“…and that’s the situation, as it stands,” Nalyra said, leaning back in her seat.
The Crown Daughter seemed to have regained her composure, now that they were safely back aboard her ship. But her posture was a little too straight, her shoulders a bit too rigid, to be relaxed.
“Fuck.” Mikka swore. “This throws a whole load of navar shit into the works.”
Tor’laen couldn’t really disagree with her assessment, despite still having no idea what a navar was.
After returning to the Aegis, Nalyra had ordered him to follow her and the pair had made their way to the High Deck. It was the Ydani’s first time entering the topmost part of the ship, and he could tell that it lived up to its name. If the Mid Deck was streamlined and functional, then the High Deck was luxurious.
Even the hallways and the doors were decorated, gold trim running across the walls. The CIC they were currently seated in, while perfectly functional, was also a thing of beauty. The layout was similar to the meeting room he’d been in just a day before, but everything inside was far nicer, more comfortable. The seats were cushioned and lined with velvet, and the holo table in the middle of the room was one of the most advanced pieces of technology he had ever seen.
They had been joined by the rest of the command staff — Vessa, Mikka, and Nivi. This room seemed like a common meeting place for the highest-ranking officers on the Citadel to meet, judging by how easily they made themselves comfortable. It made the Ydani wonder why he had been included.
“It does complicate things,” Vessa said, tapping a finger on the edge of the table.
“That’s putting it fucking mildly.” Mikka chuckled.
The Admiral caught Tor’laen’s eye.
“It seems you were instrumental in bringing the situation under control.” She nodded at him. “Well done.”
“Yeah, great work, champ.” Mikka snickered and made a curious gesture, hitching her thumb at him with a sideways jerking motion.
“Please refrain from making crude gestures in the present company, Mikka,” Nalyra sighed. “It’s beneath your station.”
“No idea what you mean.” Mikka threw her arm around the engineer sitting next to her. “Nivi, the Ydani, and I are all common-born.” She grinned. “You and Vess are the only ones with royal blood here.”
“You are a commanding officer on a Star Citadel, Mikka,” the Admiral said wearily, giving Tor’laen the impression that this was far from the first time they’d had this kind of exchange. “And I’m farblood, I barely qualify as Crown-kin.”
“Farblood?” the Ydani dared to ask.
“Yes,” Vessa answered, glancing over at him. “Crown-kin is anyone with a direct blood connection to the royal line. Nearblood are close. Farblood are…less so. Cousins several times removed, in my case.”
“Back to the matter at hand,” the Crown Daughter rapped a knuckle on the holo table. “It was certainly an explosive device, according to Tor’laen. So then our questions become ‘who’, and ‘why’.” She looked over to the engineer. “Nivi, you were able to retrieve the security data?”
“Yes, Highness, but…”
“‘But’?”
“The security recordings are just…gone. From this morning until about a bell before the explosion.” The younger woman explained. “And then, from when the recordings resume, not a single person enters the governor’s office before the explosion.”
“That’s not good,” Mikka muttered.
Nalyra drummed her fingers on the table.
“And the explosive itself?”
“Already there when the recordings resume. Inside a nondescript document case, left on the governor’s desk,” Nivi said meekly.
A few moments of silence filled the room, each member of the command staff contemplating the information.
“So we’re looking at someone with inside access.” Mikka was chewing on her lip slightly.
“Was this political destabilization, or perhaps destruction of evidence?” The Admiral asked.
Nivi shook her head.
“If it was an attempt to destroy evidence, it was a pointless one. The governor’s console was just a terminal. Everything she did was stored directly on the building’s server, which I have access to now.”
“We’re dancing around the big question here,” Mikka cut in. “Was this an attempt on Nalyra’s life?”
“There’s not enough information,” Vessa sighed. “Perhaps it would be better to wait for the peacekeeping force’s investigation on the explosive. Its composition might shed some light on things.”
Nalyra sat there, her eyes going back and forth between her officers, her face thoughtful. As if sensing Tor’laen’s eye on her, she turned her gaze to him.
“I would like to hear what our guest thinks about the situation.” Her voice was soft, silky. Dangerous.
Tor’laen took a moment to contemplate, brow furrowed, aware that all eyes in the room were on him.
“I agree that it’s too early to tell the intent of this attack,” he said slowly. “But that’s not the most concerning factor for me, at the moment.”
Nalyra’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
“If this was an assassination attempt, it was reckless. If it was political destabilization — brazen. But what if it were both?” The question hung heavily in the room. “The Crown Daughter’s schedule was no secret, but still — using what I assume was a timed explosive feels careless when any significant deviation from her itinerary would surely foil the attempt. What if…what if it were political destabilization, and taking out the Crown Daughter was just a bonus? A free piece taken off the board. That’s the most concerning factor in my opinion: the other party is so confident and so ruthless that they don’t care whether this particular attack succeeded.”
“You think it was timed?” Vessa asked.
“I don’t see what else it could have been.” Tor’laen shrugged. “It detonated before we reached the door, so it wasn’t rigged to that. And if it was remotely detonated, the assassin simply could have waited half a mark and blown it while we were inside.”
Silence fell over the room once more, as each of the women pondered the idea.
“A disturbing thought, to be sure.” Vessa was the one who broke it. “We will need to reevaluate our approach to the task.”
“That is correct,” Nalyra agreed. “At the very least, I intend to hold off on any public appearances for the next few ship-days. If my life is one of their objectives, there’s no need to make their job easier.” She added wryly. “Admiral, now that we have access to the files we should have had half a day ago, get the intel teams sifting through them first thing in the morning.”
“Yes, Crown Daughter.”
“I’ll keep pulling everything I can from their servers!” Nivi volunteered.
“Please do, Master Engineer.” Nalyra nodded. “But do try to exercise some restraint. Though we have precedent with this emergency, we won’t win any favors with the citizens if we’re seen openly ripping apart their servers.”
“Yes, Highness. They won’t even know I was in there, promise.”
“Mikka, I trust you have a plan as well?” The Crown Daughter looked to her Lieutenant Commander.
“Yup. Gonna send a few of my girls down dressed as civvies. I have a couple contacts already in the peacekeepers, and they’ll make a few more. Then, do some advising – these girls have counter-terrorism experience. They know what to do.”
“Good. See it done.” Nalyra ordered.
“Will do, Nalyra.” Mikka paused for a moment, then turned towards Tor’laen. “Alright, now that’s enough serious shit for right now.”
In the corner of his vision, he saw Nalyra roll her eyes.
“Nivi, give it to him.” The Lieutenant Commander nudged the younger woman.
The engineer pulled something out of the pouch on her belt and slid it across the table to Tor’laen, a smile on her face. The Ydani caught it, and picked it up. A small tablet rested in his hand, barely larger than the communicator he had been given.
“This is…?”
“It’s just a basic tablet, but I put a bunch of novels on it!” Nivi beamed. “It was Mikka’s idea.”
The Ydani’s gaze went to the red-haired Zakkili.
“It’s as much for me as you, trust me,” she chuckled. “Now instead of pestering me for duty schedules or orders, you’ve got something to do in your free time. You can read Zakkili now, right? Might as well use it.”
“I wasn’t sure what you might like, so I grabbed a bunch of novels that have been popular lately. I also threw in a couple of my personal favorites.” Nivi explained, pointing at the tablet.
“Well, thank you.” Tor’laen smiled at the pair. He hadn’t been expecting this, but it was certainly welcome. Whether the Crown Daughter approved or not, she didn’t say, just continuing to watch him carefully.
“Let me know what you think of them!” Nivi said excitedly.
“I will. You have my word.” Tor’laen paused for a moment, then glanced at the Crown Daughter. “Though, if you are looking for ways for me to entertain myself…I might ask if I can have access to whatever technology you used to create the furniture for my cabin.”
Nalyra arched a delicate eyebrow at the Ydani.
“You wish to use the fabrication facilities? Just what is it you want to have made?”
“You could call it…a keepsake, of sorts,” Tor’laen explained. The Crown Daughter’s eyebrow rose a fraction higher at that.
“Nothing dangerous or elaborate, I assure you. Just something to help pass the time,” he continued.
The Crown Daughter tapped a finger against the side of her chin.
“The engineers will have to look over whatever you intend to create, but…” Nalyra gave her usual predatory smile. “I suppose you have earned yourself a fabrication pass today, yes.”
“You have my gratitude, Crown Daughter.” Tor’laen gave a seated half-bow.
“Yes, yes. Noted,” she said airily.
Tor’laen gave a wry grin, as Mikka chuckled from across the table. He was slowly getting used to reading just how much of her behavior was the mantle of Crown Daughter, and how much was Nalyra herself showing through.
“Now then, fourth watch is nearly upon us, and I plan to retire to my quarters.” Nalyra stood, gathering herself up. “You all have your assignments. Dismissed.” Her gaze hovered on Tor’laen for a single heartbeat, then she turned, sweeping out of the room.
“C’mon, big guy, follow me.” Mikka got up as well, and beckoned to the Ydani. “You don’t have security clearance for the High Deck. I’ll get you back to your cabin.”
Tor’laen lay on the cot in his cabin, staring at the ceiling. He should be sleeping. Except for the night crew, almost everyone on the ship was likely asleep. But still, he lay there, awake.
The tension of the day still flowed through his veins. It had been a long time since he had been in a situation like that. Explosives, assassination attempts, chaos, panic. It had been decades. Not since the end of the war.
He had nearly died. That fact alone didn’t bother him, though. Death had never been too far from him throughout his life. But were he to die like that — perishing alongside the Crown Daughter — surely his people would be doomed. The Monarchy and a grieving Queen would shatter his people, rip apart their culture, claim their worlds.
And Nalyra would be dead. That idea bothered him. She didn’t deserve to go out like that, and the Monarchy would suffer from her loss. What a strange thought.
There had been a time, years ago, when the Zakkili were still a newly discovered threat to the Ydani, that he had plotted ways to strike at them. Along with the strategists of his people, he had schemed up methods of assassination, disruption, sabotage. Ways to make the Monarchy bleed.
Now, though? He thought of Corporal Saia, laughing at his reaction to the sweet confections they sold in the Under Deck. He thought of Nivi’s smile as she gave him the tablet full of novels. He thought of tables full of Armswomen in the mess hall, chatting, joking, and goofing around. He thought of Nalyra, absentmindedly running her thumb across the hilt of his dagger.
No. He would not allow these people, these citizens, to suffer. Would not allow the Monarchy to bleed, not when the lives sheltered inside it would bleed with it. Not if he had any power to prevent that. He would keep the Crown Daughter safe, and his people’s future alive.
Feeling slightly more settled, Tor’laen reached for the small tablet at his bedside. Time to see what Zakkili novels were like.