Tor’laen sat at one of the long tables of the mess hall. He was making his way through some kind of fried dish, with oblong, tan grain pieces mixed with a variety of vegetables and meat. It was quite tasty. As usual, the Zakkili utensils felt small in his hands, but he was starting to get used to that. Perhaps at some point, he might ask Nalyra or Vessa if he could get some larger utensils, but it wasn’t exactly a pressing matter.
The ship was once again in subspace, en route to some planet called “Orphila”, or at least that’s what the Crown Daughter had said over her announcement. If anyone was concerned with the reason the ship was heading to that planet, he hadn’t heard about it. It seemed the crew’s trust in their Royal Hand was just that strong.
The table next to him was full of Zakkili Armswomen, all still in uniform. The smaller, green-skinned women were chatting away happily, talking about a bar in the Under Deck from what he could gather. They kept on shooting him furtive glances, but it didn’t particularly bother the Ydani. He felt like he had earned that level of curiosity. Couldn’t exactly hide his horns or skin color, really.
It wasn’t until a trio of the Armswomen brought out some kind of card game that Tor’laen’s attention really honed in. He kept their game in the corner of his eye, watching as the three women exchanged cards and friendly banter over the table. A strange sense of longing settled in his stomach.
He had never wanted a Dominion set in his hands as much as at that moment.
A tray slammed down across from him, hard enough to jolt Tor’laen from his thoughts. He looked up to find Corporal Saia sitting across from him, a thunderous look on her face.
“That two-timing little shit!” The corporal muttered, snatching up her fork.
Tor’laen’s eye widened a little bit, slightly taken aback. He had marked the corporal as an even-tempered woman. Something must have really upset her.
“Corporal?” He asked, looking her over.
“Sorry, man.” She glanced up at him. “It’s just…fuck.” She stabbed a chunk of meat vindictively, as if the morsel had been offending her.
Tor’laen was vaguely aware of the Armswomen at the neighboring table, now all giving the unusual duo the side-eye. Apparently, their curiosity outweighed their subtlety.
“Something the matter, Corporal Saia?” He caught her gaze as she looked up. “My people have a saying – ‘anger kept trapped slowly rots the light inside’. If you need someone to talk to, or perhaps talk at, I’m happy to listen.”
It was an offer he had given countless times to new recruits, new additions to the Outrunner Fleet. Men and women eager to fight, quick to bicker, and unsettled by the looming threat of the Zakkili.
Besides, the corporal had helped him out quite a bit the other ship-day, and he was happy to return the favor.
“I guess. Maybe talking about it would help.” The corporal heaved a sigh. “It’s just so…damn stupid!”
Her face held equal parts anger and shame. Tor’laen could recognize those emotions easily enough, even without the slight Press that seemed to roll off her, seemingly unintentionally.
“Take your time if you need.”
“I guess…” The corporal pushed her fork through her side dish, moving the food around aimlessly. “I thought me and him…I thought we had something, you know?”
“I’m guessing a problem with a male?” Tor’laen asked, brow furrowed, trying to bring the conversation back to more familiar territory.
“‘A male’?” Saia sputtered slightly at his terminology. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I was seeing a guy, and it turns out that he’s warming another lady’s bed on the sly. Couldn’t even be bothered to tell me about it, either.” She sighed.
“He was being unfaithful?” Tor’laen’s brow furrowed. “Weren’t you two life-partners?”
“Oh no, nothing like that. Thank the Maker.” The corporal chuckled. “Just casually dating. But still, I thought we had something stronger than that.”
“I assume ‘dating’ has something to do with courting?” Tor’laen said slowly, trying to filter the unfamiliar term past the Zakkili in his head. “But then why would you do it casually? Is it not the purpose of courting to find a partner for life?”
“By the Maker, sometimes you talk like an old geezer, Tor’laen.” A small smile had returned to the corporal’s face. “But no. Sometimes you just want to enjoy dating someone, without really thinking about the future. ‘Course, that doesn’t mean you should fucking cheat on them.” She took a particularly angry bite of meat.
Tor’laen let the silence sit, taking a few bites of his own food as well.
“So is it different for you Ydani?” Saia asked after half a mark, glancing up at him.
“Among my people, yes,” Tor’laen answered. “The purpose of courting is to assess how compatible you might be with a partner, and whether your personalities fit well together. The whole process before…” He paused, unable to find a word in Zakkili for the ceremony of bonding the light of two citizens together. “...before the final commitment usually only takes a measure or two.”
Long courtships were a luxury his people couldn’t afford during the war, and the practice had lingered afterwards.
“Fast moving people, you Ydani.” Saia raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back down at her plate. “We didn’t even last a full measure…” She muttered the words, resting an elbow on the table, and leaning her head on her hand.
Tor’laen was about to comfort her when his communicator gave a soft chiming noise. He pulled it off his belt, glancing at the screen under the table.
Meeting. Here. Now. was printed on the screen, with the room number for a location on the Mid Deck. The Crown Daughter certainly wasn’t a verbose message writer.
The Ydani glanced up at the corporal, his eye bouncing between her and his communicator. He felt torn. He would love to stay and let the corporal vent, but Nalyra had been very clear that she expected him to respond to her messages…promptly.
“You gotta go, right Ydani?”
One of the Armswomen from the next table over had apparently noticed his plight.
“Go do what you gotta do.” Another chimed in, sliding over to their table. “We’ll hear the corporal out about her boy troubles.” The woman gave him a cheeky grin.
“You have my gratitude, ladies.” He gave them a grateful nod, receiving a chorus of giggles in return.
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The Ydani wasted no time returning his now-empty tray to the kitchen, and making for the exit. He glanced back as he left, getting a glimpse of the women now clustered around Saia, who was apparently giving a fairly dramatic recounting of her woes, judging by her exaggerated gestures.
Tor’laen simply smiled to himself, then set off to find the room listed in Nalyra’s message.
The Ydani found the room indicated in the message, about halfway towards the front of the ship. He slipped inside the open door, and found a moderate-sized meeting room. The middle of it was taken up by a large, low table, shaped like an elongated hexagon. Holographic emitters were just barely visible, sunk into the surface of the table. A ridiculous amount of them, by Tor’laen’s reckoning, for a seemingly average meeting room. It was probably more than the bridge and the CIC of his old vessel had combined. The walls were covered in more conventional display units, their screens currently dark and empty.
The seats in the room were nearly full. The Crown Daughter was there, of course, and all of her command staff, except the engineer. Nivi, he believed her name was. Several members of the bridge crew were there as well, higher-ranked officers judging by the sigils on their uniforms. Tor’laen was a little surprised to see the priestess who had been present at his interrogation. He hadn’t seen her since that day. The woman glared at him, a mixture of suspicion and dislike on her face, with just a hint of fear. Oh well. He wasn’t expecting a warm welcome from everyone.
Mikka caught his eye, and threw a lazy wink, before jerking her head at the empty chair next to her. Aware of more than a few sets of eyes on him, the Ydani made his way over to the Lieutenant Commander and sat down in the too-small seat, trying to force his knees under the low table. Mikka gave a snicker next to him, laughing at his attempt.
At first he had thought the woman was an irreverent slacker, but he had seen the truth of her during the rescue operation. Types like her weren’t common among the Ydani – his people valued discipline too highly – but they weren’t unheard of either. Soldiers who focused like a laser when it came to combat, while acting almost foolish outside it. He probably wouldn’t have tolerated someone like her in his ship’s hierarchy, but he also couldn’t deny her value. And she seemed to have taken a liking to him, for some reason.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, the Crown Daughter stood up at the head of the table. Planting her palms on the surface, she leaned forward slightly, eyes traveling across the room. Tor’laen thought that the woman paused for a fraction of a second when she met his gaze, but he had probably just imagined it.
“As you are all aware, we are currently en route to Orphila. We will exit subspace just outside the planet’s orbit within the next bell.” She swiped her fingers across one of the screens built into the table, and a hologram of the planet appeared, hovering above the table, wispy clouds traveling across its green surface.
“Now, as for why we are headed to Orphila…I have kept the reason restricted as a security precaution. I trust everyone in this room to understand operational secrecy, and from here on out, we will be operating on a need-to-know basis.” Nalyra took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She opened them once more, her gaze fixed on the hologram of the planet. “Within the past span, the Planetary Governor of Orphila – Crown Daughter Taira – was assassinated by an unknown party.”
That dropped the temperature in the room by more than a few degrees. Even Mikka sat up straight, her usual lazy grin replaced by a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw.
“Officially, we are arriving at Orphila with the mission of stabilizing the situation, and assisting the planet’s government in restoring control and calm to the population.” There was a heaviness in her eyes as she talked, her gaze still fixed on the hologram. “Unofficially, I have been tasked with identifying the Crown Daughter’s murderer and any organization that assisted them, and delivering judgement upon them. A task which I have eagerly accepted.”
There was hunger in her face, mixed with a subtle grief, which slightly twisted Tor’laen’s stomach. Feelings he knew all too well.
“Vessa.” Her eyes went to her Admiral. “I’m leaving you in charge of the Aegis. I want you running through Orphila’s finances, visitor logs, imports and exports, Q-comm messages…anything you can get into. Have our intelligence team tearing it all apart if you must. My authority is yours to wield. Get me something that pertains to a means or a motive.”
“Yes, Crown Daughter.”
“Mikka, you’ll be the liaison for the planet’s peacekeeping forces.” Nalyra shifted her gaze to the red-haired woman. “Offer them assistance, personnel, shuttles, whatever they need to keep things under control. Take care, would you? You know how…sensitive these militia types are about someone usurping their authority. But if you must…”
“Loud and clear, Royal Hand.” The grin had returned to Mikka’s face. “Promise I won’t yank any mindthreads unless I need to.”
“Good.” The Crown Daughter’s attention switched to the robed Zakkili, the priestess. “Soreth.” So that was her name. “I want you to depart for the planetary capital’s central church at the first opportunity. Frame it as a mission of compassion. Get a read on the atmosphere, and let your crownthreads taste the room. I trust you can remain inconspicuous.”
“Yes, Crown Daughter.” The woman had a determined look on her usually aloof face. “The Maker spares no love for cowards and assassins.”
Tor’laen was more than a little impressed. While he was a veteran commander, his area of expertise was purely tactics, strategies, and combat. He surely would have floundered in this type of political arena.
It made him wonder just what he was here for.
Several pairs of Zakkili eyes went to him, and he inwardly cursed at the leak of his confusion, trying to lock down his thoughts and feelings. A completely novice mistake to make in a room full of psychics.
“Ah yes, our Ydani guest.” Nalyra had that predatory smile on her face once more. “I do believe it is time you start earning your keep.”
Tor’laen straightened up. If he had a role to play, then he would play it, to the best of his abilities.
“I will be making a number of highly visible public appearances in the capital. A show of reassurance that the Monarchy is taking the matter seriously. You will be accompanying me as my bodyguard.”
Tor’laen’s brow furrowed at the unexpected orders, but it was Soreth who voiced the question running through the room.
“The Ydani, Crown Daughter?” The priestess asked, careful in how she framed her unease. “Would you not be better served by a squad or two of Armswomen?”
Nalyra seemed unsurprised by the question, as if she had been expecting it.
“I am both a Crown Daughter, and a Royal Hand, coming to a planet after its governor, my sister, was assassinated,” she said slowly. “Being seen with squads of armed Citadel soldiers is not a message I would like to send.”
“Then why not have the Lieutenant Commander escort you?” One of the officers interjected, concern clear in her voice.
Nalyra closed her eyes. Her voice was calm, but it was clear her patience was running thin.
“Think about the planet we are arriving at, Officer Savi. Orphila has quickly become the symbol of Zakkili and non-Zakkili equality for the entire Monarchy. What better message to send than a Crown Daughter, arriving with only a non-Zakkili bodyguard for an escort?”
A few murmurs went around the room. Mikka had a thoughtful look on her face.
“Not to mention, the Ydani are easily the most physically imposing race we’ve yet discovered. I imagine just having him there will act as a strong deterrent for any agitators or malcontents. And if not, I’m sure our guest here can handle the situation if an incident were to occur. I can’t imagine the Ydani would promote someone to captain unless they are competent, no?” Her gaze found Tor’laen’s, her voice lowering into an almost dangerous purr.
Slowly, he nodded, returning her stare.
A slight mental touch tapped his mind, Nalyra’s eyes flashing. There were no words, only a brief burst of feelings, but they were easy to interpret: Her survival was his people’s future. Do not forget that.
Before he could respond, the deck gave a subtle lurch beneath his feet. Everyone instinctively grabbed the table or their seats as they could feel the Aegis return to realspace. A speaker somewhere in the room came to life.
“Royal Hand, we’ve arrived at Orphila.”
Nalyra straightened up.
“Thank you, helmswoman. Transmit the optical array feeds to this room.”
“Yes, Crown Daughter.”
After a moment, the screens on the walls turned on, showing what the cameras on the exterior of the vessel were receiving.
It was a bit disconcerting for Tor’laen. As if the entire room was now floating in space.
All eyes turned to the far wall, where a massive planet now hung, suspended in the emptiness of the empyrean. That must be Orphila.
The pieces were in place, and the Crown Daughter was making her opening moves. The Ydani knew he might be just one piece of many on the board, but he would carry out his duty nonetheless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tor’laen saw Nalyra’s face. It was full of that same mix of hunger and grief. She murmured quietly into the still room.
“We’ve arrived.”