Nalyra staggered as the shockwave hit, her eyes snapping shut. Her ears rang painfully, and the force drove the breath from her lungs.
The room was silent for a heartbeat, before it filled with the sound of panic and screaming.
Nalyra slowly opened her eyes to find the Ydani crouching beside her, his body curled protectively around hers. His bicep filled her view, his folded arm taut, protecting her face and head.
Slowly, he eased away, and her eyes fixed on what remained of her sister’s office.
The doors hung open, one dangling on a single remaining hinge, the other little more than a mess of splinters and debris. The inside of the room was blackened and shattered, and a few small flames burned on some of the remains of the wooden furniture. A mess of wires hung from the ceiling and, as she watched, a few more pieces of the ceiling tile fell to the floor.
Nalyra stood there, stunned. Ten seconds. If she had been talking with Takil for ten seconds less, she would be dead. There was no doubt. She would be dead, and there would be one more black-shrouded chair in the Conclave. Her breath grew shallow.
The Crown Daughter had been in dangerous situations before. It came with the title. No Crown Daughter outside the High Fortress lived a truly peaceful life, least of all a Royal Hand. Danger was simply part of the cost of commanding a Star Citadel.
But this was the first time she had faced death so suddenly, so certainly. Stared it straight in the eye, now still breathing only by sheer chance. Her crownthreads shivered.
She didn’t resist as the Ydani shepherded her into a corner of the lobby, putting walls at her back and his own body between her and the room. His gaze swept over her. It was efficient, clinical. Checking for burns or other obvious damage.
Finding none, he turned to face the chaos.
Smoke had filled the room, but was slowly clearing, being pulled into the filtration system. Coughing, crying, and the noise of people scrambling to get clear added to the cacophony of sounds.
“Silence!” He barked, his commanding voice cutting through the panicked voices and shrieks.
“The building needs to be sealed. You, corporal,” he pointed to a nearby member of the militia. “Take a squad and seal the front entrance. No civilians in or out.” He shifted his gaze to another cluster of Zakkili soldiers. “You, do the same for the rear entrance, and you, the service entrance.” There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt.
“Sergeant, gather a full squad of your militia. I assume there’s an armory nearby – get there at double-time. Gather some weapons. Something with high-powered optics if you’ve got any. Get to the roof and keep watch on the streets. Stay on the radio. I want callouts for any approaching groups or individuals, or anyone acting strange near the building.”
The woman in question just stared at him, perhaps unable to process this towering alien suddenly giving orders. Nalyra quickly pulled herself back together.
“He speaks with the authority of a Crown Daughter,” she called out, peering around his broad body. “See it done!”
That got people moving. The peacekeepers the Ydani had indicated started hustling, gathering squads of their soldiers and leaving the room. They still looked uncertain, but uncertainty no longer mattered. A Crown Daughter had spoken.
“You lot, by the door!” The soldiers there jumped as he barked orders at them. “Get outside, make a perimeter. Keep any civilians away from the building, and direct any approaching troops inside. This will be temporary command. Send them here.”
He turned to the remaining soldiers.
“Half of you, start sweeping the building. Radio in anything suspicious. Start with the meeting hall.” He gestured to the other half of the women. “Once it’s clear, get every civilian in the building rounded up. Gather them in the hall. Keep them in small groups. You don’t need to hold them at gunpoint, but I don’t want anyone wandering around now, got it?”
The room was moving cohesively now, scrambling to follow the Ydani’s orders. He stood with his back straight as a rod, arms folded, looking out over the chaos as if it were his command deck.
“You and you, get those fires put out, for fuck’s sake.” He ordered, sending a pair of Zakkili scurrying for nearby extinguishing equipment, pulling open the emergency case.
Miraculously, there didn’t seem to be any seriously wounded. She and the Ydani had been closest to the explosion when it went off. No one had been inside that office. Or at least, no one should have been.
The communicator chimed at her waist, and she grabbed it, accepting the call when she saw Mikka’s name displayed.
“Nalyra, are you alright?” The woman’s voice came from her device, her tone deadly serious. “I’m hearing reports of an explosion over the local frequencies. What the fuck happened?”
“There was…there was a bomb, I think. In Taira’s office. I’m—we’re not hurt. No one is.” Nalyra explained, speaking into the communicator.
“I can get a couple squads of Armswomen and be down there in minutes.”
“No.” Nalyra shook her head reflexively. “Not now. We’re already halfway to a mass panic. The last thing people need to see are squads of soldiers landing from the Citadel.”
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“Are you sure, Nalyra? I imagine the militia forces down there are running around like headless navar right now.” Her Lieutenant Commander’s concern was obvious.
“It’s fine, Mikka, really. Things are under control. The Ydani—Tor’laen has command of the peacekeeping forces.” Nalyra returned, trying to put confidence back into her voice.
There was a moment of silence from the other end of the call.
“Understood Nalyra. Request that you keep the Aegis informed on the situation.”
“Noted.” The Crown Daughter ended the call, slipping the device back into its place. Her fingers brushed the dagger before she rested her palm on it, the feeling of the cool metal helping her refocus.
“Come,” she commanded. “We will inspect the aftermath.”
“Understood, Crown Daughter.” The Ydani—no, Tor’laen, seemed to still be in his commander mode. He moved protectively in front of her, as they walked to the entrance of the ruined office.
The room was a mess, as was to be expected. Nalyra looked around, fury building inside her.
Taira’s office was gone. Her sister’s hand-carved desk, the shelves which held little trophies and gifts from her citizens, her small library of old-fashioned books. All gone, blown apart into countless pieces. This room, the room where Taira had dared to dream of a new kind of future for the Monarchy and its people, was destroyed. Reduced to ash and splinters.
“Her dream will not follow this path as well.” Nalyra murmured.
“It looks like the bomb was on top of this desk.” Tor’laen was kneeling by the wooden wreckage, inspecting it. “Moderate yield for its size, I’d guess. No sign of shrapnel — this wasn’t a fragmentation explosive.”
“Is there any possibility this wasn’t a bomb?” Nalyra asked, moving next to him. “Perhaps a gas leak, or a malfunctioning device?” The questions were ridiculous, absurd even, but she had to be sure.
“With this kind of damage, Crown Daughter? Not a chance.” Tor’laen shook his head. “This was unquestionably a deliberately made and placed explosive, even if the reason behind it isn’t yet clear.”
The unspoken idea behind his words lingered. I can’t say if this was intended to kill you.
“This can’t wait for the bureaucratic approach.” Nalyra said grimly. “A bomb was just detonated inside the capital building. Inside the governor’s office.” She pulled the communicator from her side and tapped out a quick message to her Master Engineer. “I’m going to have Nivi override their firewalls, and pull all the security data from the past two days.”
Tor’laen was still staring thoughtfully down at the site of the detonation, his golden eye narrowed.
“If possible, I think we should take a look at the civilians gathered in the building.” He said slowly, not looking up.
“You think whoever is responsible is still in the building?” Nalyra asked sharply, but he just shook his head.
“Sabotage and terrorism aren’t my area of expertise.” He turned to look at her. “But I know a thing or two about managing morale. Those people are probably terrified out of their minds right now. An appearance and reassurance from a Crown Daughter would likely go a long way in their eyes.”
Nalyra caught on instantly.
“And make them more willing to cooperate, or share what they know. Yes, I agree.”
Within a few marks, after Tor’laen had cemented the chain of command and appropriated a peacekeeper’s radio, the pair stood in the immense meeting hall of the building, looking over a crowd of civilians. As the Ydani had predicted, the people were scared, nervous. Fear bled out of them in waves, an almost overwhelming amount. Nalyra had to retreat a little into her own mind to block it out, before her hands started trembling from the shared feelings.
Around seventy-five citizens, a mix of government officials and visitors, huddled on the benches of the room. All eyes fixed on the Crown Daughter.
“As you may have seen, or heard from others here, an explosive device was detonated inside the capital building mere marks ago. I am certain that no one here was responsible for this incident.” The crowd seemed to breathe a little easier. “However, some of you might have seen or heard something connected to this act, and perhaps you still do not realize it. Therefore, each of you will be interviewed by the peacekeeping forces before you leave. I trust you will share your activities and observations openly and truthfully with them. Let me make this clear – as of yet, no one here is being arrested or imprisoned. I know that you are all loyal and faithful subjects, both of Orphila and the Crown. That loyalty and faith is both seen and valued by the Monarchy. Let us work together to discover the truth of this incident, and deal justice to those responsible.”
Nalyra stepped back, and the crowd visibly relaxed. Some of them even moved eagerly to start talking to the peacekeepers, volunteering information. Tor’laen had been right. It should have irked her more.
The Crown Daughter turned to find the Ydani briefing some of the soldiers in the room, repositioning them as more troops filtered in. The wariness on the Zakkili peacekeepers’ faces was almost nowhere to be found now, and they followed his orders immediately. He noticed her approach.
“The captain of the city’s militia should be here in the next few marks. I’ll be handing command over to her,” Tor’laen reported.
“Good. I’ll have the results of these interviews sent directly to the Citadel.” She sighed. “We’ll have to keep the citizens in the dark, but until this incident is resolved, the Aegis will be forced to essentially run the government. There’s too much at stake here to follow non-emergency procedures.”
“Martial law is something I’m rather familiar with.” Tor’laen chuckled dryly, then sobered up. “For the sake of the citizens, it’s best that this gets taken care of quickly and quietly.”
When the pair left the capital building, the situation was once more under control. Already, peacekeeping troops were inspecting the bombed-out office, carefully documenting every piece of evidence.
The entire building was under guard now, every visitor needing to be searched before entry. The captain of the peacekeeper force had made several grand promises about operational security, crackdowns and checkpoints.
Nalyra had merely smiled and nodded. In truth, the matter was essentially out of the woman’s hands already. However, as Nalyra kept reminding herself, appearances did matter.
By the time the Crown Daughter and her bodyguard were on a shuttle heading back to the Aegis, the sun had long set on the capital.
Nalyra leaned back into her seat, breathing a small sigh of relief. Back to her kingdom. Back to safety.
A thought wormed its way through her mind. A memory. The sound of the explosion. The feeling of the shockwave hitting her. She shuddered slightly. She was trying to banish the memory when another pushed its way into her thoughts.
A red-skinned arm, weathered but strong, in front of her face. Protecting her.
With a small huff and a flick of her ear, she banished that memory as well. At least, mostly.