by Brian Dorsey
“I’m not so sure that’s not on her to-do list,” said Mori with a smile. “She’s already tried once.”
“That was before—”
“Joking, Magakisca,” interrupted Mori. “Just saying we’re not going to be…never mind. You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“Honestly, I’m glad you won’t be going.”
“Why?”
“I am concerned that this Red Wolf warrior has too much influence on you, Magakisca. I know she is brave and has what she believes to be noble intentions, but I am afraid she will resist you accepting your true self.”
Stone stepped away slightly, still holding Mori’s arms in his hands. “She only wants what is best for the Humani people.”
“But what if she is wrong? She is so angry and sees only revenge. Until she moves past that, she will never see the truth.”
“You must give her time, Ino’ka. She is…she…”
“I’ll do my best, Magakisca. But enough about her,” said Mori, running her hands over his chest. “I will be leaving soon, and we actually have a few moments together,” she added, dropping her combat belt to the ground. “We should take advantage of it.”
***
Martin paced back and forth at the entrance to Governor Maris Centius’s main residence. Using the need to interview one of Centius’s private security guards for her team, she had traveled halfway across Alpha Humana to meet with another name on Nero’s list. She glanced toward a security guard. He stood tall and proud, glaring at her with a scowl painted on his face. Martin held her gaze for a second and then looked away with quick chuckle.
Through the ivy-covered bars of the main gate, she saw a well-dressed man approaching. He stopped at the gate, giving a slight bow.
“I am Vena Tal, the Governor’s head of household affairs. Governor Centius will see you, ProConsul,” said the man as he nodded toward the security guard.
The gate slowly opened and Martin stepped inside.
“Follow me, Paladin,” said Vena, and the two began to make their way to the large villa about a hundred meters away.
Martin’s heart raced as she walked with the man; each of these meetings was just as likely to end in her death as it was with another ally.
“So you need to speak with the Governor regarding one of his security members?” asked Vena as they walked. “About what?”
“That’s for the Governor and me to discuss,” replied Martin.
“Of course, ProConsul,” replied Vena. “I am assuming this will be a short visit. The Governor is entertaining friends, but will obviously see an envoy of the ProConsul.”
“How very subservient of him,” replied Martin with a smile. “And it won’t be long, but I will need to speak to him in private.”
“Surely you can discuss the matter with the Governor’s guest…they are all First Family members of the highest standing.”
“Sure,” replied Martin. “Let me just contact the ProConsul and let her know the Governor’s butler thinks he is better at determining matters of intelligence security than she is.”
Vena nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I am sure the Governor won’t mind stepping away from his company,” he said as he stopped before two massive, wooden doors. “After you, ProConsul.”
Martin stepped into spacious room, decorated with antique furniture and artifacts. The villa was much more opulent than others she had seen—almost rivaling the Varus estate.
“This way to the dining hall,” said Vena with a wave of his hand.
Martin followed Vena through the large receiving room and down a short hallway. Near the end of the hallway, the sound of voices and light string music could be heard. She took a deep breath as she turned the corner.
A large table came into view. At the table sat Governor Centius and his wife, as well as two other First Family members Martin did not recognize. The Governor was graying and slightly overweight, but his body still showed signs of an active lifestyle, including several years in the Humani military.
“Ah, Paladin Martin,” declared Centius, looking up from the table. “I am told the ProConsul has sent you to take my best guard.”
“The ProConsul has sent me,” replied Martin. “But I must talk to you privately regarding the details, Governor…ProConsul’s orders.”
The Governor let out a chuckle. “Well, we must not go against the ProConsul’s wishes.”
“No,” replied Martin, not sure if he was being sarcastic.
She stood motionless for a moment.
“Alright then, Paladin,” said Centius, rising from his chair. “Two of my guests have yet to arrive, so the meal has not been presented yet.
Please follow me to my study, Paladin,” he said, his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness.
“Very well, Governor,” replied Martin. “We should—”
“Presenting Marack and Mrs. Vanara,” announced Vena, interrupting Martin.
Martin’s heart stopped. It couldn’t be them. Not now. Not here.
She spun around to see her mother, Nia, and the man she had left Martin and her father for so many years ago.
Their eyes met and Nia froze in her tracks, gripping Marack’s arm tightly.
“Paladin,” said Centius. “Is everything okay?”
Martin couldn’t move or talk. She hadn’t seen the woman who had brought so much pain into her life for almost two decades, and now she was standing in front of her. All of those years of pain and anger exploded from someplace deep within her, but she couldn’t react.
“Hello, Emily,” said Nia.
The sound of her voice brought her back to when she was a teenager. Her body grew hot as if her skin would catch fire. Martin instinctively stepped toward Nia, causing her mother to step backwards.
Martin stopped. She noticed her breath was heavy as she stared at Nia, still unable to speak.
“You know each other?” asked Centius.
The two women locked their gaze on one another.
“Lady Vanara?” asked Centius.
“We—”
“No,” replied Martin, interrupting Nia. “I do not know this…” Rage coursed through her veins, screaming for her to choke the life out of Nia. “…woman.”
“We were not aware that Paladin Martin would be here,” added Marack Vanara, placing a hand on Nia’s arm to calm her. “Perhaps we should reschedule our—”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Martin through her teeth. “My business here is done.”
“But we have not yet discussed your reason for—”
“I don’t want your guard,” interrupted Martin, her gaze still locked on her mother.
“But you—”
“I said I don’t want him,” barked Martin, turning her head toward Centius.
“Very well then, Paladin,” replied Centius, brushing off her gruff response. “As you are a representative of the ProConsul, would you like to join us for dinner before you leave?”
Martin could tell in Centius’s eyes that he wanted to talk to her. Maybe he knew about the plot already. Either way, it was too late. There was no way she could discuss the plot with anyone that friendly with the Vanara family, or her manipulative and opportunistic mother. Even if Centius was just socializing, Martin couldn’t take the chance.
“No thank you, Governor,” she replied, turning back to Nia and Marack. “I seem to have lost my appetite.”
“As you wish,” said Centius. “I will have Vena show you the way out.”
“I can find my own way out, Governor,” replied Martin. “Thank you for your time.”
Martin exited the room, walking past Nia and Marack. As she neared her mother, Nia slowly extended her arm to touch Martin’s. Seeing Nia’s hand, Martin quickly spun to one side to avoid her mother’s touch. She stopped, her body tense with anger as she stared into Nia’s eyes. So many things flashed through her mind. She wanted to tell her mother how much she had hurt her. That she had broken her father. That every part of her
being wanted to beat the life out of her.
But she said nothing. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of showing her just how much pain she had caused. With an exhale, Martin turned and walked away.
Martin made her way out of the villa and across the property to the ivy gate. At the gate she stopped and turned toward the guard.
The guard stared blankly at Martin.
“Open it,” she said.
“I haven’t received authoriz—”
Martin cut the guard short as she slammed him against the wall of his post shack. Pinning the man against the wall with one hand, she reached past him and activated the gate.
“Thanks,” she said as she stepped away from the guard and through the gate.
Once on the other side of the gate, she picked up her pace as she headed back toward her shuttle. With each step, the pain she had repressed in the villa grew stronger until she stopped, unable to catch her breath. Stepping off the walkway and leaning against the back of one of the large trees lining the way, she began to take deep breaths as the frustration and pain she had held back in the villa poured out of her.
Tears rolled down her face, and she let out heavy puffs of air as she relived the day her mother walked out on her family. She let herself remember the first time she saw her father passed out drunk, and recalled that day in the market with Marack’s asshole nephew. Turning, she slammed her fist into the tree, forgetting how sensitive it was.
Pain shot through her body like a bolt of lightning and she fell to the ground, letting out a groan of agony. Leaning against the tree, she grabbed her new hand with the other and breathed through the pain as she let the pain in her arm replace the pain in her heart. After a few moments, she pulled herself to her feet.
“Fuck her,” she said, dusting off her uniform.
***
“A Mr. Artemis to see the ProConsul,” said a Praetorian standing near Astra Varus’s chair.
“Let him in,” replied Astra.
The doors to Astra’s chambers slowly opened, and Artemis walked inside.
“Good evening, ProConsul,” said Artemis as he strode across the room.
“Halt!” ordered the Praetorian, stepping in front of Artemis. “The ProConsul has not given permission to approach.”
Artemis stopped. A smile came to his face as he looked around the Praetorian toward Astra.
“He may approach, Praetorian,” said Astra. “And you may take your leave.”
“Yes, ProConsul,” replied the Praetorian before exiting the chamber.
“Your watchdogs are very protective, ProConsul,” said Artemis.
“They would not be good watchdogs otherwise, Mr. Artemis.”
“I find loyalty to be a little too…predicable.”
“And that is why I pay you what I do, Mr. Artemis.”
“And that’s why you get information like I have for you today, ProConsul.”
“Well then, what do you have for me? Start with Martin.”
“I haven’t found anything to report, but I would caution you, ProConsul. Her hatred for the First Families and for you specifically is evident…but I don’t think this is news to you.”
“She is a loud, arrogant, disrespectful piece of street trash…but she is also deadly, and I think she may hate Stone more than she hates me. These loyal-to-the-end types take betrayal hard, and Stone being painted as a traitor crushed her. She will have no other focus until he is dead.” Astra paused. “And she is one of those rare breeds of killer who thinks every violent, rage-filled atrocity she commits is part of some grand gesture of service to her people.” A smile came to Astra’s face. “Don’t worry, Mr. Artemis. I will never trust her. And I have put measures in place beyond hiring you to keep an eye on her…but I will definitely use her until she is no longer needed.”
“Then I guess you will be more interested in the other information I have?”
“The Dorans? Yes, tell me what you have for me.”
“The agents I placed in the recreation houses have begun to send in reports.”
Astra leaned forward from her chair. Hopefully she would finally gain the edge over her Doran watchdogs. “Go on, Mr. Artemis.”
“I have full reports here,” continued Artemis, handing a data chip to Astra.
Astra took the chip in her hands. “What are the highlights?”
“The Dorans don’t seem to have any plans that directly involve Alpha Humana other than that they were directed by the Xen Emperor to support you.”
Astra let out a quick sigh of relief. At least they weren’t after her directly. “What else have you learned?”
“The Dorans are having internal political problems.”
“Interesting,” replied Astra.
“It appears there is a power struggle between the two Doran Kings involving settlement of new planets.”
“And how does this affect Zorlar?”
“His cousin, King Vali, readily agreed to provide this force in hopes of gaining Xen favor in the dispute. It appears the other King, King Bal, died about one standard year ago, and after a small power struggle, his eldest son, Ja-li, came to power. Vali had supported the other son, which caused bad blood between the two lines. Once in power, Ja-li authorized settlement of a planet that had been nominally assigned to the Southern multi-polis—Vali’s people. Vali protested, but Ja-li still allowed the first settlers to land. Now Vali has sent his own settlers to a nearby location. It is apparently a tense situation, but Vali has appealed to the Xen for arbitration. This expeditionary group is a show of his loyalty to the Xen Emperor.”
“With the Dorans still in open conflict with one of the Terillian tribes, the threat of civil war must be very taxing on their leadership,” mused Astra. “Zorlar’s performance could directly impact the Xen decision to support his King’s claim on the settlement issue.”
“That about sums it up, ProConsul.”
“So it holds true that once again: there’s no better way to get information from a man than though his penis.”
“Money’s not the only thing that makes the worlds go ‘round, ProConsul,” replied Artemis with a smile.
“Does that mean you’re asking for a bonus, Mr. Artemis?” asked Astra, running her hand down her cheek as she leaned forward from her throne.
“From what I’ve heard, that would be quite a bonus, ProConsul…and most likely my downfall.”
“Afraid of flying too close to a star, Mr. Artemis?” she said, rising from her chair and walking toward Artemis.
“Not at all, ProConsul,” replied Artemis. “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”
“You think too much, my clever little spy,” she said, running her hand over his cheek.
He grabbed her, pulling her close. “You can’t think too much when power, money, or sex is involved, ProConsul.”
Astra let out a light gasp but let him press his body against hers. She wasn’t sure if she was doing this to make sure she had control of him or just because she needed the release.
“If you have to think about sex,” whispered Astra, “you’re doing it wrong.”
Astra felt a bolt of excitement shoot through her as Artemis slid his hand down her side onto her rear, squeezing tightly.
“So, ProConsul, which is it? Are you trying to seduce me to make sure you have control of me…or do you just need a good rogering?”
Astra let out a moan as Artemis grabbed her hair and pulled it tightly.
“Either way, Mr. Artemis,” replied Astra, gripping Artemis’s crouch. “You’ve given me information I can use and now I am offering you something you’ll never forget.”
She stepped away from Artemis and began walking toward the private exit leading to her personal chambers. A few meters from the door she stopped, turning back toward Artemis. “Are you coming, Mr. Artemis?”
Astra turned and continued to walk away, a smile coming to her face at the sound of Artemis’s footsteps walking her way.
Chapter 12
&nbs
p; Senator Luecentius Malius glanced to his right, then to his left. The chaotic noise of the Mt. Castra market place sounded like drums pounding inside his head but was nothing compared to the beating of his heart. His head covered by a hooded cloak, he quickly made his way through the textile venders. Everywhere he looked, it seemed there was a constable or a military guard. Since the enactment of martial law, the subtle elements of control of the Humani civilization had become overt, day-to-day manifestations of the ProConsul’s power.
“For your lady,” shouted an adolescent boy, shoving a roll of cloth in Malius’s face.
Malius stepped away from vendor, turning his head.
“C’mon mister,” pleaded the boy, tugging at Malius’s cloak.
Malius gripped the cloak tightly, holding it over his head as he rushed away from the boy. “Let me be, boy,” he grunted.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Malius threw himself against the wall at the edge of the market. Breathing heavily, he looked across the frothing sea of humanity in front of him. Scanning to his left, he saw it. A small red circle with a line through it painted on a building a few meters away. Pulling his cloak even tighter, Malius took a deep breath and pushed his way toward the mark.
Reaching the building, Malius turned quickly down a tight alley. The smell of smoke, aging meat, and urine burned his nostrils. Trying to keep his head down, Malius crashed into something and fell to ground.
“Watch where you’re going!” shouted a large man as Malius felt himself jerked to his feet and slammed against the wall of the alley.
Malius looked into the dark eyes of a large, bearded man. The smell of alcohol permeated the air around him as he spoke.
“Aren’t you a fancy—”
***
Martin drove her boot into the back of the knee of the man pinning the Senator against the wall, sending him to ground. Martin pivoted and sent another boot to the side of his head, knocking him unconscious.
“Don’t hurt me!” pleaded Malius as he cowered against the wall.
“Damn it, Senator,” cursed Martin. “It’s me. And what part of ‘don’t draw attention to yourself’ didn’t you understand?”
