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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/635276-Calm
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by Hobble Author IconMail Icon
Rated: XGC · Book · Action/Adventure · #1527579
A distant future. A disgraced soldier. A psychotic killer. The fate of the galaxy.
#635276 added February 11, 2009 at 4:04pm
Restrictions: None
Calm
Calm


         Kenshi found himself being woken early four mornings before Cindelliac by a loud beeping blaring off next to him.  It was a few seconds of grogginess before he realized what it was.  Alanya. Trying to escape again.


         ‘Dammit,’ he mentally cursed as he ran toward the door, not bothering to throw his jacket on over the dress shirt he’d been too tired to take off the night before.  A knock came before he even reached the handle, stopping the Terran in his tracks and sending the confusion of grogginess uncomfortably back into his head.  He opened the door.


         “Hi,” Alanya said nervously before Kenshi had the chance to so much as register who she was.  She’d changed into a casual dress since he’d tucked her in last night and in her arms sat the borrowed Boragarian coat he’d thrown over her exposed body.  “Here’s your coat back.”  She lifted it toward him and he slung it over his shoulder.


         “Thanks.”  There was a second of her biting her lip and him examining her.  “You alright?”


         “Yeah,” she said quickly.  “Fine...”


         “Good.”  Kenshi turned and started closing the door.


         “Sorry,” she called out suddenly and he stopped.  When he looked at her again she was still biting her lip.


         “Don’t...”


         “I mean I was just annoyed and it was so stupid and I coulda gotten us killed and it must have been such a pain to find me and...”


         “Don’t worry about it,” Kenshi interrupted.  “It’s my job.”  He pushed a smile onto his lips.


         “Oh.  I...ok.  I...just...sorry.”


         “Forget it.”


         “...ok.  Just...don’t tell my father.  Please?”


         “The emperor would flay me if he knew.”


         “And I’d be in even more trouble than you...”  Kenshi had to chuckle.


         “I seriously doubt that.”  Silence between them.


         “I’ll come over when I’m about to go somewhere,” Alanya said finally, nervousness still etched into her tone and features.


         “See you around.”  He grinned, she smiled and turned away and he shut the door after her.


-------------------------


         Appointments were the same today as they had been the last few days, minus Benjen and Relina’s excitable presence - the two had taken the day to “become more acquainted with the nobles” their age.  An endless line of people trying to make themselves recognizable to their emperor came and went with nervous smiles and easy laughter.  It should have been flattering, but Berin only wondered how so many nobles could fit into the Ball.


         ‘The same way they did last year,’ he told himself as the latest appointment walked out of the room with a veritable skip to his step.  “Send in the next appointment,” he called through his intercom.  Craderly’s answer was an unpleasant surprise.


         “Mr. Wagner here to see you, Emperor.”  A second later and an old bulldog of a man opened the door.


         Jack Wagner was a Terran, but hardly a traditional one.  While many of his race were fit for battle as had been worked into them generation after generation, Wagner was a chubby old man with a hardened, but sociable, look upon his face.  White hair was smoothed back over his head and contrasted well with his perfectly tailored black suit.  True he was no soldier, but Wagner hardly needed muscle.  He was an agent from the CIA, an ambassador of sorts they used to tempt the emperor.


         “Hear you’ve been having theft problems recently,” Wagner said with a smile.  Berin clenched his jaw.  Little doubting what this was about.


         “And as usual you know more than you should.  Did Baker tell you?”  Wagner scoffed.


         “Of course not.  We told the councilman well before your “secure” message could reach him.”  Berin felt his entire body tense.  This man aggravated him perhaps as much as Aiston Malcom.


         “What are you doing here, Wagner?”


         “Quite simple, really.  My people want such a leak no more than you do.”


         “So the same, only with a new excuse.”  It was always the same request.  Had been since the Terran War ended.  The CIA wanted to become an official part of the government which could drastically increase their influence - something that didn’t seem all that small to begin with.  As it was now they were an outlaw group with nothing to have pinned on them, just like the thousands of other supposed intelligence groups in the galaxy dying for the emperor to give them a chance.  Berin wouldn’t mind the information they provided if the group wasn’t so careless in morals as to how they received it.  To accept any of their help would be akin to making them an official part of the government.  Morality was the way to rule and to accept otherwise was to accept corruption.


         “This is a dangerous thing,” Wagner said with a frown.  “Our people know the danger even more than you.  We shed the blood to stop it the first time.”


         “Yes and thank you for that.  It sure has helped with the situation.”  Wagner scowled.


         “Basic morality has no place in war.  You would push the greater good aside and for what?”


         “People’s lives,” Berin said.  “Morality has a place everywhere we let it.”  Now Wagner did smile.


         “And now lives are on the line.”  The white-haired bulldog took a package encased in brown paper from his coat and set it down in front of Berin.  “A gift,” he said to the emperor’s questioning stare.  “Without strings.  My people hate what would come from a renegade titan much more than you.”  Tapping the package once, Wager turned tail and exited the room.


         ‘CIA tricks,’ Berin thought, moving to throw the package into his dematerializer.  ‘I open it and some sensor shows I’ve “accepted their help.”’  But he stopped last second from dropping the packaged paper.  ‘What if I truly need their help in this, though?’  Quickly he opened a drawer and shoved the package deep inside.  Berin rubbed a hand across his face for a moment, wondering what he was doing.


         He closed and locked the drawer tight and said through the intercom, “Send in the next appointment.”


-------------------------


         “Tell me you are close,” Malcom demanded as soon as the door shut.  “Have you found him?”


         “No,” Ruki said.  She was playing the lifeless part again, Davnick knew.  It was strange seeing as how only minutes before she had been her “charming” self.


         ‘Has to be bipolar,’ Davnick realized.  ‘Fucking crazy’s fucking crazier than I thought.’


         “What is it you are...”


         “He might not even be here yet, Malcom,” Ruki interrupted.  “Don’t get your panties in a twirl.  If he’s around I’ll find him.”


         “I dislike my life being on the line, pirate.  You failed your last job and now you are failing your ne...”


         “Due date’s not up. If Tamaki’s not here he’s not here.  He will be, though.  I guarantee you that.  If you didn’t want your life on the line you picked the wrong line of work.”  Malcom clenched his jaw.


         “And if he...”


         “Forget it.  It’ll get done better without you on my back.  I figure a leader should know that better than anyone.  Guess I was wrong.”  Malcom turned a bright shade of red, but said nothing.  Davnick could almost see the noble motioning for the two bodyguards behind him to take Ruki’s life, but everyone in the room knew that was a bad idea.


         “Get it done,” Malcom said coldly.  He scowled at Ruki, took a disgusted look around their accommodations and left them.


         “I wonder if he was born with that twig up his ass,” Davnick said as soon as the door shut once more.  Ruki grinned up at him.  Back to her old self.  The merc had to wonder if she switched it on and off at will or if Malcom truly grated on her nerves that much.  ‘Probably both.’


         “No, I think it was an implant,” the pirate replied.


         “Ah, yes.  I can see him with such an operation.  It takes a very special doctor for something like that.”  Ruki laughed and Davnick grinned.


         “Have you found anything?” she asked.  Davnick shook his head.


         “Nah.  You?”


         “Nope.”


         “You think he’s here yet?” Davnick asked.  “I mean, in the castle?  Waiting for...something.”


         “Yep.”


         “Why?”  She grinned up at him.


         “You try predicting someone’s moves for three straight years,” she said.  “You start to get good at it.”


         “How’re we gonna get him then?  I mean, he’s obviously well hidden.”


         “Why, using the oldest trick in the book of course.”  Davnick shot her a puzzled look.  “Bait.”


-------------------------


         It was well into the afternoon when Alanya finally decided to leave her room.  Her choice, she would have stayed locked up for another week curled in her blankets with only a novel to keep boredom at bay, but hunger called and she didn’t look forward to her mother nagging her about holing herself up for days on end.


         Walking across the hall, the young princess knocked twice at the door and waited.  And waited.  She knocked twice more.


         ‘Where is he?’ she asked herself, momentarily frightened.  He hadn’t left her now...had he?  She knocked again.                                        


         “What’s wrong?” a raspy voice drifted from down the hallway and Alanya jumped.


         “I...I...was about to go for dinner.  Where were you?”


         “Walking the grounds.”  Alanya nodded and bit her lip, staring uncomfortably anywhere but at Desmond himself.  “Lead on,” the bodyguard said after a moment.


         The princess flushed and turned away, partly to keep him from seeing the red in her face and partly to begin the long walk.  Behind her a few paces she heard the clapping of Desmond’s shoes against the stone floor - the only sound in the hallway.  Together the pair made their way toward the keep’s extravagant restraunt.  Not nearly so accommodating as some of the restraunts in the city, but comfortable and classy.


         ‘And filled with a lot of good memories,’ Alanya thought as the hallways slowly began to crowd more and the pair came across a trio of children chasing each other in some game.  Like she, Benjen and Relina used to before politics became all-important.


         Alanya and Desmond were seated immediately upon entering the half-empty restraunt, given a booth with a nice view of one of the Marble Keep’s more regularly attended courtyards.  Right away they were handed menus and ordered drinks - her a cup of cider and him a cola.  They were still browsing through the menus when Desmond, surprisingly, broke the silence.


         “Are you planning on meeting anyone?”  She looked up at him, but his eyes were already back on his own menu.


         “No.”  She continued watching him to see him raise his eyes and an eyebrow.  “I’m sure Father and Mother are too busy meeting with nobles and God knows Benjen and Relina are too caught up in the excitement to come down for a dinner with their sis.”  He lowered his eyes once more then closed the menu and looked back up at her.


         “There’s nobody else?”  She bit her lip.


         “No.”  Alanya looked down to her own menu, made her selection and set it beside Desmond’s.


         “Why did you get into this line of work?” she asked suddenly, just trying to kill the silence, but finding she was honestly curious about his answer.


         “That’s...complicated.”


         “Don’t you have anyone else?  A wife or girlfriend or anything?”  The look he gave her was even more emotionless than usual.


         “I don’t have such luxuries.”  These simple answers were killing her, but Alanya couldn’t stop her curiosity.


         “Why not?”  He smiled then, a sad sort of grin which, for once, made it’s way up to his eyes.


         “Guess you’d just call it bad luck.  Doesn’t matter.”  He looked up then, past her shoulder just before a waitress appeared.  They quickly ordered, chicken for him and a pasta for her, and went back into a short silence.


         “How did you become a soldier?” she asked at last.  He chuckled.


         “How did you become a princess?”  Alanya cocked her head and was about to ask when he continued.  “Born into it.”  She nodded in understanding.


         “It is a good thing my father ended that war.  I think it might have been one of the greatest things he has done, which is saying something.”  Desmond clenched his jaw and Alanya gave him a confused look.  “What?”


         “Nothing.  It’s...nothing.  It was good he ended the war and few of us are not grateful.”


         “You aren’t?”


         “I am.”  Alanya continued to stare.  Did he have some sort of problem with her father?  She decided it would be best not to find out.


         Quiet stretched until dinner arrived and even then few words were said.  Alanya found her bodyguard had a strange way of not looking at her most of the time.  His eyes remained alert behind what she realized was a bored facade, but never did they rest long on her.


         When both were finished the young princess put her thumb print on the electronic bill and the pair stood up to make their way back to their abandoned corner of the large keep.  By the time they reached her room Alanya was ready for more sleep.  She opened the door, stepped inside and looked back to see Desmond closing it in front of himself.  Putting her hand on the edge, she stopped him.


         “Wait,” she said.  Her bodyguard opened the door a bit.  “I wanted to ask you...how have you been able to find me all of these times?  I mean, you’ve always found me when I’m up to something so...how?”  He gave her a small grin.


         “Smart girl,” he rasped quietly.  “There’s a motion detector in your doorway.”


         Inside she started to boil.  Her mind flew back to the many times he’d tracked her down since they’d met.  Suddenly she wanted to run down to Father and demand once more she have a new bodyguard - or better yet, no bodyguard at all.  Then she remembered the man in the alley.  The fingers on her arm, the cool air across her chest and the hands bruising her breasts.  Her stupidity led her into it and his motion detector got her out.  If Father had listened to her - had changed bodyguards...had she still run away...


         “Thanks,” she heard herself say to Desmond half a second before she realized she meant it.  He started closing the door again when she asked, “How did you become so good at this?”  He stared at her a long moment before answering.


         “I’m a monster,” he said at last, his raspy voice barely a whisper.  “Created by another monster.  He was the devil.  And I was the hell he unleashed.”  Desmond closed the door.


         Somewhere in her mind Alanya knew she should be frightened.  But somehow she only felt safe having Jerro Desmond across the hall.


-------------------------


         Once the door was shut Kenshi leaned back against the wall, running a shaky hand over his eyes.  16 faces flashed before him.  15 brothers and a second father.


         “Not anymore,” he said to himself.  Kenshi clenched his hand over and over and shook his head roughly, urging the memories away.  It never worked.  He turned from the remote wing he and Alanya had to themselves and started walking.  Fresh air would help.


         The corridors were still crawling with people in the evening hour, adults starting to settle back in for the night and the children getting one last game in before somebody forced them to bed.  He used to play games, he remembered faintly.  Games with friends and a mother and father smiling over him.  It was a different lifetime, though - a different him.  Now all the children did was make it difficult for him to find a secluded courtyard.


         20 minutes later had him on the opposite side of the castle in one of the smallest courtyards packed densely with trees.  Above, a moon nearing fullness dodged clouds.  More rain was coming tonight.  He sat down on the grass and leaned back against a large tree whose branches cast spotted and twisted shadows across most of the courtyard.  He stared up at the moon for a moment before closing his eyes.


         Behind them was a dark-haired man, his features controlled and well-groomed, his look both arrogant and cold.  “Do you know who you are?” the man said slowly and patiently in a calculated voice which implied high education.  The chains which held him and the five armed men guarding him from escape seemed to have little effect on his demeanor.


         “No,” he heard a voice he’d near forgotten respond - the voice he had before Ruki.


         “You are a man beyond the capabilities of anyone and anything.”


         “Listen to the devil talk,” one of the guards said with a sneer, his blurry face forgotten with time.  The man in chains only smiled.


         “Devil?  Yes, I suppose I could be a devil.  And you are the hell I inflict upon others.”  He never took his eyes from Kenshi, not even when they carried him away.


         “Good dreams?” he heard somebody outside the memory say.  A woman.  Narnia.  Kenshi opened his eyes.


         “A nightmare.”  Across the courtyard she leaned against the wall wearing thin, dark robes which seemed to glow in the moonlight.  She had a small smile on her face and her brown eyes near sparkled.


         “What about?”


         “The devil himself,” he said with a humorless grin.


         “Oh?  And what did he have to say?”  Kenshi found the grin no longer to be humorless.


         “Things to terrify, things to hurt.  The truth.”


         “I didn’t figure you for the type to be afraid.”  He chuckled.


         “What’s a man to be afraid of when he’s looked the devil in the eye and walked away?”


         “I had a dream last night,” she said.


         “Oh?”


         “I went to Nerrato for a new pair of shoes, but drug inspectors stopped me along the way.  They didn’t find any, but started chasing me anyway.  I turned to a few old friends for help and they started running with me, but they got caught one after another until it was just me and a new pair of shoes.  Then I realized how ugly the shoes were and threw them at the inspectors.  They died.  Then I died.  Then I started walking around a graveyard looking for a good pair of shoes.”


         “You have very strange dreams,” Kenshi said.  Narnia smiled widely.


         “You have no idea.”


         The noblewoman pushed off from the wall and walked across the courtyard.  When she reached his tree she sat down next to him and leaned back.  Silently they watched the moon pass behind a cloud until it found another opening.


         “Where are you from?” Kenshi found himself asking.


         “Lemaade.  This is the first time our people were invited to send somebody to Cindelliac.  They sent me alone.”


         “Heir to whoever’s in power or did you fight you way up?”


         “A little of both.  Passing along power through blood alone doesn’t work too well if you live on a worker’s world.  You need to prove yourself a bit.”


         “Take it you’ve done that.”


         “Of course.”


         “Why are you here alone?  Something you did by choice?”


         “Aspirations for something better, I guess you can say,” Narnia said, grinning.  Kenshi nodded.  “What about you?  Where are you from?”


         “Earth.”  She looked at him for a moment then laughed.


         “Of course.  Sorry.”  He felt himself smiling as well.


         “Earth not Earth II.  Everyone has forgotten that our first world still exists.  Helped during the war.”


         “Aren’t you the smart one.  Didn’t take you for a history guy.”


         “Nah.  Just a guy who knows a bit here and there.”


         “I see.”


         Minutes of comfortable silence broke out as the two observed the moon dodging clouds until it disappeared entirely.  Soon after the first drops of rain came and Kenshi stood up to offer the noblewoman a hand.


         “Should get you inside before we ruin your robes,” he said.  She took his hand and lifted herself to her feet, but when he started for the door she held firm.  He turned back to see her smiling devilishly as the rain picked up around her.  The water was cold, but her hand was so warm...and it’d been so long since he’d so much as held a woman’s hand.  Laughing, she looked up toward the sky and opened her mouth to try catching a few drops and, after a moment, Kenshi smiled and did the same.


         Half an hour later they finally returned to the cozy indoors, soaking wet and smiling contentedly.


-------------------------


         Ruki watched, hidden.  Fuming.  From her vantage she saw it all - good ol’ Kenshi and perfect Miss Narnia Cestlia.  She bubbled and burned, but stayed silent and continued watching, partially to see how far they would take it and partially to not start a dumb fight with Kenshi when she wasn’t ready.


         When Kenshi and Narnia finally split up Ruki was so close to giving into her urges and ripping little Miss Cestlia apart that spots filled her vision.  The only thing which stopped her was the knowledge of the futility of it.


         Soaked and cold, she followed Kenshi silently to his room, noticing quickly the way he held himself as he walked.  So often she’d seen him angry and intense and on those occasions he would be tense and alert, like a wild animal about to spring for it’s prey.  On the rare occasion, mostly with her recent stint aboard the ex SEALS’ upgraded ship, she’d seen him slumped and relaxed, looking almost bored if not for the constantly shifting eyes and the dejected way he held his shoulders.


         Now, though, he had the look of a man almost...happy.  Had Narnia Cestlia really done such a thing?  Was it even possible to bring such emotions out of the cynical, temperamental man?  The thought made her jealous.


         ‘It should have been me who made him happy.  Me, not some tan skin and a pretty smile,’ Ruki thought.  It wasn’t fair.  Why couldn’t the damn man react to her like that?


         The dread pirate followed Kenshi until he disappeared into his room then waited outside his door for...something.  She wanted to knock, to say something, to do something.  She needed it.  But there was nothing to be done.  Not yet, at least.


         Resignation hitting her, Ruki slumped forward and waited a minute before turning to make her way back to her own room.  In that long minute she felt the rain water slowly drip across her body, still nowhere near dry from her time outside spying on Kenshi.  Some went down her arms, most down her back and legs.  Some dripped from her hair down her face to slide across her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, even the corners of her eyes.  When one drop touched her lips she could’ve sworn she tasted salt.


-------------------------


         A soft knocking at her door woke Alanya early the next morning and the young princess groaned loudly from under a pillow.  The knocking continued and she sat up and threw her pillow across her bed.


         “Can’t you tell I’m sleeping?” she whined at the door.  The soft knocking only continued.  Grumbling, half awake and half dressed, Alanya stumbled her way to the door and swung it wide open.


         “Do you greet everyone like this?” Mother said, looking at her daughter’s simple shift.  In comparison, Faye Midolloni was dressed in expensive silver and lavender robes and looked as though it were noon instead of...


         “5:02 in the morning?” Alanya said, looking back at her clock.  “Please don’t tell me I really have to get up already.”


         “No, Alanya.  I just wanted...”  The empress was interrupted when Desmond slammed open his door, his shirt a mess, his tie loose and his jacket only attached to one arm.  For the second time Alanya could swear she saw stubble atop his bald head, but again dismissed it as a strange trick of her eyes.


         The antisocial bodyguard took one look at the pair in front of him and stopped in his tracks, his eyes blinking.  Alanya couldn’t help but giggle at him.


         ‘Serves him right for putting a motion detector on my door.’


         “Good morning Mr. Desmond,” Mother said with something between humor and distaste.


         “Ma’am,” he replied after an awkward moment.  “I’ll just leave you two alone.”  That said he reentered his room and closed the door.


         “He does not make for a very proper picture,” Mother said after a moment.


         “I’d hate to catch him with his pants down,” Alanya replied and laughed at her mother’s crinkled expression.


         “I came to you to talk about him.  I have an appointment soon, but I wanted to speak with you before I became too busy.”  Alanya nodded and stepped aside, allowing her mother into her room.


         “Your father told me about what happened the other day.  Though I’ve been swamped ever since, I’ve been thinking quite a bit about it and I agree with you, even if I don’t approve of your loss of temper.  You know not to speak like that to anyone, especially your own father.”


         “I knooow,” Alanya said, slumping her shoulders.


         “But I don’t like Jerro Desmond any more than you do.  He looks homeless, he’s much too antisocial and he follows few, if any, normal conventions for his line of work.  In light of all this, I’ve decided to replace him with someone else.”  At that Alanya bit her lip.


         “What about Father?  He wanted Desmond to stay with me until the end of the Ball.”


         “Let your father be upset with me if he must be upset at all.  I find Desmond wholly unacceptable.  Why our Guard Administrator hired such a man in the first place is beyond my understanding and to think your father actually stuck him on you...ugh,” her mother cringed with exaggerated shivers.


         “You really don’t have to worry about it,” Alanya said, her voice sounding tiny.


         “Nonsense.  I already have Gerald searching for a suitable replacement.”


         “No!  I mean...”


         “Really, Alanya, it is no trouble at all.  Gerald will have somebody new here by the afternoon.  You may even grow to be friends with whomever he should choose.”


         “That’s not it...”  Her mother raised an eyebrow.


         “What do you mean?”


         “Desmond and I...we’ve worked things out since then.  I mean, I know he’s weird and all, but he’s not that bad and he really good at his job.”


         “Alanya, honey, I’m sure there are many just as good at guarding as Desmond is and much more publically presentable as well.”


         Alanya remembered two nights ago.  She remembered the man with the long black hair.  Remembered his hands squeezing her breasts.  She still had bruises from that encounter; 15 dark yellow splotches, five on her arm and five more on each breast.  She remembered how Desmond had followed her, found her, saved her.  Her, the stupid brat that had tried to lose him at every turn simply out of spite.


         “No,” Alanya said, her voice no longer so tiny.  Her mother looked surprised.


         “Honey...”


         “I said no,” Alanya interrupted.  “Desmond’s good at his job.  Better than any stupid MPG with dumb smile on their face like Gerald.  He beat nine other trainees in a fight to get this job, you know.  He’s better than any of them.”  Even Alanya was shocked at the authority in her tone.  The empress, her mother, took a long time to gather herself together for a response.


         “Very well.  But you are responsible for keeping him, and yourself, presentable.  I want no more outbursts.  Understood?”


         “Yep,” Alanya said, beaming.


         “Good.  I will see you later.  I must go before I’m late for my appointment.”


         “Bye Mom,” Alanya said as the empress gathered her robes and exited.  As soon as the door shut Alanya fell back on her bed and went to sleep.


-------------------------


         Terrace was the only navy man amongst the table of career officers.  Major Nil and Lieutenant Xander sat across from him with GA Gerald and Lt. Colonel Qievvard sitting to his left and right, respectively.


         The lunch was something Xander had proposed to him only hours before, taking the chance to set up a meal with famed Orlius hero with some of the usual young heavy hitters around here.  Aside from Gerald, that is, who was well into his prime as a Midollonian in his mid 50s.


         “So what calls the great and mighty Commander Burlai down to our humble city?” Xander asked once they’d each ordered their meals.  Xander was a talkative one and was in a decent position inside Midolloni City’s police section of the MMC.


         “I hear the emperor himself called you down,” Nil added.  The Major was the youngest of the group despite the fact that she’d seen the most personal combat.  She was newly transferred from a squad of pirate hunters who’d recently pulled apart a rather large group.


         “That sounds like something the emperor would do,” Qievvard said with a faint grin.  Qievvard was the quietest of the group excepting Terrace, but was a natural leader.  Until a year ago he’d been a front line commander on the outer borders, an area few MMC dared and much fewer came back from.


         “Yes, our emperor ever was the wise one,” Gerald said with his huge friendly smile.  Gerald wasn’t the smartest fish and was turning into a bit of a suck up annoyance, but the man carried the high honor of commanding the MPG in the Marble Keep.


         “I can’t say what I’m here for,” Terrace responded simply.  Xander pouted playfully.


         “I hear you’re being thrown at Ruki for something huge she pulled,” Nil said.


         “Yeah, I got much the same,” Xander added.


         “The Titan, so I hear, was involved,” Qievvard said.


         “I can’t say one way or another.  The incident is not yet resolved,” Terrace said.


         “Bah.  Crowd control’s boring,” Xander said.  “Lucky for us our good Commander is not the only one with stories to tell.”


         “Universe is always interesting,” Gerald said.  “Why just the other day the second man in my history as Guard Administrator took out all trainees in his ability test.  And wouldn’t you know they are both of the disreputable sort.  His first assignment and he’s already being...”


         “Boooooring,” Xander interrupted and Gerald couldn’t quite get a scowl down through his surprise.  “Next up, Nil.  You got any flavor of the universe to spread?”


         “Pure vanilla,” she said.  “Half the pirate leaders in the galaxy are going missing for this or that reason.  Some say there’s a war brewing.  Others say they’re being picked off.  Some are even saying neighboring galaxies are hiring them in as mercs.  You know how much everyone hates Midolloni these days.  ‘You stopped your war and no longer needed our imports so now we hate you and want you dead.’  Politics fucking suck.  Bunch of selfish monkeys in a pissing contest.  I tell ya, it’s lucky Kerosia’s kicking ass by the far borders else everyone’d invade.  Anyway, I even heard that Kerosia’s the one doing recruiting.  Good for everyone if they do.  Less pirates for us, more for our dumbass neighbors.


         “And there’s our report from Nil today on the Opinionated Network,” Xander said, holding up his cup like a microphone.  “Comments, Qievvard?” he said, holding the cup up to the Lt. Colonel.


         “I’d hear your great story first,” Qievvard said, that small grin still in place.


         “Buddy, this is Midolloni fucking City.  There’s always a story to tell.”


         “Go on,” Gerald said, probably trying trap the Lieutenant into being a hypocrite.


         “Alright, get this.  Couple nights back these three guys show up dead in an ally, brains blown all over the pavement.  But these ain’t normal guys, no.  You all familiar with Black Dragons?”  At the questioning glances of everyone including Terrace he elaborated.  “Big shot organized crime mother fuckers.  Anyway these guys were three Black Dragons set to guarding some leadership hotel.  The guys get nailed, nobody in the hotel gets touched.  They say a girl walked into their territory and nobody walked out.  Big mystery an’ all that.  Now the neighborhood’s gettin’ torn apart as everyone looks for the girl meanwhile these old farts on their plush chairs are saying it’s a warning from some rival gang.  They’re so pissed they’re handing out bribes left and right just to keep the cops off their back so they can find the damn girl and put a hot poker to ‘er.  Ugly, eh?”


         “Eh,” Nil said.  “I’d rather hear what Burlai has to say.  But since he doesn’t feel like talking,” she glared at him, “I’ll settle with Qievvard to drown you out.”


         “Very well,” the Lt. Colonel said.  “You were wondering before what happened to many of this galaxy’s pirates.  I’m happy to say I have a partial answer for you.  I’m sure you’ve all heard of Haqnen II, correct?”  This time everybody nodded.  “A week ago a regional leader decided to increase his influence in the wrong place: a neutral ground belonging to a name you might recognize if you went back before Ruki’s glory days as a major pirate leader: Worrent Ployer.  Ployer managed to fight them off well enough, even destroyed a Peacemaker...”


         “A what?!” Xander asked.


         “Isn’t that some sort of tank?” Gerald said.


         “Yep,” Qievvard said.  “Nobody knows how one got there, but that’s not the point of this.  After the fight three more regional leaders started fighting for control of not only that first region, but also Ployer’s neutral ground.  It only escalated from there.  Now half the world’s at war and many of the most prominent pirate groups in the galaxy are going down to help Ployer, of all people.  The man started out with one building, but already he has the most organized and powerful group of the bunch and has made for himself what is believed to be the largest region the planet has had since it became anarchistic.  If that war keeps going the way it’s going the entire world may find a war on it’s hands and Ployer’s most likely to be the ultimate victor.”  Everybody took a moment to consider that - the criminals they were all up against blowing each other to pieces for a strip of war-torn land.


         “Hmph,” Xander finally said.  “I liked my story better.”


         “That’s all the emperor’s fault,” Nil said.  Gerald made to protest, but she ignored him and plowed on.  “That guy gets his hands dirty with the military too often and he has no strategic mind.  Tension with the neighbors and the guy abandons our fucking borders.  Makes crime a God damn growth industry complete with a center of business.  And don’t even get me started on intelligence agencies.  Generals and councilmen spend money for mercenary groups to get their information while Emperor Midolloni twiddles his fat thumbs like a moron.”


         “His is a call for peace and honor,” Gerald argued and Nil rolled her eyes.


         “Honor doesn’t find pirates.”


         “It keeps us from becoming them, however.”


         “There’s a load if ever I’ve heard one,” Nil said and Terrace started tuning out the squabble.


         Food came up soon enough and the group eventually ended the argument over Emperor Midolloni and his policies, deciding to trade stories once again.  Terrace listened for the most part and told no story of his own, but it certainly didn’t hinder the number.  Finally, their meals finished, everybody started going their separate ways.  Terrace grabbed Gerald before he could walk away, however.


         “I invited you to this for something more than a social meal,” he said to the GA.


         “Hmm?  What then?” Gerald asked, frowning.  Terrace paused to think of his wording.


         “I have reason to believe there will be a criminal gathering soon within the Marble Keep.”


         “You’re joking,” Gerald said with a smile which slowly disappeared when he realized the commander wasn’t.


         “I’ve been given the area in which this meeting is to take place and I would appreciate input from the MPG.”


         “Of course!  I’ll have no criminal within the Marble Keep on my watch!” Terrace cringed at that.


         “Right.  I’d prefer this be very discreet and that your men remain incognito.”


         “No problem.  Just tell me when and where.”


         As Terrace handed out a piece of paper containing the asked for information he questioned whether getting the GA involved was really such a good idea.


-------------------------


         “This had better work, pirate,” Malcom told Ruki who promptly rolled her eyes in response.  Behind her Davnick had a slight grin while Malcom’s bodyguard had the opposite behind the 11th prince.


         “Why the hell are you complaining?  Either we’ll expose him or we won’t.  If we don’t then you lose nothing.” Ruki explained to the scowling noble.  It was a wonder the man was so unpopular.  Yeah right.


         “I hugely dislike wasting my time and, as far as I can tell, that is all I have done with you up to this point.”


         “Boo hoo,” Davnick whispered and Ruki grinned.


         “What did you say, boy?”


         “Who, me?” Dav said, innocence dripping from him like molasses.  Ruki could hear Malcom gritting his teeth.


         The whole plan was pretty simple.  Though Ruki had managed to find Kenshi purely by chance, Davnick and, more importantly, Malcom were getting antsy waiting for visible results.  So she’d hitched up a simple bait plan.  Kenshi was after Malcom so all she had to do was put Malcom out in the open, make it look like the man was in some illegal meeting and push Kenshi out where they could see.


         Of course, everyone was expecting some big showdown, but Ruki honestly didn’t think the moment was right.  Too ugly.  She hadn’t secured the data yet and that meant Kenshi could still destroy it if he thought things were going sour.  And that would mean a second trip to the Titan.


         “I have had enough waiting.  Let us be finished with this,” Malcom said and Davnick nodded in agreement.  Ruki barely contained a snort, instead nodding along.  And so the grand entrapment plan started.


         Malcom’s main bodyguard was the first to leave the prince’s extravagant mansion of a room, checking things were clear in the normally busy corridor before signaling Davnick ahead.  Malcom followed a short bit later, the blonde young guard keeping close behind.  Ruki was last to leave, floating through the ceiling where she would try to keep tabs of everyone while staying out of sight.  Difficult as hell and she’d no doubt somebody would send a confused glance at some ceiling or wall, but it was the only way.


         Everyone played things smooth as silk.  Dav stayed a good way ahead so Kenshi probably wouldn’t even notice him until the end.  The bodyguard and Malcom played their parts casually, both walking haughtily and, in Malcom’s case, looking down at anyone who crossed their paths.  The usual business.


         It took so long for Kenshi to show Ruki started silently worrying her silver bracelet might run out of batteries.  Sure enough, however, she caught sight of the large Terran a long way down the hall from Malcom.  She knew he wouldn’t allow himself any closer to the noble unless he suspected he could find dirt on the man so the dread pirate flew forward along the procession and snapped her fingers down at Dav.


         Like clockwork the rookie stopped his circle of the castle and started his way toward one of the remote courtyards of the Marble Keep.  The plan was simple from there.  Oldest tricks in the books sorta stuff.  Davnick would split and circle around to follow their pursuer while Malcom and his bodyguard would arrive at the courtyard and set up a basic hologram recording so they might circle around as well and get the drop on poor ol’ Kenshi.


         That was the plan, anyway.


         The closer they came to the courtyard the more people they found.  And not nobles, these were MPG on patrol.  Something had gone rotten.


         On the third patrol encountered, Malcom finally stopped a guard and asked, “What is going on here?”


         The guard, looking a little nervous in front of the prince’s scowl, said, “Criminals, my lord.  There’s been a reports that criminals breached the area and we’re here to root them out.”


         “I see...” Malcom said and Ruki could imagine the temper burning under his scalp.  She couldn’t blame him.  If she weren’t so confused she’d feel the same.  Something was very wrong about all this.  She checked back for Kenshi, but he was already gone.  That was it.  Any minuscule chance of salvaging this was over even if Malcom dumbly tried to force things.


         Leaving the group behind, Ruki raced back to her room and took off her bracelet to replace it’s battery.  It’d take awhile for Davnick to come back if he even came back straight away and Malcom certainly wasn’t about to visit anytime soon.


         ‘This was a setup,’ Ruki thought.  ‘Did Kenshi do this?  He’s with MPG, but this was so disorganized and he had to have known MPG being around would likely spook Malcom and I.  What other option is there, though?’


-------------------------


         Heart beating fast, Davnick took his sweet time heading back to his and Ruki’s shared room.  These MPG were here because of him, he knew, and if Ruki had even started putting two and two together...


         ‘Damn Burlai,’ he thought.  ‘That man’s going to get me killed if he keeps this up.’  Reaching a hand into his pocket he intended to tell the gruff Commander exactly that.  He didn’t dare take the communicator out, though, no.  If Ruki was watching as she very well might be...  The merc did his best to remember the button layout and made the message short and sweet.


         Whatever you pulled with the mpg dont do it again or there wont be enough of me left to quit


         Message sent and hopefully legible, Davnick forced himself to relax a bit on his return walk.  Of course, he tensed all over again when he reached his door and had to take a moment to forcibly relax himself once more before reaching up to turn the knob.  Ruki was on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling when he entered.


         “I never thought Tamaki was the kind to push influence,” she said when he closed the door.


         “Huh?” was the confused answer Davnick gave.


         “Those MPG, they were his.  You know he actually joined up to get in here?”  If ever Davnick felt more relief he’d like to gladly be informed of it right then.


         “Guess that works,” he said.  Ruki laughed, making the merc cock his head in confusion.


         “They were sloppy though.  I can see him being pissed.  Poor suckers.”


         “So what now?  I take it all that was enough to find him?” Davnick asked.


         “Simple.  We keep Malcom calm while we wait for our newest MPG to make a move.  Doubt Tamaki will show himself again so easily.  Endlessly persistent, but still smart enough to adapt.”


         “Big question there, though, is what do we do when he does make a move?”  Ruki only grinned in response.


-------------------------


         Kenshi did his best to walk casual down the corridors to his isolated section of the keep.  Inside, however he was all tense muscles, trying to track anyone who might be following him without looking too obvious.


         The whole thing was a trap.  Malcom, Yenshin, a shitload of MPG and, he bet floating through some wall somewhere, Ruki.


         ‘And if they’d cornered me?’  He didn’t know the answer to that and he didn’t want to know.


         The beeper on his belt started vibrating as he neared his destination and he saw Alanya walk out of her room to cross the corridor and knock on his door.  Kenshi grinned to himself and willed his feet to keep silent as he approached.


         Alanya waited impatiently in front of the door and soon enough knocked again.  A second later he gave her answer.  A hand laid itself on her shoulder, but it wasn’t until Kenshi let out a raspy, “Yo,” that she actually jumped.


         “Whadindoit!” the girl screeched, turning around to see the wide grin on his face.  When she settled back against the door the young princess reached out and slugged him in the belly.  “Don’t do that!  You’re supposed to protect me not scare ten years of my life away!” she said, pouting.  Kenshi merely shrugged.  “Anyway, I was just gonna walk around a bit, maybe grab a bite to eat.  Coming?”


         “‘course.”  Alanya smiled, the most relaxed Kenshi had yet seen the young princess.  Side-by-side they made their way around the castle, exploring courtyards, examining people and generally just taking the time to relax.  Neither talked much and when they did there was nothing important the say, but in the end that was just the way Kenshi liked it.


-------------------------


         So close was Malcom to actually cursing when he arrived back at his home that he could hear the words in his mind.  The fuming noble paced circles around the rooms, Yenshin keeping up a few steps behind him.  Bad was turning into ugly which was changing into horrendous and it was happening fast.


         ‘First the damnable pirate loses the information then she must travel with me then live with me and now...this,’ he thought with a sneer.  ‘Even my cigars were stolen, damnably greedy bodyguard scum.’  With the MPG making a mess of plans Malcom honestly had no idea what would happen next.  Everybody had split apart and now without being able to tell where this...Tamaki was and with the MPG curious everyone would be spooked out of so much as moving, Malcom included.


         No data, no whereabouts of a potential thorn in his side, no foreseeable plan of even meeting with the only one who might help, damn her soul.


         Malcom stopped his pacing to find himself in his study.  He sat down in his luxurious leather chair then motioned for Yenshin to do the same across from him.


         “Lieutenant, I want you by my side at all times along with the spare guards,” the noble said.  Yenshin gave a resigned nod.  “This will last until this incident with Ruki and Tamaki is finished.”


         “I understand, sir,” was all the Lieutenant said.  Nodding, Malcom felt relief.


-------------------------


         If stupidity was a crime Terrace would have executed GA Wror Gerald on the spot.  Painfully.  Once Cecile’s message came in it didn’t take long for the commander to figure out what’d happened and he’d made a quick trip to the GA’s office.


         “I will not harbor criminals in my castle,” the scowling Midollonian was saying.  “I won’t have it.”


         “Your actions could have killed people you damn fool,” Terrace shot back.


         “Yes.  Some petty criminals.”  Terrace grit his teeth and glared at the man.  God, did he want to throttle that man.


         “Try my informant.  Try the two dozen clueless MPG you had walking around with God damn cattle prods.”


         “You honestly think that some petty...”


         “They’re not petty!  They snuck into “your” castle completely undetected and have stayed that way for days.  If I’d wanted to catch them I’d have brought men in from Koskov and ambushed them, but such a move would be worthless right now.  I wanted them watched not killed.  If you couldn’t have done as much you should have damn well said so.  Your stunt may very well have set me back indefinitely.”


         “You are an arrogant little man, aren’t you.  I am the Guard Administrator, appointed by the emperor himself!  If he thought there was danger he would have called me.”  Terrace scowled.


         “But he didn’t.  He called me.”  Terrace didn’t wait for a response.  Exiting, he knew he would have to rely on Cecile alone to be his eyes and ears for the remainder of this assignment.


-------------------------


         “I say that one looks strangest,” Alanya said two days before the Cindelliac Ball.  The man she nodded toward was a tall thin man wearing red and white robes and with a head the shape of a rounded pyramid and the color of a banana - a Lyscenian.


         “Genetical engineering’s freak offspring,” Desmond agreed quietly.  “I’d say the Tymorian’s the strangest.”


         “That’s not the strangest!  That’s the ugliest.”


         “Freakishly so.”  Alanya grinned at her bodyguard.  She didn’t remember how this game started, but it was fun and the princess found she was enjoying the Terran’s dry wit when he chose to use it.


         The pair sat at one end of the most popular courtyard in the keep and had been watching people for the past hour.  It was still cloudy outside, but there was to be no rain until later tonight.  Fortunately, in all the crowd, nobody seemed to recognize the second princess in her semi casual dress.


         “I would like to take care of something tonight,” Desmond said, his features going serious again.


         “What’s that?”


         “Something personal.  Would it be possible if you stayed in your room until my return?”


         “But what if I need you?” Alanya asked, suddenly not liking the idea that her bodyguard wouldn’t be there for her.


         “You still have the transmitter, right?”


         “Yeah.  Of course.”


         “If you need me use that to contact me.  That is, if you agree.”  Alanya bit her lip.  It was strange, the idea that she thought she might need him.  After all, the only danger she’d yet been in was due to her own stupidity.  How things could change so quickly.  Still...


         “You’ll be there if I need you?” she asked.


         “In a flash.”  The princess nodded and smiled up at him.


         “Alright.  But you gotta tell me what you’re up to.”


         “Taking dirty pictures of 70-year-old men in their most vulnerable.” the Terran replied.


         “Eeew.  Too far, Desmond.”  Her bodyguard grinned down at her and she laughed.  “Fine, you may go.  Your empress has given you permission.”


         “Thank you, your majesty,” he said theatrically and the pair looked back toward the crowd of strange nobles from far and wide.


-------------------------


         Brandy was sprayed out all over the room when Ruki floated down from the ceiling in front of Malcom and his bodyguard, the prince quickly wiping his mouth red-faced.  The famed mercenary gave a lopsided grin at the display.


         “Better drunk then high again, I say.  You won’t sound like your tongue is five sizes too big.”


         “I am not drunk.”  Malcom raised a hand up to contain a belch.  Ruki burst out laughing and even the bodyguard grinned a little.  Whaat do youu want, pirate?”


         “Oh I’m merely here to annoy you while I comfort your mind with reassurances.”  It was fun watching the drunk Malcom try wrapping his mind around that one.  But as much fun as a drunk Malcom could be she still hated the man and she still wanted to get the hell away from him before certain urges become predominant.  “I found Tamaki.”  Malcom blinked.


         “Oh?  And have you killed him for me?”  Ruki scowled.


         “And how smart would that be?  What if he’s hidden away the data?”


         “Have you not searched his room yet?  Your abliti...alibi...abitima...”


         “Abilities.”


         “Yes.  Your abliti...”  Ruki sighed.


         “I’ve searched his room,” she said.  “No luck.  Either he keeps it on himself or he’s stashed it.”


         “Damnabadble pirate.  Do you realize that is the only copy of the infra..infre...data left?”  Ruki raised an eyebrow.


         “No.  Since when?”


         “Since your petty fight aboard the Titan, woman.  You destroyed the only other copy, as I have come to discover.”  Ruki winced.


         “Oops.”


         “You musht take that data back.”


         “I will,” she said, floating back into the ceiling.  ‘So that’s why he’s keeping me around.  Little bastard has no choice but to go after Tamaki.  Oh this is getting better and better.’  She flashed her fangs in a smile.


-------------------------


         As far as infiltration jobs went Kenshi had to admit this was one of the more dangerous attempts he’d ever even considered.  Following Aiston Malcom had become out of the question and the damn man refused to leave his room so that bugs might be placed.  A directional mic would be fine for listening in, but it would hold little evidence aside from his word against Malcom’s.  No chance.


         That left sneaking in while the 11th prince was still inside his own room.


         Despite the idea being farfetched, the scouter he kept hidden in his hand showed the mansion of a room was pretty well emptied aside from two in what he figured was the study and two in what he figured was the entertainment room.


         With all the stealth and quickness he could muster he bypassed the main door, much to the crowd’s ignorant curiosity, shut off the alarm system and started setting up the first small A/V bug in the living room he’d entered into.


         Keeping a careful eye on the figures on the scouter, - which he’d by that point attached over his eye - Kenshi made his way from room to room, planting the small bugs in a place he deemed unnoticeable and convenient.  Plants, darkened corners, inside lamps or other lights.  Anywhere the eye wouldn’t draw.  Nobody moved from whatever seat they were lazing around in.  His mind screamed, ‘TRAP!!!’ but Kenshi ignored it to focus on the task at hand - if he aborted now he wouldn’t have much time or chance to find anything on Malcom before the Ball and God only knew where the man would go once the event was over.


         The entertainment and study rooms were the tricky part.  Silently sidling up to the doors of the two rooms, he placed his smallest, most camouflaged bugs on the hinged side of each doorway and did his best to adjust the devices quietly with a small terminal hooked into them to look upon the figures inside, sweating all the while and knowing there was next to no way he’d be able to keep hidden if anyone decided suddenly to change rooms.


         Job finished, it was a simple matter to sneak out into the crowded hallway, make his way back to his own room and turn on the cheap laptop designed to tune into and record the devices all the while thanking his luck for once that everything had gone smoothly.  The whole deal made him nervous.  Much easier than it should have been.  What he saw and heard made him smile, however.


         “...abliti...alibi...abitima...”


         “Abilities,” Ruki said for an apparently wasted Malcom.


         “Yes.  Your abliti...”  The pirate let out a breath of air and was quick to divert the prince’s attention.


         “I’ve searched his room.  No luck.  Either he keeps it on himself or he’s stashed it.”  It didn’t take much to figure out who and what she was talking about and Kenshi scowled, looking around his fancy bedroom.  Suddenly he felt like hosing the place down.  Then he thought of the chance she had set bugs in his room just like he’d done with Malcom only minutes before.


         ‘Gonna be spending awhile searching this place up and down.  Damn.  What if she comes while I’m asleep?  There goes rest for the next two nights.’


         “Damnabadble pirate,” Malcom said for him.  Well, sort of.  “Do you realize that is the only copy of the infra..infre...data left?”  Kenshi raised an eyebrow.


         “No.  Since when?”


         “Since your petty fight aboard the Titan, woman.  You destroyed the only other copy, as I have come to discover.”  Ruki cringed.  Kenshi cringed more, remembering how he tore the blackbox room apart with his sonic blaster.


         “Oops.”


         “You musht take that data back,” Malcom demanded.


         “I will,” Ruki said and, apparently not enjoying the company, flew up to disappear into the ceiling.  Kenshi clenched his fingers at that, half expecting the dread pirate to sprint straight for him.  He continued watching Malcom for awhile longer, but was disappointed to see the prince simply refill his glass and continue to not handle his liquor.


         ‘Not that it matters much,’ he thought with a wicked smile as he took a disk out of the laptop and replaced it with another.  ‘I’ve got everything I need on the sonofabitch.’


-------------------------


         One day before Cindelliac found Alanya and Desmond on the MPG’s sparring grounds, looking through training equipment that might pass the day away.  Desmond was the one choosing supplies, though it’d been her idea to come down here.  She wanted to see his abilities firsthand.


         “You know how to hold a gun?” Desmond asked her and Alanya blinked a couple times before she registered what he’d said.


         “What?  Of course not.  I’ve never even touched one.”  She thought on that second more.  ‘Or wanted to,’ she added silently.  A peace-lover like her father would never promote such things to his offspring.


         “You want to?”  Alanya could only imagine the wide-eyed look she had on her face.  “These are training guns.  They’ll give you a good shock and might send you to the ground if it hits you right, but they’re pretty harmless.”


         “I guess I could...” she said nervously.  He handed her one of the larger training pistols grip first.  Some of the MPGs stopped what they were doing to scowl at Desmond, but none intervened.


         “Move your fingers up on the grip a bit.  Good, but you put your thumb too high.  If it were a real gun you’d have second degree burns after five shots.  Now cup your other hand over your grip and cross your thumbs.  It’ll steady your aim.”  She did as she was told and when she was finished the training pistol was strange weight between her palms.  Desmond lifted her hand to inspect the grip, moving a couple fingers around a bit.  “Keep your hands like that and remember this grip,” he said before flipping some switch on the side of the weapon.  “Safety’s off, you’re ready to shoot.”


         Pzzzzzz.


         “Sonofa..!” her bodyguard said, gripping his right bicep.


         “I think it works,” Alanya said smugly.


         “Try letting me defend myself next time.”


         “Next time?”  Now Desmond was the one looking smug.  His unharmed arm grabbed a cylinder from a supply rack and pressed some button on it.  Next thing she knew a fiery, crackling beam of bluish white lanced out of the cylinder to stand in front of the bodyguard.


         “Hit me now.”  Aiming for his injured arm again, Alanya fired once more, but Desmond was already moving the training sword in front of himself to block the shot.  “Look down the sight when you shoot.  Don’t close your other eye.  Try to keep your aim like that.”


         She followed his instructions carefully and Desmond took the opportunity to put a couple meters more between himself and the young princess.


         “Ready?” she asked.


         “Go for it,” he said, a shadow of a grin across his face.


         Alanya had heard of catch - a simple game of throwing, catching and throwing back.  Though she herself had never found anyone to play it with, she figured whatever surrounded the hype to that game was nothing compared to this.


         Firing the weapon again and again, Desmond managed to block every shot, the sword absorbing the training bolts as they came in with a small, crackling blue light show.  Once, twice, five times, 10, 14 times she fired her training pistol and 14 times he blocked until she heard a click instead of the electrical gunshot the princess found herself growing used to.  Desmond disengaged the sword and walked up to her, pulling another cylinder out of his pocket, this one much smaller than the training sword.  He flipped another switch beside her thumb and she heard and felt something pop out of place within the gun.  Next thing she knew her bodyguard held two cylinders, pulling one out of the weapon and putting the spare in.


         “If you want to get past my sword you have...”


         “Lieutenant Desmond!” a new voice yelled and both Alanya and her bodyguard cringed.  Gerald.  “This is completely unacceptable.”  She saw Desmond’s nostrils flare and found this was the first time she’d seen him angry.


         “They’re training weapons, Gerald.  Even if she should somehow turn the damn thing around and shoot herself the most she’s going to do is knock herself out for five seconds.”


         “And so she could injure herself.  Your job is to keep her away from dangers, but all I see you doing is...”  A laugh interrupted the GA, but it wasn’t Desmond’s.


         “I’m no authority over the MPG, but if I didn’t know any better I’d say the girl’s a legal adult,” a woman with a sweet, musical voice said to the incredulous GA.  “A legal adult who happens to be second princess to the emperor himself meaning she has all the authority in the galaxy over you.  What’s more, she was shooting at him.”


         “Who are you and what are you doing down here?” Gerald asked.  “You have no right to be here.”  The woman, a beautiful creature with tanned skin, long black hair and longer legs, smiled sweetly.


         “What do you say, Princess?  Am I allowed down here?”  Alanya blinked once before understanding came to her.


         “Yes,” she said simply.  Gerald, his unusually friendly face now turned to one of rage looked between the trio.


         “I do have authority over Desmond, however.  Lieutenant, you’re fired.  Gather your things together, I’m transferring you back into the Army.”  Realizing her power over the annoying GA, Alanya looked calmly at Desmond.


         “How would you like a job as my bodyguard?” she asked him.


         The stoical man simply shrugged and said, “Sure.”  Gerald stared at the bodyguard with his mouth down to his chest.  Sputtering for a moment, he finally turned and stormed away.


         When enough attention was finally drawn off of them, Desmond turned to the woman and asked, “What are you doing here?”  The beautiful woman shrugged.


         “I got bored.”


         “You know her?” Alanya asked him.  The Terran nodded.


         “Narnia Cestlia,” the woman said, smirking.


         “Alanya Midolloni,” the princess replied, frowning.  “You’re here for the Ball tomorrow?”


         “You bet.”


         “How do you know Desmond?”


         “We just keep on running into each other, don’t we Jerro?”  Desmond nodded.  The woman  - Narnia - walked up to Alanya and swiped the gun from her hand.  “I believe what Desmond was going to tell you before our friendly GA interrupted was that to shoot him instead of the sword you have to try spreading his defenses more.  Like this.”


         She aimed the weapon and shot and Desmond barely turned the sword on in time to block.  The second shot went down to his right ankle, the third his opposite shoulder.  Her fourth shot skimmed his thigh making him cringe long enough for Narnia to shoot twice more, one getting blocked at the belly, the other striking his left arm squarely.  Desmond’s hand automatically dropped the sword and the noblewoman aimed a “killing” shot for his head.  He barely dodged under the beam of white and was quick to bullrush the her.  Narnia tried for one more shot, but his speed was incredible and it missed, though only barely.


         Next thing Alanya knew the woman was spun around with her shooting hand, still holding the training pistol, pinned to the small of her back.  Narnia was laughing the whole time and Alanya saw Desmond grinning as well.


         “Learned to shoot, eh?” he said.


         “A girl’s gotta protect herself you know.  Now get back over there.  I’ve always wanted to shoot you.”  Alanya decided right then and there that she liked this woman.


         Together they spent the rest of the early afternoon trying to shoot Jerro Desmond.


-------------------------


         “She is indisposed of?” Burlai asked immediately.


         “If she weren’t I wouldn’t be here,” Davnick replied.


         “What’s happening?”


         “Ruki’s found him, so she claims.  Says he’s infiltrated the MPG and he’s to blame for the incident yesterday.”


         “That would be Gerald, the Guard Administrator here,” Burlai corrected.


         “Thought it was something funny.  Anyway, she’s tracking him or looking for the data or something like that.  Doesn’t take me with her ‘cause it’s easier floating through walls alone, so she says.”


         “You’ve mentioned that before.  How does she do it?”  Davnick shrugged.


         “Beats me.  I think it has something to do with this bracelet she wears, but to hell if I know.  The flying thing, I got no clue on that one.  Woman’s a damn magician,” the merc said and Burlai nodded.


         “When we’re sure where the information is we’ll make our move.  If you can find a way to stop these abilities of hers it would help us greatly.”


         “Pfft.  Yeah right.  Even if I was sure about the bracelet she never takes it off.  Now I’ve got some sleight of hand, but this woman...”  Burlai nodded.


         “I understand.  Do you know where Tamaki is hiding?”


         “Hell if I know.  Ruki doesn’t say anything.  She didn’t bring me here out of any real partnership, you know.  She just didn’t want to spend a week alone in hiding.”


         “I see...”  A silence spread between them.


         “Look, if anything’s gonna happen it’ll probably happen tomorrow.  Ruki’s expecting a confrontation, Tamaki will probably take the opportunity of a crowded place to do whatever he’s here to do and Malcom...damn, if both Ruki and Malcom are alive in two days you can be legitimately surprised.  That pair’s a clash in the works if I’ve ever seen one.”


         “Anything else?”


         “Nah.  Nothing.  Except...  I dunno.  The way Ruki talks about him...  She pretends she doesn’t know what he’s planning, but I think she gets it.  Maybe I’m wrong and something else is up, but I think Tamaki might just be on our side.”  Burlai stared wide-eyed at Davnick on that one.  “Just a wild guess though.  Anyway, I’m gonna get back before I’m missed.  See ya around.”  Davnick turned and left Commander Burlai standing motionless in the secluded courtyard, ashen.


-------------------------


         Kenshi and Alanya split ways with Narnia only after time was riding on their backs and they needed to rush back to the landing bay for the planned family dinner the night before Cindelliac.  Both were surprised only to find the emperor and empress, both with their full array of bodyguards plus a couple extra.


         “Alanya, where have you been?” Faye Midolloni asked, looking a little overemotional for Kenshi’s liking.  Something was wrong.  “We’ve been trying to find you for the last hour,” she said, walking up to and hugging her daughter tightly.


         “I was just with Desmond and this lady over at the MPG sparring grounds,” Alanya said as if it were nothing.  “What’s wrong?  Did something happen?”


         “Do you know who the criminal Ruki is, Alanya?” Berin said, putting Kenshi instantly on alert.  At the shake of the young princess’ head he continued.  “She’s a very evil and dangerous woman who’s haunted our galaxy for centuries.  Only an hour ago she was seen roaming around the Marble Keep, not very far from where your room is, in fact.”  Kenshi clenched his jaw.


         “So?  Can’t the MPG just take care of it?”


         “It’s not that easy, dear,” the empress said.  “Ruki is very dangerous and very difficult to catch.”


         “We’re afraid that since she was seen close to your room she might have been looking for you or some other member of our family,” Berin continued, making Alanya go wide-eyed.  “I’ve called off the dinner tonight.  Until this is sorted out we’re all going to be very careful.  Desmond won’t be your only bodyguard.  At least for the time being.  You will be guarded at all times.”


         “What about Benjen and Relina?” Alanya asked.


         “They’re safe inside already,” the emperor said and the young woman gave a sigh of relief.  “I’m so sorry, Alanya.  We’ll sort this all out as soon as possible.”


         Smiling somewhat sadly, Alanya unwrapped herself from her mother and went to hug her father.  “You take care of yourself too, Daddy,” she said.  She started walking away and Kenshi made to follow, but Emperor Berin Midolloni’s hand on his arm stopped him.


         “Protect her,” was all he said.


         “I will,” was his only response.  He started walking again and two bodyguards followed.


-------------------------


         Berin did not sleep well that night.  His wife on the separate bed beside him seemed to have little trouble, but Berin was anxious.


         As emperor he should know exactly what was going on in his galaxy, but in this case he had not a clue.  Tomorrow could be a great day of bringing in close ties throughout the galaxy or it could be utter chaos.  There was not any way for him to predict which it would be.  Not for the first time since he’d received it Berin found his thoughts returning to the package in his desk.


         Fitfully rolling over, the emperor continued to try and find his rest.


-------------------------


         It took Alanya a long time to get to sleep.  Her robes for the next day were already prepared, her blankets were already tight up to her chin, but still sleep came slowly.


         She wondered at this Ruki woman her parents seemed so concerned about.  Was she more than a match for Desmond?  She doubted it.  Still...


         A guard was to stand by her door all night and the plated windows to her room were locked tight.  No disturbance came, though every sound made her shift uneasily.  Eventually, though, her mind started drifting, more and more slowly.  Soon it wasn’t this big evil criminal lady she was thinking about, but Demond, her friend.  The only friend she seemed to have these days with everyone she’d grown up with getting so wrapped up in their politics.


         Not long after sleep overtook her.


-------------------------


         Aiston slept soundly, if a bit drunkenly, in his emperor sized bed.  An emperor bed for a future emperor, he would have thought if he were not so deep in unconsciousness.


         Soon enough this ugly ordeal would be over and done with, the price of weeks of annoyance and millions in preparation.  All to culminate in one day.  Even in his sleep Aiston Malcom smiled.


-------------------------


         Beside the 11th prince Lt. Lyle Yenshin sat upright in the more-than-comfortable chair Malcom kept at his bedside.  The bodyguard was not expected to stay up all night and he didn’t, but he did wake at every creak which sounded through the ancient castle and the prince’s mansion room.


         Tomorrow would prove to be a long day, the bodyguard knew.  Whatever happened he’d not like it.  Malcom getting the data from the Titan was an ugly thought, as was the chance of a fight with Tamaki or Ruki or even both.  If they were to fight Yenshin knew it would be bad.  But the bodyguard had to succeed, as his honor entitled.


-------------------------


         Davnick rested easy knowing things were out of his hands for once since he’d started this job.  Still, however, he made sure to spend a good hour lining up his weapons and checking them carefully.  If there was a fight this would be one he didn’t want to come unprepared for.


         Still, there was the distinct possibility that everything went sour the next day.  If the mercenary was discovered...


         But that wouldn’t happen.  That would be bad luck.  And Lady Luck loved Dav.  All women loved Dav.


-------------------------


         Ruki couldn’t stop thinking in her place at the very edge of her and Davnick’s bed.  Tomorrow...  Everything would come out tomorrow.  All the confrontation between herself and Malcom and Kenshi...


         She wondered if she should have forced her hand sooner, tried to make things happen, but no.  It was too late to think about that.


         Above it all her mind returned to Kenshi and Narnia.  The whole deal enraged her, but there was also...sadness, she’d come to discover it was.  And that enraged her all the more.  Tomorrow she’d kill that damn woman right in front of him and see what he thought of her then.  Oh, he would be angry, but over everything - over even the data - she looked forward to that most.


-------------------------


         Terrace stared hard at the ceiling that night, waiting for sleep to come - for answers to arrive - but knew little of either would.


         Tamaki...on his side?  Even after all these years?  Not knowingly of course, but it certainly was possible.


         Or not.  There was so much unexplained.  Tamaki attacking the guards on the Titan, incapacitating the SEALS teams, even infiltrating the MPG within the Marble Keep.  And yet he had purposely killed no one.


         The answers would come tomorrow.  And for some strange reason the young commander refused to wrap his mind around, he wanted Cecile to be wrong about Tamaki.


-------------------------


         Kenshi felt the sleep always at the back of his mind, but refused to give in.  Should Ruki arrive sleep would give her all the advantage she needed.  Still, the Terran kept a cup of cold water beside him constantly to drink, to splash himself, whatever he needed to keep awake.  All the while his hands clenched and unclenched, almost unconsciously, working the many joints of his fingers.


         Tomorrow he’d put Malcom in his place.  Perhaps even Ruki as well, if she didn’t arrive during the night.  And then...Burlai.


         Some part of his mind questioned at that.  Orlius was long over and Kenshi...he could start a new life here with the MPG.  Alanya was a good kid.  Wouldn’t be tough having to be around her all the time and maybe he could see Narnia every so often as well.  A new life as Jerro Desmond...  He’d have to think about that.
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