Supreme Commander Servalan made her way through one of the central corridors of Space Command with quiet purpose. She rarely had to enter the non-executive areas of the space station; her natural habitat was the plush comfort of the command level. But occasionally, she walked the decks, made herself visible to junior officers, pilots and service personnel.
It was an important element of high command. You had to be seen, to be considered accessible, despite the thought of conversing with any of these people making her skin itch and crawl. But as she glided through the bland military corridors, she enjoyed the effect her presence had on the lower ranks.
Most would look away, cast their eyes down as she walked by. Others would seize the opportunity, consider this a moment to impress not only her but their peers. That look straight in the eye, a greeting of ‘Supreme Commander’ as she passed. Distasteful, perhaps, and she never acknowledged their presence, choosing to maintain an icy distance from the rank and file. But it could prove a useful gauge. From that split second of eye contact, she could mark the officers that were destined to advance through the ranks, and those that would never be more than a sub-lieutenant commanding a drudger barge.
And it was good to connect with the energy of the station, to see this vital Federation hub that she commanded at work. Officers bustling back and forth with calm efficiency, a technical crew heading for the lower flight decks, a trio of black-uniformed pursuit-ship crew running down the corridor, helmets cradled under their arms.
And this was hers, and hers alone.
As Servalan approached the end of the gently curving corridor, the self-satisfied ghost of a smile that she maintained throughout her walk fell as she saw a grey-tuniced figure walking towards her. Secretary Rontane walked with a precise step, his hands held limply behind his back, and Servalan had no choice but to keep walking.
Rontane made straight for her, greeting her with a nod and a sickly smile. ‘Supreme Commander.’
‘Secretary Rontane.’ Servalan returned the greeting with equal charm, and carried on walking. Infuriatingly, Rontane turned and fell into step with her.
‘I have been looking for you,’ the Secretary said evenly.
Servalan’s eyes were fixed on the doors to the executive lift that sat invitingly at the corridor’s end, a helmeted guard standing to each side. ‘And now you have found me.’
‘I was beginning to think you were avoiding me. I have left several urgent messages with your personal aide, and you always seem to be absent from your office whenever I stop by.’
‘The pressures of office constantly call me away. Surely a man in your own position can appreciate the call of duty.’
Rontane lowered his head. ‘Of course, Supreme Commander. I was hoping you might be able to update me on your progress in locating Space Commander Travis. Your report is conspicuous by its absence.’
Servalan was tired of the constant sparring with this tedious little man, but maintained her composure. ‘When there is something to report, you shall have it.’
They came to a halt at the doors to the lift, the guards saluting in tandem. Neither Servalan nor Rontane acknowledged them. Rontane’s smile had slipped, his face a stony, humourless mask. ‘I would hate to think, Supreme Commander, that you were employing delaying tactics. You wouldn’t want me to think you were diverting me in any way.’
‘The very thought, Secretary.’ The doors of the lift parted. Servalan stepped fluidly into the waiting car, Rontane gliding in beside her with his precise step.
The doors hissed shut. At least while they stood side by side, Servalan would be spared from having to look directly at Rontane. ‘As you know,’ she continued, the lift humming as it whisked them upwards, ‘Space Commander Travis is on a deep space mission to bring Blake to justice. His status has not changed since our last discussion.’
‘But I would prefer more positive confirmation of the expected outcome. Such as Blake’s head. And the Liberator safely docked in a Federation shipyard.’
‘And you shall have it, Secretary.’
‘Good.’ The doors slid smoothly open and Rontane stepped out. Not once had his hands left his back. ‘And Supreme Commander, please make yourself available to me at any time I request. I am not a man who is used to cajoling, and I would hate for my time here to be marred by any…unpleasantness.’
He didn’t wait for a reply and shimmered away down the corridor with his neat little steps, leaving Servalan glowering coldly after him.
‘I bet you wouldn’t,’ she hissed under her breath.