color drained out Thorne's face at the mention of the girl whom she had hidden away, as far as she was aware, from all of Zatis. Precious few people knew of her existence and nearly half of them were deceased. She searched the marquise's face for any obvious signs of deception but found only placid patience. The edges of her lips twitched in fury and anxiety before she managed to regain her ability to speak. "You couldn't possibly," she asserted with a shred of hope it was a bluff.

Solae sighed, as if she was put off by the inconvenience, as she reached for her device. She queued up the video that her fiance had just recently sent, turned the screen to face her captive audience, and played the clip. In those sparse few seconds she could see her adversary scrutinizing the moving images. Once it concluded she allowed herself to frown as she glared at the linguist.

"Who are you?" she challenged.

"Did you start selling Syshin because you had fantasies about them yourself?" Solae asked pointedly.

"What does that have to do with my property?" Thorne replied, outraged, gripping the arms of her chair as if she hoped squeezing them with all her strength might relieve her of this tragic assault on her precious slave.

"Since you asked who I am I thought I was equally free to ask an irrelevant personal question," Solae smiled with a dismissive wave of her hand. "All that is relevant at this juncture is that I have the girl and that I require you tell Mr. Ralch of Duke Tan's intentions. I am no friend of the duke's, I can assure you, and I am quite optimistic that Mr. Ralch can put an end to this mutually disadvantageous expansion the duke is quietly planning under his bizarre fabrications. Of course, Mr. Ralch doesn't know me personally, but he does know you enough to trust you. Should you assist me in this matter I will be willing to discuss returning your lovely ward."

For a few moments they simply sat staring at each other. Solae was confident she had intermixed enough truth- such as not being an ally of the New Concordian aristocrat or knowing Ralch personally- that her lies were indistinguishable among the sincerity. Her heart pounded in her chest, however, since she knew how crucial striking this deal was to their plan. Undoubtedly Thorne was trying to make mental calculations herself. It had become apparent that only one topic was on the proverbial table and that the trafficker would have to take a leap of faith or forfeit her most prized possession. There was an inherent danger if Solae's warning was true as well. If Duke Tan invaded the city with his influence she could be edged out by mere association with those he disliked.

"She is unharmed?" Thorne finally inquired with narrowed eyes.

"Except for the injuries she had already sustained when my forces took her into their custody," Solae affirmed. "Contact me after you have spoken with Mr. Ralch and, once I can independently authenticate it, I will advise you where you can locate the girl."

They both stood. No longer was there even the faintest pretense of congeniality. Thorne nodded, turned, and stalked off to an unseen recess where she had both entered and exited the building. Solae went back out the way she came, the front door, and sighed with relief at the sight of her car still idling unscathed. Her attendant edged over the door to open it for her. Only once she was safely resting on the bench seating of the luxury vehicle did she feel the tension leave her muscles. Everything had gone exactly as she hoped but they were yet free. The PEA had been a distant dream but it drew ever closer. Complications and contingencies between her and the beacon of the Stellar Empire felt increasingly inconsequential with each step she took.

Solae activated her communicator, a small bead on a charm bracelet, the latest in technological achievements that paid homage to courtly aesthetics. "It was a success. Thorne is reaching out to Ralch. Is Mia ready?"

[Penny]

“Yes Mistress Solae,” Mia chimed in. Rene started slightly, unaware that the AI had been listening in to the communication circuit. The communication was audio and the girl looked up from beating her unconcious tormentor at the sound.

“If you and Sir Rene are ready, I shall begin the transmission,” the computer purred.

“Go ahead,” Solae responded and Rene gave his affirmation as well. Under normal circumstances there would be no way even an expensive AI like Mia could break military grade encryption. Fortunately Zatis did not possess a governmentally controlled satellite constellation and Duke Tan’s forces were forced to rely on the commercial system. Mia was more than capable of commandeering one and using it to route a signal so that the receivers inside Ralch’s compound would see it as originating from a familiar source. Furthermore, the wide variety of voice settings that came with Mia’s software, plus the voice prints she had picked up over the years, made it almost disturbingly easy for her to match the voice of the communications officer of the Decameron, whose transmissions they had been able to intercept passing through the satellite. A trained signals intelligence officer who was watching for it might still have spotted the ruse, but any spooks the Duke had bought would be on the Decameron itself, not in the compound where the transmission was received.

“Are you a knight?” the girl asked curiously. Rene glanced down at her to uneasily notice she was still holding the neural switch. Her tormentor had a dozen burns across his face and his bald pate, that would require medical attention when he awoke. The wise move may have been to shoot her and take the switch away, but Rene found he didn’t have the stomach to stun a fourteen year old girl, even if it made tactical sense. If she hit him with that whip though, his opinion might change.

“A knight?” he asked, somewhat perplexed by the question for a moment.

“The lady on the communicator called you Sir Rene, and you look like an aristocrat,” the girl observed. Rene nodded in understanding, the girl must have had some education in history and seen enough holograms to recognise the genetically tweaked perfection of his features.

“It is a long story,” he explained, “and we need to get out of here. Mistress Thorne is unlikely to be pleased when she realises that I have rescued you.”

“How very knightly of you,” the girl observed, though her expression remained skeptical.

“Is that what you are doing? Rescuing me?” she spoke with a directness and incisiveness beyond her age. She might be young but she had clearly seen a lot.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, glancing meaningfully at the bruises and welts on her arms and then to her supine tormentor.

“How do I know you aren’t dragging me off someplace worse?” she demanded, though she seemed a little less sure of herself now. Rene patted the receiver of his slung sub machine gun.

“If I wanted to stun you and carry you out of here I could have,” he explained.

“I don't exactly know what we are going to do with you, but I do know that if you want to come back then I will let you come back, and if you don’t want to no one will make you,” Rene explained. He was growing increasingly impatient, as it was certain that Thorne’s first act would be to send men to the townhouse but he wouldn’t get a second chance to make a first impression and that might be important.

“Mistress Thorne will make me come back, she will take me from you and you will die screaming,” the girl said, the resigned matter of fact tone chilling Rene’s blood.

“No one will make you do anything you don’t want to,” Rene repeated, “but if we don’t walk out of here in the next few minutes, I’ll have to shoot my way out.” The girl cocked her head curiously.

“Can you do that?” she asked. Rene smiled a mirthless predatory smile.

“It is one of the things I’m good at,” he admitted, “though it rather depends on how many men she sends.” The girl looked around the training room, shivering with the effort of making what must be a momentous decision.

“Very well Sir Rene,” she said at last. Rene winced and held up his palm.

“Rene is fine, it causes enough confusion as it is,” he told her.

“What should I call you?” he inquired as he turned and led her at a trot down through the townhouse.

“Rosaria,” she told him, glancing in some interest at the dead man who had fallen from the balcony. From the way she regarded him it wasn’t the first corpse she had seen.

A half hour later they arrived at the rendezvous, an unobtrusive warehouse owned by one of Ten’s many front companies. Rene, Rosaria and the driver were all crammed into the front compartment of the delivery van as it pulled to a stop amidst containers of what appeared to be food stuffs. Solae and Ten were already there standing over a lightweight air cushion jeep. Rene opened the cab before the vehicle stopped moving and swept Solae up in his arms, hugging her close. He didn’t enjoy being apart from her under what passed for normal circumstances, and he most especially hated for her to take risk while he wasn’t beside her. It had been necessary but it hadn’t been pleasant. In the back of the jeep lay a variety of gear, including two sets of the gray lightweight body armor that the Duke’s forces wore, or at least a close enough facsimile to defeat casual inspection. Fortunately Duke Tan’s forces, unlike many of the GIDs, included both male and female soldiers, and though Solae was a little short for the role, her sex wouldn’t be a huge detriment. There was climbing gear and web belts loaded with equipment, grenades and other supplies. It didn’t seem like so very much to be taking on a compound filled with soldiers, but if they were lucky they might not need to fire a shot.

“Thank the Stars you are ok,” he whispered to Solae.

[Syrenrei]

"Says the man who was on an assault team of two, and was the only one that breached a building with hostile forces," Solae pointed out gently as she reciprocated the affectionate hug. While she would concede that meeting with Thorne was inherently dangerous, because even Ten could not absolutely guarantee how another criminal might react, she was relatively safe compared to the risks Rene undertook. All she could do was hope and trust that he was capable of overcoming the security detail protecting the girl. They had the element of surprise but were woefully unprepared otherwise. That the soldier only encountered a few lackluster staff members was a relief. The marquise had feared that, though it was exceedingly unlikely, would be housing a small army with her slave.

She deposited a kiss on her paramour's cheek, gave one more tight squeeze of his waist, and then released him before they became more of a spectacle than they already were. Ten was waiting patiently as he reviewed data on his device. Moments before the arrival of the 'knight' he had been gifted the information on his most contentious rival as was promised to him by Solae. After some consideration she had decided he had provided enough aid and proven himself trustworthy enough to merit the disclosures before the ambush. It was a calculated move. She knew that having damning secrets of his self-proclaimed nemesis would whet his appetite to keep pursuing her favor. The broker was an ambitious man. He would not be satisfied with toppling only one competitor. Rosaria was staring at the intimate exchange with open curiosity.

"Who are you?" the youth inquired as she stared at the breathtaking diplomat. Her eyes were narrowed in scrutiny but she did not look either upset nor intimidated, merely perplexed. Rosaria could easily discern that woman was among the aristocracy at least, and Rene's lover, but was puzzled by the intentions and identities of her saviors.

"Please try to refrain divulging more than is necessary," Ten sighed as he lowered his tablet. "If you insist on allowing her the choice to return to Thorne, it's in all our best interest to say as little as possible, at least until you've secured your goal." He was not wrong. Until the girl decided where her liabilities lay it was a huge risk to take her into their trust. She was only fourteen years old, but the teenager was not dim-witted, and she could very well return to her mistress with a treasure true of confidences she had gathered while enjoying their hospitality.

"I'm the mastermind that stole this handsome man's heart," Solae winked as she pulled off her wig. She was still sporting a wig cap under which all her naturally golden hair was well-concealed. To infiltrate the embassy in which the PEA was stationed she had to look as mundane and unremarkable as possible. This necessitated yet another disguise change, this time to a mousy brown wig that was cropped at the chin and smacked of the cold pragmatism that most members of her sex favored when they enlisted. It took very little to situate this new faux mane upon her head.

"Time is of the essence," Ten reminded them.

"If they aren't already firing upon one another they should be soon," Solae agreed, "and there will be more cautious when it begins than after the body count increases. We'll be noticed as not belonging if we wait too long. Will you help me into the body armor?" she asked Rene. He had far more familiarity and would get her into the gear more quickly than if she tried to do it herself.

"Where are you going?" Rosaria asked now that she realized that no one would indulge her desire to know their names.

"Somewhere incredibly dangerous. You'll stay here for now," the marquise explained as Ten gave a look of disapproval. What she was saying in and of itself was not offensive, but he was trying to expedite matters, and he didn't see the point in humoring an adolescent that was irrelevant to their plot at this juncture. "Regardless of what happens you'll be safe," she promised.

"Mistress Thorne will come for me," Rosaria repeated with skepticism about this proclaimed safety.

"Perhaps she will," Solae admitted, "but you probably know that she hid you away from the world. We found you, her secret protege, and stole you away without her knowing we even existed. I am certain Ms. Thorne is furious. Would we have retrieved you if we weren't equally prepared for her retaliation? If we didn't already have the resources to see this through. While we're gone I want you to seriously consider what it is you want. This may be your only chance for many years to make this decision. If you truly wish to follow in Ms. Thorne's footsteps and be her partner, then you can do so, but if you wish to forge your own path, and be your own master, this is your opportunity to seize."

"I'll leave you to it," Ten stated. He was not a voyeur who would stay and watch Solae and Rene change in the empty warehouse. He motioned to Sykes who helped Rosaria back into the delivery van before he joined them both. It was a tight fit but there were not going far; the criminal mastermind had made reservations at a hotel so that he was as well hidden from the erupting violence as was possible. None of them waved good-bye. Quietly the linguist wondered if this parting was so abrupt because none of the departing trio expected them to survive the battle they were about to wade into willingly.

[Penny]

The effect of being left alone in the empty warehouse was sobering. The cavernous space seemed somehow completely inappropriate to the two of them and Rene had to work to suppress a shiver. They had known from the beginning that reaching a PEA alive was a long shot. Frankly their chances of getting off New Concordia had been slim to none and the odds had only grown longer since. There were many things Rene wanted to say, but as Solae had pointed out, now that the plan was in motion there was little time.

“Let me help you,” he told her, helping her out of her regular clothing and into the black body stocking that underlay the lightweight combat armor. Ironically Solae seemed to have few difficulties adjusting the various straps and closures to strap the ceramic composite armor into place. Perhaps years of the tyranny of Imperial fashion gave noblewomen mastery over all types of clothing. He helped her to affix her webbing as well, and was pleased that Ten had been thoughtful enough to leave most of the pouches empty. A full load of tactical gear was well over thirty kilos and there was no need to weigh Solae down. If this took more than an hour they were likely dead or worse.

“You even make that look good,” he joked, feeling a need to lighten the tension, though not succeeding particularly well.

Rene’s own gear was within a few kilos of regulation, belt and pouches laden with grenades, breaching gear, extra ammunition and the half dozen other staples that any marine carried into battle. He picked up the electromagnetic carbine and slung it over his shoulder, then clipped his plasma pistol to his belt. Finally he picked up the light weight automatic he had requested for Solae, the calibre was small to keep the recoil down but the rounds themselves were heavily pressured and armor piercing. He would have prefered Solae not carry a gun at all but he supposed if he was getting wishes granted that wouldn’t be where he started.

“Its lightweight and stabilized,” he told her, flicking the safety catch on and off to demonstrate.

“There are thirty rounds in the magazine and if you need to reload they are in that large pouch at the bottom,” he explained tapping on of the pouches. He gave her a quick tutorial on how to reload, walking her through it twice and watching her do it on her own. When he was satisfied he picked up a second carbine and draped it over her shoulder.

“This is just for show,” he explained to her, it would look very strange indeed for a soldier to be without a long arm, but there was neither time no real need to instruct Solae in its use.

“If things go bad, just drop it,” he advised. It was a lot of information to convey in a few moments but there was no more time left. If things went well, they would be incontact with the Stellar Empire in a matter of hours. If things went badly… well Rene doubted he would live to see it. He put a hand on each of Solae’s shoulders. He didn’t want to have to put her in danger, but only her DNA would allow them to cut this disastrous rebellion short.

“If things go badly or if I … if I get hit, I want you to promise me that you will run, get back to Ten if you can and get far away from here,” he entreated.

[Syrenrei]

"Absolutely not," Solae replied immediately without a moment of hesitation or consideration. While she understood the motivations behind his request she had no illusions about what her conscience would demand. She could not so much as imagine a scenario in which she would willingly flee an injured Rene to save herself. It was selfish and greedy of her not to consider all the people that relied on her warning to the empire, the only action that might halt Duke Tan's violent coup, but there were sacrifices she was incapable of making. Only if her paramour was dead did she have a chance to convince herself to abandon his body for the greater good- assuming she was not overcome with paralyzing emotions. She had lost so much in the past couple weeks that to risk the person that meant the most to her out of everyone was asking too much. Her parents were murdered, her colleagues killed, her closest friend had bled out in front of her eyes, and even a former boyfriend had been dragged from his home before undoubtedly being slaughtered.

"Could you do the same?" she asked him knowing what his answer would be. "What if they do not recognize who I am? What if I was wounded, crawling on the ground, and your only chance at survival was to leave? In the chaos it's possible that either one of us could be hit by a stray bullet... but we are doing this together or not at all. Didn't your battalion have a code about not leaving a soldier behind?"

Without waiting for his rebuttal she turned and walked to the jeep that Ten had given them and climbed into the passenger side. Wearing the armor felt strange. It was not as bulky nor heavy as she had anticipated, but so much of women's fashion incorporated skirts, loose blouses, or exposed skin, that the way the stocking and ceramic armor fitted was bizarre. Many ex-military ladies preferred suits if and when they were discharged. She was beginning to empathize with why- it was a least a step closer to what they had become so accustomed over years of service.

"I'll be sending the message you composed on the Bonaventure for your father," she confirmed once he had joined her in the vehicle. It was one of the topics they spoken very little of since in the last few days. The marquise remained convinced the missive to someone personally invested in their predicament was the best course of action. By virtue of using Rene's family to alert the empress they would also elevate his standing. Whomever was their messenger, so long as they were loyal and took the threat seriously, would be praised so long as the empire did not itself crumble. In light of the revelation about the senior du Quentain there was no one she through more trustworthy or deserving.

"I do have a condition," she insisted solemnly.

The diplomat waited until her lover's full attention was on her. She coyly smiled as he stared on apprehensively and then declared, "After we reach the PEA, send out our warning, and retreat, I want you to put on that suit again. I feel like I haven't had a chance to truly appreciate it," she said with feigned despair. "Of course I still have ambitions to see you in your dress uniform but that is unavailable. Ten has assured me that he will turn us over all the clothing that we've already worn," she added with a mischievous dance in her eyes. She'd let him surmise when she decided this was a matter of paramount importance to discuss.

"It's better for morale to have something to look forward to," she reasoned as she sank back into her seat, unapologetic about her plans for the 'after party' for two. "I may have also arranged for a certain amount of chocolate to be packed in our crates of supplies for when we have to depart Zatis. We won't be able to stay here for too much longer. Still, there's no reason we can't take advantage of our host's hospitality."

[Penny]

Rene allowed himself to smile, taking his mind from the grim reality of what he would do if Solae were hit. He could appreciate her sentiment but the reality was that his death or capture didn’t matter much in the scheme of the things. It was Solae’s DNA that would activate the PEA and if were taken alive the very best she could look forward to was a life of slavery to the Duke and his creatures.

“An after party sounds good,” he replied with a grin that grew more wicked as the moments passed.

“There are a few of those dresses I wouldn’t mind seeing you in… or out of more to the point,” he expanded grinning as he brought the jeep live and lifted them from the warehouse floor. Solae was right, it was considerably better for morale to have something to look forward to.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the compound. The consulate compound was an Imperial installation even if its control on Zatis was somewhat unorthodox. That meant that it was exempt from the crowding that pushed all of the other buildings in the dome together. A broad boulevard surrounded its nine foot wall, leaving clear lanes of fire in case the building needed to be defended. Fortunately the spirit of Zatis could not be completely curbed and their were several tall buildings that offered lines of sight down into the embassy compound. Rene set the jeep down behind one of them, the offices of a communications firm that made its money using the PEA during more stable times. Ten had not been clear as to whether he owned the place, or he was merely able to pressure the owners, but it amounted to the same thing, the doors were unlocked and the alarms were disarmed. The feed from the small overhead drone remained largely unchanged, though Rene noticed that the Dukes troops had taken up more defensible positions, close to their armored personnel carriers. Ralch’s mercenaries appeared to be inside the building and neither side was actively patrolling. Rene grinned and showed the vid screen to Solae, she arched an eyebrow in interrogation.

“They don’t trust each other enough to move around in small groups,” he explained, “our ruse looks to be working.”

“But they aren’t shooting at each other?” she asked. Rene nodded, his smile wolfish and broad.

“Not yet.”

As Ten had promised the building was completely empty and they had no trouble working their way to the fifth floor where a large boardroom with industrial grey carpet provided a view over the wall that surrounded the spire like consulate building. The APC’s squatted amongst the ruins of ornamental gardens, oddly foreshortened for being viewed from above. Rene laid his duffel bag on the conference room table and unzipped it. Inside was an old fashioned slug thrower, similar to the kind most of Ralch’s mercenaries carried and a stubby tube with a dark green band around it and a boxy trigger assembly.

“Ok,” Rene said, delaying the inevitable for one more moment.

“I love you,” he told Solae, gently squeezing her hand before standing and moving to the open window. He laid the rifle down against the sill and flipped open its holographic sights. He laid the glowing ring across the neck of one of the Duke’s grey clad soldiers and then squeezed the trigger. The slug thrower cracked and the soldier pitched forward with a spray of red mist. Rene instantly elevated his angle and put two rounds through one of the windows in which Ralch’s mercenaries were sheltering. Chaos erupted at once as both sides, already jumpy opened fire upon one and other. Plasma bolts blew the windows of the building into chunks of flaming glass and slug throwers tore up the grass. One of the APCs fired its plasma cannon and the scorching cyan blast blew out every widow in on the front side of the building as it filled one of the lower floor rooms with blue fire, kicking up a donut of dust as the vehicle recoiled against the heavy discharge. The shouts and screams of panicked and wounded men echoed weirdly in the void between the wall and the building and fire alarms began to shriek. Rene dropped the rifle and picked up the tube and fitted it to his shoulder, aiming through the primitive iron sights at a spot part way between the second and third floors. The tube let out a dull chunk of pressurized air followed by the whir of cable as the carrier charge sailed across the street, over the wall and into the shattered window. It hit somewhere inside the building and a green light on the tube light up as the fibre optic cable return a solid connection.

“Here we go,” he told Solae, hooking the carrier to his combat armor at the attachment point.

“This isn’t how I prefer you to get into my lap but…” he held out his arms and Solae moved in front of him. He put his arms around her, took a deep breath and jumped from the window. The carrier whired down the zip line with all the speed of Rene’s leap. They raced towards the storm of gunfire, desperately hoping no one took this moment to look up, fortunately the plasma cannon had raised enough dust and debris that the air was already fairly opaque. Spot fires started by small arms added to the concealment and they swept over the outer wall, over the smoky divide lit by flashes of blue and orange fire and into the window. Rene did his best to coil his body around Solae’s but they hit hard, the line parting when the carrier reached the end, powerful motors whipped the line back across the road and out of sight as the two nobles tumbled into a sprawl on the floor of the room, their armor saving them from being cut to pieces on the shattered glass.

“Well,” Rene observed with a gasp as he lay on the floor beside his lover. There was no obvious sign they had been heard, though it would be difficult to tell over the snap of gunfire and the sharp crump of grenades going off.

“So far, so good…”

[Syrenrei]

The room in which they had landed was empty so there was no one to hear Solae groan from the impact. Rene had done all he could to shield her from the blow, but it had still managed to knock the wind out of her and make her body ache. Both male and female nobles were genetically modified for the benefit of improved athleticism, but the Falia's specific modifications for women made her delicate and petite, not enhanced for such situations as these. Later she might purposefully exploit the bruises- although she'd heal quickly enough- as an excuse to have her paramour rub her down with a salve as he had done shortly after they left New Concordia. It was possibly the only positive spin she could put on their necessary yet thoroughly unpleasant landing.

"This place should have its own security AI," the marquise whispered as she tried to quiet her coughing on the smoke through willpower alone. Staging a takeover of a synthetic intelligence had not been part of the plan, but she imagined things would go more smoothly if she could assert her authority over the computer system that governed the basic functions of the building. It would not gain her access to the PEA itself, as that authentication process was self-contained to preserve its integrity, but she'd take any help they could receive. This was the most difficult aspect of their endeavor. If they could survive long enough to send out the message then the first stage of victory would finally be achieved.

Rolling to her side and then to her stomach she pushed herself up off the ground. Broken glass crunched under the benign movement. Had anyone told her a couple weeks ago she'd be part of a hostile takeover of a foreign embassy she would thought them mad. It was amazing how desperate need compelled adaptation and new strength. Before Duke Tan massacred swaths of innocent stellar citizens, she was arguably incapable of concealing herself as a mercenary soldier, much taking initiative in cunning strategic plots against her enemies. Solae had always thought herself more suited for times of peace than war. As an aristocrat she was more merciful and less vindictive than nearly the whole of Armistice. She shook off the disorientation that was created by the fog and their crash arrival before she pressed the button on her communicator. "Mia, can you hear me?"

"Yes, Lady Solae," Mia purred with her predictably inappropriate sultry purr.

"Would it be possible for you to send my identification codes to the AI of this building, the embassy? It might not have a record of my existence- I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't- but could you send that data through a standard encrypted channel?" she asked with pensive excitement. She had learned people vastly underestimated anything that was not human, whether it was another race or species like the Syshin, or because it was a machine. The respect she had for other forms of existence had forged great allies that the coup did not even consider in their boundless arrogance.

"Yes, Lady Solae, of course," was the aggressively sensual response. Solae bit the side of her cheek to keep herself from laughing as she brushed off a few errant chunks of demolished window. "The transmission has been sent. The embassy's AI is named Decimal. I am unable to determine if you have the highest rank in the embassy, Lady Solae, if you wish to assume command."

"Thank you, Mia, we'll be in touch again soon," the marquise promised as she switched off the communicator and turned towards Rene. "We should take advantage before anyone realizes what I am doing. It can't kill anyone for us," she added with a grimace, "but its sensors might give us an idea of what obstacles are in our path."

The PEA itself lay on the top floor. By design it was always on the top floor or the lowest floor underground. In the case of the former, the roof was typically a hazard on which automated weaponry was affixed to deter any would-be saboteurs, but the height also restricted access. Not many individuals were capable of scaling the side of a building without the correct equipment or landing an aircraft on a place that could not bear the weight, heat, and had tactical defense missiles. Generally underground was favored when it was possible. Zatis's domes hindered communication and thus this restricted their options. The embassy they just breached could only use a schematic with an upper level PEA to have a chance of being effective. It was unfortunate they could not have landed on the floor with the PEA but it understandably lacked windows as was protocol.

"Decimal," she called out, "this is Solae Falia. Do you recognize my authority?"

"Yes, Solae Falia," replied a cold, detached baritone that resembled the professional callousness that pervaded the culture of the planet. Ralch could have chosen from a variety of minor cosmetic alternatives, a soothing masculine bass, a tender soprano, or even a capricious child-like imitation. That he had elected this set told her everything she needed to know about his disposition; he was almost certainly as ruthless and heartless as his distant connection that had instigated the bloody rebellion.

"Excellent. Please add my companion, Rene, under my authorization codes." She turned to her lover and nodded once to indicate to him to lead the way. Even with the assistance of Decimal she did not know how to take point, clear a room, deal with threats, or even ask the right questions of their newfound monitor.

[Penny]

Rene pulled himself to his feet, the pain in his chest told him that armor or no armor he would have bruises tomorrow, but that was both cheap at the price and presumed he would still be alive tomorrow. The room they were in appeared to have been a conference room of some kind, though the blast that had shattered the window had also tossed the central table up against the wall. Stationary of various sorts smouldered amidst the wailing firearms and though it was unlikely the fires would spread the smell of burning carpeting itched at Rene’s sinuses.

“Decimal, is there a path to the PEA that is clear of hostiles?” he asked, unslinging his weapon and checking to make sure it was in working order. The building shook with another massive blast as one of the APCs fired its plasma cannon. Ghostly ionic lightning clug to the wiring concealed beneath the plaster walls for a moment and then winked out as the aftershock dissipated. Rene had never been in a true battle before, and most of his fighting had been against poorly trained GIDs, he didn’t relish going up against the Dukes trained forces if it could possibly be avoided.

“There are no hostiles in the building,” the AI responded in its flat emotionless voice. Rene frowned for a moment and then remembered that to Decimal all of the combatants currently shooting each other to pieces had a perfect right to be here. Mia would not have made such a mistake but then the AI was probably more expensive than Decimal and certainly more sensitive to social currents.

“Consider everyone other than Solae and myself a hostile and answer the question,” he restated, moving to the door and inching it open. Beyond the door stretched a long corridor with red and grey carpeting in a standard Imperial pattern. Doorways stood every few meters, all closed as per the automated fire protocol to reduce airflow. Red light blinked intermittently above to provide emergency lighting.

“There are no such pathways sir,” the AI responded unhelpfully. Rene ground his teeth, wishing they had the time and ability to upload Mia into the system.

“The way with fewest then,” he snapped.

“Ascending via stairway delta three will take you past five members of General Bhast’s security detail,” Decimal responded. Rene had never heard of a General Bhast but the Imperial Marines were deliberately kept segregated from the GIDs and sector defense forces, afterall they were supposed to exist to exercise the Empress’s will when local forces proved inadequate or disloyal.

“That is the fewest?” Rene asked in puzzlement.

“They are in front of the door to the PEA control center,” Decimal expanded, “all routes that lead to the PEA pass through that access point.” That made sense to Rene, though it was a tribute to the discipline of these men that they hadn’t abandoned the post when the shooting started.

“Ok,” Rene said gesturing Solae to follow him.

“Guide us and open all doors between here and there,” he instructed as they headed out into the corridor. Rene took the lead sweeping the barrel of his carbine left and right as they moved down the hallways. Decimal might not believe there were any enemies in their path, but it would have been foolish to take the AI at its word, particularly given it hadn’t recognised people shooting at each other might be hostiles without Rene’s prompting.

The AI guided their way by way of turning the red alarm lights blue and it only took a minute to reach the central stairwell. Rene opened the door and recoiled, slamming it shut, as a blast of blue fire leaped up the shaft as a plasma cannon strike shook the building. He heard the click-whir of an anti armor rocket deploying and then a secondary explosion as something was lit up by the breaching charge such weapons carried. Rene suspected one the APCs had been hit. That was good, as it meant that Bhast’s troops weren’t having it all their own way. Rene’s major concern had been that the professionals would mop up the mercenaries too fast to allow them entry, but it seemed Ralch’s men were giving a good accounting for themselves.

“All troops loyal to Superintendent Ralch, lay down your weapons and you will be spared,” an icy female voice boomed from the public address system built into the wall.

“Decimal disable access to all systems for anyone except Solae and myself,” Rene snapped, embarrassed not to have thought of it before. The PA system fell silent instantly as the speaker, General Bhast he presumed was cut off. Rene opened the door again, the stair shaft was smokey and reeked of the actinic discharge of a heavy bore plasma weapon.

“Ok we need to run,” he told Solae and then suited action to words by darting up the spiralling stair way, the muzzle of his weapon scanning the upper coils of the spiral for any enemies. If she had been trained, Solae would have covered the lower approaches, but the plasma blast had probably collapsed any possible access and there was no time to worry about it. They reached the top floor door indicated by Decimals blue dot and Rene pushed it open. Twenty yards down the hallway stood five men in grey battle armor hunkered down behind overturned tables and office machinery that had been toppled to provide improvised barricades.

“Friendlies hold your fire!” Rene shouted, pulling Solae out of the stairway before firing a long burst down into the shaft. The bullets smashed harmlessly into the walls, spraying the interior of the shaft with shattered plastocrete.

“Get ready they are coming!” he screamed and dashed towards the enemy, pulling Solae with him.

“Get down!” one of the soldiers yelled and Rene and Solae threw themselves onto the carpet, a mere handful of meters before the fireteam. A pair of grenades flew over their heads into the shaft and detonated with a hollow crump, the back blast coating them in shattered plaster. Hands seized the pair of them and dragged them over the makeshift barricade depositing them on their rumps within the enemy defensive perimeter.

“How many…” a grizzled looking squad leader, began to ask before his eyes widened, taking in the minute differences between the erzatz armor Ten had provided and his own. He opened his mouth to scream a warning but Rene thrust the barrel of his carbine into the man's stomach and pulled the trigger. The carbine snapping discharge pitched the man over with a spray of ceramic shards as the armor gave way, blood gouted from his lips as he clutched at his chest for a moment before going limp. Rene jumped to his feet and put three rounds into the next closest soldier, catching him in the neck and head with a flash of red. A hatchet faced woman with a heavy automatic weapon swung her weapon to bear, but before she could manage it the sharp whap whap whap of Solae’s pistol made her stagger and fall in a puddle of spreading blood. Rene tried to get a shot off at the next closest opponent but they fellow dove at him driving him to the ground and smashing him back against one of the heavy tables with enough force to make him see stars. The man drove a vicious headbutt towards Rene’s face but the marine dropped his chin so the blow fell on the peak of his helmet rather than against his forehead. Something hot stung his right side but Rene had no time to worry about it. Dropping his carbine he pulled the cutting bar from his belt and thrust it up underneath the bottom flange of the mans ceramic breastplate. The bar whirred as Rene triggered it, alternating diamond cutting chains slicing deep into the mans intestines. Shrieking the soldier grabbed at his stomach, his breastplate preventing him from reaching the wound, not that it would have done him any good. The body shuddered as the final surviving soldier opened fire, shattered ceramic glanced off Rene’s armor along with a spray of blood and vicera but the body was enough of a shield to save his life. With strength borne of adrenaline he pitched the now limp corpse at the gunman and his smoking carbine. The man tried to dodge but the improvised barricades occluded his movements and he was forced to fend off the grizzly missile with his hand. The gesture gave Rene enough time to close the distance, catching him around the waist and driving him to the ground. White hot pain seared up Rene side but he ignored it, shoving the carbine skyward the panicking soldier fired a long burst into the ceiling raining plaster down in a shower that turned the muzzle blasts into bottle shaped domes of light about the barrel until the magazine clicked empty. Rene shoved the weapon aside and aimed a punch at his opponents neck, aiming to shatter the cartilage but the soldier got his arm up in time and deflected the strike while at the same time driving his fist into Rene side. The marine screamed in pain but kept his grip of his opponent his hand found the hilt of his knife and he drove it downward at the soldier beneath him. With speed borne of desperation the trooper caught his wrist and held the knife away from his throat, but even so the bloody diamond tipped blade slipped lower and closer to him with each passing second. There was a flat bang and the blade plunged home, burying itself to the hilt in the mass of veins and arteries just above the man's heart, the ceramic armor no match for the cutting bar, but the man was already dead, a neat hole punched in the side of his head. Solae stood uncertainly with her smoking pistol in her hand and Rene let out a sigh of relief that stabbed pain through his body.

“Rene?” Solae asked, concern in her eyes. He pulled himself to his feet, as best he could, blood soaked the front of his uniform, though the coating of plaster made it appear like he had been iced with sugar, gingerly he touched the lower right section of his breastplate and his hand came away wet with blood where one of the rounds had punched into his body. Now that the adrenaline of combat was passing it began to throb painfully, the armor had done its job, deflecting the shot out and away from his vitals but no armor a man could wear could stop a electro-motive weapon at close range. He could only hope it hadn’t hit anything vital.

“I’m all right,” he told her, ignoring the pain and hoping that it was more or less true. He drew a spray canister from his webbing and popped the plastic seal then sprayed himself by depressing the release with his thumb. The foam felt prickly and cold as it coated the wound, stemming the bleeding and combining antiseptic with localized analgesic. It wouldn’t make the wound any better, but it contained a localized coagulant which would stem the bleeding.

The door behind the barricade was large and armored. It had been finished with an expensive looking wood veneer but the effect had been ruined by gunfire that left long crazed spiderwebs through the synthetic material. As if on cue the door slid open, mangled panels vanishing into the recesses in the wall. Beyond Rene could see the glow of holographic monitors and in the center of the room the crystalline form of the PEA itself. It seemed incredible that it was finally within reach.

[Syrenrei]

As they entered the room she nearly wept out of joy at the sight of the PEA standing proudly before them. Solae had almost become paranoid that when they finally arrived it would be damaged, destroyed, or non-operational, but she could discern from a glance it was both intact and fully functional. The times she had sent messages across the universe for her superiors in the embassy seemed so distant. In the past two weeks she had been a translator, a negotiator, a spy, and now a mercenary out of necessity. While she had been using her linguistic and diplomacy skills, they had been applied in unusual ways, and it had been a far cry from combing through documents to provide a summary and analysis for fellow bureaucrats. A not inconsequential amount of time had been hiding her identity rather than utilizing it to further her goals.

The marquise glided to the display with a smile on her lips. For a brief second her affections for the PEA superseded Rene. This was what they had been working towards. If they could successfully send a missive to the empress then there was hope they might yet be saved from death or a worse fate. She let her fingers glide over a panel on the pedestal directly adjacent to the crystalline structure. There were still struggles ahead of them: they'd have to flee this place, hide, supply the responding imperial forces with useful information, and pray the war succeeded in eradicating the coup, but this was the first step towards a victory. Everything they had done until now built to this penultimate instance. Whether they were heroes or forgotten footnotes in history was decided by the present.

Every PEA was slightly different. The pinnacles of technology were exorbitantly expensive; their materials were rare, costly to refine, and delicate, and their construction was shrouded in secrecy. What little Solae knew was that they could not be mass-manufactured. They were created by master craftsman of which there were only a few dozen in the universe at any given time, all loyalists that were kept close to Capella, and who took oaths to not divulge their practices seriously. Most of the time the quartz was clear as the most exquisite diamond, but some were tinged with a pale aureate shimmer, or kiss of azure at the edges. This particular PEA was one of the latter. The faintest hint of golden yellow was barely visible under the fluorescent lighting.

"Let's get started," she declared before turning to Rene. "You should sit down and rest a moment. They won't be able to breach these doors safely- not when they have orders to keep me alive and a precious PEA right at my fingertips. If your father answers our call and comes charging here looking for you, I don't want to look like a criminally negligent fiancee," the aristocrat gently teased. "Decimal, can you still hear me in this chamber?"

"Yes, Lady Solae," the computer answered succinctly. The AI would not have access to the PEA itself but he could still help keep them safe while she worked her figurative magic. This was the one room in which she could pull rank without challenge. Ralch himself could not initiate or receive a transmission. Only those who the PEA had been programmed to obey had authority in this space, and as the singular entity on the grounds with such a capability, that made this a very bizarre temporary haven. Bhast might not realize her disadvantage but she would quickly.

Sole placed both hands on the console in front of her. It illuminated as it immediately began the authorization process. Per the new regulations and standard protocol it tracked her heartbeat and circulation through the skin as confirmation she was living and not in extreme duress, pricked her fingers for genetic sampling as well as secondary confirmation her blood was not tainted, and a full body scan initiated where she stood. None of this bothered her. The benign lasers that traced over her form and monitored her would grant her precious power; it was a small price to pay.

"Welcome Solae Falia," another voice, distinctly not Decimal's, greeted.

"Please confirm for the resident security system my user status," the marquise requested.

"Solae Falia, Marquise of New Concordia, Diplomatic Attache Rank XIV, is authorized personnel for all Positronic Entanglement Arrays. Please acknowledge," the foreign voice announced serenely in one of the most pleasant tones they had the pleasure of encountering thus far.

"Acknowledged," Decimal briskly replied.

"Decimal, I am taking possession of this PEA, pursuant to Code 20-19(p)," Solae continued on, referring to a very specific outline for conduct in times when the empire was at war or otherwise threatened. The particular quoted section elevated imperial citizens the ability to seize assets if there was imminent danger they would or could fall to enemy combatants. "Barricade the doors and bar all outside entry. Additionally, initiate the self-destruct sequence and advise all lingering hostiles that it has begun. Set a parameter for the self-destruction sequence to be indefinitely halted if Rene and myself leave the building of our own accord without accompaniment. Make the hostiles aware of this as well should they ask."

"Understood," the stoic synthetic existence affirmed.

She knew this would alarm Rene but it was their best chance of getting away alive. Ralch and Bhast wouldn't be able to override her authority unless they miraculously found someone else on the planet that was capable of asserting jurisdiction to the satisfaction of both the PEA and Decimal. If they had such a person they wouldn't have chased Solae across the galaxy. They were willing to risk much to accomplish their dreams of a new government, but she was willing to wager her life that the possibility of losing this holding, the noblewoman that could summon their allies, and some of their elite forces would make them reluctant to call her bluff. Duke Tan stood to lose much more than the golden-haired woman he relentlessly pursued.

"Download current accessible transmissions and initiate new message for Capella," she ordered as she withdrew one hand from the console, pulling out a device and laying it flat upon the smooth metallic podium. There was no external signal that anything was being done other than a low hum as a wireless exchange between the computers commenced. The pinpoints of light within the invaluable stone flickered, swirled, blinked, dashed across the perceivable spectrum, and sparkled more beautifully than any gem the most wealthy of duchesses could obtain. There were lingering theories that the first PEA did serve its intended purpose but was too hideous for production. It was a dubious rumor at best, but it was hard not to notice the aesthetic draw of the esoteric apparatus, which surpassed the most desired maiden of the courts.

[Penny]

“What are you…!” Rene’s objections died on his lips as the logic of the move made itself apparent to him. Threatening to destroy the PEA and Solae, the only means of accessing it, would certainly make both Ralch and Bhast cautious, though possibly for different reasons.

Rene sat heavily fumbling with the catch of his armor and easing the fit. Blood dribbled from the opening in the ceramic and he winced as the pressure came off. The sealant on his skin was rough and lumpy where blood had caused it to dry unevenly. He could feel a faint discomfort when he moved and he reached down and found the edge of a fragment of armor protruding from the sealant. He grit his teeth and pulled, trying to ignore the queasy feeling as it slid free. The sealant hissed as it reacted to the fresh blood flow, closing over the void left by the bloody fragment of ceramic.

He looked up to find Solae watching him. He smiled at her reassuringly. The light from the PEA played up over her face and hair heightening her ethereal beauty for a stunning moment. It would have been breathtaking if he wasn't already having trouble catching his breath.

“It isn’t bad,” he assured her, wishing he could be more certain of that fact. Stomach wounds could be funny, but short of seeing a surgeon or a medi-comp there was little he could do either way. A sudden hammering on the door prevented further conversation, the pitch and clamor increased as frustrated soldiers replaced fists with rifle butts.

“It is still an armored door,” Rene pointed out to no one in particular.

“Maybe they will be the first ones to batter one down by hand,” Solae answered with a smile. Rene grinned and turned back to the door, letting his weapon hang from his gun hand for a moment before raising his voice.

“Attention people attempting to knock down a blast armored door with your hands,” Rene called out. There was an odd reverberation as the buildings PA system broadcast his word. Decimal was not Mia, but he/it could obviously take care of basic anticipatory commands.

“Before you work your way up to breaching charges, please be advised that blowing the door will trigger a discharge of the buildings self destruct system. That will kill you and probably everyone within a block of here,” Rene continued and was gratified with a near instantaneous secession of the noisy hammering.

“The Imperial Technical Survey estimates 95 percent casualties within a two block radius,” Decimal added, helpfully also over the public address system. The AI might be programmed to sound unemotional and distant, but that didn't mean it couldn't understand what its users might require of it.

“I stand corrected, far be it from me to argue with the ITS,” he concluded, glancing back to see Solae still working on the controls. There didn’t seem to be any other way out of the chamber but it still made sense to play for time until Solae's work was complete. There was a real chance that Bhast would rather destroy a priceless PEA rather than allow the Imperial Government to be warned of the coup, but even if she wanted to, bringing down a building this size would take time, even for the heavy weapons mounted on her vehicles.

“Are you about done Mr Quentain?” came an authoritative female voice that could only have belonged to General Bhast herself. There was sudden volley of fire from outside the door, though it was accompanied by no screams or shouts of pain.

“Decimal can you give me video feed for the corridor?” Rene asked in concern.

“The hostiles have destroyed the cameras Sir,” Decimal responded indifferently. Rene frowned, he didn’t know what Bhast might want privacy for, nor could he imagine what she thought she could do without triggering the self destruct but not knowing made him nervous.

“Mr Quentain?” Bhast called again. Rene looked up at Solae who mouthed the words ‘nearly there’ as he fingers flew across the controls, illuminating the room in queer prismatic light.

“It is Private Quentain actually,” Rene called back with forced jocularity, “Mr Quentain is my father.”

“Charming,” Bhast drawled, a dangerous edge of irritation in her voice. She clearly wasn’t a woman who was used to enduring alot of back talk.

“But I am here to discuss terms of surrender,” Bhast continued.

“Oh, well in that case I am willing to accept your surrender on standard terms, you and your men will lay down their weapons and be interned until a court…”

“Your surrender you arrogant son of a bitch!” Bhast roared, her fist hammering against the armored door. Rene suppressed the urge to laugh with some difficulty feeling light headed and shaky. He touched a control on his armor and felt a prick as it dumped stims into his system, clearing his mind and steadying his shaking hand as a cocktail of adrenaline, amphetamines and synthetic stabilizers into his system.

“It has been a while since basic training, but I’m fairly sure ‘don’t surrender’ was one of the lessons,” Rene explained, reaching down to pull the closure on his armor snug and shaking his torso slightly to settle it.

“Don’t be a fool, you think the Empire cares about you? Turn the woman over and we will make you rich enough to buy your own planet!”

“It’s a generous offer, but all I control right now is a transmission room and honestly I’m a little overwhelmed,” Rene responded. Silence fell as Bhast gave up the attempt to subvert Rene. He very much doubted she was giving up entirely, but they both recognized they had reached an impasse. It had only ever been a play for time, but he hoped he had irritated her enough to cloud her judgement, but you couldn’t count on that with a successful career officer. Rene turned and looked back at Solae.

“How are we doing?” he whispered.

[Syrenrei]

"Decimal, I would like you to broadcast the incoming confirmation from the PEA, but nothing more," Solae instructed her synthetic companion with a wink and smile to Rene to indicate that all was well. She knew that Bhast was already frustrated and annoyed after her exchange with the irreverent soldier. Hearing contact had been made with the center of the Stellar Empire might just exacerbate the other woman's mental state and cause her to make a costly mistake. It was their best advantage at the moment. With Rene injured, Solae ill-equipped for combat, and a small army on the either side of the armored door protecting them from harm, making a psychological strike was all they could do to turn the tables in their favor.

"Status on the missive?" she asked the PEA interface knowing the answer.

"Transmission received by Capella designee," the PEA announced in dulcet tones that echoed through the speakers all over the compound. Decimal had perfectly executed his command. Hearing the words reverberate through the building brought more gravity to their situation. This was the point of no return for all of them, from the marquise and her lover, to the rebellion's forces, the usurper of New Concordia who paraded around his palace, even the smattering of allies that the heroic duo had managed to gather over their week-long journey. Regardless of the outcome of this war, it was no longer hidden in the shadows, and the survivors of the coup were destined to be catapulted to fame for their loyalty and efforts.

"Incoming call. Do you wish to accept?" the PEA asked Solae placidly, who was surprised at the nearly instantaneous reply. Decimal had thankfully followed her directions exactly and was not blaring this unusual question at their enemies. She gestured for Rene to stay where he was. Until they knew precisely who was on the other end it was wise for him to stay hidden out of view. Theoretically whomever had access would not be hostile, but she was reluctant to make assumptions after having watched the tragic fallout from Duke Tan's unexpected betrayal.

"Yes, please put them through," the diplomat answered quickly. Because of the nature of the access terminal, which was meant to be used while standing rather than sitting, the visual window was a bust rather than a face-only portrait. As a result of this larger image, she knew the identity of the speaker immediately once it was displayed: Gisella Chastain du Quentain. Her courtly composure helped her to conceal her shock at this development. She ought to have anticipated Rene's stepmother's possible involvement when they reached out, but she sadly had not predicted, much less prepared, for such a confrontation.

"Where is Rene Quentain?" the younger woman demanded.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you at the moment," Solae replied with a congenial smile that she suspected her counterpart found thoroughly infuriating. Evidently her fiance's jovial attitude, albeit forced, was infectious.

"Connect me with your superior, then," Gisella ordered haughtily.

Without hesitation pulled off her wig, her luxurious flaxen golden hair spilling over her shoulders like a decadent curtain, exposing herself as something more than the mercenary disguise she had donned. It was easy to overlook her refined features when they had been covered in smoke and debris from penetrating the embassy, especially when it was digitized and flung over and interstellar channel to a distant edge of the universe. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marquise Solae Falia, heir of the Falia family. Would you connect me to your superior, please?" she asked in an overly sweet tone.

"I don't know why you have involved yourself with Rene," Gisella said after a pronounced pause, "but this blatant attempt to reclaim his inheritance is disgraceful."

"It is no more disgraceful than your belief that anyone would manufacture a coup in order to pursue an inheritance. Let me assure you, Ms. Du Quentain, I have every intention to share all of my wealth with the gentleman in question as we plan to be married as soon as is practical. I sincerely doubt he will find himself wanting for any material possessions, but should he find himself lacking funds, I will discourage him from inventing a devastating threat to our empress's reign," Solae countered easily. "It would be quite ill-advised, would it not, as it would be so easily disproved."

"You would marry him?" Gisella asked incredulously. As far as she was concerned, her stepson was the exiled murderer that compelling evidence and rumor accused him of being. That anyone would defend him and be so proud of an engagement to him, veritably bragging about spoiling him like a kept man, broke through her calm facade.

"Absolutely," Solae affirmed. "You must make certain our warning is sent to the empress," she continued more seriously, her brows knitted together in earnest concern. Their spat and posturing could be resolved at a later date. Time was of the essence- Bhast could devise a way to breach the door or secure their mutual destruction if they tarried indefinitely. "The outer worlds of this sector have already been occupied by Duke Tan's forces. I've ensured that he does not have a way to contact anyone through his PEA, but right now he is consolidating power relatively unchecked."

[Penny]

“I will hear no more of your nonsense,” Gisella snapped with aristocratic pique. She tossed her hair in irritation and glared daggers at Solae.

“You may lay with an untitled murderer if you like but he will never steal my daughters inheritance!” The PEA array went suddenly dark as the distant noblewoman cut the connection. Rene blinked his eyes too stunned and logi with reaction to the meds that were keeping him on his feet. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach as he realised that something had gone wrong though it took his mind a moment to process exactly what it was.

“Stars be cursed… can she really be that stupid?” he gasped. As Solae had intimated, creating a fake rebellion was an insane accusation, something that Gisealla need only mention to Imperial Intelligence to bring down the razored axe of the security services.

There was a snarl of frustration and a thump on the backside of the armored door as Bhast realised that the alarm had been broadcast to Capella. At least she thought so. Solae shot Rene a concerned look. The whole idea of contacting his father had been to avoid alerting any conspirators that Duke Tan might have in the wider galaxy. Should they now try a general broadcast to the diplomatic corp? His mind was glacial and cold, unwilling to rapidly process information as the situation demanded.

“Both of you are dead!” Bhast snapped, “By the stars you will both burn for this!”

Rene didn’t see how that followed, afterall the only hope that Duke Tan had was to get a PEA operational before Imperial forces could destroy him and his conspirators piecemeal. Was Bhast so angry that she would risk that. No. You didn’t get to be a General by letting your temperature rule your actions, no matter how bad things got. Which meant that Bhast’s anger, while real, was also for show. Rene’s eyes widened.

“Decimal give me audio for the corridor,” he snapped.

“I am unable to compl....” the AI voice cut out with a discordant whine.

“Damn it,” Rene whispered casting a wild look back at Solae. Bhast must have sent one of her men to perform a hard reset on the AI, that would only give her a minute or two to act, but a minute could be a lifetime in combat. Rene grabbed a heavy terminal and shoved it sideways with all his strength. The six foot machine moved slowly at first, toppling sideways and jerking momentarily as data cords and power leeds free in a shower of sparks. The heavy machine crashed across the door in a waist high barricade of steel and silicone.

With Decimal’s central processor rebooting, the commands he would have issued were temporarily disabled, that meant that Bhast had enough time to breach if she was quick. Breach and secure Solae before she could assume control of the rebooted system. He checked the load of his rifle before grabbing a second terminal and shoving it over behind the first. It wasn’t much of a barricade for a single man to defend against a determined assault force but he had to buy time for Solae to get out a second message to… to who? The Navy? The Marines? The Diplomatic corp? His mind refused to come down on anything definitively. He could feel the blood running down his leg from where his exertions had torn his wound open momentarily.

“We need to send out an alert to the…” Rene began but before he could finish the PEA lit up again. Rene pivoted to see Solae once again illuminated by the brilliance of the crystalline phosphorescence. A pair of figures appeared, hanging in the air in a full form hologram that used a shockingly high proportion of the PEA’s invaluable transmission bandwidth. The taller figure, at the rear, was a severe looking man with features that bore an obvious resemblance to Rene, though the lines seemed harder and more severe. He was perhaps in his fifties although the only sign of it was a slight touch of silver at his temples. Dark eyes seemed to watch everything at once. Alric Du Quentain wore armor, not the white and gold gilded armor he wore for court affairs, but true battle dress, similar to Rene’s in all respects though far more expensive. In front of him stood a young woman in an expensive dress of white silk. Her eyes were slightly upturned and almond shaped and glinted with a keen intelligence that seemed to pin Rene where he stood. She wore no makeup and though her eyes were pouchy with lack of sleep, she all but burned with vitality. Rene had seen her exactly once before and she was the very last person Rene had expected to see.

“Marquessa Solae Falia,” Mercedez Vilentrae, Empress and monarch of the Stellar Empire, said in a calm controlled voice, “I am pleased to meet you at last.”