It had been somewhat of a calm evening for Boros. As Head of Vacare Affaires on Aurax, one would assume that Boros was a prestigious fellow. But the truth was that every evening was calm for him. He moved his papers are a leisure pace and sometimes preferred to take a quiet day contemplating on new policies than actually doing any work. Of course none of the new policies would see the light of day. But to Boros, they were just as important. Vacare powers, in his opinion, had gone too long unchecked. He was one of the few on Aurax who was greatly delighted by the idea of the Order. People who could subdue a Vacare’s connection to the void. Alas, his request to station some of them on Aurax was denied. Probably because House Teklis and Aivira fought it fiercely.

It was no secret that Boros feared the Vacare. He was loathe to write the right permits and kept Aivira on a tight leash. All so as he sat in his home he could comfortably sip of his wine while looking over the barren, white surface of the moon and the black expanse beyond. Without any defense measures around him. What fool would dare attack the Imperial Bureaucracy’s administrators? Any Vacare caught in the attempt would be killed. It was no secret.

But then, a strange feeling crept up on him. He was alone in the apartment. Yet for a moment he thought he saw a shadow creep around in the corner of his eyes. He turned around yet he saw nothing unusual. Nothing that was moving. He returned to his own thoughts. Maybe in a few years he could get off this wretched moon and somewhere closer to the Order. Yes, he would like that very much. Then he heard  a clang from behind him. Surprised he looked behind him. A plate had fallen off the counter. Now how did that happen? Alas, Boros preferred to keep things clean. So he got up and walked towards it. He reached for it, but in between blinks the plate just vanished. As if it was never there and the fat man was reaching towards nothing. Instead, the piece of nano-reinforced porcelain stood on the table top. Where it had always been. Rather confused he went to touch it. Yes, this existed. He could feel it. Maybe he shouldn’t have opened that second bottle. Boros was a man of many pleasures. He loved life and all that it offered him. So obviously he would often indulge. Putting the strange event on a wine glass too many, Boros returned to his chair. Though in the artificial light flooding inside through the window, he thought for a  second that he saw someone sit in his chair. Yet when the lights flickered for but a moment, he realized it was just his imagination.

The man continued contemplating his state and career for another hour, looking outside towards Aivira. Though eventually he decided that it was time to sleep. Rather fatigued he walked to the kitchen to kill the light. Though as he approached it, he saw a distant shadow that should not be. The shadow of a person. “Hello?” he said, trying to get the attention of the intruder. As he walked into the large kitchen, he saw that there was no other person in sight. With his eyes on the strange shadow, he killed the light. Darkness filled the kitchen. Immediately he turned the lights back on. The shadow was there again. He turned the lights off and on again. The shadow was there. Unmoving. What could cast such a peculiar shadow? Curiosity was replacing fear ever so slight as he switched the lights off and on again. And again. Boros decided it was not worth losing sleep over. One more time he  turned the lights in the kitchen on. The shadow was gone.

“Good evening, Administrator.” Boros heard from behind him. Surprised and afraid he turned around. A woman was sitting his chair now. The recent events suddenly all made sense. “Damn Vacare! I will have punished for this!” He threatened. Assuming some youngling Vacare was using her powers to play a joke on him. But as the chair turned around, he saw none other than Isabel Imken. “My lady! What do you think-“

“Silence.” She said. Boros wanted to continue and overrule her. Yet his lips refused to move. “As I understand it you are  a man that loves our great Emperor very much.” Boros did not understand why she stated that. Sure, he liked the Emperor. Who didn’t? “So when you heard he died, you were distraught, of course.” The Emperor, dead? Why was this witch speaking to him like he already knew. “This and your wife running away with your only daughter has sent you over a cliff.” Laura ran away? With Assa? What was happening? “You couldn’t take it anymore. When you got her letter. Asking for a divorce.” Boros’ body moved towards his computer and opened a newly delivered letter. “This wore hard on you. So you decided to end it.” Boros’ mind, using panic to push through the Vacare’s influence, could snap his head towards a maliciously grinning Isabel. He wanted to yell! Scream! Curse her! But he could barely open his lips before the Witch took over his body again. “Farwell.” Isabel said, before she too vanished in a literal blink. Boros’ body still didn’t listen as he took a seat before his computer. He wrote a note saying how full of pain he was. How his life had became a pile of sadness and disappointment. How his career was doomed, his wife had left him and how his love for the Emperor broke him in two. Lies they were! Lies all of them! Laura didn’t love him, sure. That was established on the wedding night. It was a political move. So why would she even run!? No, he would not break because of the death of the Emperor. Why was he typing these lies!? He ended the note with a terrible statement. Life was no longer worth living. Suddenly he realized what was happening. Like a caged animal panicking his mind tried to fight the influence as he grabbed towards the drawer. No, he could not end his life like this. Nobody would believe it! Yet slowly his hand reached for the heavy, metal weapon inside. Slower than one would, he grabbed it and lifted it out. His mind could only slow the inevitable. “May the void embrace you, Boros.” He heard her voice for a final, wretched time before he put the gun to his temple.
[hr]
“The bureaucrats are disposed of on Aurax.” Lord Kest of House Teklis declared in the conference room. Before him sat Isabel, grinning her malicious grin. His brother Allegan, Grand-Master of the Vacare. Commander Illistra Hazen, a low born Vacare that travelled to Aurax when she was young. A talented fighter. “All in favor to seal Aurax until the succession crisis is resolved, raise your hand now.” All hands were raised towards the glass ceiling. Beyond it was the vast black expanse. They themselves were adrift in its endlessness.

The grass around was still kept as a stark reminder that they were all once planet bound. Meant as a reminder where all of them came from. “Very well. Now for the next subject. Our Seers heard whispers of a successor. Prince Grerenth is sighted on Slichi 7K7V. The table in the middle projected a hologram before all members of the emergency council. Detailing the location. “Bureaucrats are moving in. As will no doubt others. I am of the opinion that Aurax must have a hand with the succession. A favorable Emperor could be a powerful tool. Who agrees with me?” Again, all hands were raised. “Good. Commander, send a detachment. Use a cloaked frigate. I allow you to take several of my Household Knights. As well as any Aivira members.” Isabel stood up to protest. But one, gaze from Kest’s old, weary eyes made the young woman sit down again. Commander Hazen gave Kest a short but formal nod and left the room. Then Kest turned to Isabel again. “The bureaucracy is dead in Aurax?”

“Yes.” She stated, trying to not sound unnerved the weary man before her.

“Good. He held us back too long. I am sanctioning every experiment you have, at your own discretion.” Isabel looked stunned at the man. All of them!? Was it her birthday!? “I’m also activating every Black Site you have. Aurax’s edge is Vacare and I intend to make it sharp. Even if I must blacken it.” Isabel spared no time. She got up and made a deep, formal bow before vanishing behind the door. Soon her shuttle would get her back Aivira. A great time for Vacare was approaching.

“Such freedom, brother.” The blind Allegan, now little more but a heap of robes, said. His voice sounding like old, stiffened paper getting cracked. “If anything, her exuberance should be tempered down.” Kest did not respond to his own, twin brother. If Allegan had to say it, it was because he wanted to use his voice just a little. The two had a connection like no other. It was not directly telepathic. Yet he understood his own brother better than his wife and Allegan, he understood Kest better than Kest himself.