by M. D. Cooper
Given that the empress’s every word was always laden with hidden meaning and byplay, it was exhausting to decipher what the woman meant in even the most banal of conversations. After playing it through in her mind several times, the best Petra could come up with was that Diana was either terribly conflicted about their relationship, or she was adhering to the old adage ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’.
In all honesty, Petra didn’t envy the empress at all. Every aspect of her life was tortured nuance, and the Hand agent couldn’t help feeling a strong desire to hold and comfort Diana—though that feeling was usually squelched by the woman’s behavior.
It puzzled Petra that, despite the empress’s prickly nature, and despite the fact that she only ever seemed to run hot or cold, the ambassador couldn’t seem to help but still feel an attraction to Diana.
Much of the empress’s attitude and behavior was tied to how she’d ascended to Scipio’s throne shortly after the death of her father. Or, more specifically, starting with the death of her father—a murder the empress openly admitted to having personally enacted. Normally, Petra would not condone patricide, but in the case of Kal Trona, she was willing to make an exception. He had been an especially brutal ruler, born out of Scipio’s ever-changing political landscape.
Over the millennia, Scipio had meandered its way through every form of governance imaginable. Diana’s father had been a semi-oligarch tyrant. Ostensibly, he had been the president of the Scipio Federation, but he’d ruled it with an iron fist, changing laws as he saw fit to extend his reign.
When Diana had finally had enough of his tyrannical rule and killed him, the four prelates incited a civil war, each vying for control of Scipio. She’d intended her act to bring about a democratic election for a new president, but as the federation fell further into chaos, the now-empress cobbled together an alliance, staking her own claim as the supreme ruler of Scipio.
A bloody civil war had ensued, the end of which saw Diana as the victor, completing Scipio’s transformation from federation to empire.
Petra didn’t know that she would have made the same choices, but she didn’t fault Diana for what she’d done. The empress had saved a vast swath of humanity from tearing itself to bits—albeit with some surreptitious help from the Hand.
But now the empress was trapped on her throne.
When the current war was over, Petra would be free to leave both Scipio and the Hand. Far away in the Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy, there was a small plot of land that she’d been dreaming of for decades, and she intended to make a home in it.
Hundreds of light years from any densely populated system, on a planet where she’d have to walk a day to see another human….
Just to be somewhere I don’t have to worry whether or not my next words are going to throw an entire star system into chaos.
And that’s what made her feel for Diana. The empress would never know a life other than the one she currently had. Growing up with Kal Trona as a father had been hard, and now that she was an adult, the empress needed every ounce of steel she could jam into her spine just to make it through the day.
And that’s her life until she dies—unless something changes.
“Ambassador, how are you today?”
Petra looked up from her hands to see Rear Admiral Malachi enter the room. He angled around the table, striding toward her, and she rose, extending her hand to clasp his.
“I’m doing very well, Admiral Malachi. It’s good to have the move done.”
“Handy, too, what with the landing pad on the back of this spire,” Malachi said as he took a seat. “Better than the transfers we had to take to the old office.”
Petra laughed and nodded. “I’m still getting used to not having meetings like this in secret—and with Transcend admirals here in the flesh, no less.”
It was Malachi’s turn to nod in agreement. “I know what you mean. I never thought I’d see the day, but here we are, bringing warships from Inner Stars watchpoints out into the open.”
“How are the Scipians handling a hundred TSF ships jumping into the Bosporus System?” Petra asked.
She had a good idea already—her eyes and ears were everywhere in the system—but she was curious what the admiral’s take on the situation was.
“Bit of a mixed bag, Ambassador.” Malachi followed the words with a sigh. “Even though President Sera explained that only a few of our ships would be fitted with the ISF’s stasis shields, I get the feeling that the Scipians expected an invulnerable fleet of Intrepid-class ships to show up and cut a path clear to Sol.”
“I’d been afraid of that,” Petra replied. “Surely, High Admiral Melan wasn’t under that impression.”
“No, of course not. He has a firm grasp on reality, that one does. You know how it is, though. They saw the Ageus take an unbelievable beating and come through without a scratch. They were just hoping for ships like that.”
“And what of our ships that are like that?” Petra prompted.
“ISF hooked us up with stasis shield systems for fifteen ships,” Admiral Malachi said. “I have one assigned to each of the ten gates, and five more interspersed in the fleets. Per your suggestion, I’ve used scuttlebutt to spread the information that any unauthorized approach to the gates will be met by lethal force from those craft, followed by the destruction of the gates if needs be. So far, that’s held up.”
Petra’s lips twisted for a moment before she replied. “It’s only been three days since the gates came in. I certainly would have hoped no one would make a run on them in such short order.”
“Just being a realist, ma’am,” the admiral replied, turning to look at the room’s door midway through his statement.
Petra shifted her gaze to see Kory and three other senior members of her staff enter the room and walk to the opposite side of the table from Admiral Malachi. Kory sat to Petra’s left, followed by agents Harold, Gella, and Mains.
“Are any other members of your command coming?” Petra asked the admiral. “I expected General Farah to be here.”
“She stayed back in the shuttle for a minute,” Admiral Malachi replied, a frown settling on his brow. “She’s trying to bring a platoon down here to the spire, but the Scipians are giving her a hard time.”
“Seriously?” Petra asked, glancing at Kory. “I thought we had all the clearances in place.”
The man’s lips were pursed and he gave a curt nod. “I’m reaching out to the Impera Protego now. This was all squared away.”
“It’s what we get for doing things above board,” Mains muttered. “I could have brought that platoon down right under the Scipians’ noses. None of this approval nonsense.”
“Show of good faith.” Petra said the words for what felt like the millionth time. “We need to prove to the Scipians that we’re not spies anymore, that this is a normal diplomatic mission.”
Admiral Malachi caught Petra’s eye. “Can’t the empress just decree it? What’s the point of having a supreme ruler if they can’t rule supremely?”
“The Scipian political machine is massive,” she replied. “We need to convince it that we’re going to behave, otherwise it can thwart us at every turn. I can’t ask Diana to put out every fire.”
Well…” A grin slipped across Mains’ face. “So long as we choose to do things in the light, we can still just go dark and do whatever we want.”
“What we want,” Petra intoned, “is an ally that trusts us, and we them. That’s the whole reason for being here.”
Harold glanced at Mains. “Gonna take some getting used to…doing things out in the open.”
“Don’t go thinking it’s gonna be cozy, though,” Gella warned. “They’re not happy to know how deeply we sank our hooks into the empire. I’m getting hourly disclosure requests from Scipian agencies.”
“We stick to the original list of revealed assets and agents,” Petra advised. “Do we have confirmation from the remaining
assets that they’re going to stay covert?”
“Not yet.” A look of concern settled on Kory’s brow. “Most, but not all. A few Scipians are vacillating, their general sentiment being that, since we’re out in the open, they can come clean to their superiors.”
Petra snorted. “Stars…good thing most of them realize that working for a foreign power won’t be looked on kindly, even after that power becomes an ally.”
“Also a good thing most of them have no idea who they were really working for all along,” Gella added. “Advantage of the size of Scipio’s bureaucracy.”
“Are working for,” Kory corrected. “We’re not shutting anything down. There are still multiple Orion cells operating in this system. Keeping our gates secure is critical.”
Gella nodded. “Right. I’m meeting with a promising lead tonight. He might have a line on a guy in military procurement for Scipio’s 11791st who could be BOGA, or working for them.”
Admiral Malachi laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Do you really call it ‘BOGA’ out here in the field?”
“Sure,” Gella said with an exaggerated shrug. “We have to do what we can for fun.”
“Fun….” The admiral continued to chuckle. “You’ve all been in the Inner Stars for too long.”
The four Hand agents nodded, stealing glances at Petra.
“Boss is a real hard-ass,” Kory said. “Never gives us a day off.”
“You get days off all the time,” Petra countered. “Just takes longer than a day to get back to the Transcend.”
“Not anymore,” Gella replied. “Now that we have jump gates—”
“No.” Petra fixed the woman with a level stare. “With the civil war sweeping across the Transcend, we need to keep our focus here. I know how you are, Gella…. If you go back, you’ll be liberating systems from Airtha within a week.”
“I’d be damn good at it, too,” Gella muttered.
“The field marshal has a plan. Admirals Greer and Wrentham have backed her,” Admiral Malachi reminded her, sliding his gaze from Gella to Petra, who gave a stoic nod.
Everyone knew that Admiral Krissy Wrentham had once been a juggernaut in the Transcend’s military. She’d been headed for the top when something had happened at a key mining operation in the Inner Stars. It was said that she’d run afoul of the Grey Division, and her career had halted, leaving her guarding a star mine for the better part of two decades.
Petra had always suspected that something more was going on. Usually when someone ran afoul of the Greys, they suffered a precipitous fall, not stasis.
Either way, Krissy was back on the rise, in command of President Sera’s forces within the Transcend, tasked with putting an end to the civil war there.
All of which were things that Petra didn’t have the mental room to consider. Others would have to hold the rest of the galaxy together; her job was to keep Scipio intact and on task.
After Malachi’s statement, none of the Hand agents spoke. The admiral’s loyalties were not yet clear, and it wasn’t their way to force out information in a group setting.
Petra let the uncomfortable silence linger for a moment longer. She was about to speak when General Farah entered the room.
The lieutenant general was an AI, but chose to wear a frame that appeared human in every way. It was an especially advantageous skin to wear in Scipio, where AIs were only now—as a part of the Accords—gaining rights as full citizens.
“Sorry I’m late,” the general said as she settled into a seat next to Admiral Malachi. “I finally got all seventy-six agencies involved to sign off. It only took a modicum of threats, too.”
“Told you we should have done it the old-fashioned way,” Mains muttered.
Farah shot him a cocky smile and shook her head. “It only took me an extra twenty minutes. I don’t consider that a great hardship. Now we’ll have an officially approved strike force on the planet’s surface.”
“Neutered, I suppose,” Mains replied sourly. “I—”
“Full weapons platoon,” Farah interrupted. “You may know how to squeak things through the cracks, but it’s my job to bust through the center. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”
Alastar said privately to Petra.
she replied to the AI before addressing the group. “OK, folks. We have a lot to go over before our meeting with the Scipian admirals tomorrow. I want to make sure every angle is covered.”
* * * * *
“Ambassador,” Agent Harold said as the meeting broke up several hours later. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
Petra turned toward the quiet man, noting that his grey eyes were as serious as ever. With a nod, she activated a privacy shield and leant against the table.
“What’s up, Harold?”
He glanced at the retreating forms of Mains and Admiral Malachi as they left the room, and waited until the door closed before responding.
“Sorry, just being cautious…maybe overcautious.”
“Mmmhmm?” Petra nodded and gestured for him to continue.
Harold placed both hands on the back of the chair before him. “I think there’s a plot in place to assassinate you.”
Petra’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but bark a short laugh. “Me? I’m a target?”
“Does that surprise you?” Harold’s eyes narrowed. “You must have considered the possibility.”
She had, but she hadn’t shared it with anyone else other than Alastar—though from the security plans Kory had put into place, she knew he must be thinking about it as well. Granted, that was his job.
“Not seriously,” she told him. “Well, not as anything other than a means to strike out at Diana. But honestly, I expected a direct play against her first. Then, when that failed, whatever adversaries are lurking in the shadows would take the more circuitous route.”
“Unless there are multiple adversaries taking multiple routes,” Harold countered.
“What evidence have you uncovered?” Petra asked.
“I was investigating the Atlior Pacel,” Harold said. “The restaurant that you and the empress are going to tomorrow night.”
Petra cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Kory’s job?”
“It is,” Harold nodded. “I was following a lead in my hunt for BOGA agents. We never found enough people to account for the sophistication of the attack at the Celebration of the Seven Suns, and I was following a lead on a network routing expert that might have been involved. That took me down a rabbit hole. Anyway, when I came up, I found myself looking at maintenance logs for a relay node that serves the Atlior Pacel. I need to get eyes on for a manual inspection, but I believe that the node has been tampered with.”
“Well…” Petra pursed her lips. “I guess it’s good that our enemies are being so sloppy. But this looks like a strike against the empress, not me.”
“You’d think so,” Harold replied. “But the trail led toward an attack on your Link, not hers.”
She drew in a slow breath, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess I need to get used to being more of a target. Would the attack have worked?”
“No,” Harold shook his head. “It was intended to breach your Link with a dataspike that would only work on the hardware you appear to have. The spike wouldn’t have actually done anything other than knock your connectivity offline for a bit.”
“No…which makes sense, since you keep a pretty low profile.”
“You like it.” Petra chuckled. “Hiding out in my head is what you do best.”
“Now you just sound creepy.”
u.>
“I assume you neutralized the spike,” Petra asked Harold. “Pass me the details.”
“I did,” Harold confirmed, then sent her a data packet. “You know what this means, right?”
Petra shrugged. “That someone doesn’t like me.”
“Someone loyal to the empress,” he clarified, brows raised.
“Or someone loyal to Scipio. They’re not necessarily the same thing.”
Harold’s serious eyes remained fixed on Petra’s. “Are you going to change venue?”
“No,” Petra replied. “We’ll use this to try and catch our un-admirer. When they attempt to spike me, you’ll be waiting to backtrace.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “And should I warn the Impera Protego?”
Petra’s eyes narrowed and she bit her lip while considering the angles and repercussions of each. “No…it could be one of them who is trying to kill me.”
“And the empress?” Harold’s slightly widened eyes conveyed an unspoken volume of questions.
“She’ll be pissed…but probably not much more than if she had to change venue. Maybe nothing will come of it—or at least nothing she needs to know about.”
Harold nodded. “Very well, Director. It’s your skin.”
“Don’t I know it.”
FIONA
STELLAR DATE: 10.06.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Imperial Palace
REGION: Alexandria, Bosporus System, Scipio Empire
Prelate Fiona paused at the edge of a pond in the northern end of the palace gardens. She looked down at the still, clear water filled with colorful fish that darted about, chasing she knew not what.
Turning her gaze to her surroundings, Fiona realized that she wasn’t entirely certain where she was in the vast gardens. She could have consulted a map over the Link, but that would take the fun out of finding her way. There was no real risk in getting lost, as her guards were lurking somewhere nearby and would know the way back.
Not that she wanted to leave the garden any time soon. Over the past month, her duties as a Prelate of the Empire had grown tiresome and stale. Where once she had reveled in the political dance and endless maneuvering, now she hated the very thought of the intrigue.
