Two hours to Waypoint 4-18, and I'm not long out of the bath, drying my feet, when the crime sounds at the door of my captain's suite. That can only be one person, and I flirt with making her wait until I have boots on, but if Mariella has completed the task I set her, she deserves the proper recognition."Well now, that's something I ain't seen for a while", chirps the girl, looking down at my bare feet. "Just for me, or is it a special occasion?"
"That all depends on what you have for me", I answer. "Come in..."
Mariella has at least made an effort to look professional - she's wearing a white hair band, white shirt, a long chocolate brown velvet skirt, slit up to past the knee at the front, and black leather boots, the tops of which remain hidden under the skirt - but I have a little task for her before she can start playing the part of diplomat. I lead her through a side door into a darkened room, where mirrors on the wall cast light here and there, granting the briefest of tantalising glimpses until the door closes, and there is only darkness...
I know the room well enough to traverse it without sight, and without incident, reach the chair at its centre and sit, silently, while Mariella gropes around. "Hey - what's this?", she mumbles. "W...what you for in here...?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?", I suggest. "The Traveller was able to get me a copy of your... specifications..."
"Huh?", murmurs the girl. "Oh - oh yeah...!"
I see a brief flicker of amber in the dark, a hint that Mariella has "got the message". "Oh... wow!", gasps Mariella. "I shoulda guessed...!"
Time for a lesson. Mariella's eyes have been switched to night-vision for only a couple of seconds, but that means she is entirely vulnerable - as I am about to teach her...
A telepathic instruction brings on the lights. Blinded, albeit momentarily, Mariella spits out a profanity, cries out "Kill those goddamn lights!", then her hostility diminishes as she realises what I've just shown her.
"And the lesson is...?", I ask her.
"Just 'cause y'got fancy powers", says Mariella, blinking, "don' mean y'should rely on 'em."
"Indeed", I declare. "My primary power is telepathy, but it can, at times, be entirely ineffective. I've since developed a range of other skills - as you're already aware..."
"Yeah", says Mariella, with a grin that's all too familiar. "I could always dance my way outta trouble, too."
"Again, not exactly what I had in mind, but a valid example, nonetheless", I tell her. She's showing she has a keen, adaptable mind - a trait to be prized, and nurtured - but that streak of rebelliousness needs tempering. "Now, Mariella, before you dazzle me with your findings", I say, glancing to either side of me, at the rails loaded with pair after pair of wonderful, thigh-high boots, "there's something I need from you - I think the pale purple with the jewelled straps over the feet..."
Mariella's shoulders slump. "Yes, Mistress..."
As far as menial tasks go, there are many far worse than helping me into my boots, and it doesn't take Mariella long to realise that this is actually something of an honour. "Nice boots", she says as I slide my foot into the first of my chosen pair. "Got y'self quite a collection. This all you spend your pay on, or d'you get a lotta gifts from admirers?"
"Some bought, some gifts - some a round-about form of sponsorship", I explain. "I used to be a lot more public, I suppose one could say."
I can sense Mariella loading another barrage of well-meaning sarcasm, but she holds fire.. "Public, how?", she asks. "Your job right now... well, it doesn't seem to... fit you, somehow..."
"I used to manage wrestlers", I respond. "Proper, ring-side management."
"Really?", exclaims Mariella, looking up from pulling the boot up my leg. "Cool."
"Indeed it was", I assure her. "It did get a bit tiresome after a while - being involved in running Dominion was a refreshing change. Not so many bootmakers come to me hoping I'll show off their product, however."
"But a change of pace ain't enough, right?", enquires the young woman. "Ya gotta get y'self some excitement, somehow."
"And so, we met."
Mariella smiles, and presents me with the other boot. "And is all this 'diplomacy' really that dull?"
"Not always, I reply, "as we may be about to see. So, what did you discover? Do you foresee anything that could trip up negotiations?"
Mariella had clearly been dreading this, but she certainly gives it a proper try. "The top races in the MDI are the Vilthorians - brainy guys, quite literally - and the Narthani, who're like sorta 'space-Vikings' - they couldn't be more different, but whilst they seem t'compliment each other, someone could still stick a wedge between them, if they tried to make the Narthani seem like the lesser partners. They're all kinda on edge already..."
Good - she's clearly at least attempted to read the material - that whole business with the Vaggtshaersken may have strained internal relations...
"The Dire Queen's a whole different ball-game", continues Mariella. "One leader, three galaxies - an' let me tell you that's kinda hard t'get y'head around.. hat one fact would scare anyone, and if what I read about this 'Pandemonicum' was true, she could look like the other side o'the same coin - one side wants t'conquer you, the other wants t'be y'friend, then conquer you!"
The girl is clearly far smarter than she appears. She could actually have a future in diplomacy - or any field she wants...
"The biggest problem I can see, however, is you..."
...and then she comes out with that. "How so?", I ask, leaning forward over her as she finishes pulling up my other boot.
"S'nothing personal", Mariella explains as she retreats, "but back in the day, you knew The Dire Queen - as Queen Ghydra. The MDI may view that as a reason to suspect you and she might gang up on them, an' they might not be so willin' t'deal."
She's done well - better, in fact, than I'd expected. Three entirely valid points of concern...
"An' then there's rusvarqna", adds Mariella, as she gets up from kneeling at my feet.
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
"The Narthani cultural imperative of men fist, women a distant second", my companion explains. "If you're not a daughter of nobility - an' therefore a prospective wife for a 'noble warrior', y'don't count for shit."
Oh my - she may be on to something. "And you think the Narthani may not think very highly of The Dire Queen, simply on the grounds of gender?"
"I'd watch out for it, just in case", recommends Mariella.
I rise from my seat, sweeping my hair out behind me, tugging my Rytallin silk-leather boots up snugly to my satisfaction. "You done very well", I tell Mariella. "You've given me several things to think about."
"Hey, I just did what y'asked", she replies. "It was a whole bunch more interesting than I thought it'd be."
"Knowledge isn't the whole battle", I warn her. "Presentation is also important - let's see what we can do about that. Oh, and Mariella? Please let's not swear in front of our allies..."
"Disappointin' you sounds like it's the least of our worries", says Mariella, "but I'll do m'best not 'add t'the stress."
A small mercy, but in the spirit of the old saying, I'll thank the powers that be for each and every one that comes our way - and let's hope fortune favours Darkhawk in the same fashion.
"Winter Blossom, this is Summer Breeze... Darkhawk, do we really have to waste time with these stupid code-names?"
"An extra layer of security never hurt anyone", I tell The Hellion as she calls in. "Nice to have you with us - got any news...?"
"I was told where to be, and when", explains my other Mystalornan friend. "I'm waiting on... officials to ensure I'm 'up to code', if you get my meaning."
"Now who's using code-names?", I chuckle.
"Everyone these days, it seems", growls The Hellion. "The 'Pandemonicum' indeed! Not a demon among them..."
"Not even the Darkwraths?"
"Lightweights", my friend spits. "The only reference I ever found in our records indicated that their kingdom was devastated, their power stripped, by a band of mortals, backed by a bunch of Zallah worshippers!"
"I should check with the Zallah people, get the official word on that", I tell my friend. "Anything - even a myth or a wrongly filed report of some kind could be valuable."
"And I could pull some strings, and gain access to some of our less public libraries", says The Hellion. "No guarantees - but if you don't try, you don't get."
"Don't get yourself in any trouble - physical or spiritual", I advise her. "If you feel you should clear anything with a superior..."
"I'll go straight to Myreena", announces The Hellion. "You don't get more 'superior' than that, unless you call upon The Mistress Of Talons herself."
"Guess not" I mumble, it's hard to believe how a rebellious Ealvonhaian girl could just... Soul-Self her way into one of the most powerful positions in civilised space - but then look at me - who quite literally sprang up from nowhere - now I rule my own little universe, and I'm "mother-goddess" to billions...
And while I'm on the subject of looking back, something from my own past occurs to me. "You might want to try and have a chat with The Mistress Of The Scrolls", I suggest to The Hellion. "Mention my name - might open a door or two. One door in particular springs to mind..."
"I heard talk you'd been granted a great honour at one time, not so long ago", my friend replies. "I'd assumed that talk was just childish rumour - but if you had not been granted such an audience, boasting about what had not come to pass would not be looked upon as honourable by those who follow She Who Feeds The Rivers Of Blood..."
The Hellion pauses, then signs off with some haste. "I better go. My associates have arrived - good luck, 'Winter Blossom'. 'Summer Breeze' ending transmission..."
...and so, I'm alone again. Alone, and still quite clueless as to what might be expected of me at the end of my journey. Still, there's plenty of other matters to occupy me. "Open a priority burst channel to Sentinel", I instruct Myromar. "Contact the Embassy, and tell them to send whoever's available to the Zallah temple to ask for everything they have on the Darkwraths. If necessary, our representative is authorised to use my name."
Myromar carries out my order without delay, and an acknowledgement is swiftly received. "My Embassy counterpart has received and relayed the instructions", reports my holographic companion. "Myr'aa finds herself unexpectedly available, and is going to the Temple of Zallah right away."
"She's not with Mane-of-Night?"
"The Station Commander had to leave in a hurry for that meeting with The Dire Queen", says Myromar. "Myr'aa was asleep at the time."
"I trust our dear friend was smart enough to at least take someone else along", I enquire. "We don't want to look weak in front of the MDI, or The Dire Queen."
"Two transferred to Dominion Two before launch", confirms Myromar. "Mane-of-Night, and that da Silva girl. The new addition to the diplomatic roster..."
...but then again, there are perhaps worse things than being under-represented. I just hope my good friend Mane-of-Night knows what she's doing, and that little Mariella not only knows her place, but can hold her tongue, too.
Back to business... "Time to the Jespar system?", I ask Myromar.
"Jespar system - a Class Six planetary system in the Dri'Keres Belt, just east of the Tai-reh'taran-Yituron arterial", confirms Myromar. "Time to system boundary - nine hours eleven minutes."
"Access the astronomical database for the region", I continue. "When is the soonest likelihood of something that could be described as 'the moons of Jespar become one'?"
"The three moons of Jespar V will come into alignment over the eastern tip of the southern lesser continent in thirty three point four hours."
So, it's soon. "Can we scan the area, for signs of anything... unusual?"
"The whole system is prone to electromagnetic storms, so its not easy to image", Myromar replies. "We'll have to get closer before I can attempt a sensor pass."
"Which is probably for the best", I murmur. If Jespar V is the site for the "return", the Imperial Temple might not appreciate anyone scanning it, whether scanner is invited or not... but what if someone else isn't being so cautious?
"Sweep the frequencies for any sign that anyone else nearby is attempting a scan", I ask my companion. "If you read anything, mirror it - if possible - and pass it to me."
I'm not expecting much, but even so, Myromar excels once again. "I have a signal", she announces. "Make that several signals..."
"Source?"
"Astro-survey drones", replies Myromar. "That's nothing unusual - they're designed to lie dormant, and wake up every now and then to run update scans. However... this isn't standard procedure."
"In what way?" C'mon, M-Girl - you're making me nervous...
"Three ways, actually", explains my companion. "First - normally only one drone activates at a time. Second - none of the drones are relaying data on open channels - they're designed to monitor the spaceways, and their information should be available to anyone and everyone. Thirdly... well, the scanning domain they're employing is wrong. Based on the background distortion I'm reading, these drones have, and are using, tactical sensors!"
"So someone's scanning with a view to carrying out military action?", I ask her.
"That's the way it looks."
"And whose probes are they?"
"They're Confederacy Deep Watcher Class, Tai-reh'taran in manufacture."
Oh, hell no... the Confederacy are sticking their noses into this? If they find out about what the Imperial Temple are planning, and the Imperial Temple can make it happen... the Confederacy will feel compelled to intervene, and what was just recently friendly blood will be spilled...
...to be continued...
- Posted on 01.02.2010 at 13:55 -
Previously...
She Returns - Chapter 7 - 22.02.2010
She Returns - Chapter 6 - 18.02.2010
She Returns - Chapter 5 - 15.02.2010
She Returns - Chapter 4 - 06.02.2010
She Returns - Chapter 3 - 03.02.2010
