Her father had referred to it as a noble war room, but she’d since learned it was just a standard planning sitting room, designed so discussions of important galactic matters and state could take place in relative comfort with all the required amenities. On one side of the room stood an oversized conference table surrounded by cushioned couches of exquisite design. On the other side sat groupings of cushioned chairs set in such a way that many intimate meetings could take place simultaneously. In the center of the 50 meter high, domed ceiling protruded a an oversized, semi-spherical PDU, which allowed for massive projections that could be viewed clearly from anywhere within. It was exactly the type of room they needed for their current meeting, and she was glad they'd listened to her mother’s advice.
After court had adjourned, Vahna had kindly demanded that they accompany her on a tour of their private apartments, which lasted almost four hours. She wanted to refuse, Trent still in obvious pain. But he just smiled when she used that excuse, nodding that he would be ok. So after they finished the tour, and had a light meal, they'd moved to the closest sitting room, one designed solely for comfort. Her mother would have none of it, leading them to the noble war room where they then convened to discuss the important matters of today’s events.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly. Vin, a Program...an actual Program?” Sasha nodded to her father, who sat up straight in his couch, or as straight as his hunched back would allow, “that resides within the Arm of the Emperor, recorded today's court and analyzed the voice patterns of all present, then provided you a mapping of the ruling nobles who disagreed with your decisions?” King Johan asked, unable to keep disbelief from slipping into his words.
Sasha couldn't help but smile. “Yes, Father. I do not know exactly why, but the Program in the Arm of the Emperor is much more intrusive then any I have ever encountered or heard of,” Sasha responded before Trent, pulling her gaze from Terra and Ocio, her mother's catillian, who played on the conference table's rose wood surface.
“Fascinating,” her mother whispered, still fixated on the galaxy map projected above, small portions of which were highlighted yellow, indicating the noble houses that Vin had discerned disagreed with their new policies.
“Agents of the Emperor,” whispered her father under his breath.
“What are Agents of the Emperor?” she asked. Her father's head shot up, apparently surprised that someone overheard him.
“Just something cryptic the emperor wrote me in his last message, nothing of great importance. Let me show you something.” Her father's expression went distant, the galaxy map being overlaid by red and blue highlights.
Half the galaxy, including the majority of the space previously highlighted yellow, turned red. The rest, excluding the tiny black oval representing the space controlled by the Anti-Sapien Unification, turned blue.
“The red is loyal to Duke Zehman, the blue to me,” he explained swiftly. Sasha stared at her father, stunned. The King’s Fleet far outnumbered the fleets of all the dukes that supported Duke Zehman combined. So why is he waiting to remove the traitorous nobility?
“This should answer the question you raised earlier, Sir Trent,” her father started before she could ask. “If I attempt to eliminate Duke Zehman by force, I will also be required to purge half the nobility in the galaxy. The result would be a massive destabilization while new heirs are vested, new families assigned, and internal wrangling dealt with. The emperor believes, though I do partially disagree, that it may present the ASU a reason to muster a full scale assault. If this occurs, and the Vn'Oco Battle Fleet cannot respond to any incursion that pass through The Wall and Emperor’s Wall Fleet, we may be faced with a large number of human colonies being captured or razed.” Sasha glanced at Trent, who was rubbing his chin in thought.
The memory of what occurred when Trent and her father had spoken for the first time returned. She knew Trent was honest, but to call out the most powerful man in the galaxy, plus the father of his new wife, within minutes of meeting him, was beyond even what Sasha thought possible for him. But her father had reacted like no one could have possibly expected, with genuine delight, seeming refreshed at Trent's ignoble bluntness, and they had been close ever since.
“To an extent, Your Majesty,” Trent sat up at her side, leaning across the table, “but leaving someone like Duke Zehman in power cannot be tolerated, no matter the consequence. What if his assassination attempts succeed? You don't think a man such as he will quit just because we stopped him a few times?” Again, Sasha found herself taken by surprise at Trent's heated response. But she did wholeheartedly agree with him.
“I do concur, Sir Trent, but unfortunately I may be removed from my position, along with my family, if I act against the emperor’s will,” Johan stated with open arms, staring gravely at Sasha, then Vahna, who seemed to ignore his words.
“There must be a way,” Trent trailed off, appearing deep in thought.
“Oh...I believe there is, Sir Trent...which is why I will stay silent about your “illegal” decree pronouncing death for one of my dukes. In fact, I may spread said decree to the services with an unofficial understanding that since it was a ruling of a grand duchess, the order may just be legal,” King Johan smiled sharply, but Trent frowned.
“I'd much rather be direct. I feel-,” he froze midsentence and looked to Sasha. “No, I've already decided I would dirty myself to protect Sasha, to protect those she loves. If we must resort to underhanded tactics to remove the threat of Duke Zehman, then I will help in any way necessary.” Trent said with a nod. Sasha felt her love for him flow even stronger and noticed an odd look appear within her father's eyes.
“Such love...you are a lucky one, my dear,” her mother sighed as she stood with a grace that still put Sasha to shame. She glided around the conference table to their side, squeezing onto the couch next to Trent, which was already fully occupied.
“Mother!” Sasha pulled Trent away when she noticed him wince.
“Oh, your poor shoulder, dear. I am so very sorry,” Vahna apologized profusely, sitting instead in the adjacent couch.
“It's alright, you meant no harm.” Trent smiled weakly. Her father, however, watched the exchange with distant eyes as Sir Seb'Losh stormed into the sitting room, twelve combat armored ABF Battleguards on his heels. To her amazement, the battleguards rushed quickly across the room and took up positions between the Royal Guards lining the walls and those seated at the table. Training took over as the Royal Guards detected a threat, reacting immediately, lunging toward the ABF Battleguards who quickly subdued them with their enhanced strength.
“Stand down!” Sir Seb'Losh ordered.
“What is the meaning of this!” Johan shouted as he rushed to his feet, as confused as she.
“Your Majesty, I'm sorry for intruding, but your Royal Guard has been infiltrated,” responded Sir Seb'Losh. Her father, stunned, stared around the room in disbelief.
“That is impossible! These are all loyal men of Vn'Oco!” he told, though his words sounded uncertain in light of Sir Seb'Losh's accusations.
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but we have proof. Two of your Royal Guards were overheard plotting an assassination attempt of the grand duchess and fortuitously one of the two eavesdroppers was able to escape. The other, a guard trainee, was beaten nearly to death before the culprits were located,” Sasha's heart skipped a beat, her mind crying out, knowing there was currently only one Alutia Guard trainee on Alutia'Earth.
“Donnlie!” Tiana shouted. Sir Seb'Losh nodded. Vickie sprinted towards the door.
“Where's Regalia?” Sasha asked, panic rising, knowing that Donnlie was always with her.
“She is safe, Your Grace. She's with Donnlie now in the medical clinic. Regalia was the one that overheard the conversation. From her words, we were quickly able to locate Donnlie and apprehend one of the two Royal Guards responsible, who quickly admitted, after some coercing, the planned assassination and the name of the man who ordered it,” Sir Se
b’Losh paused, clenching his jaw as he stared across the room, a name flashing within her mind.
“Duke Zehman.” he confirmed. Anger erupted within her, but not all her own, most originating from her bond with Trent, who stood like a statue beside her. Before anyone could respond, Vickie rushed past the guards at the door, followed closely by Tiana.
“Stop!” Sir Seb'Losh's cried, but neither listened. “You two, protect them with your lives, it's still not safe!” Sir Seb'Losh pointed to the two battleguards standing by the door, who rushed after her two ladies without word.
“This is unbelievable,” Johan muttered, turning to the one of the Royal Guards still pinned to the wall. “Knight Captain Rillia, what is the meaning of this?” he demanded, a hint of uncertainly in his tone. Sir Rillia shook his head in response, eyes showing his own confusion before they fell shut, he whispering into the combat PDU on his ear.
“I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I do not know. Almost a forth of the guard is not responding, the rest are cooperating with the ABF,” Trent hurried before the man, pulling Sasha along behind him, she unable to resist squeaking in surprise.
“Are you loyal to the king?” Sir Rillia peered at Trent dubiously, but responded immediately.
“With my life.” Trent nodded and turned to Sir Seb'Losh.
“He's telling the truth.” They quickly moved between the other guards, who were also loyal, then returned to the table.
“Your Majesty, I would recommend requiring all your personnel to be truth tested by the Program,” Trent advised, his voice having turned to iron command, the same as the time when they first landed on Alutia'Earth. But Sasha found the recommendation odd. Why would he suggest using a Program for such a thing? Her question answered itself when she recalled his story from his time on Earth, and the short time he had been an official member of the Terra Space Battalion.
The TSB, as it was known, had multiple Programs available for nonstandard requests, due to its unique purpose, and had used them quite frequently, unlike in the NHA, who normally reserve communicating with Programs to when major decisions needed to be made. The king stared at Trent, obviously confused, still seeming to have yet comprehended what was going on around him. Trent seemed to notice this as well and turned back to Sir Seb'Losh.
“Find a good location, use the grand court if you have to, and get the Program to carry out truth tests on the Royal Guards. If any are found be lying...have them shot on sight,” Trent ordered. Sasha squeezed his arm as his words sunk in, knowing that from his own proclamation anyone loyal to Duke Zehman who entered the Alutia Duchy, life was forfeit. “Contact Knight Admiral Bhool as well and have her carefully take up position around the escorting Royal Fleet...” Trent let his words fade as Johan, who had finally begun recovering his wits when Trent mentioned his personal fleet, eyes came alive.
“Rillia, contact the fleet and order all officers to the surface. Do not let them know why, just have them rotate down,” the king ordered, turning to Sir Seb’Losh. “Truth test them as well, if any are found lying, along with the Royal Guards, you have my permission to dispose of them in any way you deem fit,” both Sir Rillia and Sir Seb’Losh saluted, then went to work, King Johan turning to her and Trent. “I am so very sorry, my daughter, Sir Trent, I never knew the man had the audacity to slip assassins into my own Royal Guards,” he said with obvious remorse. She released Trent and hurried to her father’s side, hugging him with all her love.
“Your Majesty, two frigates of the Royal Fleet are trying to run, your orders?” King Johan released her, his steel-like exterior returning in an instant.
“Destroy them.”
The order brought memories flooding back of the time before, when friend turned to foe, and a world was lost. Trent, sensing her despair, wrapped her in a strong embrace.
“Never again...my love...never again...”
Chapter 6
“Prince Georigi, we've been instructed to return with all haste. We must hurry back to your apartment without delay,” Guard Tul'Dor urged as Georigi peered around the next corner, scanning the hallway beyond and finding it empty. He continued on.
“Something is amiss and my honor will not allow me to ignore this situation,” Georigi replied clearly.
Tul’Dor hurried back to his side. “But-but, Your Highness, from the reports we received, it seems the king's own guard was infiltrated by assassins! It's unheard of and not safe for you to be about!” Prince Georigi sighed, knowing there was no getting through to Tul'Dor, he having been assigned by his overprotective mother.
“Return to the room if you must, but I will venture forth and carry out my duty as a noble,” he stated sharply. Tul’Dor fell silent, moving reluctantly to join the other guards who followed close behind. It is my duty to help in any way I can, he knew, especially after the disgrace he had shown Sir Trent and Grand Duchess Sasha upon his arrival.
The palace hallways were eerily silent, allowing him to move swiftly towards the royal apartments. When he turned a corner to enter a concourse, a distant movement caught his eye. He pushed himself flat against the wall, sliding forward till he was blocked by one of the columns lining its length. Two men wearing black and purple livery, Vn’Oco Royal Guards, approached at a near sprint, carrying a bound and gagged woman wearing a gown of the darkest crimson.
“On me, I want them alive if possible,” Georigi ordered. The guards didn't respond, just stared at him, expressions uncertain, but none daring to question his resolve.
He peered at the approaching men, who glanced constantly over their shoulders, more concerned with potential pursuers then anyone waiting in ambush. “Now,” he hissed, spinning from his hiding spot a moment before they reached him.
He lunged forward, taking the lead guard by complete surprise, tackling him with his full weight to send them both flying to the stone tiled floor. His guards followed close behind, pinning the stunned man while easily wrestling the other to the floor. Georigi swiftly moved to the unconscious woman's side, pulling free the gag and releasing the auto-restraints that bound her wrists.
His heart stopped.
A single brown braid weaved with skillful perfection flowed over the cheek of an angel, reminding him of the statues of the star god’s handmaidens that lined the path to the Altar of Offering upon the snowy plain just outside his childhood home. He moved it aside, a tingle rising through his flesh at the touch, like the braid itself was unworldly. The features beyond made his heart run aflutter. They were of mountains, not hard and rocky, but sharp and subtle, revealing a noble mix of beauty and strength his heart told must be hidden within. Without pause, his fingertips outlined her cheek and jaw, his gentle touch causing her to stir. Her eyes shot open, seeming born from an amethyst star, then cooled as she glanced carefully to her sides, finding her captures subdued.
“Are you alright, My Lady?” he questioned, hoping she would say no.
“Yes, thanks to you, Prince Georigi,” her words struck his heart. She knows me! No greater thing is possible in the universe, it screamed.
“You have me at a disadvantage, My Lady. You know of I, but I have yet to acquaint a beauty such as you,” he stated honestly.
“You will forgive me, Your Highness,” her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed like the rising sun. “I am Lady Vickie, lady-in-waiting to the Grand Duchess Sasha Alutia,” she gushed, embracing him fully.
“My Lady!” he blustered, trying to remove himself. “You mustn't! There are proper-,” she placed a single finger to his lips.
“At least allow me to properly thank my hero, My Lord. But as you say, time is short and it is not safe. Duke Zehman's men have infiltrated the Royal Guard and are planning an assassination of the grand duchess,” Prince Georigi's blood drained to his feet. What dishonor is this?
“This is grave news, My Lady. But fear not, I will not allow any harm to befall you while in your company,” he reassured. She gasped dramatically, taking him by surprise, then leaned in, pressing her lips to his. All thoughts
vanished, his mind cracking to tumble free.
She pulled away, staring deep into his eyes. “If the harm came from you, My Lord, I would be of a mind to not resist,” she whispered, her declaration made all the more intense by her sultry tone. He blushed, trying to regain his feet without stuttering. But the smile she provided him forced him back to one knee.
“My Lady, allow me to protect you!” he begged. Lady Vickie seemed taken aback by his proclamation, but quickly put forward her hand.
“Of course, I accept you and your men temporarily into my service. I am currently on my way to the medical clinic to visit a young boy who was gravely injured informing us of Duke Zehman's most foul plot,” she told, placing her other hand to her heart. The words struck him fully, calling forth joy at the honor of the boy’s actions, but fear at the gravity of what she had just told.
“Young boy? What has befallen, My Lady?” asked Georigi with concern.
Vickie’s expression turned grave. “A 12 year old Alutia Guard trainee...he and his lady overheard the heinous plotting, and he drew the traitorous guards away so his lady could flee to safety.” Tears burst forth from his eyes; such honor this boy of 12 had shown, then faded, he knowing, quite clearly, that his own honor now stood on the line. I must show Lady Vickie I am worthy of her favor, he reaffirmed.
He turned his attention back to her captors. “You two! What devilish deed were you planning for the Lady Vickie?” he asked heatedly. The older of the two Royal Guards closed his eyes, looking away. Georigi nodded to his guard, who knocked the man out cold.
“You, answer me,” he glared at the other.
The younger guard’s eyes went wide with fear. “I'm sorry. They said I would be brought up on treason if I didn't go along with their plan. Nobody knows what's going on, but the king is in danger,” the man cried. Georigi deemed himself a fine judge of character, and this young man seemed to him, not to be lying.
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