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Kara cocked her head, listening to the clang of hatches and rapid footsteps echoing through the crew quarters. In front of her was an open panel to the guts of the security system, the wiring behind exposed as she worked on a few patches, her flexi directly linked into the code. She’d been checking that the FPC hadn’t tampered with the ship or left any hidden traps. She tapped a finger against her flexi before opening a comms line to the bridge. Those footsteps had sounded like Isra, and she didn’t appear to be returning to the bridge.
“Daku here,” he said as the comms connected.
“Did you decide on a destination?” Kara swiftly bypassed several redundant codes and uploaded a few of her own. If anyone tried to take this ship from them, they’d be in for some nasty surprises. She paused at his prolonged silence. “Daku?” She sat back on her heels.
“She left the bridge before confirming our destination.” His words were heavy.
Kara scrubbed a hand over her face. As much as she’d like to just remain down here and take the quiet time to mentally recharge, she knew she couldn’t. “Do you know why?”
“I may have...uh...exchanged a few words with her.” She could hear him tapping his foot, the sound rapid and agitated. “She wasn’t angry,” he quickly rushed to reassure. “But she wanted to find out what was happening before she decides.” He pushed out a hard breath. “I think she’s trying to contact someone on Catera. I’m sorry, Kara, I didn’t mean to provoke her.”
She braced her head against the cold bulkhead, wondering when this would all end. Wondering if it would ever end. Stifling a sigh, she rocked back onto her heels again and sealed the panel back in place. “I think she was going to do that, no matter what either of us said or did. She didn’t want to be out here, hiding, in the first place.” She pushed to her feet, wiping her hands clean on a relatively oil free cloth. “Keep us on course for Youl. I’ll go speak to her and hopefully prevent any comm breaches.” After being able to avoid all detection so far, she didn’t want Isra revealing their location, and a conversation with the wrong person on the wrong channel would be like setting off a flashing beacon. Disastrous.
It didn’t take long to reach Isra’s quarters. Her steps were silent, and she slowed as she approached, as voices already filtered from the room. Instinctively, her camouflage ability rippled along her skin and across the parts of her nanosuit that were visible beneath her freighter coveralls, where she’d pushed up the sleeves and unsealed it at the neck. She slunk closer and paused next to the door. She was prepared to use her visual augments to check the room, but there was a gap in the doorway where the hydraulics hadn’t sealed the door properly. Something else to add to the repair list, but for now it worked in her favour. The voices rose in volume and when she identified the Queen’s voice cutting over Isra, she infinitesimally relaxed but she still didn’t reveal herself; she wanted to hear what they said to each other when they thought they had privacy, and no one listening in.
Maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, spying on her own leader. On the woman that had rescued her, trained her, gave her a purpose. But she was tired of half-truths and missing information.
It was time that changed.
She angled her body and carefully peered through the gap.
Isra sat at the small battered desk, her face tight as she stared at a head and shoulder holo-projection of her mother coming from the flexi on the desk. Queen Samorn appeared tired, her skin grooved and darker circles under her eyes. Piercing eyes stared back at her, and Kara almost jerked back, until she realised the Queen was focused on Isra.
“They know Isra, they know,” Queen Samorn said, her hand coming up to her throat. Her fingers fluttered before she snatched it away, out of range of the holo-image.
“Who knows?” Isra plucked at the edges of her gloves.
Kara frowned. Were they discussing the bio-cybers and Kara’s link to the Jade Fleet through Daku? But that didn’t make sense, because they already knew about that. Most of the Empire knew it by now. There had to be something else, something potentially worse. She almost didn’t want to know what other secret there might be, not if it had the queen so agitated and anxious.
“Those cursed Draldens.” Samorn’s face contorted as she almost spat the name. “And these traitors. How could they betray me, their Queen, like this? To my enemies?” Her breathes became short, rapid, and harsh.
“It’s not like they’d know the Draldens are your worst enemy. How would they even guess that?” Isra shook her head. “And how can you even be certain that anyone knows?”
“Have you not seen all the newscasts? Heard all the talk?”
Isra stiffened. “How could I, Mother, when you have essentially banished me to the wilds and told me to stay hidden and avoid revealing my presence? Tapping into a commercial news beacon, with their inferior security and privacy measures, could lead the traitors to me. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Her tone was dulcet, but her hands clenched tight.
“You do not have to be facetious. The ramifications of exposure would be catastrophic.” Samorn shook her head. “No. I cannot countenance it. We must fight them. We must ensure no Dralden gains influence in my Empire.”
“For Eternities sakes, isn’t it time you let it go?” Isra sighed. “You don’t have to forgive them, but can’t you at least stop trying to fight them?”
“Do you think I can forget what they did to us?” Samorn stood and the holo-image flickered as it adjusted to refocus on her face. “This is my empire and they will not take it from me. The Council has tried to confine me to the Onyx Palace, supposedly for my safety, but I know who is behind this, and I will not bow down to them.”
Kara blinked, taken aback by Queen Samorn’s vehemence. A trickle of unease slithered down her spine. Samorn might be the queen, but she was answerable to the Council. If the councillors, backed by the popular support of Rhaslok citizens, thought she was overstepping the political and governance boundaries set between the council and the monarchy, then she might lose even more support, and then she wouldn’t just be facing an unknown threat from a handful of dissidents and traitors. No, she could face a coup. Or even a full-blown civil war.
But why were they both reacting with such volatility?
Hadn’t they created the Elites to avoid situations such as this occurring? As the Shadow, she should be trying to sway the Council to Samorn’s way of thinking. Instead, she’d been sent out here with Isra, seemingly to head in circles. And they still hadn’t explained why it was so important that the heir couldn’t be visible, couldn’t be supporting her mother and working to refute these claims. No intel they’d received so far had indicated that there was a direct threat to Isra’s person. Only that there was a possible threat to the monarchy, and—judging by the news—that appeared to be an attack on their reputation and their right to rule the Empire, not a physical threat to their life.
So why was Samorn antagonising the Council?
She kept her body still, but her senses focused on Isra and Samorn. Waiting.
“Your Empire?” Isra slowly came to her feet and braced her hands on the desk. “You think this is your Empire? What about the countless people who have paved the way for you, carried out your laws, abided by them, lived by them? Power is not taken but received, for if it isn’t, then the powerful will inevitably fall. You will fall. True power comes from those around you. When it’s freely given, it will uplift you, but when it passes, when it’s abused or taken for granted, then those same people can take it away.” Isra glared at her mother. “You do not create power; you earn it from all those around you. It belongs to every last citizen in the Empire, yes, even including the traitors! They’ve just taken that power back from you.”
“And just what are you suggesting, daughter?” Queen Samorn tipped her chin up, her eyes narrowed.
“You repeatedly sent me to stay in the Temples on Dalor. I had a very long time to reflect, to contemplate the Eternal spiral of the Eternities, and to weigh my own soul.” Isra straightened to her full height, bracing her hands on her hips. “It is time the monarchy ended.”
Kara almost jumped in shock. Only her conditioning prevented her from reacting to Isra’s announcement, but her heart hammered in her chest.
Isra continued, her tone determined and sure. “You created this nation to protect yourself and to protect me. You shaped the future of an entire country around that, but you didn’t stop there. No, that would have been too easy, too simple. You expanded it until you wove five different species your web, your need for safety. But that very need, that craving, got you noticed again by those you fled.” Isra paced away from the screen, and Kara flattened herself against the corridor wall, out of sight, until Isra turned back to the flexi. “Yes, we are different.”
“Isra—”
“No, let me finish! I’ve stayed silent too many times, but no more. I will have my say.”
Kara almost wanted to yell at the queen to stay silent, too.
Isra took a deep breath, before continuing, “We’re genetic anomalies. Our inherent abilities—whether you consider them gifts or curses matters not—but you used them so easily to manipulate and bend those around you. You convinced them you were one of them; you took the very likeness of a dying princess and became her. You wanted me protected, and you did that. You created an entire empire and you’ve kept control over it for centuries. But that’s the thing, over time, everyone needs to change. I need to change.” Isra thumped her hand against her chest. “I can’t keep being the eternal princess, kept safe behind glistening temple walls. The same goes for our citizens. Like me, they have grown. Like me, they want to make their own mistakes, and decide who they want to give power to. You can’t keep deciding our fates.” Isra took a deep breath and stared beseechingly, angrily at her mother.
Samorn remained silent, her hands clasped. But one finger twitched.
Kara braced herself against the bulkhead, as she struggled to maintain even, quiet breaths. Centuries. Isra had said centuries. And what was the genetic anomaly? Kara had so many questions that they spun in a daze through her thoughts, new ones appearing before the last had fully formed.
Isra faintly sighed. “It is time you let the Empire go. I love you, Mother, I always will. But I can no longer be your foil. I don’t want to be trapped pretending to be something I am not any longer.”
Samorn drew herself up even more, her eyes flashing in anger. “That is not for you to decide, Isra. We are the Royal family of Rhaslok,” but her voice shook, and she clenched her fingers tighter, stilling the one that moved. “I am still the Queen, and no amount of political manoeuvring or smear campaigns will change that. This will pass. We will weather it, like we have before.”
“But it’s not the same this time. And you know it.” Isra jabbed her finger at her mother. “The Draldens have never been involved before, and I do not want to keep up this farce, either. Can’t you end it, for my sake?”
Samorn appeared to be at a loss for words, her mouth working, but nothing coming out. Finally, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry you feel this way. But you must know I’ve done it for you, as much as myself. We will survive this, and I promise you’ll have more freedom.” She smiled, but it was strained, as if she knew the cracks could be seen. Cracks that couldn’t be repaired.
Isra looked away, faintly shaking her head, but remained silent. The fight drained from her. “Please, at least be careful.” Her shoulders slumped and she ended the call.
Kara stared at Isra after the queen cut the connection, the conversation churning through her mind. She had remained silent due only to her training, as the urge to move, to demand answers, had been almost overwhelming. But now she needed those answers. She reached out and opened the door.
Isra tapped the fingers of one hand rapidly against her thigh, her eyes lost in thought, seemingly still unaware of Kara’s presence and intense scrutiny.
Except the chair rotated and Isra stared at the open hatch, fingers still drumming. Waiting.
Kara shifted, the camouflage rippling across the nanosuit and her skin as it reverted to normal.
“What do you mean by ‘genetic anomalies’?” Kara finally asked, unable to stay silent anymore. Unable to remain hidden, or in the dark. “And why were you talking as if your mother had created the Empire?”
Isra stopped moving, her body utterly still. Even her breathing halted. Her eyes flashed to Kara, intense and shadowed.
“Because she did.”