After they were airborne Solae leaned against Rene and closed her eyes. One might assume that a jolt from a stunner would cause a person to be more wired, more energetic, and difficult to calm, but the opposite was true- at least for the duchess. The overloading of her nerves and musculature had taxed her physically. Most of the truck was also coming off the adrenaline surges they had felt while confronting Thorne's forces and evading them. The peaceful quiet lulled her into resting on her lover's shoulder if only for the briefest of respites. Their destination was a warehouse not far from where the Bonaventure had been docked when they disembarked days ago. Neither the Syshin nor the criminal overlord interrupted the silence. All of them had been stung by a stunner before and felt the drowsy after-effects from it draining their strength.

Their arrival at the warehouse was punctuated by the vehicle rolling to as soft a stop as the driver could manage. The loss of the steady vibration woke the diplomat just as Ten was opening his mouth to broach the subject. It had been a silent ride but not uncomfortable. The Syshin were appreciative of the time to gather their thoughts and assess the situation more fully. Ten, who was never idle, had busied himself with planning for once his guests had left Zatis space. He would have to deal with Thorne, regardless of whether or not she suspected his intervention in freeing two slaves, but thanks to Solae's cache he would be far from defenseless. He knew that neither she nor Rene approved of his methods so he respectfully did not divulge them. By the end of the month he anticipated having all of Ralch's supporters under his thumb.

After they landed the truck was unloaded. Criestia, who didn't trust them to not be injured during the daring rescue, and Rosaria, who needed to also be ferried to the Bonaventure, were waiting for the intrepid heroes in one of the offices at the warehouse. Unlike some of the others they had visited while laying low, this one was regularly used by Ten in his day-to-day operations. Crates of illegal cargo, enigmatic machinery, and various types of transport were scattered about in the larger open area. The northeast corner had been sectioned off into the aforementioned offices. It was in one of these the doctor and teenage girl waited patiently in ergonomically designed business chairs sipping a tea that the physician hoped would calm their frayed nerves. Normally she was not quite so invested in her patients' personally to be worrying.

Solae was favoring her 'good' leg as they lumbered to the offices. First Rene, then the Syshin, and even Ten had offered their assistance, but she stubbornly refused. The stunner needle had not left her crippled. It was the bruise that left her sore to the touch and reluctant to shift her weight onto the limb. Given how injured Rene still was she clung to her pride and swore she did not need help; if he was perfectly mobile after nearly dying from being shot in the embassy, she could bear an ache for a night.

"Oh, thank the stars," Criesta exclaimed as they entered the makeshift meeting room. There was a long table, the surface of which was a polished crystalline material supported by wrought metal alloy, covered with various medical supplies she had brought in case of an emergency. Evidently she had prepared for the possibility of needing to operate upon the colonel should he push his limitations too far. "Come sit down and let me examine that leg," she ordered the duchess.

"It's really not necessary, it was just a stunner..." Solae protested with a glance towards Rene and Ten, neither of whom spoke up in her defense. Seeing that the argument was not worth the effort she sat down as Criesta cleaned the discolored flesh with disinfectant and perused her selection of sprays for the one that would be most appropriate for her condition. It was a very minor abrasion in the grand scheme of things, but she her only duty was not just to prevent loss of life, but to improve the quality and conditions of all who came to her with ailments, no matter how small.

"I would like to introduce myself," the linguist said in fluent Syshi as she turned her attention to the two freshly-liberated slaves. She reached up and hooked her fingers under the wig and pulled it off, then the wig cap underneath, freeing her golden hair to fall and tumble around her shoulders in aureate waves. "My name is Mar- no, I apologize, I'm not yet used to my new title. I am Duchess Solae Falia."

"Duchess?" asked 427. Both he and 138 had been surprised by the reveal. Obviously neither thought the blue wig was real, as Solae was not the first 'customer' of Thorne's to don a disguise, but they had taken notice of the unusual hue of her hair. Between them they had seen enough of humanity to know it was a unique shade that was no more natural or common than the blue.

"Yes, but I would like you to call me Solae if you agree," she asked them pleasantly in Syshi. Another lady would have balked at letting her entirely human entourage refer to her casually by her first name. Solae believed that there was no sense in breaking with all societal expectations and norms if she was not also going to breach etiquette. It would be incredibly uncomfortable for her to be sharing a ship with two people who kept referring to her with honorifics. Her goal was to pioneer the acceptance of Syshin within the Stellar Empire with these two men; the least they could do was be familiar enough to dismiss ordinary conventional trappings when practical.

"What are your names?" she asked them in the common tongue so she was not excluding the rest of the room from the conversation.

"Before 138?" asked the one with the matching numerical designation.

"Yes, your true names, the ones your parents gave you," Solae nodded with a gentle smile. Criestia seized the opportunity to spray the distracted duchesss's blemished skin, which was now already a ripe shade of purple where it had not been cracked when she skidded on the floor, with a cool liquid that helped to reduce the swelling and pain. It did not completely escape her notice that the highborn woman had an accelerated healing factor similar to Rene.

"I am Yarue," volunteered 138 immediately, eager to shed Thorne's system that had reduced him to a number.

"I am Dasin," answered 427 with a touch more reluctance. It had been so long since his real name had been used it felt foreign as it rolled off his tongue. For a moment he internally questioned if he had mis-remembered the name that painted his fondest recollections of his childhood.

"As of today I am appointing you both as my bodyguards. This is my... mate, Rene, and the girl I mentioned that will be joining us on our ship off Zatis, Rosaria. Rene will help teach you how to use some of the equipment we're taking with us so you can defend yourselves better from people like Thorne," she told them in Syshi before looking to her fiance. "Do we need to arm them before we leave? I had Ten find a few things that we can use for improvised armor for them, but it'd be easier to assemble it later when time is not an issue."

"Before you worry about getting them into armor, might I suggest that you think of your own clothing?" Criestia pointed out dryly.

Solae blinked a few times, looked down, and only then realized she was still wearing the dress with a plunging neckline and lower hem well above the knees. More of her was arguably exposed than anyone else in the room- Syshin included. "It would take me longer to change," she admitted. The doctor sighed but did not contradict the statement as it was probably true. The scandalous ensemble was a tight enough fit that it had been a challenge to wiggle into. Now that it was damaged from the skirmish in the hotel it would be even more difficult to remove quickly.

"Do we at least an option that gets them out of those ridiculous furs?" the duchess amended her inquiry.

Although Rene didn't have the same level of experience with Syshin as Solae he could tell that this was alot for Yarue and Dasin to take in. The life of slave was one of routine, albeit unpleasant routine, with deviations that could be dangerous or lethal. To be whisked away like this and told they were being set free might well seem to good to be true.

For all his seeming nonchalance Ten didn't quite manage to avoid tensing slightly when Solae suggested arming the Syshin. Rene wasn't afraid that the Syshin would massacre them if they were armed though, as in the case of Rosaria, he was concerned that lack of expertise might lead to accidents. Sometimes you had to take risks to get results and if the Syshin wanted guns as a sign they truly were free, Rene was ready to comply.

Beside the crystalline table was a large plastic tub with a clip on lid marked with the word ‘emergency’ in large orange lettering. Rene unsnapped the lid and reached into the crate, removing a folded bundle of rubbery gray plastic and an enclosing helmet with a clear visor. A pair of gauntlets with zip closures were attached to the main body of the garment by a length of self adhesive tape.

"We are all going to be changing, or at least, putting these on over our clothes," he explained, shaking out the bundle in his hand to reveal a lightweight vacuum suit. As far as vacc suits went they were not prepossessing, simple neoprene on a skeleton of hardened plastic rings with an air canister and a helmet with breath regulator. It was the sort of thing better suited to work in a zero G storage facility or depressurized freighter than in hard vacuum, but it was perfect for what Rene had in mind. To Rene's surprise the Syshin stiffened at the sight of the suits.

"What is the problem?" he asked as he stepped into his own suit, thrusting his booted feet through the legs and drawing the zip closure that ran from crotch to neck tight. He didn't put his helmet on, partially because it would make talking more difficult and partly because he didn't want to appear more intimidating.

"You are taking us to space?" Dasin asked, his voice suddenly suspicious. It dawned on Rene that the Syshin's experience with zero-G and vacuum suits had been long brutal months aboard Thorne's rock hoppers.

"We need to get to our ship and this is the easiest way to do it without killing anyone," Rene explained.

"As soon as we get aboard we will ditch the suits," he went on before glancing at Solae.

"You are free now and if you want to leave we wont stop you, but at least let us get you off world, if you stay here Thorne will find you eventually," as he spoke he reached down and retrieved another folded suit, holding it out to Dasin. The Syshin glanced at Yarue who gave a grave nod. Dasin took the suit from Rene.

"Can we do as the Duchess... as Solae suggests and get out of these furs? I do not with to die looking like a y'misi," Dasin asked. Rene had no idea what y'misi was but Ten nodded and called to a few of the warehouse personnel. A moment later a foreman trotted over with a pair of large jumpsuits stenciled with the name Consolidated Star Freight, one of Ten's many front companies. The Syshin stripped off the furs without any trace of modesty and pulled on the jump suits. They didn't fit well, but then that was true for nearly everyone who wore such garments. Once they were dressed they began to don the air suits with the ease of familiarity.

"I'm ok," Solae assured him as he helped her into her own suit. Ooanh Park hard warned him that her body could be easily pushed too far and that the signs might not be obvious. Criestia's assurance that she was alright carried some weight but he didn't know to what degree the doctor was factoring in the altered the genetics of the nobility. Rene nodded and gave her hand a covert squeeze of affection. Having had to watch her put herself in danger without being able to help had been taxing and he was almost giddy with relief to have her back safely.

Rosaria seemed to be having some difficulty with her suit, the smallest size Ten had been able to find was big on Solae, but Rosaria, for all she had seen in her short life, was still a child. Ten solved the problem by taking a roll of cargo tape and securing the loose fabric by running loops of tape over the girls shoulders. It looked vaguely ridiculous but it would do for the length of time Rene expected they would need the protection of the suits.

From outside the door there came the soft thrum of an air cushioned cargo sled coming to a stop. The sled was an extremely simple vehicle, merely a trio of fan nacelles with the most rudimentary of controls, intended for moving cargo from ships to loading facility. It was about twenty feet long and intended to carry three standard six by ten foot containers. This one only carried two, one at the front and one at the rear, with the missing container providing a void in which passengers could shelter. Ten nodded his approval as the sled powered down and came to rest on the concrete.

“Duchess,” the kingpin began with a fair imitation of a courtly bow.

“I believe the time has come for us to part ways. I have been honored by your company and I wish you good fortune in the days to come.”

"Let's not stand on etiquette, Ten. In the last few days I think we've proven ourselves as individuals that toss aside the rules when it suits us and our personal morals," she said with a wide smile. Solae stepped forward and, without allowing the criminal broker a chance to react, put her arms around him in a tight hug. He was surprised by the embrace but did not push her away. Very few people in his life touched him without his express permission and not even the nubile young men that he paid for their company would have been so bold. A rare smile alighted on his features briefly as he reluctantly returned the gesture. It would have been rude not to- but a casual bystander could discern in that moment that they were honestly friends.

Rosaria, Yarue, and Dasin watched with varying levels of confusion, curiosity, and shock. All three were now aware that the duchess was so far above Ten's station, not just because of the legitimacy of her profession, but also due to the rigid social structure of the empire, that their platonic relationship would be considered inappropriate. What was more baffling to the trio was the affection. The trio was acquainted with the concept of mates. What was more foreign to them were the very virtues that set Solae apart: her compassion, her kindness, her unconditional love in realms beyond the romantic, her gentler sentiments. Their brutal lives had created an innocent towards softer feelings. Not since their mothers- whom Rosaria did not remember as she was abducted as a babe- had they seen someone so warm and caring without restraint.

"Yes, well," Ten cleared his throat to keep his composure, "thank you, duchess."

"Write me discreetly," she ordered as she withdrew enough to flash him a smile, "but I must insist you call me by my first name when you do or else I'll be cross with you. Having a few people not address me by my title will keep me humble," the diplomat teased playfully.

"Oh yes," Ten remarked dryly, "I do worry about your humility." His sarcasm was evident that even Yarue and Dasin, who struggled with grasping a human's sense of humor through the language barrier, could appreciate he was not being serious. The bigger concern in the room was whether or not Solae would respect her limitations physically. The number of times she had willingly thrust herself into dangerous scenarios, and come perilously close to suffering severe consequences, suggested that she and Rene shared a selfless recklessness.

"Take care of yourself," Criestia called to the former marquise. "And if you can't seem to take care of yourself, at least take care of each other."

"I'll try to heed doctor's orders," Solae confirmed with feigned solemnity as she also thrust a hug upon the unsuspecting physician. Criestia was just as surprised as Ten had been, but more quickly reciprocated, patting her on the back before releasing her. A tear sprung at the edge of one eye. She wanted to believe in the capacity of the virtuous pair but, regardless of the newly acquired bodyguards, she feared that this was the last time they would meet. Luck only lasted so long. If both of them survived this rebellion and subsequent war it would be nothing short of a miracle.

"Kiss for luck?" she asked Rene before standing on her toes to peck him on the lips. She gave it a few prolonged seconds before she winked and whispered in his ear, "I'll need help getting out of this dress later if you're available and fit enough for the task." The garment in question had been hiked up to her hips in order to get the suit on and fitted over top. As she had theorized with Criestia it would have taken much more effort to peel it off of her than try to cover. Solae made a motion to Dasin and Yarue to follow her and allow her paramour the opportunity to say his farewells with a little privacy.

They climbed onto the middle section of the sled that lay empty for their use. Either Dasin or Yarue- it was impossible to tell them apart with their helmets on- helped the linguist make the large step up while the other simply plucked Rosaria off the ground with the greatest of ease and handed her to the duchess. This had bothered the youth but she knew better to say anything aloud. Instead of complaining she helped Solae to tie back her hair, clip, and seal the protective headgear into place.

"I have a duty to you too, Yarue, Dasin," she said in Syshi as she activated the communicator inside the suit. "You may have accepted a bodyguard position, but I will be as diligent as I can to keep you from ever having to shield me from danger. That is what a true lady does," the golden-haired woman elaborated as there was no proper translation for the word 'duchess' in their language. "Your leaders rely on their warriors only when necessary, but they do all they can to prevent battle, to prevent harm, and loss, as the way of twins tells us that both sides fill a purpose. The ship we have is stolen, and I apologize if your recognize the purpose it served before we reclaimed it from slavers, but please trust I will not fail you. I did not come this far to let someone as irredeemable as Thorne win over me."

"You stole the ship?" Yarue or Dasin- she needed a visual cue to discern the correct identity- questioned skeptically.

"We did, from slavers and murderers, who had committed many crimes against the Syshin. In both our cultures it is a sin and I will accept your judgment, but please allow it to ferry you away from this planet, and to somewhere safe," she replied, still speaking in Syshi.

"It is not our place to judge you, mistress," one of them softly said in a voice quiet with anguish. "We have all done things to survive."

Rene stepped to Ten and extended his hand. The crime lord gave him a quizzical look and then took it in his own. Ten’s grip seemed weak, but Rene knew that it was an artifact of the thick gloves he wore rather than any lack of vigor on their hosts part.

“A handshake?” Ten asked sardonically, “I never expected such a thing.” Rene nodded his head, accepting that he had not been particularly trusting of the kingpin despite everything he had done for them.

“You saved Solae’s life and for that you have my thanks.” That much was sincere and besides, many of those who served the Stellar Empire did so for their own reasons, the fact that Ten had been rewarded handsomely for his help didn’t invalidate what he had done.

“Besides, given that my Duchess hugged you, it might be considered insubordinate not to at least shake your hand.” Though Rene delivered it in a dead pan, the corners of Ten’s mouth still quirked into a slight smile.

“A handshake and a joke in the same day, will miracles never cease?” Ten asked, his smile broadening slightly. Rene grinned and released his hand, turning to his four air suited companions.

“Alright let's get our helmets on, we should only need them for a few minutes, but once things start we won't have time to fiddle with them,” he explained before suiting action to words and settling his own helmet down over the closures in the neck of his suit. There was a soft click as the helmet settled into place and then he touched the activation stud with his forefinger. The suit inflated fractionally as pressurized air flowed from the bottle at the suits hip, lifting the neoprene away from his skin. A series of green tell tales lit across the upper edge of his helmet, confirming both pressure and air supply. The Syshin, familiar with the equipment from their forced labor aboard Thorne’s mining vessels, did the same and Rene helped first Rosaria and finally Solae to settle their equipment. He let his head rest momentarily against Solae’s so that their helmets touched, the closest they could come to a kiss and then straightened, making a gesture to the cargo hauler. As they climbed in the whine of the fans increased slightly to compensate for the added weight, though the weight of five people wasn’t a significant imposition on a hauler designed to move several tons of cargo.

“This hauler is going to take us to the docking area where the Bonaventure is berthed,” Rene explained as two of Ten’s men came forward and covered the stow aways with a canvas sheet. As the darkness enclosed them Rene produced a small electric light and turned it on so that no one would panic. His voice was carried to the others over a low power radio built into the helmet, as in vacuum transmission of sound wasn’t possible, and even in the air the plastic face shields tended to muffle and distort voices.

The whine of the fans increased as the hauler lifted into ground effects and slid off towards the dock. Automated guidance systems meant that it didn’t need a pilot, though in this case it was being remotely controlled by one of Ten’s technicians in the Consolidated Star Freight offices. Rene drew a small tablet computer from a crate and turned it on, the screen was split into nine segments, each relaying a video feed from the dock. It was much as Rene and Solae had left it when they disembarked, a subjective age ago, though there appeared to be more people in the area. Short cropped hair and erect posture betrayed them as Bhast’s soldiers despite the fact that they were dressed in mechanics jump suits or loose fitting spacers clothing and making an effort to look nonchalant. The computer highlighted sixteen such individuals, certainly or probably, watchers waiting for the fugitives to return to the ship.

“Are we going outside the dome?” Rosaria asked nervously, “That is why we are wearing airsuits right?”

“Only in a manner of speaking,” Rene explained, “They would see us coming through the dome and stop us.” Further conversation stopped as the hauler slowed and then stopped. Rene made an adjustment to his screen and the view changed to a considerably clearer video feed, this one from the on-board cameras of the hauler itself. As planned they were stopped in front of one of the secondary freight airlocks, a bifurcated rectangle fourteen feet in height and over half that in diameter. This was a secondary airlock, put in place incase a high risk area, like a ship dock depressurized. If that happened this airlock would seal and protect the integrity of the rest of the dome. The lock opened with the ponderous grace required of its heavy metal doors and the hauler slid forward into it as the door closed behind it.

“Mia are you receiving?” Rene asked, turning the feed back to the docking bay. The long cylindrical form of the Bonaventure was visible in one of the cameras, connected to the dome itself by the docking tubes of flexible plastic.

“I hear you Colonel,” Mia purred, her sultry tone provoking concerned looks from the Syshin and Rosaria, unfamiliar as yet with the AI’s peculiarities. There was no time to ease their anxiety however, now that the hauler had entered the airlock they needed to act quickly.

“Are you still able to eject Bhast’s hacking program?” he asked, though he had no reason to believe anything had changed.

“I am, and would be glad to do so, he has been an uncouth guest,” Mia pouted. Rene shook his head, uncertain how the AI had come to that conclusion or if she could really feel something akin to gladness.

“Alright, when I give the command I want you to eject the program and light starboard thrusters three and five,” Rene instructed. It would have technically been possible to give these instructions beforehand, but it vastly increased the likelyhood that Bhast’s people would be able to intercept and decode them. He might well be detected now, but by waiting till the last moment it was unlikely anyone would be able to react in time to counter the plan.

“Lighting the starboard thrusters will damage the docking tubes and will not be sufficient to lift the ship Colonel,” Mia replied the hint of a wicked giggle in her voice.

“Understood,” Rene replied, “Give them a three second burn and then let them return to idle. Once they are off lower the starboard cargo ramp.
“The ramp will be in Zatis atmosphere rather than that of the domes,” Mia purred, compelled by her programing to point out a potential danger to the people she was responsible for.

“Understood,” Rene repeated, “can you be ready in five seconds?”

“I am ready now Colonel,” the computer responded in a voice breathy with desire.

“Execute.”

There was a sudden roar of plasma thrusters firing, with two of the Bonaventure’s eight thrusters firing. Rene could only see a bright light on the video feed but he could imagine the white hot fire melting the docking tubes and burning the docking collars. As if on cue, there was a sudden booming detonation and alarms began to shriek. On the screen pieces of trash and loose paper whipped across the docking bay like a snow storm. Zatis’ atmosphere was not a vacuum so the decompression wasn’t instant or explosive, but it was enough of a differential that it remained impressive. The figures on the screen reacted with predictable panic, rushing for the secondary airlocks as the toxic atmosphere began to displace the breathable air of a moment ago. One man came rushing out of a restroom, his pants forgotten as he bolted across the concrete. Within thirty seconds the docking bay was clear, with all the staff and watchers having reached the safety of the secondary airlocks. Rene had deliberately picked the lock that was closest to the Bonaventure and the farthest run for anyone trying to escape the depressurization. It had still been possible that someone would run for this cargo airlock and if that had happened… well Rene was just as pleased it hadn’t. The telltale in the airlock blinked red, indicating that the other side was no longer pressurized and, on que the hauler began to move forward. The secondary airlocks were designed so that the door facing the depressurized area could be opened, a safety feature to allow those fleeing the disaster to get inside and shelter. The tarp covering them rippled with the impact of air injectors firing to keep the internal atmosphere breathable as the hauler moved forward through the outer airlock door and into the docking bay now flooded with the poisonous mix of gasses that comprised Zatis’ partially terraformed atmosphere.

Sound changed subtly as they moved into the new medium and Rene became aware of the sound of his own breathing. Reaching up, he pulled the catch that held the tarp in place and the canvas covering fluttered away in the still considerable wind rush of the incoming atmosphere. The temperature had dropped significantly and condensate pooled on the exposed areas of the dome as water laced with ammonia redeposited itself on the smooth surface. Rene stood up as the hauler slipped towards the Bonnaventure, visible beyond the smoldering and guttering remains of the oxygen starved plasma fires that had destroyed the docking tubes. He glanced towards the secondary airlocks that the former denizens of the docks had fled towards. They remained closed and it was unlikely anyone inside had any notion of what was going on. That was good, because it would still be possible to shoot from inside the airlocks, though the civilians inside would make that a difficult task. Ten’s pilot guided them expertly through the openings that had held the now destroyed docking tubes, the fans of the hauler momentarily flaring the fires by driving a few more molecules of oxygen to feed them and then they were outside on the concrete pad. As Rene had directed the cargo ramp was extended. Grinning he hoped over the side of the hauler and helped first Solae and then Rosaria over the side so they could head up into the interior of the ship. The two Syshin anticipating Rene’s next instruction, seized the first of the two crates and began to manhandle it up the ramp. Rene joined Yasure at the rear and within a handful of minutes they had both crates aboard.

“Alright Mia close the hatch!” Rene called and the loading ramp began to retract. A sudden clang and then a pair more sounded as gunfire raked the hull. Rene instinctively dropped and was rewarded with a jolt of pain from the medical unit still attached to his side. Another clang rattled the ship as more of Bhast’s men realized what was happening, but it was too late, the hold doors closed their last few inches and sealed with a soft thump. Small arms were no threat to a starship and they weren't going to have time to fetch anything larger. Air began to rush from the vents above the cargo bay as Mia, without instructions, began to re-pressurize the cargo hold. After a minute her pleasant voice announced:

“The atmosphere is now breathable again,” Mia announced, “Welcome home Duchess Falia.”

Solae pressed the release on her helmet, waited for the safety locks to disengage, and eagerly pulled it off to tuck under her arm. Her long hair was tangled and half-plastered to her head, not on account of the temperature, as the suit had maintained a comfortable climate per manufacturing requirements, but because of how incredibly anxious she had been during Rene's plan. She did not think she'd ever be as calm and collected as her paramour in evading soldiers. Their very presence made her incredibly uneasy because it drew to her attention her own mortality. It was true she could operate a firearm with reliable efficiency, but her adversaries were highly trained individuals with much less hesitation when it came to killing, and that could be the difference between life and death.

"Thank you, Mia. Mia, I'd like you to meet our guests. The young lady with us is Rosaria and the two gentleman with us are Dasin and Yarue. I trust when we transferred you to the Bonaventure your language files remained intact?" she inquired as she set down her helmet and began to unzip the airsuit. The dress underneath was much less modest but it gave her a better range of movement. Once she had stepped out of the space garment she pulled her hem down from where it had been hiked above her waist. The duchess suspected that her unusually sensual attire was what gave the AI such a significant pause.

"Yes, of course Lady Solae," she purred. "It is a pleasure you meet you, Rosaria, Dasin, and Yarue. Please do not hesitate to let me know if I can be of any assistance," she greeted breathlessly as if their arrival had her excited in all the most scandalous ways. It was hard to tell which of the trio was more confused or disconcerted by Mia's tone. Rosaria's eyebrows were knitted together in an attempt to determine if a program could really exhibit such emotion, while Dasin and Yarue looked around for the speakers and discreetly fidgeted at the implied illicit affection. They were used to being exploited, not served, and certainly not by anyone who spoke as if they were objects of intense desire.

"We need to head to a jump point before Bhast scrambles her men for a response," Solae announced, more a vocalization of her thoughts to Rene than anything else. "I've no doubt she has the resources to hire a ship to give chase. I'll plot a course and get us off Zatis," she informed her lover, "if you can help the others prepare for take off. We're not going gentle and slow this time; I'll burn the thrusters as hot as is pragmatically possible to break us free of the planet's gravitational pull. It will be exponentially easier to avoid Tan's minions once we're back among the stars."

"You're the pilot?" Rosaria asked with unrestrained surprise. It was not a skill that a noble would ordinarily possess, much less a marquise or a duchess.

"I am," she admitted. "There were only two of us so one us needed to adapt and accept the responsibility." As she spoke she began to make her way to the cockpit. This was a discussion that she was willing to have, as an explanation might prove helpful in gaining their trust in her abilities, but they did have the luxury of time. She shed her shoes as she strode forward and twisted her hair at the nape of her neck to keep it from drifting in her peripheral vision.

"Mia, please ignite all thrusters at 10% until we are clear of the dome. We aren't going to divert all our power to propulsion until we are certain that we won't damage the biosphere. Can you also spin us 180 degrees to give me a better visual?" she requested as she slid into the chair attached to the command console. "Monitor our guests and let me know when they are all safely situated. We don't want anyone getting injured when we break through the stratosphere, do we?"

"Understood, Lady Solae. May I say it is lovely to have you back," the synthetic being told her with overflowing adulation.

For a moment the duchess forgot she was conversing with a computer instead of a family member or a consort. It was nevertheless flattering. She blushed despite her typical composure and cleared her throat to regain it. With a wave of her hand she had pulled up a variety of stellar charts as well as a control panel for the launch functions needed to finalize their departure. Kaldorei territory was a large black splotch on the edges of systems. If she had more time she might appreciate the gravity of having such a detailed, precise map of the heavens, but a vast void where an alien race had successfully prevented them from evening knowing the number of worlds they had colonized.

"We are clear of the bio-dome, Lady Solae. Should I prepare a trajectory for our destination?" Mia posed, though she hadn't been told where that was.

"Run some calculations and determine the route that will get us to a Kaldorei border with the least amount of jumps," Solae said as she rubbed her temple. She wished she could be more specific but she was flying blind so to speak- because so few penetrated beyond their boundaries it was impossible to gauge where their outposts were, their capital, their embassies, anything that would be beneficial. In the absence of any information all she could do was try to make the journey as expedient as possible. The Kaldorei had the technology to obliterate them regardless of the angle of their approach; one could assume they could also provide aid regardless of where they entered as well.

"Per the treatise mutually agreed upon by the Stellar Empire and the Kaldorei people, we are not permitted..." Mia tried to warn in a strangely serious tone.

"I know, Mia, but they are our best hope. I intend them to great them as a peaceful diplomat representing the interests of the empress. Run the calculations and let me worry about the rest," the duchess commanded as she clicked on her seat restraints and began the lift off sequence. It was much more challenging to propel them into space from a layer of a world's atmosphere, but Zatis's bio-domes afforded the people protection from any damage caused by exhaust, chemical discharge, and thermal radiation, providing a unique opportunity to disregard standard regulation without fear of casualties.

"I am intercepting transmissions that indicate they are preparing another vessel to target the Bonaventure," Mia advised with her signature sultry tone.

"We can't wait any longer. It's time to go, Mia," she announced before she took hold of the manual navigation grip with her right hand. With a flourish she increased the propulsion on all their thrusters, forcing the ship to lift vertically, though gravity in the living quarters mitigated the physical sensation for its passengers. It vibrated as it blasted through the sky, cutting through the air like a hot knife, and piercing the invisible shielding that the gasses of Zatis provided its residents. There was a more distinctive jerk as the Bonvanenture broke free of the pull of the planet... but it was miles more smooth of a ride than when they had hastily ran from New Concordia.

"This is planet number three," Solae mused aloud as she reduced the power slightly to conserve fuel. Gliding through space required less effort than either launching or landing. Ten had been generous in making certain they had the resources to take them as far as they needed to go and then some, but she was loathe to squander their boon unless necessary. "In the last few weeks this is the third planet that were were effectively chased off of. It feels as if it may never end, though logically I know it must."

"You were able to contact the empress on Zatis," Mia cooed encouragingly to her mistress.

"I know," the noblewoman conceded, "but even the most exuberant adventurer sometimes yearns for a place they can grow roots. Are you familiar with that expression? Perhaps the Kaldorei can give us the enlightenment we so desperately need. I'd settle for a safe haven that can't be assaulted by coup insurgents," she added thoughtfully as she leaned back against the headrest and stared out at the flickering distant diamonds that every captain used to determine their location, both the past masters of the sea, and the present sailors of the cosmos.

“Are they chasing us?” Rosaria asked, her voice tight with fear and excitement. What would happen to the girl if they were caught was an open question, she might believe she would simply be returned to Thorne, but Rene suspected that the likelihood was that Bhast’s people would shoot her as an unnecessary complication.

“In a manner of speaking,” Rene agreed, tapping in a series of commands to bring up an image of a freighter, not unlike the Bonaventure lighting its thrusters. The console identified her as the fifteen hundred ton, Midian Star, an armed merchantman recorded as trading with the fringe worlds in the Eastern Cross and the in the Thistle Stars beyond. Whether Bhast had paid or simply commandeered the ship didn’t matter as at present it was of little threat.

“They won’t actually be able to stop us before we are able to jump,” Rene explained, he touched a series of buttons and converted his console from a flat screen to a three dimensional hologram. A series of computer generated courses were picked out in gold, with bubbles for the estimated engagement range for each ship projected in red.

“We have too much of a head start and the rotation of the planet has already carried them several thousand miles out of position. It looks like we are going straight but we are actually breaking against our rotational momentum,” Rene told the girl, his eyes cutting to Solae as he spoke, though his paramour didn’t seem to be having any trouble operating the ship it was absorbing her focus almost completely. He rapidly clicked through the sensor boards. There were a dozen or so other ships in the vicinity but nothing, other than the Star, that was within ten thousand miles of the Bonaventure.

“Did you learn about this stuff in the Marines?” Rosaria asked unexpectedly.

“No, my family has a history of naval service though, I read alot about it as a child,” he explained.

“But you decided to join the Marines?” Rosaria asked, perhaps pleased to have something other than the fact they were being chased to occupy her. Rene glanced over to where the two Shyshin sat peering at the humans with concern. It wouldn’t help establish Solae’s credibility if he explained exactly how he had arrived at his present position so instead he merely shrugged.

“Its a long story,” he equivocated, watching the course plots scroll across the screen.

“We will reach minimum safe jump distance in sixty seconds,” Mia announced with breathy anticipation. Rene smiled slightly, he found he missed the AI’s inappropriate tones while he was on the ground on Zatis. Another indication that humans could become used to anything.

“The Midian Star is firing its weapons,” Mia observed without concern. Rene glanced at the screens to see the electromagnetic spikes of a plasma cannon discharge. Most vessels carried some kind of armament to discourage pirates. Most frequently this was a small plasma cannon or in the case of extremely poor captains a pod of guided rockets. Neither of these options was a real weapon in a naval sense ant the Stars captain was firing out of frustration rather than any chance of scoring a hit. They were nearly twenty thousand miles distant and even without an atmosphere to scatter the bolts, even a direct hit would be so diffuse by the time it reached them that it wouldn’t be noticeable. Rene glanced at the scopes a final time. Nothing had changed. Part of him expected the Decameron to emerge from behind on of Zatis’ moons, blocking their escape. It was all too easy to imagine the enemy as perfectly competent and incapable of making a mistake, which sending the courier vessel back to Traulus Major certainly had been. Rene found himself smiling. If the enemy could make mistakes, it meant they could be beaten.

“We have reached minimum safe jump range,” Mia announced.

“Jumping,” Rene declared and reached down and pressed the execute button. The starfield in front of them shimmered and then the Bonaventure leaped forward into the unknown.

Once they had successfully initiated the jump, Solae unlatched the restraints on her chair's harness. "It will take some time to reach the end jump point," she told her passengers so that they were not alarmed by her apparent abandonment of piloting duties. "Let's see what is packed in our crates and get rooms set up for the three of you," she continued as she assumed leadership of the quintet. She knew that her soldier paramour would defer to her judgment and, furthermore, she would not impose on him to sort out living arrangements while he was still injured. He had already done too much. Criestia would be furious if she saw how he had physically taxed himself dragging their cargo onto the ship with the Syshin.

"Where are we going, mistress?" Dasin asked. The duchess was quickly learning it would take her alien companions longer than it took Rosaria to grow accustomed to referring to her by her first name. This was a period of drastic changes to the Syshin's lives. If the most difficulty they faced was an insistence of adhering to titles, then she would consider this social experiment a success.

"We're headed towards Kaldorei space," Solae remarked casually as she stood and walked back towards the hold where their crates had been stored. "Have you ever heard of the Kaldorei?" she inquired once she saw that Dasin and Yarue were following her. Rosaria did so more reluctantly; this was her first time traveling among the stars and she was briefly distracted by the fantastic view they had during quantum travel.

"We have not," Yarue affirmed.

Solae had suspected as much. The history of humans and Kaldorei was but a footnote that was deemed not to be of significant importance to teach to anyone beyond the nobility and military. Peasants were generally unaware of the race- the proven superiority of the Jeweled Armada was too humiliating for the empire to recount to the general populace, and it was not necessary to warn citizens that would never encounter their borders, much less the enigmatic creatures themselves. The Syshin that were enslaved were poorly educated on a whole. What was passed to them was largely from their fellow kin, such as cultural customs, rather than academic knowledge. Furthermore, before they had meant humanity, the Syshin had not been technologically advanced enough to venture beyond their planet.

"They are not human," she told them as she leaned over a crate. With Yarue's help they unsealed the lids of both crates and set them to side. "We don't know too much about them except that they are stronger than humans," she said, then swapped to Syshin to elaborate since she didn't know a way to convey what she meant in the common tongue. "When we met them hundreds of years ago they destroyed the humans that attacked their people, and the nearby human worlds in retaliation." This shocked both Syshin men whose eyes went wide at the revelation in the universal expression of surprise. "A treatise was signed so we are no longer at work, but they do not let humans inside their territory."

"Then why are we going there, mistress?" Dasin asked skeptically.

"Because I believe they will give us a place to rest and recover," the diplomat began slowly, "and because I believe it is our responsibility to right as many wrongs of our predecessors as is possible. Humans were- and are- arrogant, entitled, and cruel. That is what we showed the Kaldorei and that is what we showed the Syshin. But humans can also be compassionate, humble, and kind, and that is what I want to be our legacy. I want to prove that the Syshin deserve a greater place in the galaxy, and to prove to the Kaldorei we have grown into better people than our ancestors."

This answer stupefied both Dasin and Yarue, who were not quite sure how process the bold proclamation. Rosaria just stared at her benefactor. None of them knew how to handle the linguist's proclaimed benevolence. She had neither sad nor done anything to betray her ambitions, but they had grown accustomed to capricious malevolence as a result of being imprisoned by Thorne and subjected to her employees and/or clientele, and Solae was such a stark departure it was a challenge to accept they belonged to the same species. For her part, the duchess understood their suspicion. She was determined to prove herself. Grandiose goals required patience.

"I see Ten had packed everything we asked for and then some," she laughed aloud as she dug through the cargo. There was clothing for herself and Rene, including the garments they had worn during their visit with him and a few new pieces he had selected, including a salacious piece of lingerie she kept hidden from the view of the others. There was attire for Rosaria and the Syshin as well, but the criminal mastermind had clear favoritism. In addition there was a wide array of food stuffs for their journey, medical supplies, weaponry, armor, linens, and everyday sundries such as soap, high quality brushes, and vitamin supplements.

"Rosaria, would you mind helping Rene find something suitable for us to eat? Dasin, Yarue, will you help me set up some beds for tonight?" Solae hauled out the linens and walked off before anyone could protest their assigned tasks.

With the help of her larger and stronger bodyguards, the former marquise changed the sheets on a bunk in the empty crew cabin for Rosaria's use, but she was determined to not force the girl and Syshin to share quarters. The slavers that had operated the Bonaventure before it was "liberated" had a small enough crew that they had converted the second crew cabin into a storage space. The trio cleaned out this improvised storage room, set two mattresses onto the floor at Dasin and Yarue's insistence that was their preference, and similarly dressed them in linens. Solae had been worried their feet would hang off the end, but this was lavish accommodations compared to what they had prior: soft fabric sheets, pillows, and a private chamber for their exclusive use.

Whatever else Alayla Thorne had instructed her protege in the culinary arts clearly were not among them. Rosaria seemed perplexed as Rene handed her a knife and instructed her to dice some of the fresh vegetables Ten had included among the more stable long term rations. The Bonaventure’s galley was small, little more than a food preparation unit, a central table and a sink but it was sufficient for the task. Rene diced the frozen meat into cubes with a powered knife and then took pity on Rosaria and sliced the remainder of the tubers and pavalo into strips before pouring it all into one of the metal inserts that fit into the prep unit. That accomplished he added some salt and pepper and activated the unit. It hissed for a moment as high pressure steam filled the chamber and then a counter began to tick down.

“We could just heat up the frozen food,” Rosaria complained as Rene took the knife from her hand and rinsed it off.

“We could,” Rene agreed, “but fresh food will only last so long, and it might help our new friends to feel that they are all in this together if we share a meal we actually cook.” Communal meals were an important part of Syshin culture as the aliens didn’t express the same extreme individualism that many human societies embraced. A stew might be a simple meal but it sent the message that Solae didn’t look down upon her new retainers. That idea might be hard for the brutalized Syshin to internalize and thus it bore repeating. Rene was reminded of the way that Marine’s tended to eat together, though the thought made his stomach tighten. During basic training his high caloric requirements meant that he had constantly been hungry on the meager rations the corp deemed acceptable, even scrounging food from his friends he had lost more weight than had been healthy. Although the medics had been aware of the problem they had been reluctant to engage in favoritism towards someone of noble birth.

“You people think of everything in political terms don’t you,” Rosaria observed. Rene offered a tight smile.

“Not quite everything no, but life is politics, no matter where you are or what you are doing,” he observed.

“Let’s go find the others.”

Found Solae and the Syshin in the cargo hold, the appeared to be finishing a tour of the small ship. Rene glanced at the information display as he stepped through the hatch. Although Mia would inform them of any changes he found it comforting to echo the main bridge display on at least one screen in each major compartment. The voyage into Kaldorei space required three jumps, or at least Rene had approved a three jump route. It would have perhaps been possible to make it in two but speed and jump duration were not the only considerations. As a practical matter ships jumped between gravity masses, suns and blackholes for the most part, following the contours in space time. Though it was theoretically possible to jump between any two masses, the jump drives worked by exploiting differentials in the fabric of spacetime, and were orders of magnitude more effective when the masses they used to anchor the jumps were closer in astronomical terms. Exploration vessels were spherical and carefully uniform in density to allow them to make longer jumps, that wasn’t practical for freighters or warships and thus they tended to make short hops between systems that were relatively close. The Bonaventure was a tramp freighter whose drives, like the rest, of her were of questionable quality regardless of what Mia’s automated diagnostics. Rene had, therefore, selected a fairly conservative course. The first jump was to an unnamed system, simply an alphanumeric designator for a star orbited by a couple of unimpressive gas giants. The jump was in the general direction of the core worlds, a ruse to conceal their real destination, though Rene couldn’t imagine anyone would guess they were headed for Kaldorei space. From there they would dogleg back towards the galactic east, stopping to replenish air and water and to normalize the quantum inconsistency that jump drives eroded, before jumping to one of the gateway worlds where they could expect to encounter Kaldoeri and start whatever negotiations would take place. The first jump had a little over twenty eight hours left to go.

“This ship carried captives off New Concordia?” Yarue was asking, sounding understandably agitated. The hold smelled considerabley better and looked considerably cleaner than it had when they landed on Zatis. It occured to Rene that Mia had been making rudimentary attempts at housekeeping, probably by bastardizing plumbing to rinse the cargo hold of the stink of slaves. It was easy to forget that Mia was, at heart, a housekeeper.

“What happened to the crew? Yarue pressed, not quite glaring.

“All dead during the change of ownership,” Rene said as he came through the hatch.

“As Solae has told you, we have no tolerance for slavers,” he explained. Rene wouldn’t have executed the men out of hand, but he couldn’t have claimed to have shed any tears that they were gone.

“Do they have records of their transactions?” Yarue demanded. Rene exchanged a look with Solae.

“I don’t know but you are certainly welcome to look, or we can help you if you need it,” Rene said carefully.

“I was taken from New Concordia, I would learn the fates of my clan mates if I can,” Yarue declared.

"I should warn you that what little I've seen of slaver records," Solae began slowly, "and that was only right before we took this ship," she clarified quickly, "will not have any recognizable names. They might have a physical description and age, but they might also just have a listing of genders." While she had no objection to him reviewing what information was still stored on the ship, she felt it only prudent to prepare him for how impersonal they would be, and how the data could be frustratingly insufficient. It was not all that different from the distant past when humanity had enslaved subsets of its population for being the wrong political affiliation, the wrong religion, the wrong race, the wrong anything they could arbitrarily decide made one superior to the next. The Stellar Empire liked to believe it had moved on, but evidence pointed to it only repeating itself with the excuse that the Syshin were aliens and thus less entitled to the same liberties.

"I still want to see them," Yarue insisted.

"Mia, can you please make any records the Bonaventure has from the previous owners and their business transactions available? Translate them into Syshi as well so our new friends can read it more easily," she ordered to the AI that was present all around them and constantly eavesdropping.

"Understood, Lady Solae. The crew quarters you have elected do not have a sufficient apparatus for viewing. May I recommend that I make the records available on a handheld device?" she cooed with such blatant sensual favoritism that Rosaria looked instinctively to Rene for a reaction. He just shrugged his shoulders. The couple had grown used to Mia's peculiarities- and it was not as if the sentient machine could actually seduce the duchess. Even if she would, she was an overly emphatic fan of the romance she had witnessed in her vessel.

"Thank you, Mia," Solae nodded as she dug around the cargo hold for a device. She handed one over to Yarue before offering another one to Dasin. Both nodded to her in gratitude reflexively. "May I suggest we save that for after dinner? If you have any trouble with figuring out how to use the device, just call out for Mia no matter where you are and she will assist you."

"Can I have one as well?" Rosaria asked eagerly. What education she had was limited what Thorne specifically approved and was readily available on Zatis. The simple devices that Rene and Solae had used throughout their childhood and adult lives was a foreign freedom, with an exciting amount of forbidden knowledge, that was too tempting to ignore. "Will it tell me about other planets? Or about the empire?" she asked. Thorne had very little respect for the empress, her laws, or the politics that did not affect her business. There was a wealth of questions she wanted answers.

"Of course. Mia will only prohibit you from viewing my and Rene's personal data or making administrative decisions. You won't be able to command the ship, for example, or turn off any of the central controls accidentally. Her programming does have some restrictions that require the authority of the primary owner and user- in this case myself- so if there are any issues or conflicts she will page me for my consent," she explained. It was the nicest way of alerting them that a mutiny was impossible. Solae would not have allowed them aboard if she did not trust all three of them, but the safeguards were in place for a reason, and she did not discount the possibility that all these brave new paths they were blazing might be too much for a person to bear.

"Rene and I went to Amber Horizons," she added more conversationally. "Nari and Enro are the elders there. I do not know how long ago you were on New Concordia, or if you are familiar with that settlement, but they were very kind to us."

"Is that where you learned Syshi?" ventured Dasin. Out of the corner of her eye Solae could see Yarue's shoulders relax. Obviously the drop of two names and ordinary individual would not know was sufficient in proving once more that the noblewoman and solider were honest in their proclaimed allegiance.

"No, I learned it long before. I worked in the embassy as a diplomat with a specialization in linguistics," she smiled with a reminiscent fondness. "There was not any language spoken in which I didn't wish to be fluent. It seemed especially ridiculous to me that there was one spoken so frequently on at least half of the planets in the empire that my peers didn't care to master. It's been a very rewarding experience," the duchess confessed, "because in learning a tongue you learn much about a culture."

"Where are you embassy friends?" Dasin asked. "Why are they not here as well?"

"They were all killed by Duke Tan- or the former duke, since he stylizes himself as an emperor now and the empress has stripped him of his title and bestowed it upon me. They used artillery on the building. I was... the only survivor, and only by accident."

This somber admission made the curious Syshin fall quiet out of respect. Even Rosaria was slightly shaken by the prospect of an adversary that so coldly destroyed what was alluded to as a government structure filled with living, breathing human beings. It took a certain amount of callous malevolence to so easily spill that much blood. Even Thorne would have paused before unleashing that amount of violent. To call it a coup felt like too kind and generous a label.

A noble’s education was very extensive. Rene could speak intelligently on history, philosophy and the sciences. He could run an estate, recruit retainers and adjudicate disputes between vassals. He knew the byzantine minutia required to operate at court, he could fence, he could dance and he could discuss poetry and although he had no aptitude for creating it, could discuss and appreciate music. He had hunted game on Capella and knew how to track, fish and live outdoors. The brutal regime of training and exercises since his enlistment in the Marines had taught him to fight, to shoot, to clear a building and to plant a demolition charge. It appeared though, that this wealth of experience did not include any particular flair for the culinary arts. The stew was thin and bland, requiring the addition of considerable salt to give it any character at all beyond vaguely meat flavored. The two Syshin didn’t seem to mind, enthusiastically spooning the stuff into their mouths. Rosaria and Solae were a little more reserved, though they were both hungry and polite and made no complaint. Rene wished that it had come out better, not so much because he personally cared, the stew was as good or better than most military rations he had eaten, but because he wished that everything he did that touched on Solae was perfect. This was both a personal desire to make the woman he loved happy and a professional concern to execute his duty to the Duchess he served as well as he possibly could.

“Well,” Rene said judiciously, “I suppose we still have an opening for a chef.” The comment bought a snicker from Rosaria and a smile from Solae though the two Syshin did not react appreciably. Perhaps their alien olfactory senses rendered the stew into something less objectionable, or perhaps whatever Thorne’s overseers had fed them simply compared disfavorably.

“Speaking of openings,” Rosaria said brandishing her spoon.

“What are our jobs going to be, when are you going to start training us?”

Rene glanced at Solae who nodded her approval to proceed. Having spent the last weeks laser focused on reaching the PEA it felt surprisingly good to be laying out plans for future action. Neither he nor Solae had expected the Empress to be at the Winter House when they called Rene’s father to raise the alarm. Alric Du Quentain had spoken to his son at some length before he sent him to court in the Crystal City. The elder Quentain had considerable respect for the relatively young Mercedez whom he viewed as an intelligent, decisive and possibly brilliant leader. That assessment had been part of the calculus that had sent Renard to court rather than to the Fleet Academy or some other more traditional form of preparation for service. It was one thing to hear his father talk about it and another to actually see it. With a scant few minutes to consider the unexpected situation the Empress had, at a word, upended the political situation in the Eastern Cross in a manner that would be felt for years. Even if Solae were killed now the Falia family would replace the Tan’s as the governors of the sector. Systems of patronage would tumble like a series of dominos, shredding the existing hierarchies of Eastern Cross. Before Mercedez made her proclamation the only choice the Noble families had was to fall in line behind the Duke and hope that he emerged victorious. Now, families who had traditionally been vassals or clients had the option of breaking with their historical alliances and joining Solae, justifying the decision as both being in their own interests and demonstrating loyalty to the Empire. At a stroke Mercedez had destabilized Tan’s support and created a powerful class of loyalists in the event that Tan’s rebellion fell apart. Mercedez couldn’t simply snap her fingers and provide Solae with troops and fleets, especially if there was trouble on Capella, but with a word she had created exactly the kind of weapon that a diplomat like Solae was trained to use.

“Well,” Rene temporized, taking a moment to organize his thoughts.

“We have a couple of days to reach Kaloderi space, I’ll set up a range in the hold and give everyone some basic weapons training,” Rene said, making a vague gesture with his spoon.

“Yasure and Dasin will need to look like armsmen so its important that they look like they know how to handle weapons,” Rene explained. Ten had included uniforms for the purpose in his gift, though how he had managed to get the garments tailored for Syshin frames he had no idea. That was somewhat less surprising than the Marine dress uniform he had found in a travel case, complete with full and correct Imperial insignia down to the sword-through-planet service tabs. A few hours of weapons training wouldn’t turn the Syshin into soldiers, or even into marksmen, but it would give Rene some confidence that the two Syshin wouldn’t accidentally shoot themselves.

“Just them?” Rosaria asked somewhat poutily. Rene shook his head.

“Everyone. There are only five of us, it’s important that…” he trailed off uncertain of how to proceed. He was Solae’s military attache and it was important that he present the situation in particular terms. Solae was unusually truthful when it came to dealing with her retainers but maintaining morale was also important.

“We are going to need every advantage we can get,” Rene finished. He didn’t imagine that Rosaria knowing which end of a gun was which would make much of a difference, but it wasn’t as though they had a lot of margin.

“Maybe we can pass Rosaria off as a Handmaiden,” Rene mused with a questioning glance at Solae.

“A maid?!” the girl asked somewhat indignantly. Rene shook his head.

“A Handmaiden works as an agent of her principal. Usually they are members of noble families. They gain experience and favor in exchange for their services, ” Rene explained. Sometimes a Handmaiden was just an ornament, but more frequently they handled social intelligence, served as confidential couriers and acted as the eyes and ears of their Mistresses. Working as the Handmaiden of a Duchess would be a highly sought after position, a fact that Rosaria with her limited knowledge of the higher echelons of the Stellar Empire, didn’t yet appreciate.

"Before Mia was installed on the Bonaventure, she oversaw a nobleman acquaintance's home, and should still have a wealth of information available on the sociopolitical hierarchy of the Stellar Empire's aristocracy. You can query her on what a handmaiden is and make a decision for yourself," Solae said encouragingly. She personally thought it was the best idea given Rosaria's predilections and training through Thorne. The youth had been groomed to be shrewd, cunning, and perceptive. This was a potentially deadly combination should their youngest companion betray them, but it made her especially suited for anything remotely related to espionage, and could be the difference between fading to obscurity or rising to the upper echelons of the elite. Upon further consideration, the duchess had to admit internally that the way the girl had been raised to be cutthroat was not unlike a few esteemed prestigious families on Capella.

"While we're on the topic of advantages, I think Rene and Rosaria should endeavor to learn some Syshi. It could be useful for all of us to be able to converse in a language that is not the common tongue. We'll be able to have more covert discussions, will help prove ourselves as pioneers of inter-species relationships, and make it easier on me if I'm not always bridging the gap of misunderstandings. When our muscles are tired we can stretch our minds," she proposed.

Rosaria was less than thrilled about this prospect. While she was eager to learn, and having a 'secret' language most humans didn't speak was appealing, it was still not her first choice. There was a negative stigma associated with the Syshin race. She hid her frown well but her body posture was reflective of her lack of enthusiasm. "Just Syshi?" she ventured.

"It won't be easy to master," Solae forewarned diplomatically. "Yarue and Dasin have had years and near-total immersion to become bilingual," she continued, "I can understand that hearing me speak Syshi, and the two of them speak Imperial common, can give the impression it will be a simple matter that will only take you a week. That is not the case. If you are truly dedicated, and can become fully articulate in Syshi, then I will be happy to teach you another language. Trust me when I say, though," she leaned forward with a smile that made her eyes sparkle with mischief, "some of my colleagues at the embassy called me mad for taking on so many languages."

"You knew the most?" Rosaria asked intrigued. The two Syshin looked up with a shared curiosity. What drove their so-called benefactors interested them more than they admitted aloud. Once they understood all of Solae and Rene's motivations it would be easier for them to solidify how much time and energy they would be willing to commit to their causes.

"A true lady doesn't reveal how many languages she speaks," she replied with a wink before sitting back in her chair with a pensive expression. "That might be a tactic to employ with Yarue and Dasin, if you two are agreeable. It shouldn't be necessary with the Kaldorei, but when we are with those we don't trust, I could converse with you exclusively in Syshi. It would leave others to believe that you do not speak common and they might incidentally reveal things through their words that they would not otherwise. Again, it is your choice," she emphasized. "It would give us something of a potential advantage, but I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable if you feel it is deception by omission."

"We have much to think about," Yarue said in a solemn tone. It was overwhelming for the Syshin; to have nearly unlimited access to a vast array of information, equal treatment by their new employers/hosts, consideration for their emotions, respect for their desires, and an adventure to a distant part of the galaxy even humanity had not dared to approach. "May we retire, mistress?"

"Of course, you need not ask my permission. Let Mia know if you need anything. The cargo is also for all of us to share if you are too cold, and the galley is open to you if you are thirsty in the middle of the night. I realize that that my title makes this a little awkward, but when we are traveling like this there is no need to be formal," she smiled. "I'll clean up," Solae announced firmly with no room for argument for an objection to her handling the chore.

Dasin and Yarue took their leave first, chatting excitedly in whispers about the secrets they might uncover on their devices. The duchess found it refreshing to see Yarue, who had been so melancholic and despondent in his pictures for Thorne's services, invigorated with hope. Rosaria more reluctantly went to her room, but even she seemed jubilant at not having a sense of ownership and privacy that had never been afforded to her before. Rene lingered behind, and almost voiced an argument for him assisting her at the very least, but the way she instructed him to lay down and wait for her made it clear she wanted him to save his strength.

It had been a long day. When they had departed Zatis it was after sunset and well into the evening hours. Despite the late hour, Rene's healing injury, and the ugly bruise on Solae's thigh, the former marquise elected to abuse the privilege of soundproofed captain's quarters. Once again they had emerged victorious. Once again they had survived circumstances that ought to have resulted in their death. She would not lose her opportunity to celebrate their promotions, the success at the embassy, or what precious fact they were alive. It was not until Rene was unable to continue any longer that she released him from what she called 'his duties as an official fiance' that night.

Rene felt a pleasant warmth in his flesh as he awoke, almost unconsciously his fingers found the soft curve of Solae’s hip, gathering her supple flesh as she moaned sleepily. With gentle firmness he rolled her over onto her back and kissed at her belly button, eliciting a giggle before working his way up her midriff and over her breasts, with teasing kisses..His dog tags trailed along in the wake of his lips until he had the noblewoman pinned beneath him. Given the fact that they had spent the last few days in a combination of frantic action and heart stopping terror, it probably made more sense to rest, but what was sensible and what was desirable were two very different things. A soft chime sounded from the PA system and the lights came on. Rene froze atop Solae before Mia’s voice announced.

“I am sorry Lady Solae, but we will be completing our jump in just over seven minutes.” The AI did sound sorry, which given her programming, was probably as close to true as it could be. Solae giggled and lay a hand against Rene’s cheek for a moment, before he reluctantly rolled off and grabbed for a wash cloth quickly freshening himself as best he could without an actual shower. The wound on his side was healed in a plug of rough scar tissue, medically acceptable if aesthetically ugly, that the medical computer rated at no risk of reopening. If and when he had the time he would submit to the cosmetic treatment that would erase the scar but that was beyond the ability of the medical facilities on a tramp freighter and not a particularly good use of his time. He grabbed a set of spacers clothing, shapeless gray trousers and tunic and pulled them on. The clothes were among Ten’s gifts were typical of the thoughtful analytical criminal. Rene snapped his combat boots on and stood to kiss Solae lingerly.

“I’ll see you on the bridge,” he told her before stepping out to allow her to clean and dress in private.

“Extracting,” Rene said as he keyed the end of the jump sequence. The starfield outside the main viewpoint, a confused dance of lights, suddenly resolved itself into the familiar patterns of the white speckled black. Solae, Rosaria and the two Syshin were present. Solae was needed to pilot the ship but the other three were simply there to experience the novelty of arriving in a new system. Rosaria had probably never been of Zatis and Yarue and Dasin had made their journeys in the holds of ships and probably under sedation besides.

The experience was less romantic than might have been imagined. Particular as H-21-68 was not an inhabited system like Zatis or New Concordia. Rene had selected it, more or less at random as a transit point between Zatis and Kaledori space. They would remain here only long enough to allow the quantum state of the ship to hetrogenoize. Starships traveled between the stars by a function of quantum superposition, exploiting the ability of a particle to be in two places at the same time to exceed the speed of light by stuttering through a series of trillions upon trillions of superpositions. The process was so marginally efficient as to almost defy computation, but even a fraction of ‘instantaneous’ was enough to allow ships to bridge the unimaginable voids between stars. A side effect of the process was quantum homogenization, the tendency of particles acted upon by the drives to assume the same quantum state. Left unchecked this could eventually lead to a variety of unpleasant results, that started at sudden uncontrolled fusion reactions and moved rapidly downhill from there. Rene checked the scopes. The particle counter registered the MacMillan particles, a useful indicator of quantum destabilization, at about 0.5 percent. A reasonably safe number for a ship of this size and craft.

“Are we supposed to see something?” Yarue asked. Rene shook his head.

“There is nothing to see,” Rene explained.

“This system has a pair of gas giants and a neutron star, there are a few asteroid belts but nothing that is economical for anyone to bother mining.”

“There is a contact in orbit of H-21-68 dash 2,” Mia interrupted in a throaty purr. Rene punched at his keyboard bringing up the readings on the sensor board. Although it wasn’t rational he had the sudden terrified feeling that they had fallen into a trap set by Duke Tan. That was not the case. The sensors showed an aged freighter, four or five times the size of the Bonaventure in a wide orbit of the second gas giant. Mia had identified it by an automated distress beacon. There were no power readings of any kind, and the sensors painted it as void cold. Rene bought up the beacon’s transmission on one of the communications screens.

**Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, this is Free Trader Corsica, our drives are inoperable and we cannot maneuver, requesting immediate assistance.** The message looped from there repeating over and over as long as the battery in the emergency transmitter held out.

“Can we help them?” Rosaria asked, glancing between Solae and Rene. The two nobles exchanged looks.

“According to the transmission log, this distress call is over sixty years old,” Rene explained, highlighting the date in the header information cascading over the console. Civilian ships usually avoided uninhabited system for exactly this reason. Navigationally one gravity well was as good as another, but the fear of mechanical failure with no one to come to the rescue was enough to keep most people on well traveled paths.

“So they left the ship?” Rosaria asked in puzzlement. Rene sighed and shook his head. While it was possible a ship that size had a lifeboat, there was no way the crew had escaped and left the ship to circle this gasball for the past six decades.

“More likely they ran out of food and air,” Rene told her.

“According to the scopes the ship is cold with no life readings, there is no chance there is anyone left alive, just an emergency beacon broadcasting, probably hooked up to a solar array to keep it live.” Rosaria blanched at the thought.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked, her face a little frightened.

“Well after we have some breakfast, hopefully prepared by someone other than me, we are going to go down to the hold and I am going to start teaching you all how to use small arms. After that Solae and our new friends are going to teach us some Syshi, by that time we should have normalized our Macs enough to be ready to jump out of here.”

"The important thing is to know what happened to Free Trader Corsica would not happen to us," Solae said, feeling that it was imperative to reassure their new companions of the differences between the Bonaventure and other standard, less fortunate, freighters. "Their vessel almost certainly has a computer that can handle basic tasks such as maintaining an orbit or keeping a beacon on looped broadcast, but it does not have Mia, who is a top of the line AI that is able to adapt to her circumstances and postulate on possible solutions without our input. If all of us were rendered unconscious, like Corsica's crew decades ago, she would have considerably more resources at her disposal. We are quite lucky to have her with us," she mused quietly as she stared out the large window towards the distant gas giant in question. All of her and Rene's genetically enhanced intelligence still paled in comparison to their synthetic assistant. Perhaps they were more innovative, and could understand social cues better than a machine would, but Mia was able to run multiple programs at once, process the outcomes for exponentially more scenarios in seconds, and infallibly analyze facts that were absent a human component.

"Then why do we need a pilot?" Rosaria asked, her tone curious rather than condescending.

"Lady Solae has superior finesse," Mia purred with implicit sultry approval. "She is able to perform more delicate functions in extreme conditions, as evidenced by landing the Bonventure during a hurricane."

The memory brought a sour expression to the duchess's features. To Rene it was perhaps a moment to be celebrated, as it proved that the noblewoman had unique skill to be envied, but it had been an experience that robbed her of the delight she might have had otherwise in controlling a vehicle that glided effortlessly through the cosmos. Nothing could erase the frustration, the terror, the unbridled anger she felt at having her first time at the helm be under duress and by figurative force. She steered because she was the only one that could, with death as the alternative, but she could not in good conscience say it was slightly enjoyable. It couldn't be. With the splendor ripped away she regarded it as a duty and obligation, with as much enthusiasm as her soldier paramour probably felt when he was strategizing the best approach to a hostile encounter destined to result in combat.

Her truest passion was diplomacy. It was their destination she yearned for more than anything. Solae's heart swelled when she thought of how much she wanted to understand- their language, their customs, their politics, their economy, their religion, social structure, their hopes and dreams, their greatest fears- that was what she treasured. Diversity was enthralling to the aristocrat. Most of her peers sought to subjugate and assimilate everyone into the woven fabric of humanity, to homogenize a universe, but she adored the differences that colored each galaxy uniquely. She would shake every outstretched hand and raise any and all children she had the pleasure of bearing to do the same.

"Dasin, Yarue, would either of you be willing to each me a Syshin dish, provided we have the ingredients?" she asked as she rose from her chair. This was not meant as an exercise in bringing together the five beings through food. Solae selfishly wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to explore the Syshin culinary world. They were not yet in Kaldorei territory, but it was not the exclusive source of new experiences, and she was anxious to make friends with the members of a race she had spent far more time studying than she was willing to divulge.

"I will join you," Dasin readily agreed. "My father taught many years ago," he added. It was a touch surprising. Of the pair of Syshin, he struck her as the one with a more aggressive personality, one she would ascribe being a brave warrior Inyorin. When one assumed the role of Inyorin they were typically relieved of some domestic duties to devote their time to training their body, both strength and reflexes. It was possible he was enslaved in his youth and prevented from being old enough to become one, however.

"Thank you," Solae said as she flashed a smile and gestured for him to lead the way to the kitchen.

"We studied your knowledge last night," Dasin stated once they had entered the small galley. There was barely room for the two of them to move around comfortably without bumping into each other. Once they were alone he spoke in Syshi for ease. His voice was a smooth baritone but had more of a nasal pitch than the deeper resonance of Yarue. "The thing they call you- 'DU-CHESSSS,'" he tried to enunciate properly without hissing, "means your rank is just below the empress. Does the device speak the truth?" As he posed his question he dug through the produce that had been packaged by Ten and quickly took a visual inventory.

"That's true," she conceded, "It's a loftier position than I expected or wanted if I must be honest. Why do you ask?"

"Does that mean the empress will listen to you more than others like the mistress we left?" he inquired. Now she understood his aim. He was trying to deduce what sort of power she held and if she could bend the ear of the leader of the Stellar Empire to her cause. There were complexities to the government she did not know how to articulate, ones beyond any comparisons she could make to the Syshin, and so she fell silent as she pondered the best manner of explaining. It was good practice for when the Kaldorei dignitaries she would encounter.

"A citizen of the empire is unlikely to speak with the empress during their lifetime, because there are so many of them, and she is not endless. Even with twin leaders, they'd be unable to know everyone of your community if it stretched beyond the horizon, yes? Dukes and duchesses are bound to service, to represent the people to the empress, and represent the empress to the people. They take the most crucial topics before her and try to handle the rest themselves," she elaborated as he handed her some starch vegetables to peel. "Yes, I believe she will listen to me more than your prior mistress, but I must prove my loyalty and worthiness, just as an Inyorin must prove he will fulfill his oaths," Solae said with a smile.

"I understand this struggle," Dasin acknowledged with a grim expression. "We will make a baked dish of the Syshin, one that gives energy for the entire day for those that walk the plains and wander through the forests," he declared.

"Mia, take notes of his directions for me, please," the linguist requested before they set to work.

Rene grabbed Rosaria’s pistol barrel the skin of his palm obstructing the receiver from moving back and forward.

“What..” the girl started, instinctively trying to pull the weapon away. Rene kept his grip without difficulty.

“Control the barrel,” he repeated, “If you wave it around like that you are likely to shoot someone, probably yourself but more problematically me.” Teaching civilians to use firearms and particularly pistols was a nerve wracking business, more so because Rene was trying to be polite about it. If he had waved a loaded gun around like Rosaria had just done the best he could have expected was a dressing down and more likely a blow to emphasize the point. It didn’t help that most people had seen enough holo-dramas to assume they had some idea what they were doing. Yarue took the opposite attitude to Rosaria. Probably owing to having seen weapons used first hand he was almost fearful of the small pistol that Rene had issued him. That caused its own problems though they weren’t as immediately life threatening as Rosaria accidentally shooting someone would be.

The main hold of the Bonaventure was about fifty feet on a diagonal and thus the only area on the ship long enough to provide a practical range. A tarp had been hung from the opposite corner with four targets painted on them. The targets were more or less human shaped. Less really given Rene’s limited artistic abillity, but psycologist had long known that, despite a species wide penchant for violence and war, individual humans did not like to harm each other. Without proper training a combatant was likely to jerk the barrel to the side at the last minute, or to slash with the edge of a blade rather than thrusting home. Overcoming that instinct meant training people with targets that looked human. Rene found the notion of training people out of an impulse to spare each others lives to be vaguely depressing.

“Alright, take aim like I showed you,” Rene told the pair, demonstrating a proper shooters stance, legs spread and weight shifted forward. Rosaria and Yarue aped the stance, peering over the sights of their weapons.

“Fire when you are ready,” Rene began to say. Predictabley Rosaria fired before he had finished speaking. Plasma snapped across the room, burning a fist sized black mark. They were using plasma pistols, civilian variants of the marine issued side arm that Rene was used to. The power level had been dialed back to a minimum, theoretically ‘less lethal’ setting that allowed them to practice without shooting hole in the freighters hull. Rosaria’s shot was well wide of her mark and she cursed in frustration, Yarue did better winging his target with a black burn.

“You need to squeeze the trigger gently, jerking it like that makes the barrel waver,” Rene told the girl.

“How many times are you going to tell me that!” she snapped in frustration.

“Until you start doing it,” Rene replied simply.

“Dinner is ready Colonel,” Mia purred lustily, evidently having awaited a pause in the conversation. Rene nodded his head.

“Ok, safe your weapons,” he instructed, demonstrating by clicking the saftey on and siding the powercell from his own weapon. Rosaria and Yarue did the same, although in Rosaria’s case with a mixture of reluctance and frustration. Rene smiled inwardly. Did the girl expect to be a sharpshooter on her first day? Evidently she did, but if that was the case she was going to be learning some hard lessons about a great many subjects in the near future. The thought occurred to Rene that perhaps Thorne had punished her if she hadn't learned quickly enough. He felt a good deal more sympathy than he had a moment ago.

“You are doing well, trust me, it takes some time,” he said to his two students as they all headed for the improvised table where Solae and Dasin would bring the food. Rene and Solae had agreed that the meal would also serve as a chance to discuss what to expect when they were contacted by the Kalodrei. In addition to being well born enough to work in an important diplomatic post Solae had a passion for the work that was obvious to any one who knew her. Rene was proud of Solae and pleased that she had found work that bought her such joy. The Kalodori were there best chance of survival and Rene was pleased that the woman he loved was an expert.

Neither Dasin nor Solae were a particularly gifted cook, but Dasin intuitively knew how to improvise with the ingredients they had on hand, and Solae had a treasure trove of recipes and information through Mia that guided them through to an edible end product. The taste of their meals ranged from adequate to good, though the plating left much to be desired, but perhaps most importantly, the process had genuinely become the first stepping stone of a friendship. Their relationship was still in the beginning stages, but they had grown from polite respect to casual familiarity. They were still discussing how finely a particular starchy root had to be chopped for the dinner dish as they served the rest of the group their platters. Steam curled off the glazed and baked protein entree, a meat curated in laboratories on Zatis where there was no real pasture for livestock, with a vegetable medley side seasoned with herbs. There was no reason to dip into bars and dry rations when Ten had provided more luxurious produce for the short-term.

"How did it go?" the duchess asked Rosaria conversationally as she sat down at the table. Dasin took his place next to Yarue. Socialization had helped to ease the species barriers, but it had not eradicated them completely, and perhaps never would. Idly Solae wondered if the pair of Syshin men would come to treat each other as a substitute twin. In the future she would need to find a way to approach the topic of mates. It felt cruel to have her beloved so close to her when they had not ever had the opportunity to seek out the same sort of companionship. After they resolved matters with the Kalderi they could broach the subject and determine if the Bonaventure could accommodate another couple. She was relatively certain it could be modified to do- but first they had to find the time and resources to make basic repairs the vessel sorely needed.

"I don't want to discuss it," Rosaria stewed as she plopped in her seat. The more distance they put between the ship and Thorne, the more the teenager acted her age. It was strangely reassuring to see the youth brooding. They could never fully undo the trauma and damage caused by a slaver raising a child in her image, but they could do their best to breathe hope into her, to give her as much patience, caring, and understanding as was within their capabilities.

"Don't let how good of a shot Rene is discourage you," she said with a smile. "Ruggedly handsome and quick-footed as he is, I know for a fact there are some things he struggles with. You ought to how quickly he becomes frustrated when he's trying to manually pilot the Bonaventure. And if it's any consolation, you have more potential than I do for physical strength." Solae picked up her utensils and began to carefully slice her filet into bite-sized pieces. No one was supervising her nor judging her etiquette, but it was a habit that was not worth trying to fight, not unless the situation demanded.

"What do you mean?" Rosaria asked, noticeably mollified. Dasin and Yarue gazed at her with rapt attention; they were also curious as to why she was able this assertion. In their eyes the two human female's chief difference was their age. How the elder one jumped to such a factual conclusion was beyond the scope of their knowledge.

"Before I was born, my parents made some modifications to me, one of which was to ensure this hair color," she said calmly with a gesture towards the unnaturally golden lockets. "No one can be perfect. In order for me fit their overall vision, they made sacrifices in other areas, which imparted corresponding limitations. All four of you have endurance superior to mine," she admitted with grace and dignity. Another noblewoman would not dare admit her weakness. In order for this quintet to operate effectively, Solae wanted to be candid, so that they could compliment each other without pride crippling their efforts. It was a small price to pay.

"Are you good with the pistol?" Rosaria asked after a short pause.

"Not as good as Rene," she conceded. She and Rene both knew she was a fine shot. Recent history had proved it came down to a life and death scenario she could handle the weapon better than most, as her focus under extreme conditions, her steady and measured hand, and steel determination kept her from mishandling a firearm. It was the psychological component that hindered her. Solae's empathy and compassion made it exponentially harder for her to reconcile the choice between saving herself at the expense of another or allowing herself to suffer a potentially mortal injury.

To Rene’s surprise, the act of sharing food with the Syshin seemed to do more to reassure the aliens of their benefactors good intentions than even the rescue had done. Whether this was an effect of Syshin cultural norms or something to do with their recent slavery was impossible to judge. Things settled into a routine over the next several days. Rene instructed others in the use of small arms, though in truth the range was too short to be of much use for rifles. Neither the Syshin or Rosaria had much natural talent for the business and their improvement was slow. Solae began to teach them the basics of Syshi, though judging from the expressions Yarue and Dasin made when they tried to pronounce the silabant sounds they were as unimpressed with the human’s progress as Rene was with their marksmanship. Even Solae frequently concealed a smile when Rene’s lack of tonal control radically changed the meaning of a word.

The two nobles discussed their plans in private after the arbitrary ships night began. Talking over points and sharing their frustrations between bouts of lovemaking in their cabin. Most pleasant were the discussions in which they talked of what the future might look like after the rebellion was put down. Those discussions inevitably assumed they both survived and that they emerged victorious, big variables by anyone's accounting, but they were human after all. The Empress’ largess had changed things radically for both of them and though Rene’s status remained somewhat uncertain, he couldn’t help but hope that he would be a more suitable mate for Solae after the dust settled. He knew that she didn’t care if he was nothing but a common soldier and, perhaps selfishly, he accepted that sacrifice if it meant they could be together, but he didn’t want to condemn her to a lifetime of sneers and innuendo that such a match would bring. Always the discussions worked themselves around to the same point. They just didn’t have enough information to know that would happen.

“Completion,” Rene announced as the Bonaventure’s jump drives cut out, the familiar starfield solidifying in front of the main viewport. Ranal Pandi was the closest Kalderi system to the human territory of the Eastern Cross, but even so it had been a considerable reach for the jump drives. Rene’s console showed yellow warning lights, indicating that the MacMillan count was well above the safe range, though not yet into the red. Almost immediately the number began to tick downward as exposure to the stable super-quantum universe began to normalize the effects of the jump. Yarue and Dasin had proven to be a considerable asset over the past few days, performing considerable maintenance on the ship. Neither of them were engineers, but both had more hands on experience with starships than Rene did and they were much better able to understand the instructions Mia provided.

Ranal Pindi was a spectacular system. A bright white star orbited a black hole at the systems center. Streamers of burning gas millions of miles long flowed from the star to its hungry neighbor like a celestial ribbon dance. The blackhole would eventually devour the star, though the timescale was so long that there would be little noticeable effect for the next billion years. The system had a half dozen planets, several gas giants and a pair of terrestrial worlds. One of the rocky worlds was uninhabitable, its proximity to the sun bathing it in radiation levels that would be lethal to Humans or Kalderi in a matter of moments, even if the temperatures, regularly close to 800 centigrade, wouldn’t have flash ignited their flesh. The second world was Ranal Pindi itself, temperate and well within the habitable range for humans though the air was somewhat drier than would have been ideal. There were no records to show whether it was naturally occurring or if the Kalderi had terraformed it but the biota was decidedly alien to human norms. Human traders were not permitted on Ranal Pindi itself, but one of the moons was reserved for what limited exchanges were made. Even there the human accessible sector was rather rigidly controlled by the Kalderi.

“They are hailing us,” Rene announced as his communications board lit up. There were only two vessels other than the Bonaventure on the sensors. A pair of Kalderi warships that orbited the planet, each one about a hundred thousand miles above the planet’s poles. The Bonaventure’s optics weren’t good enough to provide good imagery at this range, but Mia was able to sharpen the images considerably as well as to use stock footage of other Kalderi ships to fill in the blanks. Although of a size, neither ship bore much resemblance to the other. They were both of a tonnage that was somewhere between a destroyer and a cruiser in human terms, though their shining gold plated hulls and jewel like protrusions ended any closer comparison than that.

“I am patching them through Duchess,” Rene announced formally to Solae before mouthing the words ‘good luck’ and activating the comm circuit.

"You have entered a Kalderi system without approval," a sharp voice announced once the hailing was patched through to their speakers. There was no visual but Solae need not ask why; the timbre was sufficiently unfriendly she could surmise they were not welcome enough to deserve a 'face-to-face' greeting over the respective vessel systems. Despite the hostility of the voice it was strangely lyrical, syllables dancing on invisible musical bars, emphasizing the simple statement with an auditory intonation that was foreign to every tongue the linguist had mastered over the years. They were being addressed in common yet it was spoken unlike she had ever heard before. Were she to hazard a guess it would be that the Kalderi had a different vocal range, and much like the Syshin could hiss or make sounds their human counterparts could not, and that it added a unique color to their articulations.

"I apologize," the duchess replied smoothly. "We did not know the protocol. Would it be possible to be granted a meeting to speak with a representative of the Kalderi people?" She purposefully withheld the reason for their visit. Experience had taught her it was better to let them make the wrong assumption so that the truth of their intentions was shed in a more positive light when revealed. If all went well, these first steps of diplomacy would be studied and reviewed for years to come, every word scrutinized to determine what she did well, what she did adequately, and what she did poorly. The notion of being history made Solae blanche slightly; even if she intended to make it, she did not relish being in the limelight, and had no ambitions towards power other than helping to bright about social justice and understanding.

"The Kalderi have no interest in trading with your merchants today," the other voice declared dismissively, clearly expecting this to be the end of the conversation. "You will depart the system once your ship is capable of leaving," it went to further warn. The idle warships possessed sophisticated technology and could, at a glance, sweep the cooling Bonaventure and discern the vessel was incapable of immediately engaging its jump drive.

"We did not bring wares to sell. My name is Duchess Falia, and I have my attache and fiance, Rene Quentain with me, my handmaiden Rosaria, and my two bodyguards, Yarue and Dasin with me. I've come in hopes to learn of your people, to speak with you about the relationship between the Kalderi and the Stellar Empire, and to rest. We are not looking for coin or weapons," she added thoughtfully, trying to create a distance between herself and the humans they typically dealt with on any regular basis.

"You wish to learn of the Kalderi?" the voice asked skeptically and incredulously. This was an exceedingly abnormal request. In the history of the Kalderi, they could count one hand the number of times a human had shown such interest. There was an implicit high risk with little reward for citizens of the empire. The Kalderi could kill anyone who came into their territory with impunity, had no incentive to accommodate humanity, and had made it clear the secrets to their advanced civilization would never be disclosed to an inferior species. Only a individual of pure curiosity, with no ulterior motives to hide, with resources enough to make the journey, with the courage to approach, with a keen intellect to comprehend, and with humility to accept it was not wisdom to which they were entitled could have done such a thing.

Solae was the fourth to seek the Kalderi with such an entreaty, and the first of those to allege outright she was not interested in their armaments. More remarkably, however, she was the first human they had seen in the company of Syshin given appointment and referred to by name. There was a prolonged silence as a hush fell over the respective communication systems. The freighter's crew glanced at once another nervously, afraid to broadcast anything, apprehensive about how their plea had been received.

"Prepare to be boarded to confirm what you say is true," a new, deeper Kalderi voice told them as a jeweled spacecraft slowly glided forwarded. An unusual situation necessitated an equally unusual response. The 'aliens' had deemed the best course of action was to determine the voracity of Solae's assertions by observing their 'guests' in the flesh before allowing them passage to the moon. They doubted that Yarue and Dasin were there of their own volition but recognized they could not pass final judgment via message transmissions. Body language and behavior must be observed to deduce if they had been enslaved. If there was the slightest hint of violence, deception, or an antagonism, it was also the cleanest way for the Kalderi to dispatch of the wayward interlopers.

"I understand. We open our hatch once you are docked," the aristocrat confirmed calmly. Inwardly she was panicked, wondering if she had led innocents astray, and dooming them all. There was no other choice. They had to prove themselves before they could or would be trusted; still, the Kalderi were more of a threat to than Duke Tan, as the latter could not vaporize nearly as efficiently nor without consequence.

“Well the didn’t shoot us,” Rene said positively. Rosaria arched an eyebrow at him, considerable concern on her face.

“That was a possibility,” she asked glancing back and forth between Rene and Solae as if to spot the jest. Rene chuckled.

“When you are doing something no one has ever done, almost anything is a possibility,” he admitted. Solae smiled tightly, though she appreciated the humor the situation had to be beyond stressful for her.

“Alright, well we can’t do much about the Bonaventure looking like a clapped out tramp, but lets get into our visiting clothes,” Rene instructed. Over the past several days they had decided that their best option was to make their first contact as formal as they could. The Rosette that Solae carried was a perfectly valid diplomatic credential, one that even the Kalderi should respect, but like many such tokens, the real trick was reaching someone in sufficient authority to appreciate it.

Rosaria went with Solae, ostensibly to help her dress, though that was part of a handmaiden’s duties Rene suspected that Solae would be doing most of the assisting in this case. There was a limited amount of time to train and like anything the duties of a handmaiden took years to master, and the very best never stopped improving. There was as much art to helping dress an aristocrat as there was to poisoning an opponent, and you were much less likely to be embarrassed in the second case. For his own part Rene dressed in the formal uniform that Ten had provided for him. He couldn’t imagine where the crimelord had sourced the garment but it seemed regulation perfect. A dress jacket of matte black with metallic piping had been neatly tailored to fit him. It bore no decorations or campaign ribbons but it had the dagger crossing Capella insignia of the infantry to either side of his collar in silver enamel. The eppalets bore the five pointed stars of a colonel, backed with black agate to denote his lieutenant-colonel rank, they were replaced with a silver plate if he were ever promoted to full colonelcy. Although he had no decorations to claim, although he supposed he could technically claim a bleeding heart for being wounded, and there would eventually be a New Concordia ribbon, Ten had provided him with one piece of decoration. It was customary for officers of noble backgrounds to wear the sigil of their house at formal occasions. Although the military was in theory no political scions of the nobility took pride in their heritage, and it had the practical effect of signalling to others any possible political entanglements that might best be avoided. Rene opened his hand to look at the badge Ten had provided. It was a stylized golden eagle backed by the ringed planet of Capella in white gold. The traditional crest of the Du Quentain family. Wearing it was certainly questionably and potentially illegal as despite the Empress’ promotion he didn’t have a legal claim to the name anymore. Rene pinned the emblem to his right collar flash, he supposed the Empress or his father could have him shot at some future point if they disagreed. Once he and Solae were officially married, the crest would be quartered against the Falia crest. Rene momentarily wished that were already the case, but there was enough that was unorthodox about his relationship with Solae already. She deserved to do that part of things properly at least. The remainder of the uniform was a white set of dress trousers with a crimson stripe down the side seams bloused over boots of polished black leather. He was entitled to wear a sword sash of crimson as well, but after discussions with Solae he had decided to forgo it. Lord Armond’s sword would have been appropriate in Imperial society, but culturally they didn’t know what the Kalderi would make of it, and the presence of such a weapon might undermine the claim that they had no interest in Kalderi armaments. He did wear a sidearm in a holster of black leather on his left side but in keeping with diplomatic tradition it had been bound closed with an elaborate knot of gold thread, meant to symbolize that though the bearer had a right to bear arms, they came in peace. Rene didn’t think the knot would stop him from drawing the weapon in a pinch, but, as with everything, appearance was more important than reality.

With his uniform in place Rene headed from the back of the ship towards the hold, careful to avoid brushing anything that would dirty the pristine white trousers. He raked his hands through his short hair, wishing he had time to cut it though it probably made him look more decorative than a buzz cut would have done. He glanced at his tablet as he entered the hold, making sure that the projected rendezvous was still fifteen minutes away, giving him time to help the Syshin with their livery in the event they had any difficulty.

It was easier and more practical to get Rosaria in her dress before Solae tackled her own. The handmaiden-in-training did not have experience with courtly finery for formal affairs. As a result, the duchess helped her step into the glimmering soft grey ensemble that Ten had provided tailored for the teenager's use. Protocol dictated that a handmaiden was to look refined and elegant, but their adornments should not steal attention from those they served, and thus the design was more plain than it would have been if she was of higher station. The criminal mastermind had also been careful to select something with sleeves to conceal healing injuries and scars. Draped silk was more snug around her torso and upper arms, flowing from her elbows to her wrists, and from her waist to the floor. Fabric was gathered around the right shoulder and crossed to the opposite side's hip for visual interest. A noble familiar with the subtleties of fashion would know that this was meant to be a nod to the fact a handmaiden was the 'right hand' of her mistress.

The newly appointed duchess wore the Falia family colors, a deep, cerulean blue, that edged on the color of a night sky or the depths of the ocean, and a glimmering, pale gold, which mimicked the treasured unnatural hair color they had cultivated through genetic manipulation. Her gown was a jeweled dark sapphire with a fitted bodice and modest neckline, the sleeves of which were semi-sheer. All of the edges of the garment were decorated with aureate crystals that glittered when they were under any form of illumination. There was a great deal more latitude given to women than men when they were trying to passively assert their title in an appropriate setting. So long as they were faithful to the two tones appointed to them they could take liberties, but it was a faux pas to expose cleavage or scandalous amounts of skin. The skirt of the gown swept the floor with a short train that could be carried if need. Personally Solae preferred a more adventurous style, and specifically sought out dresses that were at the knee in the front and to the ankle in the back, as it was a dramatic effect she admired, but she wanted to be conservative with the Kalderi until she knew their levels of tolerance.

Upon her breast she pinned the emblem of the Falia family line, a fox-like creature who sat turned towards its observer, its tail a bursting star behind it, all of which was on the deep blue background she now honored. The points on the star used to correlate to the number of generations back their ancestry could be traced, but modern technology had shed so much light on history that it was no longer pragmatically possible to do so. One of Solae's great grandfathers had settled on the number ten arbitrarily since it was used as a base for units of measurement. There had been some in-fighting centuries ago to make additional changes, but tradition had won out against aesthetic innovation, and so the crest remained untouched. As she stared at her reflection after affixing the pin to her chest she realized that she had the power now to revise it completely if she wished. Her cousins could object, of course, but the moment she was elevated to duchess she was conveyed an unalienable right to rule over her relatives with every whim. The empress might have already passed this news to them down the proper channels. How they would react to her newfound prestige she did not know.

"Let's go," Solae told Rosaria with a smile as she slipped into her shoes and started towards the door.

"What about the jewelry?" Rosaria inquired, pointing to a locked metallic box of necklaces and a comb tiara that had been packed with her things. At first she opened her mouth to reply that she only wore the tiara with Rene in the evenings, with a sort of playful role-play, but she remembered her audience before a single word fell from her lips. Even if she and the youth had been close companions and of similar ages, she did not think she would ever want to share what she enjoyed in the privacy of the bedroom with her fiance.

"I don't want to appear to imperious," she said as she regained her mental composure. "We are asking them for favor, for understanding, for help. If I adorn myself with too many trinkets I might undermine my asserted humility and they get the wrong impression, turning us away because they think I seek riches. This should be enough, but not too much," Solae murmured, trying to convince herself more than the adolescent. "Let's see how Rene, Yarue, and Dasin are doing. The Kalderi will be here soon."

As she strode out to the hold she was still brushing her hair. Much as she would like to do an elaborate up-do, her hair had grown long enough that this would take more time than they had at present before their 'guests' arrived, and there was no one who could assist her well enough to execute the tight braids and bindings required. The best she could manage was to tie it back above the neck, twisting it upon itself once before securing it with a lacquered clip painted with an iridescent glaze design portraying a nebula. It was not as exact a match to her gown as she had hoped, but it did not clash nor look terribly out of place.

"Are you ready?" she asked, giving Rene a chaste kiss before withdrawing to take in his regalia. "Did I ever tell you how fond I am of a man in uniform?" Solae teased albeit not insincerely.

Rene mouthed the word ‘wow’ at Solae in her formal wear, tipping her a wink. None could deny that the duchess looked stunning. The Stellar Empire had clearly lost a first class fashion critic when Ten had decided to embark on a life of crime. Yarue and Dasin looked a trifle uncomfortable in their livery though Rene hoped that was only their lack of familiarity with the clothing. Solae had taken some pains to explain to the Syshin that armsmen were no more servants than soldiers were, and that as member of Solae’s household they had rights and privileges which were to be honored even up to the level of the Imperial Court. Without such explanations it might be easy to imagine that they had merely traded on condition of servitude for another. That certainly wasn’t true, in Solae’s mind or in reality, as they Syshin were free to leave Solae’s service if they wished to do so.

“The Kalderi vessel is initiating docking,” Mia whispered with breathless excitement. Rene frowned slightly. He didn’t know if Kalderi used AI or how they would react to Mia’s quirks but he resisted the urge to tell the computer to stay quiet. That was Solae’s domain after all and it wasn't his place to step in. The hull plating thrummed momentarily as thrust reflected off the hull of the Bonaventure. Rosaria stiffened but managed to relax when she realised none of the others had reacted. There was metallic clang on the airlock, though not nearly so loud as Rene had expected. After a moment the telltale above the lock went green, indicating there was a pressurised atmosphere on the other side.

“The Kalderi request that we open the airlock,” Mia reported. Solae nodded and the airlock opened, a slight outrush of air lifting dust particles as the wind rushed into the unequal atmospheres. To Rene surprise he wasn’t looking into the airlock of the Kalderi ship, instead a series of hexagon frames connected by some sort of semi translucent fabric. The tunnel formed an umbilicus linking the two vessels and providing a pathway between them. Though clearly high quality numerous patchs showed that the tube got considerable usage. Rene wondered what set of circumstances had led to the practice. Like Solae, he would later be expected to convey everything he saw of Kalderi military practice in debriefings. This might be the closest a living human had ever come to one of their warships, even if it was a relatively small one.

The door at the end of the umbilicus opened and a pair of figures stepped into the walkway. They were each about six feet tall and seemed somewhat slender compared to humans of a similar height. Both wore what looked to be something between a vacuum rig and a suit of armor. Bands of some kind of golden material, probably a synthetic or a guilding given that the creatures could still walk, were slotted together in an overlapping pattern that gave them a decidedly serpentine appearance. Intricate calligraphy covered the panels further, though if it was language, insignia, or merely decoration Rene had no way to know. They didn’t appear to be carrying any weapons but the didn’t preclude the possibility that they had some kind of integral armament. The floor of the umbilicus wobbled as they strode across in quick skittering bounds. The tunnel didn’t have any grav plates so they leaped from frame to frame in a series of long graceful bounds. It ought to have been possible to traverse the umbilicus in a single long weightless flight but Rene supposed this method allowed them the luxury of reacting to changing conditions.

The two armored aliens reached the airlock and stepped into the grav field of the Bonaventure with a ringing clang of metal on metal, proving that the suits were heavier than Rene would have wanted to carry around. Both figures reached up and touched controls on their helmets. Their polarized faceplates cleared to reveal their faces. The were longer skulled then humans, with flesh the golden brown color of polished copper. They were fine boned and sported two sets of nostrils one above the other with thin dark lips. Their eyes were larger in proportion to humans, giving the impression of innocent wonder that was doubtless a complete misreading. Rene had seen holos of Kalderi before, but usually they covered their faces and the old archival footage didn’t fully prepare him for the reality of meeting the aliens. He cleared his throat.

“Greetings Honored Friends,” Rene began, using the words Solae had instructed. The words had been picked carefully. Formal but not to formal at best these were officers of a minor war ship and the Solae couldn’t embarrass herself by seeming to fawn before them. Similarly, it was important that they didn't feel insulted and throw up barriers. Rene supposed there were as many different factors to consider when plotting an assault or defusing a bomb but at least those he understood. On a human warship there were elaborate rituals to be observed when ships crews met like this, but without any information they had to keep it simple.

“May I present to you, Her Grace, Duchess Solae Falia, Ruler of the Eastern Cross and Imperial Envoy to the Kalderi people.”