by Skyler Grant
Maia continued, the holographic display flickering to display a figure. The girl looked to be twenty at the oldest, tall and thin with blonde hair coming down to the her middle of her back, and her attire an intricate web of white and gold.
"Princess Vixana. Heiress to the Ixoki fortune, wife to Prince Delok who was third in line for the throne. With over one hundred worlds under her command she has vast resources and much of the nobility are impressed by her claims," Maia said.
"Is she the strongest claim right now?" Tamara asked.
"She stayed out of the fighting in the early days. Could hardly do much else, her mercenaries weren't much match for the military vessels. The strategy paid off and, yes, she is, as of now, the most likely to sweep things," Maia said, flipping the holo to another image.
The new figure would have had a hard time looking more different. A man in his eighties, he had a savage scar running down the middle of his face, and he dressed in armor.
"I don't like the looks of him," Quinn said.
"Marquis Kadello. The Emperor's enforcer, and for over forty years he has been invading alien worlds, stamping out rebellions, and crushing noble houses that got out of line. Initially unpopular, he's gained support as instability flourishes and people want a strong presence," Maia said.
"For now, the major target of our operations. I'm a more palatable peace-bringer," Joline said.
The image flickered again, this time Quinn recognized the man. Quinn had been locked up on his dungeon, once.
"Lord Barr. Pirates almost killed him in an attack on his estate at the start of a conflict, but since then he's put together a confederation of over forty dissatisfied planetary governors," Maia said.
Quinn took a moment to wish that Ice had been a little more bloodthirsty in this particular case. Lord Barr had seemed the sort to hold a grudge, and his growing power was a threat.
The next presented was another woman, this one in her thirties with untamed dark hair, and a duster that would make her look at home in any spaceport bar. Quinn was fairly certain he recognized her too.
"Rena Vartan. Bastard daughter of Baron Tandol. A former Marshal, and a former crime lord. Now the ruler of a dozen worlds and commander of a formidable fleet," Maia said.
That was where Quinn knew her, back when he’d served as a Marshal. They'd dated once—that was before Kat. It hadn't gone very well, as he recalled. He was fairly sure he'd gotten drunk and thrown up on her, which had kind of killed the romantic possibilities in a hurry. It sounded like she might be an acquaintance worth getting to know again.
Another image. This man was in his twenties, brilliant red hair and a cocksure grin, and dressed in a suit of reds and yellows that mimicked fire.
"Lord Kam Roush, aka the Lord of Flames. Grand champion of the arena and beloved by the people. Charismatic and popular, he's parlayed that into a small but formidable power base and, given the opportunity, could take it a lot further," Maia said.
It was interesting how this was such an eclectic set. A crime lord, an arena champion, a strongman. If it weren't for the complete destruction of the proper line of succession, none of these people would have had a chance of being where they were now.
Another woman, this one somewhere in her twenties. Brilliant green hair fell in a tumble around a face ever so slightly off, the eyes too far apart and a brilliant yellow.
"Lexi Ch'kai, traitor to the Imperium and the betrayer of Seldona. Half human and half Ch'kai, she possesses powerful psionic abilities. Several formerly conquered worlds have risen up in rebellion to support her claim," Maia said, for the first time distaste clear in her tone.
Aliens had never been particularly popular in the Imperium, but then, it was a dislike that was largely mutual. Within a decade of the discovery of a new species there was often a war. The Imperium usually won—they'd gotten rather good at winning.
"Now we know the players. So how can we help?" Tamara asked.
"And how much are you paying us to lend our aid?" Quinn asked.
Maia said, "The most important thing you can do is to help Empress Joline gain possession of the Imperial Regalia. Combined they are a powerful symbol of authority, and all that is actually required for a succession ceremony."
Whether or not anyone would respect that ceremony was another matter. Nobles probably would, because nobles were weird. Quinn had never understood why, but he was starting to get an idea. Beyond the Divide almost everything was more chaotic than needed, since the Unshackled were driven to it. Quinn was starting to think the Imperium was just as much a victim to their own mages, and the nobles’ obsession with Order was like a disease they suffered.
"Stealing is what we're good at. Who has them?" Quinn asked.
"Vixana has the royal medallion and wears it always. It houses the Stilaxis Gem, the most flawless Aur crystal ever discovered. The royal sword is held by Marquis Kadello. The Emperor asked his enforcer to keep it safe always," Maia told them.
Neither was good news. The most powerful contender for the throne would be well guarded, and plucking the medallion from around her neck a formidable challenge. So was stealing a sword from the most dangerous of the aspirants.
"And the crown?" Tamara asked.
"We're not certain. It went missing, and we believe went up for sale. We think Rena Vartan is the most likely to have it, or if not, will know who does."
"You're throwing us at the most powerful people in the Empire," Tamara said.
Joline said, "You wanted to help me steal a throne. This is it. Nobody is going for the full set of regalia because they don't think it is possible. I've seen what you can do."
It was flattering, up to a point.
Tamara got a distant look for a moment. "We'll take the jobs, but you'll find our rates expensive."
They must be. Maia had checked a tablet and was already looking shocked. Joline took it from her and glanced over the contents.
"The per-item fees are acceptable, but the completion bonus ... I wouldn't even know where to begin finding these things," Jolene said, puzzled.
"Everything listed is in the royal vault. I assure you, I know. Once you are Empress, you can open the seals," Tamara said.
This was something they hadn't discussed. The contents of the royal vault. Was the knowledge Tamara’s? Tourmaline’s? Did it matter?
"Fine," Joline said, quickly placing her signature on the tablet. "Get me what I need and you can raid what the old man left behind."
7
"Tinixil figurines!" Dela exclaimed with excitement, tugging on Quinn's arm.
They'd landed two hours before on the market world of Hogarth Three. Places like it were rare in the Imperium, where everything was so tightly regulated, but a part of the great machine running smoothly was about having a few places where some of the steam could be let out.
The surface of the planet was almost all legitimate businesses, trading legal goods across the Imperium, and a popular tourist destination too. But the deeper you went into the underground markets, the more illicit the goods became.
It was said that Rena Vartan held court on the lowest levels. Starting with the least likely holder of a piece of regalia might have seemed an odd approach, but with her resources she'd be a valuable ally. Quinn also doubted she really wanted to be Empress, and if this was just about a payday there were deals to be struck. If they could find her, and if Dela didn't wrench his arm off first as they made their way through the markets.
Quinn looked over the figurines that had Dela so excited. They seemed like nothing so much as squat, green, angry-looking toads to him.
"You've a fine eye, miss. From Tylixo Prime," said the vendor, a bespectacled older man.
"I don't think so," Dela said, picking one up and turning it around, "Wrong era. This is later, one of the colony worlds. Kerchuk?"
"Miss has an unfortunately fine eye," the vendor said dryly. "The Forsaka dig site."
"They'd be worth a lot more, if they were from Tylixo," Dela said a
s an aside to Quinn, still studying the figurine. "I always wanted to work one of these digs."
"Why?" Quinn asked, trying to see something worthwhile in the object.
"The Tinixil were aquatic and most of their former worlds are what we'd consider tropical paradises," Dela said, flashing Quinn a grin before turning back to the vendor. "How much?"
A brief bit of haggling later and she was tucking a figurine into a pocket.
Dela and Quinn, as the two with any best-established criminal bona-fides, were leading the search for Rena. The others were all indulging in some intense shopping. It had been a long time since they'd hit anywhere with the resources of a Core market world. They even had money in their accounts to spend.
They were already two levels deep beneath the surface. Legitimate markets had faded into dens of banned drugs and paraphernalia. The level below supposedly offered goods for the more discerning illegal customers, like plundered artifacts.
They were looking for the route down. Each layer was hidden, and was supposed to be only for people in the know, so the routes changed regularly.
Still, that was the thing about crime. Once you knew it, you learned to spot the patterns, which was after all a part of the whole test of this place. If you were really in the know, you'd find a way to where you wanted to be.
Dela elbowed Quinn and glanced down the corridor. A dozen men, well dressed, were making their way into an alley behind a restaurant proudly proclaiming the most delectable delicacies from nearly extinct species.
Quinn nodded to Dela and pulled her close to plant a lingering kiss while he kept half an eye on the alley. Those men had been too well-dressed and too well-armed for this level.
However accepted crime might be here, it wasn't wise to watch any criminal too intently. They were a jumpy breed.
The men weren't coming out of the alley, and there weren't any sounds of violence. They might just be doing a deal of some kind, but why in such a place? On a lower level, whatever they were trading could be done in the open.
Dela was more than happy to go into the kiss, her hands taking a moment to slide along Quinn's chest in a manner that had him rather breathless by the time they finally broke it off.
"I think I like playing spy," Dela said, slipping her arm once more through Quinn's.
"Maybe you should have said yes to Mara instead of Kalia, then," Quinn said.
"I'm done living a life where I'm content with the second best. I'm surprised you thought Jinx's offer made sense. Have you ever seen a noble do anything cool? Well, other than her, I mean," Dela asked.
The alley was dark, dim, and generally full of trash. What it wasn't filled with was suited and well-armed men, or their bodies.
"Most of them are rich. I'm a man easily impressed," Quinn said, as he looked over the alley. A holographic wall? Possibly, either that or a switch of some kind.
"This place is filthy. They won't want anyone fancy rooting through the trash," Dela said, running her eyes along the walls. "That one. With the vomit stains."
Quinn grimaced, moving nearer. Getting closer didn't help. It looked even more disgusting. "Is there any particular reason you think large amounts of vomit don't go with a restaurant serving animals that should have never been cooked?"
"Look at it. Really look at it. You see disgusting splashed goop. I see chicken noodle soup. Someone got lazy. Besides, a passage makes sense here based on the layout of the shops," Dela said, dragging them forward.
The world briefly turned into a spray of multicolored dots as they passed into it, and then they were in a well-lit passage sloping downward.
"You're pretty good at this," Quinn said.
"It's why I'm such a good appraiser. You always have to look for the little things that don't make sense. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong design."
"I never realized it before, but you'd make fine thief. Not the ‘shoot people and steal their stuff’ sort that we are so enamored of. The fancy sort," Quinn said.
"Part of me was hoping for that when I signed up with you. Those dreams seem far away now," Dela said.
The passage ended with a set of alleys and laneways.
These streets were less crowded than the ones above, but still a fair number of people roamed around. Almost everyone was armed.
Stalls displayed weapons and armor. Others offered hacked manuals for various alarm systems.
"Hazard cloth," Dela said delightedly, pulling Quinn towards a booth. "Come on. You're buying Jinx a present."
What Dela was so excited about now didn't look like much, rolls of white fabric like what you'd find in any craft store. The prices were exorbitant though, far more than anyone would pay for the highest quality silk.
"Why would this be a good gift?" Quinn asked.
"Because Mara told me about your training session and wanted to see if I had any ideas. How do you think her outfit is going to hold up, if people start hacking away at her?"
Quinn had to admit he hadn't given it any thought. "Not well, unless she enchants it."
"And even if she does, it’s a good idea it be as durable as possible. Hazard cloth is made for extreme environments," Dela said, touching the cloth. "Specialized tools are even needed to cut it. I can do something great with this.”
The tools were on display as well, and an astronomical price got even more astronomical.
It would pretty much exhaust Quinn's share of the most recent take, which was saying something since Joline hadn't been charged cheaply when it came to the scepter. Still, it was the right thing to do.
A short period of negotiation later and he'd arranged delivery of a roll of fabric and the requisite tools to the Centauri Bliss.
They had barely done more than walk away from the booth when Quinn saw four figures approaching them. Two men, two women, all with a cocky swagger that hit him wrong.
They were dressed garishly, like young street punks, but they were keeping their distance too well and their eyes told a different story.
Quinn put a hand on the grip of his pistol but didn't draw.
It was one of the women that spoke, her face marked with a tattoo of a red scorpion.
"The boss would like to see you."
This place had a lot of bosses. But according to the rumors there was only one over them all. Besides, these four were killers. Quinn had to hope that was a good sign, and that he'd found exactly who he'd been hoping for.
"Good. Lead on," Quinn said.
The four made no attempt to disarm them, slipping into formation around them. It was no concealed passage they led Quinn and Dela too, but a wall that parted at their approach to reveal an elevator.
They were headed down, level after level flickering by as they descended into the depths.
8
Quinn and Dela found themselves being led into a club. Dance music blared out at a deafening volume. On small stages women and men of countless species writhed to the sounds while wearing either very little or nothing at all.
The guests were dressed in a bewildering array of colors and styles. The uber-wealthy and the uber-corrupt. Those most eager to defy convention in an empire where convention was everything.
Rena Vartan was seated on a chaise, lounging back. Surrounding her were predators much like those escorting them, the same dangerous eyes and deadly posture.
"Quinn Jade. I wondered if it would be you, when that wreck of yours set down on my planet. Sit," Rena said. It almost an invitation, but Quinn knew better.
Quinn and Rena took a seat across from Rena. Glasses were put before them, wispy fog rising from the drinks.
"Rena, long time. You've done well for yourself," Quinn said.
"You two know each other?" Dela asked.
"Dated once. He spewed all over me and not in the fun way. Tremendous disappointment," Rena said. "I hope he's more entertaining these days."
"Hasn't thrown up on me once and literally can go all night long," Dela said.
"Heard you had yourself a Vex," Rena sa
id, leaning back with an arm spread over the back of her chaise. "You're pretending to be one of Joline's lapdogs, but you travel with the Queen of Thieves. Why are you here?"
"We want the crown," Quinn said, watching Rena to see how she reacted.
"Join the line. Everybody wants that cursed seat," Rena said with a snort.
"No, the uh, literal crown. The headgear, not the seat of galactic power," Quinn said.
"And you think I have it?" Rena asked with a shiver of revulsion. "I'm corrupt, hedonistic, and a thoroughly terrible woman. I'm not stupid. Those asses fighting for that seat would kill for that thing, and they're about the only threats to me left."
It had been a long time since Quinn had known Rena. Back then she'd been corrupt, but almost all of the Marshals had been corrupt. He remembered her as being serious, focused. The woman in front of him didn't seem like that at all. Was she being for real, or was this persona as much an act as the ones her guardians put on?
"Really? Because Joline is convinced you've got your eye on being Empress," Dela said.
Rena gave her a sharp look before leaning forward, picking up her glass and taking a deep swig. Fog drifted from her mouth in the aftermath.
Quinn sampled his drink. Liquid on the lips, but it seemed to vaporize on contact with the tongue, chill and euphoric all at once.
Rena said, "Do you know what it’s like out there? The military is too busy watching each other to watch me. Half the police have sold themselves as mercenaries to the highest bidder. I can't help but to expand. Nothing is in my way."
"You're scared," Quinn said. It suddenly made sense. The odd way she was behaving, the overwhelming numbers of concealed bodyguards around her. Rena was terrified.
Rena snapped her fingers and the guards pulled back—not that they went too far. It at least offered them the illusion of privacy.
"I'm not scared, but I am cautious. There were three crime lords bigger than me when this mess started and they all threw their lots in with the wrong people," Rena said, looking between Quinn and Dela.