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PRINCESS ISRA PACED before the large viewport in her mother’s suite aboard the royal flagship, the pale mauve carpet muffling her steps. Of course, only a very select few of the crew even knew she was on board, otherwise, the security risk would have been too high. The heir was not supposed to travel with the ruler, in case the entire ship went up in a ball of flames, or they all got spaced. So, she had to remain sequestered away from the eyes of the crew. The forced confinement was not helping her already strained mood.
Hidden away. From prying eyes, from threats—from living. All because she must be kept safe for the future of the Empire.
She stopped and braced one gloved hand on the viewport. She spread her fingers, pressing her palm flat against the cold surface. Stared at the glove covering her hand. Even in private she wore them. Always, the need for discretion reigned supreme. Always, she was reminded of her place, of the need for stability. For continuity.
But was this needed by the Empire or her mother?
Yet she must pay the price, her life held in stasis. The promise of tomorrow never came.
The doors behind her opened with a faint swish. The pressure of expectant silence built, but Isra did not respond. She stared at her hand, ignoring her mother’s presence reflected in the viewport.
Finally, her mother moved forward, the pale blue fabric of her gathered silk skirt swirling around her legs, crystal beads faintly clinking together. She came to stand beside Isra and reached out, gently wrapping her own gloved hand over Isra’s and guiding it down with gentle pressure. Isra turned to face her mother, their hands linked between them.
“Dearest daughter, you know this is best for all of us,” Samorn said, her voice lilting soothingly. “You need to return to the Seven Temples of the Eternities on Dalor. Your presence there comforts our people.”
“I am no child to be sent to my room,” Isra sighed. “But that is how you are treating me, and you know it. Have I not proven myself, time and again?”
“Being the queen is a delicate art,” Samorn answered. “You know I must ensure the balance is maintained. Your presence at the Temples reassures our citizens that the Empire’s traditions are maintained and, more importantly, it appeases the Council and makes them feel they have power over the Royal Family.” Samorn faintly snorted in derision. “As long as they believe that, then we can maintain our power far more completely over them. Neither of us needs them questioning the Royal Family or investigating our actions. Especially yours, daughter. Or do you wish them to find out about the Elites and your escapades?”
Isra yanked her hand from her mother’s and stalked away from her. She circled a couch in the room, before gripping the headrest, her fingers digging into the upholstery. “Of course I don’t want them investigating us.” She sucked in a deep, calming breath. “I know the risks and the consequences as well as you. But I am tired of you treating me like a disobedient, wilful child. I am far older than you were when you originally took the throne of Rhaslok, and no one was sending you to a temple then. And don’t say I’m not doing what is best for the Empire. I have done what you have asked for years.” The years stretched innumerable behind her and unbearable in front. The couch cushion bunched in her tightened grip. “How long have I already spent within those temple walls? How many traditions have I observed, and created, for longer than I care to think of?” Isra stared Samorn down, daring her to disagree, to refute her.
Samorn turned her head away this time, gazing out of the viewport. She raised her fingers to her brow, lightly massaging them back and forth as she stared into the distance. “You have always been a dutiful daughter. I have never doubted your loyalty and commitment to Rhaslok,” she murmured.
“Then stop sending me away,” Isra demanded. “The minute there are any rumblings of discontent in the Council, I’m the one that has to toe the line and abandon everything else I am engaged in. We would be stronger standing together.”
“The Council holds much power and the ability to sway their home planets against us,” Samorn said. She moved to a lounge seat, settling the folds of her skirts neatly around her in an automatic, but graceful gesture as she sat. “I cannot allow that. You know how much stock many of our citizens, especially the Ghelpen, place in traditions and following protocols. Why else would I be on a royal tour? Councillor Methji mentioned, in their very blunt manner, that I was past due to visit the Ghelpen sector, and in particular Jeekoo.” She waved her hand dismissively. “This is but one price I must pay as their ruler.”
“As always, you are the Queen first and foremost. Are you not tired of it all?” Isra said, her fingers biting deeper into the couch.
“Isra, please think about this calmly. Do you want discontent to grow into disobedience and civil unrest?” Samorn raised one eyebrow in query, but she left Isra’s question unanswered.
Isra shook her head but remained standing. She knew this had been a futile conversation, yet she’d had to try all the same.
“I thought not. And as you said, you are quite definitely no longer a child. So, I expect you to not act like one either and do what is needed for the greater good.”
“And Daku Nightwyn? Are you telling me I should just let him suffer, despite what he has done for us?” Isra asked through gritted teeth. “We will be near New Mornag. It would be a simple matter to add it as a stop on this tour and interject on his behalf.”
Samorn drummed her fingers against the armrest, the soft sound loud in the silent room. Eventually, she replied, “That is a different matter. The Jade Fleet will resolve it.”
“Really? He’ll lose his command and faces being dishonourably discharged. The Shadow’s report was thorough, and clearly stated he disobeyed a direct order from Finn Laxarn. They will not look favourably on that, not at all, and you know it,” Isra accused.
She straightened up and went back to pacing, in part to irritate Samorn.
“And what would you have me do? Tell the Admiral to waive the charges against one lowly commander?” Samorn shook her head. “Do you think that won’t cause a stir? That it won’t lead down paths we don’t want to tread?”
“That’s always your excuse for not acting. Well, let them ask. We should support those that have been most loyal to us.” She thumped her hand to her chest, holding it there as she held her mother’s gaze. “Not punish them because you are afraid!” Isra sucked in a deep breath but stood her ground.
“I have the entire Empire to think of, not just one person. Remember that.” Samorn went tight-lipped, the skin around her mouth paler, her eyes narrowed.
“How can I forget? You love to remind me so often of that fact. But I refuse to accept that we must abandon Daku Nightwyn and let the Shadow down, all for the good of the Empire.” Isra raised her fingers, making derisive air quotes at the last words. “They have both sacrificed for us. The Shadow more so than any other, and I won’t let her down now. When has she ever asked for anything from us?” She paused, waiting for Samorn to refute her.
“She knew when she joined the Elites what would be required of her. She will learn to accept this too,” Samorn said, again her fingers beating out a sharp tattoo on the armrest.
Isra barked a short, bitter laugh. “You can’t keep expecting people to toe the line, to be loyal and obedient, unless you support them in return.” She suddenly narrowed her eyes at her mother. “But this isn’t really about them, is it? You aren’t really concerned with protecting your citizens or the Empire. This is about protecting yourself. It always has been.”
Isra stabbed a finger towards Samorn, her frustration spilling out. “I am sick of it. I am sick of being controlled by your fear.”
She spun away and went back to the viewport, bracing both of her hands on the sill.
Samorn was still behind her, her image blurry and indistinct in the viewport. Isra watched her mother’s reflection slump forward, bracing her head in her palms. Isra didn’t move. They remained locked in silence and stillness for a long time.
The soft brush of recycled air from the climate system cooled her heated cheeks and stirred the fronds of a plant next to her. She ran one finger over the broad, deep-green leaf. Even through her glove, she could feel the smoothness of the plant.
Finally, Samorn raised her head and spoke softly to Isra’s back.
“I only want what is best for you. All I have done is to protect you.” She faintly sighed, a soft sound of near defeat and old weariness. “Everything is changing, but nothing is different. There is unrest in the Empire, and Dralden’s on our borders. I am worried, Isra. I don’t want anything to happen to you. You are my baby; you always will be. I am sorry I try to hide you away from harm, from everything, so much.”
Isra turned around in remorse for having lashed out so strongly. “I know...but please, Mother, listen to me. Hear me.” She went to her mother’s side and sank onto the carpet at her feet, leaning into her legs in silent understanding. Samorn raised her hand and softly stroked it through Isra’s hair, the gesture gentle and caring. They stayed together, Isra pressed into her mother’s knees, quietly reconciling her thoughts. Samorn continued to stroke her hair, in an age-old ritual of support and love.
They both raised their heads at the same time as the door chimed Isra rose, smoothing down her clothes, and Samorn leant back in the chair, her brow pleated in concern.
***
Kara waited for the doors to the royal suite to open. The faint hum of the ship’s engines permeated the corridor, but luckily no one else was present. She couldn’t afford to have any of the crew see her in front of the queen’s stateroom.
Just as Isra had been lying low and avoiding notice, so had she. She’d almost exposed herself on Gaklun Two, she couldn’t afford another mistake. The past few weeks, she’d focused on her cover of being nothing more than an aide. One more nameless, faceless member of the support network that helped the queen on any state tour. But she had to turn this visit to her advantage. Surely, Isra wouldn’t be on board if she didn’t have a similar goal?
She slipped through the doors as soon as they opened. Tension hung thick in the air. Was she making a mistake?
But what other choice did she have? She had to save Daku. She’d made a promise.
“Shadow, what are you doing here?” Samorn snapped. “You’re supposed to be naught more than an aide.”
Kara bowed. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.” She flicked a glance at Isra. “I am concerned about Daku Nightwyn.”
“Hmph, I know well that you have formed a personal relationship. You aren’t impartial anymore.”
“Mother, let her speak,” Isra said.
She flicked Isra a grateful look but didn’t waste time. “I know you think of Daku as just a commander from a minor outpost, but he knows what I am. Can we, the Elites,” she flicked a hand between her and Isra, “risk leaving him in the Jade Fleet’s hands?” She pushed down the strange and sudden uncertainty swamping her. Daku needed her. “Please, let me help him. It’s too dangerous to abandon him.”
“And what would you have us do?” Samorn raised a brow. “What can we do that wouldn’t immediately draw all the attention that we are trying to avoid, straight to us? If I step in, all the Fleets will protest and the Council will use this as an opportunity to curb my authority. Is that what you want, Shadow?”
Kara bowed her head, the futility getting to her. What was the point of being a bio-cyber, with undetectable augments, if she couldn’t even help the one person who meant so much to her? “There must be a way we can help him. It doesn’t have to be overt.”
“Let’s say we did something, then what?” Queen Samorn stared her down.
“We could go to the secure base on Dalor,” Isra cut into the conversation. “I will go to the temples, and Kara and Nightwyn can stay in the base in secret. You wanted me there, didn’t you?”
“That base is a last resort and haven for us,” Samorn snapped. “I will not have him there. What guarantee do you have that this commander hasn’t already been compromised? You could lead the traitors straight to it.”
“Daku would never betray the Empire,” Kara said. He cared for those under his protection—under his command—too much to forsake them. “He loves his home and was prepared to die to stand up for it.”
“You say that, yet how easy is it for someone to change? How little would it take to turn him?” Samorn shook her head. “You haven’t seen him in a month. He very well could have joined our enemies in that time, if it meant his survival.”
“No.” Kara stood before her queen, her breaths choppy. “No, he wouldn’t.”
“No?” Samorn leant forward. “And what if they threatened his parents? His sister and nephew?”
Kara licked her lips, her certainty wavering. He loved his family. Could he betray the Empire, for them? She gathered her shaken thoughts. “We have no way of knowing if the traitors have contacted him or not unless we speak to him. Aren’t we at greater risk, right now? He may have been contacted, he might not have. And if he hasn’t, we need to make sure they never get their hands on him.” She stared Samorn down, sure of her words. “If we don’t intervene, what you fear will happen. Do you want anyone outside the Elites to know what he’s learnt?”
Samorn turned away from her, but Isra nodded her head. Some of the weight lifted from her shoulders. She was getting through to them. “We are better off having him where we want him.” What if the Fleet or the traitors made him disappear? She had to make them agree.
But before she could continue, the doors swished open and the Sword and Shield glided in, their amorphous plasma bodies confined behind matching dark blue skinsuits. Doctor Tarsk Delkie stalked in on their wake, his tail swishing.
“What’s going on?” Isra demanded.
The Sword and Shield emanated a serious, uneasy vibe. We apologise for the rude intrusion our Queen. Your Highness, the Sword sent telepathically to all present in the room.
But it is urgent, the Shield finished the message, worry lacing the thoughts.
Kara watched as Tarsk activated the display screen in the room, her gut sinking. His ears were low on his skull, his ginger fur slightly puffed out. He pulled out a flexi and tapped it against the screen, instantly sending a file to the display. “You need to watch this vid. Right now.”