In her early schooling days, when physical instruction classes were necessary, Solae remembered thinking to herself how none of it was applicable to her day to day life. The rebellion on New Concordia had forced her to re-evaluate this belief and regret not taking the classes more seriously. She had run for her life a handful of times now and was wishing all the tips that had been given for the meter dashes that athletes trained so seriously for. Bitterly the marquise wondered if she'd ever be able to watch track and field events quite the same way again.

The sugar cane stalks battered her as she bolted through them and towards the manor but she did not let them hinder her pace. Once she was free of them, slightly bruised and scratched on her exposed arms, she lowered her limbs. They had been raised as a protective shield for her face. Any guards that were not drawn away by Rene were either inside the residence or on one of the far corners of the plantation. Solae had halted briefly in her stride a couple times just to be certain she was not straying into the line of fire but there was no threat. Had she not heard the yelling and movement of angry men rushing to Rene's position she might have thought that the home was deserted.

As she drew closer she realized that whomever constructed the manor must have fancied themselves a historian of pre-Stellar Empire establishment. A front porch had decorative columns that neither matched modern taste nor served any structural purpose but were reminiscent of architecture in centuries long past. Six different sitting chairs, all from different eras, were arranged carefully on either side of the front door but looked unused. The plaque beside the front door was even in a dead language that the linguist diplomat recognized but had not studied. Even the building construction was an odd choice- rather than rely on the materials readily available on New Concordia, it appeared to be covered in vintage exterior stone that would have to been imported from two sectors over at closest [i]before[/i] being blasted with an array of chemicals to keep it unnaturally white.

Solae raised her firearm reluctantly as she tried the handle of the front door. Prepared for it to be locked she fell through as the door swung open easily on its hinges. In retrospect it made sense. No one was stupid or brave enough to invade the home of criminals, slavers, and deviants, much less when it was not yet twilight. They did not have a reason to closely guard the plantation. Before today they may have never been under direct attack or, if they were, they would have known the aggressor and that an altercation was imminent. The element of surprise and their brash courage had unexpected payoffs.

"AI, declare yourself," Solae called out as she raised her firearm and looked around nervously. A grand staircase was ahead of her, a sitting room to the right, and a study to the left, all of which looked abandoned. She heard noises from ahead that sounded as if someone was cooking. Pots and pans clanged together in a familiar cacophony.

"Greetings, guest. I am Argon. How may I assist you?" a deep masculine voice rumbled through unseen speakers.

"Authority of Marquise Solae Falia, Senior Translator at Stellar Imperial Embassy 524, Armistice, New Concordia. Code 4283-EMHAJ-calmtable3032. Acknowledge authorization," she called out. The sounds in the kitchen beyond had ceased. Solae edged towards the empty study, keeping her weapon steady, and then quickly darted in to seal herself inside.

"Authorization acknowledged, Solae Falia," a much more flat response came. This time she spotted speakers in the upper four corners of the room. Channeling her 'inner soldier' she ducked behind the massive wooden desk for the added safety it provided as well as the concealment.

"You are to from this point forward only respond to my commands and that of Rene Quentain. Alert me of any attempts to override my authority. I also want you to begin downloading the backup of the AI known as 'Mia' from the late Lord Armon's estate. Can you access that file?"

"Acknowledged," the synthetic voice of Argon complied smoothly. "I have begun my search for the appropriate remote backup of the AI referenced. How else may I be of service?"

"Immediately commence your lock down procedures for the manor. Rene Quentain, the other user I authorized, should be in one of the buildings by himself with a group of armed individuals approaching it. Locate him and display the schematics for the building to me," she instructed.

There was banging on the study door that was exceeding short-lived. Hissing locks sounded from every window and door in the entire manor as metal reinforcements descended from hidden gaps in the ceiling and floor. Whomever had been cooking or cleaning found themselves face to face with thick slabs of alloy that were meant to withstand much worse attacks than that of tiny plasma rifles. Solae had selected the study to hide in because of its convenience but it was more well fortified than other rooms as the owner of the plantation was particularly invested in keeping the secrets she was sitting so close for his eyes only. Were there time to look for it she would have gone digging around for any safe that might be placed behind a painting. Rene's safety was a more immediate concern than valuables and riches from criminal activity.

A hologram display lit up on the desk and Solae reluctantly climbed out from beneath it. "What self defense measures are available in the vicinity?" she demanded with increasing alarm at seeing so many descending upon where Rene was positioned. Concrete walls or not he needed help and as quickly as possible.

"The plantation is equipped with several drones that have..," Argon began patiently.

"How many are functional at this moment and have operational weaponry?" Solae demanded.

"Ten, Solae Falia."

"Excellent. Release the drones with directives to eliminate any living target that is [i]not[/i] Quentain." The marquise's lips curled up into a smile. This might actually work after all. If just once she could save Rene she would feel exponentially less guilty for the times he had already saved her own.