[IC] Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

[Syrenrei]

"Your grace," Solae breathed in greeting, just as shocked as Rene at the appearance of arguably the most powerful woman in the known universe. Her parents had never really prepared her for meeting the empress; because they had chosen to raise their child on a world other than Capella, the opportunity was unlikely to arise, and should it ever come to pass they had planned counsel her once the need was apparent. Obviously neither had anticipated their untimely deaths preceding their daughter having such a fortunate encounter. It was far too late to observe proper etiquette. The marquise was disheveled, her lover was bleeding, and both were still wearing their mercenary soldier disguises.

This sudden turn of events brought unbidden tears to the edges of the diplomat's eyes. No matter how her optimistic her fiance was about the recent past, the last week had been a struggle. Solae strongly suspected that they had both been clinging to the last shreds of hope as they strove against impossible odds to make it to the embassy and access the highly guarded communication device. After seeing her closest friend die, hearing second-hand of the deaths of her mother and father, watching her ex-suitor's mansion crumble, nearly being abducted by slavers, almost dying fleeing New Concordia with enemies at their heels, threading a landing through a hurricane, saving Rene when he had been captured, and breaching a building filled with hostile forces, she had started to disbelieve they would succeed. It had been a soft voice in the back of mind warning her to brace for the likelihood of failure. Scraping by as they had could not continue indefinitely.

"I only wish we had met under better circumstances," she said with a bow before shifting her attention briefly to Alric de Quentain, giving him a polite nod of acknowledgment before continuing. The overwhelming surge of relief still choked her words though not sufficiently that it was a social faux pas. Solae was not the first nor would she be the last to be overcome with emotions while in the presence of the empress. "Duke Tan launched a coordinated strike on the imperial stations on New Concordia. As far as I am aware there is no surviving nobility besides myself, and none except Rene," she said with a motion of her hand, "escaped the assault on the Imperial Marine base."

"And he pursues you," Mercedez Vilentrae observed with a shrewd cunning.

"He does," Solae admitted. "A very sizeable bounty has been put on my head but with the stipulation I am returned to him alive. It is our belief that he has secured a PEA but he is unable to operate it without a diplomat of sufficient clearance to grant him access. We've evaded him thus far but I am not sure for how much longer."

"Reinforcements will be dispatched retrieve you," the empress said with an unflappable confidence that made it sound as if were the most simple of operations, "as well as assess the situation more fully. Do you know which planets are currently within Duke Tan's control?" she inquired. Behind her eyes burned a keen intellect that was doing mental calculations of which squadrons could be spared and would be the most effective. Her resources were not as endless as she lead her subjects to believe and, with the civil unrest and coup on the prime world itself, she had to be judicious with whom and how many could be deployed.

"If I may be so bold, your eminence, I would like to make a request," Solae ventured diplomatically serenely. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she was inwardly anxious that at any moment Bhast might begin shooting through Rene's haphazardly created barricade. Not only was time of the essence, their lives were in imminent danger, and she was about to ask a favor of the highest authority she knew. No one, not the most highly esteemed duke, or the most composed handmaiden, would not have some apprehension.

Mercedez Vilentrae raised a single elegantly groomed brow as an indication she may proceed.

"It is my understanding that the program through which one might enter the marines is both to repay Stellar Empire in service and prove one's loyalty. Rene Quentain rescued me from two of Tan's soldiers before he even knew who I was and, despite everything that has been offered to him over the last week, including most recently enough wealth to purchase his own planet, he had been steadfast in his dedication and convictions. Many lesser men would have capitulated long before now, your highness. In light of his valor and fealty, I would ask for your consideration in having his service time lifted or removed, and allow him to be assigned as my personal bodyguard for the time being. I have faith he is uniquely positioned to keep me safe until your agents arrive," she said with a bow at the waist to help emphasize her sincerity.

"That is quite an unusual request," the empress commented slowly as the considered the consequences of agreeing to such a pardon.

"I personally vow that, should you so us such mercy, we will prove ourselves worthy of your generosity. I believe in Mr. Quentain's innocence and will strive to unveil the murderer who yet runs free, I will take Mr. Quentain into my own house rather than impose on his father, and I hope to compel others to oppose Duke Tan and commit themselves to our cause." Solae remained bent at the waist in an almost uncomfortable display of prostration. It was not strictly necessary but it helped to display her fervent desire.

Behind her she could tell that Rene was shell-shocked at her proclamation. Solae had expressed before that she would seek a pardon, to marry him, and to clear his name. Hearing it fall from her lips shortly after her greeting, with the empress in audience, was undoubtedly surreal to the man who had resigned himself to his fate. Again and again he had tried to impart that he had made peace with his exile. Hearing a compelling argument for his reinstatement into society, though absent his title until any official wedding took place, gave even the requestor palpitations. For once things were going right and there was potential for a dazzling, blissful, happy future on the horizon.

[Penny]

The Empress appeared to consider it for a long moment and then her image reached forward to touch something just out of the range of the hologram pickups. Turning her head she spoke a few words to Alric who gave a curt nod and then his lips blured as the privacy mask intervened to protect the speaker from lip reading as well as audio eavesdropping. The communications suite at the Summer House was state of the art in all respects. Mercedez gave the older man a nod and then turned back to face the hologram pick up. Nothing showed on her face to hint at the import of the concealed conversation.

“We have maybe thirty seconds before they breach!” Rene yelled from his improvised cover. The sight of his Father’s face stung him but he couldn’t afford to look for more than a moment. He slapped the visor of his helmet down and turned on the anti-shock filters that were built into the unit, using a squad leader function to engage the same function on Solae’s helmet, even though she wasn’t currently wearing it. The faceplate blanked as a polarizing field altered it to resist the effect of breaching munitions, and the audio pickups began to broadcast a subsonic damping field to protect his hearing. It wasn’t perfect protection against the concussion, flash and disorientation of a breaching grenade but it was what he had to work with.

“I am unwilling to commute Mr Quentain’s term of enlistment,” Mercedez Vilentrae declared flatly, holding up a finger to forestall any objection.

“The question of his guilt or innocence, as well as that of his family affiliation will be revisited at another time. I will, however, promote him to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel and assign him to you as your chief of security and military liaison. As of this moment you are the new Duchess of the Eastern Cross, all rights and privileges formerly assigned to Alexis Tan fall to you, until such time as the situation is resolved.”

The import of the short statement was stunning for both Rene and Solae. Marine officers were not drawn from the same pool of murderers and other miscreants that made up the ranks and were not subject to the same strictures. While the Empress decree forbade Rene from simply resigning his new found commission, his status as a felony in the process of being pardoned for service had been lifted. The rank of Lieutenant Colonel was stratospheric when viewed from his previous lowly position and normally the height of attainment for any officer who was not on a command track. For Solae the implications were even vaster. At a stroke she had been made the pre-eminent noble within the Eastern Cross, the titular liege of all of the lesser nobility and one of the seventeen electors who would convene to determine the Imperial Succession should Mercedez perish without naming an heir.

“I fear, Duchess, that few in your new realm will accept you unquestioningly, but I charge you to defend it as best you can until my forces can reach you,” Mercedez added as though reading Rene’s mind. Of course that didn’t really matter if they were killed or captured within the next few moments.

“Renard,” Alric spoke aloud for the first time since the call had began. Rene whipped his head away from the door for a moment to watch his father's unreadable place.

“I am pleased to hear of your engagement to a worthy woman,” he said with the slightest ghost of Rene’s own easy smile. There was a whir as a sophisticated printer produced a rosette, a diplomatic document that served as the official credentials. It was palm sized and made of dense synthetic crystal. The black and red design indicated it had been issued under the authority of the House of Vilentrae, while a golden circlet ringing the Imperial Sigil showed it had been issued by the Empress herself.

“Is there anything more we can do for you?” Alric asked, a military man recognizing the appalling tactical situation and perhaps as a father concerned for his son.

“Father I…” Rene began and then paused, clear thought forcing its way through the fog of injury and the drugs allowing him to continue functioning through it. He was moving before his mind could have articulated what he was doing, leaping up the stairs three at a time.

“Yes, keep the call running,” he called, grabbing Solae’s helmet and slipping it back on her head, concealing her beautiful face behind the polarized shield.

“Up against the wall,” he yelled, half directing half carrying Solae back down the short steps.

“Mia can you hear me?” he snapped into his helmet.

“Yes Colonel Quentain,” the AI responded in a particularly sultry voice, demonstrating that she had been keeping track of events.

“I need you to take control of my helmet, disengage all external sensors, and reconstruct a simulation from my sensor data,” he commanded. Almost immediately the world went black and then sprang back into wire-frame relief, a computer generated composite of his video recorders and the returns from the LIDAR and RADAR returns the helmet used to peer through smoke and darkness. None of it was real, but the internal compass meant that so long as nothing had changed since he had seen it, the representation was as good as reality.

“I need total exterior sensory deprivation,” Rene told Mia, “radio from Solae only.” All the sounds of the outside world cut off abruptly, the background of humming computers, the clink of metal on metal and the rattle of equipment much more noticeable for their absence. He pressed Solae into a corner, shielding her body with his own. Slinging his carbine he pulled two breaching grenades from his belt. For a moment there was nothing but silence and then the door exploded inwards as Bhast’s breaching charge cut through the armored door. Rene couldn’t hear it but he felt the shock of the blast as well as the rain of debris that pattered across his armored back and shoulders. A heart beat later the breaching grenades went off, bright enough that the actinic discharge was visible at the seam where his helmet joined his throat armor. Though Rene could neither see nor hear it stunner fire poured through the door, aimed at the pair of figures on the PEA dais. The images of Alric and Mercedez were, or course unaffected by the spray of electrical darts, but they fit the mental picture of what the attackers expected to see. Rene leaned back and tossed a breaching grenade through the shattered door and then flicked the other one towards the dais. Both went off within a half second of each other with syncopating booms that he felt through the soles of his feet. Attackers were screaming in confusion and fear but in the silence of helmet Rene merely grabbed hold of Solae and ran through the shattered doors.

“Mia drop the..” the AI anticipated his command by a fraction of a second and his face shield depolarized. The stunned rearguard had dropped his weapon and was clutching at his eyes while the shouts of confusion and the snarl of gunfire filled the PEA chamber. Rene pulled his pistol from his belt with his off hand and shot the disoriented soldier in the chest, the plasma bolt liberating its energy with a subsonic whoomp. The gout of vaporized ceramic and plasteel pitched the unfortunate soldier back into the wall with enough force to crack his spine if he hadn’t been wearing armor.

“I surrender!” Rene heard his father call from the room behind them, doing his best to add to the ruse. Rene pulled the final grenade from his belt, a standard high explosive frag and tossed it back through the doors before leading Solae down the corridor at a sprint. The bomb went off with a crump and was followed by screams of pain. Rene doubted it would kill Bhast but he supposed he had already had enough luck for one day. They turned a corner and pounded into a stairwell that spiraled down towards the ground floor.

“AI system D1124.3 online, system recognizes the authority of Duchess Sola Falia as senior Imperial Official on site. Please instruct.” Decimal’s monotone voice declared as the AI came back online. Bhast’s people had been able to reboot the system, but they couldn’t keep it down forever, the program existed in too many redundant nodes. Judging from the lack of even the rudimentary personality Decimal had exhibited, they had, accidentally or not, resorted it to its factory standard.

[Syrenrei]

"Decimal, deny any and all requests from anyone except myself and Lieutenant Colonel Rene Quentain, this gentleman with me. Can you confirm that your self-defense mechanisms are online?" she asked as she slipped an arm under Rene's shoulders and started to guide him to the steps. Though he had been taking the initiative thus far with strategizing their combat, she recognized he was wounded, and his situation had probably worsened in the last few minutes. He had shielded her and dragged her along when she was too stunned and confused to make sense of her surroundings. Just as he had supported her and kept her safe, now she had to do the same, even if it was only from exacerbating the injuries he had sustained.

"Confirmed that only orders from Duchess Solae Falia and Lieutenant Colonel Rene Quentain are being followed. How may I be of further assistance?" the program asked in an almost comically monotone voice. It was such a sharp deviation from the inappropriate undertones of Mia that could stand to have slightly less personality at times that it gave the freshly promoted aristocrat pause. The artificial sentience was asking a simple enough question- but the delivery lacked any pretense of congenial service.

"I'm enacting a password for all approaching vehicles," Solae added as she continued to help Rene down the stairs as rapidly was realistically possible given his state. None of their achievements would matter if he bled out during their escape because the strong cocktail of drugs he had administered to himself made him oblivious to his physical trauma. "The password is Marlene. If any vehicle approaches without the proper password you are to use the self-defense artillery to eliminate the threat with extreme prejudice. Does this facility have containment doors?"

"Yes, Duchess Solae Falia," Decimal replied with absolutely no elaboration. It was the same infuriating lack of detail they had encountered earlier. Despite herself Solae rolled her eyes in frustration at this concise statement.

"After further consideration, fire upon any and all vehicles in the area that do not provide you with the password within thirty seconds," she decided. The embassy, as an official imperial building, was equipped with ballista that could be utilized to defend against invaders. On most planets this protocol was not necessary. There had been enough attempted coups within the last two hundred years, however, that the throne had elected to err on the side of caution. They had implemented requirements that there be sufficient weaponry to take on insurrections, including that of soldiers with military-grade equipment. Solae was only fighting for her own self-preservation, and she taking advantage of the resources at her disposal for exactly the purpose they were intended, but she felt slightly ill at the revelation she'd be the direct cause of the insurgents' deaths.

Taking a deep breath to brace herself for the next ruthless command she forced herself to blot out any consideration for those trying to take them captive and/or kill them as the case may be. The nobility did not tolerate weakness. Summoning the willpower to ensure their mutual survival she cleared her throat. "Decimal, chart a path for us to the exit. Lower all containment doors that do not obstruct our path," she declared with all the authority she held. "Once we cross the threshold of a containment door you will lower it behind us. Do you understand?"

"The containment doors will remain locked for a minimum of two hours after engagement. Is this within acceptable parameters, Duchess Solae Falia?" Decimal responded. "I require verbal confirmation prior to deployment per operating procedure guidelines."

"Yes, Decimal, please proceed immediately," she affirmed with a grimace. Containment doors were meant for exactly what their name implied. The reinforced composite was impervious to both types of fire, whether flame or the handheld variety that was standard issue. It was constructed of a material very similar to what was used for landing pads. The theory behind the design was to provide a suppressive tactic that would isolate troops that had breached imperial offices, provide an air-tight seal to starve conflagrations and keep them from spreading down a hallway with a large supply of oxygen fuel, and even potentially shield citizens from a highly contagious epidemic. The largest drawback to the doors was that they had locking mechanisms that would not let anyone, whether it be Decimal or a Duchess or even the Empress herself, open them until the duration had expired. Understandably they were seldom employed. Solae was reluctant to take these extreme measures but their circumstances were dire.

"Mia, can you hear me?" the diplomat queried as they reached a landing of the stairwell.

"Yes, Lady Solae," Mia purred seductively as if she yearned for nothing more than a kind word from her mistress.

"Contact Ten and tell him I need an armored vehicle for extraction with full medical for Rene. The embassy's AI will ask him for a password for safe passage- inform him the password is Marlene. I've activated the embassy's defenses so his team should have little difficulty landing and retreating with minimal risk." She could tell that some of her fiance's strength was beginning to dwindle. Fortunately they did not have much farther to travel.

As they inched their way along a corridor they heard the thudding of containment doors quickly and firmly sliding shut on the floors above them as well as the ground floor onto which they had descended less than a minute prior. With this merciless symphony came a disconcerting silence. While they were not manufactured for sound absorption, the thick material of which they were constructed passively muffled noise with extreme efficiency, which was eerie when there was yelling and screaming moments before. "Shutter the windows as well, Decimal, unless they are so heavily damaged that the mechanisms are no longer intact."

"Understood, Duchess Solae Falia," Decimal said as there were a clattering noise of metal barricades being lowered accordingly. When Tan and Ralch's men had opened fire on one another none of them had a sufficiently high appointment to lock down the embassy like a fortress. The linguist had not anticipated needing them truthfully- she had been so focused on getting in that she had spent much less time dwelling on her options for getting out. Guilt still gnawed on the back of her conscience but she steeled herself. They had been very nearly killed multiple times over the last half hour without a pause for compassion. It was foolish for her to empathize with murderers and mercenaries.

A few minutes later they had made it to the courtyard. The armaments on the roof pivoted, whirled, and clicked as they shot a large caliber bullet or missile- Solae honestly could not discern the difference, into the sky in the opposite direction. There was a thundering boom as the hurtling projectile struck its target and detonated. There was no flying debris or danger of any kind in proximity, but the newly-crowned duchess crouched instinctively and pulled Rene with her to a bench that had avoided destruction thus far. The Zatis embassy was a veritable war zone.

"I am guiding Sir Ten to your coordinates," Mia interrupted with breathless anticipation.

They did not wait long. Just as Solae's anxiety rose into her throat their heavily armored chariot arrived, hovering a few feet above the ground before landing. There was no landing pad available that was not housing the charred and smoldering remains of their adversaries' transport. Ten's team had to improve and destroy a portion of walkway that melted under the heat but did not combust into flames like the carefully landscaped greenery would have.

"What a relief," Solae sighed as she saw the hatch hiss and slide open. As she moved to stand her legs finally buckled under her weight as her overwhelmed psyche conceded defeat. The elegant woman crumpled, not due to any mortal affliction, but because she had pushed well past her personal limits. Exhausted from being confused, terrified, and subjected to a seemingly endless supply of stress, with no training that would build her endurance for such intense scenarios, it was not all that surprising she collapsed. New recruits to the armed services were prone to being dazed despite their preparation when they met with an actual, authentic attack. It was the sight of their rescuers climbing through the portal that signaled to the flaxen-haired dignitary she could be granted her respite.

[Penny]

Rene managed to catch Solae as she crumpled, though taking her weight, and that of her armor sent a stab of red hot pain up his side. A pair of hard faced men leaped from the armored air car and grabbed the pair hauling them through the hatch and into the rear compartment of the vehicle. The hatch hissed shut sealing away the crackle of burning APCs and the din of alarms set off by the discharge of the buildings high energy defensive weapons. Rene’s vision had become curiously monotone and the sound of fans and voices merged into a meaningless warble. Ten’s face appeared in his vision, pulling his helmet away but though his lips were moving Rene could make no sense of the words coming from his lips. He had the curious feeling that his tutors would be angry at him if he couldn’t relay Ten’s words to them. The kingpin turned and spoke to one of his men but by the time he turned back Rene had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Zatis - Day 23

“...needs a hospital… lost a lot of … pressurize…” Rene’s eyes fluttered open to reveal nothing but a blinding overhead light. The taste of antisceptic filled his throat and cold fluid pumped into his right arm with a steady pulse like rhythm. He tried to sit up but some kind of bracing around his chest prevented him from doing so, though it didn’t prevent a stab of pain and the blaring alarms of several monitoring system. A face appeared above him, silhouetted against the bright light.

“Mr Quentain, you need to relax, don’t try to move,” a familiar voice told him. Rene tried to summon up the name of Ten’s doctor but the woman’s name seemed to have vanished from his foggy mind.

“Solae…” he croaked, his voice dry and cracked.

“She is ok, in better shape than you that is for sure,” the doctor replied. Rene felt himself relax either from some modification to the drugs he was being treated with, or simply the knowledge that Solae was safe.

“Good..” he whispered.

“You were shot,” the doctor said in an accusatory tone. Cristeta, that was her name, Rene recalled.

“Occ...occupational hazard,” he managed. Something moist was pressed into his mouth and he sucked on it instinctively, water coating his parched throat.

“You would be surprised how often I hear that,” Cristeta responded somewhat sourly.

“A piece of your armor fractured inwards and penetrated your liver,” the doctor went on somewhat more clinically.

“It’s a miracle it didn’t lacerate an artery while you were running around all hopped up n that awful cocktail,” Cristeta marveled. The kind of combat drugs used by soldiers in the field were not well thought off in the medical community, a doctor wanted a drug that was safe and stable, a soldier wanted whatever it took to keep them on their feet.

“Any one you walk away from doc,” Rene responded, his voice strengthening, “but thank you for saving my life.” Cristeta grunted in acknowledgement a certain professional pride showing on her face.

“I need to see Solae,” he said after a moment. The doctor glared at him.

“What you need to do is rest and heal,” she countered. Rene shook his head.

“No time,” he explained, “Bhast and her men will be out by now and… wait how long have I been out?”

“Almost 30 hours I’m supposed to let Ten know as…”

“As soon as he wakes up yes,” Ten interjected, stepping through the door into the room. Rene forced himself up onto his elbows. The room must have been intended to be an elegant sitting room but it had been stripped of furniture and covered with semi-transparent plastic sheeting. A variety of surgical equipment including life support monitors and a synthetic blood transfusion set were spaced more or less equidistant around the bed in which he lay.

“I need to talk to Solae,” Rene insisted, forcing himself slowly to sit up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“What would I know, Im just a doctor,” Cristeta muttered after a glance at Ten to make sure the kingpin would not insist on her behalf.

“Has the Decameron already lifted?” Rene asked. Ten nodded.

“There was no point in trying to prevent it, Antigony Bhast could certainly have sent the news on any one of a hundred indepentent transports, perhaps you will get lucky and the Decameron will come apart when it tries to jump. It would have been a smarter move to blow the building with her inside,” Ten said with a total lack of emotion.

“Destroying a PEA worth more than the rest of this planet combined,” Rene added a touch sourly. Cristeta hurridley produced a wheel chair and Rene sank gratefully into it. His body was healing rapidly but there were few safe ways to combat exhaustion other than actually resting.

“It might have been worth it, to keep Tan in the dark,” Ten countered. Rene shook his head.

“Even if the Decameron wasn’t monitoring the communications net, which they certainly were, the Captain would have to be an idiot not to assume the worst and report it to Duke Tan.”

Ten shrugged, not conceding the point, but unwilling to keep arguing it.

“I will take you to the Marquessa, and you can discuss your next move,” he told Rene, moving behind him to guide the wheel chair out of the improvised operating room.

[Syrenrei]

The former marquise, now duchess, was seated at the desk in the otherwise vacant suite that had been set aside for hers and Rene's use. Her long hair had been piled atop her head and loosely and pinned into place with a variety of decorative butterfly barrettes that briefly gave the illusion of the flaxen-haired beauty being a princess of the forest rather than an aristocrat on a seedy criminal world. Solae's dress was a flowing gossamer gown tied at the waist but allowing a free range of movement. One hand was on a screen set into the table while the other was poised on another attached to the wall. The topic of research was obscured by records scrolling by in a language foreign to all present except the diplomat herself.

"You should be resting!" she objected as she heard the wheelchair enter the room. The sound had made her jump to her feet not in alarm, as she knew she was safe within the walls of the fortified dwelling, but because she was outraged at this apparent lack of concern for her fiance's health. "You should have sent word you were awake and stayed with the doctor," she clarified, not wanting to sound ungrateful or annoyed by her paramour's presence, "until she confirms you ought to be out and about."

"I think he deserves to know what you've been planning," Ten replied casually with a slight hint of disapproval peeking through his more reserved demeanor.

"No need to be so sensationalist," she said with a good-natured roll of the eyes as she gestured for Rene to be wheeled to the desk. Despite the apparent disagreement between the illicit broker and linguist, their words belied a level of respect, one that had developed naturally during their time spent on Zatis. Solae appreciated the risk that Ten took in forming an allegiance with them and throwing his weight behind the loyalists, however quietly, because he was not obligated to offer any assistance. Ten admired (though he would not admit it aloud) that Solae was incorruptible in an age when everyone else he knew could be convinced to abandon their morals with the correct incentive. Someone as fastidiously loyal as the couple was exceedingly rare.

"It occurred to me that our ship had a crew of four originally and it can support more than you and I," the duchess explained as she motioned to the foreign text. Realizing it was indecipherable to her audience she called up a schematic of the Bonaventure and pointed to the unoccupied crew's quarters. She and Rene had cleaned the room out briefly but otherwise not been using it even for storage. There were four beds within if memory served, and though it was tight quarters to be comfortable for month-long journeys, it was a decent enough accommodation if one had free reign of the rest of the vessel.

"Specifically she was hoping to procure additional members of an entourage," Ten remarked dryly.

"I don't want to see Rene more hurt than necessary, and it's madness not to attempt to recruit a few more individuals that could help guarantee our survival," she said, more trying to convince the older mastermind than her beau herself, but she quickly returned her gaze back to the latter. "I have every right, as a duchess, to have more than one bodyguard. If we can find a couple trustworthy souls to protect us we won't be in as much danger as we were at the embassy. Just two more would significantly strengthen us."

"You're leaving out the critical information, my dear," Ten said as he crossed his arms.

"I want to recruit a couple Syshin," Solae said without apology for the extremely unconventional notion. Syshin were relegated to the role of labourers only; it was unheard of for them to do anything more elevated than being a domestic servant at the highest rank. To provide them armor and weaponry would be madness for anyone else. Almost every human in the empire thought the subjugated race was not intelligent enough, not capable enough, and would lash out at their superiors given the opportunity to do so. That Solae spoke to them so kindly was a breach of etiquette. There was no law forbidding the duchess- especially with her station- in appointing whomever she chose for her security detail, but it would raise the brows of the most liberal minds.

"Duke Tan would never try to appeal to them," she elaborated, "and that makes them inherently a better choice than a man or woman whom he'd have the means to persuade to join the coup. He'll try to kill them certainly, but he wouldn't lower himself to bribe a slave, what he thinks is slightly better than a beast. They'll listen to you, Rene," she promised, "and be eager to follow any training you give them. It's a rare chance to show the Stellar Empire that they are worthy of more rights. Additionally," she added, her eyes drifting to Ten, "we could more easily appeal to other races if we can prove we are open-minded when it comes to allies."

"If you'd consider a human rather than a Syshin I could provide recommendations," Ten suggested. "Not my best men, as I need them for myself, but men that would follow you and not be Syshin."

"I've been looking through the records of the Syshin already here on Zatis to try to determine the best candidates, and from that pool who we'd need to... liberate," she said as she pressed a few keys to make the text display in a common tongue. Besides the Syshin brothels there were also a few fighting rings for the visitors that got their figurative jollies from watching violent battles, a couple factories that utilized them for raw strength and endurance, and a few owners that 'rented' them for a variety of tasks that were 'beneath' an imperial citizen.

[Penny]

If Ten expected Rene to leap to his feet and raise an outraged objection to the plan he was disappointed. For one thing Rene did not share the common prejudices against the race, his only experience with them being their kindness back on New Concordia and for another, he really didn’t think he could have leapt to his feet.

“I’m alright,” he assured Solae.

“He most certainly isn’t alright,” Criestia interjected fussily as she followed them into the room fussily adjusting something on her data pad.

“He was very lucky not to be killed!”

“Well here I sit still alive,” Rene rejoined, “And I don't have time to spend a month in a surgical ward.” Criestia threw up her hands in defeat. Rene found it difficult to keep his eyes off Solae in her gossamer gown. She was heart stopping lovely and seemed like a Fairy Queen out of fable rather than a mortal woman. He felt ridiculously out of place in the simple hospital gown that he was wearing. He cleared his throat when he realised that silence had stretched.

“You can’t seriously think that recruiting Syshin is a goo…” Ten began but Rene held up his hand to silence the man.

“What I think doesn't really matter compared to the Duchess’ wish,” he said with a quiet sternness to his voice. Ten had been a help, but he was getting somewhat above himself in so openly questioning Solae’s orders.

“But for what it is worth, no Syshin has ever fired a weapon at me or tried to drag Solae off into slavery, unlike a rather large number of humans at this point.”

“I’m also afraid that General Bhast hasn’t departed with her ship, she is currently hiring local mercenaries to track you down. I don’t know if you have time to go shopping through the local slave markets…”

“I can help you,” came a voice from the doorway. All eyes swiveled to the the door, though Rene’s side tightened painfully and he had to turn his chair in order to see the speaker. Rosaria stood in the doorway dressed in a sober black jumpsuit that wasn’t quite skin tight. Swirls of patterned embroidery broke up the lines of her body and gave the impression she was wearing several layers. The bruises on her body were not visible which, now that Rene thought about it, was probably the point.

“Mistress Rosaria…,” Ten began but she held up a hand in unconscious imitation of Rene a few moments before.

“I have extensive knowledge of Mistress Thorne’s operations, she showed them to me herself,” the girl elaborated. She made a slight curtsey towards Solae in a fair imitation of Imperial Court fashion.

“I have decided not to return to her, and she will not be pleased. If you agree to take me with you, I am willing to help you find the slaves you desire.”

“The people,” Rene corrected. Rosaria looked up with a hint of irritation on her face, but quickly smoothed it over.

“The people you desire then,” she amended.

[Syrenrei]

"I am happy to have your help," Solae began after it was clear that both Ten and Rene were waiting for her to make a judicious decision on whether or not to accept this proposal, "But I am no slaver, not of Syshin nor of young women. We will take you if you wish to come with no obligations, no strings attached, no demands. The Lieutenant Colonel and I," she continued with a smile that belied how much she enjoyed stating Rene's new title as often as possible, "are surrounded by danger. If you can accept that and the risk of traveling with the coup's largest targets, we will do our best to find you a new life and place to live."

The parallel drawn by the duchess between the situation of Rosaria, who had been Thorne's subordinate, plaything, and slave, to the plight of the captive Syshin did not go unnoticed by the shrewd teen. She was not yet willing to give the alien race as much respect mentally or socially as the heroic couple evidently did, but it did soften her bias slightly, and make her ever so minimally more willing to see them as more than bipedal beasts. She could not claim that she was all that different. Her home was perhaps nicer, but she had still been caged, restricted, and forced into a role she would have chosen for herself otherwise. A difference in the means of torture did not elevate her status. The girl knew better than to try to argue nuances with the diplomat with the golden hair; it had already been made clear to her that the aristocrat was well-educated, highly intelligent, and could talk circles around her.

What was more curious than this defense of the Syshin, however, was how generous the noblewoman was. Rosaria could not help but stare at her for a long moment in suspicion of this virtue. Alayla Thorne was many things but kind was not one of them. Ten was a calculated, cunning businessman who had no pretense of overflowing benevolence. Silently she searched Solae's expression for any hint she might be patronizing the youth, but she found none. There was a pervasive charitable grace that seeped into her eyes. Being around the duchess almost made her uncomfortable. Seeing such extraordinary character only made her aware how jarringly different their personalities were and, though it was never anyone's intention, made her feel a touch inadequate.

"Ten," Solae said, rounding on their host with an amicable tone, "do you think between yourself and Rene you could find a sidearm for Rosaria?"

"Just to make sure I understand," the criminal mastermind began slowly, "you want to find and/or modify weaponry for Syshin and a teenager?" He was incredulous but not overtly defiant. In the courts a duchess could have compelled obedience; she was light years above Ten in stature. On Zatis, however, it was their alliance and friendship (as much as a merchant of sin could ever afford) that made him acquiesce. Given the almost blasphemous requests she was making his raised brows was a mild reaction.

"You're always welcome to join me yourself, Ten," Solae joked, not bothered by what could have been construed as minor insubordination. "You could be a dashing knight in shining armor to the right men on distant planets," she teased further. "But if you don't want to expand your horizons, then I suppose we'll have to go with Syshin and this teenager. Perhaps we'll start with something that merely stuns?"

Ten let out a resigned sigh and shrugged his shoulders. It was not a battle of wills he wished to partake in this day and so he relented. If Rosaria or the Syshin betrayed Solae, as he very much expected, it was her judgment that led to her damnation. He was also rather certain that if he did not assist she would find another manner, one in which she ingratiated herself to someone else and would result in a loss of favor, but achieve the same goal. Above all else he did not want to lose her favor. Having earned the personal gratitude of a duchess would ensure him into his old age; he had been content with a marquise, and he was greedy for the protection her new title held.

"Very well," he conceded, "I will evaluate our selection with Rene."

"As soon as we can for Rosaria in particular," Solae ventured more gingerly. "Until the doctor clears Rene for action- and I want to hear it from her lips directly- he's on bed rest." She gave her lover a stern look that warned him against trying to protest his health. He was lucky already she not sent him to bed or refused to share her plan until he was further in his recovery. The linguist was aware how long he had been unconscious and that he had awoken an hour ago at best.

[Penny]

“Remarkable, maybe it's true what the peasants say about you nobles being supermen,” Criestia said as she looked over a set of readings. Rene had been changed into a pair of his loose fitting fatigue pants and a white silk shirt that had been left open to allow the physician to monitor his wounds. She slid a sensor pack over his wounded abdomen, the cold gel chiling Rene. She didn’t look away from a holographic read out that evidently showed the subdermal injury. Ten had taken Rosaria away to find her a weapon and left Rene and Solae to their planning. Criestia, greatly encouraged by Solae’s support of forcing Rene not to move around, had compromised by bringing the medical cot into the sitting room Solae was using as her headquarters. The contrast with the rooms tasteful decor was a little ridiculous but that was a small price to pay for not being separated from Solae.

“I produce a lot of healing factors,” Rene admitted, “useful for a Marine.” Like all of the aristocracy he had the habit of keeping the exact nature of his genetic alterations quiet, especially around outsiders. The aristocrats feared that the common people might claim they were a different species, and though that was a gross exaggeration, it was the sort of thing that might catch on amongst rabble rousers.

“Well you are still going to have to lay still while you heal,” Criestia added somewhat pettishly. Rene resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he wasn’t going to prevail with Solae backing the woman up. He did wish that Criestia would find somewhere else to be as he wanted to be alone with his fiancee, but he supposed her orders would prevent him from doing what he really wanted to do in any case.

“Don’t you have one of those regeneration chambers, like the one I used on New Concordia?” he asked, thinking of how good he had felt after the battle at the plantation. Criestia clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

“That kind of things isn’t available on worlds that aren’t under direct Imperial rule. You probably wouldn’t have been able to find it on New Concordia either if you weren't at the embassy,” Criestia explained. Rene didn’t bother to correct the doctor, as it was likely that the owner of the Plantation had smuggled it in with the aid of someone with official power. Such medicine was expensive but, under the right circumstances, less so than questions at an official hospital.

“I can’t believe that you are a Duchess now,” Rene said, turning his attention away from the probing fussing physician. Such an elevation would have been among the dizziest day dreams of Solae’s parents, a result possible only from a marriage to Duke Tan or one of the other Sector Dukes. Rene couldn’t remember if Tan himself was married, not that it mattered, if found innocent of Treason the woman in question would certainly divorce Tan and return to her own family in order to escape the worst of the scandal. At worst she might be pensioned off as a dowager, allowed to live comfortably but removed from official power due to the taint of her husband's actions.

“And I’m probably the youngest and least decorated Colonel in the history of the Marines,” he added with a chuckle. A Lieutenant-Colonel would normally command a battalion of three to eight hundred men depending on its balance of specialists. The irony of a Duchess without a Duchy and a Colonel without a battalion was not lost on him. The Empress had little she could give them at the moment so she had given them what she could, authority and legitimacy. Rene suspected that the fact that his father was sheltering her during whatever attempted coup was taking place on Capella played a large role in her generosity, though it made his legal situation considerably more complex. It wasn’t lost on him that the rank was probably the lowest that could be bestowed that would lend any air of propriety to a match between he and Solae, or at least Marquessa Falia, as a Duchess she had just become one of the most eligible women in the galaxy. His memory of what had happened in the PEA center was somewhat fragmented by the wounds he had suffered and the drugs he had taken but he supposed there would be time to get a full accounting from Solae when they were able to be alone.

“I am honored to be of service of course, though I suppose you are within your rights to request a more senior officer,” he said with a wink.

“Do you think we can trust Rosaria?” Rene asked frankly. He did not for a moment doubt that she could provide useful information, or at least access to where that information could be found but her motives were unclear. It was possible she planned to return herself to Thorne’s good graces by betraying them though Rene was inclined to take her at her word, having seen the bruises she had suffered in the course of her ‘lessons’.

[Syrenrei]

"I hadn't really thought about the possibility of being made a duchess," Solae conceded. Truthfully she ought to have anticipated that she would escalate in stature for her proven loyalty, but she had expected nothing more than social recognition for her deeds, and a reputation that placed her upon reproach for her unusual compassion. Perhaps it was because she had so narrowly focused on reaching the PEA, sending the message, jockeying for Syshin rights, and clearing the good name of her fiance, that she had forgotten all else except these goals. The rat race that made the aristocracy claw for any opportunity to advance had been left behind years ago. The former marquise had not considered that she would inherit lands or title, though in retrospect it had been a natural choice as Duke Tan could obviously no longer be recognized as such by the Stellar Empire in light of his coup. Her parents would be aghast that she did not think of more lofty prizes than a happy marriage, justice served, and peace. Then again, she suspected they would not be surprised given that she had not once voiced any desire for engaging to a man that might have brought her more wealth or fame.

"It is ironic, because I've never wanted power, and would have happily accepted a lower rank to marry you," she said, putting a voice to a concern that might have grown in his heart. "Being a marquise was never that important and yet I've risen, while the man that has hungered for more has lost his position." Solae shook her head with a slight twinge of pity for Duke Tan. He was a despicable man who was evidently never satisfied, thirsting for more, willing to kill for more. That he never appreciated all that he had was tragic despite the circumstances. The empress may have crowned her duchess in no small part because she was not ambitious for a throne. In tumultuous times, the loyal and steadfast was priceless.

"As for Rosaria, I don't know," she admitted as she sank back down into her chair now the doctor was keeping Rene from exerting himself physically. The screens had faded into a series of artfully taken photographs flickering past. The actual work of pouring through Syshin records was now moot. With Thorne's protege turned to their side, hopefully, she would not need to spend so much time trying to analyze the data and gleam the information she needed for locating and liberating possible allies.

"I want to give her a chance," Solae sighed, shaking her head. "Her desire to work against Thorne I think is sincere. Once you have a taste of freedom it's hard to go back into a cage you were put into unwillingly. Whether or not she turns into a better woman I do not know... but she won't have any chance to choose for herself if we don't give it to her." There was a hint of sadness in her tone. Both of them had led a privileged life but not without limitations. There were hobbies they were allowed and ones not, professions encouraged and forbidden, dalliances permitted and others forced into dissolution. Solae had enjoyed more control than most over her destiny but she did not have the world as her figurative oyster- being a pilot and mechanic, for example, was "inappropriate" career path for a Falia.

"And you're not the least decorated," she objected, "unless you can name me even a colonel who saved the last noble able to send a warning via PEA to the empress to warn her of treason and rebellion. No? Surely you can name one who was very literally offered enough credit to buy his own planet and refused outright. Still no? How about one that was personally appointed by the empress from your former military rank. Hmmm, well I suppose that gives you an unconventional decoration, but one that will be the envy of many," she said with a bemused smile and raised brow. He might not be able to fully escape the charges of murder in his past but he would make most of the imperial forces vibrate with jealousy. His sentence was not commuted but the inherent praise in his reward could not be ignored.

"Do you want a battalion of your own?" she then asked more seriously. "If we could procure a bigger ship..," the golden-haired beauty mused aloud as she was lost in her thoughts, seized upon by a notion that was wild but exciting. "Tell me more about what you can do as a Lieutenant-Colonel. Can you recruit your own soldiers and appoint them yourself, or would you need to go through a superior officer? Or could they be assigned to you through other channels?" Obviously the duchess was already scheming a long-term solution to their security issue if they could thread through some loopholes. The largest obstacle, though, was a ship. The Bonaventure was for a small smuggling crew and cargo only. They could house some bodyguards, Rosaria, and themselves, but not an army.

"Criestia, in your medical opinion, how soon do you anticipate a full recovery and return to duties given the rate of healing you have observed? And what activities could Rene safely participate in without a risk to his progress? For example, do you think he could sit at a desk for a while, or should he remain in bed for the time being?" she inquired diligently. Rene might be certain he was fit for minor action but she trusted the doctor more- especially since they had been so dangerously close to losing her lover for more than two days.

[Penny]

Criestia made an indelicate sound at the question. She fiddled with her hand held scanner for a moment, more to give herself a moment to compose a reply than for any new information it might provide.

“I’m going to put an ATU on it, so he won’t be able to run around, but he ought to be ok to sit up by this evening. Buy tomorrow, if everything goes well he should be able to walk without doing more damage but I’d give it a week to make a full recovery,” Criestia explained. Automatic Treatment Units were a small scale version of the medical computers that starships often carried, able to perform minor surgery and post surgical care by way of small metallic polymer filaments which penetrated to the affected area and then worked on the problem from the inside with a combination of mechanical repair, pharmaceutical treatment and a basic form of 3D printing which laid down a carbohydrate superstructure which the body would eventually subsume as tissue regrew.

“Do you have a medical computer on that ship of yours?” Criestia asked, as she drew a palm sized plastic box from her medical bag and touched a button to sync it to her handheld.

“We do,” Solae confirmed glancing between Rene and the doctor. Criestia pressed the box to Rene’s side, the flexible plastic moulding like putty beneath her hands. There was a soft fizzing sound as surgical superglue attached it to Rene skin.

“Good, if you hook him up to it everyday you might speed recovery time to three maybe four days. Providing…” she wagged a finger at Rene, “you don’t go around getting into any more gunfights.”

“That might not be up to me, if Bhast is out there recruiting hired guns it’s only going to take so long to figure out who his hiding us and where we are. She has probably already traced Thorne’s call to Ralch and from there she can work her way back to Ten…” Rene cut off with a grimace of pain as Criestia activated the ATU and the three surgical filaments lanced into his skin. The pain subsided almost immediately as they began to apply neuro-inhibitors to deactivate the pain responses.

“That isn’t my department, I'm just telling you to take it easy if you don’t want to rip yourself open before you finish healing,” Criestia said as she packed up her medical bag.

“I’ll be monitoring your readings but if you feel anything change you should call me immediately,” she cautioned before slinging her bag and leaving the two lovers alone. Solae leaned down and they shared a brief passionate kiss, though she was careful not to disturb the unit attached to his side. Rene showed no such restraint, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing their bodies together for a long moment, the heat and scent of her stirring his loins despite the after effects of wounds and medication. She broke the embrace with a wicked smile before he could risk undoing any of Criestia’s work, he would probably be lucky if the spike in his heart rate didn’t bring her back.

“I suppose some things might do as much damage as another gunfight,” he said with a wink, earning himself a wicked grin from his paramour.

“So tell me about you new rank,” she said, disengaging herself with evident reluctance.

“Well,” Rene began, leaning back on his cot.

“A light colonel ordinarily runs a batallion, but they also serve as advisors and military attaches, you probably had one at the embassy in New Concordia, though it may have been a major seeing we are pretty far from Capella,” Rene explained. That had probably been what the Empress had intended when she granted Solae’s request to improve his situation.

“I don’t think that recruiting troops is a good idea, you were onto something with the Syshin but the more people we expose ourselves to the more likely it is someone will try to take Duke Tan up on his offer.” Rene lay back trying to dredge up the bits and pieces he remembered from long ago briefings when he had been stationed on New Concordia.

“I am probably the highest ranking marine left in the Eastern Cross,” he admitted.

“There was a Colonel Drakova stationed on the flag ship of the local naval squadron at Traulis Major but that would have been the first target when the coup kicked off. They probably hit every deployment of marines but its possible there are other fugitives who escaped the purge.” There had been several thousand marines scattered across the Eastern Cross, working as military advisors to the Gids and at small bases like the Rat Trap. Had any of those men survived. There had to be a certain number who had been on leave, or like Rene had simply gotten lucky. If they could find those men Rene could in theory rally them, though he had no training to be an officer beyond what his father had taught him and what he had picked up as an enlisted man.

“I suppose that brings us to what we should do next,” Rene said, the words sounding strange to his own ears. They had been focused on reaching the PEA for so long that he hadn’t really thought about what might come after. The vague notion of finding a quiet world to hide on that he had been forming had been dashed in the PEA chamber. The Empress had given them tremendous gifts but they carried with them new responsibilities and imperatives.

“It’s a shame we didn’t have time to get any more information.”

[Syrenrei]

"I'm not suggesting recruiting mercenaries," Solae said slowly, still hesitant and thoughtful about the proposition she was about to make. She was acutely aware that she had an unorthodox approach and mindset. While she trusted Rene implicitly, and did not doubt either his virtue or loyalty, she knew that he would not be treading farther away from societal expectation without her lead. She did not envy the empress. Because of her position, she took on the responsibility of guiding the entire empire and must, even if she did not admit it to any of her citizens, occasionally stop and doubt her choices. The diplomat stayed her tongue for a moment. Her soldier would not follow her blindly but she wanted to quell the doubt in her heart that she was even voicing a dangerous notion.

After the prolonged pause she finally continued. "Depending on how liberally we interpret the laws, rules, and regulations for the recruitment of troops in times of war, we might be able to create a force that is... not entirely human. There are people that Duke Tan won't recruit, Rene, people that he thinks are beneath him and wouldn't lower himself to appeal to. More than two Syshin would follow us to us to escape abuse, to gain some recognition, and fight for a chance at liberty. Veterans and spies might be coaxed out of retirement. Let's also not forget that all the destruction and death he's wrought will create enemies. Those who have lost their loved ones to him will jump at an opportunity to reap revenge."

"Do you remember that sword from Lord Armon's?" she added as she stood and wandered the room, not quite pacing, but too excited at their prospects to stay still and sitting. Once they were traveling through space she'd be confined to less spacious quarters. She wanted to take advantage of this chance to stretch her legs and let her mind meander as her feet did. A superior at the embassy claimed that roaming through the building helped him think. Solae had doubted this at the time because the break room was his most frequent stop in such journeys. "It was of Kalderi make and origin. Historically they don't involve themselves with humanity, but if we can show signs of good faith for other races, we might be able to forge an alliance. At the very least it's worth trying."

"But before we can do anything we need resources... and for you to recover. Making any plans now feels slightly moot since we have limited space on the Bonaventure, we're on a world pre-disposed to working against us, one of us is severely wounded, and the other ill-equipped to handle much battle. We're a huge imposition on Ten but I'm not sure what else can be done except lay low until we find the means to leave," the duchess sighed. It was dispiriting to consider that their stature had been elevated but they were still rather helpless in the face of adversity. Not as much had changed with their respective appointments to give a tangible advantage. Titles were empty words until there were people to give them meaning. A count could be slain just as easily as a merchant during times of conflict.

"Is it too late to just decide to get married and have a couple kids?" she asked only half-joking. "I think technically we can get married now that you're a colonel and I can absolutely guarantee there's a run down shack here that lets people under the influence get married for a nominal fee. Having a couple kids might be a little more complicated, but I'd be shocked if they didn't have a workaround for that as well, for those who want to do things the old-fashioned way." It was a wistful fantasy and not reality. Normally she would not advocate for domestic bliss, but she yearned for simpler times, for when she did not go to sleep at night worrying whether or not the only person left alive she loved would succumb to his injuries. Watching Rene had been harrowing. The first day she had sat by his side but then had been chased out when it became evident she was herself worsening.

"I suppose it'd be poor form for a newly-appointed duchess to elope," Solae conceded before arriving at the bed and laying upon it. Her back was stiff from sitting at the desk for hours on end. Were she in the company of someone less incapacitated she might have felt she had a right to complain. Hiding her discomfort and turning on her side she shrugged. "What do you think we should do? You've the more tactical mind. What's the best way of extricating ourselves?"

[Penny]

Rene lay back on the bed beside Solae grinning at the idea of eloping with the Duchess of an entire sector and finding a shack somewhere to wait out the storm. It certainly had an appeal to it, even if it wasn’t a very practical reality. Wordlessly he entwined his fingers in hers while he considered the question.

“The sooner we can leave Zatis the better, once the Decameron arrives at Traullus Major, Duke Tan is likely to send a large force here to capture you, no matter what the cost,” Rene mused. Ironically, although they had already reached the PEA and sent out the warning, it actually increased the Duke’s need to obtain access to the PEA network. Without instantaneous communication he could not coordinate his forces efficiently, nor could he conspire with plotters outside the Eastern Cross. Rene was increasingly convinced that Tan’s rebellion was part of a larger plot, the fact that an attempt had been made on the life of the Empress, childless and without an obvious heir, was telling. If Mercedez died a power struggle would result among the Sector Dukes over the throne. Given all the ill feeling and factionalism her father had created civil war might be inevitable. In such a situation, early movers, like Tan would have a considerable advantage either to aim for the throne or simply carve out their own pocket empires.

“It will take two days for the courier ship to make it there, maybe a day for Tan to organise a response and another two days for any forces to get back here,” Rene continued, calculating the distances and times in his head.

“No, I was out for a day so that makes it .. what, four days before we can expect a response from Tan. We need to be off Zatis by then, which means we need to recruit our Syshin and take back the ship quickly.” Bhast had the Bonaventure under surveillance as her best chance of snatching up the fugitive Duchess, but Rene thought he had a way to reach the ship without an out and out assault. It seemed to him that Bhast had made a mistake by sending the Decameron back to Trallus Major with news. If he had been in command he would have hired merchant shipping to act as couriers and kept the Decameron on station. It was a warship but it would have been more than a match for the Bonaventure if they did get into orbit.

“After that… I don’t think it would even occur to Tan or Bhast that we might head for Kalderi space,” Rene admitted. A plan was beginning to form in his mind, although it was to nebulus and unformed to be vocalized just yet. The Kalderi were an enigmatic people with limited contact with humans. Shortly before the collapse, ancient Terran colonists had discovered a world that was inhabited by the Kalderi. The aliens there had lived in a rough analogue to the feudal ages of ancient Terra with no technology more advanced than windmills. The colonists had assumed that this was a localized species and settled the world, using their superior technology to displace and oppress the locals, eventually leading to several bloody massacres. It turned out that the world was an isolated outpost of a larger spacefaring Empire, a retreat of sorts where Kalderi interested in experience a simpler time chose to live as their ancestors had. The Terran’s mistake had been exposed when a great fleet had appeared above the world, obliterating the human vessels and exterminating the colonists. The Jeweled Armada, as it was known due to the strange gem like structures on the surface of the alien warships, had then proceeded to obliterate several Terran fleets and destroy ten human worlds, sanitizing them to the level of bacteria with orbital fire, before vanishing never to be seen again. Records from before the collapse were patchy at best, but one could still find vid images salvaged from battles with the Jeweled Armada. Rene, like most children, had seen them when he was taught the story. There were some academics who claimed the Kalderi were responsible for the Collapse, and others who claimed that the Collapse had convinced them that they didn’t need to continue a campaign of extermination.

When the Stellar Empire had risen after the thousand year dark age ushered in by the collapse they had recontacted the Kalderi and even discovered some of their home systems, to the galactic north of the Eastern Cross. Diplomatic efforts had begun at once but relations remained fairly superficial, largely because there was little the Stellar Empire could provide that the Kalderi actually needed. The swords, like the one they had rescued from Lord Armon’s estate, had been given to the leaders of the various noble houses when the Emperor at the time had established a ‘Treaty of Perpetual Peace’ with the Kalderi. Nobles that did not receive one had been quick to try to establish trade in order to secure them, and a certain amount of intercourse had ensued. While not interested in conventional trade good, the Kalderi did consume a certain amount of Human artwork. Trade was conducted erratically at systems on the edge of Kalderi space, and few humans had ever penetrated very deep beyond the buffer zone the Kalderi maintained, the memory of the Jeweled Armada enough to quell any notions of trying to force the issue.

“Do you have any information on the Kalderi? Diplomatically I mean?” Rene asked.

“Really all I know is from anthropology my tutors taught me,” he admitted.

[Syrenrei]

"They're more technologically advanced than we are, so there is a certain amount of deference given," she began slowly. Working as a diplomat required her to be more thoroughly educated on the history between the human race and other intelligent species in the galaxy than other citizens. There was a plethora of information on the Syshin, as they had been absorbed into the empire due to their subjective inferiority, but when it came to the Kalderi the foot was on the other figurative foot. There was an implicit understanding that the Kalderi, if they were so inclined, could obliterate humanity as handily as they had prior to The Collapse. Even the most pompous noble did not dare to negotiate the sale of precious pieces of art with a hint of arrogance or aggression. They feared the strength of the Kalderi just as they had made the Syshin fear them.

"That being said, while they are distrusting, they are not unreasonable," Solae asserted. "Officially we believe the Jeweled Armada could have continued on its path of destruction but elected not to do so. Merchants report that contact with them is cordial so long as they are fair with their exchanges. I'm confident they will not shoot us down on our approach," she elaborated as that was perhaps the most important point to make, "since they respond to aggression but do not themselves seem to incite it when they have ample opportunity." The buffer zone was maintained by the Kalderi but, when the odd ship drifted too close due to a navigational error or due a malfunction that culminated in loss of piloting functions, they were merely escorted out. Gaining an audience would be trickier, but they were significantly less dangerous to approach for a parley than the coup's forces.

"My theory is that in their eyes humans are an invasive pest that, unprovoked, murdered their colonists. Whatever empress or emperor was on the throne at the time would have swiftly retaliated had the Stellar Empire been the victim instead. There is no incentive for them to bridge an alliance, either. Humanity enslaved the other aliens they came across, which paints a callous picture, one of us as warmongers," the duchess explained. "If we can show them otherwise they might be persuaded to assist. They consume our great works, so they have interest in some of our endeavors, just not all. If we show humility and empathy it will be a side of ourselves that is more palatable. Having two Syshin guards will help prove we're not cut from the same cloth as Duke Tan."

"More selfishly, though, I want to be the one to bridge the gap," she admitted as she closed her eyes and let herself rest a moment. Her mind was still whirling through the images of her studies on the pre-Collapse expansion, but her body was relaxed, and the mattress felt heavenly beneath her back. "No one really tries. We're so self-focused we forget about all the wonders still out there," she added more wistfully, a quiet yearning in her voice. "I want to see what their cities are like, what animals are in their forests, hear their language, talk about what stories they pass down to their children, hear about the traditions of their ancestors, or what common ailments we have. I'd be happy just to have a tour, to shake their hands with a smile, and then leave to do battle against Duke Tan by ourselves. Wouldn't it be amazing to just say we've met them?"

The duchess fell silent but a moment and then gave an impish grin. "Do you think if the Kalderi married us that the empress would be forced to recognize it through any new treaties? We could make it an absolute necessity," she laughed lightly, ever-focused on cementing this union with her fiance. There were worse fixations a woman could have about the most important person in her life. Giving a sigh of resignation she curled up and looked at him more seriously.

"You're not well enough to take on a mission right now, so if we're going to recruit bodyguards before we're forced to leave Zatis, I may have to do this without you," she told him softly. "Rosaria and I won't be able to handle a shoot out no matter what weapons Ten can provide. I might have to... purchase them, or compel someone to let me buy them, as much as I would prefer not to support the business. If we're cheated then we can have a firefight," she suggested, "but not before." Rene would not be pleased with this plan. The duchess and the teenager were not soldiers and having them out of view for any length of time, while engaging in a high risk situation, was bound to make him exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Do you have any criteria for what we should be looking for? Traits that would be more beneficial than others? I trust your judgment more than Rosaria's in selecting someone with the right aptitude. I can gauge their general disposition but I'm less adept at analyzing physical and mental qualities that translate into the best marine material."

[Penny]

Rene considered the problem, idly stroking Solae with the hand on his uninjured right side. Occasionally the surgical unit prodded him as its tiny filaments continued their repair work with unflagging mechanical zeal. In theory the nerve blockers should stop him from feeling it, but like anything there was always a few kinks when humans were involved. It took him a moment to pull his mind back from a vision of a Kalderi Panarch presiding over a sumptuous and exotic wedding. Many nobles were content to live in luxury and indulge their own pleasures, or to play at the games of intrigue as a way of keeping score in their own convoluted game, but Rene couldn’t deny that the lure of adventure and exotic experience was a tempting one. Even if they couldn’t convince the Kalderi to help, it would be a safe respite from where they could make plans without worrying that Tan’s forces would find them.

“I suppose it is too much to hope for that Thorne has any Syshin commandos we could take off her hands,” he mused. What they could really use was an engineer, Rene had pulled maintenance detail on enough armored vehicles to be able to affect simple repairs, but he had only been able to keep the Bonaventure flying because nothing had gone badly wrong and because Mia’s powerful, if idiosyncratic, programing allowed her to guide him in more advanced tasks. Unfortunately prejudice like that which Ten had demonstrated kept Syshin out of the kind of institutions that would allow them to develop those skills. Prejudice and a combination of poverty and a lack of social integration at any rate.

“I think the fighting pits are a logical place to start, it sort of presupposes men and women in peak condition, though they might take some convincing. That might be something of an understatement, sentient beings that had been forced to fight for the amusement of humans might be less than enthusiastic about fighting for other humans, but Rene was confident that Solae would be able to win them over.

“I think the fighting pits are you best bet,” Rosaria informed them a half hour later as the sat in the gardens that seemed to intersperse Ten’s dwelling. The girl had a pistol in a hip holster, though Rene had instructed Ten not to give the girl any ammunition until he had time to give her instruction. Rosaria had not been pleased about the decision but had been somewhat mollified when Rene let her keep the unloaded gun. The last thing he needed was an untrained teenage accidentally succeeding where the Dukes assassins had failed after all.

“How well guarded are these pits?” Rene asked. Rosaria shrugged.

“Pretty heavily guarded, they don’t give the Syshin projectile weapons, but there are enough of them that if the guards didn’t have machine guns they might riot,” she explained.

“Do any of them escape?” Solae asked. Rosaria shook her head.

“Every now and again one makes a run for it, but they always get recaptured, Alayla pays a bounty for any Syshin trying to board a ship, quite a big one I understand.” Rene nodded his head, he had imagined that the slaves were kept in line by some kind of deterrent, perhaps implanted explosives, or tracking collars, he hadn’t really considered the notion that there was just no where for the aliens to go.

“How many Syshin are there in the pits?” Rene asked, he was laying in his bed but he had prevailed upon Criesta to attach a holographic console so he could make notes and at least feel like he was of some use.

“There are three major pits, two sort of public ones, and a third one they keep out of sight,” Rosaria explained.

“Why out of sight?”

Rosaria grimaced slightly before explaining.

“They do special fights, fights to the death, fights against exotic beasts that might cause a panic if the good people of Zatis knew they were on the planet,” Rosaria explaned, looking down at her manicure rather than meeting the eyes of either of the nobles.

“Stars above,” Rene cursed, glancing sideways to see the look of cold rage on Solae’s face. Alayla was wise to keep that out of the public eye, even on Zatis that might well attract Imperial attention.

“How many in each pit?” Rene asked, his own voice crisp and harder than he had intended to make it. Rosaria flinched slightly, even though there was no real reason for her to do so, she was just as much a victim here as the Syshin in her own way.

“It depends on the rock hoppers,” the girl explained, the voices tumbling out of her mouth in an effort to reach a less uncomfortable topic of conversation. Rene cocked an eyebrow.

“Rock hoppers?” Rene asked, “like mining ships?” Rosaria nodded. Rock hoppers were small craft used for mining asteroids for metals and, in some cases, water ice. It was dirty and dangerous work and in big systems the process was automated. Zatis was too small for that level of industrialization, though the refined metal could be exported to other more rural worlds at a handsome profit.

“You mean to tell me that Thorne uses Syshin for asteroid mining?” he asked incredulously.

“That is perfect, they might not exactly be trained spacers, but that is probably as much experience as most tramp freighter crew this far from the core worlds have,” he exclaimed sitting up in his excitement before Solae put a slender hand on his chest and pushed him gently but firmly back into his repose.

“They usually have a human pilot and an overseer, she keeps them in the ships for a few months and then brings them back to the fighting pits so they don’t lose too much muscle and bone mass,” Rosaria explained. Rene didn’t know what the girl would make of herself, but she was remarkably observant.

“She keeps them in zero-G?” Rene asked grimly. Rosaria nodded again.

Protracted exposure to zero-g was dangerous to creatures that had evolved in gravity. Muscle and bone density quickly plummeted and blood clots and other issues grew more common without gravity to aid the body in draining. After a few months without gravity a man could hardly stand in a full G, to be then thrown back into a fighting pit must have been particularly horrific.

“That still leaves us with the problem of getting to them,” Rene said considering the problem. Solae might be able to buy the slaves as she suggested, but it was dangerous to expose her to anyone related to Thorne, and Ten suddenly developing an interest would look just as suspicious.

“Alayla sells the services of some of the fighters to… paying clients,” Rosaria said in a guarded tone.

“What do you mean?”

“There are ladies of wealth who will pay for a champion to pleasure her, some men also, but fewer. Women find warriors appealing I suppose,” Rosaria said, cutting a glance between the two aristocrats.

“There are few guards on these ‘special visits’ usually just one or two.”

[Syrenrei]

Fortunately for the duchess and her beau, Alayla Thorne was not the sort of woman that bothered herself with personally arranging the 'services' of her male Syshin fighters with those that might desire a sordid distraction. Prostitution was not illegal on Zatis. In the greater Stellar Empire it was outlawed, with discrete individuals frequently circumventing notice or punishment, but it was a criminal enterprise that flourished on the outlying world. As such, it was customary for interested parties to make their requests and pay digitally to minimize overhead, maximize efficiency, and allow the veil of relative anonymity to remain intact.

Connecting to the planetary network brought up a variety of options for private meetings. Once Thorne's offerings were displayed the obstacles they had to overcome became more insignificant. Ten shuffled his funds around on a regular basis and all but a few accounts were untraceable, unattached to his identity, and disposable, as was typical of those in his profession. This left two choices: which two particular Syshin of the ones listed available they wanted to ask for and at which location. Being the shrewd businesswoman she was, Thorne would either send her slaves to a building she owned or a third-party hotel, but anywhere else required her review and approval, something they could not risk.

"Alayla uses numbers for the Syshin," Rosaria helpfully explained as they stared at the portraits. "The women have even numbers and the men have odd numbers."

"She has female Syshin?" Solae asked in mild surprise. The portfolio they were perusing edged on grotesque. There was a picture of each Syshin's face, which was understandable, but there were also images of their bodies clad in nothing but a loincloth, clearly meant to entice lonely souls. The aristocrats had been horrified, of course, but also curious as to why if she had no respect for her underlings why she did not make them pose nude. After a little while it became slightly more apparent that this was done to avoid giving away too much of the "experience" and add to an element of "mystery."

"Private servants," the teenager confirmed, "but not many. She sells most of them to her associates and partners. Alayla doesn't think that they are as good of fighters and they wear down more quickly on the rock hoppers." The reasoning was immoral but not factually wrong. Even with the Syshin, the men were larger, stronger, and more acclimated to hard labour tasks. Keeping the women could also add another layer of complexity if they fell in love with another slave or became pregnant. It was safer for someone in the trade to ferry the gender they did not wish to keep out to others to maintain order with minimal expenses.

"Do you know if any of these," the diplomat asked with a gesture to the screen, "were one of the ones that tried to escape and were recpatured? Or if any of them are more insubordinate than the rest?" One that had already been defiant enough to try to leave once might be more willing to trust in Solae than the rest. Either way it was a gamble, but she wanted to stack things in her favor if at all possible. The more desperate they were the more they would be willing to risk the 'devil' they didn't know rather than the one they did. She had not illusions that was how she would be viewed- just another demon exploiting the gentle race of aliens.

Rosaria looked uncertain for a moment before a number caught her eye. "That one, 427, I've overheard them complaining about him before," she said. It was obvious the youth was reluctant about taking on two bodyguards who harbored resentment for her ex-mistress and had enough muscle mass they could pose a serious risk if anything went awry. It was the duchess's absolute confidence in the Syshin- and her need to get off Zatis by any means necessary- that made her confide this information.

"We'll request 427, then," Solae affirmed before settling on another who looked more downtrodden than the rest and numbered 138. Rosaria was unfamiliar with him, and Rene gently inquired if she was sure, but the overflowing compassion in the linguist made her unable to look the other way. Number 138 might have the most melancholic expression but he was just as physically impressive as his peers.

"I'll schedule for tomorrow night," she declared as she finalized to have 427 and 138 sent to a hotel room that Ten thought was the safest given the other options. They would need time for Solae to don yet another costume, one that would make her unrecognizable for check-in and initial reception, and to prepare the methods of extraction. "Is Criesta still around?"

"Probably, why?" Rene asked with a raised brow.

"I think I have an idea for the guards that doesn't involve shooting," she disclosed. "Ambushing them would be difficult even in the best of circumstances, but we can't rely on a discharge not alerting someone that something is amiss; we should err on the side of caution," she elaborated more for Rosaria's benefit than the soldier. Solae could tell that the girl was disappointed though the recently-liberated protege knew better than to object before listening to the alternative.

"Is Criesta still on the premises?" she asked as she picked up the internal communication device for the compound. Ten had left their company when it became evident that Solae needed more than a few minutes to deliberate over what Syshin she most wanted out of the dozens Thorne owned. He had patience, but it was not endless, and he had things to oversee if he wanted to continue accruing his wealth.

"She is," Ten replied dryly with a hint of concern, "has Rene relapsed or torn open his wound?"

"No no, I need her expertise to help make a compound. Could you have someone connect me to her personal number? It's nothing she needs to be here for, at least not until it's ready for delivery," she told her benefactor calmly. Suspicion veritably radiated through the phone before he let out a sigh of resignation and there was a soft beeping noise to indicate the call was being forwarded.

"Criesta?" she said as soon as she heard it connect. "Is there any chance that you could make Sopor IV if I send you the formula?"

Sopor was a line of sedatives used almost exclusively in warfare and espionage. It could either be administered via ingestion if in a powdered form, which was slower acting and had a shorter duration, but was tasteless and odorless, or a injection could be utilized, which was obviously took effect more quickly, and was more potent, but was instantly discoverable by witnesses and the victim after the fact. It was one of many pharmaceuticals that a tolerance could be built up against, but only the nobility had the time and resources to create an immunity, and it was kept secret from the public this was even a possibility.

Solae did not have complete trust in Rosaria and guns could not be easily smuggled into her Syshin encounter. An injection device could. If they could bring Sopor IV, the newest and best line of the drug, and use that to compromise Thorne's guards, they wouldn't have to kill anyone. Not only that, if the teenager betrayed them in the 11th hour she would find the sedative worthless against the duchess and the colonel, and they would only have the inconvenience of trying to determine how to punish her duplicity.

[Penny]

“I don’t like it,” Rene said.

“Yes we gathered that from the three previous times you mentioned it,” Criesta said dryly, shooting a ‘how can you stand it’ look at Solae. They had moved back to the improvised operating room, although the plastic film had mostly been removed from the floors and walls, save for a few tags here hand there where the film had ripped from the staples that had been used to hastily secure it. Rene lay on the bed while Solae worked on a terminal, polishing the last few details of the false identity she had used to set up their rendezvous with the Syshin later that evening. Criminal organizations were less diligent about checking IDs than Imperial bureaucrats were, infact false identities were the assumption. The goal wasn’t to create an ID that looked real, but to create one that looked the right kind of fake. A bored rich woman summing it on Zatis could be expected to do certain things, while a gun runner could be expected to do others. Fortunately a low level transaction, like renting a couple of prostitutes for the night didn’t need much back story. Arrived on planet, temporary ID issued, visits a few restaurants and bars were all they needed.

After a night’s rest, Criesta had given Rene permission to sit up, though she still forbade him walking. The doctor appeared slightly disgusted at the rate of his recovery, the additional healing factors in his blood speeding the work of the medical unit still attached to his side. If asked, Rene would have said he was ready to run a marathon, even though that clearly wasn’t the case. The room had a slightly acrid smell of chemical combination as Criesta, following Solae’s careful instructions, synthesized the Sopor IV in a boxy looking device with a number of entry and exit ports. Although the machine could be used to synthesize tailored pharmaceutical drugs Rene wondered if it might also be used to create poisons that Ten might find useful. It seemed impolitic to ask.

“Would you prefer we just shot them?” Criesta asked as she drew a hermetically sealed phial from the device and held it up to the light. The Sopor IV was in powdered form, though the vial was bifurcated and held a pressurized compartment of saline that would instantly convert it to a liquid if required. She loaded the phial into a slender injector unit about the size of a tube of lipstick and passed it to Solae for her inspection. It was indistinguishable from the recreational units in use across a hundred worlds, this one had been modified to allow it to deploy either a powder, as a spray or, with the touch of a button, an injection as originally designed.

“Vastly,” Rene admitted bluntly, though he knew he wasn’t going to win the argument. There was no practical way to smuggle gunmen into the hotel, at least not without risking tipping off Thorne’s people that something was amiss. He would have suggested snipers, but they would be indoors and there was no guarantee of a line of sight. A slightly tipsy woman carrying a drug injector would raise no suspicion and gave her a perfectly reasonable excuse to get close to a guard. Using one of Ten’s people for the job risked giving them away, and more importantly would make it much more difficult for Solae to convince the Syshin that they should follow her. It was important that she be the one to liberate them, not some underling. Rene understood the reasons for the plan and recognised he was being irrational, he just simply didn’t like the idea of Solae risking her life, particularly when he couldn’t be there to help her.

The door to the room opened with soft chime and Ten stepped in wearing a dapper business suit. Rene supposed that a criminal kingpin got used to concealing his worries but he was impressed by Ten’s calm demeanor. Sheltering them meant risking not only the wrath of Duke Tan but also all out war with Alayla Thorne, and while perhaps his organisation could withstand Thorne alone, if their enemies made common cause, as well the might if Solae’s presence were detected, he would be infallabily destroyed.

“I have compiled the supplies you requested Colonel,” Ten said arching an eyebrow towards Rene. The soldier sat up and nodded. After they rescued the Syshin they were going to need to move quickly and that meant reaching the Bonaventure and getting off world.

“Are you sure you don’t need more? Cost isn’t an obstacle you know,” he explained. Rene shook his head.

“Cost isn’t the problem,” he explained, “It’s a question of what I can get past Bhasts guards.” Ten nodded in understanding. Rene’s plan for reaching the ship, hopefully without casualties, was a simple one, but it did limit them to one truckload worth of supplies. That would be enough food to keep them going as well as weapons and spare parts for the ship, but it would fall far short of what the Bonaventure’s holds could carry.

“I did make a few inclusions of my own,” the kingpin added with an amused grin.

“I made a few inclusions of my own, including a half million credits, split up into various denominations,” he added, his grin widening like a shark.

“I do hope that wont be a problem.”

Rene stared at the criminal for a moment and then barked a laugh.

“No problem at all, I’ll even write you a receipt.”

[Syrenrei]

"I have a gift of my own for you," Solae said, turning in her chair as she heard the illicit broker enter the room. She knew that Rene disapproved of how broadly she trusted Ten, despite all his help, but given the risky mission she was already undertaking later that evening, she knew that the soldier's frustration would be mitigated so as to focus his emotions on the greater imminent danger. The present of half a million credits probably also helped endear the criminal to the marine. "Before you get too excited, did you find me a new costume?" she inquired as she stood and crossed the study to where he was standing.

"I did," he acknowledged with a brow raised in intrigue. "Since a disguise is to be expected of a lady partaking in the services of male Syshin, I took the liberty of selecting something more adventurous, both to be in-line with what is typical and because I thought you might find it enjoyable." Ten snapped his fingers and one of his house servants rolled in a small display with a long bright blue wig in an unnatural hue, a dress that came to mid-thigh when standing upright and left little to the imagination with its plunging neckline, and a pair of stilettos that would unequivocally seal the image of a woman looking for a certain type of indulgence. It was tasteful despite approaching vulgarity. With a sly smile Ten glanced at Rene as he could only surmise how tortured the man would be to see his fiancee in such an ensemble and with no way to express his appreciation.

"You've outdone yourself!" Solae announced with a bright smile as she moved forward to inspect the rack. Another woman might be offended at the overtly sensual party outfit. She knew that she would not be committing any unforgivable sin that night, though, and so to her it was merely what she called it- a costume- something fun to lighten the weight on her shoulders. She dared not admit aloud that she was more scared of the hotel rendezvous than the embassy. With the embassy she had Rene beside her. His presence imparted a reassurance that no matter if they succeeded or failed they would do it together. At the hotel she would be alone to drug a guard, convince two alien strangers to trust her, and hope that none of them seriously harmed her in the process.

"Are you really going to wear that?" Criesta asked with an incredulous tone. She was beginning to doubt which one in the couple was more odd. To see a duchess so thrilled about attire that made her look like a tramp temporarily distracted her from her patient. Perhaps it was their highly irregular behavior that could be attributed to their successes. Not just anyone, she mentally conceded, could have accomplished as much as they had. One day she many very well see their likeness splashed across imperial advertisements as heroes that turned the tides of war. This was assuming, of course, their recklessness did not get them killed.

"I absolutely am going to wear it," Solae affirmed. "Thank you," she said to Ten before standing on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. Composed though he was, his surprise was still evident. It only doubled as she tugged on his arm, pulled out a small storage device, and pressed it into his palm. It was hard to say what was more perplexing- this undeserving sign of friendly affection or the produced item. Solae and Rene had so little to offer he had sincerely not expected anything in reciprocation.

"That is all the information I found in the Falia vault on the list of names you produced, the ones that work with Ralch," she told him. They had both known what had been provided to him prior had redactions- and he had not blamed them for that. They had held up their end of the bargain in procuring data that was helpful and he had given them the means to exploit it. To have anything more he certainly recognized as a generous gift.

"May I ask why..." he began slowly.

"When we're gone I want to make certain that we left you better off than when we came. There's nothing I can do to guarantee that Thorne and Bhast won't discover you helped us, but this will tip things back in you favor and... well, I can't say I approve of your business, but if someone in Zatis is going to be the one everyone is forced to respect, I'd rather it be you," she said with bluntly with her characteristic kindness.

Ten was silent a moment. To Criesta this was a sign he was deep in though and nothing more, but Solae and Rene, as nobles trained in the arts of the courts, they could see that he was moved by this declaration. The kingpin cleared his throat to shake it off before inclining his head. "Thank you," he said simply.

"I suppose I ought to get changed," Solae said. "Is there any chance the dresses from the other day are among the inclusions you made to our supplies?" she added with a faux innocence.

"Among other things, yes," he confirmed. "It would be a mark upon my hospitality if I did any less," he alleged, though it was more likely he had no use for the women's clothing after Solae was gone. They had been precisely tailored to her measurements. Not only that, he did not entertain female guests regularly as they were not his preference.

[Penny]

The Syshin and their guards arrived precisely on time. The hotel was a five story building in an irregular U shape that wrapped around a courtyard occupied by an elaborate fountain that was illuminated from the inside by concealed lights which colored the streams in a shifting prismatic of rainbow hues. The vehicle wasn’t exactly a limousine, more like a luxuriously appointed light truck. The place was somewhat shabby though it maintained an air of luxury by being flashy so long as one didn’t look too close, it was the perfect place for illicit rendezvous though, a perfection improved by the fact that the door men, somewhat threadbare looking footman in orange and puce livery, were clearly on the payroll. They did not look at the Syshin, dressed in furs and other items of costume meant to highlight their barbarity and strength, nor at the trio of armed guards that escorted the pair in through a service entrance.

“Well that is better than we expected,” Ten commented, the two of them as well as a sensor tech named Calden or Caulden were sitting in an office building across one of the broad streets. Fortunately the bright neon lights of Zatis necessitated polarized glass, which meant they could watch the building while invisible themselves.

Rene shook his head to clear it.The sight of Solae in her almost scandalous dress was enough to leave his head buzzing and various other parts of him very interested as well. Despite the fact that he was still being treated Criestia had reluctantly agreed that it probably wouldn’t do him any harm to walk around. She was less impressed that he chose to exercise this newfound ability by accompanying Ten to observe the mission, but Ten had agreed that it was probably easier for everyone than keeping him on the side lines completely. Rene scanned the scene with the scope of the heavy EM rifle Ten had given him, pivoting it on the bipod that rested on a desk so he didn’t have to support the weight. Unfortunately it would be all but useless once the Syshin and their guards were inside the building.

“Looks like three minders,” he said, using the comm unit to transmit to the small earpiece that Solae was wearing. It paired with an omnidirectional microphone that was disguised as one of her earrings so they could talk while the operation was underway.

“My guess is they will set two infront of your door and leave one at the end of the corridor to cover the elevator and the stairs,” Rene remarked. That was certainly how he would do it, even if the two door guards were taken out, the third man could cut down the would be escapees or call for backup and simply cover the door. The guards had to give the clients some privacy afterall. Rene forced himself not to grit his teeth, he didn’t trust Thorne’s guards to act professionally, and he wasn’t sure that the Syshin, about to be thrust into a very stressful and unfamiliar situation.

“Alright,” Rene said as the door closed obscuring the last guard from his sight.

“They are on their way up.”

[Syrenrei]

After what felt like an eternity of waiting filled with tension, there was a knock at the door. Solae let out a sigh of relief that echoed through her communicator as she summoned her courage and answered the door. Two guards stood in front of the taller and larger Syshin that they were allegedly protecting her from. The duchess in disguise stood aside silently to give all four admittance to the suite. One guard swept the room as a precautionary measure. He did not expect a lady looking for a romp with two aliens to be packing any weaponry; rather, he was combing the quarters to make certain there was no person whom had not paid hiding or items that might become improvised weapons to the slaves in question. They had to safeguard their property and income stream. The second of the two hired thugs delivered a monotone disclosure of what was allowed (nearly everything), what was not allowed (permanent harm and disfigurement), and the protocol for if she felt if she was in imminent danger. No matter how docile the pair of the males she had ordered seemed, they had superior strength to the lady wanting their services, thus the guards were responsible for protecting their customer if something went awry.

Truthfully Solae paid little attention to what they had to say. She nodded when appropriate, gave her verbal confirmation she understood their instructions, and ushered them out of the room as soon as it was pragmatically possible. No one so much as raised a brow at this. The guards had their share of overeager women impatient about shoving them out of the door, either because they were excited to get started or because they were haughty socialites that didn't care to be in the presence of, much listen to, someone of a lower station. If anything, her aloof behavior and desire to get them to exit further sold the ruse.

As she spun around to confront the two Syshin she found them standing together near the bed about to shuffle off some of the furs they were wearing. For a second she was so horrified at them undressing that she forgot how to speak. Of course they thought this was what they were supposed to do since every other appointment of this nature began with them being nude. "Wait- please," she managed, "that won't be necessary." This first sentence was spoken fluently in the tongue of the Syshin, but it was chased with mumbling to herself in the common imperial language. "How ridiculous. The Syshin wear woven fabrics, not furs."

It was hard to say what stunned the Syshin more: that she didn't want them to disrobe, that she used the word 'please,' that she spoke in Syshin, or that she knew enough about their culture to appreciate how inappropriate their outfits were. The one she recognized as 138 stared at her dumbfounded but afraid to ask any offensive questions. The braver of the two, 427, scrutinized her for several long seconds.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked in a rumbling voice deeper than most of his brethren she had encountered before. He was gruff but, given a history of wanton abuse, she would have been surprised if he had perfect manners. Rather than taking the liberty of assuming his leasor's intentions he waited directions.

"I want to apologize and ask for your help," Solae said in Syshin. There was a pervasive silence as 138 and 427 exchanged glances and looked wildly uncomfortable at this unraveling situation. They were still apprehensive that this was some sort of role play, but the respectful way in which she spoke and her humble body language was beginning to plant seeds of doubt that this was even remotely sexual in nature. No one had ever spoken their language much less offered apologies and requested help. Had they been human they might have pinched themselves to assure they were not immersed in a bizarre dreamscape.

"Our help?" asked 138 tentatively. "We don't understand..." he drifted off.

They watched with bewilderment and then stupefied expressions as Solae carefully lowered herself to the floor and then to her knees in a universal sign of contrition. The potency of this gesture was not lost on the Syshin. She was vulnerable and prone while they towered over her, the shorter of the pair well above Rene's genetically engineered height, with no apparent way to defend herself except verbally. "I want to apologize for the way you've been treated by humanity thus far. I can't begin to make reparations, but if you'll help me, I'd ask you both to accompany me as bodyguards when I leave Zatis."

"You did not bring us here to... mate?" inquired 138 curiously in a more mild, mellowed tone than his companion.

"No, I already have a mate. I brought you here because your mistress would not willingly allow you to leave and because it is important to me that you chose for yourself whether or not you accept my offer. You would not be slaves like you are to Miss Thorne. You would have your own bed, your own possessions, you would be able to voice your own thoughts, and you could end your employment if you decide you no longer wish to follow me," she explained while remaining in the same position.

"This is a trick from Mistress Thorne," the one called 427 told 138 in agitation. "No human would ever offer us freedom."

"We thought no human would learn our language," the other Syshin pointed out quietly, "and she knows our people do not wear furs, she apologizes, she kneels. Mistress Thorne would never hire someone like this."

After brief contemplation of the facts presented, 427 quickly strode forward and put one large hand around Solae's throat to test her convictions. She did not react. They stood there, the proud Syshin bent over, the duchess still as a statute with her hands at her sides in determination not to show she was violent. The linguist closed her eyes and wondered if her blind trust in strangers might be her undoing but mere seconds crawled by before she was released. 427 had to concede that she had proven her sincerity.

"Why us?" he demanded.

"Because the people after me are humans as well," she confessed solemnly, "and the rewards they are offering to other humans are great. Your people have only ever shown me kindness. I want to prove to the empire that you deserve more rights and recognition than any of you are currently given."

"Why should we believe you?" he asked as he stepped back and crossed his arms.

"If I am lying then you will return to Thorne's pits, but if I'm not, this might be your only chance, your best chance to escape. If you don't want to take the risk then I will leave. If you elect to come with me then we will incapacitate the guards and sneak off Zatis- both of you, myself, my mate, and a young girl that we have also freed from Thorne," she promised.

"I will go," announced 138 as he pushed past 427 and awkwardly lent his hand to Solae to help her stand.

"We will both go," added 427, "and we will see if you tell the truth."

[Penny]

“Incapacitate?” 427 rumbled. The Syshin language was considerably more specific that human Galactic when it came to terms of violence. The kind of ambiguity that a word like eliminate, or take out, might engender in Galactic wasn’t possible in Syshi, a poignant comment on humanity's more cavalier attitude towards violence.

“You do not wish to kill them?” 138 asked, his face clearly conveying confusion at this unexpected mercy.

“My friends and I prefer not to kill when it can be avoided,” Solae explained, profoundly underscoring the difference between herself and the minions of Alayla Thorne.

“Do you have weapons?” 138 asked glancing about the room with quick reptilian glances, though he must have known from the sweep the guards had performed that she did not. Solae drew out the injector unit she had prepared with Sopor IV.

“In a manner of speaking,” she said in a voice that was cold with the effort to inject calm. This was the most dangerous part of the plan, and with the exception of the two Syshin she was utterly on her own.

“Solae,” Rene’s voice sounded in her ear.

“There will probably be two outside the door and one at the end of the hallway,” he informed her, the fact that he was at least within communication range giving her some degree of comfort. She took a deep breath and opened the door. As Rene had predicted both of the guards that had swept the room stood lounging against the far wall, set off at about sixty degrees so their positions made an equilateral triangle with the door that they were negligently covering with heavy needle stunners. They tensed when the door opened but relaxed visibly when it was clear Solae wasn’t in any kind of distress.

“I forgot to ask,” she said in a deliberately embarrassed voice that meshed well with her identity as a rich woman out for a night of exotic passion. She lifted the drug injector so both men could see it.

“Do human drugs work with Syshin?” The question was a reasonable one, though the answer was far more complicated than any thug for hire could be expected to answer. The nearest guard, a slightly plump man with a receding opened his mouth to respond, probably with some variation of ‘how the hell should I know’, but before he had the chance Solae raised the injector and thumbled the activation stud. There was a hiss of compressed air and a jet of white powder that sprayed across the mans face. In a smooth motion she twisted the jet to the other stunned guard raking it across his head and neck for a second before the injector clicked dry. The guards coughed and one raised his stunner towards the noblewoman who slammed the door closed again a heart beat before a shower of needles hammer into it with a sound like hail on a tin roof. There was an angry shout and then the sound of first one body, then another hitting the floor. Gasping with fear but aware that to freeze up know would mean death or worse than death, Solae dropped to the ground and shoved the door open once more. Both guards lay in supine heaps on the cheap carpet, their eyes rolled back into their heads. The door struck against the body of the second guard but Solae grabbed the heavy stunner and yanked it inside before closing the door again. The weapon was unfamiliar to her and heavier than she imagined. Rene was saying something in her ear but she couldn’t make it out over the hammering of her own heart and the surging adrenaline in her system.

“I take,” 427 said in accented Galactic, forgetting in the excitement of the moment that his rescuer spoke his own tongue. He plucked the stunner from her hand and reached for the door. The Syshin pushed it open only to be greeted with the high pitched scream of stunner needles from the other end of the hall.

“... need back up… escape…” came a shouted call from the end of the hall as the thug called for back-up, wisely refusing to leave his position to rush to the door.

“We cant get out if he can pin us down,” Solae gasped, coming to her feet.

“We will come in and get you,” Rene was saying in her ear, his voice tight with concern and the compression that the small earpiece required.

“You can’t there is already going to be a panic,” she responded, rationalizing away a course of action that might cause her beau to injure himself, perhaps critically. The screams of other guests gave truth to her assertion as the sound of gunfire registered on the other denizens of the hotel. If Rene and Ten tried to storm the building they would have to fight against a tide of fleeing civilians, many of whom might be armed and inclined to open fire on strangers rushing towards them with firearms.

“We take care of it mistress,” 138 hissed, his voice hissing silabantly and his eyes slitting in a Syshin reaction to their own biological equivalent of adrenaline. He took two bounding steps to the center of the room and seized a large wooden coffee table that looked to be made out of some kind of polished timber, but was more likely a synthetic. He grabbed it by the edge and wrenched it upright, scattering ornaments and bricker brac in a clattering shower of plastic and steel. Without a word he hoisted it like a vast shield and kicked the door open, stepping out into the hallway with the table between him and the gunman. Splinters blasted from the table top as the Syshin rushed towards the gunman in a shuffling run that kept his hunched body behind the improvised shield. Solae and 427 followed close behind, the latter trying without success to line up a shot over his fellow slave’s improvised barricade. A door opened unexpectedly and a pinch faced woman in a revealing costume stepped into the hallway, catching the full brunt of the charging Syshin as well as another hundred pounds of table, she flew off her feet with an audible crack and 138 staggered for an instant, nearly dropping the table. For a split second there was nothing but empty air between Solae and the gunman and she had time to feel a sting in her calf before the arcing charges of the stunner contracted her muscles spastically, dropping the noblewoman to the floor in a quivering heap, the pulsing half second shocks keeping her down in agonized incapacity. 138 straightened, lifting the table to shield the trio and let out a weird warbling war cry and charged. Needles slashed into the table until the very last moment when the guard threw down his weapon and turned to flee. He was too late. The Syshin caught him between the table and the reinforced wall that supported the elevator shaft at a dead run, driving the table into the thug with the force of a moderate aircar accident. There was a sharp sound of cracking bone and a wet crunch as the guard died beneath the smashing impact. 138 bounced back from the collision losing his feet and sprawling to the floor, the toppling table, its top slicked with blood and studded with hundreds of sparking stunner needles, toppled back over him, landing on its legs as though it were some strange scuttling porcupine.

“I have you,” 427 said, kneeling beside Solae, his voice very loud in the sudden quiet now that the chatter of the stunner was quieted. His calloused fingers grasped the needle in her thigh and yanked it free, his body arching with the stuttering current for the moment it took him to throw the dart clear, smoke rising from between his burned fingers. The air was hazy and smelled of burning plastics mixed with blood and the sharp smell of high power capacitor discharge. Solae’s legs felt like flaming jelly and she certainly wasn’t able to stand, she could feel the carpet burn on the portions of her hip the dress had not protected during her fall. She certainly couldn’t stand and her jaw was clenched from the shock making it difficult to speak. 427, evidently having seen stunner injuries too often, seemed to understand that without words. He tossed the captured stunner to 138 and then hoisted Solae over his shoulder like a child.

“..fff...front… entrance,” Solae managed to groan and the two Syshin bounded down the stairs, leaving the bloody corpse and the two drugged guards in the hazy hallway.

_______________________________________

“... front … entrance,” Rene heard over the comm unit.

“Looks like they are in the stair shaft,” Calden said calmly. Rene wondered if the man had once worked for the Fleet, he was calm under pressure and seemed to know his business. He was using the distortion in the comm signal to track the movement of Solae’s transmitter, the computer console he was using interpreting the various radio waves to give rough position, a matter made easier by the faraday cage like interference of a metal shaft. Rene’s hand ached and he realised that he had been holding the grip of his rifle in a death grip for the last few minutes, a fact he hadn’t even been aware of until Solae’s transmission made it clear that she was passed the guards and on her way out. Ten let out a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding and then looked a little embarassed to be caught showing any kind of tension.

In the courtyard below a half dozen guests were emerging from the hotel, half running half walking and looking a little confused now that the sound of shooting had stopped. The driver of the heavy truck that had bought the Syshin stepped down out of the cab of his vehicle, his hand going to a weapon concealed beneath his loose gray garments. Rene swung his rifle onto the man, the holographic sight on the back of his neck but Ten reached out and grabbed the barrel, shaking his head. Rene opened his mouth to object but as he did so a non-descript man stepped from the alley and walked briskly towards the driver, drawing a small stunner from his pocket. He paused, aimed and shot the man twice in the back, sending the driver convulsing to the ground.

“Trust us Rene,” Ten admonished, “We have done this sort of thing before.” Rene cocked an eyebrow at the criminal.

“You have been responsible for a Sector Duchess while she freed Syshin slaves from blood thirsty crime lord on a planet filled with gunmen and mercenaries before?” Rene asked. Ten grinned toothily.

“Well when you put it like that…” Further discussion was interrupted by the sudden roar of an approaching aircar. Rene looked down the street to see a black vehicle with tinted windows dive out of the sky into a bobbling ground effect, at the same moment the pair of fur clad Syshin, one with Solae slung over his shoulder, burst from the front doors of the hotel. The surrounding people screamed in panic and then bolted as the Syshin carrying the stunner fired a burst into the air.

“Shit,” Calden snapped, his hands flying over his controls, “That car is carrying Thorne’s goons, she must have had them on alert with the…” but Rene was no longer listening. He swung his rifle towards the oncoming vehicle and fired. The muzzle blast scattering papers into the air like artificial snow and all but deafening the occupants of the small office. The window blew out into the street in a shower of glass as the shock wave hit it a moment after the bullet punched through it staring it to opacity. The aircar fishtailed as the shot blasted its rear stabilizer to scrap. The aircar was in ground effect so the torque of its fans didn’t send it into a spin immediately, but the driver had to haul on the controls to correct the tendency to roll to the right. Rene reffeded back the charging handle and chambered another round, firing a second round a heart beat after the first. The road beneath the car sparked with a ricochet and then the rear of the car tapped the concrete sending up a shower of orange sparks. It bucked for a moment and then there was a scream of grinding metal and then an explosion beneath the rear that flipped the car end over end like a tiddly wink battering it to scrap with its own considerable velocity. It landed on its rough thirty meters before the hotel, crashing into the short wall that encircled it in a spray of dust and grit. The pall of dust was lit with bluish white electrical shorts for a second and then went dark.

“How did you do that?” Calden demanded wide eyed. Rene shrugged coming to his feet and slinging the rifle. Ten touched the release stud of the rifle’s sling dropping the weapon to the ground. Rene glared at him but the kingpin was obviously taking Criestia’s orders not to let him over exert himself seriously. He didn’t suppose that Ten would have trouble finding another such weapon.

“I took out the stabilizer and then bounced a shot off the street into the fan housing,” he explained as Ten took him by the elbow, helping him to walk as they headed down the stairs to the ground floor.

“Stars,” Calden commented somewhat sourly.

“Are all Marine’s that good?” he asked. Rene shook his head, a little sadly, remembering the bodies lined up against the berm at the Rat-Trap.

“No, some are better,” he admitted.

The reached the ground floor just as the two Syshin carrying Solae reached the truck that had bought them to the hotel. The one with the stunner kept the weapon leveled at Ten and Rene as they hurried across the courtyard, splashing through the ankle deep fountain rather than running around it, sending ripples of light across the surface of the pool.

“We are friends!” Rene called, his eyes on Solae who seemed conscious but barely. The Syshin with the stunner sniffed at the air skeptically for a moment and then seemed to relax.

“You are her mate?” the lead Syshin asked. It was hard to make out his words, both because of his accent and the whine of alarms that the destruction of the aircar had set off.

“Her what?” Rene asked before realisation dawned on him and he nodded. Shyshin had a considerably better sense of smell than humans did and they tended to prioritize the sense somewhat as a result.

“Yes I am her mate,” he said, gesturing urgently to the truck.

“We need to go, can you…” but the Syshin was already laying Solae across one of the passenger couches. The man who had shot the driver climbed into the cab and bought the engine to life with a roar. Ten and the Syshin climbed into the back opposite to Solae and Rene. The passenger compartment was tight for all of them, but by unspoken agreement no one rode in the rear most compartment which contained the shackles which had been used to keep the Syshin prisoner. Rene ignored the others and leaned over Solae, checking her over for wounds before kissing her on the lips and whispering a prayer of thanks to the Stars. Blood ran from the center of an ugly bruise where a stunner needle had punctured her leg but it was just a trickle and not life threatening.

“You are ok,” he told her, wrapping her up in his arms. As he spoke the truck lifted from the ground and slid forward for a hundred meters before climbing into the busy night time traffic.

“Thank you,” he called the Syshin over the rumble of the fans. Both aliens looked perplexed, clearly unused to being thanked. He gave them what he hoped was an encouraging smile before turning back to Solae.

“You did it my love.”