Once again, I decided to give NaNoWriMo a shot. I wasn't planning to at first, but when October 31st came to an end, I had a story idea that excited me, at least for a week or so. It was a pretty basic space opera adventure idea, but I knew where I wanted to start and had a vague idea of where I wanted it to go. I think being some NaNoWriMo groups over the past year or so is starting to rub off on me!
Unfortunately, I didn't get very far, totalling in just over 6000 words, which is why you'll only be seeing the story in text below. I didn't think it was really all that necessary to make a PDF or ebook for something that small. I've also included a few notes at the end that reflect what I was thinking for the next few beats of the story. I don't know if it's anything too fantastic, and it's certainly not original, but I figured some folks might be interested in it.
---
The Emperor’s Secret
Minerva Nocarte ran down the well-lit hallway, her breathing raspy but regular. She ignored the various panels and screens she passed, desperate to get away from her pursuers. The hallway took a hard left, but she stumbled, causing her to careen into the wall in front of her. She grimaced, but stayed on her feet. With her left hand, she clutched her right shoulder, which had been shot by a laser, which was not bleeding due to the cauterized nature of the wound. Her right hand held her own laser pistol, recently stolen from one of the guards. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself forward. She knew she needed to get off this ship!
She didn’t know the layout of the starship, as she had been stuck in the holding cells for who knows how long, but she could tell it was a pretty typical design for an imperial carrier. As long as she could keep some distance between her and the stormtroopers, she figured she could find the docking bay and steal a small-range fighter or something like that. Of course, she didn’t know what part of the galaxy she was in or where she would go from there, but she decided to just focus on one thing at a time.
The hallway eventually reached a four-way intersection, and Minerva slowed down to take a quick peek around the corners to see what awaited her. The hall to her right went about 10 feet, then ended at some double doors with windows, through which she saw some imperial officers with their backs to the doors, their forest green uniforms and caps standing out against a room full of computers. She certainly didn’t want to deal with that.
The hallway ahead of her continued straight for quite a ways, but in the distance, she could barely make out a larger room where many stormtroopers were running about. Possibly they were looking for her, but she couldn’t tell. The left hallway stopped at a tube-like elevator. She didn’t like her options, but opted to test the elevator. After checking behind her but not seeing anything, she snuck over to the elevator doors.
At first, the elevator doors eased open with a quiet hiss, but as she tried to step into the available vessel, her wrists were suddenly shocked with electricity coming from the prison shackles attached there. She fell to the floor from the pain, but it didn’t last long, and she was able to get back up relatively quickly. She also saw that no one had noticed, thankfully, and she was glad that she hadn’t cried out at the shock.
She looked down at the high-tech shackles: white bands bound in plastic and electronics that were barely an inch thick and quite smooth to the touch. They each had a small panel, but she couldn’t do anything with those as they only responded to the prisoner remotes the guards had, and she didn’t have time to take one. Not sure of what else to do, she reluctantly took the laser pistol and aimed it at one of the shackles by putting the barrel parallel to her arm and holding her other hand down, hoping the blast would just pierce the shackle and nothing else.
Minerva pulled the trigger, and the sound of the blast reverberated around the halls more than she was expecting. She quickly glanced up and saw that the officers had now turned toward the doors, having heard the noise. However, the laser pistol had successfully shot through the shackle, breaking it, and she was able to pull it off with ease. She then switched hands and fired at the other shackle there and was just able to get it off as the officers came through the doors, pushing them outward. She had to switch the laser back to her dominant right hand in order to fire at them just as they pulled out their pistols. She shot one in the chest, and he collapsed to the floor, but missed the other one just as he ducked behind the door. However, other soldiers in the room beyond were also taking notice.
She slipped into the elevator car, and wasn’t interrupted by anything. Quickly finding the “Close Doors” button, she quickly tried to decide which floor to go to. One of them was labeled “M” for Mezzanine, so she punched that, hoping it would put her where she wanted to be. Soon, the car hummed to life, which descended to the lower floors of the ship. She then took a moment to sit down on the floor of the car and catch her breath for a moment. After all she had been through, she couldn’t afford to get caught now.
---
“She’s escaping,” Lieutenant Cepheron noted dryly, stating the obvious. He was standing in a small room with his superior officer as they both looked at an array of screens before them, showing security camera footage. The operator at the desk touched a few keys and two the screens changed to show that Minerva had reached the port-side docking bay and was stealthily making her way to one of the Orion fighters that wasn’t being worked on by the technicians.
Lieutenant Abel Cepheron was a tall, thin man, and very much a career officer. He had a gaunt face that showed his age more clearly than he’d liked, but that also reflected his experience, as also did the greens he wore, having gotten them fifteen years earlier. His hair was starting to turn gray, and he had a few age spots, but otherwise, he was still mostly the same handsome man he knew himself to be.
However, the lieutenant wasn’t feeling particularly cocky at the moment. He glanced down at his superior officer who seemed to be dominating the chair he was sitting in. Dressed in the beige uniform of a general, he was a younger man than Cepheron, with a thick, black beard, thick eyebrows, small eyes, and a massive presence. Easily over six feet tall, and built like a ground tank, General Kelpine was an imposing figure, even in a sitting position. However, Cepheron also knew him to be rather quiet and terse, and as his right-hand man, he had gotten used to prompting him in order to get any kind of word from him. Thus his obvious remark. However, when that didn’t elicit any kind of response, he added a questioning “Sir?” afterwards.
“Yes she is,” Kelpine’s low voice rumbled laconically. “All in good time.”
Cepheron’s head tilted slightly, a bit of an anxious habit that he had developed when things weren’t as clear as he would like.
“Is this . . . wise, sir?” he asked, keeping his tone level. While Kelpine wasn’t angry, Cepheron saw no need to summon that anger. “We’ve spent quite a few resources and lost a few men just to get her. Letting her go now seems wasteful.”
“All in good time,” the general repeated, and Cepheron detected a bit of a sadistic grin beneath the black moss of a beard that covered his chin like overgrown foliage.
Cepheron’s head tilted again, but he kept his peace this time. He also knew that he couldn’t press his superior too often, or he’d certainly face the general’s wrath. He had experienced it only a few times before, but that was enough, and it taught him to appreciate the general’s silence. So he turned his attention back to the screens just in time to see Minerva blast a few more stormtroopers with her stolen pistol, start up one of the spearhead-shaped Orion TX-42 fighters, and charge it out of the docking bay portal into space. He certainly hoped Kelpine had a plan behind this negligence, because he certainly couldn’t see the point of letting her escape.
---
Minerva certainly had no love for the Quellostian Empire, but they certainly knew how to make starships. Probably something to do with extreme efficiency and optimization. In any case, she couldn’t believe her luck. Not only did she get away largely unscathed (she had since wrapped a bandage around her shoulder wound), but this Orion fighter ship was in peak condition and full of fuel. Almost as if it was waiting for her to steal it.
And that made her uncomfortable. As she launched the fighter from the imperial carrier, only two other fighters chased after her, and they gave up the chase relatively quickly. The whole experience, while intense, seemed to feel like she was supposed to escape, like someone directing her through a movie. However, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made.
After doing a quick check to see where in the galaxy she was (half-way between two systems, it seems), she set the ship to autopilot toward a not-too-far waystation, then sat back and thought through the entire experience. She had been minding her own business on the planet Eveross when she suddenly got detained by a pair of imperial detectives. When they tried to arrest her for charges of smuggling contraband, she just figured they were trying to meet a quota and told them to buzz off. Probably not wise, in the moment, but she was in a sour mood that day anyway.
So they cuffed her and dragged her off to some local police station, and she figured they’d lock her up for a day or two, slap a meaningless fine on her, and then let her go. It wasn’t like she had any pressing matters anyway, so she was willing to simply ride this out and move on. However, the next day, when they dragged her out of the cell onto that imperial carrier, she knew she was definitely out of her depth, and had no idea why.
Then came the torture. For day after day, the imperial inquisitors berated and bullied her, demanding some information crucial to the security of the empire. While she wouldn’t have minded having something so powerful, she really did have no idea what they were talking about. However, those answers didn’t satisfy them, so they escalated things. First was physical pain; piercing, slicing, scraping, scalding, and eventually choking, all of which was done in the typical imperium style: direct, clinical, and heartless. However, despite shedding more tears than she thought she was capable of, they switched tactics and brought out the psychics.
Masters of manipulating the mind, the imperial psychics used their powers to probe deep into her memory, her psyche, her heart. At this point, she had hoped that they would just find what they were looking for and end her suffering, but they carried on, day after day after day, drawing out every single one of her memories and examining them like an autopsy. Stuck inside a cell for all of this, time had lost meaning for her. Eventually, she felt very exposed, embarrassed, and ashamed to an intense degree, and she began to wonder if she was even alive anymore.
And then it stopped. It took her a while to notice, as she had nearly lost her senses through this, but when no one came for what felt like days, she was able to mentally scrape herself together. If there was one thing she could be proud of, it was her resilience. While she had never faced anything quite so intense or brutal before, she could always trust in herself to pull through, despite the odds.
Of course, just because the inquisitors had abandoned her didn’t mean she wasn’t getting visitors. A few folks would come by to check her IV and health, usually paired with a guard. After a while, she began to pick up their routines and slowly worked against the leather straps holding her down.
She knew she had to be patient, but it eventually paid off. When the nurse and an accompanying soldier had dropped their guard, she had successfully gotten one of her arms free and stolen the laser pistol from the soldier and shot them both. After loosening the straps from her legs, she then made her way around the ship, only to run into a handful of stormtroopers who quickly gave chase. She had no idea why they stopped following her, but she was grateful that they did, as it allowed her enough time to find this starship and regain her freedom.
Still, the why of it all escaped her. What were they looking for? Why did they think she had it? After reviewing the entire episode, she was left with nothing but questions.
She didn’t dwell on them long, though. Questions didn’t fill the belly or secure the heart. She could look for answers later. Right now, she needed to think about her next plan of action. This Orion fighter was certainly well-made, but its limited fuel would soon run out, and refueling it would not only be expensive, but probably draw the attention of more imperials, and she certainly didn’t want to deal with them again.
Minerva had directed the ship to a waystation when she set the autopilot. It was pretty far away from any civilized system, but it could certainly provide food and shelter, if temporarily. She would definitely need more luck before she could truly feel like she had escaped the clutches of the empire.
---
Back aboard the imperial carrier, designated QITS033, General Kelpine was calmly but purposefully walking down the hall to a meeting room near the bridge of the ship. There has been a meeting called by the Emperor himself, and Kelpine was certainly not going to risk failing to follow the order. Cepheron was walking just behind him, completely collected on the outside, but nervous about the purpose of the meeting. It’s not often that the Emperor calls all his generals together for a teleconference.
The two of them walked into the teleconference room and saw that others had already assembled, mostly digitally. While a majority of the generals simply appeared on holographic screens hovering above chairs, there were two other people in the room physically. One was the teleconference operator, and would simply make sure everything functioned during the meeting. The other was General Irenea.
One of the few female Generals, Byrrett Irenea was notorious within the Empire for her short temper and high expectations. While all the generals were not to be trifled with, Irenea was direct, loud, and impatient, and usually full of ambition. She was a little shorter, had a very stern face and a tight military haircut. Her beige uniform was neatly pressed and wrinkle free. She also exuded a presence of excellence that seemed nearly boastful, though she never smiled. Of course, it would be easy for the other generals to simply ignore her as a mere sycophant, but her continual string of military successes had put her very much in the spotlight among the imperial cause of expansion. A few of the lower officers were even suggesting that she was the best of the generals as in the whole empire, and might even be chosen to be the new imperial head of the military.
General Irenea saw Kelpine walk into the room and regarded him with suspicious eyes but said nothing, quickly turning her attention back to the main screen that simply showed the Quellostian Imperial Sigil in anticipation of the Emperor’s appearance. Kelpine took his seat at the table, with Cepheron standing behind him in accordance with imperial guidelines. It turned out he was the last one to “arrive,” and when the teleconference operator confirmed they were all “present,” he pushed a button, sending a signal to the Emperor. Soon afterward, the Emperor’s face appeared on the main screen.
Anyone looking at Emperor Ulysses Fallack could see that he was dying. Despite his grand efforts to expand the Quallostian control of the galaxy, he could not fend off old age, though it certainly wasn’t from a lack of trying. While some of the generals thought he would be doing them a favor by just dying and letting his great-grandson, the young prince, take his place, Emperor Fallack had resorted to medical extremes to keep himself alive and in control. Having passed his one-hundredth birthday more than a decade ago, he clearly looked like skin over bones. And yet, there was a fire still in his eyes that never seemed to fade or show signs of decay. While his body was barely hanging on, his mind was as sharp as ever.
Dressed in his imperial robes of black and purple and sitting on one of his ostentatious thrones, he silently regarded each of the generals on his screen before speaking. “This will be short,” he stated, his words slurring a little. “There is a situation that I have been loosely aware of for some time now, but only had considered them rumors or idle thoughts. However, my intelligence network, the Black Eye, has confirmed them to be true. I was going to hold my silence at first, but given the extent of what has been reported, I will not hold back any longer.”
He then took a moment to take in a few breaths. Even just saying that much seemed to be taxing. He reached for a black bottle that contained some water and took a sip before continuing on.
“One of you is a traitor,” he stated simply. He paused as the generals briefly gasped then shut their mouths in fear of making themselves seem suspicious. Irenea didn’t flinch. Kelpine took stock of everyone’s reactions.
“As you well know, the punishment for treason is clear. I will not tolerate someone trying to dethrone me while the Empire is at its height. I know I’ve often encouraged competition among you in an effort to get better results, but this has gone far enough!” The Emperor’s anger shook his voice, and he sat up from his chair a little from the passion. However, it passed just as briefly as it came, and he fell back with a flump. Breathing hard again, it took him several seconds to find his voice again. However, the generals said nothing, partially because they were used to the Emperor’s speaking habits, but also for fear of becoming a target of his wrath.
“You know who you are, and I am coming for you. If you come forward now, I will give you the mercy of a quick death. Any delay you take will result not only in a painful destruction, but the destruction of your family and possessions, into oblivion!” the Emperor stated, more subdued, but just as threatening. “If any of you have something to say regarding this revelation, do so now.”
However, the generals stayed silent. A few were sweating a little, but they all maintained a stoic disposition, unwilling to betray any kind of emotion or attitude that could be misinterpreted. After a minute, the Emperor grew angry again.
“Fine!” he shouted. “Play your pathetic game of intrigue, if you must, but bear in mind that there is nothing holding me back from crushing you into nothing. And that goes for all of you! If you cannot find it within yourself to express your loyalty to the Empire here and now, I expect you to do so soon. That is all.” With that, the Emperor’s screen jumped back to the image of the sigil, ending the meeting. At this, the generals attending virtually all blipped out one by one, leaving the room with just four people. The teleconference operator then turned up the lights, thanked them for attending, and then left the room to handle the rest of his duties. This left the Generals Irenea and Kelpine simply sitting there, silently, and soon, the tension in the room began to bother Cepheron enough that he cleared his throat just to disrupt it even a little.
“The Emperor didn’t say who it was,” Irenea stated drolly, finally breaking the silence. She wasn’t looking at either of the men, though, instead intent on staring off into her own space.
“Of course not. He doesn’t know who it is,” Kelpine muttered tersely. He shifted his weight back in the chair a little, his size dominating this one as much as any of the others he sat in.
“And I’m guessing you do?” Irenea asked, finally looking at Kelpine with suspicion.
However, he responded with a shrug. “It’s just sheer logic. If he knew who it was, he wouldn’t have hesitated calling them out in the meeting. He isn’t a patient man. But he didn’t do that. He was hoping he could provoke something by holding this meeting, and it clearly didn’t work.”
Irenea gave him a brief, condescending smile before returning to her natural stoic form. “Always keeping your cards close to your chest, aren’t you?” she said. Kelpine just simply smiled underneath his bushy black beard and said nothing. After a moment, she stood up in a huff and marched out of the room. “Fine,” she said in passing, “Keep your secrets, but know that I’m watching you.” She then stormed out of the room.
Once the door shut, Cepheron could hear Kelpine chuckling to himself. He was already nervous over the exchange they just had and, compounded with the Emperor’s declaration of a traitor, he began to wonder just how in over his head he really was. Now that his immediate superior was laughing, he felt completely unsettled.
“Are you up to something?” he nervously ventured, his voice sounding thin in his ears.
“She’s a very fun woman to tease,” Kelpine answered vaguely, still smiling.
“Sir?”
But Kelpine just kept chuckling, standing to his full height and stretching. Then he turned around to head out. “Let’s get back to our duties,” he said simply, reaching out a large arm around Cepheron’s shoulders to guide him out with him.
“What about Minerva?” he asked.
“You leave that to me, Lieutenant,” he stated, and when Cepheron looked his superior officer in his deep, black eyes, he saw a twinkle there that he wasn’t sure made him feel excited or scared.
---
Garrond Waystation was a pretty unique point between the two major systems it sat between. While there was a decent amount of space traffic from one system to the other and back, there were much bigger Waystations that handled far bigger ships, such as the Imperial freighters and carriers. Garrond was certainly more out of the way, and less restrictive, as they didn’t get very much attention from the empire, making an ideal hub for those who worked outside of the law.
The Waystation was sizable enough, though, as its two dockyards sat on opposites of a large lobby, which featured various stores and restaurants, as well as a large seating area. Further back in the halls were offices for various guilds and trade organizations. The interior almost had the feel of an old shopping mall, with kiosks working as job boards that ranged from standard commissions to ones that were highly illegal.
Tayron Highland didn’t always like doing dirty jobs, but for a trader and smuggler, sometimes the dirty jobs were the only ones available. At least at the moment, he didn’t have any such jobs, but looking over the electronic job board that was hosted by the Waystation, there were far more illegal offers than not, and more than there used to be. He knew the Empire was getting bigger and trying to flex their power by cracking down on things and demanding higher taxes, so he wasn’t exactly surprised, but it still wasn’t a good sign for a career trader like him.
He exited out of his account on the kiosk and took a few steps aside to rub his face with his hands. Work was definitely getting slim these days, and he knew he’d catch hell from his wife for not finding anything new, but his ship wasn’t exactly the most powerful or even particularly fast. It was a standard, even non-descript, trader ship of the Fidalt variety that he had gotten used several years ago. The thing was barely holding together with gaffer tape, spit, and prayers, and there was always repair costs for every trip they took, eating into their budget. And now that the Empire was making things worse, it was hard to find a bright spot in his life.
Fortunately, one did come towards him, the one he had asked to marry him a few years earlier, and much to his surprise, she had said yes. Jessica Starfield was a tall woman, with a light brown skin tone and a graceful glide to her pace. Even though she was wearing some very basic clothes (a white blouse, some black jeans, a pair of loop earrings, sneakers), the way she walked made them seem like the highest of fashion. She was also bringing some iced drinks for both of them, and he was certainly grateful for something refreshing.
“Did you find anything?” she asked, and Tayron grimaced, revealing the answer to that question. She just looked at him scornfully, but he could tell she wasn’t too serious.
“It was all shady stuff, really,” Tayron tried to explain, but she just sighed in response. “And it’s not like transporting pig feed is the worst thing in the world,” he added, hoping to improve her mood.
“I know,” she said in a resigned manner. “We should be grateful for consistent work. Not every job can be like the Carlisle deal.”
“You may like the excitement, but I was more than glad when that was over. I certainly don’t want to have to ship grenades again!” He laughed at the memory of that job as it was quite the harrowing adventure. While he didn’t mind a bit of excitement now and then, that job they did for Carlisle was much more than he was willing to handle. However, he knew that Jessica had loved the experience, and it wasn’t the first time she had implied a desire for a greater sense of danger. Again, he wondered how he had ever succeeded in marrying such a lively and beautiful woman. Even though he looked more like a typical space-farer in his flight jacket and brown slacks, he still felt inferior standing next to her.
“The Yellow Hawk is still refueling,” she then stated laconically, and Tayron was thankful for the topic change. He wasn’t surprised by the information, though, as his ship (well, actually, it was their ship now, he reminded himself) took a while to prepare for more travel. He has personally installed the bigger fuel tank for his fourth-light drive as he didn’t want to ever be stranded out in space, floating slowly on sheer momentum. Of course, that did increase costs every time it needed to be refueled, so the cost-effectiveness was debatable. Especially since the old faulty engine wasn’t the most efficient with its fuel.
“Then maybe we should find a room for the time being, get some decent rest,” Tayron suggested.
Jessica looked at him with a suspicious smile. “Right, I know what you mean when you say ‘rest,’ “ she responded. Tayon couldn’t exactly deny the implied accusation.
As they were making their way across the lobby of the waystation over to the hotel sector, they noticed someone else coming across from the docking bay. While the lobby was quite large, with more than a handful of people going about their business, this stranger clearly stood out as she was wearing the iconic orange and black jumpsuit of an imperial prisoner. Other folks had noticed her, and largely gave her space, hoping she would ignore them. People in this Waystation weren’t really loyal to the empire, but at the same time, they generally knew trouble when they saw it.
Unfortunately, Jessica loved trouble. Just as Tayron was about to turn to his wife and make a remark about the former prisoner, he saw that she had already started speed-walking towards her with an eager look in her eye. At this, Tayron just slapped his face with his spare hand and proceeded to start walking after his beloved, knowing that she was dragging them in over their heads once again.
The three had quickly found a dingy diner in the waystation to talk with the prisoner named Minerva, who ate hungrily at the burger and spicy fries they had ordered for her. Her story was certainly strange, having been detained and suddenly tortured for no discernable reason, but it wasn’t hard to pity her, as she was much like them: someone who found business on the edges of society.
Tayron still felt unnerved about the possibilities. Why did the empire care so much about this random woman? Would they also end up on their watch lists, potentially with bounties on their heads? What could they even do for her, in the long run? As far he could tell, it was just another string of headaches with little to no payout.
However, Jessica was completely engrossed. Apparently she had some history with Eveross (and she definitely was the type to find any way to stick to the Quellostian Empire, even in small, petty ways), so she was already brainstorming possibilities of what they could do for her or where they could take her.
Tayron casually reminded her that they were still due to carry that pig feed to Polina III, as they did have a contract, but Jessica was willing to weave that into her plans, thinking that such a trip might throw the Empire off of Minerva’s trail. She was already discussing the possibility of going even further clockwise around the galaxy to Novala or even West Carsh to find a place for her to hide.
“I’m not going to just carry her like cargo,” Tayron insisted, making it clear he wasn’t going to give a free ride.
“Oh don’t be so stingy!” Jessica scolded. “She’s clearly been through a lot!”
“No, it’s fine,” Minerva stated. She had already cleared her plate, even eating the piece of parsley put there for garnish. “I’ve worked on a starship many times before, and I’d probably just feel antsy if I didn’t have anything to do.”
“What can you do?” Tayron asked, ignoring his wife’s scowl as he shifted to more of an interview tone.
Minerva's gaze went blank as she thoughtfully considered the question. “Well, I’m pretty good with my hands, fixing machines and electronics. I’m also pretty good with a laser pistol, though I suppose you’d rather not have to get to that point any time soon. I’m a decent pilot, an okay cook, and . . . oh! I’m a very good Quick Spice card player!” She added that last bit with a very bright smile.
“Quick Spice?” Jessica repeated, skeptical that it would even count as a skill.
“Hey, I was able to win a string of tournaments that the prize money alone let me live in the High Skies sector of Eveross for over a month!” Minerva boasted.
“Really?” Tayron said, now rather intrigued. He certainly liked the game, himself, but he was a pretty average player. If she could teach him a few tricks along the way, then maybe taking her along would be worth it.
Maybe.
---
General Kelpine had never been a part of the Black Eye, the Empire’s premier spy network, but he had learned more than a few of their techniques. When their carrier had docked at Quellost Alpha for fuel, supplies, and leave for the soldiers, he had secretly made his way into the lower district of the tiered capital city of Equixa. Leaving his uniform behind, he dressed in very casual clothes: a polo shirt, some dark slacks, a black windbreaker. He knew going out in full cloak and hood was suspicious on its own, but if he looked more like a tourist, folks wouldn’t look twice. He even shaved his black, scraggly beard, revealing a pair of chubby cheeks and an old scar made by an enemy’s knife more than half a life-time ago.
He had scheduled this discreet appointment many weeks before, but he still was slightly nervous that the other man might not show up. Eventually, ducking through various streets in a casual manner, he reached a rundown warehouse that once held boxes of grain and vegetables. The smell of dried foodstuffs still lingered along with the dust. He didn’t know this place, but that gave him a small bit of comfort. Getting familiar with a place when dealing with assassins and spies is a bad idea anyway.
After he entered the warehouse, carefully closing the metal door so as to not make any unnecessary noise, he walked over to a door on the other side of the open floor. He found that it was unlocked, turned the handle, and took a step inside.
“Don’t turn on the light,” a gravelly voice ordered.
“I wasn’t going to,” Kelpine responded. It was pretty dim, but it looked like an old lunch room for the former employees. The few vending machines looked drastically out of order, but there was at least one table with a few chairs, which in one was sitting another man, shrouded in complete black. His clothes seemed to blend in perfectly with the shadows, and even his skin, what little of it could be seen, was made artificially black, almost like obsidian. Even his eyes and nose were covered with black cloth, leaving only his mouth visible on his entire head. However, Kelpine recognized him immediately as his old childhood friend, Ordo.
“Are you still following the girl,” Kelpine asked, taking a seat in one of the other old chairs at the table. It was largely made of plastic and metal, likely cheap, and yet sturdy enough to feel stable under his massive frame.
“Getting right to business, eh?” Ordo responded, smiling. Even his teeth were shaded darker so as not to stand out in the darkness, Kelpine noticed.
“Just making sure I’m not wasting your time,” Kelpine replied with a casual, friendly tone.
“She apparently made it to Garrond Waystation and for some reason has gotten picked up by some smugglers. We could have taken her back at any moment there if it weren’t for your orders to only follow. I still don’t think this is a good plan.” Ordo then shrugged.
“Well, I don’t doubt my sources. She is vital to my plans. If she is the key to dethroning the Emperor, then I want to know it is. However, torturing her gave me nothing, which makes me believe she doesn’t even know what she may possess. Continuing would have been a waste of time. If I’m going to find out what she has and how to use it, I’m going to require more subtlety,” Kelpine explained.
“Very well,” Ordo said with a sigh. “I’ve got my best to agents on her tail, and following the starship she boarded to Polina III shouldn’t be a problem. It’s just hard for them to continue to just sit and watch if they don’t know what to act on.”
“Just keep me informed. I have a new encrypted communicator, which should ensure that we don’t need to meet like this often.” Kelpine then pulled out a small, flat piece of electronics from his pants pocket and handed it over the table.
“But then we’d miss out on our wonderful conversations! Surely, you enjoy spending your time with me,” Ordo teased, his snake-like voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Indeed,” Kelpine tersely replied with a smile, appreciating Ordo’s charm. For all his skill in stealth, Ordo certainly had a way with people, and that was something Kelpine was eager to stay on the good side. Even if Ordo wasn’t the head of the order, having an in with the Black Eye was as valuable as any of the systems in the galaxy.
Ordo took the new communication device, turned it on, and started working his way through it. “Seems like a solid piece of tech. Is it Hyraki’s work?”
“No comment,” Kelpine said, with a smile. Ordo chuckled.
“Very well. I suppose you're a busy man. I won’t keep you from your next tryst,” Ordo teased, standing up.
Kelpine stood as well. “Hopefully, in the future, we won’t have to meet in such low quality locations.” He winked at his friend. Then he watched as the black-dressed man seemed to fade into the shadows as if he belonged to them, before disappearing out of sight completely. Kelpine may have learned a few things about how the Black Eye works, but that one was certainly beyond his comprehension. There wasn’t even a door or window in the direction he went.
Shaking his head, he walked back out the way he came, again being careful to keep the noise down as he opened and closed the metal door. For all of Ordo’s jests, Kelpine did have a schedule to keep, and there was one other person he needed to talk to before he could be confident about his plans moving forward.
---
That's pretty much it. Some basic notes:
- The galaxy this story takes place in is a peculiar arrange of four systems rotating around a gravitational anomaly. The systems are equidistant from each other, like the directions of a compass, as they rotate around. When measuring the length of this galaxy, from the end of one system to the end of its opposite system on the other, the result is about one light year. As technology developed on these systems, they were eventually able to make spacecraft travel up to 1/4th the speed of light, calling them fourth-light engines. Other technologies were developed to help people withstand such speeds within the space ships.
- As for the story, another galactic power, one keen on limiting the Empire’s conquest, learns about two Black Eye agents following this random prisoner, but not bringing her in, so they take an interest. Probably by sending an agent of their own to help protect her.
- It turns out that Minerva is an illegitimate child of the Emperor. I’m not quite sure how she’ll figure this out, as she doesn’t remember her own parents, having been orphaned as a babe and living on the streets of Eveross her whole life. Maybe her and her new friends will encounter a deep psychic?
- Kelpine has learned about the secret from one of the deep psychics that are banned in the Empire. Only officially sanctioned, and thus faithful and loyal, psychics can work in the Empire, but Kelpine was able to find another that was not bound to the Emperor.
- I haven't decided if Irenea will resist Kelpine or be convinced to work with him. Kelpine wants to overthrow the Emperor because he thinks the Emperor is being too greedy and causing the Empire to overreach. Even if the Emperor died, the young prince is very much indoctrinated in his grandfather's rhetoric, but having another potential heir could give Kepline the leverage he needs to gain more power.
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