A Candle in the Darkness (Closed)

[Aerion]

[OOC: CLOSED, NARRATIVE, RATED R]


Palace District
Astevane
Grand Empire of Aerion

Astevane, that most ancient capital of Aerion, buzzed with all the glory of a city of over two hundred million residents. The megalopolis now swallowed the protected plains that had once surrounded it, nearly a hundred miles of a densely packed urban environment stretched out to the distant mountains. Only spots of green indicating wealthy areas, the tops of wealthy arcologies, and parks interrupted the urban landscape. Thousands of gleaming skyscrapers stretched into the sky with crisscrossing roadways up to 50 to 100 floors high layered over each other. Dozens of massive arcologies dotted the skyline. In areas, the city had taken on the geography of urban canyons, and the ground itself could not be seen. The highest skyscraper in the city remained the gleaming Imperial Financial Tower, 400 floors high, towering over the Financial District into the clouds. Constant streams of cars on the roadways and VTOL craft on the skyways created veins of light in the night stretching throughout the city. Hundreds of other aircraft crisscrossed the skies. Imperial City may have been the new capital of Aerion, but Astevane remained the beating heart of the Grand Empire.

Like an oasis of calm, the darker Palace District and Garden District remained in the center of the city undisturbed by the growth around it. The gleaming lights of the city surrounded this darker, more subtly twinkling center. It was approximately ten miles to cross the Palace District, and a barrier zone with restricted building laws stretching out five more miles to create an island of low urban growth surrounded by limitless growth. VTOL craft were not permitted to fly over the Palace District except by special dispensation, and so one crossing the sky indicated one of the most powerful members of society. At the center of the Palace District, illuminated by floodlights like a glowing jewel in a museum, was the historic Wasterin Palace, which was a palace three times the size of Versailles or the Hofburg in Vienna.

The Wasterin Palace, formerly the Imperial Palace, was like a ghost of times past since the capital had moved to Imperial City and the seat of the Imperial Family to the new Imperial Palace. Most of the windows were shuttered or curtained and darkened. Entire wings of the Palace were closed. Where there were once the sounds of numerous raucous parties and celebrations, the sound of owls hooting and nightingales chirping could be heard in the gardens and courtyards of the Westerin Palace. These outside sounds were occasionally interspersed by the low hum of a flying security drone, sprinkler system, and gardening system robots, or the marching footsteps of a lone Wasterin Palace Guard given what was called the most boring and despised duty in the Imperial Guard. The lowest scoring soldiers of the Imperial Guard Academy or those who had angered a courtier often ended up at the Wasterin Palace.

The inside of the Palace was even more dark and ghostly. Hundreds of rooms were closed, furniture covered in protectant covers, and doors locked. The sound of cleaning robots could occasionally be heard in the closed wings, but not much else. Two wings of the Palace were kept open. The Grand Wing was kept open as a museum for specially cleared visitors, and one of the east wings was kept open with apartments for distant cousins of the Imperial Family who were still maintained but not loved by the Padshah Empress. Occasionally, a member of the Imperial Aerionian Court would be "exiled" here for angering the Padshah Empress. These were apartments of a few rooms, each where private parties were sometimes held. Parties could be occasionally held in the Grand Wing by dispensation from the Imperial Palace, but these were rarely approved. The Imperial Aerionian Court had never permanently returned to the Wasterin Palace since the relocation to Imperial City. Even a new Summer Palace had been built.

One of the former hunting lodges in the gardens, which in and of itself was a small palace, was used by the Sisterhood of Abeshala as their provincial headquarters chapterhouse and residence of the Matron Provincial Superior.

It was from this former hunting lodge that a small squat elderly lady walked. She wore the black garb of a Sister of Abeshala. She also wore the headdresses of a Grand Matron Superior with indigo lappets down the front hanging from this headdress with the waxing crescent moon, a full moon, and the waning crescent moon depicted on each appet. This would accord her the respect to leave the Provincial Chapterhouse, and walk where she would like at any time of the night though it may rouse some suspicion.

It was nearly midnight, but it was not uncommon for various individuals to take moonlit walks in the Imperial Garden at night. Occasionally Sisters of Abeshala may walk to visit the three moonlit grotto shrines of Abeshala or other shrines of the deities in the Palace Gardens. They might even perform ceremonies there on the full moon. Their faces and passes were registered to the scanners of the security drones, and an elderly Sister of Abeshala would not set arouse suspicion of the Wasterin Palace Guards. This sister's destination tonight might arouse suspicion though.

The elderly Grand Matron Superior Roanshella made her way rather nimbly for an old woman through a hedge maze, across several lines of trees, and toward one of the closed wings of the Wasterin Palace. She stayed away from the floodlights and walked in one of the shadowed corners down some steps toward a low squat side door that had once been used by servants. She had secured one of the all-areas passes reserved for specialists, visiting members of the Imperial Family, and other rare visitors to visit the closed wings. She still felt guilty for the way she had done so. One of the Novices attached as an attendant to the Provincial Chapterhouse was having a romantic affair with one of the higher ranking Wasterin Palace Guards, and she had obtained the rare security pass for Roanshella.

Grand Matron Superior Roanshella had a written map with directions, as it was too risky to carry a surveilled digital pad. She swiped the pad, and the old though now automated door creaked open. Her brown eyes squinted from narrow ruddy eyes.

As she passed into the darkness of a delivery area for the kitchens of this wing, she was struck by how clean it still was. The hum of a small squat circular cleaning robot could be heard nearby. She passed it by and proceeded through the kitchens that had not seen service for some time.

As she walked, her way was illuminated by automatically sensing LED lights along the floor. These lights made her nervous as she felt she was watched, but she had hoped the novice had also secured her other need. For the security cameras in this part of the wing to be disabled due to a 'glitch.' The Wasterin Palace Guard would ignore this glitch as they often secured such areas for romantic liaisons with each other or their misters or mistresses or even late-night parties with opiates.

She did not believe in phantasms, but the dark cold of the servant passageways under the western wing of the Palace certainly sent a chill down her spine. She was also alone with no security and with the cameras off. Twice strange men were arrested who had lived under the Palace in closed-off hidden passageways that had never been updated with modern technology. They were said to be the descendants of palace servants who had never left but had grown crazed in the dark. She stilled herself with meditative repose, deep breaths as she was trained to do, and walked through the dark. She pulled out her LED flashlight as several of the lights were out in the passageway she turned down. She looked at her map perplexed.

She walked down several servant passageways and finally came to a stairway up.

She stepped up the side servant stairs, came out in an apartment, and emerged into one of the glamorous halls of the Palace. Interspersed candelabras with LED flames came on in low intensity and illuminated the gleaming marble floors. She was slightly off in reading the map and heaved a sigh. Her elderly body ached. She stepped toward one of the grand staircases covered in blue velvet carpet and ascended it to the second floor. She was looking for one of the private apartments of a Great Officer of State. One who had kept records on the Imperial Family.

There was the sound of a shutting door in the distance. She shook startled and grabbed at her amulet at her chest. Then she saw it was only a cleaning robot. The automated doors made it possible for the cleaning robots to move in and out of rooms.

She looked at a golden coat of arms on large polished wooden doors. The coat of arms was that of the family that held the office she was looking for. She waved her security pass, and the door did not open. She grabbed the handle. Locked. She gasped. The lock had not even been upgraded. No one had been in this room for some time. She peeped down at the old lock and looked both ways for any robots or anything with a camera. Nothing was around. She knelt down, took off her headdress, and took bobby pins out of her hair. All Sisters in the Sisterhood of Abeshala were taught with special training, and that included the ancient art of lock picking.

She started picking the lock, and it sprang forth. She looked suspiciously each way down the palatial hall. She returned the headdress to her head and arose. The door opened with a creak.

As she entered, she was stunned by the dust and cobwebs covering the room even though the furniture was covered with sheets in the old fashioned style. No cleaning robot had been in here. She shined her flashlight over the room. It was the apartment of an official with one sitting room, one-bedroom, and a study to the side. She stepped through to the study and shut the door behind her. Everything was covered in sheets. She knew what she was looking for, though. The floor creaked beneath as she stepped over to a wall covered by a large though fairly common woven tapestry of an idyllic scene of wolves and the deities of Aerion in the sky. She pulled the tapestry aside and began tapping her hand on the wall. She looked and felt. The wallpaper was loose in one part. She tore at it and saw the outline on the wall. She pulled a ribbon, and the door opened to a safe. She knew the combination which she had pulled from deep within the archives of the Sisterhood.

She opened it and pulled out an old wooden chest. Inside were written texts, letters, and a sealed letter written by King Wasterin X himself.

She opened one of the letters, looking through it with gleaming eyes. She gasped audibly. It was true. King Wasterin X had a son with a mistress who he had secretly married. This man's son or grandson, not the Padshah Empress, may have more claim to the Crown than the Padshah Empress. The sealed letter was proof and was the King's secret proclamation proclaiming this line. She trembled with anticipation. There was an alternative to the tyrant Empress. Now the question was this hidden heir still alive, and could he stay alive if a plot were put into motion.

[Aerion]

Sisterhood of Abeshala Provincial Chapterhouse
Wasterin Palace
Astevane
Grand Empire of Aerion


The sizeable stately mansion that was the former Royal Hunting Lodge on the grounds of the Wasterin Palace in Astevane was quiet as the sun rose in the morning except for the particularly devout Sisters of Abeshala who had arisen early to say their early morning prayers alone or together in the chapel. The sun rose over the elaborate gardens of the Wasterin Palace, and the birds tweeted. Wasterin Palace had awakened for the morning, but the massive megapolis of Astevane around it had never gone to sleep.

It was by the favor of Imperial patronage that the Sisterhood of Abeshala had gained the mansion that was the former Royal Hunting Lodge as their Provincial Chapterhouse and headquarters of their operations in the province. The Sisterhood of Abeshala was enjoying a resurgence, and it was thanks to the Padshah Empress.

At some point in Aerionian history, the Sisterhood of Abeshala, which had emerged from a mystery cult of initiatory priestesshoods, had been influenced by the Makan Buddhist monastics and Catholic orders. Buddhist & even Catholic nuns had occasionally converted to the Sisterhood of Abeshala and had brought their customs with them. Matron Superior General Shulahala was a Makan Buddhist nun who had converted to the Sisterhood of Abeshala and was credited with converting the Sisterhood of Abeshala from a mystery initiatory cult of priestesses to a more organized religious community with abbeys in the style of a Buddhist sangha. The Sisterhood of Abeshala had taken a completely different route from the Ladies of Abeshala, the temple priestess prostitutes who had become the courtesans of Aerion though some suspected the Sisterhood of Abeshala and the Ladies of Abeshala still worked together.

At that point, the Sisterhood of Abeshala began to move toward a formalized hierarchy, and fortified abbeys of the Sisterhood of Abeshala appeared in remote places of Aerion in the early medieval ages. Matron Superior General Claire the Rulemaker was a Catholic abbess who had converted her entire abbey to the Sisterhood of Abeshala and was later was elected Matron Superior of the Sisterhood. She had established the Rule of Claire, and from there the Sisterhood of Abeshala began to more resemble an organized religious order through with secular agendas. Later, Matrons emphasized education, and thus most Sisters held a graduate degree or Ph.D. as the Sisterhood even established universities.

The Sisterhood had waned over the centuries with the secularization of Aerion, especially under oppressive regimes who had taken over their properties and universities but had enjoyed a recent upsurge under the patronage of the Padshah Empress.

The novices had begun preparing breakfast for the Sisters, and curtains were opened in the palatial setting. Grand Matron Superior Roanshella awakened, her heart beating hard. She had not slept well which was not suitable for a woman her age. It had been three days since she had hidden the documents she had gathered from that closed room in the Wasterin Palace, and she had walked past their hiding place daily to check it. She had made it out without drawing the suspicion of the Wasterin Guard but was now indebted to the novice who was sleeping with the officer of the Guard. She had also gained vital information about where the Palace grounds were the least surveilled. She had used a mechanical camera in the old style of Polaroids to take photos of the documents, especially the parts that pertained to the line, and she now carried those pictures with her in a sealed envelope

Today was the day she thought. For she was not alone in this plot and had not been guided without assistance. Other Sisters had conspired with her, but she had an even more powerful ally, the Imperial Advisor Duke Zaerey Azar. He was charged with the area of Astevane, trusted by the Padshah Empress herself for the supervision of the Aerionian megacorporations and the Imperial Representatives on the boards of those corporations. If they were found out, it would mean certain death and would shake the Sisterhood of Abeshala as well as the balance of power in Imperial politics.

Today she was to meet Duke Azar in the most unlikely part of the gardens, a bench near the Grotto of the goddess of dreams, mysteries, and the occult Rabeshala, that was known by some to be outside of the shot of any surveillance equipment and where a waterfall masked the noise of conversation. It was appropriate as Rabeshala was also the goddess of secrets, and sometimes thought to be the dark or shadow side of Abeshala.

She feared the man, did not trust him, and did not understand how they could possibly share the same agenda through the other plotting Sisters had told her to trust him.

Duke Azar’s Palace
Garden District
Astevane

Imperial Advisor Zaerey Azar had earned a reputation as one of the most effective but feared Imperial Advisors, those powerful figures in the Imperial Government who were as to ministers without portfolio but ever more powerful, and who were seen as the hands or fists of the Padshah Empress. Their responsibilities blurred those of the interests of the Crown and of the Imperial Government though both were fused in the autocracy of the Padshah Empress. Duke Azar’s responsibilities particularly blurred this role as he was responsible for some of the private economic interests of the Padshah Empress, surveillance of the financial sector, and even some black operations of the Imperial Government.

Duke Zaerey Azar had risen through the ranks of the Imperial Security Agency to the rank of Senior Commandant and had been known for his ruthlessness though also intelligent cunning there. His record was supposedly from the Directorate of Internal Affairs, but he was thought to have been in the infamous though supposedly nonexistent Ninth Directorate responsible for black operations. He had earned the nickname of the Padshah Empress’s “Shadow,” and that shadow was cast over Astevane. Thus Imperial Advisor Azar was more powerful than the Imperial Governor of the province who answered to him on a regular basis and also supervised the Imperial Representatives who were the personal representatives of the Crown for the Crown’s ownership stake in Aerion’s megacorporations. He also sat on several boards himself.

Thus it was with great freedom that Zaerey Azar moved through the corridors of power, and thus why his participation in this plot would not be suspected. He was also one of the shadiest, feared, and dangerous of the Imperial Advisors. The Padshah Empress trusted him implicitly, and he had always exceeded all expectations. Chief Imperial Advisor Duke Dr. Kassvar was the respectable front of the Padshah Empress for the Imperial Government compared to Imperial Advisor Zaerey Azar, who handled many of her private, and shady interests. He was often called the Gloved Fist or the Dagger of the Padshah Empress.

Duke Zaerey Azar awoke in his palace about a kilometer from the Wasterin Palace in his palatial bedroom with two of his mistresses, one 18 and the other one who appeared 16 but whose identity documents stated 18. He was a balding Eastern Aerionian man in his late forties with black hair cut into a military-style haircut, a medium build, and green eyes. He was surprisingly built for the elite. He had risen through the ranks of the Imperial Security Agency (ISA) and remained fit from his training there.

His eyes were bloodshot from his old favorite of cocaine. Last night he had held a wild bacchanalian party for various young corporate executives of Aerion’s megacorporations in Astevane, courtesy of the Imperial Crown. Everything they desired was there from drugs to men and women to dominatrixes or dominators who would do whatever they desired. They thought they were enjoying the finest the Crown had to offer, but they were also being filmed with compromising videos that could be sent to their wives to destroy their families. Embarrassing videos that could be broadcast to the world.

Of course, the Padshah Empress could just threaten them or have them or their children murdered or disappeared by the Ninth Directorate of the Imperial Security Agency or hired assassins if she wanted though that was messy. It was the preference of the Padhsha Empress to have compliant puppets in the megacorporations. If these surveilled parties did not do them in then the Directorate of Surveillance of the Imperial Security Agency (ISA), the secret police of the Grand Empire, would have other compromising material on them as well. There were films of some of them even killing people at points in their lives.

Duke Azar’s palace was one of the largest in the Garden District and rivaled that of any of the megacorporate CEOs nearby. Forty bedrooms, fifty-five bathrooms, two pools, gardens, a 50 car garage, servant’s quarters, and more. Then there was his country estate outside of Astevane and his vacation villa in the Rashier Islands. He also had a penthouse in the Financial District of Astevane, but he primarily used that for meetings.

Yet he was not happy. He was a man under pressure.

Duke Azar awoke, prepared himself in his shower with a mistress whom he had slapped for her poor lovemaking. His mistress had begged him not to kill her, and he had laughed in her face stating he was not a savage low-class like the traffickers she had come from. He liked his mistresses from the bottom rather than the refined courtesans that some of the influential men of Aerion enjoyed.

His servants had then helped him dress in his black court uniform with golden epaulettes in his dressing room. He wore his trademark shining black boots instead of the standard shoes. He was known to have an exemption to the protocol of court uniform with this holder from his Imperial Security Agency days. He left the palatial halls of his palace to head toward the even more palatial halls of the Wasterin Palace. He stepped out onto a helipad outside his palace. Four Imperial Guard followed him as he walked onto his VTOL aircraft. They shut the door.

He looked out the windows of his sleek metallic luxury Adinas Star – Takares Aerospace luxury VTOL craft as it lifted off, looking over the green of the Garden District and the massive palace at the center. Beyond could be seen the gleaming thousands of skyscrapers of the Astevane skyline as if they were a forest of massive trees as skyscrapers surrounding the Garden District. Out there, millions of Aerionians were living their lives. Most of them lived oppressed surveilled lives of misery as the elite floated above them. They were weak and deserved it, Duke Azar thought.

He had two primary tasks this morning. To inform a cousin of the Padshah Empress in the Imperial Family that his Imperial allowance was to be reduced, and to attempt to have a secret meeting with a Sister of Abeshala. The second gave even the hardened Duke Azar anxiety. He was captive to a plot that even he could not control and a web that he had tangled himself in.

The gleaming silver VTOL craft raced through the sky and was shortly landing on a helipad at the Wasterin Palace.


Wasterin Palace Gardens
Astevane
Grand Empire of Aerion


Duke Azar’s VTOL craft landed at the Wasterin Palace. It was now mid-morning. The gleaming white marble of the Wasterin Palace contrasted with the gleaming steel in the far distance, but the gleaming steel of the skyscrapers of the megapolis was beyond eyesight here.

He would have to find a way to distract his Imperial Guard, and have an excuse to wander the gardens alone. He would also have to give up his comms tablet, which he accidentally left in the VTOL craft. He was sometimes known for private walks, but usually at his country estate or villa. They would follow his orders, but he suspected one of his Imperial Guards was also an informant to the Imperial Security Agency’s Directorate of Internal Affairs.

The Padshah Empress would be furious for the ISA spying on her trusted Imperial Advisor, but he knew how the ISA worked. They sometimes even went beyond the Padshah Empress’s directives to preserve her power and the New Aerionian Order, and they trusted no one except her. Many ISA officers were fanatics. Little would they know they had reason to be suspicious.

Duke Zaerey Azar stepped off of his craft onto the serene grounds of the Wasterin Palace. An honor guard of the Wasterin Palace Guard greeted him. He walked past them, saluted, and waved them off with a gesture.

The Imperial Guard assigned to Duke Azar glanced at the Wasterin Palace Guard smugly. Duke Azar was glad for the distraction. The Imperial Guard assigned to Duke Azar all looked stately, the ultimate chiseled Aerionian male Adonis with chiseled jawlines and cut physiques. They had the appearance of the Imperial Guard, who served in the Imperial Palace at Imperial events. The Wasterin Palace Guard was part of the Imperial Guard, but it was clear they were considered inferior by the arrogance displayed toward the less prestigious Wasterin Palace Guard unit by the Imperial Guard assigned to Duke Azar.

Duke Azar ignored the subtle tensions between the Imperial Guards and began walking toward the Wasterin Palace. He looked to the left and the right. The wooded walking path with elegantly arrayed trees along a canal he needed to follow was to the left, and he began walking down that way toward the gardens he sought. Water lilies floated in the canal and ponds.

His Imperial Guard dutifully followed him. He raised his gloved hand, “I want a private walk.” The senior-most Imperial Guard Lieutenant looked at him, “Now sir?” Duke Azar wondered if he was his assigned informant to the ISA. Duke Azar frowned, speaking in the cold voice he had given to those under interrogation and subordinates, “Now, and you can march in that direction.” He pointed toward a long avenue that led away from the Wasterin Palace. The Imperial Guard Lieutenant saluted, “Yes sir,” though he looked questioning.

Duke Azar walked at a leisurely place down the walkway, glancing at the canal, and acting as if he were on a leisurely walk. He disappeared into the rose gardens to the side and began walking through the more labyrinthine rose gardens toward the Grotto of Rabeshala, which was surrounded by roses of different genus and moonflowers. He saw the figure of one of the old crones sitting on a bench in her indigo headdress, which marked her as a Grand Matron Superior. He stepped over to the bench. The sound of the waterfall coming from an artificial stream over the entrance to the grotto drowned the area in its sound.

Grand Matron Superior Roanshella looked at Duke Azar skeptically as he sat down. Duke Azar cleared his throat, “Let’s cut to the chase, Reverend Mother, shall we. Do you have the materials?” Grand Matron Superior Raonshelle pulled the envelope of polaroids out of her robes. She handed the envelope with a shaking hand to Duke Azar. The chirping of birds and the waterfall could be heard.

Duke Azar opened the envelope and looked at the polaroids. He looked through them. “What the fuck is this?”

The old lady cleared her throat and used her training to calm herself. “They are pictures of the evidence you seek. My fellow plotting Sisters are not ready to give you the evidence," she stated plainly.

Duke Azar spoke in a low tone, “Listen here, you old witch. I have had it with you and your Sisters. We had a deal. I provided you with the information and location of the documents. You were to bring them to me and await further instruction. I want to know if the Matron Superior General is in on this plot.”

“We don’t trust you yet. Go speak to your master. Tell him the counsel of my Sisters. We want more supervision in this plot. We are both biting the hand that feeds us, and we still don’t know why you are in this plot. The Matron Superior General is not in this plot, but I can assure you some of the highest Sisters are,” Roanshella replied.

Duke Azar leaned in toward the woman, grabbing her hand roughly. He squeezed it. “Listen you old witch. I will have the ISA murder every last one of your Sisters and burn down your chapterhouses.”

Roanshella used her training to ignore the pain, and Duke Azar finally let up. She rubbed her hand. She looked at Duke Azar, “Not if we kill you first.”

Duke Azar clenched his teeth as he resisted the urge to murder the Grand Matron Superior then and there, but he knew the Sisterhood had their ways of retaliating and had the ear of the Padshah Empress. He wished he could turn her in himself to her superiors, but he was too entangled in the plot.

He tucked the envelope in his court uniform jacket. They had meant to keep this meeting for under five minutes. He glanced over, and the hat of a Wasterin Palace Guard could be seen walking in the gardens nearby. He looked at her and spoke in a low rough tone, “Tell your Sister guides they are making a grave mistake. They will hear from Z.” He scowled at her and arose. He walked out of the rose gardens back toward the Wasterin Palace.

Grand Matron Superior Roanshella breathed a sigh of relief and walked toward the Grotto of Rabeshela. She looked into the waterfall and said a prayer to this face of Abeshala to protect their secrets and impart to her a dream of guidance.

[Aerion]

Financial District
Astevane
Grand Empire of Aerion

It was evening a few days after the encounter with Grand Matron Superior Roanshelle. The thought of the witches still left a bitter taste in Duke Azar’s mouth. He did not trust the Sisterhood of Abeshala, and especially this traitorous faction. They were superstitious fools but had the Padshah Empress’s patronage. If only he could turn them in and blame them all. Though he could not.

The sunset beyond the thousands of skyscrapers of Astevane. Duke Azar’s VTOL skycraft cruised through the crowded evening skies escorted by two single Imperial Gendarmerie armed VTOL skycraft with their lights flashing. Onboard the luxury skycraft were four of his more trusted Imperial Guard. He had ordered the Imperial Guard Lance Sergeant over his Imperial Guard squad to rotate out three of his less trusted Imperial Guard with some excuse.

The VTOL skycraft cruised now through the Financial District between the glittering glass and steel skyscrapers with hundreds of floors towering into the sky. The Imperial Financial Tower spired over them all at five hundred floors. The pilots steered the craft carefully toward a massive ziggurat style skyscraper that emerged from a large base. They awaited for clearance to land and received it. The landing pad with blinking lights emerged from approximately nearly the two hundredth floor from an arched support bridge, and the pilots had to exercise special skill to land. It had just started raining on the landing pad. His personal assistant valet, a skinny young Eastern Aerionian man who he had carried with him into the position of Imperial Advisor, accompanied him holding a large black umbrella.

The young Imperial Guard Corporal looked out of the descending stairs. Duke Azar held up his black gloved hand, “I won’t need you to accompany me, Corporal.” The young corporal looked skeptical, “But sir?” Duke Azar repeated, “Wait here, Corporal.” The young Imperial Guard corporal nodded. Duke Azar walked across the landing pad toward the sliding doors flanked by black-uniformed corporate security forces. A young attractive Eastern Aerionian woman in a short black skirt and black suit jacket waited just in front of the sliding doors in front of the awning. Her black hair was pinned in an attractive way, and she wore a lapel pin that also served as a communications device to her boss. “Welcome to Black Sky Capital, Your Grace, Mr. Kada-Urtzi, is waiting for you in his office.”

Duke Azar nodded and did a hand signal of dismissal toward his young valet. The young Eastern Aerionian man looked questioningly through his green eyes but obeyed the hand signal better than the Imperial Guard Corporal.

Through the sliding doors was a massive white marble atrium or of marble coverage. Inlaid into the floor was the eponymous Black Sky with its black rays extending out in shining obsidian.

Black Sky Capital was an Aerionian hedge fund worth tens of billions of dollars and had managed to survive through multiple governments without nationalization, Imperial buyout or acquisition, which was a rare feat for an Aerionian hedge fund. They had almost as many investments as the Crown, and likely far more than the Crown globally. Started by the enterprising Taxhilan family called Kada-Urtzi as a mercantile bank with deep roots in Orshile, Black Sky Capital had grown to be the largest hedge fund in Aerion with tens of billions of direct and managed assets. It was now under the control of CEO Count Kaspar Kada-Urtzi, an enigmatic billionaire known for keeping the relatively lowest profile as one can as a billionaire. He may be seen in the society pages but was nowhere near a household name in Aerion outside of the Grand Empire’s elite and aristocracy.

The young Eastern Aerionian woman led Duke Azar toward the sleek lift which they entered, and it ascended even higher into the skyscraper, which served as the headquarters for Black Sky Capital and several other directly held subsidiary companies or funds. The family office of the Taxilhan was also here in this tower as the family had several millionaires.

The lift stopped at yet another atrium, which was at the end of a long polished black marble hall lined by white marble statutes in Greco-Roman style of the CEOs of Black Sky Capital. Thin waterfalls of water fell down the polished walls into basins behind the statute. At the end of the hall was a curved reception area with one plain shining black receptionist desk. Flanking the room were more black-uniformed corporate security. Double sliding metallic doors sat behind the receptionist's desk.

The young Eastern Aerionian receptionist paused to smile at the other Eastern Aerionian woman in a rather fake smile as the double doors opened, and the assistant gestured him into the grand office.

The office was massive and spanned the size of nearly two basketball courts. The floors were polished white marble with black waves at angles inlaid within it trimmed in gold. The walls and ceiling were a contrasting black marble speckled with gold. One large modernist style chandelier of red crystals hung from the ceiling though inlaid LED lighting provided most of the light in the room. Massive windows looked out over the cityscape of Astevane outside through which could be seen the twinkling lights of nearby skyscrapers. Fine paintings lined the wall as if in a museum, and antiquities that may have been illegally purchased were setup in fine enclosed glass display cases. A lot of the art on the wall was either modern art or landscape paintings. The Black Sky Foundation was known to fund art galleries and museums. Count Kaspar Kada-Urtzi was known as a great patron of the arts in the elite art world.

There was a fully intact statue of a seated king in the style of those found near the pyramids of the priest-kings of Zrepzunia as one of the primary pieces in this collection, and numerous other pieces either atop pedestals or inside of glass cases. There was a glittering emerald scarab in one case inlaid with precious stones for eyes. Inside one case was an ancient clay statue of Kada-Urtzi, the Taxilhan skygod namesake of the family. One glittering Crown inside a case particularly caught the interest of Duke Azar, but he continued to pass the pieces toward the massive desk at the opposite end of the room.


Count Kaspar Kada-Urtzi sat in a simple black Mandarin collared business suit at a large carved black desk with a large window behind him gazing over the skyline of the Grand Empire’s largest city of Atevane. He was a middle-aged man with the basque features of the Taxilhans though he wore his black hair in a ponytail. He wore a slick goatee. He wore the miniature badge on a ribbon on his left chest of a Grand Knight of the Most Noble and Most Ancient Order of the White Wolf.

He did not greet an Imperial Advisor in the typical way one would. He stood and stared arrogantly at the man as he entered. He stated bluntly, “Let us go to the….tea room.”

Count Kaspar approached a portrait on the wall and pressed a hidden button. A portion of the wall slid aside and revealed a specially sealed room within which was a glass box in the center with two chairs and a table. The walls were covered in black padding decoratively styled in velvet. The floors were strangely illuminated tiles, and the glass box was well lit.

There was a clear X-ray detector that one walked through entering the room with lasers that swept over the two men. As Duke Azar followed him, he examined the screen on the wall and pressed a button on it to also sweep the room as well as their own bodies for bugs. To the side was a door that led into a corridor that led to a panic room, which also contained a self-powered elevator to Count Kaspar’s bunker panic room deep below the skyscraper, but this was his room for subtle conversations.

Count Kaspar entered the soundproof glass box, slid the door shut, and gestured for Duke Azar to sit. There was a screen built into the table.

Duke Azar almost growled but sat down. He gripped his hand as if he were already expectantly angry.

Count Kaspar looked the Duke in the eye, “So. Did you get the package?”

Duke Azar shook his head, “No. The Sisters don’t trust me yet, nor do they trust you. They gave me photographs of the evidence.”

Count Kaspar stared daggers at the Duke. He clenched his teeth.

“I told you to get me the evidence, or our plot cannot move forward," Count Kaspar murmured.

“You cannot plot Count Kaspar. I told you if you had allowed me….," Duke Azar growled.

“Shut up.” The billionaire cut him off. “I told you to get me evidence that b*tch Empress is not legitimate.”

“I have photos of the evidence, but where do you think this gets us. Her…” He gulped as he was used to referring to her properly, “She does not care about the line of succession nor does most of the Imperial Aerionian Court. They owe everything to her. She established this Grand Empire," Duke Azar replied angrily,

The billionaire let out a cold laugh. “Ahh, you underestimate me. We are going to kill that b*itch and half of her supporters.”

Duke Azar bolted up. “You traitorous dog. You are going to get us all killed. You are more insane than I thought,” he yelled. His muscular figure towered over Count Kaspar.

Count Kaspar stood and appeared unphased. He pressed a button on the screen, and it reverted to a strange sight. Four screens were showing different angles of a child’s bedroom. There was a young girl playing with toys on the floor.

Duke Azar looked down and was caught off guard. He reached his hand, unconsciously. “Parvaneh,” he mumbled.

Count Kasper gazed arrogantly. “I have your only known daughter. You have no clue where. You know what happens if you don’t do what I say.” He pressed another button. A large hulking figure wearing all black entered the room.

Duke Azar slammed his fist into the table and cracked it. “You son of a b*tch. Taxilhan scum. I should choke you with my bare hands here and now," he yelled.

“Now Duke Azar. You know I have a pulse chip. As soon as my heart goes dead, so does your daughter,” Count Kasper responded calmly, The billionaire had what many of the wealthy and powerful in the Grand Empire had. A pulse chip measuring the pulse of their heart along with other health chips which could send transmissions to a panic button alerting their staff.

Duke Azar stood breathing heavily as he calmed himself. It was the one way he had lost his power and his sovereignty. All of the power he possessed, and even the best former ISA agents to find his daughter could not find her. Count Kasper had deeply encrypted it all and used his most trusted staff. He thought she was probably across the world somewhere. Some of those who had been tortured by Duke Azar would say he had it coming, but every man had a weak spot despite his ruthlessness.

Count Kasper hit a button to clear the screen. “Don’t worry. She has a tutor, and is receiving the best of care.”

“If any of your men so much as lay a finger on my….," Duke Azar growled.

Count Kasper shook his head. “What do you think we are. Savages?”

Duke Azar responded to calm himself. “What do you want me to do. The Sisters in our plot want to know who you are. They do not trust me.”

Count Kasper took a seat, steepling his hands. “I have other backchannels to the Sisters. I will take care of it since you seem so inept. Continue the rest of the plan, as we discussed. I will never know how you rose to your rank and status.”

“By killing a lot of men just like you,"Duke Azar responded coldly.

Count Kasper gestured dismissively, “Get out.” He pressed a button opening the door. His receptionist was waiting outside with two bulky Epheronian security guards dressed in all black corporate security uniforms who rivaled the size of Duke Azar. Duke Azar stepped out and scowled at the CEO behind him.

As soon as the door slid shut, Count Kasper let out a sigh of relief and adjusted his collar. Between them, he knew Duke Azar had the higher body count and had participated or commanded the torture of hundreds as part of his ISA career according to the leaked ISA file Count Kasper had among other items in Azar’s dossier.

If Duke Azar stepped out of line, Count Kasper knew he would have to have him killed and find a place to send his daughter. Probably one of the Aerionian courtesan houses. It was only fitting. He had enough money to bribe anyone to do almost anything.

[Excalbia]

Imperial City, Grand Empire of Aerion

The Excalbian Imperial Embassy in Aerionian capital was not particularly large, certainly not as large as those in the Caldan Union or Knootoss, nor was it as small as some, such as those in Providencia or Mont de la Lune. It was a rather quiet, business-like post. Relations between the two empires had never been either particularly warm or particularly adversarial; rather they were proper, correct and somewhat stiffly formal. Nonetheless, there was a fair amount of commercial relations between the two and a number of Excalbians visited Aerion - and tended to need considerable consular support given the great differences in the two societies’ cultures and laws.

Given the normally prosaic nature of the Excalbian Mission to the Grand Empire, it came as something of a surprise when codeword captioned messages began coming in from the Citadel. Unusual activity had been detected by satellite and routine hypersonic overflights, and a Citadel already shaken by an impending civil war in Snefaldia suddenly had an urgent need to know what was going on in the upper reaches of Aeronian state.

Naturally, the Imperial Intelligence station within the Embassy had its own methods - knowing and unwitting agents, and various technical means - to try to answer the Citadel’s questions. However, the nature of Aeronian society, not to mention its own advanced technology and somewhat obsessive security procedures, limited the success those methods enjoyed. This left the tried-and-true method of working contacts as the Embassy’s best tool for gaining the information the Citadel wanted.

All of this led Gordon Bertans, the Embassy’s Political and Economic Counselor, to a well-known, high-end coffee shop in the Imperial City’s Entertainment District. It was the favorite of one Bertans’ key contacts - an old friend he had first met during his first overseas assignment as a Vice Consul in the Embassy’ consular section. He met his friend and contact, then a mid-level Aeronian bureaucrat, at a diplomatic reception where they discovered a similar taste in music. When Bertans returned later as a mid-level political officer, his friend had risen to the top ranks in the Aeronian bureaucracy, and had become a useful contact. Now, this individual was a senior official within the bureaucracy; well positioned to know - as they say - where the bodies are buried. His contact might not know exactly what might be going to alarm the Citadel, but he was sure his friend would know if something was going on - and would hopefully point him to someone who might know even more.

So, Bertans slowly sipped his coffee waiting for a “chance” encounter with his contact and the opportunity to offer a “spur-of-the-moment” invitation to come and listen to some new music at his home in the Embassy District.

[Aerion]

The posh coffee shop was nestled amongst art galleries, five-star restaurants, hotels, and high-end stores. There was even a botanical garden nearby. This was the section of the Entertainment District catering to a higher wealth clientele. The coffee shop featured white marble countertops, polished obsidian walls with Art Deco style golden wall fixtures of goddesses holding lamps, and curved velvet couches. High resolution digital screens displayed art as well as the menus. It was 8 Aerionian Gold Leaves for the cheapest cup of coffee, and yet there was still a line of customers in designer clothing.

Many of the shop's wealthy patrons wore formal attire with bow-ties, vests, three-piece suits, and dresses in muted colors. Black was popular. It reminded one of 1920s British & American attire except there were modernist pieces as well as patterns and elements of high fashion. Some of the women wore elaborate stylish hats and fascinators. Ostentatious jewelry was visible on some patrons. Some patrons wore stylish smart glasses or single or double lenses with scrolling information on the lenses. Many patrons were on seemingly impossibly thin phones and digital tablets that were made to bend. Phones unfolded into tablets. The shop, it's patrons, and the surroundings were examples of the ostentatious lifestyles of the elite in the Grand Empire which contrasted sharply with that of the common person.

The high-ranking bureaucrat walked into the coffee shop. Firuz Leravan. He was a lanky Eastern Aerionian man with a proper goatee, stylish glasses, and French cut black business suit. He was in his early forties. He was now the Chief of Staff to the Assistant Deputy Minister of Operations in the Ministry of the Interior.

Firuz walked up to the marble counter to order his drink.

[Excalbia]

Gordon Bertrans noticed Leravan as soon as he entered the coffee shop but did not give any indication that he did. The Political and Economic Counselor returned his attention to the book lying open beside his coffee, being careful to track the Aeronian’s progress in making his order.

Just as Leravan was finished placing his order, Bertrans looked up and seemed to notice the other man for the first time. He left his coffee and his book and approached the Aeronian.

In a nod to Aeronian fashion, Bertrans wore a brown three-piece suit. His glasses, however, were simple prescription lens; the Embassy did not prevent unauthorized electronic devices in sensitive areas, so smart glasses were simply not an option for a man in his position. He approached Leravan with a smile.

“Firuz,” he said loudly enough to be heard over the background noise, but not loudly enough to attract attention, “how nice to run into you.” He gestured to his table nearby. “Would you care to join me?”

[Aerion]

Firuz Leravan stepped over to where Gordon Bertrans was sitting. He extended his hand to shake it, and then after presumably shaking hands, he took a seat. He crossed one leg over another. He seemed rather relaxed, but it seemed to be a false state masking something more.

A young man wearing a dark burgundy paramilitary-style uniform with hat stepped into the shop. He was about sixteen. The uniform resembled that of an officer's uniform with a peaked cap. The uniform was the uniform of an officer within the Imperial Organization for Aerionian Glory (IOAG) Youth Corps. More of these young men and women in uniform could be seen lately as the youth of all classes flocked to the IOAG Youth Corps for opportunity. They were indoctrinated into reverence for the Padshah Empress, and into the unique views of the Imperial Organization for Aerionian Glory, that spoke of the greatness of Aerion and autocracy.

[Excalbia]

Bertrans gave Leravan’s hand a hearty shake and smiled as the Aeronian took his seat. “It’s so nice to see you. It’s been… what? A couple of months at least? Too long.”

The diplomat sipped his coffee, making a mental note that something seemed just slightly… off about his old friend. He also noted the young IOAG Youth Corps member strutting in and wondered at the possible connection. Filing that thought away for later, he leaned back in his chair.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’ve heard the newest album from the Gunnlaugs Trio.” He waved his hand in the air. “I know it’s been available for streaming for a couple of months now, but - as you well know - other than a live performance there’s nothing like old-fashioned vinyl. I finally received the record in the pouch the other day and I was thinking I should share it with someone who would appreciate it.”

He paused for a moment, then continued. “Are you free this weekend?”

[Aerion]

Leravan looked around the cafe. He responded calmly, "That sounds delightful. I have not heard their album on vinyl yet. Of course. I am free this weekend. I can come over for a visit?" He knew what the visit would likely entail and hoped that the Excalbians would sweep for the various types of bugs and devices used by the Grand Empire.

[Excalbia]

"This weekend would be perfect," Bertrans said with a smile. "Let me know what time works best and I'll have everything ready."