Syrenrei

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

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.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"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."

The Betrothed

"You could have rejected her more firmly," she pointed out when he laughed, pinched her cheek, and called her jealous. What she said was factually true. His reception of Anelle had been cold but not as brutal as the former farmer would have liked- it had clearly been ambiguous enough that the other woman clung to the hope of reigniting the relationship she held prior. Nothing short of devastating the Image Manner with an explicit denial of any potential romance would have placated the princess elect completely. Hearing the redhead be told Luke would discuss their history 'some other time' had been frustrating. That he did not utter the word 'No' when she suggested a bottle of wine had made Rhiane absolutely furious. The fiance she knew could be callous when he elected to be; he did not withhold his verbal punches when they were alone. The more she dwelt upon it the more convinced she was that the highborn lady had been the subject of more special treatment than she, the very woman chosen to bear his children, the commoner who was responsible for elevating his reputation.

If the kiss did not melt away her anger, his acquiescence to her request did. She still believed he was ill prepared for what a sit down with her father and brother would be like. The courts were a dangerous place where being stabbed in the proverbial back was more commonplace than sincerity, but there were harsh truths that Luke was perhaps not ready to face head on, and she would not be able to reign in her family until they had delivered at least a few initial blows. It had not escaped her attention how he avoided discussing certain topics. Luke did not appear to want to carry on a conversation about the untimely death that awaited her, his father, peasant's rights, or the more acute impact the plague had on the peasantry than the nobility, but these were subjects they'd inevitability broach. They'd also demand to know the feelings he had danced around admitting or denying existed. Disaster awaited them.

But Rhiane found it increasingly harder to hold fast to her ire when he was affectionate. The simple gesture had caused a palpable shift in her demeanor. Luke could still ply her compliance with sweets, as she was just as easily bribed as before, but little acts of kindness or fondness were even more effective. The brunette did not have the typical defenses of women her age: she was adept at navigating business matters or avoiding the manipulations of the aristocracy, but when emotions tangled with intimacy she was helpless, and genuine actions proved to more compelling than words. Little did her prince know that with additional investment he could persuade her to greater concessions and compromises than he had yet managed. She would crumble if he approached her with honest romantic overtures.

"Why are you suddenly interested in my life before the castle?" she asked suspiciously. "You hated that farm tour. We'll both be miserable visiting my home town," she added with a sigh as she moved back towards the sofa with a resigned expression. Much as she would love to make the plane turn around, she realized that they were too close to cancel, and the arrangements could not be voided on a whim. "My father and brother will be hostile, my home will not meet any of your standards, agriculture on a smaller scale is not something you enjoy, and I can't imagine you'll want to visit my favorite bar or meet my neighbors. This flies in the face of what your mother wants, doesn't it? To abandon my background and assimilate myself into the castle? To defer to what you prefer?"

She didn't need his acknowledgment to know that it did. It made Rhiane uncomfortable to be exposing these vulnerable bits about herself even for him. They had arguments aplenty spurred on by the unspoken truth that she did not fit the mold cast by her predecessors, how she did not have the qualities of his prior lovers, how her childhood in poverty was a blemish upon her person in his eyes. "If this is really what you want," she conceded, "as long as you know that given the choice between being trapped in that SUV on the side of the mountain or going home, I'm not sure I'd pick the latter. Just keep that wretched woman away from me." None of his platitudes would warm her to the interloper's appearance. "And promise me when I'm gone you won't marry her. Practically draping herself all over you while pretending she gives a damn about portraying us as an adoring couple. I hope she trips and falls and impales herself on her stupid shoes," she grumbled discontentedly.

He wasn't wrong when he called her jealous. Rhiane remained perturbed, not in the least because she knew that she would be dead within a decade, give or take a few years, when her best reproductive years were behind her and her 'services' had been concluded. Any sons or daughters she bore would be raised by another woman. Luke's bed would be occupied by someone other than herself. There were parts of the future over which she had no control, but an assurance that the second bride would not be someone she loathed, who taunted her with coy games, and made what time she had left slightly more miserable, was the best she could ask for with her circumstances.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

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.

The Betrothed

Rhiane wholly and completely ignored the interloper- or at least convincingly acted as if she were. She was quite aware that Anelle was provoking her through her flirtations with Luke. The other woman was staking her claim, proving that they had a history, and veritably taunting the former farmer with the past, present, and implied future. It was up to the crown prince to rebuke the so-called Image Manager. When he failed to do so to the princess elect's satisfaction, she tried to drown them out with intense focus on the article displayed on her screen. Words of adulation swam in front of her eyes but so did certain questions buried in paragraphs of praise. Sentences calling attention to the fact the betrothed couple failed to show any genuine affection in public struck her like daggers to the heart.

It was growing harder and harder to ignore the comparisons. She had known when she joined the contest that had bedded all the most attractive and eligible female aristocrats. What she had failed to anticipate was developing sincere feelings for him. Now that she had, she could have easily put aside his sordid affairs, had one not reappeared in their shared cabin and arranged for a date. What was even more humiliating was that she knew whatever time she had spent with him eclipsed the days she had enjoyed Luke's attentions. There were undoubtedly more pictures circulated by the media of her fiance and any of his prior conquests embracing than the two of them. Anelle was not herself the problem. Rhiane could blame no one but herself for forming an attachment with someone who treated her entire gender like disposable toys.

The brunette continued to fixate on her perusing of the news even when she was directly addressed. She gave no indication she heard Anelle when she prattled on about making a list. Rhiane had no intention of complying with such a request. Her hometown was an unexpected and unwelcome stop, she already loathed the person who was trying to give her directions for their itinerary, and she balked at the notion of disclosing such personal secrets to anyone. There was no motivation for her to be obedient. No reward awaited her at the end of this adventure, and it would inevitably open painful wounds as they retraced the steps of her childhood.

Only after the intruder left and Luke wandered over did she rip her gaze from her reading. Rhiane was seething. She had been silently fuming and trying to contain her ire for several long minutes by the time he tried to initiate conversation. The heir to the throne produced the box with the personal device she recognized as having purposefully left behind in the villa in the wake of another another argument. Luke tried to succinctly explain himself and, she guessed, appeal to her through this expensive present. Under other circumstances it would have worked. Lingering post-coital bliss would have made her twice as delighted that he was delivering a gift that nearly matched something he already owned himself.

"Going to my hometown is a horrible mistake, outmatched only by the idea of having our first meeting with my family broadcast," she told him with a bitter edge to her voice. "They won't care that it's being recorded and will be brutally honest. Every detail of this arrangement that the courts and reporters are too polite to discuss, perhaps out of fear of your mother, they will unabashedly discuss. Luke, I have the best temper between myself, my brother, and my father. They will call the stipend blood money, they will quiz you on what happened to my predecessors, the other prince and princesses elect, they will try to find any avenue to criticize a relationship they are already convinced is fake. Perhaps with some privacy I could defend this engagement, but how will I do that with your other future wife in our entourage? How do you expect me to possibly visit my mother's grave when I..."

She stood up restlessly and paced as she chewed the inside of her check anxiously. The more she dwelt on it the more certain she was that the meeting would be explosive. Ideally she would scream at the other two surviving members of the Black lineage, they would yell back, and afterwards they would be calm enough to find a way to endure the situation with their strong bonds of love. "When I left home to come to the capital we had a fight before I walked out the front door that would make ours look like friendly banter," she sighed, running a hand through her damp hair.

"No, no, absolutely not, I am not going to do a tour of my hometown. If you and that red-haired witch want to frolic through the fields you can be my guest," she declared as she almost vibrated with overt jealousy. "You can decide on what specific locations to visit over some wine, coordinate your performances, maybe even see if she can fit in that absolutely ridiculous dress that I was given to wear around the village." The green-eyed monster envy had started to consume the princess elect and make her even more rebellious than previously. Her threats were not entirely idle. Queen Camilla's leverage had lessened once the rebellion had made it apparent that they had the funds to provide financial security to the Black family members. That, and a recent infatuation with Luke, had been the two figurative carrots they could dangle to keep her loyal to the cause.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

After what felt like an eternity of waiting filled with tension, there was a knock at the door. Solae let out a sigh of relief that echoed through her communicator as she summoned her courage and answered the door. Two guards stood in front of the taller and larger Syshin that they were allegedly protecting her from. The duchess in disguise stood aside silently to give all four admittance to the suite. One guard swept the room as a precautionary measure. He did not expect a lady looking for a romp with two aliens to be packing any weaponry; rather, he was combing the quarters to make certain there was no person whom had not paid hiding or items that might become improvised weapons to the slaves in question. They had to safeguard their property and income stream. The second of the two hired thugs delivered a monotone disclosure of what was allowed (nearly everything), what was not allowed (permanent harm and disfigurement), and the protocol for if she felt if she was in imminent danger. No matter how docile the pair of the males she had ordered seemed, they had superior strength to the lady wanting their services, thus the guards were responsible for protecting their customer if something went awry.

Truthfully Solae paid little attention to what they had to say. She nodded when appropriate, gave her verbal confirmation she understood their instructions, and ushered them out of the room as soon as it was pragmatically possible. No one so much as raised a brow at this. The guards had their share of overeager women impatient about shoving them out of the door, either because they were excited to get started or because they were haughty socialites that didn't care to be in the presence of, much listen to, someone of a lower station. If anything, her aloof behavior and desire to get them to exit further sold the ruse.

As she spun around to confront the two Syshin she found them standing together near the bed about to shuffle off some of the furs they were wearing. For a second she was so horrified at them undressing that she forgot how to speak. Of course they thought this was what they were supposed to do since every other appointment of this nature began with them being nude. "Wait- please," she managed, "that won't be necessary." This first sentence was spoken fluently in the tongue of the Syshin, but it was chased with mumbling to herself in the common imperial language. "How ridiculous. The Syshin wear woven fabrics, not furs."

It was hard to say what stunned the Syshin more: that she didn't want them to disrobe, that she used the word 'please,' that she spoke in Syshin, or that she knew enough about their culture to appreciate how inappropriate their outfits were. The one she recognized as 138 stared at her dumbfounded but afraid to ask any offensive questions. The braver of the two, 427, scrutinized her for several long seconds.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked in a rumbling voice deeper than most of his brethren she had encountered before. He was gruff but, given a history of wanton abuse, she would have been surprised if he had perfect manners. Rather than taking the liberty of assuming his leasor's intentions he waited directions.

"I want to apologize and ask for your help," Solae said in Syshin. There was a pervasive silence as 138 and 427 exchanged glances and looked wildly uncomfortable at this unraveling situation. They were still apprehensive that this was some sort of role play, but the respectful way in which she spoke and her humble body language was beginning to plant seeds of doubt that this was even remotely sexual in nature. No one had ever spoken their language much less offered apologies and requested help. Had they been human they might have pinched themselves to assure they were not immersed in a bizarre dreamscape.

"Our help?" asked 138 tentatively. "We don't understand..." he drifted off.

They watched with bewilderment and then stupefied expressions as Solae carefully lowered herself to the floor and then to her knees in a universal sign of contrition. The potency of this gesture was not lost on the Syshin. She was vulnerable and prone while they towered over her, the shorter of the pair well above Rene's genetically engineered height, with no apparent way to defend herself except verbally. "I want to apologize for the way you've been treated by humanity thus far. I can't begin to make reparations, but if you'll help me, I'd ask you both to accompany me as bodyguards when I leave Zatis."

"You did not bring us here to... mate?" inquired 138 curiously in a more mild, mellowed tone than his companion.

"No, I already have a mate. I brought you here because your mistress would not willingly allow you to leave and because it is important to me that you chose for yourself whether or not you accept my offer. You would not be slaves like you are to Miss Thorne. You would have your own bed, your own possessions, you would be able to voice your own thoughts, and you could end your employment if you decide you no longer wish to follow me," she explained while remaining in the same position.

"This is a trick from Mistress Thorne," the one called 427 told 138 in agitation. "No human would ever offer us freedom."

"We thought no human would learn our language," the other Syshin pointed out quietly, "and she knows our people do not wear furs, she apologizes, she kneels. Mistress Thorne would never hire someone like this."

After brief contemplation of the facts presented, 427 quickly strode forward and put one large hand around Solae's throat to test her convictions. She did not react. They stood there, the proud Syshin bent over, the duchess still as a statute with her hands at her sides in determination not to show she was violent. The linguist closed her eyes and wondered if her blind trust in strangers might be her undoing but mere seconds crawled by before she was released. 427 had to concede that she had proven her sincerity.

"Why us?" he demanded.

"Because the people after me are humans as well," she confessed solemnly, "and the rewards they are offering to other humans are great. Your people have only ever shown me kindness. I want to prove to the empire that you deserve more rights and recognition than any of you are currently given."

"Why should we believe you?" he asked as he stepped back and crossed his arms.

"If I am lying then you will return to Thorne's pits, but if I'm not, this might be your only chance, your best chance to escape. If you don't want to take the risk then I will leave. If you elect to come with me then we will incapacitate the guards and sneak off Zatis- both of you, myself, my mate, and a young girl that we have also freed from Thorne," she promised.

"I will go," announced 138 as he pushed past 427 and awkwardly lent his hand to Solae to help her stand.

"We will both go," added 427, "and we will see if you tell the truth."

The Betrothed

After a lifetime of waking at dawn to tend to the needs of the farm, when Rhiane finally opened her eyes that morning she was almost ashamed of the hours that exhaustion had claimed, as it felt sinful to have 'overslept.' Fortunately, she had nothing on the schedule until closer to the afternoon. The princess elect dressed herself in a cozy knit sweater, a pair of slacks, and thick wool sockets as she curled up on the chair and poured over all the press coverage of their preceding day. She had become an overnight media sensation. Glowing reviews praised her humility, her robust knowledge about the day-to-day struggles of commoners, her wit when discussing complex matters of agriculture, the warmth with which she received everyone, the manner in which she had an endless stream of compliments regardless of the social stature of her audience.

There was no doubt as to her value to the crown. She might have gloated had she not known that Luke would be disapproving of her making a larger target of herself for the resistance. His apprehensions aside, she had elevated the entire royal family by the display of her charisma and charm, and while the nobility might turn their noses up at her choice of work clothes when designer fashion was at her disposal, there was no denying she had endeared herself to a broad international audience that vastly outnumbered the pretentious aristocracy. An anonymous foreign diplomat was quoted as saying that, "Miss Black showcases all the best that New Rome has to offer and sets a precedent for what other country leaders must aim for if they wish to stand on center stage." Rhiane smiled to herself at the implication she was someone that other kingdoms would envy. There was a heavy responsibility in becoming a role model, but it was nice to have the admiration, to be looked up to rather than down upon.

The medical staff had insisted upon a physical exam once she had been roused from slumber. They first inspected her throat, which they concluded was healed sufficiently that her dietary restrictions were lifted, removed the brace from her arm but cautioned her to not do anything too stressful or taxing, and did an overall wellness check. What no one said aloud was that they knew the betrothed couple were having relations. This put everyone on high alert, especially the royal physicians, that the health of their princess elect was even more important. It was unlikely a single day would result in conception, but they couldn't discount the possibility of a pregnancy in the near future, and their record had to reflect every measure was taken to safeguard the mother and future heir.

All Rhiane cared about was that this meant she could eat her sweet breakfast pastries in peace. It would have been peaceful, that was, had it not been for the intrusion of an unfamiliar female voice. She lifted her gaze from the article she was reading when Luce was mentioned. To hear that she was 'relieved,' a more kind way of saying she was fired, was not the sort of news she had hoped for. The queen must have taken issue with the beginning leg of their tour to have taken such drastic action. The princess elect did not know what specifically had galvanized the decision, but she already disliked the smooth-talking replacement.

In the span of a mere few seconds the good mood brewing in the cabin had been dispelled as Rhiane's disposition soured considerably. Not only was she a reminder that Luke was a playboy that had bedded half of the eligible bachelorettes he crossed paths with, she brought news that would have enraged the former peasant in any situation. "Visiting my home town was not on the itinerary for today," she stated with a cold edge that made her feelings known.

"Please, do not let me interrupt your discussion," she continued, "since it seems it was Luke that you came to see." Rhiane had been quite clear about her genuine affection for the crown prince. While he had reciprocated her attraction, he had not made any grand confessions of actual infatuation, and the appearance of Anelle made her assume the worst. Instead of thinking that he might be coming to care for her as a person, now she doubted all his intentions and motivations, as she was admittedly the only woman available to him with which he could indulge certain urges. Luke knew her better than anyone else on the plane save Tobias, so it was within his capabilities to surmise what internal dialogue might be fueling her cool reception.

If Anelle thought that she might be able to make Rhiane more compliant than Luce, she had quite the uphill battle ahead of her.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"I have a gift of my own for you," Solae said, turning in her chair as she heard the illicit broker enter the room. She knew that Rene disapproved of how broadly she trusted Ten, despite all his help, but given the risky mission she was already undertaking later that evening, she knew that the soldier's frustration would be mitigated so as to focus his emotions on the greater imminent danger. The present of half a million credits probably also helped endear the criminal to the marine. "Before you get too excited, did you find me a new costume?" she inquired as she stood and crossed the study to where he was standing.

"I did," he acknowledged with a brow raised in intrigue. "Since a disguise is to be expected of a lady partaking in the services of male Syshin, I took the liberty of selecting something more adventurous, both to be in-line with what is typical and because I thought you might find it enjoyable." Ten snapped his fingers and one of his house servants rolled in a small display with a long bright blue wig in an unnatural hue, a dress that came to mid-thigh when standing upright and left little to the imagination with its plunging neckline, and a pair of stilettos that would unequivocally seal the image of a woman looking for a certain type of indulgence. It was tasteful despite approaching vulgarity. With a sly smile Ten glanced at Rene as he could only surmise how tortured the man would be to see his fiancee in such an ensemble and with no way to express his appreciation.

"You've outdone yourself!" Solae announced with a bright smile as she moved forward to inspect the rack. Another woman might be offended at the overtly sensual party outfit. She knew that she would not be committing any unforgivable sin that night, though, and so to her it was merely what she called it- a costume- something fun to lighten the weight on her shoulders. She dared not admit aloud that she was more scared of the hotel rendezvous than the embassy. With the embassy she had Rene beside her. His presence imparted a reassurance that no matter if they succeeded or failed they would do it together. At the hotel she would be alone to drug a guard, convince two alien strangers to trust her, and hope that none of them seriously harmed her in the process.

"Are you really going to wear that?" Criesta asked with an incredulous tone. She was beginning to doubt which one in the couple was more odd. To see a duchess so thrilled about attire that made her look like a tramp temporarily distracted her from her patient. Perhaps it was their highly irregular behavior that could be attributed to their successes. Not just anyone, she mentally conceded, could have accomplished as much as they had. One day she many very well see their likeness splashed across imperial advertisements as heroes that turned the tides of war. This was assuming, of course, their recklessness did not get them killed.

"I absolutely am going to wear it," Solae affirmed. "Thank you," she said to Ten before standing on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. Composed though he was, his surprise was still evident. It only doubled as she tugged on his arm, pulled out a small storage device, and pressed it into his palm. It was hard to say what was more perplexing- this undeserving sign of friendly affection or the produced item. Solae and Rene had so little to offer he had sincerely not expected anything in reciprocation.

"That is all the information I found in the Falia vault on the list of names you produced, the ones that work with Ralch," she told him. They had both known what had been provided to him prior had redactions- and he had not blamed them for that. They had held up their end of the bargain in procuring data that was helpful and he had given them the means to exploit it. To have anything more he certainly recognized as a generous gift.

"May I ask why..." he began slowly.

"When we're gone I want to make certain that we left you better off than when we came. There's nothing I can do to guarantee that Thorne and Bhast won't discover you helped us, but this will tip things back in you favor and... well, I can't say I approve of your business, but if someone in Zatis is going to be the one everyone is forced to respect, I'd rather it be you," she said with bluntly with her characteristic kindness.

Ten was silent a moment. To Criesta this was a sign he was deep in though and nothing more, but Solae and Rene, as nobles trained in the arts of the courts, they could see that he was moved by this declaration. The kingpin cleared his throat to shake it off before inclining his head. "Thank you," he said simply.

"I suppose I ought to get changed," Solae said. "Is there any chance the dresses from the other day are among the inclusions you made to our supplies?" she added with a faux innocence.

"Among other things, yes," he confirmed. "It would be a mark upon my hospitality if I did any less," he alleged, though it was more likely he had no use for the women's clothing after Solae was gone. They had been precisely tailored to her measurements. Not only that, he did not entertain female guests regularly as they were not his preference.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

Fortunately for the duchess and her beau, Alayla Thorne was not the sort of woman that bothered herself with personally arranging the 'services' of her male Syshin fighters with those that might desire a sordid distraction. Prostitution was not illegal on Zatis. In the greater Stellar Empire it was outlawed, with discrete individuals frequently circumventing notice or punishment, but it was a criminal enterprise that flourished on the outlying world. As such, it was customary for interested parties to make their requests and pay digitally to minimize overhead, maximize efficiency, and allow the veil of relative anonymity to remain intact.

Connecting to the planetary network brought up a variety of options for private meetings. Once Thorne's offerings were displayed the obstacles they had to overcome became more insignificant. Ten shuffled his funds around on a regular basis and all but a few accounts were untraceable, unattached to his identity, and disposable, as was typical of those in his profession. This left two choices: which two particular Syshin of the ones listed available they wanted to ask for and at which location. Being the shrewd businesswoman she was, Thorne would either send her slaves to a building she owned or a third-party hotel, but anywhere else required her review and approval, something they could not risk.

"Alayla uses numbers for the Syshin," Rosaria helpfully explained as they stared at the portraits. "The women have even numbers and the men have odd numbers."

"She has female Syshin?" Solae asked in mild surprise. The portfolio they were perusing edged on grotesque. There was a picture of each Syshin's face, which was understandable, but there were also images of their bodies clad in nothing but a loincloth, clearly meant to entice lonely souls. The aristocrats had been horrified, of course, but also curious as to why if she had no respect for her underlings why she did not make them pose nude. After a little while it became slightly more apparent that this was done to avoid giving away too much of the "experience" and add to an element of "mystery."

"Private servants," the teenager confirmed, "but not many. She sells most of them to her associates and partners. Alayla doesn't think that they are as good of fighters and they wear down more quickly on the rock hoppers." The reasoning was immoral but not factually wrong. Even with the Syshin, the men were larger, stronger, and more acclimated to hard labour tasks. Keeping the women could also add another layer of complexity if they fell in love with another slave or became pregnant. It was safer for someone in the trade to ferry the gender they did not wish to keep out to others to maintain order with minimal expenses.

"Do you know if any of these," the diplomat asked with a gesture to the screen, "were one of the ones that tried to escape and were recpatured? Or if any of them are more insubordinate than the rest?" One that had already been defiant enough to try to leave once might be more willing to trust in Solae than the rest. Either way it was a gamble, but she wanted to stack things in her favor if at all possible. The more desperate they were the more they would be willing to risk the 'devil' they didn't know rather than the one they did. She had not illusions that was how she would be viewed- just another demon exploiting the gentle race of aliens.

Rosaria looked uncertain for a moment before a number caught her eye. "That one, 427, I've overheard them complaining about him before," she said. It was obvious the youth was reluctant about taking on two bodyguards who harbored resentment for her ex-mistress and had enough muscle mass they could pose a serious risk if anything went awry. It was the duchess's absolute confidence in the Syshin- and her need to get off Zatis by any means necessary- that made her confide this information.

"We'll request 427, then," Solae affirmed before settling on another who looked more downtrodden than the rest and numbered 138. Rosaria was unfamiliar with him, and Rene gently inquired if she was sure, but the overflowing compassion in the linguist made her unable to look the other way. Number 138 might have the most melancholic expression but he was just as physically impressive as his peers.

"I'll schedule for tomorrow night," she declared as she finalized to have 427 and 138 sent to a hotel room that Ten thought was the safest given the other options. They would need time for Solae to don yet another costume, one that would make her unrecognizable for check-in and initial reception, and to prepare the methods of extraction. "Is Criesta still around?"

"Probably, why?" Rene asked with a raised brow.

"I think I have an idea for the guards that doesn't involve shooting," she disclosed. "Ambushing them would be difficult even in the best of circumstances, but we can't rely on a discharge not alerting someone that something is amiss; we should err on the side of caution," she elaborated more for Rosaria's benefit than the soldier. Solae could tell that the girl was disappointed though the recently-liberated protege knew better than to object before listening to the alternative.

"Is Criesta still on the premises?" she asked as she picked up the internal communication device for the compound. Ten had left their company when it became evident that Solae needed more than a few minutes to deliberate over what Syshin she most wanted out of the dozens Thorne owned. He had patience, but it was not endless, and he had things to oversee if he wanted to continue accruing his wealth.

"She is," Ten replied dryly with a hint of concern, "has Rene relapsed or torn open his wound?"

"No no, I need her expertise to help make a compound. Could you have someone connect me to her personal number? It's nothing she needs to be here for, at least not until it's ready for delivery," she told her benefactor calmly. Suspicion veritably radiated through the phone before he let out a sigh of resignation and there was a soft beeping noise to indicate the call was being forwarded.

"Criesta?" she said as soon as she heard it connect. "Is there any chance that you could make Sopor IV if I send you the formula?"

Sopor was a line of sedatives used almost exclusively in warfare and espionage. It could either be administered via ingestion if in a powdered form, which was slower acting and had a shorter duration, but was tasteless and odorless, or a injection could be utilized, which was obviously took effect more quickly, and was more potent, but was instantly discoverable by witnesses and the victim after the fact. It was one of many pharmaceuticals that a tolerance could be built up against, but only the nobility had the time and resources to create an immunity, and it was kept secret from the public this was even a possibility.

Solae did not have complete trust in Rosaria and guns could not be easily smuggled into her Syshin encounter. An injection device could. If they could bring Sopor IV, the newest and best line of the drug, and use that to compromise Thorne's guards, they wouldn't have to kill anyone. Not only that, if the teenager betrayed them in the 11th hour she would find the sedative worthless against the duchess and the colonel, and they would only have the inconvenience of trying to determine how to punish her duplicity.

Star Crossed: The Duke's Rebellion

"They're more technologically advanced than we are, so there is a certain amount of deference given," she began slowly. Working as a diplomat required her to be more thoroughly educated on the history between the human race and other intelligent species in the galaxy than other citizens. There was a plethora of information on the Syshin, as they had been absorbed into the empire due to their subjective inferiority, but when it came to the Kalderi the foot was on the other figurative foot. There was an implicit understanding that the Kalderi, if they were so inclined, could obliterate humanity as handily as they had prior to The Collapse. Even the most pompous noble did not dare to negotiate the sale of precious pieces of art with a hint of arrogance or aggression. They feared the strength of the Kalderi just as they had made the Syshin fear them.

"That being said, while they are distrusting, they are not unreasonable," Solae asserted. "Officially we believe the Jeweled Armada could have continued on its path of destruction but elected not to do so. Merchants report that contact with them is cordial so long as they are fair with their exchanges. I'm confident they will not shoot us down on our approach," she elaborated as that was perhaps the most important point to make, "since they respond to aggression but do not themselves seem to incite it when they have ample opportunity." The buffer zone was maintained by the Kalderi but, when the odd ship drifted too close due to a navigational error or due a malfunction that culminated in loss of piloting functions, they were merely escorted out. Gaining an audience would be trickier, but they were significantly less dangerous to approach for a parley than the coup's forces.

"My theory is that in their eyes humans are an invasive pest that, unprovoked, murdered their colonists. Whatever empress or emperor was on the throne at the time would have swiftly retaliated had the Stellar Empire been the victim instead. There is no incentive for them to bridge an alliance, either. Humanity enslaved the other aliens they came across, which paints a callous picture, one of us as warmongers," the duchess explained. "If we can show them otherwise they might be persuaded to assist. They consume our great works, so they have interest in some of our endeavors, just not all. If we show humility and empathy it will be a side of ourselves that is more palatable. Having two Syshin guards will help prove we're not cut from the same cloth as Duke Tan."

"More selfishly, though, I want to be the one to bridge the gap," she admitted as she closed her eyes and let herself rest a moment. Her mind was still whirling through the images of her studies on the pre-Collapse expansion, but her body was relaxed, and the mattress felt heavenly beneath her back. "No one really tries. We're so self-focused we forget about all the wonders still out there," she added more wistfully, a quiet yearning in her voice. "I want to see what their cities are like, what animals are in their forests, hear their language, talk about what stories they pass down to their children, hear about the traditions of their ancestors, or what common ailments we have. I'd be happy just to have a tour, to shake their hands with a smile, and then leave to do battle against Duke Tan by ourselves. Wouldn't it be amazing to just say we've met them?"

The duchess fell silent but a moment and then gave an impish grin. "Do you think if the Kalderi married us that the empress would be forced to recognize it through any new treaties? We could make it an absolute necessity," she laughed lightly, ever-focused on cementing this union with her fiance. There were worse fixations a woman could have about the most important person in her life. Giving a sigh of resignation she curled up and looked at him more seriously.

"You're not well enough to take on a mission right now, so if we're going to recruit bodyguards before we're forced to leave Zatis, I may have to do this without you," she told him softly. "Rosaria and I won't be able to handle a shoot out no matter what weapons Ten can provide. I might have to... purchase them, or compel someone to let me buy them, as much as I would prefer not to support the business. If we're cheated then we can have a firefight," she suggested, "but not before." Rene would not be pleased with this plan. The duchess and the teenager were not soldiers and having them out of view for any length of time, while engaging in a high risk situation, was bound to make him exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Do you have any criteria for what we should be looking for? Traits that would be more beneficial than others? I trust your judgment more than Rosaria's in selecting someone with the right aptitude. I can gauge their general disposition but I'm less adept at analyzing physical and mental qualities that translate into the best marine material."